#like. wasn’t the ‘you don’t find it son you make it’ guy named thomas

[iinryer]

i know tommy is a tertiary character or whatever but after rewatching all the begins i desperately want to hear him talk more about that time at the 118 from his perspective. i want to know if he was afraid! i want to know if he wasn’t! how much did he know about himself by then, an inkling? nothing at all? all of it?? i want to know about his guilt and bridging the gap to friendship and if having made amends back then feels any different now that he isn’t hiding anymore…

[boredwrites]

Hi! So I saw your post where you said to just message you but the message thing wasn’t there so I hope it’s okay I’m doing it this way. Anyway. I was wondering if you could write a Kyle Crane x reader fluff? I don’t have any qualifications or desires other than it be fluff and romantic. If not don’t feel pressured I’ve just noticed crane x reader fics are minimal to none lmao

Kyle Crane fluff hcs

Thanks for requesting! Very rare to get Dying Light x reader content. Since there's no plot idea, these will just be general fluff hcs.

Masterlist

First of all, Kyle is a gentleman. I'm talking about opening doors for you, pulling your chair out and pushing it in, etc. Even if you're a runner, desensitized to gore and nasty stuff, he'll keep treating you like royalty (to the best of his abilities).

When he can find the time, Kyle loves slow dancing. When you're both in a safe zone and a nice song comes on the small radio, he always takes you by the hand and pulls you into a dance.

He is very protective over you. He doesn't like it if/when you go outside. Not because he doesn't trust you. It's other people he doesn't trust. And zombies. So he insists he comes with you every time.

If you two come across any of Rais's thugs or any other thieves, Kyle will insist you stay behind him and let him take care of them. He loves being the protector. If any of the men lay a hand on you, he's going feral. He knows you can take care of yourself, he just can't stand the thought of you getting hurt.

This man? This man right here? He's a cuddler. He looooves cuddles. He loves to lay on his back with your head on his chest and body between his legs. He loves running his hand through your hair. He feels so proud of himself if you fall asleep on him. He's so happy you trust him enough.

When he's out, Kyle keeps an eye out for anything you'd like. A certain flower, clothing, cigarettes (if you smoke), anything. He loves your reactions to all his gifts.

If you get bit, this man will not hesitate to give you a dose of Antizin before himself. Don’t argue with him, it’ll make him upset.

Sooooo good with kids. If you have a kid or a kid sibling, he will be their best friend forever. I’m not kidding, this guy loves kids. If you don’t, he totally understands and won’t be upset by that. But good lord he wants one.

If you have plushies, please tell him their names. If they don't have any, he'll give them names. Like genuine names like Ellie, Thomas, Sam. But of course he'll make an exception for some like Sir Buttons, Son of Knight Stuffins the Fourth.

Kyle is a dog person and will bring home a dog if he finds one. Don't worry, the virus only affects people, not animals. He and the dog will both give you puppy dog eyes to convince you to let him keep it. No point in telling him no. All he'll hear is yes.

[athetos]

also maybe 3 games u think are underrated...? im always after smth new to play 👀

These are 3 indie games I’m devastated I don’t see more stuff about them…

Cosmic star heroine is a relatively short chrono trigger spiritual successor that I had an absolute blast with. Combat was fun, there are almost a dozen playable characters by the game’s end and they use new mechanics that weren’t present in chrono trigger like style + hyper attacks, also instead of mp you have limited use of skills and need to defend to regain points, it makes more sense in practice. The game is so charming and there’s hilarious moments that poke fun at scifi tropes and memes and programming jokes. And the world is super cool, I don’t remember too much of the overarching plot but I liked the characters a lot. As far as chrono trigger-esque games go, it’s not as good as sea of stars, but it’s definitely better than I am setsuna or lost sphear. I wish more ppl played it!

Slime-san is a puzzle platformer that starts out simple but gets pretty fucking bonkers. You’re a cute little slime who can dash and jump and cling to walls, and as you complete stages new obstacles are added and it really ramps up the difficulty. Theres a lot of content and free dlc and you can change the color scheme and whatnot, it’s a really cute faux-retro aesthetic. Theres even boss fights which can be so brutal! It’s definitely challenging and I never completed the new game + thing but I should go back to it sometime because it’s a lot of fun. But it’s also hard.

And okay, this one was pretty highly rated when it came out but I never see ppl talking about it even though I know it’s relatively popular at least at the time of release, but I cannot recommend axiom verge enough. It’s the best metroidvania I’ve played that wasn’t a Metroid or Castlevania game (sorry hollow knight). Youre a physicist with amnesia on an alien world trying to get home and you kind of get thrown into this plot by these beings called the Rusalki… I won’t say much more than that but the lore is fucking delicious and is explored more in its not-quite-as-good-but-still-recommended sequel. Everything about the game is awesome, and it was all primarily done by one guy, Thomas Happ, and he uses the profits to help make more games and care for his son’s medical bills. But for the game itself, it’s sooo atmospheric, it leans hard on the Metroid influences, the bosses are sick, the challenge feels just right. There’s a ton of weapons you can find so you have a really robust selection to fit whatever play style you prefer, and to also help solve puzzles. Theres also abilities that help you move to new areas, but instead of your standard double jump type deal it’s things like sending out a drone to get into small spaces or being able to glitch through walls. It’s fucking great. I still think about the plot regularly and what’s next for this universe ooo…. The plot twist is so good ALSO my url is the name of one of the characters, he states that athetos is from a Greek word meaning “one who is rejected, or whose thoughts shouldn’t be entertained”. I can’t verify any of that though as I know zero Greek.

Also these aren’t underrated I’d say but I also really recommend tunic (Zelda inspired action adventure), sea of stars (as mentioned earlier), the messenger (ninja gaiden-esque action platformer that becomes a metroidvania), into the breach (roguelite(like? Only a single character Carries over between runs)), baba is you (the smartest a puzzle game ever), and shovel knight (he’s a knight with a shovel yay)

[makiruz]

I took time to check the appearances of Garrett Sandford, the second Sandman, pre Neil Gaiman, there aren’t many but it’s fascinating because you can see how it all came together.

First off, it’s the Jack Kirby miniseries, which introduces Sandman as the guardian of dreams, his nightmares Brute and Glob, and Jed Walker as a boy with some dream stuff about him. Jed initially lives with his grandfather the lighthouse keeper but he dies in the series and goes to live with his mean aunt and uncle Clarice and Barnaby (after reading the Gaiman series that was a serious gut punch)

However this wasn’t the end for Pre-Gaiman Sandman; Jed mostly disappears, making one panel cameos (although a cancelled comic would’ve revealed he was Kamandi’s parallel universe counterpart) but Sandman comes back a few times thanks to Roy Thomas. First Thomas brings back Sandman’s enemy General Electric in Wonder Woman 295 and 296; and then he introduces Sandman himself in Wonder Woman 300, where he gives Sandman a name and a backstory, as Garret Sandford, a scientist who created a dream machine but got stuck in the Dream Dimension (aka the Dreaming) and now he can only come out for 1 hr when he blows his whistle. This issue by the way introduced Lyta Trevor later Lyta Hall, the daughter of Earth-Two Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor; I’m pretty sure it meant nothing at the time (it was part of the issue 300 celebration), but considering how central Lyta ended up being to the Sandman story can’t help but take notice

The next appearance of Garret Sandford was in Justice League of America Annual #1; this story wasn’t by Roy Thomas, but by Len Wein and Paul Levitz and it’s interesting because the League teams up with Sandman to fight Doctor Destiny, who you might know as John Dee or the guy with Dream’s ruby. I’m sure Dee would’ve tied with Dream regardless, because of his dream powers, but seeing them together years before Neil Gaiman came along is kind of amazing.

Anyway, Sandford does not actually come back after that, but Roy Thomas continues with the story of The Sadman, now in Infinity Inc. Infinity Inc started out as the story of the Next Generation of Earth-Two heroes, with the likes of Jade and Obsidian (children of Golden Age Green Lantern), Power Girl, Wildcat 2, Hourman 2, Doctor Midnight; and of course Lyta Trevor (Fury) and Hector Hall son of Golden Age Hawkman and Hawkgirl (called Silver Scarab). I don’t particularly care for the story of Infinity Inc, but the things you need to know is that they started pre-Crisis, they ended post-Crisis (so a lot of their backstory had to change) and Hector died and Lyta was pregnant with his child; in issues 49 to 51 The Sandman comes back spying on Lyta at night and Nuklon (who was in love with Lyta) finds out, and gets Lyta to help him catch him and discover that *gasp* Sandman is actually Hector! Hector reveals that the original Sandman, Garret Sandford went crazy and died (doesn’t say he committed suicide, but the implication is there) and after he (Hector) died he fell into the dream stream and ended in the Dream Dimension and became the new Sandman, but he can only be on Earth for 1 hour a day; he doesn’t want to prevent Lyta to live his life, but they’re still in love so they get married at the beginning of issue 51 and go to the Dream Dimension to have “A Happy Beginning” (so much for that). So here’s the important part about this story, it was published in early 1988, cover dates April to June 1988; issue one of Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman was published in December 1988 (cover date January 1989), The Doll’s House, the storyline that dealt with the superhero Sandman and Jed Walker started publication in mid 1989; Neil Gaiman was working with current DC continuity, he was building off the work of current DC author Roy Thomas; he wasn’t digging out some forgotten character, he was working with recent stories and it’s amazing.

You can tell how all the pieces of the story Gaiman told came together and it was current; it’s freaking brilliant and I love it

[animefankotaro]

Trans Bruce Wayne

Bruce Wayne was in his house training. This includes running around outside, multiple push ups, pull ups, and sit ups, lifting weights, using his weapons on targets, and much more. He had to stay in shape in order to be Batman. His super hero after ego was something that put fear into everyone, even his allies. Bruce was doing some sit ups when Alfred arrived.

"I brought you you're lunch, sir. I expect you to eat it then rinse yourself off and get some rest. You've been working to hard."

"Right. Let's just get this over with." Bruce went over to the table to eat. Bruce would be lying if he said he didn't like Alfred's meals. Alfred was also the only person in the world who told Batman what do do and got away with it. Bruce didn't like to take showers too much. It meant seeing himself naked and being reminded of his feminine body he once had. Back when he was Brianna.

Later on Bruce was on the Batcompulter looking up important stuff.

"It's amusing, Master Bruce." Alfred said. "Most men your age spend their time watching the game or reading a Playboy. Here you are looking up ways to scare clowns." Alfred chuckled a bit.

"I always need to be one step ahead. Especially against the Joker."

"He's the only one who really worries you out of all the weirdos you face."

"In a way. To the the truth I think he would be the only one who would still take me seriously if he found out my secret."

"Are you worried about that?"

"If anyone were to find out Batman used to be a woman he would be a laughing stock. No longer would he strike fear into his enemies. I need to make sure that never happens." Bruce crossed his arms and looked down. "But the weird part is the Joker is so crazy he wouldn't care. This is all a game to him. As long as I chase him around town like cops and robbers he's happy." Alfred nodded.

"I seem to recall you were scared to tell your parents you were really their son."

"I was terrified. Being big names the fact that their daughter wanted to be their son would have made the news. I thought it would have been embarrassing for them and they wouldn't have it. Instead they took me into their arms as Bruce." Bruce smiled a little thinking of one of the only happy memories he had as a child.

"Your parents did everything they could to make sure you were just Bruce."

"Yes. They helped change my name, my sex legally, and everyone was to refer to me as a boy or the son of Thomas and Martha Wayne."

"Barbara seemed to take it over well. As did Dick and Tim."

"They all did. I trust them so I had no problem telling them. Though Barbara might have already known being the daughter of James."

"Gordon was the one who saved you when you were attacked from the gang when you were a child wasn't he, sir?" Bruce nodded.

"A group of guys knew my secret and thought I was a creep. They tried to beat me up but James showed up and scared them away. I have a lot to thank him for."

"He also helped clear the way for your top surgery when you were 16."

"Yep. The fact that I had breast was killing me. I was too young to have it done myself as I wasn't legal age yet. You didn't have quite the power to set things. James pulled some strings and was able to get me the surgery 2 years early."

"After that you begun your training to get your preferred body."

"It was a long hard process. Sometimes I almost gave up. But I started taking T pills and it helped a little more. When I became Batman I knew I had to train twice as hard."

"Have you told any of the others? Clark? Diana? Wally?"

"Yes. It did come as a shock to them. Especially Diana."

"Why is that?" Alfred asked raising an eyebrow.

"Being from an Amazon tribe of only women I don't think she would place why I would want to be a man. She was thought that women are superior and can't wrap her mind around why it bugged me."

"It never caused problems when you two dated?" Bruce folded his arms.

"No. By then she saw me as Bruce. I think she liked it more that way anyway."

"Clark must have saw though you the moment he meet you."

"With his x-ray vision I'm sure he found out rather quickly." Bruce slid in his chair a little knowing Clark had probably seen things.

"So it seems that you've succeeded in becoming the son you always dreamed of. Everyone you know sees you as Bruce and you think even the Joker would still see you as Bruce."

"They are all good. I have you must to thank for. Alfred. When mom and dad died you took me in as your son. You made sure that the whole world saw me as Bruce. I won't know what I would do without you."

"Well your house would be a mess, you would have to take all your calls yourself, and you would be having frozen pizzas, cereal, and ramen for dinner every night." Bruce smiled at that. "But you would still be Bruce and Batman. That is what matters most."

Bruce looked at the computer and back to Alfred.

"You know, Alfred. You're right. I do work too hard. How about you and I go to a baseball game. As father and son." Alfred smiled.

"It would be my pleasure, Master Bruce."

[sunder-soul]

𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖉𝖔𝖛𝖊

❶·❷·❸·❹·❺·❻

Chapter One: There's just something about those Riddle murders that doesn't quite make sense... Wordcount: 2.3k Content warning: language, allusions to bigotry.

Permanent Taglist: @jujugentle @weirdowithnobeardo @pearlstiare @fromthehellmouth @whoevenfrickenknows @moatsnow @voidmalfoy @lucys-brain @sunles @arana-alpha @tallyovie @expectoscamander @nothinghcppens @itsjustfics @mikariell95 @suicide-sweetheart636 @toasterking

Name: MORFIN GORMLAITH GAUNT

Age: 46

Wand: fir, 10 ¾ inches, dragon heartstring

Residence: Gaunt Estate, Little Hangleton, Yorkshire

Marital status: -

Offense charge: three counts of murder in the primary degree

Date of charged offense: 1st July, 1943

Offense Detail: prisoner entered the residence of the Riddle family (Muggle, IM-00) and inflicting the Killing Curse (UC-001-1717) upon the three members of the Riddle family present; Thomas Riddle (63), Mary Riddle (60), and their son Tom Riddle (37). Use of the Killing Curse has been confirmed by Prior Incantato (see report DMLE-619-1951-BLE, SA: Robert Odgen).

Date of Testimony: 3rd July, 1943

Prisoner plea: guilty

Sentence: Azkaban, 360 years

Date of Sentence: 3rd July, 1943

You frown.

It’s very late, the candle your desk is barely a stub, the little flame hovering nervously on the surface of a broad pool of wax, and you’ve been copying over these stupid reports to the new, tamper-proof parchment forms for seven hours now – but something is extremely odd about these dates.

“McCollin,” you say slowly. “Did you work this case?”

“Hmm?” McCollin doesn’t look up at the desk beside you, head resting heavily on one hand and his spine curled into a perfect and truly concerning C-shape over his own stack of files. He looks close to passing out right there and then, salt-and-pepper hair a little greasy, scruffy five o’clock shadow, eyes bleary and shadowed.

“Gaunt,” you read, “1943. You were working with Odgen then, right?”

He snorts. “Yeah, I remember that nutter.”

“What happened?”

“Guy was from one of those ancient pure-blooded clans, you know, one of the real fanatical ones, inbreeding and liquidated assets and all,” McCollin yawns, dragging his hand down his face and smearing ink across his whiskered cheek. “Hated Muggles like nobody’s business."

“Yeah he killed three Muggles, right?” you peer at the report.

McCollin nods at the form he's copying. “Went off the deep end one day. Walked right up to their house and murdered ‘em. When they brought him in he was ranting and raving about how they’d had it coming for years.”

“He was arrested, charged, and sentenced within three days,” you say slowly.

He finally looks up at you. “So?”

“That’s the fasted processing I’ve ever seen.”

“The guy admitted to it, kiddo,” McCollin says in deadpan, “he had snakes nailed to his door and his family tree was basically a Christmas wreath.”

“Yeah, but… what made he snap?”

He laughs again, shaking his head despondently as he returns to his form. “You got a lot to learn.”

His tone wants to be fond but it just strikes you as patronising, especially considering the amount of times people have said that exact same stupid line to you. It’s like half the bloody department think being Muggle-born makes you incapable of understanding the subtle and unique intricacies of wizarding culture – as if bigotry and supremacists and assholes are exclusive to the magical world. “What?” you say a little too defensively.

“Families like that… guys like that… they’re not right in the head. Hate Muggles just to hate ‘em, reckon they’re all that’s wrong with the world. Honestly it’s a miracle he didn’t do it sooner.”

You look back down at the report, suspicions anything but assuaged. “Yeah,” you say quietly, “it is.”

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

“Did you ever watch Gaunt’s testimony?”

“You’re still going on about that?” McCollin drawls, heaving the towering box of finished files up a bit as he heads for the lifts.

“I looked him up in Records and the memory’s only available with supervisor permission,” you push, following him quickly. “If you signed me off then I could get Owler to –”

He slams the button and stares at the little golden arrow above the elevator grate slowly sliding towards the basement floor. “And why in Merlin’s name do you want to watch the Gaunt trial?”

You slip your hands into the pockets of your purple Ministry robes. “I’m interested.”

“Interested,” he echoes, shooting you a look. “Is that so?”

“He was processed in three days, McCollin. If it was that obvious he was guilty, it must have been one hell of a trial.”

“It was,” he scoffs as the lift dings and the grate grinds to a noisy open. “Fine, but only if you finish Johan’s quota by five.”

The triumph is impossible to keep off your face and McCollin rolls his eyes at your immediate glee. “I’m on it,” you grin, spinning around and racing back to your desk to get started.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

“Merlin’s beard,” McCollin mutters, shaking his head at the stack of completed transcripts. “I gotta hold stuff over your head more often.”

“Just sign the slip, McCollin,” you smirk.

He sighs and grabs the quill from your hand, and you hold your breath as he scribbles his initials on the slip. “You’re obsessed,” he drawls.

You seize the slip and round on the lift, heart racing with excitement. “I’m interested.”

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

The trial is absolutely insane.

Morfin Gaunt looks like a Witch Weekly cartoon caricature of a fanatical blood-purist and he rambles in a manic-edged, ceaseless torrent about how much he enjoyed murdering the Riddles as the Wizengamot mutters and blithers disapprovingly for about three hours – but something catches your attention right near the end. Something you can’t help but ask Owler about the second the memory ends and you’re thrown back into the Records Room.

“Who’s Merope?”

Owler’s sallow face looks about as thrilled at your question as he was at your request for the memory in the first place. “Merope Gaunt,” he says in a flat, nasally voice, waving his wand at the Pensieve and sending the memory swirling back into its phial.

“Merope Gaunt?”

Owler’s thin, anaemic lips downturn even more. “His sister.”

You stare at him. It is not at all what you’d expected. “And why did he call his sister a mud-soused, scumsucking slut?”

“Ask your supervisor.”

“He seemed to be saying he killed those people because of Merope, why on earth would his sister be why he –”

“I keep the records, I don’t conduct the investigations,” Owler interrupts with not inconsiderable disdain. “Now if you could please –”

“Did they bring Merope in for testimony?”

Owler gives your continuing presence a very dirty look. “No.”

“Why not?”

He pushes the door to the Records room open and stares at you.

You try to hold your ground but Owler is unrelenting, and you're forced to step past him with a curt sigh. “Right, well, good afternoon, Owler, thanks for –”

The door slams shut behind you.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

“Get what you wanted?” McCollin smirks as you collapse stony-faced into your chair.

“I forgot how impressively unpleasant it is to talk to Owler,” you mutter, resting your head in your hands. “Did you know about Merope?”

“Merope?”

“Yeah, Morfin’s sister.”

“Didn’t know he had one,” McCollin says disinterestedly.

“He was saying some stuff that made it sound like she’s why he killed those Muggles.”

“Uh huh.”

You lift your head, giving him an incredulous look. “He said she’s why he murdered three people, McCollin. How does that not interest you?”

McCollin throws down his quill and sighs sharply. “Look kiddo, the guy’s rotting in Azkaban, he admitted to the murders, they found the curses in his wand, and he had a memory of the whole thing. What exactly are you hoping to achieve here?”

You can barely believe it. “Why isn’t Merope Gaunt mentioned in any of his trial documents?” you say sharply.

“Either she wasn't relevant to the proceedings, or she's dead, or he made her up,” McCollin shrugs, “like I said, the guy went off the deep end.”

“But why doesn’t it say –”

“Just drop it,” he sighs impatiently, “you have work to do, and I won’t have you wasting clocked time on some case from nearly a decade ago.”

“Come on, McCollin, can’t you admit that it’s weird that –”

“I said drop it,” he says sharply, “don’t make me be the big mean supervisor here, you know I hate it.”

You glare at him. “Fine,” you say through gritted teeth.

It’s almost too easy to pull Morfin’s old file from where it’s still sitting in the refuse pile and subtly charm a copy of it that evening.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

Merope Gaunt, as far as you can tell, fucking vanished off the face of the earth in 1925.

There’s nothing, no addresses, no marriage or death notice, no registered Floo connections, no DRC calls for gnomes or doxies or even the odd kappa, not a single trace of her after Morfin and their father Marvolo had a stint in Azkaban for assaulting Bob Odgen back in the 20s.

It seems like the second they were locked up, she scarpered.

You sit back in the Archives Hall and let out a long breath, flipping the folder shut dejectedly. Morfin’s file is a thick wad of anti-Muggle hate crimes rivalled only by his father’s, and closer inspection had revealed that the Gaunt family estate sat a cool twenty minutes' walk from Riddle House where the murders had occurred. If Morfin had lived so close to some of the Muggles he hated so much, he’d been sitting on a clear motive for murder for years.

So why suddenly snap?

What had pushed him over the edge?

Why did he cite Merope in his deranged testimony?

Why talk about her in that way?

Where the hell did she go?

There are endless questions and zero answers. Plus, you kind of get the feeling that if McCollin saw you hunched in the Archives after-hours trying to find those answers, you’d get your pay docked.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

That night, you sit bolt upright in bed with a surge of electric realisation.

Mud-soused… scumsucker…

You’ve heard that language before. You’ve processed about four hundred case files of harassment with that language.

“Idiot,” you breathe, smacking your forehead and falling back onto your pillows with a thump. “Idiot, of course…”

Because that’s the way Pure-blood extremists talk about witches and wizards who've fallen in love with Muggles.

Suddenly, you have a pretty good idea where Merope might have disappeared to the moment her blood-obsessed brother and father were out of the picture, and a pretty good idea of where you might be able to look to find her. Because you’ve been looking in the wrong place.

You’ve been looking for her in the wizarding world.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

“I have the craziest news for you,” you grin, slamming a silver Sickle on the counter and taking your seat at the bar.

“You say that twice a month,” Mori grumbles, setting your drink down and sliding the coin into his huge, calloused hand.

“It’s true twice a month.”

“It’s true half as much as you think.”

“I found her.”

Mori’s dark brows raise. It makes his gruff face look slightly less intimidating. “The lady from that old case you're into?”

“Yeah,” you beam, seizing your drink and leaning forward. “Started going through marriage certificates, and –”

“You’re telling me that your big-shot Ministry intern arse has been working this thing for a month and you didn’t even check marriage certificates?”

“Not Muggle ones,” you smirk.

Mori takes a glass off the bar and starts to clean it as he peers at you. “Go on.”

“She married the same guy her brother murdered, Mori,” you breathe, glancing around to make sure none of the shady denizens of Moribund’s are listening – it’s not like the bar's regular patrons are so welcoming to your big-shot Ministry intern arse on the best of days considering you’re half-way down Knockturn Alley in the dead of night. “They fucking ran away together!”

“Well, that explains a lot,” Mori mutters.

“Exactly!”

“What are you going to do about it?”

You shrug, taking a sip of your drink and feeling supremely pleased with yourself.

“What, you spent that much time investigating this thing for no reason?”

“Nah,” you say quietly, lips still in a smile. “I have a feeling there’s more to it than this. I still have to find out what happened to her after they got married and her brother murdered his new in-laws.”

“And what’s this guy’s name again?”

You give him a dry look. “You know I can’t tell you names, Mori, I’m pushing the bounds of my contract telling you this much already.”

He shrugs his massive shoulders, casting a wary look around the dark bar. “If you’re looking for people who might know a thing or two about murderers and Muggle-haters, you’ve come to the right place.”

“I’m here to talk to you, Mori, not the murderers and Muggle-haters.”

“You’re here to drink cheap and rant to someone who won’t rat you out to your boss,” he growls.

You give him another grin. “Cheers to that.”

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

You find Merope’s name in a record tome of an old church parish almost by accident. There’s barely any information there, just one name on a huge list of those buried in the pauper’s graveyard less than ten blocks from where you’re sat amongst the looming shelves of the Muggle public archives at that exact moment.

But there is something.

It says she died in a place called 'Wool’s Orphanage' on New Year’s Eve in 1926. It’s not hard to guess why she might have been there, and how she probably died.

Merope Gaunt had a child.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

❶·❷·❸·❹·❺·❻

Reply/message me to get added to the tag list! 💖

[stxleslyds]

Has Jason met the Flashpoint Universe's Thomas Wayne? Like, actually spoken with him or voiced an opinion on the guy? If not, how do you envision their interactions?

Hello friend! I really like your questions; they make me read new stuff!

To answer your first question, nope, Jason Todd from main continuity hasn’t met Thomas Wayne from flashpoint! The only issue in which they “appear together” is Batman (2016) #71, but Jason only appears there when Barbara calls him so he can team up with the “Batfamily” to help Bruce. And that’s where this iconic Jason panel comes from!

Now, as a little heads up, I haven’t read flashpoint but I have done my research on Thomas Wayne’s story in Flashpoint. What I have read, though, is Batman vol.3 issues, 21, 22, 50, 58, 60, 69, 71-77, 80-85. I read that to answer this question Batman is not necessarily a book that I follow, from those I think I had previously read four or five issues.

("City of Bane" was so boring, confusing and stretched out too long. It would have been an easier read if Tom King stopped writing everything in pauses, I really don’t know how to explain it, but between that and the “Bat” “Cat” stuff I was ready to cry).

But because I read all that and did my research on Thomas Wayne, I believe I can give a pretty solid answer to your other question, “If not, how do you envision their interactions?”

I think Jason’s first impression of Flashpoint Thomas Wayne would have been, “I now understand why Bruce is so scared of killing the Joker, he just won’t be capable to handle himself and go on a killing spree. Suppose being not strong-willed runs in their blood”

Then as time passes by and he gets a glimpse at Thomas’ actions in main continuity I think that Jason would have reached the conclusion that Thomas was pathetic, crazy and dangerous. I can really see Jason writing down Thomas’ name in his own “to kill” list.

I really don’t think they could have gotten along from the very start. Yes, they both kill criminals but Thomas is deranged compared to Jason as he is now. (I will be talking about Jason as if he were a solid mix between UtRH and RHatO Jason).

Jason kills criminals such as drug dealers that sell drugs to children, rapists, people who work for the wrong kind of people and monsters, or things like the Untitled. Thomas on the other hand kills every kind of criminal, and sometimes he thinks that killing innocents and children is a means to an end.

In the Batman run, Thomas wasn’t happy about Bane killing Alfred but those were the rules, basically, he stepped aside from protecting Alfred because Bane had set a rule that said that if any of the Bat-People stepped foot in Gotham Alfred would be killed, and Damian went to Gotham so Thomas was like “oh well, time for Alfred to die, I guess”. After Alfred was killed by Bane, Thomas took Damian hostage and decided to use him as leverage now that Alfred was dead.

Thomas was nasty. But, I kinda started explaining Thomas’ thinking process from a weird place, so let me give you a little context if you haven’t read this arc.

Thomas Wayne is the Batman from Flashpoint. Flashpoint isn’t another universe, it is like a re-written main continuity universe so that Thomas is main continuity Bruce’s real father. How are they both in main continuity? Flash and Reverse Flash nonsense, I am not a Flash person so that’s the best way I can explain it. Reverse Flash and Flash did something weird and Thomas ended up in main continuity after they deleted the Flashpoint “timeline”.

Thomas Wayne asked Bruce while they were both in Flashpoint that he stopped being Batman, he told Bruce to find happiness and leave Batman behind because it would only bring him pain and suffering. (Batman vol.3 #22)

When Thomas Wayne woke up in main continuity, he got to see Bruce proposing to Selina, and going on a double date with Selina, Lois and Clark. But he also got to see that Bruce and Selina didn’t get married. That was what made Thomas Wayne go to Bane so he could help him break Bruce’s mind so Bruce finally let Batman go.

Yeah, Thomas really thought that the best way he could make his son give up the vigilante life was by helping Bane take over Gotham and breaking Bruce’s mental stability (or whatever he has left of it).

By helping Bane take over Gotham, Thomas was actually working with people like Joker, Riddler, Scarecrow and other villains. So, from that alone Jason would have been like “Who the hell is this guy and how can I kill him before Gotham falls apart?”.

I have to be honest though, I am really happy that Tom King didn’t include Jason in this stupid story, it just wouldn’t have made sense because even though Gotham was falling apart and villains were roaming free and terrorizing Gotham’s people, King actually made the “Batfamily” fight only for Alfred (who was already dead) and then they all got beat by Thomas. Tom King never made anyone care for Gotham itself, and no, I am not counting Selina and Bruce because those two were fucking and having drinks while Gotham fell apart, they only showed up at the very last second.

But your question wasn’t about my thoughts on this dumb story, it was about Jason and Thomas interacting. Well, I think that if Tom King had invited Jason to this party, he would have shot Thomas without hesitation and then would have told the “Batfamily” to get their shit together because Gotham’s people were suffering while everyone was looking away.

Thomas was working with Bane and letting Gotham’s rouges do whatever they wanted, Jason would have killed Thomas instantly! There would have been no talking, no “What are your thoughts on the Joker being alive after he killed me that one time? Do you think Bruce was right?”, Jason would have wasted no time on that because he would have seen his city fall apart at the hands of Thomas and Bane AND Bruce’s negligence. Oh, yeah, I blame Bruce too, I can’t really help myself, I hate that guy.

So, that’s what I think Jason would have done if he got to interact with Flashpoint Thomas Wayne.

Now, there was one thing in Thomas’ whole speech and idea that I kinda thought UtRH Jason (mostly) would have agreed on.

“All of you. He made you. Children fighting for him. An addict spreading his poison. Trying to make himself seem normal”.

Alright, Thomas, I hear you, you are one crazy mf but I see your point! That’s what I think and what I think Jason would have thought if he heard him say that but he would have killed Thomas anyways. Thomas really fits among the type of people that both UtRH and RHatO Jason would kill, so even if he kinda agreed with that statement Thomas would have been done for, no hesitation.

I wish I could have come up with something else but really, I don’t see Jason ever agreeing with Thomas’ ideals as a whole. While Thomas’ initial motivation to kill was to avenge his son then he went on a path of pure destruction, killing just to kill, and that has never been Jason (Battle for the Cowl and Batman and Robin vol.2, I don’t know them), in UtRH he expressed his desire for Bruce to kill Joker but he also said that he didn’t want Bruce to go on a killing spree, that wasn’t going to solve anything! No matter what Zdarsky tried to tell us with his two interpretations of Bruce and Jason’s perfect worlds, Jason has never wanted Bruce to kill every one of his rouges so then they can become a happy family.

That’s just an obscene lie. Jason knows better than everyone else that Gotham is corrupt beyond salvation and that killing Batman’s rogue gallery won’t solve Gotham’s problems. If it were that easy Jason would have done that a long time ago.

Anyway, I hope this isn’t a lame answer, I just don’t think that Jason would want to see or hear more about Thomas in general.

Thank you for the ask! I hope you had a great day!

[kieraelieson]

Three Times Patton Got Lost in a Market

Thomas was walking through the old store with his mom, careful to hold her hand while they shopped.

“Oh, look! There’s a wind chime! It’s just like the nice neighbor lady!” Patton said.

Thomas stopped to look, and his mom stopped too, looking at something else across the aisle.

“It isn’t exactly the same,” Logan said. “Hers has a hummingbird on top, but this one has a butterfly.”

“And anyway, this one has prettier colors when the light hits it,” Roman added.

“Oooh, the red really is pretty, Roman!” Patton said excitedly. “And the purple, and the yellow!”

“It’s exactly the colors of the most beautiful rainbow reflecting back from a pot of gold,” Roman said dreamily.

“Mom!” Virgil suddenly shrieked, alerting them all to the fact that Thomas’s mom was no longer beside them.

Instantly, there was a pandemonium of overlapping voices, all very confusing, and Virgil at the front screaming.

“Quiet!” Patton yelled, as loud as he could, and then felt a little like crying. He didn’t like yelling, but this was important!

“But we have to find Mom!”

“We should run after her!”

“If we yell someone will hear!”

“Listen to me!” Patton yelled again. “Remember what Mom said? If we get lost in the store we stay put, and if we see an employee then we ask them to call mom for us.”

Virgil bit down hard on his sleeves, and Patton took his silence for agreement.

“That is indeed what Thomas was told,” Logan admitted.

“I still think we should go find her!” Roman protested, though less pointedly than before.

Thomas plopped down on the floor.

“Ok. That settles it, we’re waiting for mom,” Patton said. “Let’s look for more pretty things while she comes to get us. Roman, what else can you see around us that looks like a rainbow?”

Roman grumpily crossed his arms. “There’s a rainbow on the lawn decoration.”

“Very good!” Patton said. “Logan, can you see anything that’s science-accurate?”

“Science-accurate is a very vague phrase, but I suppose you could be intending to direct me to the collection of decorative barometers.”

“Oooh~ yes, the water swan neck thingies~” Roman said.

Logan launched into an explanation of barometers, most of which Patton didn’t understand.

He checked on Virgil, who was scanning the aisle they were in over and over again, and chewing holes in his poor sleeves.

“She’ll be here in just a minute, don’t worry,” Patton said gently.

Virgil nodded slightly, but didn’t stop checking the ends of the aisle and staring down each person that passed.

And then his eyes went wide. Patton turned to look.

“Mom!”

“Thomas, I thought I lost you for a minute there! Stay close, ok?”

Thomas took his mother’s hand and nodded.

Patton let out a sigh of relief. They weren’t lost anymore.

••^*^••

Thomas was a bit worried about high school, and especially the test coming up, and Logan and Virgil were mostly helping him with that. But now he had to go to the store for groceries. And Roman was exhausted after being all excited over the play and was sound asleep.

So Patton was helping shop!

He smiled confidently, prompting Thomas to look at the list again. He needed to get the ingredients for tacos, and some bread, milk, eggs, and ice cream. Yum!

Now what all went into tacos?

There was meat, and sour cream, and little shredded lettuce, and cheese, and taco shells, or was he supposed to get soft tortillas?

Patton considered, wandering into the store towards the food. Maybe both? Yeah. Both. Oh! And there was the bread! That would probably have tortillas near it!

Patton hummed happily, finding the bread that looked the same as what mom had been getting, noting the brand name. Nature’s Own. Huh.

Now tortillas… what kind did they normally get?

He finally just picked the one that had blue on the label.

Virgil popped up, startling him for a moment, especially with his intense frown. “People are staring. We’re taking too long near the bread, and your humming is gonna make people think Thomas is weird.”

“Oh, it’s alright!” Patton said cheerfully, glad he hadn’t dropped the tortillas. “I didn’t get in anyone’s way, and they haven’t said anything yet about thinking Thomas is weird.”

“Yeah…” Virgil glared at the people milling around and shopping. “Well they could. Just… keep it quiet.”

“Will do!” Patton grinned, and Virgil sunk back out.

Next he had to find… well, next he had to find the next thing. Should he keep walking and hope to see them, or should he seek each one out? He’d stumbled upon the bread, surely he would stumble across the rest.

Patton hummed happily and kept walking, skipping along beside the cart as Thomas pushed it. Thomas must really be out of it, poor guy. But Patton could help him cheer up!

Pretty soon, they had almost everything! Except for taco seasoning. And Patton wasn’t sure if they were supposed to get the kind that was in packets, or the actual spices. And he also wasn’t sure whether he should look in the spices area or the Mexican food area. Or where those areas were.

Surely they’d passed those special Mexican drinks a while back. But where?

Patton encouraged Thomas to turn around and go back, but after several aisles he still couldn’t find anything he was looking for. He turned back around, and then again.

“Perhaps… I need to go from one end all the way to the other…”

Virgil popped up again, rather grumpy looking, but not as much as earlier. “That’s gonna take too long. We’re already late, and Mom is gonna need Thomas home son so she can make dinner.”

Patton sighed. “Ok. Logan, help please, I’m lost.”

Logan popped up, looked around, and then pointed. “That aisle.”

“But how do you know?” Patton asked.

“There’s a sign above it.”

Patton looked up. “Oh. Yeah.” He chuckled. “I should’ve thought to look for signs. Thanks, Logan!”

“You’re welcome. However I do suggest we attempt to make our trip home expedient. I’ll need Virgil’s full attention and assistance to prepare adequately for the test.”

“Will do!” Patton said, already spurring Thomas towards the aisle.

••^*^••

“I have created the ultimate maze!” Roman said excitedly. “It is called Infinite IKEA!”

Patton clapped excitedly, and even Logan gave a single clap.

“I really don’t see the point—“

“The point is a race, Emo Nightmare, and the winner gets to pick which old reruns Thomas watches tonight.”

Virgil tried to pretend he was still disinterested, but Patton could tell he was excited. “So what would we have to do to win the race?”

Roman grinned. “I’ve hidden a copy of each of our logos in the store somewhere, except for mine, which Logan hid by sinking in and placing it in a random place, so he doesn’t know the layout of the store yet. You have to find your own logo, and then exit the store!”

Oh, so that was why Logan had a bump on his head. He’d probably tried to rise up too close to a shelf. Ouch.

“Everybody ready! Set! Go!”

They all rushed into the store. Patton looked around excitedly, getting more excited to see that the store was full of items that came from houses where Thomas had lived or visited. He ran to the section of beds and flopped onto the biggest one.

He let out a comfy sigh, looking up at the roof which, rather than being metal supports and too-bright lights, was intricately painted with something that glowed.

It was amazing.

“You did a really great job, Roman,” Patton said, even though Roman was probably running ahead to win the race— oh! This was a race!

He jumped up and started walking, looking around for his heart with glasses.

After the bed section, where he wished he could stay and flip onto each one, he wandered into the lamps and chandeliers section. That was beautiful. He was still dazzled and in awe walking out. It even had that massive one Thomas had seen in the one hotel once.

And then came books, where Logan was!

“Hi, Logan!”

“Ah, greetings Patton.” Logan was looking through the books, just as captivated as Patton had been by the beds.

“Find your logo yet?”

“Not yet. I’m not overly concerned with winning, and Roman has certainly made this an interesting place to browse.”

“Mhmm!” Patton looked around. “Where are the kids books, I want to see if the Winnie the Pooh book is still chewed on or if Roman made it brand new.”

“That way, two shelves down,” Logan said, rather distracted by a book he’d picked off of the shelf.

“Thank you!”

Patton found the children’s section, and then found the book. It was still chewed on the corners. He smiled, and flipped through the thick cardboard pages. Thomas had loved this book.

And then, when he opened the last page, his logo fell out.

“Awww, look!” He picked it up, and found that it was a sticker. He promptly stuck the sticker to his chest and put the book back. Now all he had to do was find his way out!

He wandered into the next section, which was all dark and purples and blues and blacks and everything cozily packed together.

There was even a sign warning him away from certain aisles, because there would be spiders, and Patton was very glad Roman had thought of that.

And then he remembered the sunglasses stand sitting at the beginning of the lights aisle. That was probably for Virgil. Roman had been so thoughtful in building this! Patton hoped Roman would win. He certainly deserved the prize after putting all this together.

There was a whole section of Disney, all the movies, and posters, and any Disney themed toys and figurines, and even cardboard cut outs! It was lovely and chaotic and colorful, and it bridged Virgil’s section with Roman’s very well.

Roman had every single picture Thomas had ever seen, which was so many pictures!! Patton looked in awe until he realized that the paintbrushes weren’t just for show, some of them had been used. There was a little black cat in the corner of one painting, and a little V, and the paintbrush was in a cup of black water.

Patton found a picture of a field of flowers, and picked up the paintbrush, dabbing a bit of pink onto the picture. It turned instead into exactly the kind of flower Patton had been envisioning! He smiled wide and painted another, and another, and another, and each one turned out beautiful!

He ran to another painting and gave a little boy in the background a balloon and a smile. And then he gave the lady sitting in a rocking chair a baby to hold.

He finally had to stop himself. He could stay here forever, but he probably should get to the end of the store so he wouldn’t worry the others.

He got to the end of Roman’s section, only to find a massive blanket fort. He kept himself from exploring, and passed through, coming out at… the beds again?

Ohhhhh, right. It was a race and a maze.

Patton flopped down on the bed Thomas had grown up with, wrapping up in the blanket. He let out a happy sigh.

“Logan! Roman! Virgil! I’m lost! But I’m also gonna stay lost!”

Roman rose up and leaned against the footboard, a pleased smile on his face. “Enjoying the store?”

“I’m loving it!” Patton said happily, sitting up. “You did a really good job!”

Roman glowed. “I guess I’ll have to leave it up for you to wander in then. Once Virgil finds the exit I’ll put it somewhere more obvious so you can get out once you’re done.”

“Oh, did you and Logan already get out? Who won?”

“Logan, but only by a few minutes. He hid my logo in a hard place! How was I supposed to guess he’d put it under the makeup stash?”

Patton chuckled. “Wait, I didn’t see that.”

“It’s in Virgil’s section, in one of the spider aisles. I can un-spider it for you if you want.”

“Well, let Virgil have his fun first, but I’d really like that.” Patton smiled. He could have fun in here for a long time. “You did an amazing job with the paintings too! I loved those!”

Roman puffed up happily. “I did, didn’t I?”

There was a distant, triumphant, “Ha! I made it! Wait, Princey beat me? Aww.”

Patton giggled.

Roman patted his shoulder. “Have fun.”

“I will!” Patton said happily, eyeing the blanket fort which he now had time to explore.

—————

If you enjoyed, please reblog! And consider supporting me as I try to make a living off of writing 😊

[amysteryspot]

Don’t know how to stop - Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

Prompts: 40. “I wasn’t lying when I said that I loved you.”; 69. “What do you want me to say?” + "Don't Know How to Stop" by Halestorm

Requested by: @sighonahurricane

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Changretta!Reader

Summary: “Or what, Thomas?” she interrupted him, defiance in her eyes as she glared back at him. “We both know you won’t kill me. You want revenge, want to see me suffer or you would have already killed me that night at the warehouse, in front of my father.”

Warnings: Smut/NSFW/+18, mentions of violence, swearing, there's a very brief implied reference to rape

Word Count: 2510

A/N: Not even going to try and find an excuse as to why this is longer than it should be, all you need to know is that I was in the mood. I absolutely loved to write this, but I'm feeling anxious about what you all are going to think of it. Really hope that you like it. For reference, reader is a Changretta and this is set between season three/four. Feedback is very much appreciated as always.

(Y/N) = Your Name | (Y/N/N) = Your Nickname

English is not my first language and this wasn’t proofread by a beta.

If you want to be tagged in my stories, just send me a message.

She had been the one that faced the Devil. Down on her knees in front of him, begging for her father’s life as he held the knife to her throat.

“One life for another,” she had offered, fingers curling into the fabric of his waistcoat. “You can have me. Do anything you want with me, just spare his life.”

The deal had been made that night, for reasons that Tommy still couldn’t understand, even after all these years. He wasn’t even sure if he had really considered the possibility of killing her, despite the rage clouding his mind at the time.

Vicente walked free, dragged out of the room in tears, at the expense of leaving his daughter behind, a prisoner of war.

Tommy confined her to the guest wing of Arrow House. He didn’t want to see her and be reminded of the reason why he slept in an empty bed now. It was easier to ignore her existence if he didn’t have to see her every day.

His son had other plans though. Somehow, Charlie found a way to escape his nanny and ended up finding (Y/N). Tommy knew something was wrong the moment he stepped into his son’s room to find it empty. It was safe to say that he was seeing red as he climbed down the stairs, calling for Mary and asking about the whereabouts of the nanny and the baby.

The door to her room hit the wall with a loud bang that startled both the women in there and Charlie, who was all curled up in (Y/N)’s arms.

Tommy looked at the nanny, ordering, “Take Charlie back to his room.”

She did as commanded, quickly, even though the boy didn’t seem very pleased with the idea of leaving (Y/N)’s arms. Tommy walked straight up to her, grabbing her tightly by the jaw, and almost lifting her from the ground.

“You don’t get to talk to him. You don’t even look his way or else…”

“Or what, Thomas?” she interrupted him, defiance in her eyes as she glared back at him. “We both know you won’t kill me. You want revenge, want to see me suffer or you would have already killed me that night at the warehouse, in front of my father.”

His hold on her had gone lax but he still kept his hands on her.

(Y/N) continued, “The boy came to me, I’m not going to blame a child for sins that aren’t his.”

Tommy observed her in silence for a minute. The rise and fall from her chest, the way both her hands were circling his wrist, how she didn’t show any sign of fear even though the imbalance in power was evident. He let her go, leaving the room without another world, only to be haunted by the image of her in his dreams.

“Are you going to kill her or fuck her?” Polly’s voice got him out of his trance.

He looked up at her but did not answer, because he didn’t know what to say.

Polly continued, “Because these are the two available options with you. You are either going to kill her or you’re going to fuck her. Considering that you are mourning, I would bet on the second, or you would have killed her already.”

She took a drag from her cigarette, taking her time in exhaling the smoke, before saying, “You men start wars because of your uncontrollable ego, and in the end, is always the women who pay the price of it.”

In the end, both Polly and (Y/N) were right. He didn’t kill her. His aunt’s words have made him realize something better to put a definitive end to this war between them and the Italians: a wedding. What could be worse for Vicente than having to marry his only daughter to a Shelby?

After a year of mourning, Thomas married (Y/N) Changretta, sealing the pact she had made with him for good.

They slept in separate rooms at opposite ends of the corridor. Since she was his wife now, Tommy had to get used to the idea that Charlie would have to be around her, or people would get suspicious. He had never been one to care about what people thought of him, but sometimes it was easier to maintain the appearances than to go against the norm.

If Tommy was worried about having to see her more often now that they shared the same corridor, he was wrong. (Y/N) was like a ghost. He rarely saw her outside of brief encounters whenever he was at home at the time the meals were served, the occasions when he found her in Charles’s nursery, or when she had to accompany at events.

On those occasions, (Y/N) was the image of a perfect, dutiful wife. She was well mannered and educated, making it easy for her to hold conversations with the most different people. Her charm and beauty helped her, and Tommy was surprised at how good she was at making people believe that their marriage wasn’t a sham.

His family and the staff of the house knew better though—all (Y/N) was was spoils of war.

They were surprisingly civil to each other, posing for the public eye as the perfect couple and avoiding each other like the plague at home. When they met at home, occasionally, a polite conversation could end up in a fight. Except for that night when Tommy found Charlie in (Y/N)’s arms for the first time, their arguments never turned physical.

Until one night when Tommy was especially pissed off by something business-related and ended up pressing her up between his body and the wall of her the drawing-room.

(Y/N) had never backed away from a fight, never showed any signs that she was afraid of him. But that night, that night the way she flinched when he touched her and the look of pure horror on her face as she looked at him, made Tommy let go of her immediately.

As he watched her ran away from the room, Tommy realized what must have crossed her mind, and the mere thought of it made his blood boil. The glass of whiskey that was on his desk exploded in a hundred pieces on the wall, before he retired to his room, plagued by the sight of her running away from him.

He tried to be more careful around her after that, always seeking some kind of consent from her before getting too close or touching her. Tommy would never force her to have sex with him, not for revenge, not because she was his wife.

They crossed the line from civil to friendly at some point, maybe after she sassed him because of Lizzie in front of the whole family, making everyone laugh, but he was not sure. What he did know for sure was that he started to see her as more than someone who was there because of a casualty of war somewhere along the way.

It was hard to ignore her after that. It was hard to ignore the beautiful woman navigating the corridors of his house, playing with his son in the garden, handling the staff, helping with the business. It was hard to ignore the woman he tried to avoid for so long, the woman he didn’t want to acknowledge.

He wasn’t sure at what point he had started to consider the idea to fuck her, it just happened. One night, after they arrived from a gala, fighting about something that Tommy didn’t even remember anymore, they fucked against the vanity in her room.

After that first time, it all went downhill. It was like getting high for the first time and then not being able to control the need to take another hit. (Y/N) was warm, soft, willing, and available, and Tommy decided that he wasn’t going to deny himself or his needs searching for other options when he had her right there.

Things escalated quickly and they developed some kind of silent agreement, another deal. During the day, they acted like old acquaintances, respectful, and civil to each other. But after dawn, they would seek each other out, drowning together in a desire that seemed to have no end.

That had been a long time ago, so long that he didn’t remember how it was not to have her around. Long enough for some unrequited feelings to show up.

He did his best to ignore the guy talking to (Y/N). They were hosting a dinner at Arrow House, the man talking to her was some rich bachelor from London that was being a little too friendly to Tommy’s liking. He downed the whiskey in one gulp and noticed Polly watching him, but his attention is quickly drawn back to his wife.

At the end of the night, after all the guests either left for home or to the guest wing and all that is left are the Shelby’s at the parlour, Tommy revels in the feeling of (Y/N) sitting beside him, reclining against the arm he rested behind her shoulders. From the other side of the room, Polly looks at him and smiles, like she knows something that he doesn’t.

It happens the week after the gala. They’re both getting ready for a family meeting. His room became their room, unofficially, because her things were scattered all over the place—her perfume and jewelry on the bedside table, dresses on the wardrobe, lingerie on the drawers, even the sheets smelled like her.

“Tommy,” she exclaimed in a reprehensive tone, as he pressed himself against her back, arms sneaking around her waist and preventing her from running away as his lips trailed down her neck. “What are you doing?”

“Giving some very due attention to my wife,” he answered, casually, walking them both closer to the bed.

“In broad daylight?” (Y/N) gasped, something between surprise and a protest, although she was doing very little to resist his advances.

“Want to see you,” he stated, before turning her around to kiss her.

“Your family is downstairs waiting for you,” she warned against his lips, breath uneven and fingers clutching onto his shirt.

“My family is downstairs waiting for us,” he corrected, nibbling her earlobe and smiling because of the sound she made. “Let them wait. They’re probably too occupied drinking, anyway.”

Any pretense of resistance from her part vanished when Tommy started to unbutton her dress. He was desperate to feel her skin against his, to taste her, and be inside of her. When they were both finally naked and pressed against each other on the bed, it felt like some kind of miracle.

Tommy drank her in, from the blush on her cheeks to the way her toes curled when he touched a sensitive spot on her body. All the scars, the birthmarks, the dips and curves, the softness of her skin, the heady taste of her on his tongue, and how wet she could get for him. He wanted it all, needed all of her.

He was tired to fight against it, tired of pretending that this feeling gnawing on his chest was something else.

“(Y/N/N),” he breaths against her skin, the feeling of her short nails scratching his back driving him crazy. “I love you.”

Her eyes open to stare right into his, something between surprise and uncertainty on her features. Tommy kisses her, gripping her tights a little harder to dive deeper into her.

The whimper of need that comes out of her lips makes him wild. All he can think about is how she feels, how good she feels, how right she feels. Here, underneath him, crying out his name, welcoming him into her body, scratching his back as the both of them get lost in pure pleasure.

All it takes to make her unravel is for him to press the engorged nub at the apex of her thighs. (Y/N) comes undone and brings him down with her, just a few trusts later, her walls milking him from his orgasm, his seed taking place deep inside of her for the first time in a long time because they were too lost in each other to care.

One more time they pretended, dressing in silence and walking down the stairs as nothing more than acquaintances. If his family suspected of something, they didn’t show it.

The meeting went uneventful, as planned. (Y/N) found a way to sneak out of the parlour before him and when Tommy went upstairs to his room—their room—he found it empty.

Sighing, he made his way to the other end of the corridor. He knocked one time, before letting himself in. (Y/N) was sitting in front of the vanity, taking the pins out of her hair. She was already dressed to sleep, the silk nightgown revealing her legs and a bit of the lace underneath. Their gazes met through the mirror as Tommy closes the door behind him.

“I wasn’t lying when I said that I love you.”

(Y/N) takes a deep breath, still not turning around to face him.

“Tom…”

“We’ve been dancing around this for too long, it’s time to face it.”

She sighs, a hand running through her face as she says, “What do you want me to say?”

He is in her in a heartbeat, pulling her up and pressing her against the vanity, just like the first time they had sex. Tommy takes her face in between both of his hands, nose brushing against her as he mumbles against her lips,

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Tom, I can’t. We can’t,” she protests, weekly, eyes closed and hands holding his wrists.

“A little too late for that because I don’t know how to stop this.”

“Your brother blinder my brother, Tommy. Your wife was killed because of that. I’m only here because you wanted my father that and I made a bargain with you. How this is supposed to work. What people will think?”

“Fuck what people think. We are already married, (Y/N). What happened, happened. We can’t change it. But this thing between us, this thing is real. I’ve denied myself that long enough, not going to keep pretending anymore. I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time now and I know, I know that you feel the same, so stop fighting against it and say it.”

Tommy’s lips brush against hers as he repeats himself, half plea, half command, “Say it.”

“I love you,” she whispers, eyes closed tightly as if the words will be less real if she can’t see him.

“Say it again,” he commands, nose bumping into hers while his thumbs caress her cheeks.

“I love you.”

“Again,” the sound is music to his ears and Tommy just can’t get enough of it.

(Y/N) opens her eyes, looks him in the eye, and professes, “I love you, Thomas Shelby.”

He smiles, for what feels like the first time in years, and confesses, “I love you too, Mrs. Shelby.”

.

Taglist: @stressedandbandobessed7771 @internalmess3 @theshelbyclan @giowritess @captivatedbycillianmurphy

[mandoalorian]

I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — Four: Lies

Summary: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person's relationship with his son. You've heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You've felt his pain and anguish and you've never been able to relate to anything more. But things don't come easy for you, and they certainly don't come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: brief mention of blood, allusions to an abusive household/family, mention of child custody battle, 80s typical misogyny, cursing.

Word count: 5,200>

Masterlist

I Believe In Love Masterlist

Previous - Chapter Four - Next 

-—-—-—-

He'd lied. You read the name over and over again, the crumpled letter shaking in your hands. Lorenzano. Lorenzano. Lorenzano. He wasn't Max Lord, he was Maxwell Lorenzano and you had no idea how he could lie to you - or better yet, why he would lie to you? There was a reason for everything. You might’ve been new to the world of man, and you might not yet understand their conditions and way of life, but it didn’t change the fact that this hurt. He was your first friend - your first real friend who wasn’t a child. He accepted you into his home, and he even believed you when you told him who you are. You had opened up about being a literal goddess from the secret haven Themyscira, and he hadn’t even told you his real name.

And then, your visions of him… memories and dreams… they hit you one by one. Now you could finally put a face to the voice that had been haunting you. He was the child you saw when you had fallen asleep in Black Gold Cooperative, the child who was getting bullied for the clothes he wore, and his shoes. You felt foolish not realising it sooner. The image of ‘Little Lorenzano’ getting tormented perfectly paralleled the way Alistair had gotten cornered in the park earlier today. Your heart ached for them both.

Max Lord was clearly putting on a brave face in front of you. But now that you knew who he really was, you knew that he was deeply hurting, and he needed your help. He might not realise it, but this is why you were here. You’d come to the world of man to fulfil your duty as the Goddess of Home and Hearth for a reason and Zeus had deliberately connected you with Alistair and Maxwell. This was your purpose. They were your purpose.

You smoothed out the letter to the best of your ability, deciding that if you were to help him, you should probably read it. You had hope that it would help you understand things and allow you to piece together the puzzle. You glanced back at the speckles of his blood in the sink, and the smashed vase on the floor. Whatever was in this letter had clearly angered him.

I, Theodore Thomas IV, share a bond with Miss Grey and recognise that she is a caring and devoted mother. We are in full belief that Alistair Lorenzano would be better off, in the care of his biological mother.

A bond. You were quickly able to identify that Julianna Grey was the mother of Alistiar, although the bond between she and Theodore Thomas IV had not yet become clear to you. Your heart would usually find warmth in the revelation that Julianna was, in fact a ‘caring and devoted’ mother, but instead it grew cold. As the goddess of home and hearth, you could sense the lie in his words. You wanted to believe that Julianna was a good mother, but your intuition said otherwise. These were your powers - and there was no way you were wrong about this. Despite the immediate concern you had for Allistair, you pushed the feeling to the back of your brain and forced yourself to continue reading the letter.

Mr Maxwell Lorenzano and Miss Julianna Grey divorced on the seventh month of 1980 after being married for two years. Miss Grey notes that their relationship was strained since the beginning, with Mr Lorenzano too preoccupied with his career to focus on his family.

Marriage - Max and Julianna were married. It was something you had read about back on Themyscira when you had spent time educating yourself on the ‘way of man’. Marriage was, supposedly, a sacred ritual that joined together the spirits of two people in the name of love. And love was the fundamental principle that would create a family. At the core of a family, was love, and that was the most important thing. Your eyes flicked back up the final sentence of the first paragraph; “We are in full belief that Alistair Lorenzano would be better off, in the care of his biological mother.” You couldn’t help but shake your head profusely. These people wanted to take Alistair away from Max? There was no way. Theodore may think that Julianna deserves Alisitair, but it was never going to be about ‘deserve’. It could only be about love. And you knew for certain that Maxwell loved Alistair with his whole heart.

I have known Miss Grey since 1980, after working on her and Mr Lorenzano’s divorce case. As not only her partner, but also a trusted lawyer of our capitol’s legal enforcement, I can whole-heartedly ensure that sole custody of Alistair Lorenzano must be granted to Miss Julianna Grey.

Divorce was something you weren’t so familiar with, and you figured it should be something you ask Maxwell about at a later date. It was at this moment you learned that Theodore was Julianna’s partner, lover, even. No wonder he thought so highly of her. There was no question about it. You knew you had to pay Julianna and Theodore a visit to see for yourself. You had to see the truth.

Please find us at the District Columbia Court, D.C., in one week from the date stated on the letter. If you make no effort to show and fight your case, you will be banished from seeing Alistair until he turns eighteen years of age.

Banishment? The thought of splitting up Max and Alistair filled you with the most excruciating pain. You couldn’t let this happen. You wouldn’t let this happen.

Sincerely,

Ted

So Theodore was Ted and Maxwell was Max. If you had known that names in the world of man could fluctuate so much, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten mad so mad at Max for lying about his name. After catching the address on the envelope, you engrained it in your memory and carefully folded up the letter and placed it in the pocket of the Maxwell’s pinstripe shirt that he had given you to wear. Now you just had to figure out a way to get to the address on the letter.

You spent some time sweeping up the shattered glass on the floor, and cleaned up the sink before padding back into the living room and sliding your feet back into your gladiator sandals, buckling them up. You even picked up the lasso of truth and tied it around your waist so it acted like a makeshift belt on you. There was no way you were going to leave it behind. You took another look at the photo frame that was on the small table next to the couch and picked it up. You smiled as you felt the exact same love that Maxwell felt when he was in the photo, holding baby Alistair. Just looking at the family portrait filled you with so much joy. You knew that Max’s love for his son was genuine.

Turning the frame over, you opened it up and took the glossy polaroid out, placing it in the same pocket of your shirt. You loved the photo and you wanted to take it wherever you went. 

It was cold outside, and the sky was a deep shade of blue. There was definitely a draft, and you wondered if you should’ve changed back into your Amazonian warrior gear. The oversized shirt that Maxwell had given you, as well as the gladiator sandals, didn’t really provide you with the greatest amount of warmth. You weren’t even wearing anything on your legs.

A small old lady with a zimmer frame was walking down the street. “Oh wow!” she exclaimed, looking you up and down, presumably judging your outfit of choice. “You have very nice legs, but aren’t you cold?”

You looked down at your legs, noticing the goose pimples, and nodded in confirmation. “Yes, but I’ll be okay. Do you think you could help me with something?” you asked curiously, watching as she raised her eyebrows.

“Me? Help you? What could little old me-”

You took the letter out of your pocket and pointed to the address. “How do I get here?”

She adjusted her glasses and squinted. “Thomas Family Lawyers,” she read out loud, before turning back to you. “Honey, this law firm is on the other side of Georgetown. You best call a cabbie, especially this late in the evening.”

“A cabbie?” you asked, shivering in the cold. “I’m sorry… I’m not from round here.” you shrugged helplessly.

“Let me help you.” the old lady said, reaching into her purse and bringing out an enormous 1984 brick-like cell phone. The contraption shocked you, and you even wondered how she had fit it in her bag. She pulled out the antenna and began to dial a number. “Hi, could I get a pre-paid taxi to Thomas Family Law Firm, Georgetown? Thank you,” She put the phone back in her purse and offered you a smile. “A cab won’t be long. I’m Mrs Stagg, by the way. Might I enquire… why are you going to a family law firm when you’re not even from the area?”

“To help a friend.” you returned the smile.

“Does your friend live in this neighbourhood?” 

“He does. Um… his name is Max Lord?” you explained but the way it left your lips made it sound more like a question. Lord? Lorenzano? What difference did it make?

“Ah,” was the small sound that emitted from Mrs Stagg’s throat. “Max Lord, the oil guy. My son Simon is- was an investor for Maxwell’s company. From what I heard, the company is bust. A joke. Max Lord has been scamming the entire nation for years.”

“Scamming?” you asked, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Black Gold Cooperative have shares in oil fields all around the world, only, the oil fields have completely dried up, you know - with the Cold War and all. But he kept going… kept making those silly infomercials and selling his dream. ‘Anything you want, you can have it.’ or something like that.” Mrs Stagg scoffed, shaking her head incredulously. You recognised the quote from when you had seen him all suited up on the television. 

“I don’t… I don’t understand. Why would he lie to the whole country?” you beckoned further, despite the conversation bringing you some uncomfort. Max had seemed like a genuinely good guy and a loving father up until this point. 

“For money, I suppose. That’s all it’s ever about with folk like him. Money. I chastise my son for it too. He’s the CEO of Stagg Industries and the only reason I could live in such a beautiful neighbourhood like this one. He bought my home here,” she beamed proudly. “But, I don’t know much about Max Lord. Don’t really see him around on the streets either. He must be cooped up in his office most of the time. Hey, you’re his friend. Maybe you should ask him why he’s nothing but a low-life conman.” 

Her words stung, and they weren’t even about you. You were completely lost for words, and surprised that she had so much hate in her heart for Max. Granted, if he was rivals with her son, it would make sense, but she did raise many questions that concerned you greatly. When the taxi pulled up, she paid the driver and helped you into the passenger seat. “I don’t know Max Lord,” she whispered from the other side of the car door. “But please darling, be careful.” She warned you before the cabbie whisked you away.

Your concept of time was slightly askew, but you figured the journey to the law firm lasted twice as long as the journey from Black Gold to Max’s home. You looked out the window taking in the stunning city at night. The buildings were all lit up and reflected against the windows, creating a glitter in your eye. There was nothing like this on Themyscira. No tall skyscrapers, no enormous shopping malls or company buildings. D.C. was booming, and it was beautiful. The journey allowed you to process Mrs Stagg’s words and think even more about Max. Clearly, both Julianna and Theodore had their reasons not to like Maxwell, and now, so did Mrs Stagg and her son Simon. You had to speak to Max and confront him. You knew there was more to him than what meets the eye.

Thomas Family Lawyer’s was a big building, not as big as Black Gold Cooperative, but it was still big. Just as you went through the revolving doors (which you had now grown accustomed to, due to your time spent and Max’s office) a group of girls began to file out. Whilst Raquel had been somewhat confused by your presence, these girls shot you the most evil of stares.

“Do you know what time it is? Office hours are closed. Why are you here?” One girl with sleek black hair spat coldly. You practically winced at the malice in her voice.

“Oh, I’m here to see Theodore Thomas?” you said slowly, nervously biting your lip.

“Who are you?” quizzed the same ebony haired girl.

“I’m a friend of Max Lord.” was the only thing you could come out with. Maxwell had warned you to refrain from identifying yourself as the ‘goddess of home and hearth’ in front of the public. He told you that people won’t believe him like he does, and that they’ll think you’re crazy. You had no choice but to believe him.

“Max Lord!” a red haired girl gasped, and a shorter blonde girl slapped her hand over the redhead’s mouth. “Sorry,” the redhead muffled as the blonde girl removed her hand. “He’s just so sexy.”

“But you know we’re not supposed to like him.” The blonde girl hissed.

“Huh?” you asked, knotting your eyebrows together. “Not supposed to?”

The ebony haired girl let out a longing groan. “Will the both of you just shut up?” she grimaced, glaring at the other two girls before looking back at you with that same mean stare. “Turn left, his office is the big one at the bottom of the corridor. You’re lucky he’s working late tonight.” 

“Yeah, on his girlfriend’s case.” The redhead said weakly.

“Can you not keep your mouth shut?” Snapped the black haired girl. “Why would you say that in front of this hobo stranger when she’s just said she’s Max Lord’s friend. She doesn’t need to know that Mr Thomas is working on the custody case! It’s a wonder he hasn’t fired you yet for being so stupid.”

You had zoned out of the pointless conversation about mid-way through anyway. Those girls were nothing but rude to each other anyway. You slipped past them and down the corridor until you reached two double doors, not hesitating for a second to open them up.

There, with his head buried down into a pile of papers, was a dark haired man in a tight fitted suit. He abruptly looked up when you had entered his office, his mustache wavering in bewilderment as he took in the appearance of a girl who was wearing nothing but an oversized button up shirt and brown strapped gladiator sandals. “C-can I help you?” he gulped, relishing the sight of his body like it was the sweetest view he’d ever come across. You crossed your bare legs together awkwardly, feeling slightly vulnerable by the way he was staring at you. 

“Are you Theodore Thomas IV?” you asked.

“I am.” the dark haired man confirmed, shuffling around in his leather seat.

You nodded, turning around to close the double doors behind you and walking over to his desk. You took out the crumpled up letter that had been addressed to Maxwell Lorenzano and slid it over the expensive oak wood. “What is this?” you questioned. Theodore took out his reading glasses before analysing it.

“Where did you get this letter?”

“Max Lord is my friend.” you gulped, folding your arms over your chest. “And this letter…”

“You mean Maxwell Lorenzano?” Theodore scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Listen, I’m not here to discuss that low-life loser, okay? I have more pressing matters to deal with.”

“So do I.” you persisted. “This letter…”

“Unless you’re his lawyer, and I doubt you are,” he snarled, looking at you up and down with the utmost disdain. “I will not be discussing the letter with you. Friend or not, it’s confidential.”

“I’m here to help him.” you gritted out, unable to believe the anger that dripped from your own tongue. It was true, you were angry. You were angry at the way everyone was so against Maxwell Lord, and you were angry at the fact the reason remained so unclear. Every new person you met didn’t like him, and you just wanted to know why.

Your words did pique the curiosity of Theodore, however. He raised an eyebrow and leaned over his desk, his gaze not breaking from you once. “Help him? You mean, you’ll be representing him in court?” You weren’t sure what that meant, but you nodded your head. If this was the only way you could get information out of Theodore Thomas IV, then so be it. “Do you even have any legal experience?”

“What? No. I told you, I’m just his friend.”

Theodore let out a boisterous laugh, the level of volume making you flinch. “Shit, he can’t even afford his own lawyer. I didn’t realise it was that bad,” he assumed. “Excuse me for one second.” he pointed a finger and dialled a number on the telephone.

Meanwhile, Maxwell was Julianna’s home. When Alistair heard his dad’s voice, he came running downstairs to greet him. “Daddy!” he called excitedly, running into his father’s arms. “You came back!” Maxwell picked up Alistair and spun him around, pressing a loving kiss to his son’s forehead.

“What do you want Maxwell?” Julianna sighed, tapping her foot impatiently against the marble floor of the lobby.

“To talk,” Max answered, placing Alistair back down on the floor. “Just us two. Uh- is Ted here?”

“Lucky for you he’s working late at the firm. Working on our damn case,” Julianna shook her head before turning to face her son. “Alistair, go to your room.” she commanded.

“But I want to see daddy!” Alistair cried, tears pricking his dark brown eyes.

“He can stay.” Maxwell negotiated but the comment was completely lost on Julianna.

“Go. To. Your. Room.” Julianna barked angrily, which sent a frightened Alistair running back to his bedroom.

“Shit Julianna, he’s just a kid. No need to talk to him like that.” Maxwell frowned, his ex-wife’s tone reminding him of his own father’s.

“Now Maxwell, I know you’re not giving me parenting advice, are you?” she asked sarcastically. Maxwell noted how bitter she had become, or perhaps, how bitter she always was. “I’m assuming you’re here to talk about the case. Try and change my mind. Well, you can’t.”

“Julianna, I know things have been rough between us since the divorce but I just want what’s best for Alistair. I love him so much.” Maxwell revealed.

“Bullshit!” Julianna scowled. “All you do, Max, is speak bullshit. You want what’s best for him? You’ll allow me and Ted to have full custody of Alistair. You’re a shit father and you know it.”

“I know- I know I’m messed up. I mean, I’ve messed up in the past but, something happened. Something inside me woke up and I’m ready to step up Julianna. I’ve changed, please just believe me. I love Ali-”

“You don’t deserve him,” Julianna growled. “You know what Maxwell? You’re nothing but a deadbeat. Just like your father was.”

Maxwell felt his face turn red with rage at his ex-wife's comment. He clenched his fists so hard his knuckles had even turned white. “I am nothing like my father!” Maxwell yelled defensively as the anger bubbled within him. He wanted to cry. Every time a memory of his own abusive father came up, it made Max want to curl up into a whole and cry. It broke him.

Before Julianna could reply, the phone on the wall began to ring. Julianna answered it.

“Hey, Julie?” Theodore was on the line, still laughing from his talk with you. “Baby, you won’t believe this.”

“What is it?” Julianna asked hesitantly, twirling the wire of the phone around her finger.

“Some girl- some half naked girl is here- in my office claiming to be a friend of Maxwell,” Theodore spluttered. You frowned at his tone of voice as he talked about you, right in front of you. Julianna turned to Maxwell in bewilderment, who was just standing there and had no idea what was going on. “She’s saying she’s going to represent him during the custody trial.”

“What?” Julianna spat. “Who the fuck is she?”

“I don’t know! Never seen her in my life. Pretty little thing though, I guessed maybe he’s fucking her? Not sure. She says she’s living with him.”

“Living-” Julianna couldn’t help but repeat her boyfriend’s words. “Teddy, Maxwell is here. Right now. Can you come home and… bring her with you? I want to have words with her.”

“Got it. See you soon sweetie.” Theodore finished before hanging up the phone.

Julianna turned to Max. “That was Theodore. He says some half naked girl has shown up to his office claiming to be a friend of yours.”

Maxwell’s eyes went comically wide as his greatest fears became realised. “What? No, no- there’s no way. That’s impossible. I told her to stay at home- how the hell did she get to Thomas Family Lawyer’s?”

“You’re asking me?” Julianna gasped in disbelief. “Who the hell is she, Max?”

Max was so confused and shocked, he couldn’t even find words. If you had found your way to Theodore’s office, that meant you had read the letter. It also meant that you knew his name. And finally, it meant that you had completely invaded your privacy. Part of Maxwell was mad, but an even bigger part of him was confused as to how you ended up on the other side of Georgetown in the office of his ex-wife’s current boyfriend. You weren’t even from round here, hell, you’d only gotten into a car for the first time today. Julianna and Theodore weren’t the only ones who had a thousand questions. Maxwell did too.

When you arrived at the Thomas family home, you looked at it with complete adoration, just like how you looked at Maxwell’s home. It was extensive in size, with beautiful pillars and adorned with flowers on every corner. Maxwell and Julianna were waiting for you and Ted in the dining room. Ted hung up his suit jacket on the coat peg in the lobby and you slowly followed him into the dining room. Unlike Maxwell’s home, which was covered with photographs of Alistair, you couldn’t spot a single picture of the bright eyed child in any of the rooms you passed. You wondered why.

When you entered the room, Julianna’s and Maxwell’s jaws both dropped in unison. “She’s wearing your shirt!” Julianna screeched, pointing her finger accusingly at you. 

“Yeah? So fucking what?” Maxwell shot back. “I didn’t realise you can police my wardrobe now!”

Your gaze flicked between Maxwell and Julianna who were already arguing with each other. "Can we settle down?" Theodore intervened, placing his briefcase down on the table.

Maxwell turned to you and took a deep breath. "Why- why didn't you put on some clothes before you left the house?" he sighed, closing his eyes as he tried to keep his composure.

"I- I didn't have any clothes and. I didn't know if it was normal to dress like this in the world of man." you admitted sheepishly, feeling embarrassed that you'd made a fool of yourself and seemingly Maxwell too.

"The world of what?" Julianna scrunched up her nose. "She has no clothes? Maxwell, where did you pick this whore up?"

You stiffened up at her harsh words and Maxwell's dark eyes snapped open. "Don't call her that," he warned. "She's… different. Look, I can't explain now but-"

Julianna turned to Theodore. "I want her out of my house. She's a fucking prostitute."

"She's not a prostitute," Maxwell sighed, running his fingers through his dark blonde hair as the stress engulfed him. "She's just a friend."

"I want her out." Julianna reiterated, her voice like venom.

"I- I can wait by the car," you told Maxwell timidly. He didn't reply, instead just putting his head in his hands. You turned to Julianna and Theodore. "I apologise for any intrusion I may have brought upon you both." you said before walking away.

Even before you got to the front door, you'd heard them start fighting again. Maxwell wasn't yelling, but Julianna was so loud and accusing. You couldn't help but feel like she brought around such a toxic environment.

As you leaned against Maxwell's car, you looked up at the upstairs window. It was illuminated, signifying that the light was on. It was so cold and you couldn't help but sigh as you waited for your friend to return and take you home— if he still liked you, that is. After everything that had gone on, you wouldn't be surprised if he just left you on a street corner to fend for yourself. 

You were delighted when you saw Alistair in the illuminated window. He poked his head around the curtains, smiling and waving immediately when he saw you. You grinned back, thankful to see the sweet boy and to know that he was okay. The smile on his face dropped and although you couldn't hear what was going on back in the house, you could tell by his expression that there was something wrong. Alistair disappeared from the curtains and you began to untie the lasso of Hestia from your waist. Swinging the rope around in the air, you attached it to Alistair's balcony and swung yourself up to the third storey of the Thomas family home. You quietly tapped on his window. After only a few seconds Alistair returned and let you in.

You clambered back into the house, finding yourself in the little boys bedroom. "Hey Alistair, how you doing?" you smiled, kneeling down and giving your friend a hug.

"I'm good, I'm so glad to see you again!" Alistair confessed with a toothy grin. "How did you get up here?" Alistair asked curiously, stepping out onto the balcony and looking at the long way down from where you had been standing by his father's car.

You gulped. "Can you keep a secret?" you whispered. Alistair nodded enthusiastically. "Okay." you showed Alistair your lasso, and he watched it with bright eyes as it glowed gold. If you could trust Max, you knew for a fact you could certainly trust Alistair. After all, they were your purpose. They were the reason you had found yourself in the world of man.

"Whoa, what is it?" Alistair asked, pointing his finger hesitantly, as if he wanted to touch it but not sure if it would hurt him.

"It's magical," you revealed. "My mother Hestia gave me it. It lets people see the truth, and speak the truth. It knows when you're lying."

"...And it helps you climb up really tall buildings? Like Spiderman?" Alistair asked with wide eyes.

You giggled. "Yes."

"Can I try?" Alistair beckoned further.

"Maybe one day," you promised him. "It can be difficult to learn, but I'd love to teach you." 

You and Alistair both gasped as you listened in on what was going downstairs. You heard footsteps, and it sounded like Max was leaving. You rose to your feet and approached the window again, unravelling your lasso. "Hey, I have to go now. Listen, you can't tell Julianna or Ted that I was up here, okay? I don't think they like me."

"Oh, they don't like anyone who's associated with daddy." Alistair frowned, but nodded understandingly. "Are you going home with daddy?"

"I hope so." you replied, because there was really no way of telling where you stood with Maxwell at this point in time.

"Good," Alistair beamed, and in that moment, you recognised his smile to be the spitting double of his father's. "Because I like it when you're around daddy. He's not as miserable."

You tilted your head but had no time to question Alistair because you heard the front door open. Swinging back on your lasso, you attached it to the branch of a tree and dropped back down to the front of the porch where Maxwell's car was parked. Wrapping your lasso back around your waist, you pretended like you hadn't moved from the car— like you had been waiting for him this entire time.

"Good night!" Maxwell called but earned no response, only the slam of the front door. He sighed deeply and slumped his shoulders in defeat before turning to face you. His lips were curled into a frown and he shook his head as he approached you, sliding past you and unlocking the car door. "Get in." he told you, to which you obliged and slipped into the passenger seat.

Maxwell dropped his head to the wheel of the car in frustration. He wanted to scream. Cry. Yell. Curse. He hated this. He hated having to fight for what was already his. He needed Alistair— his life would be empty without his son. There was no question about it. And unfortunately for Max, he was beginning to lose all hope.

"Are you okay?" You asked, feeling as though the question was a stupid one considering the disheveled look on Maxwell's face. You placed a hand on his back with full intention to be comforting. He didn't reply. After a few seconds of silence, you heard his sobs. You heard his whimpers and chokes. "Oh Max." you whispered quietly, rubbing his back.

"I can't— I can't fucking do this," Maxwell cried, tears dripping down his cheeks and falling onto the steering wheel. "They're right— what they say about me— they're all right. I'm a monster."

You winced, shaking your head at his comment. "You are not a monster." you assured him.

"You don't even know me," Maxwell huffed before glaring at you, the tears still falling. "You're just— you're just some random girl who came into my life at the wrong fucking time and— I don't even know why you're here. Why are you here?" He said your name like it was poison and the desperation in his voice was enough to make your heart ache.

You swallowed. "When I found out your name, your real name, I knew for certain… Zeus brought me to you and Alistair for a reason. Everything is so clear now. Max, I'm here to help you."

"I'm screwed— we’re screwed. It's pointless. There's nothing we can do. We can't go up against them. Julianna is a fucking psycho and Ted is one of the best family lawyers in the state—"

"And I'm the daughter of Zeus and Hestia. I'm the Goddess of Home and Hearth and I will not let them rip you away from Alistair." you promised with pure determination in your voice. The change of your tone was enough to make Maxwell stop crying and look up to you like you were his saviour. His angel. And despite everything that happened, despite the feeling of complete hopelessness, he believed you.

The war began now.

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[peakyxtommy]

Kidnapped - Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tommy Shelby and his wife are going to have their first baby in a week. She gets kidnapped due to Tommy’s business dealings. He has to find her and their unborn baby in time. (Requested By: @babylooneytoonz​) 

WC: 3.6K

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Mild Violence 

A/N: Sorry this took me so long to complete. Thank you so much for your patience, greatly appreciated. I hope you enjoy this and I really enjoyed writing this!! 

It was starting to get colder in Birmingham, as December was almost here with Christmas right around the corner. You had one week left until it was time to give birth to the growing baby in your stomach. You couldn’t have been happier for the arrival of your first born son. When you found out the news you were excited and a little nervous to tell Tommy, unsure of what his reaction was going to be. After the initial shock of the words left your mouth, he was just as happy as you to have his baby. He drove you just as wild as you drove him during these past almost nine months. 

You put up with his over-protectiveness of always having someone travel with you where you went, having to let the maids help more than usual, and helping him deal with his doubts about becoming a father. Always reminding him of how much you trusted him and how he cared his best but showed it differently than others. He dealt with your morning sickness, cravings, mood swings of where you’d get angry with him over small things, sad over things that were normal or didn’t make you cry before, and your changing body which he always made sure you felt loved and comfortable in whatever you were wearing. He was sweet, supportive, and helpful as much as he could be through the whole pregnancy. 

Today was no different as you found yourself getting a little fussy and annoyed with how cleaned and prepared everything was becoming for the arrival of the baby. Being stuck in the house the past few days because of the snow didn’t help. You finally convinced your husband of two years to let you come to the betting shop with him. 

“Can you please help me put my shoes on Tom?” You sigh as you walk into your husband’s office. He zips up his bag as you come closer to the large mahogany desk. His blue eyes meet yours with a small grin.

“Who said you were leaving the house?” He gives you a serious look as you roll your eyes at his mocking.

“I said I am leaving this house before I burn it to the ground. If you don’t let me out, you will be burning to the ground with it.” You tease playfully, swatting him on the chest, as he pulls the chair out for you to take a seat as he begins doing up the laces. 

“Who knew I married an arsonist.” He plays along, as you stand to leave, swatting you on your bum as you make your way to the front door. 

As soon as you arrive at the office after greeting everyone and talking to the women for a little bit, you take a seat in the rocking chair, he got just for you and your growing bump. You curl up under the huge blue blanket and begin to finish reading a baby book your mother got you as he writes letters that need to be sent. It’s only a little after 1pm when your baby starts kicking around and your stomach begins to growl. 

“Tommy we’re hungry.” You speak, removing the blanket from your body. You stand folding and hanging it on the back of the chair, making your way to your husband's chair. 

“You’re hungry, how can I be of assistance.” He moves his papers to the side as you take a seat upon the desk with his assistance. His warm hands find your growing bump and begin rubbing small circles enjoying the feeling of knowing he was going to see his son soon. He could feel the love growing in his heart as the day got closer. 

“I think we want fish and chips again for the 100th time.” You laugh as you knew Tom was tired of having this meal but would indulge you sometimes but often more than not would just get a sandwich. 

“Alright, I’ll call it in. Maybe we’ll stop at the sweets shop on the way back.” His blue eyes pierce into your eyes. You couldn’t be any happier than you were to be with him. In these moments he was yours and yours only, wrapped in a little world. If only it could stay this way forever.

It’s only a short while longer until it’s time to pick up the meal. As soon as you are ready to leave with Tom, a blinder man walks in with a worried expression. 

“Tommy, there’s an emergency, you’re needed on the phone.” He nods helping you off the desk, before picking up the phone. As soon as the call ends, he explains, he's needed at one of the docks. There’s an issue with the police. He wasn’t sure if he was going to go, but decided to. 

“Sorry love, but I should be back in an hour tops.” His warm lips press into the skin on your forehead. It says all that you both need at the moment. He tells his men to go with you and make sure to get you back safely. 

If only life could be that simple for Thomas Shelby. 

-

You enter the car with Kyle, your usual driver and one of the young blinders James that Tommy recently hired. You enjoyed both their company and trusted them with your life. As you begin the drive to the restaurant you don’t notice the car tailing slowly behind you all. 

The first stop goes fine without any complications. You ask to drive to the sweet shop to pick up some treats for yourselves and the office. You go inside and talk with Dolares who owns the bakery. Picking out the sweets, when all of a sudden you hear loud gunshots outside the shop, followed by screaming on the inside of the shop. All the commotion goes quiet as you’re met with two tall guys in black hats with a golden symbol on top with guns. 

“Give Us, (Y/N) Shelby, Now!” The first guy screams waving his gun in the air.

“And nobody gets hurt!” His accomplice screams after James begins to draw his gun to take a shot. The gunshot goes off. It ends with James on the floor clutching his arm, yelling out in agony. 

“I’ll go with you! Please don’t hurt anyone else.” You plead feeling the adrenaline rush through your body with fear to your core. The guy on the right, takes your arm tightly in his, tugging you along with him, as his gun points into the crowd of scared civilians watching in horror as the first guy opens the door. They shove you into a car and blindfold you, making their getaway. 

-

The event takes longer than anticipated. By the time he gets back to the office he finds himself to be actually hungry and ready to rest for a moment in your presence before completing the never ending mountain of work on his desk. As soon as he opens the door to the shop, he can tell something is wrong. He could feel the tension as he entered the room. The workers were silent and no one was looking him in the eyes. Arthur calls him into the office, shutting the door behind them, as he walks inside to see his brothers, cousin, Polly and only one of the men he sent with him. He double scans the room noticing your missing but thinking maybe you were in the loo. 

“What’s wrong with all of you? Like like the lot of you, have seen a fucking bloody ghost.” He speaks noticing the straight faces of his family and nervousness of his younger brothers.

“Tell him Arthur!” Polly huffs, staring at the eldest Shelby brother who approached in front of his brother. 

“Listen Tom…” Arthur begins but his brother’s impatience gets the best of him.

“Just spit it out will you!” He shouts, thrashing his hands in the air.

“They took (Y/N) and the baby.” He responds and Tommy feels his blood run cold. He feels sick in the pit of his stomach and body is overcome with emotion as his head falls into his brother’s shoulder screaming out your name, as Arthur pats his shoulder, calling out reassurances to try to get him to calm down. It takes a few minutes for him to get a small grip on himself, trying not to let his mind travel to the worse case scenario. 

“What do we know so far? Where are the men I sent with her?” He asks, fishing out a smoke from his pocket. 

“James was with her when the accident occurred. He got shot in the arm, so we sent him to get patched up. He’ll be fine, but he said the men were older. Kyle said, they must have been following them for a while, before they even left.” Arthur continues to tell the information. 

“Well let's start searching the area and calling around. We’ve wasted enough time. We need to find her, she’s due any day now.” He speaks in a calm tone and claps his hands as every gets up to get to work on finding you.  

All he knew as he began his search for you was that he needed to find you and fast. He wouldn’t forgive or be able to live with himself if something happened to you and let alone his unborn son. It would be the day hell froze over and Thomas Shelby couldn’t handle going to Hell, not just yet. 

-

You hear the car go down a gravel road before making a sharp stop. You hear the doors open and slam shut, before you are forcibly grabbed to be ushered out the car and into a cold building. You can smell the makings of bread and liquor before you behind a room with a musky smell to it. Your capturer finally lets you go and releases the blindfold from your eyes. You take in the small space of the red brick walls and bags of flour on one side of the room. The room is almost completely dark except for a small light shining from the window from the inside of the building. 

“This is where you’ll stay if your husband ever comes to find you. The guy from the scene speaks in a dark tone, shutting and locking the bolt behind him. There you begin to take steps around the small room, the adrenaline finally leaving your body as you are able to calm down for a moment. It doesn’t take away the fear, making it become more prevalent than before. Your mind worries about James, the baby, and Tommy. You start to take deep breaths to soothe yourself and decide to talk to the baby in your stomach to take your mind off it all. 

“Hey little guy it’s mummy. I just wanted to let you know everything is going to be okay. Mummy is going to protect us while we’re here in this new place. Your daddy is out looking for us, I'm sure of it. He’s going to find us, I promise. All I need you to do, is to stay inside just until daddy comes and finds us. We love you.” You pace around the small dingy room, crying, as your fingers rub your stomach, while trying to get your mind off the situation at hand. 

You didn’t want to put too much stress on your body on top of this already stressful situation. It didn’t help that your baby was supposed to be coming literally any day and now you were far away from his father and family. You hoped Tommy would find you both before you went into labor because you didn’t think you could manage going through it alone, let alone in a dangerous situation as this was. As you sat down against a bag of flour, you closed your eyes to sleep, feeling your son give a small kick, giving you peace. 

-

It was two days later and Tommy was actually closer to finding out where you were. He sent calls down to the docks, Camden town, and city of London to spread the word that you were missing and to be on the lookout. He barely slept more than five hours each night, due to Polly harassing him. Telling him that he would be no good to you tired and out of sorts. Each night he could barely fall asleep with fear gripping his heart about you and wondering if you were okay. Waking up in a cold sweat of him never finding you or finding dead somewhere. 

“We know who took her! We have an address.” John speaks running into his office, as he just arrived to try to think over who wanted to target him.

“Who? Where is she?!” 

“It’s the Malone brothers, they wanted to get revenge on you for that deal. The ones with the guns and the booze. 17 Crown St London, there’s warehouses nearby.” John reads before handing his older brother the piece of paper in his hand, who began staring at it as his last resort. 

“Let’s go give them an even better deal and show them they don’t mess with Thomas Shelby.” He rages as his brother follows, meeting the others in the car as they drive off fast to London. 

-

You had been stuck in this room for two days and felt yourself getting weaker and weaker. All they gave you was small cups of water and a few scraps of bread. You wondered if Tommy was any closer to finding you or if you were going to be kept here forever. You still trusted he was going to find you, but you just hoped he would get there soon, because you couldn’t survive much longer in this condition, especially with the strain of the baby. 

-

“Start looking in all the warehouses and when you find them, save them for me.” He orders as he and the blinders began causing chaos. He and Arthur start checking warehouses together. Once they reach the third, they enter quietly. Walking down the long dark hall following the light at the end. When they get there they see the Malone brothers laughing together.

“Oi boys, sorry to crash the party, but we have some business to handle.” Arthur shoots his gun into the air. 

“Took you long enough to find us.” The eldest Craig, responds as they draw their weapons.

“Think you’ve been in the game too long, that you’re losing your touch.” Darrel, the other man snares. 

“Where’s my wife?!” Thomas close points the gun right in his face. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know. How are you sure we didn’t kill her?” He responds condescendingly, spitting. 

“If she was dead, you wouldn’t be breathing as long as you have.” He takes the the first punch

while Arthur takes the other. Both giving them a pounding and throwing firsts in his face repeatedly. He takes the blade slicing his eyes, blood splattering everywhere. He takes a moment to catch his breath, the adrenaline spurring him on his search to find you. He goes around the corner going down a corridor and he hears banging on a door half way through on the left. He looks at the bolt  taking a second to figure it out, before of twisting the huge bolt, to find you screaming for help. 

“Tommy!” Your voice cries out to him as he takes you into his arms. You can smell the stench of blood on him, but glad to be with him. 

“I’m here love, I’m Here. I’ve got you.” He holds you close to his chest for a second longer before deciding to move you out. He lifts you into his arms holding you tight to his chest, instructing you to close your eyes. Not wanting you to see the messy scene inside the building, as just hearing it was traumatizing enough. You were used to him coming home covered in blood and bruises. You never really had to hear or see physically the chaos caused, more than a good right hook. 

As soon as you get into the car safely. He wipes his face and  has as much blood as possible. Holding you into his side as you drove back home in a silence, that left the air warm. 

-

Once home, Frances and Mary greet you at the door. The doctor is on the couch waiting for you to be checked out. He gives you a clean bill of health and tells you the baby is healthy, which makes you both breathe a sigh of relief. Tommy helps you up the stairs and gives you both a hot shower. He lotions your body and dresses you in the warmest pajamas you have. He asks Mary to bring you some soup and tea for dinner knowing you had to be hungry. You just sit in silence trying to soak your safety net back in. 

Tommy just sits at the side of the bed in a chair, not sure what to say, having too much on his mind that the word vomit was ready to come out but he was holding it in. Waiting for you to make the move to release your emotions. It happens right after you finish your dinner, Frances comes saying he’s wanted on the phone. You can feel your heart drop, not wanting him to leave the room. To be out of your sight. You needed him, you needed his comfort.

“Please don’t get the phone. Stay.” You plead quietly, he tells her to take a message, rushing over to you as the dam breaks and you begin soaking his shoulder with warm tears. Tears of many emotions. 

“Shh..Shh. I'm not going anywhere love. I’m going to stay right here. Talk to me.” He pleads fingers rubbing your back in comforting circles.

“I was so scared. I knew you would come rescue us, I told him you would. You did but I can’t stop wondering if you didn’t or if you got hurt saving us.” Your fingers clutch him tightly, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“I was scared too, but I made you a promise on the day we started dating and when we wed, that i’ll always protect you. I’ll always save you from danger and rescue you. You’re my wife and I love you too much to think of what life would be like without you. We’re having a baby, and it’s my job to protect him. I’m sorry I got you both in that situation.”  He wipes the remainder of your tears away with the pad of his thumbs, looking into your eyes with fondness.

“You’re forgiven. I love you so much Tommy.” You pull his face to meet your to kiss the man that had your heart forever. 

“Please tell me you weren’t too hard on James. I didn’t want any bloodshed and I couldn't stop thinking about if that was our kid. I know they’re supposed to be dangerous, but I didn't want anyone to get hurt.” You speak after a few minutes of silence, the young lad making its way back to your thoughts. You  knew he trusted your judgment and trusted you even in that situation. 

You were one to hold your own and all his men respected you. When you meant business they followed your orders. With the young peaky men they respected you as much as they admired you. You got along with Finn, Michael, Isaiah, and James. They followed your orders but you would also spoil them sometimes with sweets or buying them lunch when at the office which would earn you a scolding from Tommy sometimes. That they’re meant to help and be tough, but you treated them like the growing men (boys) they were. They appreciated it secretly. 

“He’s good love, at home resting so he can get back to the gang.” He squeezes your hand in his. It’s just quiet a moment, just you two admiring the other after being away from the other. 

“Let’s get some rest, doll.” He pecks your lips, before tucking you in one your side of the bed as you turn to face his side. He slips in coming as close as possible with your bump between the two of you. You fall asleep with the comfort of your husband and quietness of your home. 

- 

It was the next morning when you awoke to aching back and cramps in your abdomen. The baby was moving around profusely in your stomach, as you decided to slip out of bed to pace around the room. Tom laid in bed with a peaceful expression on his face, snoring lightly as you stood watching the sun come up through the blinds. Having the window open just a small crack from fresh air to help alleviate the symptoms you were feeling. It’s only an hour later when you hear Tom stir, due to the creaking of the bed, the weight of his body shifting upward. His knuckles rub the sleep out of his eyes, before grabbing his glasses, off his nightstand, eyes finally coming in contact with yours. 

“What are you doing out of bed love?” His voice rasps, as you make your way toward him. 

“Couldn’t sleep, the little one in there might be ready to make his appearance.” You smile down at him, watching his expression match yours, as he entagles your fingers together. 

“I’ll keep Pol on speed dial. For now, let’s have some breakfast, as we wait.” You nod, pulling him along downstairs to eat. 

It was only after breakfast, did your water break when you were making your way to the living room.

-

Twelve hours later after a long time waiting, screaming, and then pushing all with Tommy and Polly by your side was your son, finally in your arms. He was no bigger than half a foot tall and looked adorable already even in his first minutes on the outside world. You were sitting up holding him in your arms admiring him with Tommy who was full of joy. 

“I can’t believe we made this.” He whispers, pressing a kiss against your temple. 

“Neither can I. He’s ours and I couldn't imagine doing life without you by our side.” You speak as the door creaks open, revealing the Shelby clan.

“Everyone meet Liam Michael Shelby.” Tommy says proudly holding his son in his arms as the family gathers around to take turns holding him. All congratulating you both and talking about how cute he was already. 

Tommy knew in that moment how truly lucky he was to be experiencing this moment. Although fear still gripped his heart, he knew, he would forever protect you and his son, no matter the trouble that came along.

-

Taglist:

@captivatedbycillianmurphy​

[simpleserendipity]

Wish you were here | Calum Hood

Pairing: Calum Hood x Reader (established relationship) Warning: angst, swearing, death, blood (very minor) Word count: 2,218 words

This was inspired by the song Wish you were here by Neck Deep

Saying that Calum Thomas Hood is your boyfriend is an understatement. He is your lover, your confidant, your teacher, your best friend, and your soulmate. Every day you’re left wondering how you could have found someone like him among all the people in the world. How someone so caring, smart, funny, handsome, and kind fell for you. It’s like he was made to be yours and you were made to be him, there was no one else for you two but each other. Your relationship rivaled only those of a fairytale.

You two had nothing but hopes and dreams for your lives together until the day it all changed. The day that you lost him. You were right beside him when the accident happened. You took months to recover but he was touch and go from the moment he was pulled from the wreck and didn’t even make it through the night. You didn’t even get to say goodbye because you were still under surgery, a life-saving surgery you needed to survive. Not that you would call this living because without him it’s surviving, not living. Realistically there wasn’t like there was much you could have done but you keep thinking maybe if we hadn’t argued 3 days earlier, maybe if you hadn’t insisted on going to the party, or maybe if you hadn’t been singing so loud. You just keep thinking maybe there was one thing you could have done. You know that it wasn’t your fault and it wasn’t Calum’s either so you didn’t understand why the world was so cruel. You knew it was the fault of the ice on the road and the driver who was speeding and spun out into your car. You couldn’t tell if it was guilt that you survived and he didn’t or if it was just the pain of losing him. You knew that if either of you should’ve survived you know it should’ve been him, you always knew that Calum was the light in a lot of people’s lives, especially yours.

You knew this day would come, where you had to pack up Calum’s house. It took you months to gather the courage to set a time with everyone to pack up the house because the idea of setting foot in this house without the possibility of seeing him, makes you sick.  After the accident, you took care of Duke but you still couldn’t go into the house, Luke having to bring Duke to your apartment. Now Duke is one of the only pieces of Calum you would have left. You haven’t slept this entire week in anticipation of this day. but you thought it would be under such different circumstances. You always pictured packing the house to move to your home. You always assumed this house would be packed up so you two could start your lives together in a shared space, not because he was gone. Now all you’re left with is pictures of his smile, videos of him laughing with you, memories of nights you spent together tangled in the sheets, talking and laughing. You have all of his things but nothing would matter if he wasn’t around to use them.

Now you had Calum’s best friends and his family here, helping you pack up the house. The worst part was having to explain that while they left the house to you and it would be one hell of an upgrade from your shoebox apartment, you couldn’t stay here. This big empty house was only a home because of who you shared it with, it would never be a home without him. You assigned each person to a room, you took his bedroom for yourself, wanting to savor each memory the room would bring up. You moved to the nightstand, picking up the framed photo of you two that he had put up. You remember being so surprised when you saw he framed a picture of you two for his bedside, he said he wanted to wake up to your face even if you weren’t with him.

“______?” A voice startled you and you dropped the picture frame, the corner hitting the floor. The frame broke and the glass shattered upon hitting the wood floor. You broke it, one of the sweetest memories you had of him.

“Shit,” You knelt to clean it up before looking back to see Ashton coming over to you, “What’s up?” You asked hurriedly, trying to clean the glass from the floor.

“Hey hey hey,” Ashton urges, kneeling beside you, “Wait a minute you’re gonna cut yourself on the glass.”

“It’s fine,” You reassure, your tone shaking and tears pricking your eyes, “Did you need something?” You sped up your motions.

“I just came to see how you’re doing.” Ashton places a hand on your shoulder.

You scoffed, “I’m fine. How are you?” You continued to scoop the glass up.

“______,” Ashton places a hand on yours, trying to get you to not worry about the glass anymore, “I’m serious. I know this must be hard for you.”

“Ashton, I’m fine.” You huffed, shaking his hand off yours, focusing on cleaning the glass again. You couldn’t help but feel guilty because everyone was walking on eggshells around you as if they didn’t lose their brother/son/best friend, “How are you? I know this is hard for you too.”

“It is hard,” Ashton agrees, “But I know it’s gotta be hardest for you.”

“And why would it be hardest for me? I mean his parents lost their son, Mali lost her brother, you guys lost your best friend and your fans lost their idol. Everyone lost a lot-”

Ashton cuts you off, “You lost your soulmate.”

Your breath hitches at the words and your hand slips, slicing your finger on the glass, “Shit.” You looked down at your finger which was bleeding.

“______, I told you to be careful,” Ashton shakes his head, “Go clean up and I’ll finish boxing up the room.”

You just nod. It doesn’t take you a second thought before you’re on your feel headed to the large bathroom. The bathroom was all dark tile which should be more intimidating but all you could think about is the mornings you spent, showering together, the nights in the bathtub, or getting ready to go somewhere together. You stop at the sink and rinse the blood away. The blood is an awful reminder of the worst night of your life. You keep rising until it’s all gone, letting out a shaky breath. You slowly crouch down to look in the cabinet where Calum kept the first aid kit. You had to shuffle through the random products under the sink, “Where the hell is it Calum?” You muttered to yourself, feeling your heart sink a little more when his name left your lips. You rummaged a little more until the white plastic first aid kit was found, you moved to shut the cabinet but a little black box tucked into the far corner catches your eye. You move to shut the cabinet, not wanting to snoop in his things before realizing that he couldn’t yell at you about snooping anymore. You huffed to yourself, “What were you hiding Hood?” You grasped the box. It was black crushed velvet, a jewelry box. You carefully flip it open like someone would walk in and catch you. It revealed a ring, a diamond ring in the center, and two colored stones, one on each side, his birthstone and yours. “This can’t be,” The tears you had been holding back all day finally came streaming, “Calum you’re a dick,” You said in hysterics, looking up to the sky, “You really did it. You listened to my idea for an engagement ring and fucking made it.” You couldn’t quite discern what you were feeling at this moment because while you thought you ought to be in tears, you couldn’t help but laugh instead. “You made my dream engagement ring, then I assume you were gonna propose then you went and fucking left me?” You were in full hysterics now, silent tears streaming while your mind was racing. You decided to pull it out and slip it on. The ring fits like a glove hurting you more than ever, “And it fits perfectly. Of course, it does.” You sit down with your back slumped against the bathtub, still in shock of the find.

You wanted nothing more than to walk out of this room, down the hall to his studio, and see him sitting at his computer. You wanted to slap the back of his head and chew him out for hiding this in such an easy-to-find spot but you couldn’t. You instead slipped the ring off and back into the box, just staring at it. Ashton’s knock at the door startles you, “You alright?” He asks as he slowly opens the door.

You shut the box and look at Ashton, “Did you know?”

He glances between your eyes and the box, “______…” He trails off, which in itself tells you that he knew.

“Did you know when?” You asked, the tears finally drying up, all feeling sucked out of you. You couldn’t even muster up enough emotion at this moment to continue crying, you were drained.

“Your birthday.”

“Birthday? Interesting.” You chuckled to yourself, letting your mind wander to what it would have been like. Your eyes stay latched on the box in your hands. 

“He loved you so much ______,” Ashton kneels to be eye level with you, “He always said you were the only one for him. How he wanted a life with you.”

You looked up at his words, never knowing that Calum spoke of you in such a way, “I didn’t know he told you those things…” You trailed off.

“I heard it all the time,” Ashton reaches up and brushes the single stray tear away, “How a life with you was all that he looked forward to, how he had such big plans for you two.”

“I would have given anything for that life with him.” You whisper.

“I know,” Ashton sighs, “Maybe you should call it a day.” He stands up. You take a moment to gain a little more composure, not wanting to break down again completely in front of everyone. There was enough of that at the hospital and the funeral. You didn’t think it would be very helpful to anyone if you broke down and caused others to break down.

“Can I take this?” You ask Ashton as you stand up. You guys stand facing each other.

“I think you should.” Ashton nods, “He wanted to give it to you but either way you should have it.”

You don’t know what comes over you but the next thing you know, you throw yourself into Ashton’s arms, “Thank you.” You two stand pressed together for a moment before you pull back.

“Of course,” He flashes a sad grin, “Maybe you should call it a day, you can come help again tomorrow. I can tell everyone you left.”

You open your mouth to protest but instead you agree, “You’re right. I bet Duke misses me at home so I should probably go.” You smiled softly.

“Of course,” Ashton’s grin seems more genuine than any smile you've seen from him recently, “Give him an extra treat from me.”

You nod before moving past him, tucking the ring box into your sweatshirt pocket. You see the picture from the frame resting on the bed and also tuck it into your pocket. You went down the hall, looking carefully at all the pictures on the wall. Your pictures from Europe, the one of him that you took and he framed because he said it was the best photo of him ever taken, that no photographer could ever compare. You smiled at the pictures of you two together on the walls, the pictures you took of Calum and Duke, and all the pictures of the guys, goofing off. You sighed before heading down the stairs thinking of the mornings you spent chasing Calum through the house or late nights coming up the stairs to see him. You luckily didn't pass anyone as you slipped out the front door. You went running down the driveway so eager to get to your car. You’ve never wanted to leave Calum’s home more than you did right now. You hop into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind you. Instead of pulling your keys from your pocket, you pull out the jewelry box and picture.

You open the jewelry box slowly, “You always knew exactly what I wanted,” You whispered as you slipped the ring onto your finger, “You always knew me so well.” You turned to the picture, stroking the curve of his face tenderly. 

Now you were still grasping at the fact that you had nothing but the pictures and the memories to remember him. Your fairytale ending wasn’t what you expected. You didn't get your prince charming sweeping you off your feet and running away with you. You couldn't help but think not all fairytales can have a happy ending, so maybe this wasn’t one of those happy fairytale moments. Calum would always be your prince charming though, even without the happily ever after. 

[multifandomwriter56]

Getting Her Way

A/N: Don’t have much to say except I hope ya’ll enjoy this. Oh, and also I’ve decided I suck at titles. So there’s that. 

Summary: Y/n finds her own way to become a Peaky Blinder and Tommy believes it’s his duty to teach his sister right from wrong; even if he doesn’t learn himself.

Characters: Tommy Shelby, Arthur Shelby, Shelby!Reader (8 years old)

Warnings: language

Word Count: 1,562

"By order of the Peaky fucking Blinders!" Y/n yells as she grabs a fistful of the back of her cap and swings it at the kid. She smacks him with it a few times, ignoring the person calling her name. 

“Y/n Shelby!” Tommy shouts as his hands grip around his sister’s waist and forces her to turn towards him. “What the fuck are you doing?”

The eight year old doesn’t even flinch at his stern tone. “We’re playing Peaky Blinders, Tommy.”

Tommy slowly looks behind his sister, afraid to find a bloody-faced boy who will now be blind for the rest of his life; but to his surprised, there’s not even a start of a bruise forming on the boy’s face. He looks back at the young girl. “Where did you the cap, eh?”

This time, the girl shuffles her feet and bites her lip at his stern tone. “I stole it.”

“From who?”

She looks at her shuffling feet before answering her brother. “Arthur.” She lifts her head, looking at her brother straight in the eye. “But he hasn’t worn it in weeks. I made sure it wasn’t one of his favorites.” 

Tommy suppresses a groan when she folds her arms over her chest; a clear sign she’s about to throw a tantrum. So with the hope to avoid that; he focuses his attention on the other eight year old. “You alright, son?”

“I’m fine, Mr Shelby.”

“You go on home, eh? Y/n will see you at school tomorrow.”

“But Tommy! We were playing!” Y/n whines; ignoring her brother’s warning look and stomps her foot. 

“Go on, son.” Tommy smiles at the young boy who’s glancing between the two siblings before running off towards his home. 

He focuses back on his sister, but before he can say anything, she beats him to it.

“Why can’t I have my own cap? Finn gets one.”

“You never asked me for one.” Tommy points out.

Y/n falters at her brother’s words. She didn’t think about that. “Why were you late picking me up from school?”

Tommy doesn’t even try to hold in his chuckle. “Nice try, my little devil; but we are not done discussing this.” He holds out a hand for her to take. “You’re going to apologize to Arthur for stealing his cap.”

“But he didn’t even noticed it was gone.” She whines, taking a hold of his hand. 

“No whining.” He chides softly. 

The two siblings walk; a comfortable silence settling over them as they make their way through the streets of Small Heath. 

Tommy stops at the entrance to the Garrison. “You’re going to tell Arthur what you did and then I’ll take you home, eh?”

“Yes, Tommy.” Y/n was not looking forward to telling her eldest brother what she did. Arthur believes the youngest Shelby can do no wrong and she would like to keep it that way. 

Tommy barely contains his amusement at his sister’s mood. He knows exactly what she’s thinking. He also knows Arthur’s going defend the little brat and make him be the bad guy. 

“Arthur, you have a visitor!” He calls as the two enter the pub. 

The eldest Shelby sticks his head outside the small office in the back and smiles at the sight before him. “Y/n!” He raises his arms in the air as he makes his over to them. “My favorite eight year old, what are you doing visiting your big brother?” 

Y/n giggles as Arthur pulls her into a bear hug and squeezes her tightly. “Arthur, you squeezing too hard.” She tells him in between giggles.

He lets her go. “My apologizes. Now-” He pulls out a chair and sits in it, patting his knee as an invitation. 

Y/n immediately crawls into his lap; shifting until she’s comfortable. She leans her head against his chest with a smile on her face. But when she looks at the brother that still standing; the smile falls. “I have something to tell you, Arthur.”

“Oi, and what would that be.”

She looks at Tommy with one last pleading look before looking back at Arthur. “I made a new game. It’s called Peaky Blinders. Me and Danny were playing it when someone wass late picking their sister up from-”

“Y/n.” Tommy growls in warning.

Arthur looks up at his brother and then back at his sister who exhales a huff of annoyance; wondering what’s going on between his two siblings. “That sounds like a fun game, Y/N/N. How do you play?”

“Bloody hell.” Tommy mutters as Y/n explains how the game works. 

“And I grab my cap and started smacking him like you, Tommy, and John do when someone doesn’t listen.”

“Like you are now.” The standing brother interrupts. He pulls the cap out of his coat pocket places it in her lap. “Tell Arthur where you-”

“Hey, that’s my cap.” Arthur announces as he picks up the mentioned item. 

“I took it from your stash. I never saw you wear it, so I didn’t think you liked it and I wanted one.”

“Just because you like something, doesn’t mean you can just take it.” Tommy chides. 

Y/n glares at Tommy before looking up at Arthur,hoping he will come to her defense. 

“Tommy’s right, you can’t just take other people’s belongings.” Arthur doesn’t really care that Y/n took his cap; but he understands where his brother is coming from. Y/n’s too young to understand the difference between stealing as a thief and stealing because of who they are as the Peaky Blinders. It’s best just to teach her stealing is bad until she is older and more involved in the business. 

But even though he’s siding with his brother; he’s not going to deny his baby sister’s wants. So he plops the cap on her head, smiling when she does. “It’s yours; looks better on you than me anyways.”

Y/n smiles smugly at Tommy who is glaring at Arthur.

When he notices the smug smile, he points a warning finger at her. “You’re still in trouble.” He nods his head in slight triumph when that wipes the smile right off her face.

“Aw, come on Tom. She didn’t do anything that bad. It’s just a cap; and besides, she took the one she knew I wouldn’t miss. I never even knew it was fucking missing until now.”

“And it’s mine now anyways, so technically I didn’t steal it.”

Oh, now the little devil’s pushing it. 

“Exactly. So no need for the glaring daggers.” Arthur says, gesturing towards Tommy’s narrowed eyes.

Tommy debated on whether or not to fight them over a stolen cap. He decides against it; turning on his heel and heading for the doors.

Y/n and Arthur share a triumphant smirk and high five.

“Y/n, let’s go.”

The eight year old hugs her brother and kisses his cheek; whispering a quick, “thank you” before following after Tommy. 

As the two begin their walk home, Y/n can feel the tension radiating off the gang leader. Biting her lip, she speeds up just enough so she can stop in front of Tommy, forcing him to stop.

“I’m sorry I stole, Tommy.”

The man scoffs. Now’s she rubbing it in his face. 

“Really, Tom. I am. i won’t do it again. I’ll try and ask you first when I want something.” 

Tommy’s head cocks to the side as his eyes scan his sister’s face. “You’re being sincere.” When Y/n nods her head, he bends forward, resting his hands on his knees. “How do you go from being the world’s biggest brat to being the sweetest angel in all of Small Heath, eh?”

Y/n clasps her hands behind her, swaying from side to side; a smile smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “It’s a gift.”

Tommy chuckles, pulling her into his arms as he straightens to his full height. He continues the walk towards home.

“Where did this Peaky Blinders game come from anyways?” He asks her after a few minutes of silence.

“Since I’m not allowed to be involved with the real thing; I decided to make my own game so I can be like you.”

“You want to be like me? What about Arthur?”

“Him too. That’s why I always yell ‘by order of the Peaky fucking Blinders’ when I’m about to beat someone up; just like Arthur.” She tells him proudly.

Tommy shakes his head fondly. “Polly’s going to kill us all if she ever hears about this game.”

Y/n giggles but sobers when she thinks about their aunt’s reaction. “We can’t tell her, Tommy.”

“That’s the plan, little sister.” Tommy agrees as he sets her on her feet and opens the door to number six Watery Lane. 

“Oi! Thomas, is that you? What’s this game Y/n’s been playing at school where she fucking pretends to cut people?”

The two siblings freeze at the doorway.

Y/n looks up at him. “It’s been a while since I’v visited Curly and Uncle Charlie.”

Tommy nods his head, trying his hardest to not actually show his fear from their aunt’s tone. “I need to check on my horse before the upcoming race.”

They quickly make their exit as the click of Polly’s heels become louder by the second.

Forevers: @beautycinders​ @desiredposion​ @ravenoussss​ @simonsbluee​

Peaky Blinders: @cai-neki​

[bluefirewrites]

T.Rex, Velveeta, and Other Fun Names

A one shot I made, thanks to @lydias--stiles and @blush-and-books. 

We were talking about what Luke’s middle name could be and it sparked an idea for this quick little one shot (which is neither quick or little actually.)

Could also be read on AO3. 

ENJOY!

____________

Lucas T. Patterson

The madness of this week all started when Julie thumbed through Luke’s journal and found her songwriting partner’s messy scrawl inscribed in the behind the front cover.

Yeah, it was his name, Julie would have griped about how illegible it was and moved on to whatever song she and Luke had been workshopping the day before and thought nothing of it-

If it weren’t for the fact that there was a flurry of deep inset scratches of pen scribbling out the space where his middle name was supposed to be, leaving only the ‘T’ unscathed…

“So I was thinking, maybe we change the key. I thought I was feeling A Major,” Luke rattled off, playing the aforementioned series of chords on his electric, “But now, I think we could really intensify it by flipping to a minor key-”

“What’s the 'T' stand for?”

The ghost looked up, confused, “Huh?”

Julie held up the inner cover of the journal, pointing to his name, “Lucas T. Patterson. The ‘T’- what does it stand for?”

It was a simple question, but all color drained from his face.

“O-Oh. Oh that?” Luke stammered through, struggling to rid himself of his guitar, the skull and rose strap kept swatting his face in his hurry.

She nodded.

He was across the room in seconds, back facing her, pretending to fiddle with the amp settings, even going as far as inspecting Alex’s drums. Thank goodness the drummer wasn’t there right now or else he would be getting a thorough lecture. ("Tell him to stop touching my drums!" extended to his bandmates as well).

“It, uh, stands for my middle name,” he said, still not looking at her.

“I get that. So what is it?”

“It’s nothing,”

Julie rose from the piano bench, traversing the studio until she was right behind him. She forced him to pivot and face her, “No, it’s clearly something.”

Luke gave a dismissive wave and a weak nonchalant laugh, “It’s not a big deal,”

“It clearly is if you won’t tell me,”

Then his head cocked to the side. He cupped his ear, “Uh, what’s that? I think I heard Carlos!”

“What?” She couldn’t hear anything.

“Oh, you need help, Carlos? On my way!”

“He can’t even-”

In a flash of light and warp of reality, Julie was alone in the studio.

“- hear you...”

Oh boy.

Now what was that about?

________________

Ever since then, Julie’s curiosity only grew. Why was Luke so evasive when it came to his middle name? What could possibly be the reason?

With all the secrecy and going great lengths to omit it from his journal, she was betting on it being insanely embarrassing.

Which made Julie want to find out even more.

Luke didn’t get embarrassed so easily, not much to weaponize against him whenever they all made playful jabs at each other from time to time, like the friends they were. Really it was stuff like ‘Beware, Luke this shirt has sleeves’ which basically translated to ‘Haha, you’re attractive’.

Which did not pack quite the punch.

She was determined to decode Luke’s middle name, if not to quench her curiosity then to humble the guy.

He couldn’t be attractive and talented. Something’s gotta give.

(And no, she didn’t often think about how attractive and talented he was… Nope. Not at all).

“Tristan?” she threw out while they were backstage at their next gig.

Luke tuned his guitar, “Nope”

“Thomas?”

“Nuh-uh”

“Terrence?”

He finally looked up, smirking, “You will never find out.”

The tech burst in, phasing through the ghostly forms of the boys, to lead her out onto the stage.

She inwardly cursed. Saved by the bell.

“Break a leg, boss,” Luke wiggled his fingers at her before she was practically pushed past the curtain.

Even when she sat down to play the piano, Julie could not get the image of Luke’s smug face out of her mind. Oh, he probably thought her attempts were just so cute.

Yeah, cute for now.

But she wasn’t done yet.

____________________

“Alright, guys. Help me solve the mystery. What’s Luke’s middle name?”

It was one of those rare occasions where Luke was out of the house, leaving her, Alex, and Reggie alone.

The boys had been present for her previous tries to weasel Luke’s middle name out of him, and they were amused for the most part- Well, never as amused as Luke ‘Thinks He’s All That’ Patterson (not a serious contender in her guessing, by the way).

With their reactions, and however many years of brotherhood shared among the three of them, Alex and Reggie just had to know.

They were all chilling in the kitchen, Reggie perched on top of the counter and Alex lounging at the table. Julie poured herself a juice, waiting on the answer.

The bassist straightened up, “Oh. It’s-” Then he stopped, face scrunched up in a frown of concentration.

Julie directed her gaze at Alex, who was ready to jump in.

“No, wait it’s…” He faltered.

The two boys’s heads snapped to stare at each other as they pieced it together.

“Dude, I don’t think-”

“No. He had to have. I’m just blanking,”

“Guys?”

“Oh my god,” Alex uttered, pushing his golden locks back into his cap, “It took us this long to notice?!”

They were now on their feet, sandwiching Julie.

“We... don’t...know,” Reggie winced, admitting it out loud.

“How could you not know?”

“I don’t think he ever told us!” was the bassist’s defense, “He’s Fort Luke when he wants to be!”

He made the gesture of locking his lips and throwing away the key to which Alex nodded.

“Now I wanna know!”

“Me too!”

Now this was a development. If Luke’s boys had no clue, then it must be really juicy.

Taking a sip from her cup, Julie was all ready to recruit two new members for the noble cause…

_________________

Julie, Alex, and Reggie huddled in a circle at the studio, all bearing notebooks and furiously whispering at each other and scribbling away when Luke decided to make an appearance.

They dispersed, making their collusion all the more suspicious.

“Luke,” They all greeted, with the same level of enthusiasm… at the same time.  

The guitarist eyed them skeptically. Then he took in the notebooks, “You’re having a band meeting. Without me?” he asked, hurt flashed in his hazel eyes.

“No, silly. We’re having a band meeting about you,”

“Reggie!” Alex and Julie hissed.

That only added to Luke’s hurt and confusion.  

Sending him a reassuring smile, she guided him to an empty chair, placed right in the middle, just beyond the coffee table, “Sit down. Please.”

“Okay?” Slow steps and weird stares later, his butt plopped onto the seat, “Can someone tell me what’s all this abo-?”

“Lucas Theodore Patterson?” Alex leapt in front of Luke, reading his guess off his notebook.

Luke’s shoulders slumped, seeing where this was all going.

“Guys, really? You too-?”

“Is it or is it not Theodore?” Julie backed Alex up.

“God no,”

Reggie was up next, “Lucas Timothy Patterson?”

The nose scrunch answered for them.

“Lucas Tyrone Patterson?” as was Julie’s turn.

“No flow,”

And so they were stuck in a circle for the next 20 minutes, everyone taking turns guessing Luke’s middle name, their lists growing more desperate and random as they continued, even going as far as borderline yelling the names at him- that was how frustrated they were.

“Lucas Troy Patterson,”

“No”

“Lucas Trixie Patterson?!”

“That’s not even- that’s not even a guys name-”

“It’s Tyrannosaurus Rex. I’m telling you. It has to be!” Reggie slammed his notebook down, poking Luke hard in the chest with his index finger,  “Admit it! LUCAS. T. REX PATTERSON!”

“Boy, I wish,”

Their guessing game, once the last of the names have been recited, left all of them breathless (even though two of them were ghosts!).

On any other occasion, Luke would have been sympathetic, especially seeing how broken up and defeated they all looked collapsed onto the couch, glaring at him like he was the enemy.

But their fruitless attempts only made him all the more victorious.

“Nice try guys,” he patted each of them on the shoulder before heading out.

Best to give them a break.

Ya know, to deal with the defeat.

____________________

She was nothing if not persistent.

But Julie knew she might have been taking things too far when she had made the trip to Emily’s.

Look, she thought she could just pay the woman a visit, to check up on her, catch up-

Maybe ask leading questions in order to trick her into telling her her son’s middle name?

Yeah, the plan was flawed from the start because how could she so subtly direct the conversation to her dead son’s middle name.

Maybe get her to tell a story about Luke getting in big enough trouble that would have warranted the whole ‘yelling-out-your-full-name’ treatment? Which was a total stretch.

But she didn’t expect it to be the complete and utter disaster that it was.

If Alex and Reggie hadn’t gotten impatient and started snooping around Luke’s old room and digging through his things to find some sort of sign for his name, and if Luke hadn’t decided to intervene, creating all kinds of ruckus in other rooms for his mom to stop and check-

Then maybe they wouldn’t all be sitting on the Molina living room couch hours, getting read the riot act by Luke Patterson of all people.

“I had to tip over my aunt’s vase!!”

“Well, if it's any consolation, your mom always hated that vase?” Reggie chuckled before being promptly silenced by one look from Luke.

Alex spluttered, “But, like, you didn’t have to break it??”

“I did what I had to do,”

“Your mom was so freaked out!”

“Well, that’s on you guys,”

Julie just about had enough with all these games, she pushed herself up from the couch, squaring up against Luke’s unwavering gaze, “You’re being ridiculous!”

“Me?” he yelled, taken aback, “ You went to my house!”

“We just wanted to know!”

“Oh my god!” His hands gripped at his hair, “Why do you wanna know my middle name so badly?”

“I like knowing stuff about you, okay!”

Luke stepped back. Eyes wide.

That-

That wasn’t meant to come out.

Especially in the booming, shrill tone she used.

“Oh…”

Luke was playing with the sleeves of his oversized flannel, the air between them thick and brimming with awkwardness. It didn’t help that Alex and Reggie took this as the opportunity to flee.

Now it was just the two of them in the living room.

Breathing deeply to collect herself because it finally hit her- they were in a screaming match all because of a middle name . Like, Luke wasn’t the only one being ridiculous. It was her too. This whole quest to figure out what the T in his name stood for was so pointless.

They were fighting and Julie didn’t like it.

“And,” she cleared her throat, dislodging the unpleasantness, “there’s something clearly bothering you about it. Just… maybe thought I could help?”

Julie had been kidding herself. Messing with Luke might have been her initial goal, but what bugged her most about not knowing his middle name was the fact that even after all the time they spent together, there were things that Luke still wouldn’t tell her.

He was entitled to keep his secrets, yes, and she still felt bad for spying on him on his birthday. But, they were bandmates, writing partners, friends . She had confided in him a lot and he with her, and they just…

They always had this closeness. A closeness that she appreciated and didn’t take for granted.

And she had acted so recklessly because of it.

Luke nodded, taking it in. He didn’t look mad, but he understood. Julie could tell he was able to get more from her than the words she spouted at him.

“It’s, just,” his voice lowered into a self-conscious whisper, “It’s just something I don’t like a lot of people knowing...”

“I’m sorry. I pushed,”

“It’s okay,” the left corner of his mouth twitched, “You wouldn’t be Julie, if you didn’t” he playfully punched her shoulder.

She gaped at him in mock offense, “Hey!”

“Just saying. Tt’s not the first time you showed up on my doorstep, digging up my past,” she instinctively grimaced but Luke reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, “But I know it’s coming from a good place. Thanks.”

He really shouldn’t be so forgiving, Julie thought. But she was just happy that they could just leave this mess behind them.  

“I’ll get the guys to drop it,” she offered.

That made Luke laugh, “Good luck with that. Reggie’s wearing Alex down. Now he’s seriously considering my middle name to be ‘Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’,”

“If it was that embarrassing, I’d see why you’d keep it a secret,”

It seemed like Luke wanted to say something but shook his head and thought better of it. Instead he tugged her by the hand to the door, “Come on. You never did give me your opinion on the key change…”

_______________

It was months later when it finally came out. 

They were in her room. She was doing homework and he was getting a jump start on their newest song, working side by side on the floor.

Her laptop was open, some randomly chosen Spotify playlist streaming in the background. All was well when the familiar chords of ‘Get Lost’ started playing, causing Luke to visibly tense up.

“Trevor,”

“Right. Sorry, I’ll turn it off-”

“No. That’s…” He sighed and moved into a kneeling position.

Pushing his already opened journal to Julie, Luke flipped it to the cover, where his name was written.

He pointed to the scribbles over his middle name.

Where only the T was exposed…

Trevor.

“Lucas...Trevor...Patterson?”  

“My full name. Ba-da?” his jazz hands fell flat, betrayed by the quiver in his voice.

“Oh,”

“I, uh, never liked how it sounded. And you know how I feel… about things that just don’t flow right”

Julie did. For sure. Scrapped lyrics and melodies were often what happened. Never to be brought up again.

He continued, “My mom would insist on writing out my full name on my notebooks for school- Luke Patterson is already so generic,” and the first genuine chuckle of the night huffed out, “Never used them for class of course. Just to write songs.”

“Tre-Bobby,” she corrected herself “He would have needed proof that he wrote everything...”

“My old notebook. That had ‘Get Lost’ and ‘Crooked Teeth’. Made the mistake of writing it in pencil. It’d be so easy to just-”

Slamming the laptop closed, silencing the song, Julie enveloped the ghost in a hug. He melted against her, hands gripping onto her shoulders from behind, for dear life, the weight of the reveal finally taking its toll.

“I didn’t like my middle name before. Now, I just- I just can’t stand it,” he whispered into her shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Luke”

“Were the songs not enough? He had to steal my name too?”

The ache carried by his voice made Julie squeeze tighter.

She had no words.

What Bobby did, what he took from Luke, was more than she could ever fathom. She didn’t know what to do, what to say to him to soothe the pain.

She only held him.

For as long as he needed.

___________

"How come Alex and Reggie never found out?" she would ask him later.

"Didn't make it habit to show off my journal"

She frowned, "But you let me read it."

Luke, too, had no words in response.

____________

“Hey, wanna go on a walk with me?” Julie asked him out of the blue one evening.

Luke could definitely use a break, especially from whatever row Alex and Reggie had just gotten into. He nodded and took her offered hand.

They took a stroll down her street, hands still joined but hidden in Julie’s hoodie pocket (as to not make it seem like she was grasping at air). The sun was beginning to set over the hills as they could see from their vantage point in the park, their set destination.

Julie seemed to have some purpose for this random walk because she was leading him around until they reached a tree in a more secluded part of the grounds.

Whipping out a pocket knife, Julie replaced her hand in her grasp with the odd tool.

“What’s this?”

“For a while, I lost all sense of what music meant to me. I thought music was my mom. That if she’s gone then there’s no point in going on,”

“Aw, Jules”

Her sunny disposition shone through in a smile, “It’s okay. I had to redefine music for myself. Give it new meaning. Music is not just my mom. It’s my family and Flynn. It’s you and the guys” she shrugged, “It’s me.”

“I would have told you that,” A tender touch to her forearm coaxed an even bigger smile from the girl, “You definitely are music.”

Momentarily distracted by the compliment, it took a moment for Julie to get back on track.

“What I’m trying to say is. I think it’s time for you to redefine yourself. There’s stuff in your old life that you miss, but there’s also stuff you want to leave in the past…”

It dawned on Luke what Julie was referring to.

“That ‘T’ is a placeholder. You could go by a different middle name. You could do whatever you want. You’re a ghost now. You can… move on. So,” she revealed the blade and placed it in his palm once more. She nodded at the tree.

“Go ahead. Go give your name a new meaning, Make your mark,”

Grinning, Luke picked up on her plan and began carving into the trunk, his initials, all three letters representing his name, with each mark easier to craft than the last, imbuing more love and meaning into them, just like what Julie said.

Once done, he admired his handiwork, floored by how cathartic it was, to have his name on something that was gonna last.

L.T.P

He was taking back his goddamn name.

He beheld it with pride.  

“I’ll ask again,” Julie leaned against the tree, tracing the letters with her fingers, “What’s the 'T' stand for?”

With no hesitation he said-

“Thundercat,”

“W-What?” Julie choked.

He lost it at her reaction, “You said whatever I want. I loved that show as a kid!” he giggled.  

“Lucas… Thundercat… Patterson,” Julie so badly wanted to make a comment, Luke could tell. But she changed her mind, “You know what? If it makes you so happy then go for it. Who am I to stop you?”

“Nah, I’ll think of something else later on. But it’s my afterlife. I could go through as many middle names as I want, right?”

“Exactly,”

Luke returned her knife and thought she was going to slip it back into her pocket. Instead, she strode up to the tree and proceeded to carve her own initials right below his.

“There. So your name doesn’t have to be lonely up there,” she folded up the blade and put it away.  

“You know that, uh, couples usually do that kind of thing,” Luke couldn’t help but notice that, with the way their initials were oriented on the tree.

A rosy hue graced the girl’s cheeks, “Oh...yeah.”

A beat of silence followed, just the two of them staring at the tree.

“I like how our names look next to each other though,”

Luke nodded, a warm feeling settling in the pit of his stomach and rising, “Me too.”

Squinting, he read Julie’s initials, “ J.V.M. What does the ‘V’ stand for?”

A devious glint sparkled in her eyes,  “Maybe you’ll just have to guess.”

“Aw come on!”  

She raised an eyebrow, “Oh as if you made it easy for me?”

Ok. She had him there, “Fair enough.”

The whole walk home, Luke ran through all the ‘V’ names he could think of.

“Julianna Valeria?”

“Nope,”

“Julianna Vanessa?”

“C’mon, songwriter. Where’s the flow?” she teased.

Luke snapped his fingers, believing he cracked the code, “Victoria. After your aunt,”

“No. But imagine how mad she was when she found out,”

“Venus, Vanilla, Vaseline-”

“Vaseline?”

They were at her doorstep, and he bounded in front of her, blocking her path, “I won’t give up.”

“I don’t expect you to,”

“Velveeta. Like the cheese”

“It’s Valentina,” she finally said, pushing him aside, fishing through her pockets for the keys to open the front door.

“You got Valentina while I got stuck with Trevor?” She lucked out in the middle name department, that was for sure. 

Of course someone like Julie got shacked up with a beautiful name like Valentina…

“I could change mine too. In solidarity,” she said offhandedly.

“If I go with Reggie’s suggestion: Tyrannosaurus Rex then would you be Velociraptor?”

“T.Rex and Velociraptor?” she laughed in disbelief, finally walking through the threshold of her house. Thank goodness everyone else was already upstairs.

“From this day forth, I will be known Lucas Tyrannosaurus Rex Patterson!” he confidently declared

“And I’ll be Julianna Velociraptor Molina!” she repeated, taking much pleasure in the absurdity of it.

“Were you a dinosaur kid?”

“You saw my slippers and my PJs...”

“True,”

_______

Luke didn’t expect for them to take the whole new middle name thing so seriously.

But if they so happened to greet each other next time with prehistoric roars and with him tackling her onto the studio couch and pretending to bite her like the carnivore he was, then that was for them to know…

And for Alex and Reggie to remain confused about.

__________

Bonus:

And after some years down the line and one magical reincarnation later, Luke decided to change his name again.

“Patterson’s okay,” he said to Julie, “But I think I need something new.”

“Oh yeah? What are you thinking?”

Luke went down on one knee, in front of the tree they marked up when they were teenagers, ring in hand.

“Molina sounds pretty good to me…”

[thewhitejournal]

”The Intern”

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

(not my gif)

hey all! so recently i’ve gotten into criminal minds and i may or may not have fallen in love with thomas gibson, so! i decided to write some fanfic about him. please let me know what you think, any feedback is great. like and share if you enjoyed, and let me know if i should continue this as a series! thanks a bunch!

content warnings: none

It was your first day shadowing under Penelope Garcia, a technical analyst at the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia. Your dad had some connections to the bureau and got you a special opportunity to see what a day, or rather, a week in the life of a technical analyst at the BAU consisted of.

Technical analyst, that’s been your dream job for what felt like forever; before you knew what the words meant, you knew you wanted to be able to do extensive research on awful people and help put a stop to their doings. Helping people was one of the things you felt you did best. So you were going to make a career out of it.

Stepping over your stacks of clothes and textbooks, you sized yourself up in your floor-length mirror. Your mom helped you pick out some new clothes, and you were wearing your favorite shirt you found while shopping. It was a navy button-up shirt, carefully pressed so there were no wrinkles. It fit your curves right in every way, and the navy complimented your skin tone perfectly. Your eyes travelled to your neckline; a chain with a simple charm hung around your neck, the metal shining in the sunlight coming in from the blinds.

Your fingers played with the charm, twirling it back and forth. It matched the pair of earrings you wore, a hand-me-down set of jewelry from someone in your family, probably your grandmother. You looked yourself in the eyes, admiring your simple makeup. Your hair fell in waves; you fooled with it a bit to make sure there wasn’t a hair astray. Your attention wandered back to your outfit. The black slacks had a piece of fuzz or two on them, and you picked them off, straightening them out. Your mom tried to convince you to wear a skirt, but you insisted pants were more practical. They are, of course.

The only part of your ensemble you might regret is the black pair of heels that were already hugging your feet in a bit of an uncomfortable manner. It was the comprise you made with your mom to not wear the skirt. You had to admit though, they complimented you well. Glancing at the clock on your wall, you saw it was almost time to leave. You grabbed your black blazer, pulling it on and releasing your hair from the neckline.

The keys laying on your table in your apartment jingled as you picked them up. You grabbed your purse and gave the place a once over, making sure you didn’t forget anything. You flicked the lights off, shutting and locking your door behind you, and headed towards the elevator.

Stepping in and pressing the button to the garage, you let out a shaky breath, suddenly realizing how nervous you were. You tried to breathe steady breaths and calm down, but it was hard. Your mind was racing. Would you be any good? Could you handle the cases? Would Penelope like you? What if nobody liked you?

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, pulling you from your thoughts. You could do this. Probably.

Your heels clicking echoed throughout the parking garage, followed by the sound of your car unlocking and beeping. Opening the door, you climbed in and sat your purse in the passenger seat, sighing heavily. You wish you had some sort of idea of what to expect for today, but it’s like you were walking into a room blindfolded. You slid the keys in the ignition and started the car, pulling it out of the garage and making the short drive to the BAU.

A playlist of your favorite songs spilled through the speakers and filled the air; you thought maybe the music would help you feel better, and it did. But that feeling of bliss ended quickly when you pulled into the parking lot. Turning the car off, you looked out your windshield at the daunting and intimidating building before you. Making one last check of your appearance in the review mirror, you grabbed your keys and your purse and made your way to the front door.

You told the front desk person what you were instructed to by Penelope, and he let you proceed to the elevator. You luckily ended up alone in the elevator, giving yourself some more time to mentally prepare. It dinged, signalling your arrival to the floor you were supposed to be on.

The directions from the elevator to Penelope’s office replayed in your head like a broken record, as to not forget your way there. You tried to keep your head held high, but it was hard to; a feeling washed over you, like every pair of eyes in the room was on you. Maybe that was just paranoia though. You were about to reach her office when an undoubtedly handsome and buff man stepped foot into your path as you passed him.

“I think I’d remember seeing your pretty face around here, got a pretty name to go with it?” He said coyly, raising his dark and thick eyebrows as he spoke, a smirk gracing his face that showed off his incredibly straight teeth.

You stuttered and tried to think of what to say to such a bold question, but Penelope peeked her head out of her office before you had the chance to conjure a sentence.

“Ah ah, Derek. That one’s mine. Leave her be.” She said, looking at you with a kind smile. She waved you over, and you slid past Derek.

“Nice meeting you, Derek.” You called over your shoulder as Penelope practically pulled you into her office. You heard him huff with defeat and say something else before she shut the door behind you.

“But I don’t get your name?” He practically yelled, arms rising and then falling in defeat. He shook his head and returned to what you assumed to be his desk. You and Penelope shared a laugh.

“Hi, honey! I hope sweet-cheeks out there didn’t give you too much trouble. It’s so nice to finally meet you! Your dad’s told me so much about you!” She said to you, extending her hand, the sound of bracelets jingling accompanying it. She was quite bubbly, it was clear to see. Her clothes and office space were colorful and bright; it’s not that it’s a bad thing, it’s just not what you expected to see inside an FBI agent’s office.

You shook her hand, returning the smile she gave you. “No, he didn’t. I was just taken by surprise is all. It’s nice to meet you too!” She took your purse from your hands and sat it on the table closest to the door, next to the purse you assumed to be hers. She gestured to an empty chair that was pushed into the table; it sat in front of a laptop, a setup that looked puny compared to hers. She had several monitors all over the wall and two separate computers set up.

“Your seat, madam.” You chuckled a bit, sitting down. Her personality made you feel more at ease immediately. Maybe she was always like this, or maybe she could tell you were tense. Either way, it helped you feel better, and you were already starting to like her.

“So what I usually do is sit in front of these screens all day and dig up the nasty stuff on the bad guys for our good guys. I’m talking sealed records, CCTV, bank accounts, you name it and I can find it.” Penelope was sat down in her own chair now, waving her hands around as she spoke. You sat silently, listening intently as she continued to tell you what her job consisted of. Suddenly, her door was swung open. A tall man in a suit with black hair and beautiful light brown eyes stood there, looking directly at Penelope. He was holding a file.

“Garcia, we have a case.” His left arm outstretched to hand her the file, letting you be able to notice his shiny watch and wedding band. It was almost like he didn’t even know you were there - at first. His eyes glanced over your way, then did a double-take, when you assumed he realized he didn’t know who you were.

“Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner. You must be the intern Penelope was telling me about.” His hand reached out to shake yours. You stood to your feet quickly and shook it. His grip was firm and his hands were huge. You tried not to make it obvious that you were intimidated by him, but you tried very hard to not let your gaze fall to the floor. Looking into his eyes gave you butterflies, which was odd. This man was a stranger to you and yet he seemed so familiar.

“Yeah, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you, sir, I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I’m really excited to be here.” You gave him a smile, and he returned the favor, a soft one gracing over his lips. Your hands seemed to be clasped together for a second or two too long, but neither of you seemed to be objected to it. He let his hand fall from yours, and he shoved them in his pocket.

“Well from what I hear from Garcia, we’re lucky to have you. Nice to meet you, (Y/N). And you can call me Hotch.” With that and one last smile to you both, he swiftly shut the door behind him. You sat back down and noticed Garcia giving you a weird look, a smirk on her face. You laughed nervously.

“What?” You asked her, her smile beaming at you.

“Nothing, he just never smiles like that. Especially not since Haley-, well his wife...” She trailed off. Your brows furrowed. If something had happened between him and his wife, why was he still wearing a wedding band?

“Is she-?”

“Dead? No. Staying at her parent’s house with their son? Yes. It’s taken a toll on him, but I haven’t seen him smile like that in forever. We’ll have to keep you around, you’re magic or something, kid. Hotch doesn’t smile for anyone.” Penelope turned to her computers and started typing away, getting ready to work the case you assumed. A blush crept up onto your cheeks. Something told you that you wouldn’t mind staying there a bit longer either.

[dailylogyn]

Logyn Meta: Loki & Sigyn’s relationship in the Marvel Comics

Photo Source (by Sexy-Salmon): https://lokisergi.tumblr.com/post/70164902295/siege-loki-problems-it-almost-looks-innocent

Other Logyn Meta’s: https://dailylogyn.tumblr.com/tagged/logyn-meta

Did you know Sigyn was in the Marvel Comics long ago? Did you know Loki had a wife? 

Oh...that’s probably because Marvel wanted you to forget their terrible writing mistakes concerning this great Norse Couple. 

Let’s dive into this exploration of history where the Marvel writers realized they fucked up on telling a perfectly good couples story, and in the process, setting off a spark of rebellion that caused some retconning and a group of fans to demand justice for both Loki & Sigyn -- not just as a couple, but as their own individual beings. 

#JusticeforSigyn #JusticeforLoki #JusticeforLogyn

Where it First Began (Meeting & Marriage of Lies):

In September of 1978, Thor #275 came out featuring the first appearance of Sigyn, Loki’s wife from Norse Mythology. She was introduced as a beautiful Asgardian Loki had randomly come across while looking into a crystal ball inside his castle, wanting to find some companionship to fill his loneliness. 

However, when Loki came with riches and jewels to offer her in exchange for her hand in marriage, Sigyn outright rejected him, stating she would never take someone as vile as him, even stating she was already engaged to an Asgardian Warrior part of Odin’s guard -- Theoric. 

Unable to accept this, Loki came up with a plan to have her fiancee killed during a mission, resulting in the Trickster taking on the disguise of Theoric in order to take Sigyn for his own. Despite having slightly suspicions of her lover being more romantic than before, Sigyn didn't notice that her lover wasn’t exactly who she thought he was.

Now comes the day of the wedding as Odin marries the happy couple. This was when Loki finally revealed his true self and what he had done. Odin tried to null the marriage, but it was against Asgardian law for even the High Father to do such a thing. Hence, Sigyn accepted her fate as Loki’s wife. This caused Odin to name her the Goddess of Fidelity. 

Where it’s Heading (Cargo of Incantation-Fetter’s Arms):

Loki being Loki, he did some shit that ended up with him being imprisoned in a tree by Odin, something that infuriated Sigyn, resulting in her trying to take control over Donald Blake to use over the All-Father as a way to free her husband from his punishment. However, it didn’t work out, resulting in a bunch of other crazy shit happening and putting Thor on their trail.

After Balder was killed, Loki was put on trials for his crimes and received yet another punishment that Sigyn had to protect him from -- having burden over the fact she was “the evil’s wife.” Just like the classic Norse tale, she holds a bowl over his head, shielding him from snake venom and leaving to empty it momentarily when it became full, resulting in Loki cursing her. 

Also, Loki and Sigyn had a child -- Narvi, but they died young, being used as the binding to imprison Loki (following the Norse myth too.) 

Some more crazy shit happens and now Odin has shackled Loki to Sigyn so he doesn’t cause anymore trouble. Loki of course is not pleased about this one bit. Having had enough of this, he went to Odin demanding to be released, only resulting in him being banished to an outpost. 

There Just Might be Hope????:

Some more shit happens again, resulting in Loki being stuck in an astral form and bound to a suit of armor so he could reside in Asgard thanks to Sigyn. A fight happens with Thor, Loki and Mephisto, putting Sigyn in danger. This is when for the first time ever, Loki ends up having a tender confession of love over Sigyn, asking Thor to save her since he could not.

It’s unknown if this is just Loki putting on an act or being real, but you know how the Trickster God can be. 

After the battle, while Loki had released Sigyn from her marital vows, his wife swore to always be there for him when he needed her.

And that’s the last we see of Sigyn’s regular appearance in the comics in 1996. She makes a cameo in Avengers: Unleashed #1 in 2019, but it’s nothing more than a flashback to her time of helping Loki. 

A Hypothesis & Notes on their relationship in comics:

The whole entire plotline consisting of Theoric and Loki killing him in order to obtain Sigyn is just something most of the fandom doesn’t like. Not only does it objectify Sigyn, but it makes Theoric a Pointless character to introduce anyway, only used as a tool for means in which Loki can get Sigyn, when honestly, he could have done so in a different way.

I like that they stick with Sigyn being the faithful wife of Loki (that’s who she is), but they honestly don’t give her any agency in this besides that trait alone. The writers don’t even let Sigyn be her own damn person! She is SO MUCH MORE than Loki’s loyal wife. SHE IS A FREAKIN GODDESS! I know there is more we can do with her.

Instead of pulling the ‘woe is me, my husband is evil and I’ll just go along with it’ card, something else could have been done. LIKE LITERALLY, ANYTHING ELSE! We know Loki can be a troublemaker, but Sigyn knows how to deal with his shit. She isn’t some damsel in distress here! It’s another reason Loki likes her.

Couples can bicker in times, it’s normal in marriages and relationships, but to have Loki whining about how much of a burden Sigyn is is just....WHY? I mean, you went after the woman and killed another guy for her. This is what you wanted! *shakes head at writers*

I will give them kudos though for some of the stuff near the end when Loki actually starts displaying his true feelings of love towards Sigyn. And sadly we only got a little taste of that...and we aren’t even sure if it was an act or Loki being real.

THE FACT THAT SIGYN ISN’T EVEN IN THE COMICS ANYMORE SINCE 1996. She’s only mentioned, but it’s just as a tale, not as an actual person who USED to be his wife. They literally killed her off. EXCUSE ME! #JusticeforSigyn (We’re still waiting for her in the MCU...)

NORSE MYTHOLOGY TIE-INS:

There were some moments in the comics between them that they writers took from Norse Mythology with them. Thought It’d be important to list.

Loki’s Punishment of snake venom dripping onto him while Sigyn holds a bowl to collect it and shield him.

Narvi being Loki & Sigyn’s son who was killed and his insides used to bind Loki for his punishment.

Sigyn being Loki’s wife. 

DIFFERENT WRITERS, DIFFERENT CHARACTERIZATION:

As is the case with everything out there, if you have different writers working on the same project, there is bound to be a difference of characterization and interpretation, resulting in OOC moments or just something completely different altogether. After researching and pondering on this subject, I FULLY believe this is what has happened with Loki & Sigyn’s relationship in the comics. Let’s take a look at the evidence I’ve found:

For the comics Sigyn’s creators were Roy Thomas, John Buscema and Tom Palmer. 

Loki’s creators for the comics were Stan Lee, Larry Lieber, Jack Kirby, Violet Barclay, and honestly, many others.  

My favorite quotes on them from the comics:

Wait? Despite the crappy writing, I actually have quotes I like from the comics? GASP! I call these the only positives from the comics of their relationship. 

“My Sigyn-- the love of my immortal life...” — Loki, Thor Annual Vol 1 #19

“Aye-- For only Sigyn, of all in the realm eternal, feels love for Loki. And among all Asgardians, only for Sigyn does Loki feel...” — Loki, Thor Annual #19

“Sigyn loves me-- just as she is the only thing in the nine worlds that I truly love.”— Loki, Thor #483

Photo Source: https://www.zerochan.net/1262293#full

Fandoms Wish for MCU & Future Appearance Justice:

Fans would like to see Sigyn make an appearance, not only in the MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe), but also the Marvel Comics once again. They would like to see Loki & Sigyn’s characters done justice with proper writing, especially regarding their relationship with each other. 

This is why there is plenty of fans out there writing Fanfiction, making Fanart, Roleplaying and even Cosplaying them, giving their interpretation’s of what their relationship would be like. This is THE VERY REASON this blog and @sigynappreciation​ was created to help spread awareness and unite fans who feel the same way. 

These characters are very near and dear to our hearts. Some of us even worship them in our religions. We would like to see their relationship grow and portrayed in a way that helps fill the pieces of the missing puzzle to how they came to be in Norse Mythology. 

CONCLUSION:

Although their relationship in the comics usually leaves fans grimacing, at least we got to have it explored. Who knows if Marvel will ever touch anything with them ever again, but at least it’s brought together a small community that continues to go strong -- and honestly, that kind of unity is what Loki & Sigyn would want. 

So imagine to your hearts content! Draw that fanart! Write those fanfictions! Dress up in that cosplay! Be those characters! But just remember, you have a family here to love and support you. 

SOURCES:

Sigyn’s info on Marvel Database: https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Sigyn_(Earth-616)

Loki’s info on Marvel Database: https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Loki_Laufeyson_(Earth-616)

Sigyn on Marvel Universe: http://www.marvunapp.com/Appendix/sigynthor.htm

Logyn on the Shipping Wiki: https://shipping.fandom.com/wiki/Logyn

Loki & Sigyn’s relationship through Media: https://www.alehorn.com/blogs/blog/norse-mythology-loki-and-sigyn