#Boy will jump off a building to save your little brother better believe it

[god-fucking-dammit-mizutani]

Is Jyou technically like Yamato’s first (human) friend?? I can’t remember. did Yamato have friends before the digidestined??

[the-atlas-sister]

First Kiss (Batfamily Preference)

(Y/f/h= your favorite hairstyle)

Bruce:

Bruce put on a fake smile, like he usually did at these galas. A handful of people approached him and asked him about his company or life, mostly old ladies asking when he was going to get himself a wife.

He let out a puff of air as the last group of old ladies walked away from him. He raised his glass of sparkling water to his lips, scanning the room for his special guest.

That's when he saw you. You wore a black dress that fit you perfectly and your hair was in (y/f/h). Alfred led you into the large room, saying something to you.

You looked around the room filled with people, anxiety rising in your chest. Your eyes finally landed on Bruce who stared at you with a loving expression on his face. You felt at ease as you stared at him.

Bruce approached you, taking your hand and raising it to his lips. They grazed your knuckles gently and you blushed as he kept eye contact.

"You look beautiful, my dear," Bruce said, spinning you.

"Thank you," you said, smiling gratefully.

"I want to show you something," Bruce said, giving you a boyish grin.

"Alright," you said, letting him guide you up the main stairs. He continued to lead you down the long halls until you reached a large terrace overlooking the garden and pool. "Wow," you sighed, leaning your elbows on the railing. You stared in awe at the beautiful sight before you, not noticing Bruce come up next to you.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked, making you look at him.

"Very," you said. "I can't believe this is all yours."

"It can be yours too," he stated, turning to you.

"That's very sweet," you chuckled, turning back to the garden.

Bruce smiled at you. "I mean it," he said, gripping your chin gently and making you look at him. "I love you, Y/N," he said honestly.

Your eyes widened. You stared at Bruce before leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. You pulled away seconds after. "I love you too," you said quietly, your face a deep red.

Bruce's face lit up before he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into a sweet hug.

(Don't mind me. Just blushing because I'm imagining Christian Bale's Bruce Wayne)

Dick:

"You'll be okay," Dick mumbled, setting you on the guest room bed at Wayne manor. You had recently been kidnapped by Slade as bait. When Dick arrived, you were already bloodied and bruised.

"I'm fine," you said, sitting up, wincing as you did. "I'm Batgirl."

"Lie your ass down," Dick demanded, taking off his domino mask. You closed your mouth and relaxed against the headboard.  You watched as Dick pulled out one of the first aid kits that was held in every room (due to the family's tendency to endanger themselves), his shoulders tense.

"Calm down, Cereal Boy," you said, trying to make a joke. Dick sent you a harsh look, making you sink into the bed.

Dick noticed this and his gaze softened. He sighed and sat in front of you. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I used to love the idea of you being Batgirl. I loved to work with you, but after this- a-and after what happened to Barbra and Jason-"

"Dick, listen to me," you said, now sitting right across from Dick. "I understand your fear, but I'm not Barbra or Jason, and your not Bruce. You won't give up everything for the city. And I can take care of myself."

"But-"

"No buts," you interrupted. "I'm a little bruised but alive."

"Y/N-"

You rolled your eyes before leaning forward and pressing your lips against Dick's. He stiffened but slowly leaned into it. He placed his larger hands on your shoulders as gently as he could.

"Thanks for worrying," you mumbled as you pulled away.

Jason:

You smirked as you ran across the rooftops, Red Hood and Nightwing behind you. You had taken up the mantle Catwoman for a while, because your mother had been injured fighting Batman.

You had just stolen a golden cat statue from the Penguin, who was at large.

"Is it just me, or has Catwoman gotten smaller?" Nightwing said, doing a flip and landing in front of you.

"Is it just me or is this Nightwing's hairline reseeding?" you smirked. You watched as Nightwing's face contorted into one of fear, his hands going to his hair. You took that opportunity to jump down from the building. As you fell, you felt someone wrap their arms around your waist, catching you before both of you tumbled onto one of the lower buildings.

You jumped up, seeing Red Hood across from you. "Now, let's make this easy," he said, pulling out one of his guns, which you assumed had rubber bullets. "I got a date tonight and I can't be late."

"So do I," you stated before pulling out your whip. You snapped it around Red Hood's ankle, pulling him to his back. You yanked on the whip, pulling Red Hood towards yourself. You placed one foot on his chest and the other on his wrist holding the gun. "Now tell me, what's under that hood?" You leaned down, your gloved hands running around the metal hood, searching for a way to take it off.

"Hey-" Red Hood exclaimed as you pulled off the hood. Your eyes widened as your boyfriend's face appeared. You decided to put on a fake smirk.

"What a pretty face," you said, leaning down and placing your knees on his wrists. You smirked as you pressed your lips to Jason's. You placed both of your hands on his face, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. "Hope your girlfriend doesn't mind," you whispered before jumping up. You grabbed your whip and rewrapped it before jumping off the building. You let out a breath as you landed in a dumpster.

You jumped out and began running. My boyfriend is Red Hood, you thought.

Tim:

Where is he? you thought, looking around the cafeteria. You were waiting for your best friend, Tim. He had been incredibly kind when you first arrived at school and the two of you instinctually clicked.

You sighed after waiting a few more minutes before standing up and walking into the halls. That's when you saw Tim surrounded by three bullies.

"Look at this loser," the first one said, pushing Tim back when he tried to sneak away. "Bet he's never even had a girlfriend." Tim met your eyes. He seemed less scared or intimidated and more annoyed.

"Can I just go to lunch?" he sighed.  

"You could eat this," the second bully smirked, pulling out a stinky sock.

You scoffed, deciding to step in. "What are you, 5?" you said, pushing the bully's face to the side. He looked at you, extremely offended. "Come on Tim," you said, grabbing Tim's hand and beginning to pull him out from the small circle of bullies.

"Guess he can get girls to save him, but never sleep with him!" one bully yelled. You stopped, glaring at him before grabbing Tim's face and kissing him softly.

Tim panicked for a second, going stiff and not knowing what to do, but eventually placed his hands on your waist like Dick told him to when he explained how to kiss a girl.

"Come on," you grinned, pulling away.

"O-okay," Tim stuttered out before letting you lead him back into the cafeteria.

Damian:

"You're getting sloppy," Damian commented as you threw a punch at him. He had suggested a while back that you two start training together. You thought it was a great idea and would be fun. You were wrong.

"I am not," you defended, ducking as Damian threw a punch. He was going easy on you, and it annoyed you. "And don't go easy on me Damian. I'm Supergirl, I can handle it."

"I'm not going easy on you Beloved," Damian insisted, ducking down and going to trip you, but you easily flew above his foot. "Although we did agree no powers," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking up at your flying form.

"I'll stop using my powers when you stop going easy on me," you said, mimicking Damian's actions.

"Alright," Damian smirked, making you blush slightly. He quickly pulled out a grappling hook gun from who knows where and shot it. It wrapped around your ankle before you could fly away. Damian pulling on it, slowly pulling you down from the air until your feet touched the ground. Then, before you had time to react, he rushed forward, tripping you.

"Ow," you mumbled, looking up to see Damian pinning you to the ground with a smirk. "I knew you were going easy on me." Damian smiled slightly, admiring you. "Can you let me up now?" you asked, you face flushing pink at the newfound attention.

"Try and get out," Damian stated, apparently unsatisfied. You sighed before an idea popped into your mind. You leaned up, pressing your lips to Damian's. His eyes widened, unsure of what to do. He racked his brain for what Dick had told him to do in the stupid 'what if someone kisses you' talks. You then leaned back down.

"I'm sorry," you said, worried about Damian's reaction.

Damian stared at you before leaning down and recapturing your lips. You quickly reacted, lifting your head up to get a better angle.

You felt Damian's grip loosen as you continued and tried to slip your wrists from his grip, only from Damian to grab them again and press them to the floor.

"So close," he teased, pulling away slightly.

You rolled your eyes.

"SWEET JESUS!" Dick's voice yelled from the side, making you and Damian turn your heads. All of Damian's brothers stood there, staring at the two of you. Dick seemed horrified, Jason seemed both impressed and proud and Tim just looked confused. "YOU TWO NEED HOLY WATER!" Dick screeched, rushing forward and pouring his water on the both of you.

"Grayson!"

Terry:

"Terry," you said, looking up from your book as Terry walked into the living room of Wayne Manor.

"Hey Baby," Terry said, approaching you. "Where's the old man?"

"At some charity event," you stated, returning your attention to your book. Terry sat next to you, staring at you.

"What are you reading?" he asked.

"Y/f/b," you answered, turning a page.

"Well, can we do something together?" Terry questioned.

"After I'm done reading," you shrugged him off. Terry glanced at the book, raising an eyebrow at how much you still had left. He pushed the book down slightly, making you scowl at him. "Terry, I told you-"

Terry leaned forward, kissing you gently. You pushed him away. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked, staring at you with a hurt expression.

"I said after my book," you said, going back to y/f/b.

These aren’t fantastic- but thank you for reading

I take requests btw! <3

I take requests for the following fandoms:

Demon Slayer

Haikyuu

Hunter x Hunter

My Hero Academia

Studio Ghibi films

IT (the films and book)

Percy Jackson

DC

Marvel

Umbrella Academy

Harry Potter

Star Wars

Most Actors (not a fandom, I know)

Rise of the Guardians

Disney (some people like reading Disney character x reader things)

I do fluff, smut, lime and angst.

[griffintail]

The Lost Ones

Summary: Several of the SMP members find an infant in a place they didn’t expect and decide to care for them.

Pairings: Platonic! Parental! Tommy, Wilbur, Philza, Technoblade, Eret, and Dream x F! Child! Reader

Next

Warnings! : Swearing, Village Raid, Minor Violence, Minor Deaths (Mostly mobs), mentions of blood

A/N : I’m the biggest sap for child readers. Dating back to 2014. I literally couldn’t help myself. Just so everyone knows, I suck at writing in gender neutral terms, that’s why the reader is specifically female in all of these (Including Tommy’s, Minor Spoiler, Tommy’s just an idiot and doesn’t look). So, sorry about that.

I’ll most certainly will make more of these. I won’t always have it just like this, I might write a certain character individually in a scenario. It’s all dependent on my mood. I might add more characters! This is just basically the introduction. So yeah...ENOUGH RAMBLING! Hope you enjoy :)

       Tommy (Before the First Disc War)

        Tommy smirked proudly to himself as he tucked his new disc safely into his inventory bag before starting the walk back to his home. His adventure was successful, he managed to get a rare disc and it was now all his. Walking through the small bit of woods, he rested his hand on his sword handle. It was still night time after all and the monsters were out to play.

        As he could see the lights from the small town of the Dream SMP, he heard a cry. Looking back into the woods, he frowned before grinning.

        Someone is in trouble! He’d save them and get a payment—er— “willing reward” from them. Pulling his sword, he ran over towards the sound of another cry, this time the sound being continued. He rolled his eyes, someone was crying, what a pussy. As the crying was practically on top of him, he frowned in confusion as he only found a skeleton, which was trying to shoot at a basket hanging in a tree. There was no one there to be crying.

        He shrugged regardless, taking his shield off before going for the skeleton. It only managed one arrow before Tommy killed the mob. Looking at the basket, Tommy hummed before putting his weapon and shield away to climb up. As he got to a safe place to reach the basket, the crying now made sense as his eyes went wide.

        “You’re a fucking baby!” He shouted in surprise.

        Said infant noticed the new face and their wails quieted, but small cries still came out.

        “Quiet down. You’re going to bring monsters!” He hushed, moving carefully, getting the basket off, and brought it to himself. “How the hell did you get up here? Who just leaves a baby?”

        He looked down at the baby as he sat back in the tree. He couldn’t help but think how small she was, had he been that small when he was this young?

        “Guess you got nowhere to go huh?” He asked as the child looked up, their cries having gone silent seeing the boy much closer.

        They played with their blanket and he hummed as he held the basket close, making his way down the tree.

        “You’re lucky, a big man saved you! I don’t live far, so you’ll come with me. Of course, I wouldn’t just leave you here again.” Tommy rambled, despite knowing the infant couldn’t respond back. “I’m not some kind of monster!”

        He made it back to his home, putting the basket on his bed, and looked down at the baby with his hands on his hips.

        “If you were left out there like that, you’re alone.” This time, the baby gave a small babble and he couldn’t help the small smile that came on his face. “Well, then I’ll take care of you! I’m a big man and can do it easy! Phil took care of my brothers and me after all and he’s old and stupid. I’m young and very wise, so I can do it. I suppose you’ll need a name now.”

        If anyone had been in the room with Tommy, they’d be surprised how gentle he picked up the small human. Carefully, he held them properly, only knowing how as Phil had once shown him when they were helping a village out after a raid when he had taken the younger boy to trade.

        “Hmm, I’ll call you (Y/N)!” He decided. “And I will be the greatest father ever! And I know the perfect way to celebrate today!”

        Going into his bag, he grinned as he pulled out his new music disc. Putting it on the jukebox, he sat on his bed as the infant looked over at the object making the beautiful sound. His grin went into a gentle smile as he watched (Y/N) listen to the music. They’d both be happy; he’d make sure of it.

        Twenty Minutes Later…

        Tubbo sprinted down the stairs of his house as he heard frantic knocking on his door and the sound of crying. Swinging the door open, he let out a startled noise seeing a distressed Tommy holding a wailing baby.

        Of course, he’d need some help since there was just a little bit of a learning curve.

          Wilbur (Right after Declaration of War)

        Times were hard. Wilbur had just started a new nation to free himself, his friends, and his family from the iron grip of Dream and his friends, but they did not like the loss of power and declared war on him. As well as the war, Fundy had become a rather rebellious teenager and Wilbur wasn’t sure how to handle all of it. He didn’t let it show to the others though. He’d be a strong leader for them.

        He looked over his map of L’Manberg. They needed better defensive points…they fought with their words but Dream fought with weapons of destruction. They needed safe spaces to protect themselves…

        Wilbur jumped, knocking over an ink bottle over on the table when there was pounding on the van door.

        “Damn it.” He grumbled, quickly flipping the bottle back up and moved the map out of the way before going to the door.

        He opened the door to see Eret standing there, making Wilbur raise an eyebrow as Eret was on guard duty at the moment but looked shocked seeing what the other man was holding.

        “Hello, sir. They were just outside the gate. I didn’t see anyone else around.” Eret rapidly explained to his leader, the small infant wiggling in his hold. “I brought them here because they were cold.”

        “Get inside,” Wilbur instructed, going into the back of the van again quickly.

        He heard the door close as he grabbed his spare coat.

        “Hand them over,” Wilbur muttered, Eret carefully transferring his hold to the other man.

        Wilbur saw they had a blanket but it was thin and the child was cold to the touch. Wrapping his coat around them, he instructed Eret to light a furnace, which he did post haste.

        “Hello there, love.” He whispered quietly to the infant, rocking them lightly. “We’re going to get you warmed up and something to fill your stomach, how does that sound?”

        The baby didn’t fuss, too tired and cold to even thinking about making one. Wilbur stood next to the now lit furnace and looked up at Eret.

        “Is anyone out there?” He asked, his proud leader voice coming out.

        “No sir, I was worried about the child.”

        Wilbur nodded. “I commend you for saving their life, but I have it from here. Send someone to fetch milk and then please stand guard again.”

        Eret nodded before leaving the van.

        Once the two were alone, Wilbur sighed heavily as he sat on the floor, still close to the furnace. He felt the child’s forehead, feeling them warm up to his relief.

        “You gave us a scare little one.” He chuckled quietly. “But don’t worry, you’re in a safe place. L’Manberg will care for you. I suppose it was lucky you were left here rather than the Dream SMP.”

        He hummed quietly as he gently rocking the child, their eyes closing as they relaxed in his hold. As they relaxed, he gave a quick check for their gender.

        “Welcome little one. You’re the first woman of L’Manberg.” He smiled lightly.

        For a short while, he was able to forget about everything outside the van. He could relax himself and let his mind clear as he watched the little girl in his arms. They were both at peace.

        After a few minutes, he looked up as he heard the van door open. As he was standing up carefully, his own son Fundy came in holding a bucket.

        “Hey, Eret said you needed…What the hell is that?!” Fundy exclaimed in surprise, startling the girl in his arms, tears appearing in her eyes.

        “Shh, it’s alright,” Wilbur whispered to her as he rocked her again and he wiped her tears away with one hand.

        Fundy cautiously came over, raising an eyebrow. “Who are they?”

        Wilbur paused thinking for a moment, before smiling. “Meet your new little sister my son. (Y/N), the newest member of our great nation.”

          Philza (Right before Wilbur’s Betrayal)

        Phil shook out his wings as he landed in a village. He needed to rest them for a bit before continuing on his journey to L’Manberg. He had gotten word of how the tides had turned badly for his sons in the new nation they made to try and live peacefully. Originally, they hadn’t asked for his aid as Tommy and Wilbur had made contact with Techno and they believed with their older brother, they could surely turn it back. Yet, Tommy had sent him a letter with worry for Wilbur’s state of mind and Phil decided he needed to be there for his sons.

        Yes, he wanted them to learn the world on their own but there were some times when Phil needed to be there to help them.

        Looking at the sky, the night was fast approaching so he managed to get a house in the village for the night. Keeping his sword by his bedside, he went to sleep for the night…

        Startling awake, Phil heard the sounds of the village bell.

        “God damn it,” Phil mumbled, scooping his sword and bag before putting his hat on his head.

        Running out, he saw the cause of the panicked ringing. A pillager raid, and it was already out of control. Fires were crackling madly and blood littered the paths.

        “Shit.” He swore as a pillager spotted him and he dodged the arrow before running them through with his sword.

        The few surviving villagers ran from their homes and Phil went to follow when he heard a wail, the wail of a child. His throat tightened as he looked back to the burning buildings, his fatherly instinct along with his good nature kicked in.

        “God…” He muttered before spreading his wings.

        With ease, he was able to dodge between pillagers and ravagers alike as he followed the sound. Landing at the house that was most certainly ablaze, Phil kicked in the door. Holding his arm to his mouth and nose, he rushed in and found a small nursery, the flames engulfing the walls and ceiling. Rushing to the crib, he found the small child and quickly picked them up.

        “Let’s go kiddo.” He said as he rushed back out.

        Once he was outside, he took flight again and flew high enough to be out of arrow range, and flew far from the village. As he did, he looked the small child, of which he found out was female, over for injures as she screamed and cried. She had no visible injuries but Phil knew she had to have inhaled smoke. So, after a handful of minutes flying, he landed and shushed her quietly.

        “It’s alright kiddo, hang on,” Phil told her quietly as he went into his bag taking out a health potion. “I got something that can help you.”

        Being gentle, he gave them a few drops of the potion to hopefully clear out any smoke and heal the damage it might have done. The little girl gave hiccups and small cries.

        “It’s alright. You’re safe now.” He bounced her lightly, slowing down her cries to nothing. “There we go. We’re ok. Once morning comes, we’ll find the others of the rest of your village and see if we can’t find your parents.”

        The little girl’s eyes merely drooped and he gave smile before he frowned as he looked up to see the fires in the distance. They were a human child and he didn’t remember seeing any humans running away with the survivors but he’d try. And if not…

        “Don’t you worry, I’ll take care of you,” Phil assured the now sleeping infant.

        Technoblade (Start of Retirement)

        Techno shouldered the bag of wood he had gathered over his shoulder, his axe on his belt as he made his way home through the snow. The voices were relatively calm, not hungry for blood at the moment, and Techno was able to have a peaceful moment. As he trudged closer to his house, he slowed to a stop seeing footprints by the stairs and the voices kicked up as his thoughts went wild.

        Phil always gave him notice on his walkie if he was on the way and whoever had been there had gone up the stairs then walked away in a different direction from where they came.

        The voices were bringing up the question of if he was being scouted out. Who could have found his house? How did they find it? They started to demand blood.

        Technoblade took his axe off his belt while putting down the bag of wood. Going towards the porch carefully, he held it ready to expect the worse when he entered his house but he didn’t even go up the stairs to find something. On his doorstep, there sat a large huddle of blankets.

        Furrowing his eyebrows, he came up to the huddle carefully and slowly with his axe raised. Stopping when it was fully in view, he stared in even more confusion.

        “What the hell?” He questioned, lowering his axe slightly as he looked around the snowy tundra. “Who leaves a child on my doorstep!”

        In the middle of the huddle of blankets was a sleeping child, who wiggled slightly at the loudness of his voice.

        They’re an orphan now

        You know how you feel about orphans

        Blood for the Blood God

        Techno winced at the sounds of the voices as he looked at the child. They were right…they were an orphan now. Someone had left them on his doorstep and now they were abandoned. He gripped his axe tightly as he looked down at the infant.

        It’d be quick and easy…

        The small human opened their eyes slightly, squirming slightly as they saw him. Techno’s grip loosened, the voices screaming in protest. They were so small and so defenseless…he wasn’t calling for blood anymore.

        Grunting, he put the axe away, going back down the stairs to grab the bag as he clenched his jaw at the loud noises of the voices before going back and picking up the child with surprising gentleness as the child was startled slightly. He shouldered his door open, dropping the bag of wood next to the unlit fireplace before making his way upstairs to his bedroom. He put the child down, who watched him in silent curiosity as Techno took the walkie off his belt.

        “Phil, you there?” He questioned into it.

        It took a minute but the device crackled.

        “Yeah, what’s going on?”

        “I got a…issue. Come over as soon as you can.”

        “An issue? What kind of issue?” Phil asked in surprise as usually, Technoblade could handle most of his issues.

        “It’s hard to explain, just come over.” Techno rubbed his temple at the screams of the voices.

        “Alright, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

        He put the walkie down as he looked over at the child watching him.

        “What?” He huffed.

        Then the child gave a small giggle, trying to get their hands free to hold them out to him. The man stood there in shock as his heart melted. He had not felt something like that in a long time. Scrunching up his nose slightly before coming over and taking the infant out of the blankets and holding her as he used to with Tommy.

        “What the hell am I going to do with you?” He muttered and the small human held lightly onto his shirt, making even the voices slow down.

        He down a level in his home to wait for Phil, keeping the child in his hold as he just decided to do his normal routine. He started a fire and began to brew a few potions when the knock came on his door.

        “Come in.” He called.

        In stepped his father, who immediately dropped his bag in surprise seeing what Techno was holding as he added a new ingredient to his potion.

        “Hello.” He greeted the older man without looking at him.

        “What the hell did you have?” The older man questioned.

        Techno looked over at him confused. “Blaze powder.”

        Phil took his hat off as he ran a hand through his hair. “I meant the baby!”

        “Oh! Yeah, this.” Techno said casually, the older man freaking out. “Someone left them on my porch.”

        “Oh god…are they ok?” Phil asked, coming over.

        “Yeah, they’re fine. They were swallowed by blankets.”

        The child tried to take a bottle in their hands and Techno simply moved it from them and kept working like it was the most natural thing in the world. Phil stood in surprise at how casual Techno was, he knew about the orphan thing and how vicious the voices in his head could be.

        “What…what are you going to do with the child?”

        “That’s why I called you,” Techno said, before holding the child to the man. “You take it.”

        “What?! Techno, I can’t just take this child. I…” Phil’s hand shook slightly at the thought of Wilbur. “I can’t have another child right now. And L’Manberg will question where I even got them in the first place.”

        “Well then what do I do with it?!” Techno huffed as he was surprised by the quietness of the voices.

        “Well…you could take of them.”

        “I don’t know how to take care of a child. I don’t even like children, have you seen me with Tommy?” Techno rolled his eyes.

        “You seem to like this one.” Phil pointed out as Techno was holding them willingly and at the gentleness, he had with them.

        Techno frowned as he tried to think of a good reason. “That’s because they’re quiet.”

        “Look…I know you don’t want to hear this but maybe you should look after them, even just for a while. I can see if I can find someone who wants a child.”

        No, you found them.

        They’re rather cute…

        Keep them!

        The voices had done a full turn around from when they first saw the child. They were demanding Techno care for them and protect the fragile being. Techno couldn’t disagree with them because in his heart…he wanted to protect the child that had been left on his doorstep.

        “Fine, I’ll take care of them for a while but you need to help me, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

        Phil chuckled. “Of course, son. We should look them over first to make sure they’re alright.”

        Techno rolled his eyes but agreed, listening to Phil as he told him what to do. The father was smiling proudly as even though Techno was frustrated with the new task, he continued with it. Once she, as they discovered, was checked over, Phil put a hand on his son’s shoulder.

        “What do you want to call her?” Phil asked.

        He looked down at the child, who was giggling as Phil smiled at her.

        “Blood Child.”

        “Techno!”

        Later, Techno actually decided on (Y/N) and for once, the voices were on his side.

          Eret (Before the founding of L’Manberg)

        Eret chuckled to himself as he walked down the path back towards his castle. Tommy’s antics for the day had been particularly ridiculous that it still brought a chuckle to the older gentleman as he went back to his home. He knew the days around the Dream SMP certainly wouldn’t be boring.

        Walking to his castle, he stopped as he noticed a basket left in front of the door and peered inside.

        “Why hello there.” Eret smiled seeing a small face peering back up at him as they squirmed slightly in discomfort. “What are you doing here little one?”

        He carefully picked up the basket and went inside his castle. As he got to his bedroom, he carefully took the infant out struggling a bit but managed before searching a bit in the basket.

        “Hmm, no note or anything.” He muttered as he looked at the child squirming around. “Well, someone made a mistake leaving you behind. Let’s see if I can’t figure out what’s making you so fussy.”

        After a bit of trying, first checking to see if she needed a diaper, he figured she needed some food and managed to get milk, putting it in a clean potion bottle to help her drink it easier. That also took a few trials, but he managed to help her drink until she stopped fussing.

        “There we go, now I can see your lovely face better.” He smiled as he sat on his bed, wiggling his finger in front of her making her giggle.

        As he played with the small girl, he frowned slightly as he looked over the basket that she had been left in. Why would someone leave someone so precious on the doorstep of his castle? It was truly a shame for those that did leave the little girl as Eret couldn’t help but slowly smile again as the little girl grasped onto his finger.

        “You’re not going to have to worry little one. You can stay here with me and you can be the princess of this castle.” He promised her, hugging her lightly, making her giggle. “I’ll make sure you’re safe and happy. It will take me a little while to learn how to do it all properly but I’ll learn. How does that sound…(Y/N)?”

        He chuckled as he moved his head back as she reached for her glasses. Yeah, this sounded like a beautiful idea.

          Dream (The Very Start)

        Dream rolled his eyes behind his mask as he heard George screaming in the distance, Sapnap laughing wildly in return. Those two never know how to stop.

        “Come on you two! We need to build a house before the night comes.” Dream called to them. “Stop goofing off.”

        Yet, he could still hear George’s high-pitched scream and he just chuckled and shook his head at his friends’ behavior. They were the company he kept and he honestly wouldn’t trade them for anything.

        Eventually, they did stop screwing and they were able to get to work on building their first home of the new land they had. The three of them joked and there was some arguing still between Sapnap and George but it just made it peaceful for the three of them. It was how their lives were.

        Dream went to go look for some sheep to get wool for beds before night fully struck, leaving the two “children” at the house. As he went searching, he jumped when he heard the sound of screaming, but it wasn’t liking George’s scream. It was quieter but still a scream.

        “Hello?!” Dream called as he pulled out his stone sword.

        As he went towards the noise, he realized it wasn’t a scream of terror as he first thought it was. No, it was a screaming cry, the kind a child would make. He started sprinting at that thought and skidded to a stop as he found the infant that was making the sound laid on top of a rock, a group of three zombies trying to get it.

        Dream gripped onto his sword before shouting to get their attention and moved back, quickly taking care of the mobs. He pushed his smiley mask to the side of his face as he finished them off and rushed over to the baby.

        “Hey! Hey. It’s ok now.” He told them as he climbed up next to them, dropping his sword at the bottom. “All the bad things are gone.”

        He gently picked up the baby, shushing them as he put a hand on top of their head. Slowly, they quieted down and Dream smiled wiping their tears away.

        “Hey, there you go. See? There’s nothing to cry about.” He chuckled before screwing his face up to look funny.

        The child giggled and he grinned.

        “There we go. Now, let’s check you out.” He muttered, looking them over. “No injuries. That’s very good princess. Now, what are you doing out here?” He asked as he looked around, seeing no signs of human life other than the two of them.

        Dream’s blood boiled slightly. Someone would just leave a child out here? If it wasn’t for him, she would have died!

        “You got nowhere to go huh? Well, you don’t have to worry.” He said, carefully sliding down.

        He picked up his sword, putting it back in its sheath, before walking back towards his friends.

        “I’ll take care of you. You’ll be the princess of our new land! You, me, and your two idiot uncles.” He laughed, the tiny girl giggling at the sound. “And I’ll make sure you always have a reason to smile.”

[multifandomfanficss]

Perfect

Doctor x Reader (Platonic!Jack x Reader)

Prompt: When on an adventure with the Doctor and Jack the reader is attacked by an alien called a Psyfon, a race with psychic abilities who feed off of emotions. The reader gets stuck in their perfect dream realm and the Doctor has to save them before they die in there.

Warnings: Dead family members.

A/N: Pretty much any Doctor can be used, but I mostly thought of 10 and 11 while writing it. The aliens were inspired by the Djinn from Supernatural. I was also inspired by Doctor Who: The Infinite Quest a little bit so if you’re a fan of the main series you should totally check that out. Also please let me know if I made an error in pronouns. I tried to make the reader gender neutral so everyone could relate. 

You had been traveling with the Doctor for a while now and had run into Jack not long after you met him. When you first met Jack, an old friend of the Doctor’s, you didn’t believe him when he said he had known the Doctor for over a century. Judging by his earthly appearance and his age there was no way this could be true, but after watching him die you quickly learned of his immortality. 

You met the Doctor when he saved you from the Cybermen. Sadly he couldn’t save your family from such a terrible fate, but he got you out just in time. Ever since then they had been your biggest fear. Jack and the Doctor had lived for so long they both knew what it was like to lose the people they cared for most...nobody knew better than the Doctor. They helped you get through the pain that came after such a big loss. The Doctor would often hear crying coming from your room during your early nights on the TARDIS when he sat up late in the console room and he would be at your side in seconds to comfort you. He was always there for you no matter what. You wouldn’t have gotten to this point without him. By now the nightmares had gone away, mostly, and the scars had stopped bleeding, but they were still there. They would always be there. This history was a part of you forever, your history, and you were just lucky enough to have the Doctor in it. If you’re being completely honest with yourself you had grown a little bit of a crush on the Doctor. I mean who wouldn’t? He’s the Doctor. You loved him, but you would never tell him. You were happy living with his ignorance. Life was better in the bliss of your friendship. 

It had been just a normal adventure with your two best friends, Jack and the Doctor, but then again nothing was ever really normal with them. You were separated from your boys as your ran down a long dark corridor. Your shoes slapped against the cold, hard pavement as you rounded the corner. When you looked behind you there seemed to be nothing chasing you anymore. You stopped to catch your breath. 

The three of you had been investigating a series of psychic attacks that were leaving people brain dead and full of a strange blue goo. You weren’t sure what kind of alien could do such a thing, but you knew you had to find out. 

“(Y/N)?!” I hear Jack yell in a hushed tone. His voice echos throughout the empty building. You turn to look for him when you start to hear ringing in your ears and a giant pounding in your head. You feel your eyes close as your body hits the ground. 

THIRD PERSON POV

Jack stood next to (Y/N)’s body with his gun aimed at the monster while the Doctor crouched down to check their pulse. 

“You better hope they’re still alive!” Jack said as he shoved his big gun in the monster’s face. Usually the Doctor would object to pointing guns at people, but he was so worried about (Y/N) he didn’t have time to care about Jack’s manners. 

“What did you do to them?!” The Doctor asks standing up to look at the alien. They were from a species called Psyfons, a group of aliens who feed off the emotions of other people. 

“Don’t worry, they’re only sleeping,” the alien slurred. 

“For now,” they added. Jack hit the alien with the butt of his gun and knocked them out. The Doctor gave him a disapproving look.

“You should be happy. Knocking them out was the least I could do” Jack joked. The Doctor rolled his eyes and dropped down to (Y/N)‘s body again. Jack joined him this time. They were sweating. He placed his hand over their forehead.

“They’re burning up” Jack stated the obvious. 

“Yes, I know I-I I have to do-do this thing-“ The Doctor starts stuttering. 

“Then do it!” Jack cuts him. 

“But I can’t! I swore I’d never do it again! Not since-“ He started to get a little choked up.

“Since what?!” Jack questioned. 

“Not since Donna” The Doctor finished sadly. Jack put a hand on the Doctor’s shoulder. 

“It’s the only way to save them” Jack told him.

“It was the only way to save her too” The Doctor says sadly.

“Maybe it’ll be different this time” Jack suggests.

“We don’t know that” The Doctor says coldly as he puts his hands to (Y/N)’s head and enter’s their mind. 

(Y/N)’S POV

You wake up laying in the grass in front of your old house. You hear the sound of birds and the sun is just a little too bright for comfort, but it’s home. You take a deep breath of the fresh air. You smile, but you’re confused. You look over to see the Doctor standing in the TARDIS door. Jack is nowhere to be seen. 

“Where’s Jack?” You ask. 

“Oh, popped off to see his friends at Torchwood, I suppose” The Doctor tells you. You nod as you look back to your house. 

“And we’re home because...” You wonder.

“The Psyfon knocked you out. I figured this would be a nice, safe place to rest for a while” He reminds you. 

“And I couldn’t just rest in the TARDIS?” You ask.

“I thought this would be a nice surprise” He says. 

“What year is it?” You ask. You doubt he would be able to bring you to a time period where your family is alive, but it never hurts to ask. 

“2021” He answers.

“So they’re not here” you say sadly.

“Who’s not here?” He asks.

“My family” You say becoming more sad, but more confused by the second. How could he just forget like that? You know he’s lived for a long time, but surely he wouldn’t forget something this important to you. Would he? He gives you a confused look.

“Doctor, my family is d-“ You’re cut off by the sound of a door opening. 

“You didn’t tell us you were coming!” You hear a voice say. You stop dead in your tracks and you go white. It can’t be. 

“Mom?” You say as you turn around to see her. You run to her and engulf her in a giant hug. 

“Woah, what’s that for?” Your mother asks delighted, as you practically knock her down. 

“I just missed you. That’s all” You say as you try to hold back your tears. 

“Where is everybody?” You ask, as it suddenly dawns on you that your family is alive. 

“Your father went to go pick up your brother and sister from school” She informs you. The Doctor comes up behind you and takes your hand. He squeezes it, giving you a big smile. He is an impossible man, but you never knew he could do something like this for you. 

“Why don’t you two come in? It’s almost time for tea” Your mother invites you in. You gladly accept, of course. You watch your mother go into the kitchen as you pull the Doctor aside into the living room and hug him tightly. 

“Thank you” You tell him. That’s when you start to let go of a few tears. 

“I figured it was time to go home” He says happily. The hug lingers a little longer than usual. He just holds you. Then he places a quick kiss to your cheek, just missing your lips. Your face goes red. This is completely out of character for your relationship with the Doctor. Sure you had always wanted to be something more, but he didn’t need to know that. You didn’t want your relationship with him to change. You figure it’s best to just dance around the subject. You pull away and clear your throat. 

“So, um...how did you do it?” You ask.

“Do what?” He asks looking lovingly into your eyes. 

“Bring my family back?” You ask with a slight chuckle.

“I didn’t” He says simply. That’s when your head begins to ring again. 

“Let me in, (Y/N). That’s it.” You hear the Doctor’s voice, but his lips aren’t moving. Suddenly there is a light and the Doctor shifts uncomfortably. He cracks his neck and stretches out his arms. 

“Good thing there was a body here for me to jump into or else that could have been disastrous” He comments. You give him a confused look. 

“Oh, yes! I’m sorry (Y/N), but none of this is real” He says plainly. 

“What?” You ask. This all certainly looks and feels real. The sound of a kettle whistle comes from the kitchen. The Doctor sniffs the air. 

“Is that tea?” He asks. 

“Tea’s ready!” Your mom calls from the kitchen. 

“Doctor, you need to tell me what’s going on right now” You demand. He looks into the kitchen and makes a face.

“The Psyfon. It put you in a dream state so it could feed off your energy and emotions. You’re dying in the real world. Turning to goo” He held out the last word as he made a face of disgust and interest. He gave you a sad look as he started to put the pieces together, of where you were and who you were with. You started to feel your legs give out from underneath you. The Doctor guided you to a chair. 

“I want to stay” You say numbly. 

“(Y/N), none of this is real” He starts.

“I don’t care. I want to stay” You repeat. 

“You’ll die in here” He begins. 

“Time works differently in dreams. I could easily spend my whole life here-“ You try to rationalize it.

“You’ll never see me again” The Doctor tries. 

“There’s a version of you here-“ You try, but are cut off again. He crouches down to your level and takes hold of your hands. 

“(Y/N), none of this is real. It will never be real. Your pain balances out your beauty. There wouldn’t be one without the other and that’s what makes you human and you are SO human. This is all in your head. You will be alone in here forever. Please just come home with me. There are people there who will miss you. Come back with me, back to the TARDIS, please!” He results to begging as a last ditch effort. 

“How can I go back when everything is so perfect here? I’m perfect here. I’m not a mess. I can just be me” You start to cry. 

“You’re always perfect to me and that little bit of mess makes you human. It doesn’t lessen your beauty or your creativity or your kindness. It just adds to who you are as a person” He says, wiping away a tear.

“Please. Come home with me” He begs. You nod in response as he gives your hands a squeeze. He gives you a sad smile. You stand together and you hear the doorbell ring. 

“That must be your father. He forgot his keys again” Your mother laughs as she walks to the door. The door opens and the Doctor pushes himself in front of your as three Cybermen crash through the door. 

“DELETE” One yells, as it kills your mother. 

“NO” You scream, as the Doctor tries to keep you from running towards her.

“She isn’t real! Come on!” He yells over the sound of pounding Cybermen feet as he pulls you out the back way to the garden.

“Where’s the TARDIS?” He asks. 

“It’s on the other side of the house!” You say as you pull him around the building. You lay your eyes on the beautiful blue box as the Doctor shoves his key inside. 

“YOU WILL BE UPGRADED” The Cybermen shout. Once unlocked, you push your way through the doors to find a hollow Police Box. 

“Why is this happening?!” You cry. The Doctor places his hands on your shoulders. 

“The dream is turning into a nightmare to try to keep you here. (Y/N), come on. You have to think. What’s keeping you here?” He asks.

“My family is dead!” You cry.

“Yes, something else” He tries to think. You look at his thinking face. His beautiful thinking face and it strikes you. 

“I’m in love with you” You blurt out.

“What?!” He looks back at you with a confused look. 

“The version of you here. I think he felt the same way” You give him an embarrassed look. He lets go of a big breath. 

“Well...” He starts as he tilts his head. 

“I suppose if admitting the way I feel gets us out of here then the real me doesn’t feel very different” He finishes quickly. 

“Wait, what?!” You respond. He gives you his classic Doctor smile before the Cybermen fade. Everything fades. The world goes black. 

You wake up crying with a pounding headache in your bed in the TARDIS. The Doctor rushes in just like old times. 

“It’s okay. I’m here” The Doctor tells you as he sits on your bed and wraps his arms around you. 

“I just had the most insane dream” You start to tell him. 

“Well...” His voice fades. 

“Doctor, was that real?” You ask him. He pulls back to look at you. 

“In a sense, yes” He goes on to explain the effects the Psyfon had on you and how he went into your mind to save you. He explains how you were unconscious when you came out of the dream state and that he brought you back to your room on the TARDIS to rest.

“Where’s Jack?” You ask.

“He’s bringing the Psyfon to the Shadow Proclamation for me where they will be tried for their psychological attacks. They won’t hurt anyone anymore” He promises. After you’ve calmed down somewhat he gets up to leave the room. 

“You should get some rest” He says opening the door. 

“Wait! Doctor, do you think maybe you could stay with me? Just until I fall asleep?” You ask. 

“Of course” He responds as he awkwardly climbs into your bed and wraps his arms around you. You almost forget about your confessions until he kisses you on the cheek. 

“Goodnight, (Y/N)” He says sweetly.

“Goodnight, Doctor” You say as you drift off to sleep to the sound of his dual heartbeats. 

[blackbat05]

Jumping in head first

Shangqi x Reader

A/N: This was actually written before the others but not sure why I put it at the back. Been writing a bit more platonic imagines but I always welcome a different interpretation when you read it! To give a bit of context, reader is also an Avenger but she joined later and Shangqi is like the older protective brother? Because I just think that trope is neat. Anyways, hope this idea of mine is engaging as it was in my mind and as always, like and comment if you wish! Appreciate the support! 

Genre: PG 13

Warning: Profanity, blood, the usual when I attempt to write an action sequence? 

A gunshot rang throughout the department store. Shit. You were still in there. Shangqi races inside, battling against the throngs of shoppers who were desperately trying to get out.

You lifted the little boy up, sprinting away from the sound with all your might. Think (y/n), you tell yourself. Frantically gazing around the deserted store, you decided to hide the boy in a changing room that was neatly tucked in a corner. You removed your jacket, wrapping it around the boy. How nice, you and Shangqi had decided to go to the nearby mall to grab burgers from the new burger joint that had opened before heading to the Avengers compound to train and this had to happen. 

‘Hey… hey, don’t be afraid ok? I’ll make sure to come back for this.’ You tried to assure the poor boy. It seemed to do the trick as he managed to calm down. Shutting the door, you peeked out into the open to make sure the coast was clear. You had to direct attention away from this floor. As you turned left to the now stationary escalator, you saw a mannequin at the children’s section. Perfect.

You pushed the mannequin down the escalator, resulting in a large crash the level below. That was going to leave some lasting damage. ‘Someone’s downstairs!’ You could hear the pairs of heavy boots going down to the second level. Good. Now you just needed to see how many assholes were there to carry out your attack. Making sure to keep a safe distance, you went into a crouching position behind a wall, whipping out your phone camera.

Two… Four… Five of them. You were pretty tall yourself but these guys had boulders for bodies. You were starting to think if this plan of yours was just straight up reckless. Before you could decide on your next move, a hand clamps on your shoulder, bringing you down. ‘What the-oomph! Shangqi!’ You gasp. ‘The hell you doing here?’

‘Saving your ass clearly! What were you thinking?’ Shangqi glances up to see the assailants before turning to look at you. ‘The boy’s safe. I managed to get him out. We can engage freely. But minimum damage please.’

You rolled my eyes at him, ‘Says the guy who caused a bus to be chopped in half.’

‘You know that wasn’t me!’ He hisses back. Ignoring the noise of indignation he made, you scanned the area again. It was as if higher beings were looking out for the two of you, only two of the assailants remained while the rest spread themselves out within the level. The both of you were thinking the same thing - you and him and to take down each assailant within record time to prevent any unwanted attention.

Signing to Shangqi, the both of you treaded carefully down the escalator, each taking a side of the walkway surrounding a store selling prams. You signaled to him using your fingers. On three, strike immediately. Three…two…one!

You launched at the unsuspecting man in front of you, knocking him off balance. Before he could react, I wrapped myself around his left leg, forearms surrounding his ankle in a tight grip. ‘Don’t move unless you want to be in a wheelchair for the rest of your life boy.’ The masked assailant whimpers, quickly taking of his mask. He was no more than 16. ‘Alright, I surrender! Please don’t hurt me!’

I stare hard at him. He reminds me to much of the kids that I volunteer with at the shelter. What is his story? ‘Fine, tell me who’s your boss and why is he making you do this?’

‘I swear, for real - I don’t know. All I know is that some guy in a suit and sunglasses came to me and my friends and offered us a heck load of cash if we help to pull of some heist.’

I turn to Shangqi as if hoping the had some answers which he did. Being an Avenger didn’t just consist of battling a genocidal titan. It also meant that they were spread out across the country, lending a hand to the local police. ‘It’s probably the local gangs crawling around Chinatown. They gets kids like them to do heist like these and use the money to fund illegal activities.’ 

‘What kind?’

‘You don’t want to know,’

‘What kind,’ I emphasized again, not taking no for an answer. If kids like the boy were in danger, there needed to be something done. Shangqi sighs, ‘Drug smuggling, prostitution, organ harvesting. This is just the tip of the iceberg.’

My blood ran cold. Grabbing a rope from the mannequin donned in sports climbing gear, I tied the boy to the metal grills. ‘Don’t try anything funny.’

The two us proceeded to follow the remaining assailants. My brain was in overdrive, full of rage. ‘Can’t believe such lowlifes are allowed to run around San Francisco freely,’ I muttered under my breath, ‘don’t try to stop me.’ 

Shangqi ascends the steps of the escalator together with me, ‘Who said anything about stopping? Just try not to kill them okay? We still need them for interrogation.’ 

‘Can’t promise you that.’ 

Exactly an hour later, the two of us are standing together with a rookie officer who was taking Shangqi’s statement. I keep my eyes on the entrance where first responders were wheeling out stretchers of the injured. I happen to see the little boy who gave me a small wave in thanks. At least my injured shoulder was worth it. 

‘Fucking bitch!’ The last stretcher rolled out from the shopping mall with one of the assailants who was pointing furiously at me. ‘That bitch broke my ankle!’ 

I should have been shocked by the outburst and perhaps slightly embarrassed that tons of onlookers were staring at me. To my credit, it was the opposite - a mixture of satisfaction and annoyance at his behavior. My natural instincts were now controlling me. Striding towards his stretcher, I held a hand out to the medic to give me a minute before grabbing him by his bloodied shirt. 

‘Listen here you piece of shit,’ I kept my voice low to prevent any onlookers from picking up on the situation but loud enough for Shangqi to hear. ‘I’m willing to break more than just your ankle for what you did to those kids. You better spill everything to the police before I break more than just your ankle.’ To send my point across, my eyes playfully roamed down his body. He definitely left on the ambulance traumatized. 

‘Woah don’t burn me,’ Shangqi raises his hands playfully as he approaches me. ‘I don’t have to worry about you anymore huh?’ 

You rolled your eyes at him, ‘What can I say? I’m looking to outshine you one day!’

On cue, the same rookie officer bounds up to us, out of breath. ‘Mister uh-Shangqi, Miss Y/N, I just got another alert from my officer, there’s another attack in one of the financial buildings - we have reason to believe it’s the same group.’

We gave each other knowing looks. It was going to be a longer day than usual. ‘Well, the trip to the compound just got cancelled,’ Shangqi stretches his arms, as if gearing up for a boxing match.

‘Works for me, I have a lot to say to these assholes.’

‘Always jumping in head first huh?’

‘You know me too well!’

A/N: Wow! Legit came up with this during work hours so I’m not sure if my ending was ok? Hope you didn’t get bored reading up till here but if you did, thank you! It’s mid week and then I just have three more weeks left till this god damn placement ends. Until then, stay tuned! 

[gaaavin]

Hello I like your work and I was wondering if you could do Dom! Dutch x M!reader.

Like y/n was running from Colm and y/n got caught up in Dutch’s and Colm’s fewd. And Dutch edges y/n for answers of colm’s location, till y/n brakes and tells him. And y/n is stubborn as hell.

Idk if you feel comfortable with male x male and if you can’t write it, it’s ok😊

“Oh now come on, Colm! I ain’t a snitch! I didn’t give the law any information about your whereabouts. I’ve known you for ages – why would I betray you like that? I’ve always been loyal to you and you know it.” Your eyes wandered between Colm and Tom, another member of the O’Driscolls, who claimed to have seen you interchange information with some lawmen in a dark alley a few hours ago. For some reason, although you’ve known Colm for years by now, he didn’t believe you – but him – in this.

The three of you were gathered in an old cabin in the Cumberland Forest, which was quite frequently used by your gang as a hideout. He had ordered you to come there alone. Up until this very moment Colm had always trusted you, had never second-guessed you. Right now, though, he looked at you ready to send you straight into damnation. His eyes flicked between you and Tom and you could see the insecurity and uncertainty in them shining right through. You wanted to say something, defend yourself, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, Colm was quick to nip your efforts in the bud.

“Don’t – I know you’re lying. Tom wasn’t alone when he saw you back there. You tell me you ‘ain’t a snitch’” These rats! you thought to yourself. Colm spat out the last word with so much derogation, it made shivers run down your body. “And yet here you are telling me nothing but lies. Now, Y/N, you know what we do with traitors, don’t you?” You knew very well what exactly happened to people betraying Colm – you had seen him kill and torture so many people throughout the years because of failed jobs, falsely spied-out leads or other disobediences. One time, though, you had heard of Colm taking out his anger not directly on the concerning person, but where it actually hurt – their beloved significant other.

Dutch van der Linde, leader of the notorious van der Linde gang, whom you had met a few times before, was a good friend and business partner of Colm for quite some time. But this relationship turned eventually into a mortal hostility after Dutch had killed Colm’s brother. Colm of course sought revenge and wanted to snatch the most important thing away from Dutch – his partner Annabelle. Since then, the two gangs kept on living in an ongoing blood feud. So, you knew exactly what Colm was capable of.

Your gaze landed on Colm again, finally settling on his sliding-down hand. You had to act quickly, so you imitated his actions and pulled out your weapons, simultaneously jumping for the door and starting to shoot blindly behind you. You eventually jumped on your horse. “C’mon, we gotta leave, get outta here.” Your mare seemed to sense the urgency and ran as fast as it possibly could.

“To your good health, Arthur.” That voice sounded strangely familiar but where did you know it from? A few days had passed and you started to build a new life away from the O’Driscolls, away from your old way of living – or at least from the killing. You still stole and robbed to survive. Currently sitting on a bar stool, you turned your head slightly towards the source of noise and indeed, there he was – Dutch van der Linde. Your stares met for a brief moment, before you quickly turned around again. Goddammit!Leaving your old life behind you wasn’t as easy as you thought. Shortly after, you risked another glance. Did he recognize you? If so, he didn’t let it show. Better get going, you thought to yourself and stood up to head straight towards the door. Just as you stepped out of the saloon, you noticed movements behind you. Loudly whistling for your horse, you grew anxious. Did he know who you were – or better who you used to be?

Your mare trotted too slow for your liking through the streets and ultimately you two arrived in the open with no one around. The first thing you perceived were the hoofbeats. Was someone being chased? You turned around, but couldn’t see too much. It was already dark at night by now. The sounds got closer quickly, too quick for your mare to run away. The next thing you felt was a rope around your torso, quickly followed by the pain of falling down your horse. Damn, that hurt. “Got him, Dutch!” Whose voice was that again?

The ride on the back of the horse was anything but comfortable, especially hogtied, but soon you arrived in a camp. “Welcome to your new home. Hope you’re real happy here.” Dutch said with sarcasm in his voice. “Do you want me to make him talk?” The burly man said. You just couldn’t remember his name. Was it Alvin? No. Maybe Allan? “Oh no, Arthur. Now, all we’ll get is lies. Uncle, Mr. Williamson, tie this maggot up some place safe! We get him hungry, first.” His gaze landed on you again and burned into your eyes. “I got a saying, my friend. We shoot fellers as need shooting, save fellers as need saving and feed ‘em as need feeding. We’re gonna find out what you need.” Dutch turned to walk away, before continuing. “I can’t believe it! An O’Driscoll in my camp!”

Your capture happened almost a week ago and you grew more and more impatient. Nobody listened to you, gave you any food or even spared you a glance. It was frustrating, really. Right now, the sun was rising after another night being tied up and your whole body just hurt. You watched around camp and saw Dutch approach you with a devilish smirk. “O’Driscoll, you ready to talk?” He asked you, looked you up and down, clearly pleased with your current state. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not an O’Driscoll anymore. Goddammit! Screw this place! Screw your gang and most importantly, screw you, Dutch van der Linde! I’m never going to tell you anything. Even if I did have some information about where Colm could be, I’d never tell you, so leave me alone!” If your outburst surprised Dutch, he didn’t show it in the slightest. Instead, he stepped closer to you, his face now inches away from yours and his hand grabbing your cheek harshly. His voice threateningly low. “You’re going to talk. The only question is now, or after I’m done with you.”

Dutch took a few steps back from you, resulting in him standing now opposite of you. “If you don’t want to talk voluntary, I will have to help you.” You rolled your eyes, before answering sarcastically. “Oh please, what are you going to do? Kill me? I believe you need me alive, don’t you?” Dutch laughed quietly, shaking his head slightly. “Well, Mister, let me tell you that you won’t like what’s about to come.” He pulled out his revolver and emptied all but one bullet from it. “I’m going to show you some manners. We are going to play a nice little game. I’ll probably shoot you eventually, but up until then you have the opportunity save your own life.” You gulped audibly and your body grew tenser by the minute. His hand with the shiny revolver in it raised almost in slow motion, his finger twitching slightly on the trigger.

By now, you were sweating profusely. “So, Mister, do you have anything to say?” Dutch stared you dead in the eyes. “No, Mister van der Linde. I’ve got nothing to say.” Click. You flinched and waited for the pain, which oddly didn’t come. “Oh, how lucky you are to still be alive.” He said, before reloading his gun. “Changed your mind yet?” With the second possibility to get shot, you grew more and more nervous. Should you tell him what you knew? You did in fact have a few information, after all, Colm planned his heists and travels quite a bit in advance. Click.

“Still testing your luck I see?” Dutch was about to reload his gun again, but… “Okay, goddammit! I’ll tell you. Colm’s on the Hanging Dog Ranch right now with a dozen of his fellow gang members.” You almost screamed at him out of breath. “Why, thank you kindly. Wasn’t too hard, was it?” He smirked again satisfied, before leaving you tied up to find the others. “Boys, we’ve got work to do. Let’s go. John, Arthur, Charles, Micah, let’s ride! Bill, Javier, you too! Come on, let’s go!

A/N: Hiya! First off, thank you so much! I’m glad, you enjoy my other works. Sorry this took so long, I wanted to get the dialogue right. If you wanted something more in the nsft-ish-way let me know and I’ll gladly adapt it. Hope you enjoy!

[ninjettey]

Boys and Aliens

Experiment 626 - A.K.A. Stitch escapes from the Intergalactic Prison Transport.  The stolen police cruiser lands near Hawaii, but Stitch bailed out early, landing on the beach of Santa Carla.

AN:  No Lilo.  The trial dialogue is almost verbatim from the Lilo and Stitch movie.  I do not own The Lost Boys or Stitch.

Chapter One

The Galactic Alliance councilman of all universal species were gathered in the massive coliseum.  The Grand Councilwoman heading the proceedings of one Dr. Jumba Jookiba.  An intelligent alien teetering on the line of insanity and brilliance.  He was being charged with unethical experimentation in genetics.  Jumba was heavily restrained and surrounded by guards on a floating platform in the center of the coliseum.  

The Grand Councilwoman calls for silence before addressing the accused, “Read the charges.”

Gantu, Captain of the Galactic Alliance read Jumba’s charges out loud, “Dr. Jumba Jookiba-- lead scientist of Galaxy Defense Industries-- you stand before this council accused of illegal genetic experimentation.”

The coliseum was filled with hushed conversations in regards to the charges.  Some repeating rumors of horrid experiments gone wrong.  Or of the many times the doctor has relocated his laboratories to not raise suspicion.  When the Grand Councilwoman speaks, every being quiets, “How do you plead?”

Jumba stood tall, confident that his experimentations were safely locked away in his laboratory.  He was not going to lose.  Not this time.  With a clear and concise voice, “Not guilty.  My experiments are only theoretical--completely within the legal boundaries.”  

The coliseum burst in volume as everyone spoke their own opinion.  The doors behind Jumba open.  A massive containment unit floating into the room.  Stopping near the center.  Grand Councilwoman states, “We believe you’ve actually created something.”

The containment unit could be seen by every being.  It proceeded to open.  Jumba laughs, “Created something?! Ha! But that would be irresponsible and unethical. I would never, ever--… make more than one!”  Inside a glass case was a little blue creature with big ears twitching with every sound, two antennae on the top of his round shaped head.  Big, black bottomless eyes taking in his surroundings.  His puppy-like nose is overwhelmed with the scents of every being.  Four arms, two of which have the ability to shrink into himself to become a quadaped, three digits and opposable thumbs on each fur covered paw. Several spikes that act as additional antennae on his back.  He was wearing an orange and red zipper-front jump-suit.

Captain Gantu blurted out, “What is that monstrosity?”  Jumba sputters at the insult, “Monstrosity! What you see before you is the first of a new species. I call it Experiment 626. He is bulletproof, fireproof and can think faster than a supercomputer. He can see in the dark and move objects three thousand times his size! His only instinct: To destroy everything he touches!”  Jumba falls over in his restraints as he cackles.

The Grand Councilwoman is shocked at the sight of the creature, “So, it is a monster?”  Jumba stops cackling like a lunatic, “Only a little one.”  Gantu voices his opinion, “It is an affront to nature.  It should be destroyed!”  Grand Councilwoman lifts her hand to stop the chatter, “Calm yourself, Captain Gantu. Perhaps it can be reasoned with. (to Stitch) Experiment 626, give us some sign you understand any of this. Show us that there is something inside you that is good.”

Experiment 626 ceases his efforts to escape the glass containment to answer the council, “MEEGA NALA KWEESTA! (I WANT TO DESTROY!)”

The audience gasps.  The Grand Councilwoman clutches her chest, “So naughty.”  Experiment 626 laughs hysterically while Jumba claims he didn’t teach him that, still trying to convince the council of his innocence even with the evidence laughing in their faces. Gantu issues the order, “Place that idiot scientist under arrest.”  Jumba could be heard yelling, “I prefer to be called EVIL GENIUS!”  As he put in his own containment unit and quickly shuttled away.

The Grand Councilwoman issues her judgement on the creature, “And as for that abomination, it is fiord project of a deranged mind. It has no place among us. Captain Gantu, take him away.”  Gantu cracks his knuckles, “With pleasure.”

On board the prison transport, Experiment 626 is restrained to the ceiling of a cell, upside down with only his head visible.  Two massive, eight barrel laser cannons pointed in his direction.  Gantu taunts the creature, “Uncomfortable? Aw… Good! The council has banished you to exile on a desert asteroid. So, relax… enjoy the trip and don’t get any ideas! These guns are locked onto your genetic signature. They won’t shoot anyone but you.”  Gantu walks away from the creature as one of the cell guards takes a syringe with the creature’s blood and injects it into the cannons.  “Secure the cell.”

Captain Gantu returned to the bridge, “All ahead full.”  The prison transport and the following brigade started the flight to the deserted asteroid.  Experiment 626 was twisting in his restraints, loosening them up so he could escape.  The cannons followed his every move, and that’s when an idea struck him.  He used his saliva to gauge the reaction of these cannons and found they followed the dribble.  The noise from his experiment captured the attention of the only present guard.  The creature spit a massive wad of saliva onto the guard, triggering the cannons.  This provided the distraction he needed to break free and escape his cell.

A female copilot announced, “Gunfire!  In the cell bay!”  

The creature had gotten loose, ventured into the ventilation system and exited into a loading bay.  Stealing a police cruiser, he blasted through the loading bay doors and flew into space.  He passed by the bridge windows and one alien noted, “He uh… took the red one.”  

Other police cruisers closed in on the creature’s craft.  He had punched through the dash to disable the tracking system.  He could hear the commands flowing through the coms device on the dashboard.  It was then he knew he would have a better chance of escaping if he activated the hyper-drive.  The damage from the punch to disable the tracking system, also damaged navigation.  He activated the hyper-drive with no predetermined designation.  

With no way to track the creature, the Galactic Alliance didn’t know where to begin to look for the creature.  The Grand Councilwoman had issued an order to watch for any suspicious activity anywhere in the universe.  “It is going to take a millennia to find that abomination.  Gantu, I am putting you in charge of tracking down that creature.”  Gantu hung his head in shame, “Yes, Grand Councilwoman.”

Meanwhile

626 comes out of hyper-drive near Earth.  He flies towards the unknown planet.  The pressure from entering the atmosphere has the craft groaning, the internal pressure building up.  626 releases the ejector seat, landing on a desolate beach at night, the craft crashes hundreds of miles away in the ocean.  The advanced craft was not detected on Earth’s radars.  626 released the restraints of the seat, pulled off the suit and threw everything into the ocean.  Getting rid of any evidence of his arrival for now.

He took a look around.  Several hundred yards away were bright lights of some sort of amusement park.  626 cautiously moved towards it.  He was about one-hundred yards away from this amusement park when he heard some loud, rambunctious laughter, then a small voice crying for help.  On the other side of a sand dune was a bonfire and a group of grown, intoxicated men tossing around a small child.  626 being new to the planet needed someone to show him around.  This small, innocent being may be able to help him adapt to this planet before he destroys it.

Rushing towards the group of men, 626 claws, bites and tears apart the men.  Leaving the normally golden sand below his paws crimson red and sticky.  The small being lifts his head from the ground, his face bloodied and swollen.  He looks around and sees various body parts strewn around the area and a strange creature with four arms walking up to him.  626 approaches the boy, “Meega 626.”  The creature gestures to himself, then to the boy, “Yuuga?”  The boy takes a swallow breath, “Laddie.  Thank you.”  The boy promptly passed out.  626 sniffed the boy for his scent and possibly scents of others like him.  He turned his nose to the sky trying to catch the scent of the others, finding it leads to the amusement park.

Picking up the boy with his top two arms, he runs towards the boardwalk, keeping in the shadows.  The scent of the others has become very strong above his head.  He tilted his head listening to the raised voices above him, “You were supposed to keep an eye on him Star!  Laddie could be anywhere.  So help me, if he is hurt, I will tear you apart.”  626 perks up when he recognizes Laddie’s name.  He gently sets Laddie down and climbs the post to the top of the boardwalk.  626 sat on the top railing looking at the five humans staring at him.

The group of four men and one woman turn towards the noise of something crawling up the side of the boardwalk.  It perched on the top railing.  This strange creature just looks at them with it’s big black eyes.  They can see it’s covered in blood.  The man with long, dark hair is the closest to 626.  He could smell Laddie’s blood on him as well as the blood of other men.  The man moves to grasp the creature, but 626 jumps out of reach.  “Where is he?  Where is Laddie?!” The man yells, his eyes shifting to a yellow with red outer line before shifting back.  626 points to under the boardwalk with one of his paws.

The man brushes past 626 and jumps over the railing landing in the sand next to the boy, “Laddie!”  The boy jolts awake hearing one of his brothers calling his name.  “Dwayne, where’s 626?” Laddie asked in a quiet voice as Dwayne picked him up.  The other three men followed Dwayne down.  The man with a really poofy mane asked, “What’s 626?”  “He saved me from Surf Na….” Laddie’s heavy lidded eyes close as he passes out again.  His breathing is raspy and shallow.  A classic sign of broken ribs.  One of the men dressed in all black and short hair spoke, “Dwayne, take Laddie back to the cave.  The rest of us will find where Laddie was attacked.  Star?”  The girl looks at her ex.  He handed her some money.  “Get something to eat.”  His way of telling her to go away.  Dwayne left on his bike with Laddie.

626 was watching from the shadows under the boardwalk.  He looked back and forth between the boy leaving on a motorcycle and the rest of the group.  One of them looked in the general direction of 626, “You can come out.  We’re not going to hurt you.”  This one had on an interesting, colorful, patch-covered jacket.   The creature moved out from behind the pillar he was partially hiding behind.  The men looked up at 626, he was on the under-side of the boardwalk looking down at them.  626 tilted his head, narrowed his eyes at the men.  He didn’t want to trust them, but they don’t seem afraid of him and he doesn’t have a choice.  626 crawled down the post, approaching the men with caution.  

Marko, Paul and David were able to get a better look at this strange creature.  They couldn’t look away from this four armed, big eyed creature that looked like it belonged in a Sci-Fi movie.  The four beings were distracted from their staring contest when a dog barked.  626 looked at the noisy creature running on the beach, then himself and decided to try and blend in better.  These men watched as 626 pulled two of his arms, his antennae on the top of his head, and the spikes on his back into his body.  Now, 626 looked more like a weird species of canine.  Poofy mane enthusiastically exclaimed, “That was so cool.  I’m Paul.”  He pats the one with the brightly colored jacket covered in patches, “This is Marko, and the one in all black is David.”  

David rolled his eyes at Paul.  The stoner is way too cheerful sometimes.  David lit a cigarette before speaking to 626, “Can you show us where you saved Laddie?”  626 nodded his head, “Ih.”  They went back to their bikes.  626 got excited when he saw them.  He climbed onto the gas tank of the closest one, which turned out to be Marko’s.  The guys chuckled at him.  Marko mounted his bike and told 626 to hold on.  Kicking their bikes to life, they drove down the nearest stairs and onto the beach following the general direction 626 pointed.  The closer they got to the slowly dying bonfire, the stronger the smell of blood got.  

The guys parked their bikes and climbed up the sand dune.  They looked back and forth between 626 and the mess he made.  Paul and Marko suddenly bust out laughing.  They laugh so hard there’s tears running down their faces.  David chuckles, “Impressive.  Come on boys, let’s help him clean up.”  626 was a little confused but he helped throw what’s left of the Surf Nazis into the bonfire.  Once done, David crouches to 626’s level, “It would be best if you stayed with us.  Most people wouldn’t react the way we did.”  Knowing David was right, 626 went with them back to their cave that they call home.

Dwayne looked up as the rest of the guys and 626 entered the cave.  He stood from where he was sitting on Laddie’s bed.  The boy had been bandaged, given some blood from the ‘wine’ bottle they keep and was falling asleep.  David asked, “How is he?”  Dwayne ran one of his hands through his hair, “He has a concussion, broken ribs, busted lip, and his left arm was broken.  Did you find the assholes that did it?”  David looked over his shoulder at 626, who was crawling up the wall exploring the cave, “Yeah.  Little guy tore them apart.  Five Surf Nazis have been taken out.”  Laddie’s small voice was heard, “Six.  There were six.”  A sound pretty similar to that of a cat hacking up a hairball was heard from 626.  He had coughed up a wallet and a cheap watch.  The guys didn’t even bat an eye.  Marko picked up the wallet soaked in drool, “Welp, I think we know what happened to Greg.”  The guys all shared a look, “He could be our very own Hellhound.”

Dwayne went up to 626 to really look at him.  He tilted his head, “What are you?”  626 brought his other two arms, antennae and spikes out, “Meega Experiment 626.”  He points towards the outside, “Me crash.”  Those two, broken English sentences explained quite a bit.  “Okay boys, got ourselves an actual alien,”  David sat in his wheelchair.  626 felt a little worried, thinking these beings were going to alert the Galactic Alliance.  Dwayne was still watching the small creature and saw the look on his face.  “We won’t tell anyone you’re here.  We are not exactly law-abiding citizens.”  626 was relieved for the moment.  He still planned on destroying the planet.  But he would need to commandeer or build a ship first.  His thoughts were interrupted by Marko, “Why don’t you make yourself at home.  We’re going to sleep soon.  We sleep during daylight.”

Looking around the cave, 626 spots the boy, Laddie’s bed.  The alien gets on the foot of the bed, burrows under the blanket and gets comfortable.  He was asleep before the sun rose.  Star returned and went to bed without saying a word to anyone.  The guys glared at her back, waiting for the day she either turns fully or they get permission to kill her.  She has one job, and that is to look after Laddie.  Star keeps screwing that up.  If it wasn’t for 626, Laddie would have died tonight.  The sun was starting to rise, so the guys ventured to their subcave to sleep.

[the-alice-of-hearts]

Kids again Ch 1

AO3 Next>

Ch 1: She likes to drink her coffee black

Summary:

Soulmates come in twos; At least they usually did

98% of the world's population has a soulmate bond. Of those, 80% have platonic bonds. Only .2% of all soul bonds connected more than two people.

Having three soulmates is exactly the kind of cosmic joke the universe would play on a True Wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous. If it gives a boy who still had a lot of life to live a second chance, well that is still in Creation's domain, now isn't it?

Marinette loved the boy in her heart, and the other two links were twisted around each other in a way only romantic pairs could be. If only she could have loved him enough to save him /||\ Jason wanted, more than anything, to protect the girl who his heart belonged to; protect her from the harness of the world, and then from what he had become.

But we're getting ahead of ourselves here, let's start at the beginning.

Ch 1: She likes to drink her coffee black

The first time Jason looked into his Soulmate’s life she was happy. Whoever she was, she seemed happy. The first strong emotion that he got from her was pure bliss and a sense of major accomplishment. The first time he got to see through her eyes he was eight years old. She was rushing out the door waving goodbye to smiling parents, a thermos in one hand and a cute pink backpack in the other. He cherished this memory like no other. There were other strong emotions from the bond, most of them were similar. She was happy and seemed strong. After that, Jason tried not to let his emotions overwhelm him; he didn’t want the girl with the happy laugh and the pink backpack to see where he was.

He knew he didn’t do as good a job as he tried. The feeling of worry in his heart that he knew came from her told him so. He could feel when she worried about him not eating enough, so he tried not to go to bed hungry too often. He could feel when she would panic because she hadn’t felt anything from him for too long. He would go and listen to the musicians playing on the streets; trying desperately to feel as happy as he could for her.

When he had gotten stabbed defending another kid from a man with a knife, he wasn’t sure if his panic was his own or hers. He felt like he was watching someone die though, so he was pretty sure it was her panic feeding into his own pain. He made sure to take care of himself so that she didn’t think he had died.

This went on for a long time; him looking in and seeing small bits of her life and later try to send good things back as much as he could. He figured out she was from Paris when the Eiffel Tower was in so many of the small glimpses he saw. So, he stole an English to French dictionary. He then found a bookstore, he could steal from it pretty easily, that had a copy of a book filled with his favourite fairy tales in French. He learned French, then he took it as his language elective. Slowly, he started to understand what she was saying in his visions of her. She had a small number of friends, but they were pretty close. She still worried about him far too often, but he noticed that on days where she was worried she would go out of her way to be as happy as possible. It was like she was trying to make him warm from the inside. And on those days, when was cold and hungry and desperate for a safe place to sleep, he would hold on to her happiness and promise himself that he would be happy for her tomorrow.

When he became Robin he was worried about her finding out. What if Bruce made him stop being Robin? For this reason, he stayed quiet about his Soulmate. Most bonds were platonic anyways, so he just didn’t mention that his bond was romantic.

He hoped she would at least get to see happier emotions from him. He knew that she had to have seen some of where he grew up, but he wanted to believe that maybe she would now get to see these happier moments. Jason vowed to live every happy moment to its fullest.

He hoped she got to see Alfred teaching him to cook, and him learning how to bake all her favourite pastries. He hoped she saw Dick teaching him gymnastics, seeing all the times he fell but got back up. He wanted her to see him and Dick goofing off and the times they would go sneak off behind Bruce’s back when he told them not to skip patrol to do just that and get ice cream in the suits. He hoped she saw him and Bruce sitting in the library reading, the two of them watching movies together when he was too sick to patrol. He wanted her to see that he had a family that loved him now. He hoped that she wouldn’t worry about him so much anymore; that he wouldn’t be a burden on her anymore.

He thought he had hidden this from his new family, but somehow Alfred always knew everything. Jason almost panicked when Alfred broached the conversation while he was teaching Jason to make macarons

“Does your Soulmate have a favourite flavor, Master Jason?”

“I- uh,” he tried to come up with a way to deny it, but knew that he would never get something past Alfred. Still he tried, “What do you mean?”

Alfred smiled, not looking away from measuring the ingredients. “Growing up, my best friend had a Soulmate that grew up in a troubled home. He told me he knew when she was in a better place because she started pouring emotions into everything she did so that he could feel, as well as see, that she was safe.” Alfred turned back to the cabinet looking at their ingredients. “I just thought that you seemed to be doing something similar. I apologize if I misread the situation.”

Jason stood there thinking for a moment. He looked around and listened to make sure Bruce wasn’t about to walk into the kitchen. He moved closer to Alfred so he could whisper, ”Her name is Marinette. I heard one of her friends call her Netté, though.” When Alfred didn’t stop him from talking he kept going. “She likes matcha ones best, but she always tells her mom that she likes strawberry ones because they're less work.”

That was all that was said. They finished making the cookies and Alfred packaged them up for him to have in his room. Jason was pretty sure that Alfred knew he was hoarding food, but so long as no one stopped him and probably even if they did he would keep doing it. Living on the streets taught him that a next meal isn’t guaranteed, and even if it was unlikely he would ever go hungry under Alfred’s watchful eyes, he still wanted a back up plan if he needed to make a break for it.

The next time someone asked about her was about a year later on a stakeout in Blüdhaven with Dick. Bruce had gotten scared when Jason got hurt and wouldn’t let him patrol in Gotham until his injuries had completely healed. Jason got antsy and ran away to crash on Dick’s couch until Bruce let up on the restriction.

Dick had just sat down next to him on the building they were on. “Hey, Little Wing”

Jason turned to him. “Yeah?”

“Do you ever try to send your soulmate messages?”

Jason’s throat closed up in terror. Dick kept talking as though he hadn’t noticed Jason tensing up and planning an escape route. “It’s just, sometimes I see what he’s seeing and I don’t know how to tell him that I want to look out for him, ya know? And his dad is kinda distant, but his mom loves him a lot. I don’t know though, because sometimes I can feel dread coming from my soul link but without any glimpses into what he’s seeing. Alfred thought maybe I have a platonic soulmate that is experiencing dread. Lately I’ve only had happy and joyful feelings so I’m worried that if I do have a platonic soulmate that maybe something bad happened to them. I have no idea how I would be able to send a message to a platonic soulmate though, so I wondered if maybe you knew?”

Jason had slowly gotten more confused while listening to his brother. He hadn’t considered the possibility of having more than one soulmate. “Wait, you mean you can have more than one Soulmate? I thought Soulmates were pairs?”

Dick shrugged. “My parents explained it being more like pieces of the same picture. Most bonds are platonic and platonic bonds are more likely to be someone who you grew up near, so you would have similar experiences with similar emotional responses. That’s why people don’t always notice them, but when you have a romantic bond that you can actually see through each other's eyes, you notice, yeah?”

Jason nodded. “So you have a romantic Soulmate, but think you also have a platonic bond?”

Dick ran a hand through his hair staring out at the windows they were watching, “Yeah, I don’t know how to describe it though. Honestly, I’m pretty sure I have three soulmates. The third is a lot quieter though. My mom laughed once and told me maybe it wasn’t that I had three soulmates, but that my soulmates had another link to each other.”

“Does that happen?”

“I don’t think so, but the stories about that happening are more fairy tale than concrete evidence. I like to think I have three though. I hope that, whoever my platonic bond is, they have their own romantic bond they can lean on. I don’t know if there is anything I can do for them unless I figure out who they are.”

Jason scoffed and then went on the alert seeing movement in the room. “We’ve finally got company.”

Dick smiled and ran back a few steps. “Wanna see me do a flip into the window?”

“Ten bucks says you don’t break the glass and fall on the ground.”

He laughed at that. “Be ready to pay up, Little Wing. I’ll get the two gunmen, then you swing in and help me with the others.”

He took a running start and jumped off the roof they had been on, doing a flip to keep his momentum up. He crashed through the glass rolling into a handspring, kicking the guns out of the two goons' hands. Jason followed using his grappling hook to get across to the now-broken window.

A short fight later and they had the men all tied up. Dick called the police with the info and then they were grappling away from the scene.

“Hey, Dick?”

“Yeah?”

“Earlier you said that you wanted to figure out who your platonic soulmate was.”

Dick landed on top of the building his apartment was in, then looked at him. “Yeah. I just want to know if I can help them.”

Jason followed him down the fire escape, “I thought that soulmates knew when they found each other; you make it seem like that’s not how it works?”

Dick walked into his room to grab clothes. “When you only have one soulmate, there is a glow when you touch each other the first time. It’s your soul telling you it’s complete, but if you have more than one you only get that if you find all the pieces of your soul.”

“Oh.” He caught the pants Dick threw at him. “Thanks for talking to me about this. I guess there was a lot I didn’t know.”

They crashed on the couch to play video games and eat leftovers. The conversation hung heavy in the air, though. Jason felt like, if he talked first, he would tell Dick everything, but, if Dick had had a romantic Soulmate this whole time, then Bruce had to know about it.

He looked up at his brother from where he was laying with his legs over the side of the couch. “Does Bruce know you have a romantic Soulmate?”

Dick looked down at him from where he was perched on the back of the couch. “Yeah? Why?”

Jason shot Dick's character while he wasn’t paying attention, trying to make him stop looking at him like that. He mulled over the question while avoiding the looks Dick was still giving him during his respawn times. In a small voice he finally answered, “He didn’t make you stop being Robin?”

That made Dick pause the game. He dropped down to sit on the cushion of the couch, leaning his head over Jason to look him in the eyes. “Jason, Alfred would never let Bruce use one of us having a Soulmate as a reason to kick us out of the suit.”

Jason pushed him back so he could sit up. Turning to look at him, he took a deep breath. “He kicked me out of the suit for being hurt. He fired you and sent you here. Why would having a Soulmate be any different?”

Dick reached out and hugged Jason. He felt Dick’s shirt becoming wet from tears he hadn’t realized he was crying. “Oh, baby bird, no, that’s not gonna happen, and if Bruce tries it, then you have a place here. You did really good back there, I would love to have your help anytime.”

Jason sniffled and wrapped his arms around Dick. “What if he tries to make you send me back?”

Dick was still rubbing circles on his back, talking soothingly. “Bruce can’t make me do anything. My bank account has Alfred as my responsible party, and Clark is the name on the lease. If you want to stay here you can, and no one gets to take my brother away from me okay?” Jason nodded, still sniffling but getting his tears under control. “Now enough sad talk. How about I kick your ass in this game and tomorrow I’ll take you to the gym I use and help you with your flips.”

Jason laughed wholeheartedly at that. Sitting up and discreetly wiping his tears, he grabbed his controller again. “Don’t know why you keep trying. You’re not gonna win at this any more than I’m gonna be able to do a backhandspring tomorrow.”

And that was it.

Bruce either didn’t know about his romantic Soulmate, or he really didn’t care. Jason started keeping a journal of written notes about her. He wanted to be able to find her one day, so he needed to know everything he could.

An incomplete list of things I know about my soulmate

Her name is Marinette

Her friends also call her Netté or Mari

She drinks a lot of coffee, usually black. She grabs it on the way to class. Is that a french thing? I feel like I only ever see her with coffee? That can’t be right, maybe it’s from the all-nighters? Her friends have teased her about not sleeping before. Is that more often than I think?

She ignores her own needs to help her friends

She’s like a year younger than me I think.

Her nonna (grandmother?) calls her Marinetta or Little Fairy (could I call her Pixie?)

Lives in Paris

She has an Asian mother; Chinese?

She has an Asian name, but I don’t remember it. Her parents use it but not often enough for me to write it down

Her father is French-Italian

She is in gymnastics, but can be clumsy

Kim, Nino, and Alix are her friends.

Chloe used to be her friend. She doesn’t know what changed things

She likes to draw

She wants to be a clothing designer

She made me something? I couldn’t see what it was, but her mom was really proud of her accomplishment.

She is a really good baker

She likes matcha macarons best; but she never asks for them. She feels guilty about her parents making them just for her

She can lift a giant bag of sugar like it weighs nothing

She likes to help people

She likes pink

She is nice and good. At least I think so.

The list was in a small red notebook. It stayed with him all the time; that way whenever something happened, he could write down any details. He filled the other pages of the book with things he wanted to tell his Soulmate, small bits of his life that he wanted to share with her. He had a spot in his utility belt for it to be, and a pocket in his jacket that he kept it in. He had once shown Dick the list and the pages that he had written about him and Alfred. He smiled when Dick showed him his own similar notebook. Dick’s romantic Soulmate was also from Paris; they both wondered if their Soulmates knew each other.

Jason liked to think so

[babypandawrites]

Allies, Pt. 5

The Blue Spirit

Pairing: Sokka x F Reader Warnings: Death Threats Word Count: 2,742 Summary: While the sickness alimenting Sokka wasn’t affecting you, you still end up with some problems to deal with. 

-Navigation- | -Allies Masterlist- | -Atla Masterlist- 

“Haha! Classic Appa.”  Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed together as her and Aang walked into the temple that the siblings had been in. Sokka being sick was enough of a worry, him having delusions added another level of it.  “How’s Sokka doing?” Aang asked, as the two of them walked closer.  Katara looked at them, worry clearly written into her features. “Not so good. Being out in that storm really did a number on him.” She paused, looking at Y/n. “You're sure you're feeling alright Y/n?”  When Sokka got sick, Katara and Aang assumed that she would as well since she’d also been out in the storm with him. Turns out living in the forest without proper shelter for several years really amped up her immune system so she was a lot luckier than her friend was. That didn’t stop Katara from expressing concern every time she saw her, though.  “Yes, I’m sure Katara. Save your worry for your brother.”  She nodded, looking over at her brother when he sniffed back his runny nose.  “We couldn’t find any ginger root for the tea, but, we did find a map.” Aang brought out a scroll, and spread it on the ground. “There’s a herbalist institute on the top of that mountain. We could probably find a cure for Sokka there.”  “Aang, he’s in no condition to travel. Sokka just needs more rest. I’m sure he’ll be better by tomorrow.” Katara started to cough after finishing her sentence.  “Oh no.” “Not you too!”  “Relax you two, it was just a little cough. I’m fin-” She cut herself off with more coughing.  Aang took a step back and behind Y/n. “That’s how Sokka started yesterday. Now look at him- he thinks he’s an earthbender!” The three looked over at Sokka, who was swinging at the air. “Take that, you rock.”  Y/n nodded in agreement with Aang. “Yeah. A few more hours and you’ll be just as bad as he is.” She sighed, holding her head in her hand. “I knew you should have let me take care of him.”  Grabbing his glider, Aang went to the edge of the temple. “I’m going to find some medicine. Y/n, can you watch them?” A large flash of lightning cracked in the distance. “Uh, maybe it’s safer to go on foot.”  Y/n, who was getting Katara laid down and comfy, looked at Aang. “Maybe I should go with you, just in case, if you need to get something for an antidote it’ll be faster with the two of us.”  Glancing between her and the sick siblings, he was hesitant to agree. But, Y/n was right, and they should be fine up here. It’s out of the way, the Fire Nation shouldn’t find them. “Hmm.. Alright. Appa, Momo, keep an eye on them.”  Appa grunted, as Y/n joined Aang at the edge of the temple. Sokka laughed. “You guys are killin’ me!”  Aang grabbed onto Y/n, and used his airbending to launch them into the air, before safely landing far down onto the hill. 

They’d ran basically the entire way to the herbalist institute, once they got there, they barged in completely out of breath. A cat meowed, and jumped out of their way. Y/n had leaned her hands against her knees, attempting to catch her breath, while Aang babbled off to the herbalist.  “Hello! I’m sorry to barge in like this, but we need some medicine for our friends. They have fevers and they’ve been coughing and-” The herbalist cut off his quick speaking, mixing something in a bowl that sat in front of her. “Settle down, young man. Your friends are going to be fine.” She walked over to another table, where the cat was sitting. “I’ve been up here for over fourty years you know, used to be others, but they all left years ago.” She started to pet the cat, who began to purr in response. “Now it’s just me and Miyuki.” “That’s nice.”  “Wounded Earth Kingdom troops still come by now and again, brave boys, and thanks to my remedies they always leave in better shape than they arrive.” “That’s nice. Are you almost done?”  “Hold on, I just need to ass one last ingredient.” The herbalist walked amongst the shrubbery, looking around and muttering to herself.  Aang was exasperated, Y/n was starting to get the feeling this lady might be nuts.  The herbalist was looking for the ingredient for a while, the two of them just decided to sit themselves while they waited. They both sat with their heads resting on the table.  “Here’s what I was looking for! Plum blossom!” Both of their heads shot up, Aang got up and tried to take the bowl from the woman, but she smacked his wrist making him drop it. “Hands off! What do you think you're doing?” Aang’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Taking the cure for our friends?”  Y/n got up, and moved to stand behind him as the herbalist laughed aloud.  “Ahaha! This isn’t a cure, it’s Miyuki’s dinner.” The woman sat the bowl down on the table in front of Miyuku, the cat began to eat it. “Plum blossom is her favorite.” Aang breathed out a sigh. “What about our friends?”  “Well, all they need is some frozen wood frogs. There’s plenty of them down in the valley swamp.” “Why couldn’t you have mentioned that sooner?!” “What are we supposed to do with frozen frogs?” They spoke at the same time, the herbalist decided to only pay mind to Aang’s question.  “Why, suck on them of course!” Both of their expressions twisted into shock. “What?!” “Suck on them!?”  “The frog’s skin excretes a substance that’ll cure your friends, but make sure you get plenty. Once those little critters thaw out, they’re useless!”  Silence lingered in the air for a moment. Aang broke it.  “You’re insane aren’t you?”  “Thaaat’s right.”  “Wonderful. Aang, let’s go.” Y/n grabbed onto his wrist, and dragged his out of the building so they could go get these frogs. Soon after they left though, a pair of arrows was shot at them. An arrow landed on each side of the two. They looked around, as a large number of arrows zipped through the air at them. Aang used his airbended to blow them away. He reached down and grabbed one of the arrows from the ground, and held it out.  “Uuh, I think you dropped this.”  Both of their eyes widened as several archers surrounded them in the trees above.  Y/n glanced over to her friend. “We should probably run.”  “Yeah.” 

Running didn’t do much for them, seeing as the two ended up getting caught by the archers. This was… just great. Their captors had brought them to a Fire Nation base and separated them into different rooms. Y/n had been shackled by her wrist, with two short chains that connected to the floor. She struggled against the restraints, as someone opened the door to where she was being kept.  “Well, well, well, look who it is. I almost didn’t believe it when I was told that not only the Avatar was retrieved but you were as well, Y/n.”  Looking up, she glared at the man, but didn’t say anything.  “I always thought you were a lot of things, a traitor wasn’t one of them. Though I guess coward and traitor go hand in hand.”  Zhao stepped closer to her. “I have to keep the Avatar alive, so he doesn’t reincarnate. But, there’s nothing stopping me from killing you. I’m sure you’d love to join that pathetic mother of yours.”  “Don’t talk about my mother like that.”  He laughed. “Or what? You’ll handstand me to death? Maybe throw in a somersault? I’m so scared.”  She gritted her teeth as Zhao turned on his heel, walking back to the door.  “I have some business to take care of, you’ll be dealt with later.” He slammed the door behind him.  The way he spoke made her think that she would be facing death. Or worse.  Probably worse. 

Y/n went to grab the chains that held her in place, but stopped at hearing a commotion outside. “Aang please let that be you…”  The blue masked figure who pushed open the door was definitely not Aang. Though, judging by the knocked out guards in the hallway, they might not be here to kill her. They didn’t say anything as they approached her, and sliced the chains that held her down with their dual swords.  Wait… dual swords?  There was no time to dwell on the thought, the person was already leaving the room. Pushing herself off the ground she followed them, swiftly taking one of the guards' swords on the way out. She followed the masked person through the halls, silently following their stealthy movements.  They approached a hallway with a few guards watching over it. The masked person looked back at her, and nodded their head to the guards, before sneaking to the other end of the hallway. So she needed to deal with these guys, alright. Bringing her bow would have been a big help right now. Though on second thought, it probably would have just gotten taken in her capture.  She carefully slid through the shadows to get closer to the guards. There were only three of them, so this shouldn’t be too hard. Adjusting her grip on the sword, she stepped next to one of the guards and grabbed them by the shoulder. Using the handle of the sword, she jabbed it into a pressure point on the neck, causing the guard to collapse immediately. She ducked under a wave of fire sent her way, taking the chance to crouch and knock a guard to the ground. When his back hit the ground she grabbed onto his head and slammed it into the ground.  Once she knocked out the third guard, the masked person came back, this time dragging Aang by his collar. He perked up, as the masked person released his shirt collar and led them through the building.  “I’m glad you're okay Y/n.” He kept his voice to a whisper.  “Yeah, I could say the same to you.”  The masked person turned to look at them, telling them to be quiet by putting a finger to their mouth. After a bit more sneaking, the person slid down into a large grate, it led to the sewer. Y/n and Aang glanced at each other, before the latter motioned to the grate as a silent way to say ‘ladies first’. She rolled her eyes playfully, tucking the sword she stole into the rope tied around her waist, before slipping through the grate, Aang soon followed. They slid along the wall, as Fire Nation soldiers walked above. The masked person peaked up through some of the grates, they turned to look at the two and motioned upwards before climbing out. They must have gotten to an area clear of soldiers. Y/n grabbed onto the grates and pulled herself up through them, helping a slightly struggling Aang once she was up. The three ran through the base, to a conveniently placed rope that hung from one of the guarding walls. It was probably used to get in. Aang started climbing, the masked person going next, then Y/n last. As they were climbing an alarm sounded through the base.  “There, on the wall!”  A soldier appeared at the top of the wall and cut the rope they were climbing, sending the three falling. Aang shouted, but used his airbending so the three of them had a soft landing. The masked person unsheathed their dual swords, Y/n did the same with the sword she stole, and the trio started running.  “The Avatar has escaped! Close all the gates immediately!”  Aang ran to the front of the trio. “Stay close to me!”  As they got close to the closing gate, a group of soldiers blocked it, but Aang sent a blast of air to blow them out of the way. While he got close to the gate, Y/n and the masked person got surrounded by a group of soldiers. The two engage in battle with the soldiers, fighting together effortlessly. Aang stepped in, and used his airbending again to blow the soldiers away. Using a large gust of air he boosted the masked person up to the top of the gate then did the same to Y/n.  She landed at the top with a roll, knocking down one of the guards by crashing into his legs. By the time she got up, Aang was flying towards them by spinning a makeshift staff above his head. He grabbed onto the masked person by the torso with his legs to fly off with them. Y/n grabbed onto their leg so she didn’t get left behind. While Aang struggled to keep them all afloat, the two used their swords to block the spears being thrown up at them. 

The trio barely made it to the next wall, crash landing at the top of the gate. Almost immediately they were engaged in battle. There were three guards, each of them took one on. Y/n was able to shove the guard she fought off the wall of the gate, while the masked person and Aang did as well.  It was a struggle to do so, but they ended up making it to the final gate. Though they were still stuck on the inside, and hadn’t managed to get out yet. A small group of firebenders sent a blast of flames their way, but Aang was quick to push the two behind him and airbend the flames away.  Zhao held his hand up at the soldiers. “Hold your fire! The Avatar must be captured alive.”  The masked person slid up behind Aang, and crossed his swords over his neck. Y/n looked at them with wide eyes, but didn’t do anything. This was a ticket out, Zhao couldn’t risk Aang being killed and this person knew that.  “Open the gate.” Zhao spoke through gritted teeth.  “Admiral, what are you doing?” “Let them out, now!”  The gate opened behind them, and the masked person started to back out with his swords still crossed at Aang’s neck. Y/n backed out with them, keeping her gaze fixated on the soldiers with narrowed eyes. Suddenly, an arrow zipped through the air, and hit the masked person's well… mask. Knocked out, they fell backwards. After recovering from a moment of shock, Aang airbended a large cloud of dust around them.  Curious, Aang reached down to remove the person’s mask, revealing Zuko. Both him and Y/n looked at the Prince with wide eyes, shocked. Aang started to back away, scared, before tripping and falling backwards. Y/n didn’t move, expression contorting to a mix of both shock and concern. What had happened to him…  Aang had started to run away, but halted his steps when he realized Y/n wasn’t following. “Y/n, we have to go!”  “We can’t leave him...” Mumbling, she hooked her arms under Zuko’s and started to drag him along the ground, in the direction Aang had started running. The other hesitated for a moment, before he came over to help her. 

They’d found safety in the nearby forest. After laying Zuko down on the ground, Aang took a seat on a nearby root.  “I’ll stay here until he wakes up, you should get back to Katara and Sokka and make sure they're alright. I’ll get the frozen frogs on my way back.”  Y/n’s gaze bounced between the two. “Are you sure, Aang? I can stay if that would make you feel better.”  He shook his head. “I’d feel better knowing all my friends are safe. Zuko is dangerous, I don’t want to risk you getting hurt or worse.”  “...Alright.”  She was hesitant, but left the two and made her way back to the temple Katara and Sokka were at. They seemed to be doing fine, or as fine as they could be while sick. Aang returned not too long after Y/n, and put a frozen frog in Katara and Sokka’s mouths.  “Suck on these. They’ll make you feel better.” Aang collapsed onto Appa’s tail with a sigh. Y/n looked at him with a concerned expression.  “Are you okay, Aang?”  He offered a silent nod.  “How was your trip? Did you make any new friends?” Sokka’s words were slightly muffled, from the frog in his mouth.  “No, I don’t think so.” Aang rolled over, facing away from the others.

[butwhyduh]

Out of the darkness

Damian Wayne x reader

Part 2 of In the Darkness

Warning: a bunch of different phobias explored. Like a bunch. It’s fear toxin and things are bad. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Damian Wayne was practical, classic, precise. He could tell you the time within 20 minutes of the actual time and the direction you were facing no matter where you were. He didn’t believe in getting lost. He mastered Bartok - Violin Concerto No. 2 on the violin at 11. He could identify the origin and use every weapon in the bat cave and many others as well. He many martial arts as well as having a impeccable eye for important details. Damian excelled at many things due to his training from birth to be the best he could.

Poison training and identifying was something that started early. His mother would slip tiny amounts of different chemicals in his food and drinks for him to build up a tolerance. Fear toxin was one of many that he’d developed a fairly high tolerance to. It was a deeply unpleasant experience and the training stopped immediately when Bruce took Damian in. Bruce had been completely horrified.

Currently Damian was half cognizant. He slipped between nightmares and the reality of the situation that wasn’t much better. He was strapped on a table in a cold concrete room. His head hurt and his feet were ungodly cold.

Damian attempted to focus. This is fake. The monsters are fake. I am in this room, he forced. He controlled his breathing as he was taught. His mind cleared long enough to slip from the ties. They were amateur at best. Damian pulled his legs free and he tried to stand.

The room spun and the ground grew heavy. Damian slipped to the ground with a groan. This particular batch of fear toxin was potent. Or was continuously streaming in. He searched for a vent. Top right corner. There wasn’t any green mist falling from it but it could be invisible. Damian steeled himself and stood up to walk to the door.

He tried the knob but it melted apart in his hand like sticky honey on a hot day. Damian gagged a little before trying to push the door open. No luck. The walls began to move inward. He was going to be crushed in the tiny space as it grew smaller.

No.

It was fake.

He tried the knob again and it didn’t turn but it didn’t turn into goo. The wall wasn’t collapsing inward. He could escape. He just needed to work on it.

Your scream pierced his ears and he gasped. He had to save you now. He could hear you through the vent. He could use the vent.

Was it really you, his mind questioned as he shoved the old metal hospital bed towards the wall. The metal groaned before scraping the floor. Damian had no way of knowing if it was really you or his mind.

Damian climbed on the bed and grasped at the grate. The old metal bolts bit into his fingers as he twisted them out. Finally the grate fell on the bed. If Damian did a little jump, he could probably pull himself upwards. It was a blessing and a curse that he had grown so much in a relatively short time. He was pushing 6 foot tall and could reach the grate but weighing 180 lbs, could it hold him?

A menacing laugh filled the air and Damian froze in fear.

He turned to look around and was still alone.

But you might not be.

He jumped up and slid in the air conditioner duct. It was a tight fit. Damian was still smaller than his dad and at the moment was grateful. Bruce would have never fit. Of course, Drake could have slipped through easily. He pushed those thoughts aside.

Damian had no phone. No flash light. Complete darkness. He couldn’t turn around. He was just snaking his way towards the sound he heard of your voice. If it was even you.

It was you.

You were strapped to a hospital bed with leather belts. The material chafed your skin as you tried to yank away. You screamed for Damian. His name fell pitifully from your lips. You’d have no previous experience with any fear toxin and your first instinct was to scream. You could feel the way each scream ripped at your throat.

Damian had told you about his older brother, Father’s ward as he would say when mad. An old warehouse, murdered by the joker but punished with fear toxin first. Jason Todd talked in a smoker’s rasp. He didn’t smoke but the constant screaming had ruined his throat. You could feel the pain in your vocal cords but couldn’t stop.

The Manor was fake. The family there was fake. The room you currently lay in was real. Far too real. The damp musty air and bone trembling cold felt perfectly real.

The spiders crawling on your skin felt real too. You shrieked and tremors shook your body as you tried to throw them off. Tiny hairy legs brushed against your arms. Your face. You clamped your mouth and eyes closed.

If they climbed in your mouth... if they bit you... if they were poisonous. If the manor was fake and this room was real.... the spiders were real.

Damian cursed when you went silent. What direction was he traveling. How far was it till your room? Were you even here? No. He couldn’t think like that. He was already barely above a panic as the vent felt way too small, too tight.

Your violent struggles had one good side effect. The badly placed straps came loose. One hand yanked free and you scrubbed at your face, feeling no real spiders. You untied yourself other hand and tried to get up.

The bed shook and you panicked as you tried to pull your feet free. Cold icy laughter filled your ears and you clenched at your head to keep them out. You pulled free and fell to the floor. Icy water soaked through the knees of your pants and you shivered.

The room was so dim that you could barely see anything as you crawled on the floor. There was no way you could handle standing up. You slid your hands along the ground, touching bits of broken glass and small rocks. They bit into your palm and knees as you moved along. You felt along before feeling nothing. A drop.

You yanked your body back. The floor fell out smoothly. There was nothing in front of you. You grabbed a small stone and tossed it to hear the depth. You concentrated on listening and heard nothing. No sound? You tossed another to hear a similar lack of sound. The hole must be incredible deep.

You slowly slid backwards and turned to your right. Perhaps the hole wasn’t everywhere. You had to get out. You took about 10 paces forward? Maybe. It’s hard to tell when you keep hearing wings fluttering. The ground also stopped with an abrupt fall. The hole must be massive. You crawled back to the bed. It was the only thing visible in the dim light from a high dirty window.

The flapping sounds grew louder and you could almost hearing the fluttering of birds, no bats, right near your ears. You shrieked and swung your arms out to stop them. You could imagine little teeth and claws tearing at your skin. This seemed to make them furious and they hit and nipped your skin. You covered your head with your hands and cried out for Damian.

He heard your pitiful cry. He was going in the right direction. He hurried along the vent. He had no weapon. He was poisoned with fear toxin. And he had no idea what the location looked like. He was also completely blind in the dark vent. Father would have called this unfavorable odds indeed.

The vent took a slight turn and Damian gasped as something dug into his hand. He felt at it with his other hand. A thin metal cylinder connected to a large plastic cylinder that flared out. A syringe. He had a syringe in his hand. Ignoring the disease potential, it really showed how little he could see.

Damian’s hands shook as he pulled the needle from his flesh and he stifled a groan. He had no way of wrapping his hand. He also had another problem: feel for more syringes or turn around and go back to the room where he would be trapped once again. He grimaced before reaching his hand out slowly. There were more syringes. This time he didn’t get stabbed. He grabbed them and pushed them behind his body before slowly pushing forward. This was taking too long.

If you fell in the pit, not even Damian could save you. You felt like you were on a ledge. The world was pushing you to the hole. You grasped the frame of the bed tightly. Your grip on sanity was getting looser and you clung to the idea that Damian had to rescue you. He would fix things.

Damian could no longer slowly feel his way through. The vent felt tighter and hotter and harder to breath in. He was panting and he began crawling faster. You were definitely in trouble the way you were practically crying for him. Syringes bit at his skin in little nicks before one sunk into the flesh of his thigh right above his knee. Damian groaned and yanked it out.

But luck was in his side as he started to see light. The vent opened to another room. Barely visible was a bed and a figure on it. It had to be you crying. Your body shook as you bent over your legs, your head in your hands.

Damian pushed open the vent roughly and jumped in the room.

He was with the League of Assassins. Damian was a small boy again. He fell to his knees as his grandfather held a sword under his throat. Damian was powerless. Tears streamed down his face despite himself.

“You are only alive at my leisure,” Ra’s told him. Damian held back tears as he stared at the older man. “You are a disgrace and I intend to beat it out of you.”

The blade was removed and a boot replaced it. Damian was kicked to the ground and the older man kicked him in the ribs and stomach. He cried out involuntarily. His nose was broken. Sticky warm blood flowed into his open mouth as he sucked in a breath. Damian’s mother stood to the side, watching passively.

This isn’t real. It isn’t real. It’s a bad memory. Fear toxin just fear toxin.

Damian took several deep breaths; quite difficult when he felt the breaking of his ribs. He opened his eyes to see the room. And you crying in the bed. He moved on the bed to grab you.

“Don’t,” you cried as you pulled away. Your pupils were blown and he could see your chest rise and fall heavily.

“It’s me. Damian. I won’t hurt you. I’m here to save you,” he said trying to be gentle. His own heartbeat was flying and he kept hearing the laughter of the Joker that he was 80% sure was fake.

You looked at him warily. Once sure that it was Damian, you flung your arms around him.

“There’s a hole. In the middle of the room. It has to be huge,” you said quickly. You shook like a leaf.

“A pit. Smart,” Damian commented. He really wished he had his night vision goggles. He couldn’t see anything more than a foot from the bed.

There was the sounds of screaming and fighting outside the door. A door. He could finally see a door. It must skirt right next to the edge of this damn pit. How could he get you to carefully walk around it when you were so lost in the toxin?

“I found a door. We have to go. I’ll help you. I’ll help,” he said trying to stand. You grasped at him tighter.

“No! The pit. The pit. You’ll fall. Don’t,” you pleaded, shaking your head side to side violently.

“It’s okay. We’ll be careful. We’ll be okay,” he said before pulling you up. Damian bent to the ground and started crawling. You grasped at the back of his shirt tightly. “We’ll go slow.”

Damian tried to ignore the feeling that he was on a ledge about to fall. Which was weird since he literally jumped from rooftops all the time. He never had fear of heights. You shivered and clung to him. The gaping hole seemed to want to swallow you whole. What was at the bottom? Would you fall forever, scraping at the slick walls until you lost your mind? Would you die quickly? Or was it a slow death as your broken body fell apart?

Damian edged you to the door and prayed that it was unlocked. It wasn’t but the knob was loose. He rolled his eyes and easily pulled it apart. He tossed it in the hole and couldn’t help but listen for the sound of it crashing. It never came. Was it a hole to infinity? He couldn’t think that way. He pulled you into the hallway. It was dimly lit but enough to stand up.

He was back at the League. He was not a little boy any more. His grandfather was on his deathbed. He grabbed Damian’s hand unnaturally tightly. Damian could see the gold and green clothing on his own arm.

“I knew you couldn’t leave. You were always my flesh and blood. Now you will lead the assassins. Your time with your father couldn’t break you from your true self. You’re an assassin. Why try to pretend to be something else? You will always be a killer,” the old man chuckled.

Damian yanked his hand free. “You’re wrong. I’m nothing like you,” he growled and wrapped his fingers around his grandfather’s throat. The old man held Damian’s wrists and pushed his hand harder against his windpipe. He had an awful grin on his face despite being choked.

Suddenly smaller softer hands gripped Damian’s wrists and tried to pull back. Tried to pull him off. Damian saw your lips make a small o as you tried to breathe. He dropped his hands instantly and you gasped in a breath. Damian’s hands ran along your face worried he had killed you.

No...Just a bruise. He could have.

He could have killed you.

He had to get you out. Was this real? Was anything real? Damian felt his grip on reality loosen. He grabbed your hand to pull you along but you almost fell over. Damian put his arm around your waist and half carried you along.

It wasn’t long until his legs began to shake from your extra weight and Damian was panting. Normally he could carry you around with no problem but hours? Days? of fear toxin had him absolutely exhausted. The only thing he was certain of was that it was night. Was it the same night as the movie? That felt weeks ago.

He powered through to a set of double doors. He was almost gasping for breath. Damian kicked them open with his foot and he was blinded by light.

It wasn’t night.

It was a well lit warehouse and there was a battle being fought. Batman kicked a guy in a ski mask to the ground and he didn’t get up. Nightwing swooped in and wrapped a rope around a guy who ended up hanging from the ceiling by his leg before he could react. Damian couldn’t see but hear Red Hood kick someone off the second floor delivery dock before the sound of gunshot.

He almost dropped you as he slid down the wall to the floor. You fell against him and gasped. Your eyes showed that you weren’t really there. You were still fighting the poison that threatened to pull Damian back under. You both were so vulnerable just sitting there. He knew he should move but his body just couldn’t.

Red Robin jumped down from a box with his staff in hand. He walked close and Damian looked away when his face split into a gaping blackness. It was fake. It was fake. It was only Drake.

“Hey buddy,” Red Robin said gingerly, walking slowly towards you both. He pulled out a small black leather bag. He pulled out a syringe and Damian wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He couldn’t get up but he tried to shield you.

“Don’t,” Damian tried to say with authority but it came out so softly. He couldn’t protect you. He failed.

“It’s okay. You just need to sleep. You’ll be okay,” Drake said. He popped off the syringe cover and grabbed Damian’s waving arm and gave him the shot despite his groans. Drake pulled out another syringe and gave one to you. You shrieked as you imagined a poison was being shoved into your skin. A green mark spread like tree branches beneath your skin and you clawed at your skin. In just a minute your hands dropped and you both fell asleep.

——————————

You woke in a med bay. A plain hospital bed in a cave. Damian was in the bed next to you and you quickly sat up.

“Slow,” said a woman. She offered a hand and you pulled away. “Don’t fall.”

Damian stirred and sat up too. He took a look at you and the woman and relaxed. His eyes closed and he took a deep breath. You looked at them warily. You’d thought you’d gotten out once.

“It’s done,” he said.

“Yes. You are safe,” she said.

“Cass, where is everyone? What happened?”

“Hold on,” she said motioning for you both to sit. She came back with none other than Bruce Wayne. Normally you would very nervous but you were too tired to care.

“How are you feeling?” He asked walking in to sit on the single chair in the room. Cass left the room. After he was sure that you were physically fine, he explained what happened.

“Scarecrow attacked Wayne tower. Luckily Batman was able to help find you both. It was fear toxin. It can make you see some really nasty things. I have a psychologist that specializes in childhood trauma in retainer. I’d highly suggest you both visit them. But you are safe. You’ve been given antitoxin. Do you have any questions?” He asked. His voice was even and purposefully soft. You shook your head. You were too overwhelmed to consider a single question.

“Did Batman catch Scarecrow?” Damian asked leaning his body over his bent knees. His face had one of his murderous looks. You noticed bandages on his fingers and across one palm. He had a thigh wrapped in gauze.

“No. Not yet.”

Damian’s hands curled into fists. “I hope he does.”

“Of course. Relax. Watch some television. I’ve already contacted your parents that you will be staying here for a few days. I’ll let you take the lead on what to tell them when you go home and I’ll help with any conversation,” Bruce said standing up. He stood by the doorway before leaving. “I’m glad you are both back home safe.”

Damian turned on something on the television mindlessly and sat stiffly in his bed. There was too much space and you felt alone. After a few minutes, you couldn’t help it but climb in his bed and slide into his arms. You hugged him tightly and he slung an arm over you. His eyes never left the show but you could feel him relax. You relaxed a little more. His hand ran across your back soothingly. For you or him, you couldn’t know. After a while you fell asleep on him. His heartbeat soothed the nightmares running through your mind.

Robin was gone for all of 3 days before being seen on the streets of Gotham. He hit harder and was more vicious. He found Scarecrow within 12 hours and almost beat him to death. The villain laid in Arkham in a coma for over a month.

[murderousginger]

She’s A God

Peaky blinder fic Tommy x reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Sass. Alcohol. They’re criminals guys, they do bad things.

Word count: 4,183

You often kept your head down at the office, typing up your work as a secretary in the Shelby Company Limited. You knew the kind of people you worked for and didn't want blue eyes interested in you unless it was an offhand comment on a good job on a task. 

One such pair of eyes passed you on the way to his office with a murmur of your name and the same as he passed Lizzie, whose desk was directly in front of his door. Tommy Shelby was very polite and quiet in the office, unlike his brothers.

"Good morning, Mr. Shelby," you said back as you ducked your head.

You dressed modestly in hopes to be overlooked, unlike some of the other women that were employed there. You would see their hungry eyes on Peaky men and the hope that they would catch attention. Sometimes they did. Moments spent in offices would occur before they were all but patted on the ass and sent back to their seats, their satisfied faces would turned back to their work. You never faulted those women but you weren't one for a tryst, especially one that could endanger you.

Today, you let your mind wander as you typed your work. Today, Tommy Shelby had placed invitations to his housewarming party on all of the desks in the office.

Everyone knew the Shelby family history like it was Small Heath lore.

From a young age, Tommy had decided he didn't believe in God. As a small boy with a hungry family, a dead mother, and a runaway father, he concluded pretty quickly that even if there was a God, he stopped stepping into Small Heath long before Tommy was born. 

Polly had taken the Shelby siblings in to raise when she was young and had a small family of her own. She ruled the house over the Shelby children and her own two with an iron voice and a quick hand. She worked while her husband drank away their money and she often put herself between him and the children when he decided to become violent. She had worked tirelessly to feed and clothe the kids, pushing them to get through as much schooling as they could in hopes for a better life. She stayed strong when her husband died, and fought to keep the kids and raise eight children by herself. She lost her children but managed to keep the Shelby's close.

She watched Tommy, Arthur and John work together to start the Peaky Blinders and provide protection for pay to Small Heath businesses. She sewed in the first razorblades into the boys caps, overseeing their attempts at replicating her work when they needed more for the neighborhood boys they recruited. 

She watched Arthur, then Tommy, then John, all enlist and leave for France, once bright boys with mischief in their eyes and dreams in their heads come back from war scarred, tempered, and broken. She hesitantly released the Peaky Blinders leadership to Tommy, slipping between soldier and advisor when it suited her. 

Everyone knew that Tommy Shelby might not have thought to fear God, but he feared his Aunt Polly. 

During your employment, you noticed that fear translated rather easily to respect of strong, intelligent women now he was an adult. It's not that Tommy disrespected women he didn't find intelligent, it was more that he shook them off once they lost their usefulness. Pretty women were to be looked at but rarely stayed around. Weak women were quickly discarded if they came around at all. The Shelby's were not known to be sensitive. But an intelligent woman? She was worth her weight in gold if she could be trusted.

Few outside of direct family were trusted. Wives -- if they lived long enough and proved helpful at family meetings -- and for a reason you did not understand, Lizzie Stark. 

You and Lizzie were friendly enough to each other. Not exactly best friends, but you would both take lunch together and enjoy each other's company from time to time. Too many women were jealous of Lizzie because of the moments she was called into Tommy's office and the shades were drawn. 

You pitied her. Not because of what she agreed to do with Tommy Shelby behind closed doors, but because you weren't sure the man had a heart that would ever open to a woman. You noticed the glances Lizzie would give him from time to time, and you felt for her. 

"Are you coming to Tommy's housewarming tonight?"

You jumped, shaken from the thoughts in your head, and saw Lizzie sitting on the edge of your desk looking down at you expectantly. 

"I'm not sure…" you trailed.

"Come with me, please!" Lizzie smiled, touching your shoulder. "It'll be a night of a free meal and flowing alcohol. We can take a car together. It'll be fun!"

"Are you not staying?" You immediately blushed as Lizzie shrunk back, her face pinched at the question. "No! Not like that. It's just… I wasn't sure if you would stay the night."

You tried to backtrack, to soften your question. 

"No, no, I know," Lizzie said with a soft smile as she shook off your comment. "I'm not staying. He's… not been visiting."

She let the comment hang before her eyes lit up again and she grabbed your hand.

"Though we both could stay. He's got plenty of rooms and offered refuge for anyone that comes and has a little too much fun."

"I'm not sure…" you looked back at your work and then back to Lizzie. 

"Have a little fun once in your life," she goaded. "You're always so serious and proper. Relax a little."

"I guess if it's one night," you said, nervously eyeing your work. You let go of her and resumed typing. Lizzie laughed and got off of the corner of your desk, pointing to you.

"Wear a nice dress," she said. "I'll be in a car to get you this evening. We'll go together. It'll be fun." 

You smiled and nodded. It wasn't that you didn't want to have fun. You were just wound up tighter than most. And although you lived in Small Heath your entire life, the Blinders were something you were leery of. 

You were used to being overlooked. You were comfortable that way. You weren't looking for attention and definitely didn't want it from men that were known to be dangerous. They might not be violent toward women on the streets but there were plenty of beaten wives behind closed doors in Birmingham and you wanted no part. You cared little for a husband. Your goal was independence. 

You took this job to remove yourself from your father's household. After years of him coming back from the factory or more typically The Garrison to beat you and your mother, you finally had enough. After a short time of saving, you bought board at a house and began to save what you could toward your own cottage. These were modern times and you put everything into being a modern woman. 

But one night wouldn't hurt your plans, and you had an idea on exactly which dress to wear.

----

You went home a mix between excited and worried. Your head raced with thoughts of who all would come, what would be served, would you catch someone's eye? Did you want to? How many blinders would be mixed into the crowd? Would it be dangerous? What if it was boring?

You smoothed your dress as you looked into the mirror and assessed your reflection. The flowy sage dress was covered in antique gold lace and made you feel divine. The green silk fabric made up the shift and the delicate lace covered the green fabric and your arms with sheer long sleeves. The dress itself stopped halfway up your calves, leaving a little skin and plenty of space to see your simple heels.

You had coveted it the moment you saw it in the window and bought it against your better judgement. One nice thing wouldn't hurt the goal of a cottage, you reasoned at the time. It was the nicest dress you had ever owned and now you had a reason to wear it. 

Lizzie arrived in a car outside your building and all but pulled you out of your door when you answered it, laughing as you fought back to close the door behind you. 

"Come on, (Y/N)," she laughed. "We can't be late. All the fun will be over."

You giggled as you both stumbled down your stairs and toward the car. You gawked at how short Lizzie's burgundy dress was, nearly above her knee, when you both sat down in the back seat. She smiled slyly as she noticed you look.

"Do you like it?" She asked, pulling on the beading. "I'm told it's the newest fashion in London." 

Lizzie's smile fell as you looked between your dress and hers, biting your lip.

"Your dress is gorgeous, too," she said as her smile widened and she dipped her head to meet your eyes. "Tonight's all a bit of fun. There will be all types of people in all types of dress. I bet you anything Shelly will be wearing something scandalous in attempts to gain Arthur's eye."

You both laughed. You nodded as you took her hand. 

"Or Mrs. May in something frumpy and terribly sized as she glares at the rest of us," you add, earning new fits of laughter.

"Ladies of this age have no respect for themselves," Lizzie mocked, her voice low and raspy. "You all look like you should be on your back near the canal."

"She would know, wouldn't she?" You snorted. "Acts like no one knew who she was before her marriage. Mum said she used to work the docks. Now she helps the church on Sundays."

Lizzie rolled her eyes. 

"I'll never understand women that can't accept their own past," she said. 

"That's why I appreciate you," you smiled, bumping her shoulder. "You don't pretend you're something that you're not."

"I'll leave the pretending for the rich folk," she mused as she leaned back on you. "Thank you for not being as judgmental as some of the other girls are."

You shrugged. 

"Not my place to judge."

----

The house was massive. You both audibly gasped as you turned into his drive and saw the house at the end of it. There was so much land. The driver entered the circle drive with the other cars, waiting until he reached the peak to stop for a young man to open the door and take Lizzie's hand. Another rounded the car and opened the door for you, tilting his flat cap with a "ma'am" as you allowed him to help you out of the car. 

You took his arm with a murmured thanks and he led you to the door. You and Lizzie both stood in the entryway wide-eyed as the chandelier glowed above you. There were already dozens of guests and more poured in behind you. Some were people you knew from work, while others had the signature cap, and even more were strangers dressed in far nicer clothes than yours. You started to grow uneasy in the chaos. 

Lizzie took your arm in hers and urged you to move forward, taking two glasses off of a tray and thrusting one into your hands. 

"Smile," she laughed, sipping her own drink. "This is a night to relax."

You nod numbly, downing your drink to calm your nerves. You hear Lizzie burst into laughter beside you as the bubbles fill your head.

Soon enough, Thomas Shelby appeared and everyone hushed, turning their attention to the man that had invited them all. He stood in a doorway, smile tight as he tried to scan the room to look at everyone and no one.

"Welcome, everyone, to my humble abode," Tommy said, eliciting chuckles around the room. "Without you, my business partners, family, and employees, I would not have been able to get this far. If you follow me to the dining room, we'll all have a lovely dinner that my new chef made special for tonight. If it's not to taste, well, he's new."

Everyone laughed and clapped as he turned around, leading everyone to a massive dining room that had a table to fit all of the guests. 

You held onto Lizzie's arm as you both wandered into the room and sat near the middle of the table near some of the other secretaries that came. As you all sat down, maids rushed in with silver platters, first serving Tommy at the head of the table and slowly spreading plates down the sides to his guests. You thanked her as she placed some sort of chicken meal in front of you. 

"Do you think this is Italian or French?" Shelly, who had indeed decided to wear something scandalous, murmured at you. 

"I'd imagine Italian," you murmured back. 

Arthur stood up from his seat at the opposite end of the table and raised his glass. 

"Before we eat, I wanted to raise a glass to my brother," he sounded over the crowd. "For always taking care of us. Now you have something for yourself as well. To Tommy!"

Everyone raised their glasses and toasted before they started in on the food. 

The dinner itself was nice and the food was delicious. You talked amongst the other people around you, mostly the secretaries and a few odd people that had intermingled with the girls. You watched the room quietly but tried to keep your head bowed. 

"I think the boss is watching you," Shelly hissed at your side as she nudged you. "He looks away in his conversation but looks over to you at times."

"Surely not," you said, taking a drink from your glass and casually looking over to Lizzie and the end of the table. "I'm next to Lizzie. He's just looking at her."

"I know he's not looking at me," she fumed. 

"Perhaps you should act less eager," you monotoned. Shelly scoffed and rolled her eyes. 

The thought would not leave your head once it was said, and you grew increasingly nervous. As Tommy stood and asked everyone to meet in another room for drinks and celebrating, you rose with everyone else but felt your throat constrict. As you exited the dining room you nudged Lizzie.

"I think I'm going to find a room and take a breath for a moment," you smiled weakly as she looked at you with concern. "I'm fine, really. The crowd is just working my nerves. I'll take a breath and be right out to join you for another drink."

"As long as you're fine," she smiled and patted your hand. "Come find me when you need me." 

"Of course," you smiled as you slipped the opposite way of the crowd and opened a random door in the hallway. 

You entered what looked like a study room, but twice the size of most that you had seen before. You eyed the library of books to the left of the desk that sat in front of a massive window that overlooked the black night outside.

You took a deep breath and walked toward the bookshelf, running your fingers around the bindings and reading the names. Your nerves started to calm right before you heard the door handle rattle.

Tommy Shelby opened the door to the study and you both froze as you locked eyes. Shock and confusion shadowed his face until he cleared his throat and softly closed the door behind him. He turned back to you with a blank face. You stood frozen beside his bookshelf next to his desk.

"Would you like a whiskey, (Y/N)?" He asked as he rounded the room. "Or have you had plenty already? In vino veritas and all that."

He reached the decant of whiskey across the room from you and brought out two glasses. 

"I don't normally drink, Mr. Shelby," you said shakily. "But since you are my host, thank you."

"You don't care for alcohol?" He asked, his back to you as he poured.

"It makes people do stupid things, in my opinion," you answered. "Nemo mortalium omnibus horis sapit."

Tommy froze and sat the decanter down, slowly turning to you with his brows gathered between his eyes. 

"What was that?" He said as his head cocked at you. 

You shifted uncomfortably as you leaned back on his desk to steady yourself. 

"It means: 'Of mortal men, none is wise at all times,'" you breathed out as you mirrored his surprised expression. "Did you quote a language without knowing it?"

He licked his lip as he watched you closely, his expression fading back to neutral. He turned to pick up the glasses and squared his body back to you, leaning on the shelf behind him. 

"Latin is old," he said. "I only know a few phrases."

"Perhaps you should know a language before you use it," you said before blushing at your boldness. "Sorry, Mr. Shelby. That was forward."

You watched him fight to keep his expressions under the tranquil stillness of his blank face, but his eyes showed a storm raging in his brain. 

"Forward," he agreed, "but not entirely wrong. 'Lupus non timet canem lantrantem.'"

You laughed at his fumbling of words and quieted when you noticed his eyes harden.

"A wolf might not have to fear a barking dog, Mr. Shelby," you said, gathering the courage you felt rising in your chest as you walked to your boss and lifted the glass of whiskey from his hand. "Auribus teneo lupum. But I seem to be holding a wolf by the ears."

You walked back to your spot and leaned on his desk again. You felt his eyes roam your body as you walked back, and it gave you another shot of courage as you sipped the whiskey.

"I didn't know you were a whore, (Y/N)," he said as he took a drink. "And a learned whore at that. Really should be paying you more as a secretary with that on your resume."

"I'm not a whore."

"Then why are you in my office, eh?" he taunted, running his tongue along the edge of his glass. "I was told I had a whore waiting for me tonight. Want to fuck?"

"I'm not that easy, Mr. Shelby."

"You came tonight with Lizzie, didn't you?" He asked. "You share one occupation but not the other?"

"I've never found a need great enough to do so," you scoffed. "Someone left you misinformed."

He chuckled. 

"So you don't drink excessively, you aren't a whore -- let me guess, you're also a good girl that doesn't gamble?" Tommy eyed you carefully as he lit a cigarette from his breast pocket and inhaled it. "Catholic?"

"I don't bet on fixed races," you said, lowering your eyes as you said it. "I'm not particularly a believer of God. But from my understanding, neither are you."

"All men find religion between a woman's legs," he retorted, a smile spreading across his face as you squirmed. You hummed acknowledgement as you glared at him.

"Morals don't do well in this company," he mused, watching every twitch of movement you made under his gaze. "The only moral I ask for from my employees is loyalty to me."

"I've managed fine," you said. "Not everyone is made for the thick of your businesses."

"Right you are," he hummed. "Only the ambitious."

"Qui totum vult totum perdit," your voice cut through the air. "He who wants everything loses everything."

Tommy squinted at you as his jaw ticked, taking his time to roll the cigarette across his lips. 

"Are you from a rich family, (Y/N)?"

"God no," you barked a laugh. "My father comes home from The Garrison every night. Born and raised in Small Heath, sir."

He visibly relaxed in front of you. His shoulders slouched, but his eyes were still sharp and calculating. 

"Call me Tommy," he shrugged 'sir' off like he was removing dust from a coat. "Work is done. You're my guest. So tell me, how did you come about learning latin then, eh?"

"I've used the library since I was small, sir-- Tommy," you shrugged and watched his eyes light up. 

He covered the crook of a smile by putting his cigarette back to his mouth for another inhale. 

"Small Heath doesn't have a library," he said as he exhaled the smoke, his eyes sharpening as he took a step forward. "Never had the funding."

"I know," you said, biting your lip. "On my free days I walk to Deritend to use their library."

"Quite a walk, isn't it?" He hummed as he took a step closer. 

"Yes, but it makes for a nice day," you shifted in place. "I usually use a little money for lunch and stay til dinner."

"Stay all day in a library?" Tommy smiled and ran a finger over his lip before he let out the smoke. "Shouldn't that make you a teacher instead of a typist for a dirty company?"

You flushed but refused to let your head dip, even though you desperately wanted to cower from the man in front of you. He was weighing you. Tommy Shelby was used to people cowering. You wouldn't give him the pleasure. Not after he already tried demeaning you.

"Teaching requires certificates," you said simply. "I only saved money for one, so typing it was. I like to learn. Keeps my brain busy. Besides," your lip curled at the edge, "I was never fond of helping those that didn't want to better themselves."

"Self taught can go far around here," he said more to himself than you. "Whatever your reason for sneaking into my study, how would you like to be a tutor?"

"To you?" Your eyebrow quirked as you stifled your amusement. 

"My youngest brother, Finn," Tommy said evenly as he shot you a warning look. "He's getting older and I'd like for him to join the business, but reading has never been his sport. If you can get him up to speed, I'll pay you for the time."

"I'm not sure" you drawled, eyes scanning the office as you tried to quickly think of a way out of the deal. 

"The money will be cash, from me," he said, taking another step toward you. He was nearly beside you now. "No need to add it to business expenses or worry about taxes. Just a nice bit of pocket change. You can use it to buy yourself more pretty dresses, eh?"

How eyes dipped to your dress and back to your face. Your eyes widened as your brows dropped and you glared at the man once his words sunk into your bones. You stood up straight and raised your chin.

"Although I appreciate you think this dress is pretty, I have far better ways to spend money, Mr. Shelby," you gritted between your teeth. "I would think the nephew of Polly Gray wouldn't be so flippant with a woman, especially when he's asking her a favor."

"And I would not expect a woman under my employment to backtalk me," he said amused. "What is your goal in life, then, sweetheart? If pretty dresses aren't what you teach yourself Latin for."

You bubbled with anger and fought the words down that wanted to spew from your mouth. 

"You may be my employer, but I will find another if you think I'll allow verbal abuse," you said stiffly. "Perhaps you're so polite and quiet in the office because otherwise you would lose your workforce."

He crossed the remaining distance between you in a stride. You leaned back until you were practically sitting on his desk. His face was inches from yours.

"I didn't get to where I am today by being a gentleman when words don't get my way," he growled as he curled his fingers around your neck.

"I know what you are," you said and felt his hand wrap tighter around your throat until it took effort to raise your voice. 

"And what is that?"

"You don't seem the type in want of a partner," you whispered as you licked your lips and tried to keep eye contact. "You wouldn't force a girl because you don't need to. This is just to scare me. Because you want to. Because you like it."

Tommy chuckled darkly as his eyes looked from your eyes to your lips. 

"Have any latin phrases in your mind now?"

"Dulce periculum," you said. "Danger is sweet."

"That it is, (Y/N)," he said as he caressed your cheek with his other hand. "You can start tutoring Finn tomorrow after your shift. You can use my office if you'd like."

"Yes, Mr. Shelby," you tone as he let go of your neck. 

You never knew you could feel so numb but so electric at the same time. Tommy chuckled, lifting your chin until you met his eyes again. 

"I said call me Tommy, sweetheart."

Part 2

[doberbutts]

Where was my father’s male privilege when he was beaten by his father so savagely that he went deaf, while his father’s girlfriend watched and did nothing?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he was abandoned and locked inside an empty apartment until the 1950s equivalent of CPS was tipped off he was there and took him to save him from starvation, because dear old grandpa and his girlfriend at the time didn’t want a defective child once they figured out they’d permanently fucked him up?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he bounced from foster home to foster home until he was held down and raped by one of his foster brothers, tried to tell his foster mother, and she just called him a faggot and left it at that?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he was finally reunited with his mother and had to scrape together a living by eating stale bread and running errands for what turned out to be local gangs, because she was too poor to feed another mouth?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he watched a black man shot by police bleed out in the street?

Where was my father’s male privilege when teachers who should have caught his deafness instead made him believe he was failing his classes because he was stupid because that’s just how black people are?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he got the tar kicked out of him by his white classmates who felt emboldened by their female teacher’s anti-black racism?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he brought the subject of racism up with the school board after a cross was lit on fire on his desk, and he was dismissed by both male and female staff?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he struggled to find a job after completing college, completing a master’s degree, which he paid for exclusively with scholarships earned from his competitive essay writing, because no one wanted to hire a disabled black man?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he was accused of assault by a white female student who could not keep her story straight and eventually admitted she had made it up because she wanted to put her black principal back in his place?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he was violently cuffed and illegally searched while I sat in the carseat and he was forced to comfort me through the window?

Where was my father’s male privilege when his wife, my mother, was immediately disowned by her entire family for associating herself with him? When she was forced to make a choice between a future with him, or her family? When he sees this echo with his children, and my sister’s children have still never met my brother-in-law’s family despite more than 10 years of marriage?

Where was my father’s male privilege when he came to pick us up from school and my school refused to let him in until the cops verified he was exactly who he said he was? Despite his name matching his ID, the lanyard he wore stating he was a principal at a nearby school, and the name on the school registry as being one of my parents? Despite me being called into the office to peek through the blinds at him and verifying that yes, this was my father?

Where was my father’s male privilege as neighbors who protested living near a black man repeatedly called the police on him as he pulled into the driveway of the house he’s lived in since I was born, let himself in with his own key, with ID to match the address and having known these neighbors by first name? To the point my white-passing mother had to diffuse the situation?

My father is straight and cis. My father is black and disabled. My father is a survivor. My father is a lot of things, and I have a lot of complicated feelings about him, but he is not trash. He has not skated through life as though it’s easy. His life was significantly harder than my mother’s, and her life wasn’t easy either. He has been hurt by men. He has been hurt by women. Some of the instances he has been hurt, my mother was directly sheltered from because she is a woman.

Her father was also an angry drunk, but deliberately did not take his anger out on his daughters, preferring to beat his son bloody instead. Mom has the trauma of watching her father beat the piss out of her brother and having to patch him back up after, but never of having been beaten herself.

Mom found herself in compromising and dangerous positions at times, but was protected from physical harm by her brother and the other men around her who saw it as their duty to protect the girls from that sort of thing. Literally the only good thing about rural purity culture.

Mom has a history of speaking out against racism and discrimination when she sees it, but has never needed to throw a punch in her life, because there was always a man around to protect her from the resulting fight. The men might not have agreed with her views on race but they were connected to her and thus duty/honor bound to protect her if someone tried to jump her because she wouldn’t let them beat up the black kid or told them to stop bothering the asian kid.

Mom never once had to stop and consider that it would be kinder to her partner to break things off.

Mom has never been falsely accused of assault because it’s just assumed that women don’t do that.

Mom has never been accused of trying to kidnap us because it’s believable that a white woman has mixed race kids that are darker than her but inconceivable that a black man has mixed race kids that are lighter than him.

Mom has never had the police called on her for entering her own house in their very white neighborhood.

Mom has only been pulled over once in her life, and the cop was far more interested in what my sisters and I were doing in her car than anything she might have potentially done.

My mother is straight and cis. She is also a white-passing POC and disabled. My mother is a survivor. My mother is a lot of things, and I have a lot of complicated feelings about her, but even she admits that her life was easier than my dad’s.

Cis, straight men suffer. White men suffer. My uncle is also a white-passing POC and a survivor. Do you know how much pent up anger he has? Still has, even though my grandfather changed and got better and apologized and owned up to his wrongs? Even though my grandfather’s been dead for years now? My uncle is sullen and prefers a bottle to take away his pain, pain he’s not been able to process, not been allowed to process, and he’s been that way since he was a child, which is not surprising considering what I’ve been directly told the beatings entailed... and things are always worse than what you’re told when it comes to that.

And all of that anger and resentment and rage and pain builds and builds until one of his sisters pokes him a little too hard about it and then he roars at them and storms off and he knows it’s wrong to take it out on them and he knows it’s not fair and that they only mean well but it hurts and he knows no other outlet besides lashing out because that was the only thing he was ever taught. Men get drunk and then get angry and then get violent. So he stops himself at yelling because he knows he can’t hit in anger, and he leaves and bangs doors behind him and stomps off until he calms down.

And you can say “dude needs therapy” and you know... you’re not wrong. But why would he ever seek it? When he sought help as a child he was told to be a man and suck it up and harden and grow some balls. His mother didn’t intervene to help him. You know, I know, he knows it’s because she was afraid her husband would turn on her. But it still hurts to know your own mother let your own father do that to you. Repeatedly. Over and over and over again. The most help he ever got was some first aid from his sisters when my grandfather decided he was done being angry. His teachers just knew him as an angry, sullen boy who frequently got into fistfights with other angry, sullen boys and chalked new bruises up to that. 

If you grow up like this, betrayed by everyone who is supposed to help you, then why would you ever consider seeking outside help as an adult?

And if your reaction is- see? He is a violent man! He is part of the problem! He could seek help and won’t because he is a stubborn man that wants to make his problems into women’s problems by relying on his sisters!

Then you fail to understand that my uncle is the way he is because of unprocessed, repeated trauma and betrayal that he was actively discouraged from seeking help to free himself of the cycle and start to heal. And his sisters were the only people in his life that did not harm him in that way, so at this point his sisters and his wife are the only people he trusts when triggers get poked and the pot boils over.

He does need therapy. He’s not likely to ever seek it out. And it’s because he was born a boy that this happened to him, and it’s because he was born a boy that no one was willing to help when he needed it most.

These men are not part of the queer community. They still were made vulnerable, and needed help, and did not get any, because of that same logic that drives these feelings about men not needing to be helped or included or assisted today. It’s not progressive just because the logic is coming from the queer community this time instead of conservative christians.

[marvelslut16]

Almost lost him

Pairing: James ‘Rhodey’ Rhodes x Stark!reader 

Synopsis: Tony’s little sister had always had feelings for one James R. Rhodes. She’s kept it a secret for years, but will everything come out after he is injured during the fight against Cap?

word count: 2.4k+

Warnings: Brief cannon violence. Angst. Mentions paralysis. Swearing. Age gap. Also I have a specific age for the character mentioned. 

A/N: This has been sitting in my WIP’s for over a year because I loved it so much and I didn’t want to end it poorly lmao. I know no ones gonna read it since he isn’t a popular character, but oh well. I love this fic and I love Rhodey so that’s all that matters. 

Tony and (Y/N) Stark have saved the world from terrorists once again.

“Can you believe this title?” you laugh showing Rhodey the article on your phone. 

“I was there too,” he says gruffly. 

“You just aren’t special enough,” you tease, sticking your tongue out like you’re five and not thirty-six. 

“Not everyone’s lucky enough to be a Stark,” Tony, your annoying but lovable older brother, enters the compound’s kitchen.

Tony took you under his wing and raised you since your parents died. It was a lot for a twenty-one year old to handle, no one he knew had to take care of an eleven year old. Especially one with newly discovered powers. They weren’t much, but when emotions would get overwhelming you would have white colored beams come from your hands. This later helped Tony come up with the idea for the repulsors on his Iron Man suit, which you helped him build.

As the years passed, you got a better hold on your new found powers. The more you and Tony dug into your parents past, you started to think that your dad had either given you something when you were a baby or your mom was given something while pregnant to make you like this. Your Dad always called you special, but you never thought you were this special.

“Any progress with Steve?” you ask hopefully. You know how much Tony values his friendship with Cap, he just won’t admit it. Especially because he’s hurt. 

“No,” he grunts, but tries to brush it off like he doesn’t care. You and Rhodey give each other unamused looks, clearly not believing the bullshit Tony is trying to feed you.

“I think you should try to reach out to him again, you clearly miss him Tony,” you frown at the dark haired man in front of you.

“I agree with (Y/N/N),” Rhodey speaks up from behind you. He’s closer than you remember, and you shiver as you feel the little licks of his breath on your neck as he speaks. 

“You love birds can shut up now,” Tony rolls his eyes, he leaves the kitchen without anything. 

Heat immediately rushes to your face and you can’t look Rhodey in the eye as you stutter out an apology for Tony’s actions. You quickly leave the kitchen before he can respond, wanting to put distance between your blushing self and the man you had been in love with for years. 

-- 

You had hoped that the conversation in the kitchen would have convinced Tony to reach out and make amends with Steve and half of the Avengers. But things only continued to escalate, where it seemed a battle between friends was unavoidable. So that's how you ended up in Germany, with your newest recruit Spider-Man, facing off against the people you cared most about in this world.

“Rhodey!” you scream as you watch him plummet to the Earth. Time seems to slow to a near standstill and all you can do is watch, too far away from him to be able to help somehow. Your knees buckle and you hit the ground at the same time his body does. There's a scream that’s so loud it rattles the windows of the airport hanger, a scream you weren’t even aware left your own lips. 

Vision tries to approach you, but you let out a sound that's between a sob and a scream as he gets closer. You’re angry, and scared, you can feel a rush of something in your veins. You ball your hands in fists, bringing them to your chest as you curl into yourself. 

The sound of metal crunching together pulls you from your rocking back and forth on your knees. You see a white glow, one that you're extremely familiar with, dissipating from around two shipping containers, now crushed together where vision was hovering. If he had stayed solid, he would have been crushed. You’re shaking even more as you stare down at your hands, you had never been able to move objects before. You could have hurt somebody. You can’t dwell on it too long because Peter runs to your side, telling you that Rhodey had a heartbeat and help was on the way. 

It had felt like hours since Tony, Peter, and you had landed back down in the states. Dr. Cho was working with a spine specialist and a neurosurgeon to figure out the extent of the damage. After a while, they had updated you three, telling you that Rhodey broke his spine and they were taking him into surgery. Tony had left to go fiddle with one of his suits, his coping mechanism. He left the kid with you because he didn’t want you alone. 

“How did you two meet?” Peter breaks the silence.

“Hmm?” you look away from the painting in front of you for the first time since you sat in the waiting room chair, to look at the boy. 

“Mr. Rhodes, how did you two meet?” he clarifies. 

“That’s a long story,” your eyes glaze over as memories start to come flooding back.

“I have time,” Peter gives you a small smile, you can really see what Tony see’s in the kid. The kindness that his Aunt May has taught him is abundantly clear, you know he’s only asking for your benefit.

“He met Tony when they went to MIT together, he somehow found a way to put up with my brother's antics. I didn’t meet him until two years after Tony graduated, so I was eleven,” you let out a little laugh as you realize just how long the older man has been in your life, and in your heart. “He came to my parents funeral for support for Tony, but he became my support system. Everyone seemed to ignore me and go straight for the golden boy, but Tony became too overwhelmed quickly. He introduced me to Rhodey who was the first one, besides Tony of course, to ask me how I was. He ended up spending the entire wake and funeral with me, giving me support and effectively distracting me from my pain.”

You look over at the younger boy, who seems to be staring at you with fascination. He sees the pain on your face when you stop talking, reaching over he grabs your hand loosely. Testing the waters to see if you’ll pull away from affection like Tony has with him. You give him a thankful smile and hold his hand before continuing your story.

“He joined the military not long after that. At first I would send him care packages and letters so he didn’t feel alone when he was deployed. One day when I was writing a letter one of Tony’s flings came into the kitchen and called me a pathetic child because I was crushing on Tony’s friend after I explained what I was doing. He never got that letter, or any after that. We didn’t really talk much after that, if he came to visit Tony I’d be pleasant before locking myself in my room. I guess I was embarrassed over my school girl crush. Years passed, lots of years, before Tony went missing, James was the one that told me what happened. And in those following months he would rarely leave my side, he wanted to make sure I was okay. We were finally both adults, and we gained a real friendship.” 

“That sounds like more than a friendship,” Peter sends you an innocent look. You furrow your eyebrows at him in response, Rhodey definitely doesn’t like you back. “I’m just saying, if Liz was like that with me I would be ecstatic that she liked me back.”

“He sees me as a little sister, Peter,” your heart breaking a little more knowing that you’ll never be able to be with the man you’ve loved for years. Before Peter can refute you, Rhodey’s Neurosurgeon walks into the waiting room- some guy named Dr. Strange. 

“How is he?” you jump out of your seat, Peter quickly following suit, his hand falling from yours at the movement. 

“He’s out of surgery Miss. Stark,” his voice coming out as cocky and full of himself, like he’s overly proud that he did this surgery. “But the recovery will be the difficult part.”

“What happened? What’s still wrong? And when can I see him?” you’re shooting out questions faster than the surgeon can answer.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss that with you Miss. Stark, and you can’t see him until he’s out of the ICU,” the smug look is still on the surgeon's face, making you grow angrier with each word that leaves his mouth. 

“Excuse me?” Peter looks between you and the surgeon with wide curious eyes. 

“You aren’t family,” he states matter-of-factly. “Therefore I can’t tell you and you can’t see him.”

Your eye twitches in anger as your body starts to warm, your powers start to react to the strong emotion. You take a deep calming breath, keeping you from accidentally lashing out at the surgeon. 

“I suggest you rethink that answer,” you say deathly calm, Peter stares at you in awe as you talk back to the man. “And consider who paid for all of the new state-of-the-art Stark technology and equipment you have in this hospital. Things I’m sure that you used in that surgery, that I donated to this hospital through the outreach program that I created. Technology created by both me and my brother.”

“Is there a problem here?” a man’s voice comes from behind you, he sounds irritated that someone’s making a scene. You turn around to face the man, who is wearing a badge that says medical director on it. Perfect. His eyes widen as soon as he recognizes who you are. 

“Actually there is,” you frown. “My colleague, my friend. My favorite person after my brother really, he just had a pretty big surgery, but your surgeon here won’t tell me any details or let me go see him. So yes, we have a huge problem.”

“I’m so sorry Miss. Stark,” he exclaims. “Why don’t we go update you in private.” 

“Did I sound like a bitch?” you frown, whispering to Peter as the two of you follow the MD and the surgeon. He nods a little with a smirk adorning his face. 

“But it was awesome!” you grin at the young boy, remembering the excitement you felt when you saw Tony use his name to get what he wanted for the first time. 

“He’s paralyzed,” the surgeon throws the statement around like it isn’t a big deal as soon as the four of you enter a separate room. “From the waist down. There was nothing we could do.”

Your heart and your lungs seem to stop working at the same time. Peter discreetly uses his super strength to catch you as your legs give out at the surgeon's words. Tears start to pour down your face as you realize all of the things Rhodey will never be able to again. Like never being able to help defend his country again, or chase after you when you steal the last cookie that he wanted. 

You can’t help but feel guilty. If he had never met you and Tony he would be fine. He would still be able to do what he loves. He never would have been put in that situation. He’ll never be able to walk again. He won’t have the opportunity to dance at his wedding or chase his children around if he decided to have either of those. 

“I know it’s a lot Miss. Stark,” the MD’s voice is muffled. “But there was nothing we could have done-”

“When can I see him?” you cut the doctor off. 

“I could take you to him now,” he glares at the surgeon. “He won’t wake for at least a few more hours.”

“Peter, go call Tony and tell him the update,” you look at the young boy, he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before heading back to the waiting room. 

The surgeon and the MD both ramble on about Rhodey’s condition but their voices sound muffled- like you’re underwater. You feel like you're suffocating in all the pain and grief you feel for the love of your life. He’s lying on the bed, oxygen tubing up his nose, at least ten wires connected to him, and the disgusting beep of his heart monitor reminds you how lucky you are that he’s still here with you. 

The two men quickly leave you with Rhodey, but not before the MD promises that he’ll be under constant supervision and he’ll receive the best treatments they offer. Not that you're shocked to hear that with the scene you cause in the waiting room. You grab Rhodey’s hand, careful to avoid yanking the IV in it, pulling his hand up to your mouth to give it a feather light kiss. Tears slip down your cheeks as you stare at his still body, you were so close to losing him today. 

The tears have stopped by the time Tony shows up close to an hour later, he had dropped Peter off at home before coming up to the hospital room. Your older brother looks as distressed as you feel, although he seems to be tryin to hide it more than you are. 

“How is he?” his voice is quieter than you imagined, like he’s afraid any louder will make you crumble. 

“Stable,” your voice is monotonous, and you refuse to tear your eye’s from Rhodey’s face as you respond to Tony. “About as good as he could be I guess.”

“How are you?” he cuts you off as you go to respond that you're fine. “And don’t bullshit me (Y/N/N), you’ve been in love with him since you were eleven. How are you feeling?”

You don’t respond, not with words at least. Instead you do crumble, letting out a quiet sob as you grip Tony’s hand that he was about to place on your shoulder. Tony runs his free hand through your hair and down your back, trying to soothe you like he used to when you would have nightmares after your parents deaths. 

“We almost lost him today Tony, I almost lost him-” another sob racks through your body. “And now he’s paralyzed. He can never walk again, can never defend his Country again. And for what? A disagreement between you and Steve? We could have lost him Tony for something so fucking stupid.”

Before Tony can respond, a muffled voice breaks through the tension in the room. The voice is gravely, but one you love so dearly, it’s Rhodey’s. “(Y/N)?”

Permeant tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny @mrs-malfoy-always​

[vod-ika]

Clones; A Sociologic Rant

I’m pretty sure I could base a whole sociologic thesis off of this show I have so many thoughts this is LONG.

So the fascinating thing about clones is that over and over it’s emphasised in show that they are considered property/cannon fodder/disposable, and at the same time it’s shown that they understand that claim, and still go so far out of their way to control some kind of their own independence.

I occasionally have a hard time separating show and fanfiction (fuck canon it’s my world now) but even in show, the allusions to modern militaries, the decorating of armor, the personalisations such as accents, names, and specific groups (Domino Squad) all point to an entirely unmitigated, completely developed culture inside the Republic. So this is basically a list of things I’ve seen, wondered about, or headcanoned in TCW.

- I would just LOVE to sit down with Filoni or Lucas and a sociologist and just Talk about how, if this army was real, what all would the Kaminoan’s have programmed in their heads (mental stability, coping mechanisms, stamina, self-preservation instinct, etc,) and how would it work in real-time, on and off the battlefield. What kind of programming went on in those eight to ten developmental years that ensured that loyalty was innate, the knowledge of property was omnipresent, and that they believed they weren’t allowed to own anything? What did they do to them to make sure that they would never want to form an uprising???

- “We are only as good as our weakest link” is repeated in team events endlessly, something that can extend to both skill and health. How deeply engrained are checkups, both mental and physical? I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that day in and day out clones, regardless of rank, are able to listen to and watch brothers die and Not have that affect them.

- Were they programmed with “protect the Jedi” in mind, or was it just, “bam. here is your CO, they outrank you so you have to respect/protect them?”,  and then one of them jumped off a building with no armor and their captain had a heart attack? With the whole “Jedi were peacekeepers now they’re generals” thing I feel like the Senate just took two pieces of a puzzle that don’t actually go together but fit anyways and shoved them together and now they’re just kinda staring at each other like “the fuk u doin here”

- HEALTH. IS SO. IMPORTANT. When you know that any injury severe enough or illness overlooked long enough could result in you being swiftly and carelessly replaced by someone who looks Exactly like you, how much more of an emphasis is put on health, bodily wellbeing, and injury prevention? Clones are human, and while they’re very highly trained, strong humans, they’re still human and skin is skin. (Applying real logic to a cartoon) Seeing clones in things like explosions that they potentially survive, but lose a limb or two always made me sad because, to The Republic/The GAR/ Kamino, what good is a crippled clone? To Kaminoans, their life’s purpose is over and you might as well treat them as a lame horse. Fuck Kamino.

- I just realised something. When most modern soldiers deploy, they deploy with the intent to eventually be replaced because they have served their time wherever they are, and are being replaced by a new wave of soldiers. Clones deploy with the intent to die and be replaced until the battle is won.

- When Marines or Infantrymen or Sailors ship out, they always have duffel bags or those gigantic green laundry bag stuffed with clothes and personal items. Now, we know that clones collect personal items, and assumedly have multiple pairs of blacks (or no sweat glands) but I have yet to see any kind of carrying devices other than crates and small backpacks like for small Hutt babies or explosives. Do they have to leave everything behind when they’re op-hopping to their next planet? Are there barracks left behind that hold the ghosts of personal blankets and magazine clippings? Or is there a mountain of green laundry bags just off-camera?

- Naming culture, good god. So, you’re fresh out of boot, and you’ve got your number still. You’re like, “dope. I’m CT-1234. I’m a GAR mortarman. Go time.” Then, some dickhead is like, nah you’re called Sparkles now lets go prank Gogo and Jazz. Naming is WILD, and I’m mostly drawing from fanfiction for this. Either you’re named for some major or heroic or kickass reason like Tracer or Wolffe or Fireball, or you’re named for the most mundane thing like your number ends with 22, so you’re Twos or there are checkers on your armor so now you’re Check. either way it is a personal choice that Specifically defies the number they were assigned at decanting. Even Dogma had one for fucks sake.

- Painting armor. You know that time had to be taken to sit quietly and detail on that eel, or those lines, or that decal. Did it do anything to better the Republic? Did it win any battles or save any precious Jedi? No, but it happened anyways. People like to discuss why we play video games; there’s no societal, familial, or interpersonal benefit, only benefit to the one playing. There’s no societal, familial, or interpersonal benefit to painting armor, only benefit to the one painting. Fuck Kamino. 

- Vocal inflections! The places they’re deployed affecting their speech patterns! I personally have a wild mashup of regional American accents because of the time I’ve spent traipsing, so how does being deployed planet after planet affect clone speech patterns??? Who rolls their r’s and who doesn’t? Are there transfers from other battalions whose accents are indiscernible because of where they were last deployed? Or ones who just have a whole additional vocabulary of local language? I’m three states away and the Louisiana accent blows my mind. Imagine that, but a whole fucking star system away???

- LINGO. Military lingo, planetary lingo (see above), sign language etc. give me different forms of communication outside Basic, used in both the formal and informal settings. (name calling in ASL/BSL during a briefing, talking about shinies in front of their faces in a language they don’t yet understand, talking about Jedi in front of their faces in a language they don’t understand.) Clones are told all that they are is property but damn if that property isn’t going to be able to talk shit about you to your face.

- To add on... Mando’a???? Is it innate? Is it learned? Did Jango Fett personally sit every clone ever down and teach them how to say Cat and Dog and Yes and No? Does every clone know it, or only those who sought it out? Literally it’s the most impersonal personal thing. “You, a thing who was made for combat, who looks exactly like millions of others, know one language of BILLIONS in the galaxy, purely because the man whose hair we based your genetic makeup off of knows it.” like WHAT

- HELMETS. BEING. SO. VERY. PERSONAL. Everything you see, speak, hear, smell is filtered through that bucket on your head. Are HUDs customisable? Is wearing or touching someone else’s bucket a no-no? Who’s watching telenovelas on guard duty?

- Speaking OF helmets: When your waking hours are constantly covered by your bucket, how do bodily “tells” betray what your face can’t? People acclimate. How common is it to be able to read your brother’s emotions like a fucking book based purely on how squared his hip is in parade rest, or which shoulder is higher than the other at attention?

- Or even just armor. Dude, that is literally the only thing between their skin and certain death by laser bolt. You ever talked to an athlete? And how picky they are about what cleats they wear or what goggles they use, or what percentage Gatorade their water is? We’re incorrigible. Imagine that, but the choice made results in how mobile you are, or how much laser to the shoulder you can stand.

- Time is so fucking short and they all must know that. I think I’ve used the line, “the average lifespan of a clone is measured in months, not years,” and boy does that fucking hit. How do you handle life when you were made to be snuffed out by it?

To conclude, I have many thoughts about the minute details of a working army that is comprised of identical people created, raised, and sent off to die for a war they didn’t start. Sounds a little ridiculous when you say it out loud, but between the show itself, fanart, and fucking fanfiction, it’s a little hard not to attribute human nuances to the show that exemplified my childhood. I’m an adult and it is my very highly specifically adult choice to psychoanalyse this show, and you can bet I’ll throw hands with Disney at any time.

“When my creator cares not how I face death, only that it is for them, how do I use the time death allows me? Cruel is my maker to have given me eyes to see and ears to hear the world, but denied me the chance to explore it. I can only hope that those who follow see what I could not, and that eventually a painting of all the world will be born through the eyes of the many.”

[hermits-that-craft]

Powers Au - Nurture

Foolish and Eret walk the streets of the city - L’Manburg, if they remember correctly. The pair of them don’t speak, Foolish’s blue-grey cloak wrapped around his shoulders. Snow falls to the ground, and Foolish shivers slightly. It’s been a few years since either of them had been in a place that has snows, though Eret’s always been able to cope with it better than Foolish.

Eret takes off her red cloak, pulling it around Foolish’s shoulders as they climb a fence. The building is derelict, abandoned, and has big red signs reading “WARNING: ASBESTOS. DO NOT ENTER” but beggars can’t be choosers, and the two orphans can’t afford be be mugged again. They can’t even afford to eat.

Foolish jumps over, following Eret into the decrepit building. He still shivers, but Eret’s cloak is soft, and retains the warmth that Eret put off. They always ran hot, suppressing their powers.

Both of them repress their powers. They know what would happen if someone found out what they can do. They’re only 12, they don’t want blood on their hands.

“Home sweet home.” Eret mumbles as they find a room, covered in old painting tarps. The door shuts and the window is boarded up, so Foolish pushes the rotting chest of drawers in front of the door, a temporary lock to keep them safe.

Foolish turns, looking at Eret as his ears twitch. Eret’s made a bed out of the paint tarps, smiling brightly. Foolish sighs, getting into the middle of the tarps. He takes the twin cloaks off, lying down. The cloaks work well as blankets, and the pair fall asleep.

---

Foolish ducks out of the abandoned house, looking for the richer suburbs. He never should have let Eret out by himself, they can’t afford the buy the bandages needed to mend Eret’s arm. They can’t afford to be separated either, so a hospital is a no-go. Who knows what would happen if the two orphans showed up?

Foolish follows a group of three with quiet steps. One has long, pink hair and a shirt that Foolish knows Eret would love, and he walks close to the road. He has a deep voice that screams arrogance. The one closest to the wall has a guitar over his shoulder and a yellow jumper on - even though it’s the middle of summer. The one in the middle, however, screams “power”. The man holds himself strongly, a pair of crows wings on his back. His suit is well made in a deep, forest green, and he carries a cane with gold on it. The cane alone would get Foolish some bandages for Eret, and enough food to last them a solid two weeks - maybe a month if they sell it instead of pawning it off.

The trio turns down an alleyway, and Foolish scurries after them. He ignores their conversation, reaching his hand out to grab the cane-

“Owch!” Foolish yelps, his arm twisted by the man with pink hair.

“What do you want?” The man growls, pulling Foolish away from the blonde one.

“My friend’s hurt, we need that cane!” Foolish struggles to get out of the mans hold. “He’s going to die! Please.”

“Techno...” The blonde one mumbles, glancing over Foolish. 

“Who cares about some kids friend, the parents should be able to look after it.” The guitar one rebuts. “C’mon Phil, we’ve been here long enough. Tommy’s waiting at home.”

“Let the kid go, Techno.” Blondie - Phil, aparently - orders, and Foolish is shoved to the ground. “Run home kid, you don’t want to get mugged, do you?”

Oh, Foolish realises, his brain finally catching up, these are criminals.

Foolish dashes out of the alley, listening to the men laugh. He can’t - he refuses to be caught, to be mugged and killed in an alley because of a cane.

Foolish never looks over his shoulder, never turns his head to make sure he isn’t followed as he dashes through tight corners and over dingy bins. He quickly finds the asbestos house that he and Eret squat in, jumping the fence with practiced ease. Foolish shoots up the stairs and into their little bedroom, the door slamming open.

“You would not believe the day I’ve had.”

---

Wilbur leans against the door, looking over the pair of children sleeping on a dirty tarp. The little thief that attempted to steal from Phil is curled up around a small kid with a clearly broken arm.

“Are they orphans?” Techno asks, his hand on his sword. 

“Probably.” Wilbur shrugs, “Why’d Phil send us here.”

“Something about the kid’s eyes.” Techno shrugs. “Welp, I’m going to put them out of their misery.”

Techno walks over to the pair, his sword out. They were told to bring the thief alive, but the other is fair game. After all, they can’t have any witnesses, and any movement is going to make that one wake up. Techno’s sword touches the kids throat, and silver fire melts the sword, the kid suddenly awake.

Wilbur makes eye contact with the child, and sees that their eyes are pure white, glowing in the dark night. The thief wakes up as the fire spreads to Techno’s arm, and Wilbur feels paralysed, but if it’s fear or the kids powers he doesn’t know.

Techno’d dead in seconds, but those few seconds is enough for the thief to calm his friend down. The thief then walks over to Techno’s body, and Wilbur watches as golden water pours out of the boy’s eyes. The water - that’s way too much water what the fuck - surrounds Techno, and Wilbur’s twin shoots up, a strangled shout falling from his lips.

“Eret we talks about this.” The thief mumbles, though he keeps his back to his friend. “We promised no more of this.”

“He was trying to kill us.” the kid - Eret - mutters, glaring at Techno. “Is that the pink man who you tried to steal from.”

“I am.” Techno growls.

“Foolish, you promised you weren’t followed!”  Eret says, panic in his voice.

“How do you two feel about a job?” Wilbur asks, putting some of his power into his voice. Gold eyes glaze over, and Eret’s white eyes go glassy. 

----

“Get up.” Foolish spits out blood, holding his chest as Techno looms over him. “How do you expect to survive out there if you can’t win a simple fight.”

“I don’t need to survive ‘out there’.” Foolish snaps back. “I’m twelve. You said that we’d be going home. Why would ‘home’ be dangerous?”

“Because you and Eret are far too powerful.” Philza says, leaning against the door. “And anywhere you will settle will be dangerous. Eret’s undergoing similar training as well.”

“If we’re ‘too powerful’, than we should be able to just fight using our powers.”

“And be forced to kill and revive people?” Philza snaps, and Foolish flinches back, his eyes wide. “You haven’t even shown us what your powers can do. You both are holding out on us. We will get answers. Start again.”

Foolish stands, holding his arms up weakly. He’s not going to win. Not unless he snaps.

---

“Are those children?” Puffy asks Sam as the pair of them watch the Syndicate escape.

“Looks like it.” Sam turns to face his friend, before sighing. “Puffy, they look about Dream’s age, maybe younger.”

“Younger?”

“Puffy, calm down.” Sam puts his hand on her shoulders. “I’m sure that they’re fine.”

“It’s the syndicate. They’re being manipulated.”

“I’m not saying that they aren’t.” Sam agrees. “But you have to understand - we can’t save everyone, we have to wait for them to come to us.”

“I never want to fight children.”

“You used to.”

“Because I was one.” Puffy points out. “And you’re no better! You started younger then me, the only reason we aren’t in prison for vigilantism is because we were kids!”

“If they’re arrested they’ll be forgiven.”

“They won’t, Sam. It took years for Dream to be forgiven and he was nine.” Puffy points out, and Sam sighs.

“I’ll try and find the two so you can help them, okay? Stop being a mother hen.”

---

Foolish and Eret wander the streets, finally being allowed out without a handler. Well, it’s less that they’re allowed out, and more that the three men who could actually stop them have to attend a meeting, so they jumped out of the window and ran.

They aren’t running away, they know what happens to those who run. They’re just going back to their old house. They just want to see what’s happened to it.

If Foolish has to repeat that to Eret a few times, well then, that’s their buisness.

“Hello.” A woman says brightly. She has brown hair with blonde bangs, and a kind smile. “Are you two lost? You look confused.”

“We’re good.” Eret says, stepping in front of Foolish. The woman frowns, giving them a once over.

“Well, I’m Niki.” The woman sticks out her hand. “If you ever need me, I’m just in the bakery. I’ve heard the syndicate is around, I’d hate for you both to be kidnapped. There are rumours...” Niki swallows, giving them a nervous smile. “I lost my younger brother to them, I’d hate for anyone to loose you both.”

Foolish and Eret exchange a glance with eachother, before Eret gives Niki a large smile.

“We’ll keep that in mind.”

---

Foolish screams as he watches Eret get hit again, the sickening crack of the cane breaking Eret’s legs and Eret’s silent sobs rips the teens chest apart. Phil stands over Eret’s limp body, blood on his cane and dress pants. Phil lifts his cane again, and Foolish screams, struggling in Techno’s grip.

“You shouldn’t have run.” Wilbur says as Phil’s cane hits Eret’s already broken legs. “This is your punishment. We told you that this would happen.”

“Not them!” Foolish begs, golden tears falling from his tear ducts. “Please, hurt me, not them.”

“Watching is your punishment.” Wilbur shrugs. “Do you think she needs to get hit again, Dad? I’m thinking another ten hits for Foolish’s outburst.”

“No, please, no more.” Foolish begs, his legs giving out underneath him.

“Twenty.” Phil says, his cane hooking under Foolish’s chin. The Syndicate’s leader lift’s Foolish’s head up to look him in the eyes. “If you loose count, we start again.”

---

“I’m sorry.” Foolish repeats, bandaging Eret’s legs. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“We need to leave.” Eret mumbles. “Niki. We need to escape. You need to escape.”

“Not without you.” Foolish swears. “Never without you.”

“They’re using you for your powers.” Eret wipes the tears from Foolish’s eyes. “You go. Get out. I’ll wait for you.”

Eret takes a small pendant out of their pocket; a little gold, winged angel with emeralds for eyes; and presses it into Foolish’s hands. Eret called it his ‘totem of undying’, the only thing her parents left her. Foolish’s eyes widen, tears forming.

“I can’t-”

“Live for us.” Eret begs him. “I’ll see you soon. Live for us, Foolish. I’ll wait for you. You know that.”

Foolish presses his forehead to Eret’s. A gold streak forms in Eret’s hair, and silver coats Foolish’s forehead. Foolish opens the window, a silent promise on his lips as the life drains from Eret’s body, and Foolish disappears into the night.

----

Puffy sits in Niki’s cafe, her head on the counter. The store is closed, but Puffy sits, coffee in her hands, groaning into the bench.

“One of those nights, huh?” Niki asks quietly. “I thought you had today off.”

“Dream’s at Schlatt’s.” Puffy mumbles. “He told me to ‘have a date night’, like i have someone to go on a date with.”

“Well, I’m always free.” Niki winks at the woman, a bright red blush coats the heroines face.

“Shut up!” Puffy says, throwing her mask at Niki. 

The pair laugh for a moment, the air relaxed, before a crashing noise shatters their carefully manicured peace. The door to the cafe is open, a teenager sprawled on the floor. Niki gasps, quickly jumping the counter to get to him, as Puffy recognises the boy.

Though his forehead is an unnatural, metalic silver, and his eyes fading from gold to emerald green, this is undoubtably one of the children that Puffy had seen with the Syndicate. And now he’s lying on the floor, gold tears and red blood staining his body.

“They killed her,” He gasps, looking at Niki. “Please miss Niki, they killed her.”

“Who did?” Niki asks, and Puffy’s heart lodges itself in her throat.

“The Syndicate.”

---

The next few months passed by in a blur. Eret wasn’t found, and no statement or taunt was released by the Syndicate, so if Eret truely died that night, Foolish wouldn’t know. How many times does Eret have to die for him?

Ponk says that he’s in shock, and that since he had just escaped what is basically a kidnapping, he’d be in limbo for a while. Puffy and Niki both seem to recognise that limbo is actually just ‘a mental hospital because his mind is shattered beyond repair’, but Foolish doesn’t want to believe it.

Sure, he knows it’s true but he doesn’t want to believe it.

So when Callahan, one of Puffy’s friends, comes in carrying Eret on his back, the shock alone is enough to break Foolish from his trance. Eret’s legs are bent at an odd angle, and they’re covered in blood, but they’re alive.

The gold is cut from their hair, and there are bruises on their face, but they’re alive.

Niki follows Callahan in, a dangerous look in her eyes and blood on her shirt. Foolish can tell it’s not Eret’s, so he doesn’t pay it too much mind.

“Niki are you-”

“It’s the Syndicate’s.” She says blankly. “Fix Eret, Ponk. I don’t want to see that kid hurt again, so fix him up.”

And then Eret is gone from Foolish’s gaze, though Callahan and Niki stay. The deer hybrid lies down besides him, and Niki holds his hands as they wait.

Foolish doesn’t know if he likes being aware.

---

“You promise we’ll be allowed to see each other?” Eret asks, his hand clutched in Foolish’s, and Puffy’s heart shatters. These kids, these children have been hurt so much, and are so dependant on each other, that the idea of seperating them hurts.

“Of course.” Puffy promises, and Callahan nods. “We won’t seperate you, but the therapist says that the pair of you being so co-dependant is unhealthy. That why Callahan and I aren’t having a custody battle at the moment.”

What does that therapist know, anyways, Puffy grumbles to herself. These two shouldn’t be seperated.

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Puffy nods, and the pair relax. They hug for a moment, lingering as though that moment will be their last, before Callahan and Eret hop into their car, and drive away from Puffy’s home.

Hopefully Dream will like Foolish.

---

Foolish likes Dream. He’s a fun older brother to have, if he’s completely honest. And his friends are strange, but fun. If Foolish had to be honest, though, he wishes that he didn’t have to cover for his brother so often. There are only so many times Foolish can distract Puffy before she eventually realises that he other teen is up to no good.

Not that Foolish thinks the woman is fooled, but still.

Foolish watches as Dream spits out blood, leaning on Foolish’s bedroom door, and the teen knows this is something he has to tell Puffy.

“Don’t you dare.” Dream warn, but Foolish just grins nervously.

“MUM! DREAM’S HURT!”

“You bitch!” Dream groans, but Foolish doesn’t feel bad, turning back to his computer. Foolish listens as his mother runs into the room, fretting over her eldest son.

Foolish gives Dream a once over, and he spies the relief on his brother’s face as their mother looks after him.

---

“Mum, come on.” Foolish complains, leaning dramatically on Puffy’s side. “You promised we’d leave in an hour”

“That was 15 minutes ago.” Puffy rolls her eyes. “You’re not going to be late to see Eret if we leave in 45 minutes.”

“But what if they’re early, or there’s traffic.” 

“It is the middle of the night on a Wednesday. There’s no traffic.” Puffy laughs. “And we’re picking up Eret, too.”

“C’mon, Fool.” Dream says, pulling on his jacket. “Just cause you want to see your partner-”

“I don’t like what you’re implying there”

“-Doesn’t mean that we have to leave right now.” Dream finishes, pinching Foolish’s cheek.

“Eret and I aren’t dating.”

“Sure you aren’t.”

“So, you and George are?” Foolish quips back. “I mean you like him more than I like Eret.”

“Fuck off.”

“No, Mum needs to take us to the light show!”

“Boys! That’s enough!” Puffy says, laughing. “Okay, we’ll go now.”

---

Foolish watches as the fire licks at the apartment building, Eret and he having decided to go for a walk. They don’t dare step any closer - villains who set buildings on fire are dangerous to be caught by.

“Foolish,” Eret gasps, his hand over his mouth. “that’s Dream.”

And Foolish’s heart shatters, as he watches his brother put a sword through their mother’s stomach.

---

Foolish refuses to leave Puffy’s side, and Eret refuses to leave his, for the entire duration fo Puffy’s healing process. Cold anger washes over Foolish at the mention of his brothers betrayal, the betrayal too close, too personal. As though it had happened before. As though Puffy didn’t pour her heart and soul into making sure that Dream and Foolish were better people than the men who moulded them into weapons.

It takes Eret reminding Foolish that he’d become everything he hated to stop Foolish from hunting down his parricidal brother and killing the traitor himself.

Puffy and Callahan talk, Callahan’s hands moving too quick for Foolish to keep up with, and Puffy’s voice too quiet for him to decipher. He wants to know, Eret wants to know what the parents are talking about, but they have to ‘be patient’ and ‘not eavesdrop’.

The pair have vastly improved on the patience front since they were adopted.

Puffy walks into the room, Sam and Callahan - when did Sam arrive? - walking behind her.

“As I think we all know, you’re both aproximately seventeen, right?” Puffy begins, nervously looking to Sam and Callahan for support. “I want to give you both the opportunity to become heroes. I’ve spoken to our boss, he’s willing to let you both join early if you want to. It’s a free ride through university and you can live in the tower or here and-”

“What Puffy is trying to say, is that you’re both good people, and we want to give you access to the opportunities we had.” Sam says, rolling his eyes.

Eret and Foolish exchange glances, smiles on their faces.

“We’d love to.”