#my bookcases have been in disarray

[sag-dab-sar]

I finished all 4 bookcases! Removing all books, dusting books, dusting & wiping shelves, donating books I no longer want, and reorganizing them. It is so great to have them all properly done after 6 months of disarray.

I am going to do a "library" list. Aka writing down title and author of every book I have, since the last time I did that was like.... high school over 10 years ago.

As of right now, of what I physically own, my reading list cover to cover is: 53 books, 2 holy books, 12 comics, and 4 large-DK books. I'll know better once I've got my library list.

Have I been reading the same single book for multiple months..... yes; am I dyslexic which makes reading difficult, yes; is it hard to read physical books because I have to sit up and I rarely do that, yes. But the fact I'm even making progress on one book is an accomplishment.

(69 tasks on Room Project done, 24 to go)

[dior-luxury]

Can I please get some headcanon fluff of Riddle or Lilia with a gn reader who’s struggling to catch up on schoolwork due to anxiety? Thanks a bunch! X

-Cinderella

You Struggling With Schoolwork

( ✧ ) ────── boyfriend stories . angst/comfort - gn!reader .

- [𝐜𝐡.] riddle . lilia

- [𝐩:𝐬] Anxiety/Mental health struggles . Mentions of academic stress and burnout . Crying/Emotional distress . Discussion of perfectionism/Pressure to perform

Note: Sorry for the late posts this week guys... hope this makes up for it! ヽ(・∀・)ﾉ

Riddle Rosehearts

The sharp knock at your door is almost perfectly timed—precise, firm, and unmistakably Riddle’s.

“May I come in?” he calls gently, and the concern in his voice isn’t lost on you. You hesitate, glancing down at the pile of textbooks spread across your desk, your untouched assignments, and your trembling hands. You hadn’t responded to his messages all day, and that alone was enough to make him worry.

You manage a weak, “Yeah,” and the door creaks open.

Riddle steps inside, carrying a small tray with tea, a scone, and a crisp napkin folded just so. He places it on your desk without a word, his eyes taking in the disarray—open books with frantic notes, red-inked grades, your frayed expression.

“You’ve been hiding this from me.” His voice is soft, but there’s an undercurrent of emotion—hurt, but also immense care.

You try to speak, to explain how it’s not just the workload but the weight of trying to meet expectations—his, the professors’, even your own—and how every assignment feels like a mountain when your brain is caught in a storm.

But before the words can tumble out, Riddle crouches in front of you, gently taking your hands in his.

“I should have seen the signs,” he says, more to himself than to you. “The skipped meals, the messages getting shorter… I let myself think you were just busy. But you’re overwhelmed.”

Tears sting your eyes at his understanding, and his thumbs softly brush over your knuckles.

“I know how crushing the rules and expectations can be,” he continues. “I lived my life by them for so long, thinking perfection was the only path to being worthy.”

He meets your eyes then, and there’s a fierce protectiveness there.

“You don’t have to be perfect. Not for me. Not for anyone. If something feels too heavy, I will help you carry it. You are not alone in this.”

He insists on sitting with you for the rest of the evening—not to force you to study, but to gently organize your notes, help you build a realistic plan, and most of all, just be there. Between sips of tea and quiet affirmations, he reminds you over and over again:

“You are doing enough. You are enough.”

And somehow, with him by your side, the pressure eases. Just a little. But enough to breathe.

Lilia Vanrouge

You’re in the library long past sundown, curled up at one of the far corners where no one usually wanders. Your notes are scattered, pages stained with the occasional smudge from your tears. The shadows feel safer than facing how behind you’ve fallen. Anxiety clings like cobwebs—thin, invisible, suffocating.

“Now what do we have here?” comes a light, melodic voice that doesn’t match the gravity of your thoughts.

Lilia floats down from a high shelf—literally—having apparently spotted you while playfully stalking between bookcases. His boots make no sound as he lands, but his eyes—bright, ancient, knowing—lock onto your face with immediate concern.

“Oh, little one,” he murmurs, his teasing tone falling away.

You try to sit up, to hide the panic in your expression, but he’s already crouched beside you, his gloved hand reaching to tuck your hair gently behind your ear.

“I can smell the storm on you,” he says, and somehow it doesn’t sound strange. Not from Lilia. “All tangled thoughts and racing heartbeat.”

You finally break, sobbing softly into your arms. You didn’t want to burden him—you thought you could manage it on your own. But Lilia just holds you, humming a low lullaby in a language you don’t know but feel deep in your bones. Time seems to warp around him. There’s no pressure to speak, no expectation to explain.

After a long silence, he says, “You mortals put such pressure on yourselves. Deadlines, ranks, marks on parchment. But none of those things define you. You, my darling, are not a test score.”

You lift your head, blinking at him. “But I’m falling behind. Everyone else is—”

He puts a finger to your lips. “Shhh.” His smile returns, soft and mysterious. “Let me teach you a trick. I’ve lived long enough to know that life is not a race. It’s a dance. Some steps are fast, some are slow, and sometimes... you sit the song out and rest.”

Then he conjures up a little magic—a glowing, dancing orb that spins your study materials into neat stacks and gently highlights your upcoming assignments. “We’ll break it down together,” he promises. “A bit today, a bit tomorrow. And a whole lot of sweets in between.”

Lilia, despite his playful persona, becomes your anchor. He checks in with daily surprise visits, sneaking in enchanted snacks and encouraging notes hidden in your books. He doesn't coddle, but he doesn’t let you spiral, either. He believes in you with an ageless patience, never rushing your healing or growth.

“Even the strongest minds need rest,” he’ll say, kissing your temple. “And the kindest hearts, like yours, deserve a gentle pace.”

[eloquentcoconut]

☆ Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes ☆

Synopsis: Thorn thought they joined the board game club; not the boring games club. Featuring streaming Dress to Impress with Iida, Azul, and Ortho.

Word Count: 2,810

Notes: My first twst drabble part of a small series in my fanfic called ~ Intermission ~ The full collection can be found all together in 'TWST Upon A Time' on wattpad/ao3/quotev. This short was inspired by Caseoh and Sturniolo commentary.

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I let out a sigh as I glance around the board game room. Everyone else was getting fired up in their game play while I was left feeling drained playing twst’s version of Monopoly with two sinfully boring men. 

“Not that I’m not riveted to the spot playing ‘Proprietorship’ but can’t we play something more engaging… Doesn’t Twisted Wonderland have any video games?”

“Quiet! (I’m counting…)” Azul mumbled, eyes never leaving the board as he concentrated on strategizing his victory. 

“Don’t hurt yourself.” I eye rolled. 

Idia thumbed through his cards. “Just considering your best interests normie, since you know nothing of Twisted Wonderland’s games we gotta start on easy mode with parental controls.”

I side eyed Idia. “You two still owe me from that whole ghostly groom-napping. And I’ve decided I want to play a video game with you two.”

“What could I possibly OWE you? If anything YOU OWE ME for having to rescue you as well!” Azul quipped, head turning sharply in my direction. 

“Don’t start Azul! You failed! Became a Slapsville citizen, and I had to rescue YOU by the end!” I stood from my chair pointing at Azul.

Azul’s face grew flush from anger as he also rose from his seat. “I seem to recall a certain SOMEONE asking to reward their savior with a kiss?!” 

Sensing an oncoming argument from Azul and I, and not wanting to relive *that* Idia snapped. “Ok fine! Let’s go to my dorm room, I’ll teach you how to be a pro gamer!” 

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Idia’s room could best be categorized as ‘disorganized otaku’ - so the average otaku room experience. Posters lined the walls, and despite having an impressive hexagonal bookcase, topped with anime figurines and a Pain and Panic plushies, stray books littered the floor. Actually with so many clusters of half open boxes and cables, the floor was more like a mini labyrinth. There was a gigantic holographic-pod-chamber that looked like a prop straight from a sci-fi film that sat to the left of Idia’s desk. Maybe that was an elaborate 3D printer or a charging station for Ortho? Directly in front of his bookcase was his pc desk with at least four floating holographic monitors open, complete with *the* gamer chair. The chair, and keyboard were infused with rainbow led lights. His closet door and drawers were left open with clothes hastily shoved in. His bed matched the secondary theme of the room; dark blues, greys and blacks. The blankets and sheets were in disarray, and on the side that touched the wall was either a lamp or a tablet that had been clipped into the bed frame as a hands free device.   

Ortho, who had been milling about in the room, turned his head upon hearing our arrival. “Big brother! Thorn! Ashengrotto. Good job big brother on inviting friends over.” Ortho gave a thumbs up and winked. 

Idia made an indignant squeak and Azul just chuckled, pushing up his glasses. 

I smiled at Ortho. “Hi Ortho! I’m here to learn how to play video games, care to join?”

“(thank the great seven for Ortho… Less socializing for me!)” Idia muttered and thrifted through his room.

Ortho nodded. “Mmm! You came to the right person: my big brother is a certified gaming expert; there’s nothing you can’t learn with Gloomurai as your teacher.”

As Idia moved the monitors to face the side of his bed, Azul made a comment. “I’ve heard online streaming is becoming more popular - this could be a wonderful business opportunity for you Gloomurai.” 

“(Helping yourself, you mean…)” Idia glared at his ‘friend.’ 

“Let’s all commemorate your first time playing with other people physically by recording it, as a fun memory to look back on!” Ortho suggested. 

Idia sighed and gave his younger brother a wispy smile, “sure Ortho. (I’ll record alright, not clicking live though, no way I’m leaving a digital footprint with these two betas.)” 

“Oh! Senpai! I know I said I wanted to learn a Twisted Wonderland game but…” I started typing on Idia’s rainbow light up keyboard. “Ortho was telling me about how you’ve got an eye for fashion, and I thought,” with a right click of the mouse pad ‘Dress to Impress’ was loaded on the screen. “We could try playing this super trendy game where I’m from!”

“...Thorn who do you take us for? Isn’t this a kid's game?” Azul questioned, sitting down on the edge of the bed. 

“Ah! You would think so, but there’s strategizing to appeal to the judges who are also our competitors, underhanded tactics to ensure a clean sweep with a touch of luck. As much as it's about fashion, it gets cutthroat, petty, and biased. With us as a team, we’ll wipe the floor with these outmoded noobs!” I passionately explain. 

Azul crossed his arms, “hm, your egotistical tendencies are rubbing off on Thorn.” 

“Heh, it’s true I excel at coordinating outfits, maximizing their in-game properties while simultaneously keeping them ultramodern,” Idia cracked his knuckles, “I’ll show you how it's done. (Whoooa, I totally just delivered a badass cool guy protagonist line!!)” 

“I’ll generate some V-cam models so you can match with me, @ Cheerinja and @ Gloomurai!” Ortho said, eyes turning blue as he compiled a data spreadsheet and projected some models for @ Azzurrpod (Azul) and @ Alienprotag (Thorn) to choose from. 

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After the first round, everyone had become invested in obtaining a spot on the podium by any means necessary. Even after we realized Idia had accidentally hit live instead of record, we made the most of it and carried on. As the game play grew more intense, we huddled in closer on the bed, Azul scooting in closer off the edge next to Idia, I was on his other side and Ortho was next to me. Gloomurai’s viewership continued going up, with chat spamming messages and gifts, as we bickered amongst ourselves and them.

Our theme this round was ‘pirate’ it was Azul’s turn with the controller, and he ate I fear. Our character was practically a siren in sea captain’s gear. 

A smooth male computer generated voice read out a gift message from @ Shiiok.ing. “Captain Jack Spare-no-food.” [Donated 1 Madol]

Azul was not pleased and swiftly delivered a “moderators, expel that guy right now.”

The way in which Azul said it made me want to tease him, so I put on a silly voice and said “Mr. Electric, send this man to the principal's office and have him expelled immediately!” 

Idia and Ortho did nothing to silent their laughter. 

Before Azul could say anything, another message came in, from @ Whimsqueeze. “Azzurrpod, you’re built like my 83 y/o grandma.” [Donated 1 Madol]

“Unless your 83 year old grandma is 5’9 and ripped, no I’m not.” Azul wasn’t having any of it. 

@ Shiiok.ing added ““5’9 sideways.” [Donated 1 Madol]

“WHO TF SAID THAT?” Azul’s eyes instantly locked onto the usernames, he recognized these two jokers. He banned them from commenting for the rest of the stream.

As I hit them with pose #28, I half-heartedly tried to comfort Azul. “Man really spent 1 madol to type that out.” 

“Tch. Yeah.” Azul went back to focusing on the game.

During the next round, we were able to choose a theme, and every theme I recommended was shown no mercy. 

“No, absolutely not.”

“Yeah. Do better. Try harder.”

“According to my research, those themes aren’t popular. But good try!”

I was shot down so quick I just looked around at the group and deadpanned “so should I k*ll myself?”

Idia and Azul were caught off guard and laughed, Ortho however did not and asked me to never make that type of joke again. I agreed. 

Finally, the theme had been announced. A singular word was on screen. ‘Cat.’

“What clown put that in?” I asked, slightly ticked.

“That’s Idia’s theme.” Azul helpfully supplied.

“You guys gave me grief for ‘princess’ and ‘picnic’ but ‘cat’ is somehow better?!” I started. 

In the middle of our bickering, the automated voice read a gift message from @ Obnoxiou_thingg. “Kittens can you count down for me? I’m almost finished.” [Donated 50 Madol]

The room went quiet. While Azul and Idia had equally looks of shock and disgust. Ortho and I were lost. 

“There’s a timer on screen though? Can you not see it?” Ortho said this and double checked to make sure that the screen recording was still working. 

I added, “finished what? Using our gameplay as background noise to cook a cake or something? Just use a proper timer?” 

Chat spammed ‘r/whoosh’ as Idia and Azul looked at Ortho and I in a mix of relief and concern.  

Idia’s hair flickered red and using a deep voice changer he yelled “GET OFF OF THE CHANNEL!”

Ortho, Azul, and I laughed harder before going back to gameplay.

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Once our live ended, Ortho stepped out to take care of some other tasks while Azul and Idia eventually came to an agreement on which video game was the best Twisted Wonderland had to offer. 

Idia was recharging with some gamer fuel, cute mini candy makers and sugary drinks. 

“It's like playing a game irl.” He grinned, mixing the highly saturated liquid with the smallest spoon known to man. 

Once the glowing green gummy worms had set, Iida offered Azul and I some. Azul made a face at that. We brought our attention back to the monitor.   

‘Final Kingdom’ An open rpg that featured a wide roster of unique characters with a compelling ever-changing plot with high stakes, battles, gacha, otome moments, and based on the player’s strategic gameplay - offered almost no two gameplays alike. The visuals and music were nothing short of cinematic. In my opinion, it was reminiscent of Fire Emblem x Monster Hunter. Of course, for the grand experience, Idia took us all the way back to the prologue.

“Can you two extras stop pressing up against me?” Idia fidgeted in between Azul and I, the tips of his hair turning pink.

“Do you think anyone enjoys doing this? Invest in actual chairs and we wouldn't be in this predicament.” Azul berated, purposely pressing into Idia’s side more.

“(The calculated possibility for people visiting was less than 0.01%.)” Idia gripped.

“Four floating screens and only one that actually shows gameplay, cut us a break senpai." I said.  

“Ugh.” Idia dropped the matter and continued guiding me through the controls and in-game lore and explaining any cultural references. Sometimes Azul would butt in just to argue with Idia’s knowledge. Ortho wasn’t kidding when he said his brother was like a teacher, it was very easy to follow along.

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It was late into the night, and it felt like we had barely scratched the surface of gameplay.

Azul looked at his watch and said, “not that this isn’t invigorating, but I’ve got other business to take care of. So, if you’ll excuse me.”  

Azul attempted to leave when Idia shot back. “Heh, what’s the matter Azul? Malding ‘cause the noob is a better player than you?” 

“Past your wittle baby bedtime?” I smirked. 

Azul rolled his eyes. “Unlike you two I’ve got a lounge, clients-”

“Wah, wah, wah, give it a rest will ya baby?” I teased, despite feeling tired myself.

Idia added. “It's the first boss. But it's probably out of your expertise, of course you must have planned for this with your strategic exit.”

Azul snatched the controller and sat back down.

The first boss battle was beyond difficult. Even when Azul and I begrudgingly worked together, (read: hurled insults at one another) the monster remained undefeated. We wordlessly agreed and passed the controller to Idia.

As Idia played, I heard soft snores coming from Azul’s side. I glanced over and sure enough he was asleep. I looked up to Idia and he made no indication that he noticed. I yawned as I decided to rest my eyes. I’ll open them again whenever Idia eliminates the first boss. 

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“UHH?!” Was the noise Idia let out upon realizing he was trapped between his two sleeping board game buddies.

‘Whatdoidowhatdoidowhatdoidowhatdoidowhatdoido?’ Flashed in Idia’s malfunctioning brain. He attempted to wiggle his way out, moving backwards so the duo wouldn’t hit the floor, but he ended up falling backwards instead, causing the pair to lay on his chest.

A high-pitched whistle was let out as his hair turned a deep set rose color.

‘How do I keep finding myself in these overrun cliche anime tropes?! I’m just an introverted social outcast! This shouldn’t happen to guys like me! HSDJKGSCUHASOI.’ 

Thank and praise the Great Seven that Ortho had returned! Idia mouthed the words ‘save me brother.’

Ortho blinked and silently giggled and projected the message:

[Your socialization is leveling up. I’m proud of you big brother! I’m just here to return a book I borrowed. Good night!]

Idia resigned to his fate and passed out from embarrassment. 

Before Ortho left, he tucked the trio into bed and took a photo of Idia’s first sleepover. 

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The pair had subconsciously managed to use Idia as a mattress. The accidental cuddle pile was as follows: Azul’s head lay on Idia’s chest with his limbs outstretched, wrapped around Idia and Thorn - hugging them close. Thorn’s head rested slightly above Azul’s, while Idia felt comforted by the pressure and had both his arms rested on the backs of the prefects.

Idia and Azul were the first ones to wake up. Their eyes bugged out once conscious enough to take in the situation and frantically, yet silently, pulled away as to not disrupt Thorn. 

“(What are YOU doing? What were WE DOING?)” Azul whispered and shouted.

“(You two fell asleep and pinned me! I couldn’t move!)” Idia whined quietly.

I rolled over and rubbed my head into the ‘pillow’ in an attempt to relax. ‘Are Grim and the ghosts arguing again? Ugh I don’t care, I’m sleepy, can’t they argue away from a sleeping person?’

After Thorn let out a huff, the duo picked up where they stopped.

“(SO WAKE US UP??!)” Azul countered, fixing up his attire.

“(Azul I tried! I passed out from your normie germs.)” Idia informed, turning his head as far as he could away from Thorn’s. 

“Hmm? Azul’s here…?” I mumbled. Still not entirely awake.

“(WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING?)” Idia whispered shrieked, vibrating in fear as Azul took out his phone.

“(Isn’t it obvious? Collecting insurance.)” Azul’s glasses let off a shine as his camera shutter went *snap*.

With so much shaking from the bed, I swatted my hand back in an attempt to get ‘Grim’ to stop doing whatever it was he was doing. “Hemmy, Julie, Cassey… Go take care of your son… Before sunrise he’s yours.” 

“Wake up prefect.” Azul said, having sat on the other side of Thorn.

Idia mouthed the words ‘what did I ever do to you?! Abort! Stop!’

‘Prefect…?’ Looks like Azul let himself into my room, impatient octopus. I sat up and turned and realized I wasn’t in my room. Azul looked like the cat that just got the cream, and I looked down to see a scarlet Idia covering his face with both hands.

“...What are you two doing?” I asked slowly.  

“Heh. Looks like we both fell asleep in Idia’s bed. Good morning and goodbye to you both.” And like that Azul walked out.

I would have spoken more with Idia, but he was a babbling red swirling mess. “Sorry for falling asleep on you Idia, I’ll just go now.”

Idia frantically nodded; face still covered as I left. 

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“I can’t believe you let me sleep with the two prefects…” Idia rubbed his face tiredly. As it would turn out, passing out is not a form of well rested sleep, who knew?

Ortho tried to reassure his brother. “Think of it to a practice run, after all, the Ramshackle prefect, she-”

“(she?..)

She?

SHE?!

WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE?!” 

Idia’s hair shot up frantically as he stared in horror at his brother. 

“I misspoke.” Ortho looked off to the side. 

“IT'S LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE FOR YOU TO MAKE A MISTAKE! I PROGRAMED YOU!” Idia panicked. “HOLY GREAT SEVEN A GIRL HUNG OUT WITH ME (and was in my room?! dsjfbjsbdfis)” 

Idia threw himself under the covers as his only means of protection against such a twisted fate. 

Ortho frantically waved his arms around. “Shh! Brother it's a secret!”

“Rip Idia you won’t be missed.” Promptly Idia passed out. 

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[arkhamcalamity]

Memory Meme // ♣ - A fading memory

Memory meme // straight up always accepting @oculusxcaro my beloved i've missed u around chip

Amity's quick to let out a soft shhhhhh as the door creaks open. It's taken hours to get the now silent bundle in her arms to stop shrieking. How on earth did lungs so small make so much noise? What was she doing wrong? She had tried everything to make Beatrix more at ease. Changing her clothes, offering her milk, rubbing her back- nothing seemed to ease the screams. Air swirls and jets following her own frustration had put the house into disarray. Ezekiel was going to be irked at having to right the furniture. And my lack of self control. Dangerous. Reckless. She just was so tired. It made any battles with her gifts even more uphill.

This cycle was a nightmare. Fighting to get Beatrix to sleep only to suffer once she tried to join her. Waking up soaked in sweat with her heart racing. Afraid that her little daughter wasn't breathing once more, just as she hadn't been once fresh out in the world.

Amity's eyes flashed up, terrified and exhausted to Althea's sympathetic ones coming closer. The older midwife peeking in on the little babe, and gently brushing back Amity's hair behind her ear.

"You're doing alright," Althea whispered. "I know it doesn't seem it. Let me help."

In the softest whisper, Amity shook her head. "I'm frightened if I put her down she'll shriek once more. I am so tired, Thea."

The older midwife nodded and offered out her own arms. A heavenly reprieve that Amity was almost too anxious to take. Fearing the very movement of transferring her beloved daughter would wake her. Slowly, slowly, she nestled the sleeping love into Althea's experienced arms. The older healer softly humming and rocking. Stepping back, Amity eyed the bottle Thea had brought along and sat on one of the remaining bookcases. Carefully picking up the small brown thing to read the handwritten note on it. A syrup for her to take, okay. Anything was worth trying at this point if it meant actual rest.

"Wake me if needed. If thoust needs to go."

[sagemonsters]

@that-dnd-life has a blind date with...

Honey the Werebear

Honey is a paunchy transmasc werebear who has curly hair that is constantly in disarray, a booming laugh, a chipped front tooth, and kind eyes. He dresses in comfortable clothes and always smells like cinnamon.

Honey is a warmly gregarious person by nature and collects friends the way other people collect Pokémon cards. He cherishes every single friend he makes, but you’re especially dear to him and he seeks you out above other friends. He texts you “good morning” every day and makes an effort to respond to all of your texts. He cares about the mundane happenings in your life and would never call you boring.

Honey loves to cook and bake—it’s how he got his name! He’s particularly fond of complex desserts, and often asks for your opinion on what recipe he should try out next. He’s working on writing a cookbook, and will test recipes over and over before presenting them to you for “the final seal of approval.” He truly values your input in his creative process.

Although he has an entire bookcase filled with cookbooks and culinary history nonfiction, Honey doesn’t read much outside of his comfort zone. Instead, he asks you what book you’re reading and lives vicariously through your descriptions and clear enjoyment of the stories you’re imbibing. He likes listening to people talk about things they care about.

Honey loves to make you laugh, and will do silly voices to represent various members of your stuffed animal collection while acting out conversations between them. He wholeheartedly approves of that collection (he feels the same way about good-quality cookware) and is a very understanding person overall. He isn’t one to judge people, and disapproves of mean-spirited humor.

“You’ve been eyeing that plushie display for at least ten minutes,” a voice said behind you. You jumped and turned around, and met the grin of a kind-looking, easygoing man. “Which ones are you the most torn between?”

You cocked your head to the side. The man wasn’t wearing a shop uniform, so it was highly unlikely he was an employee here. “How do you know it’s been ten minutes? …Or are you just making that up?”

His smile turned a trifle embarrassed. “I come here for the people-watching, to be honest. This shop sells a lot of vintage and handmade toys, and it’s always nice to see people find a new favorite thing, you know? You’ve got the look of a seasoned collector.”

A blush heated your face. “Thanks, I think. You’re right, I do have a few stuffies at home.”

“Excellent! I need some help finding a mascot for my new restaurant. A bear of some kind, but otherwise I don’t really have any preferences.”

You thought for a moment, looking past the displays of Squishmallows and Jellycats to the secondhand toys. Some of them were quite worn (or “well loved” as the sign said), while others looked as though they had time traveled right out of a display window from over a hundred years ago. 

“Why a bear?” you asked eventually.

“Oh, it’s because I’m a werebear and the restaurant is called the Bearpaw Grill,” the werebear said, but he grimaced as he said the restaurant's name—as though it left a bad taste in his mouth—before continuing: “Call me Honey, by the way.”

“That’s a cute name—yours, I mean,” you said, and then introduced yourself. “Do you not like your restaurant?”

“I love it just fine. I love the building, I love the kitchen… I just don’t like the branding. It sounds like a sports bar, when really I want to run a family-oriented diner, you know? But my marketing manager is very insistent.” 

“So? It’s your diner, isn’t it?” you pointed out. “You should follow your own dream, not someone else’s. What about this one?” You walked over to one of the bins of secondhand stuffed animals and pulled out a tattered-looking bear. It had blue button eyes and a little pink nose, with one green ear and a lopsided, stitched-on smile. “He looks like he’s been cuddled a lot.”

“He’s perfect,” Honey said, and then looked up at you. “And you’re right—I should stay true to my original vision. Come by sometime, okay? I want to treat you to lunch if that’s okay. Our grand opening is next month, and we’re right on the square by the clock tower.”

You smiled back at Honey. “That sounds really nice. It’s a date, then.”

Honey grinned back at you. “Yeah. I’m looking forward to it."

see here to get your own blind date with a monster!

[toeydbootzandcatz]

Pros of getting a kitten: amazing, adorable, loves to play/interact, incredible

Cons of getting a kitten: loves to stretch up and bat my figures off of my bookshelves and now they are in disarray lol

Haha no but overall my kitten has been such a joy to have in my life and as you can see, the pros outweigh the con. I’m debating getting doors for at least some bookcases to keep everything safe, but for now I just put all the figures on higher shelves lol.

I want to make an updated bookcase post but I’ll wait until I am able to organize accordingly!

[blackch-rry]

Afraid of Change

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Warnings: Angst, implied smut, cheating, reader is an angel, a lot of relationship stuff is left out, (he really really loves you, he’s just stupid), this is just a snippet of the toughest part of their relationship.

Word Count: 4.0k

A/N: My very first five fic! I haven’t written in a while so keep that in mind lol.

Afraid of Change Alternative Ending

***

It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.

The thought of being fine has always been empty words to you, not meaning the most. But as you step into the elevator and press the worn down button of the fifteenth floor all you can do is pray. Pray to whoever will listen that, yes, you will be fine.

You’re not sure when the suspicion rose within your mind, but recently it’s been all your thoughts. When you’re falling asleep and right when you’re waking up. As you walk down the hallway, twenty steps until the door, you hold onto the ring that rests on your right middle finger. You never had the confidence to put it on your left hand or even your ring finger, in case he’ll notice. It’s a constant reminder of what was and what should’ve been.

“It’s a placeholder for the real thing. One day, I promise…”

You’ve never been one for confrontation and honestly the second you unlock the door you might not dive into it. And that’s what happens when you close the door and put your belongings on the dining table. The urge to say something about what you are so sure of dissipates the longer you stand in place. I have to hear him say it…a slip up. And then I’ll find the courage. Is what you say to yourself to fight back your nerves.

You quickly go for the cabinet and fill a cup of water for yourself. As you sip you can hear rustling of paper down the hall, near the bedroom. In his study as always. You’re sure that he knows your home, but despite that you stand near the doorframe. You see his back and the rapid scribbling he’s doing. Your eyes immediately drift to the glass of whiskey to his left. And then the bottle, half empty, close by.

Always drinking. Always tipsy.

You clear your throat. “Have you had dinner?”

Without a flinch to your voice, seeing as he could hear your breathing from behind him since you got there, he raises the glass. “It’s right here.”

Jesus.

You’ve never liked staying in his study. (Not like he also enjoyed it…since he’s a workaholic and needs absolute silence.) You can’t help but step inside and stand near the bookcase and distract yourself with not really reading the titles. You distract yourself with the differentiating heights of the books. You picked up on distracting yourself a lot these days.

He sighs. “I’m working on something very important here and I need you to-” another sigh, “Did you want something?”

This makes you turn your head towards him. He’s not even looking at you. Still making markings on countless papers.

“No, not really.”

With that you make your way back into the hall, towards the bedroom. The first thing you notice is that your side of the bed is still unmade. Something about waking up by yourself this morning made you rush to get to work earlier than usual. You distract yourself with getting ready for bed. It’s not even late, barely past eight, but you have to do something. You think taking a shower first is better. As you undress and dip your hand into the rushing water to test the temperature, your eyes find their way to all his things in the bathroom. To his toothbrush, his pair of glasses lying on the porcelain of the sink, and to his towel hanging next to yours.

God, I’ve never been good with distractions when it comes to him.

And as if the shower isn’t the best place to get lost within yourself.

While you stand under the downpour you think of three months ago.

“I’ve always liked you best this way.” Five said from his place by the dresser. Hands in both of his pant pockets. Glasses on the bridge of his nose and hair in disarray.

“What way?” You glanced curiously up from your spot in bed, back against the headboard, and a small book with collections of poems in your hands.

“Like this,” he made his way to you, “Wearing just a comfy t-shirt, in bed, and focused on something you like.” As he sat by your feet your cat jumped up from the other end and came to stay right by your side. “I guess he likes it too.” He said, resting a hand on your leg that was under the blanket.

A playful grin makes its way on your face. “Why is the lack of clothes I’m wearing the first thing you mention?”

His hand continued to move up your body and you finally noticed how close he had gotten. He leaned to kiss you before leaning dangerously closer besides your ear.

“You better get the cat off the bed.”

Your brought back by the sound of a shampoo bottle slipping off the edge of the tub, sliding by your feet. You bend to pick it up and put it back. You think nothing else as you continue to shower.

After about ten more minutes your wrap a towel around yourself. The mirror is quite fogged up but you don’t wish to see yourself anyways. The clothes you change into are cozy and entirely your own. (You used to have a habit of stealing Five’s shirts…but is it technically stealing if you buy them for him since he can’t be bothered?) You do what you need to do to finish getting ready for bed and you finally step back into the bedroom. You see your cat is already curled up sleeping but instantly comes to when you get in.

You instinctively run a hand over him and find yourself smiling as he purrs. “How was your day Cat? Hope you did a lot of people watching from the window. I know you love that.” You whisper in case Five can hear you and interrupt his work. You sink deeper into the sheets and rest your head on the pillow. As you stare another memory floods over you.

“Five, I’m giving you the responsibility of naming him.”

He grunted in protest from the dining table. He watched you on the couch holding the rescue in your arms. You looked up from rubbing the cat’s belly and waited. Nodding your head in confirmation that he has to name him. Swinging one leg over the other, he said, “Cat.”

You laughed, “Yes, Five, I know he’s a cat.”

“No, silly. I’m naming him Cat.”

You gave an incredulous look in reply. With that he got up and before entering the kitchen he said, “You know I like to keep things simple. Cat is the simplest.”

You looked down to Cat while you heard Five opening the fridge. You weren’t even mad, in fact you found it funny. “Cat you’ll be then.”

After that you fell asleep with your hand resting on Cat’s back.

***

In the morning you wake up later than you normally allow yourself to. Cat is nowhere in sight, so you assume he’s in the living room waiting for breakfast. You look over and the other side of the bed is exactly how you found it yesterday. This annoys you slightly. You stand up and stretch your back out before heading to feed Cat. You hear Five talking to himself as you pass the study. He definitely didn’t get any sleep. You ignore this and focus on Cat. He’s exactly where you thought you’d find him, waiting by the window in the living room.

After two minutes, you gently place his new food on the floor and start making yourself breakfast. You need something comforting right now, so you make your favorite blueberry pancakes. After you’ve set your plate you take in that you made enough for two. Despite all your worry and suspicions you grab another plate.

You walk plate in hand and you’ve even got a smaller dish with syrup in the other. You knock, even though the door was already somewhat open, and wait for his response. He doesn’t and you can’t take standing out there any longer so you push inside. He doesn’t say anything in protest so you continue. You’re already annoyed with him for not sleeping so you don’t say a word as you place the food down on the emptiest part of the desk. You leave as quietly as you came in.

You don’t have to be at work today so you contemplate what your supposed to do all day. Being home doesn’t feel inviting, even if Cat’s there. He probably doesn’t need something from you for a while anyways since he already ate. You’ve come to the decision to get yourself coffee first, not Five’s coffee, so you quickly change and say goodbye to Cat before heading out.

There’s a quaint café a couple blocks from your apartment and it happens to be the only place that you can get a decent drink without regretting it after a few sips. You hear the bell above you and the friendly getting from the young barista behind the counter. You and a few other people, studious college students, contain the café. Which you appreciate because a rowdy coffee shop doesn’t sound pleasing right now. You greet back, order your usual, and take a seat at an empty table for two. Observing the table next to yours you realize it’s the same spot you met up with a college friend at weeks ago. You sigh at the memory.

“So, I’ve been dying to hear all about this boyfriend of three years.” She exclaimed full of excitement at the thought of your love life. The pastry she ordered left to cool in front of her.

“You wasted no time, Caroline.”

“Of course not! All I’ve gotten is a couple posts on Instagram about you two. And those don’t provide the details I’m looking for!”

You grin, “And what details are you looking for exactly?”

“Your sex life. Obviously.”

You snap your head around the café and feel a tad bit relieved nobody cared enough to eavesdrop. “Jesus, Caroline, my sex life?” You whisper the last part, embarrassed.

“Yes, I’ll tell you all about mine but you need to go first.”

“Why must I go first?” You mutter, but ultimately give up. It’s not something you want to share but maybe you’ll feel lighter. “Actually, it hasn’t been as good as it used to be.”

She reached a hand across the table, not grabbing yours, but it’s a sign she’s there and listening.

You noticed this and prepared yourself. “It’s been a little over two months since the last time.”

“Seriously? Is it you, or…”

“It’s him. I mean I’m not a prude and I’m up for it, but he’s been especially busy with his job recently, taking business trips, and whenever we’re at home it’s not like he’s shown any sign of wanting to.” You found your empty cup the thing you decided to stare at, not wanting to see the look on Caroline’s face.

She called you by your nickname, voice with concern. “So, you’ve been just left to your own devices?”

“God! I am not going to talk about that, Caroline.” You shift in your seat uncomfortably.

“Okay, okay. But I can’t help but think…” She glances down at her uneaten pastry before meeting your eyes again. So she’s thinking the same thing that’s been clouding your brain.

“I don’t know, but everything was fine a couple months ago and suddenly he’s different. Not as affectionate, even though he barely was in the beginning anyways, and I just feel like an afterthought to him lately.” You take a deep breath. “I don’t want to even fathom the idea that he’s cheating on me, but those business trips? He’s particularly distant and snappy when he’s back. I mean he’s always had a temper but he would apologize to me after. Now when he lashes out on me, for stupid things by the way, he just locks himself in his study. We barely talk.” You felt on the verge of tearing up, but you just breathed out shakily.

Caroline went to hold your hand this time. “Anything else you noticed?”

You nodded. “One time when I did the laundry, his suit jacket smelled like perfume. It was faint and I caught a whiff when I went to put it in, but I smelled it again and it wasn’t mine. I swear to God, I know every perfume I have and nothing comes close.” You felt this striking warmth in the middle of your chest. You just kept breathing in hope it went away.

“You have to ask him. I’ve dealt with cheaters before and you have to get his ass for it. Now.”

You cry, “Caroline, it’s not easy for me! I want to, I really do, but I’m so scared. If it’s true I don’t know what I’ll do. I love him. He’s…he’s the only one I’ve ever given all my love to.”

She gives your hand a quick squeeze.

“But if he’s cheating, you’ll leave him right?”

You’re back at the almost empty café. You get up, deciding that drinking your coffee is better off anywhere but here.

***

Afternoon is when you get back to the apartment. Your legs tired of aimlessly walking for hours. Stopping here and there at stores and the park, but nevertheless tired. Putting your jacket on the hook and not forgetting to give some attention to Cat, you hesitantly walk down the hall. Peaking into his study you find it empty. Confused, you ears pick up the noise coming from the bedroom. You enter and see Five packing a small suitcase.

“Where are you going?” You lean on one side of your body, anxious.

He looks briefly at you before putting more of his things together. “Business trip.”

That warmth from weeks ago creeps back in your chest.

“Again? But you had one last week.” You can’t help the small amount of bite that goes with what you said. Five stops and turns to face you. “It’s work. I have to go.”

“It’s just that they’ve never been this close to each other.”

He scoffs, “Well if you have so much of a problem with it then call and complain to them. Not me.” He zips the suitcase and walks past you. He’s wearing the same suit you smelled perfume on. You stand there, taking your deep breaths, before following after him.

“Five.”

He’s in the study, putting paperwork together in a briefcase. You’re going to pretend that he didn’t hear you, so you call again. “Five.”

“What.” He sounds uninterested and that damn striking warmth won’t leave you. You want to ask. You want to blurt it out and demand an answer. He’s still moving about with determination and the question almost, almost, goes back inside of you. But you don’t want to be the girl that doesn’t even bother. The girl that ignores it.

“Are you cheating on me, Five?” You don’t say it with much confidence, but you still say it. He pauses for a moment, jaw tight, before zipping the briefcase and standing before you.

“What makes you come to that conclusion?” He’s looking down on you, and god, it makes you angry.

“That’s not a denial, Five.”

“Christ. I’m not having this conversation because I’m not cheating on you.” He looks antsy, like he wants to leave this apartment this second, but he makes no moves. He’s not looking at you anymore and you stay silent. What can you say? All you think about is why didn’t he say that in the first place? Why not deny it the second after you said it?

Why isn’t he angry you even accused him?

“I’m running late. We’ll talk when I get back.”

With that, he goes past you yet again and you stand in the study even after you hear the door close.

You think that it’s all the pent up frustration from all this that you release your tears. You don’t make a big fuss, not a sound, just noiseless crying. You hug yourself while you return to the bedroom. You curl up in bed facing away from everything that reminds you of Five.

You stare at the wall ahead and it’s when you hear Cat coming and jump up to lay by you that your crying becomes noiseless.

***

His business trips typically last three to four days, but what makes you flinch is when you hear the apartment door open. It’s only been one day since he left. You’ve stayed in bed, on your side, the whole time. Only getting up to feed Cat and take a long shower. You don’t bother moving. Only listening to the footsteps and the creaking of the bedroom door being pushed open. He wordlessly sits by your feet near the edge of the bed. It’s all so familiar and it makes you feel sick. He doesn’t say anything.

“Why are you here?” You break the silence first.

“I’ve done some thinking. I thought it would be best to come back.” He sits not facing you, elbows on his knees. You really can’t bring yourself to look at him.

“What have you been thinking?”

“Her name is Nora. She works in another department.” You find his words have guilt clinging onto them.

“Did you meet her while you were away?”

You’re still staring at the wall. Too calm for his liking.

“Yes. A long time ago, but things…escalated a few months ago.”

You shut your dried out eyes and sniffle. That anger came back within you instantly. “Months? Did you ever think to stop? That you have a girlfriend at home?”

“Of course, I never wanted it to happen for this long. Or at all, but work has been insanely stressful-”

You sit up, in complete disbelief, and you ignore the way your body hurts from being in the same position for hours. “For fucks sake, Five! You think that’s an excuse? I’m right here, always have been for you!”

He snaps his head towards you. “No, I know it’s not an excuse! And I’ve always thought about you and guilt has been eating away at me. I just…I can’t justify what I did, but I have no plans on seeing her ever again. I love you, I always will. I’m just always jumping way too far into things and I lost my way.”

He inches closer not sure how you’d feel, so he still gives space. “All I can hope is that you forgive me. It’s the worst thing I could’ve done and I did it. I’m sorry.”

You hear his apology, but it remains unimportant right now. “Am I not enough? You say you love me and that you wanted to stop but when you’re here I don’t feel loved, Five. We don’t even act like a couple anymore. I’m a roommate basically. I do things for you and get shit in return.”

He shut his eyes in shame before focusing back on you and running a hand through his hair. God, you hate him.

“I know. I know I’ve been terrible but it’s because I’m so mad with myself. I’m mad I didn’t ignore her like how I do to everyone else. I’m angry I didn’t come to you. I hate that I made you feel unloved, but you’re the first relationship I’ve had that I wanted to hold onto forever. I’m so sorry.”

It’s then that he takes attention to the fact that your ring is no longer on your finger, but on the bedside table instead.

His eyes widen slightly before his entire being just goes slack. “Are you going to leave me?”

You don’t answer and lie back down. He doesn’t urge a response from you, assuming you’ve heard enough and need space. Five watches you reach for Cat before making his way to his study, closing the door behind him.

You just need to think.

***

It takes you approximately two hours to come to an answer. You know you’re better than this. Deserve more than this. But you’ve never had luck with boyfriends, they never felt right to you. There’s just something about him that makes you not want to imagine a future that doesn’t have him in it.

You’ve always been afraid of change.

And leaving him would change the entire world.

You didn’t talk to him the rest of the night and fell asleep alone, but when you wake up the next morning he’s there sleeping on his side. That’s what seals the deal. The way the morning sun peaks through the curtains, leaving a glow around him. To his long eyelashes, his messy bed head, the way he grumbles in his sleep…you’re suddenly reminded of all the good in your relationship. The time spent before this obstacle.

That’s all it is. An obstacle. And you want to get through this. You won’t leave unless he tells you to. You hope that he’s just as afraid of change as you.

Because you think to yourself that there’s probably no one who will love him the way you do. Nobody who will love him enough to forgive a slip up. God, you’re so in love with him. You’re love is what makes you stay.

Quietly, you get out of bed. There’s still some coffee in the pot when you arrive in the kitchen. You’re not sure how old it is so you pour it down the sink and make a new one. After you pour yourself a mug you’re sitting at the dining table hoping the smell of coffee will wake him up. It does. A couple minutes pass and he’s sauntering down the hall. He catches you sitting and forgoes the coffee and rests across from you.

“I’m not leaving, Five,” you say gently, “I never deserved this and I don’t want to be in a relationship where I ever felt so betrayed. But right now I don’t want to leave, I want to resolve this. With you.”

His eyes are glossy and you notice this. You’ve seen Five cry once before and it’s on the edge of happening again. His voice is low and meek.

“You’re so good. You always have been and who am I to take that for granted. I’ve done the worst to you and you forgive me. You want to fix this,” a tear descends, “There’s something wrong with me but you see right passed that. I will do anything to make this better. I swear to God I never want you to feel less than, not enough.”

He tentatively places his hand on the table, silently begging you take it. When you do he continues. “She never meant a thing, it was an emotionless act, and I will repay you like my life depends on it. I love you. I’d save the fucking world over and over again just so I don’t lose you. I will never do this to you again.”

He’s full on crying and witnessing it causes you to tear up. You’ve never heard him so serious and you know he means everything. You’re so weak for him it breaks your heart.

He shakily takes a breath, trying to calm himself, and reaches into his pocket. Not letting go of your hand. If anything he’s gripping onto it for dear life. With his other hand he opens his palm to reveal your promise ring. He meets your eyes and silently asks. Can I? You nod. He grabs your hand, reluctantly letting go of the other, and puts it on your ring finger. You take awareness of the matching on he wears.

He stands and tenderly pulls you to your feet as well. He’s wrapping himself around you, one hand on the back your head, stroking your hair. His head rests on top of yours.

“I promise to never take you for granted ever again. I promise to be better. And I promise you are the only one I’ll ever look at, I’ll ever love.”

His shirt has become wet and you glance down to see Cat waiting patiently for his food.

You pull away and reach up to look at him. He waits no longer to kiss you. He’s holding you tight.

You’re afraid of change and you know now that he is too.

[raindancer2004]

Struggling to Sleep

Word Count: 1000 Demetri x Reader One Shot Warnings: Fluff. This idea came to me a few nights ago when I couldn’t sleep, although I didn’t have Demetri to help me ☹️

After discovering that they were mates, Demetri moved Y/N into the castle, wanting her near at all times, he wanted, no needed to know she was safe. Much to Demetri’s delight Y/N had accepted the news about vampires existing and the fact she was his mate, his one true love rather well. Although finding out about his diet and that he lived in a castle full of vampires was a little harder to take in, especially when he advised her that the castle was to be her home too now that they had finally found one another.

Y/N hadn’t slept much, if at all since she moved into the castle over a week ago. Sleeping in a castle full of vampires was hard, even if she was mated to an elite guard. She tried reading her favourite book, she tried reading a random book from Demetri’s bookcase that sounded boring to her, hoping it would help her fall asleep. Nothing worked and she was beginning to feel exhausted.

Y/N laid in bed trying to sleep in her and Demetri’s shared room, but she kept tossing and turning. Demetri heard her sigh from the hallway and noticed her heartrate increased a little. He raced into the room to find the bed in disarray and Y/N laid diagonally across the bed, the duvet only covering part of her. He felt sorry for her as he realised she was having another restless night. He carefully shifted her on the bed to a more comfortable position and covered her with the duvet ensuring she was warm. He took a seat on the sofa and began to read and noticed not ten minutes later Y/N had shifted in bed again, tossing and turning and another sigh left her lips as she tried to get comfortable on his side of the bed.

Demetri was worried about his mate as he had noticed she hadn’t been sleeping properly at night and sometimes found her napping during the day. He was unsure how to help her and was beginning to feel like he was being a bad mate, like he was letting her down so he decided to ask for help.

“Hello Gianna, how is your day going?” “Hello Demetri, my day is going well albeit a little slow. How is your day going?” She replied with a smile “My day is going ok too. However, I am after some advice...if you don’t mind” He replied “Of course. How can I help?” Demetri took an unneeded breath before answering her “I have noticed that Y/N is struggling to sleep and hasn’t slept fully since she moved in. How can I help her?” Gianna nodded, giving him a sympathetic look before replying “Firstly, speak to her and find out if there is anything on her mind. Secondly, there are a few things you can do to help her relax; a) run her a bath, b) put on some soft music in the bathroom whilst she’s in the bath and or in the bedroom once she’s in bed and c) depending how close you two are, you could hold her in your arms whilst she sleeps, it may make her feel safe” Gianna replied and watched as a small smile appeared on Demetri’s face “Thank you Gianna, that’s very helpful” “You’re welcome Demetri.”  

That night after guard duty Demetri ran Y/N a bath and played soft music in the bathroom “Y/N, I have run you a bath to help you relax a little” He said as he took her hand and led her into the bathroom “If you need or want anything, just call out” “Thank you Dem” She replied and kissed his cheek. He left the bathroom and closed the door, hoping the bath would help her relax.

Once she was finished in the bathroom she made her way over to the bed where Demetri was waiting for her “How are feeling?” He asked “Relaxed. Thank you” She replied and sat on the bed “Is something bothering you Y/N?” She didn’t answer him “You know you can tell me anything, I just want you to be happy” She took a deep breath “I’m not sleeping well…I’m not sleeping much at all in all honestly” She said low but he heard her “Why’s that?” She shrugged “Look at me…please” She looked up at him and he could see tears sitting in the corners of her eyes “Why are you not sleeping mi amore?” “I-I don’t feel safe…not when I’m alone in a castle full of vampires” “I wondered if that was the problem when I came in the other night and found you tossing and turning” He took her hand in his, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of her hand “I’m sorry Dem” She said low “You have nothing to apologise for. It’ll take time for you to feel totally at ease here in the castle” He replied, his thumb wiping away the lone tear that fell. “Let me hold you while you sleep” He said softly, Y/N smiled and nodded “That sounds nice” She climbed into bed and slowly moved closer to him; his arms reached out and pulled her into his side.

Demetri held her close and buried his nose into her hair and inhaled; he loved how his mate smelt. He moved one hand to her head and began stroking her hair gently, he turned his head so his cheek rested on her hair and began to sing low in Greek. It was the lullaby he remembered from when he was a human child and he soon noticed that his mate’s breathing had evened out and her heartrate had slowed. He smiled to himself knowing that she felt safe with him, felt safe to fall asleep in his arms “I will always be here to keep you safe and will hold you in my arms forever mi amore” He said low and kissed her hair continuing to hold her whilst she slept.

[gothamcityangst]

Day 5- I've got red in my ledger - Betrayal - Mad Hatter

Lets do some Bathatter shall we? HatBat? trying my best to catch up lol.

-

O Frabjous Day! O Frabjous Day! This was Jervis' frabjous day. Three years out of Arkham. It was his anniversary. The last place he'd expected to find himself on this momentous occasion was in Wayne Manor of all places. His old boss offered him a place to stay while he got himself back on his feet.

And then it became his own personal wonderland. With Bruce as his Alice life was a dream but not just any dream. The most wonderful dream of any dreamer and it was all real.

For this special day he'd set up a small dinner in Bruce's study, some private time was exactly what he and his beloved needed. All the arrangements were done save for one tiny, detail.

The bookcase was in complete disarray. No doubt the meddlesome butler had a hand in rearranging the books. Jervis has colour coordinated then whereas the other Englishman had opted for an alphabetical system.

Jervis only ever really used one book from the shelf. He pulled a green book only for it to stay in its place, the top corner of the book pulling all the way down, as another part of the bookshelf shifted to the side, a small lift revealed itself.

Jervis furrowed his brow. He knew every nook and cranny of this place, he could only wonder why his love neglected to tell him this. Jervis' first thought was it was an older tunnel. Something older generations used to escape whatever threat they were facing. He entered the lift and without warning, he was shot down.

As soon as the doors opened he wandered out into a massive underground cave. He flinched as a group of bats swooped a little too close to his head. This place...it couldn't be. There were gadgets and gizmos and all sorts of toys. Toys he recognised from his criminal days. Toys that had left him in the hospital for weeks on end.

He clutched his head in pain as the rush of information hit him. His stomach flipped and turned and twisted in a most unnatural way. His loving partner was always so absent during the nights and tired during the day. Bruce's vigorous training routine, the random marks on his body that'd appear from time to time. All of it suddenly made perfectly, horrible sense.

Jervis could practically feel the presence behind him.

"You...You're the batman?"

When he turned around. The caped crusader stood, his cowl pulled down to reveal Bruce's pained face. From the crop of black, dark hair to the blue eyes that burned into his soul. His face looked like it had been carved by a master sculptor; the high cheekbones, brow arches and perfect jaw. His skin looked smooth and perfect. Jervis could see the sweat dripping down his face.

Jervis supposed God had found Lucifer beautiful at one point. The Red Queen was a beautiful ruler before she opened her lips.

There was an attempt to get closer to him but he was having none of it. Jervis pulled away, a seething scowl drawn across his face. The aura of rage from Jervis permeated the entire room.

"You're the reason I spent weeks in the infirmary! Broken bones and all. Did you have any idea of the pain I was in?"

The early days of crime were the worst. Batman had no mercy for him then. His ribs were broken in two separate places and recovery hadn't been easy or pleasant. At this moment he could only think of how gentle Bruce was with when he held him during cold winter nights.

"Jervis. Please listen-"

"What? What could you possibly say to me that would make this alright?"

Jervis' heart was bleeding. He was wounded and it was no doubt fatal. The revelation was a knife in his weak beating heart. And all of Bruce's attempts to talk only pushed it in deeper. He'd rather be whacked with a thousand mallets over and over again than be forced to endure this.

"I'm sorry Jervis. You were going to hurt people. I had to stop you."

"And dating me was just your sick way of keeping me in check was it? You're vile. To beat me one moment and kiss me the next. You're a vile, vile man."

"No. God no. I can explain."

"Save it, Batman. Or shall I call you Bruce you twisted two-timing tumultuous trollop?"

Without another word, Jervis ran back to the lift. The doors of the lift shutting before Bruce could reach. He pounded his palms on the glass. Jervis could see Bruce's breath condensing on the glass. Pleading eyes meeting scorned ones.

"Good day."

[eyeliasbratchard]

This is yet another installment of the Blue Cardigan series and a very late birthday present for @avatar-made-of-butterflies 😁😘

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“Elias is in a bad mood.” TIm announces, sitting down a box of pastries next to where Sasha as idly scrolling on her phone.

Sasha looks up. “What makes you say that?" She asks, sitting the device aside and pulling the box closer. She selects a danish and sits back.

"Well when I got here, he was looking around the filing room for...something. Seemed frantic. I told him good morning and he didn't even bother to insult me."

"Well...maybe whatever he's looking for is important." Sasha muses, biting into the danish.

"Maybe so but he's made quite the mess and-"

"We'll be expected to clean it up. Because of course we will." Sasha sighs.

"Let's just hope his mess isn't too much. Jon is going to flip his lid." Tim grimaces.

"We'll just have Martin tell him. Problem solved."

Tim shakes his head with a laugh. "That's a valid point."

"Have Martin tell me what?" Jon asks as he enters the room, watching the other two jump in surprise. He felt a strange satisfaction at that.

Tim watches Jon cross the room and get himself a glass of coffee.

"Well?' Jon looks up. "Tell me what?".

"That...Elias is making a mess because he lost something."

Jon takes a long drink before sitting the mug on the counter with a sigh. "I just reorganized that room. Bloody hell." He picks up the mug again and starts to leave the room. "I'm a bit behind so I'm getting an early start. Try not to set Elias off more."

Tim watches him go. "He took that better than I thought he would."

"He hasn't seen the mess yet." Sasha sighs. "Well I need to go look into some ghosts. I'll see you later?"

"I'll be here."

Jon steps into the file room and nearly dropped his mug in shock. The room is in complete disarray. Boxes everywhere and papers in discarded piles on the floor. All of his long hours reshelving and cleaning were undone. Deep in the room, Jon can hear annoyed muttering.

"Who's there?" He calls. "You've already soured my mood by making a mess."

There's more shuffling before Elias' head pops out from behind a bookcase. "Ah hello Jon. Apologies for the mess."

"I'm sure " Jon replies drily. "What is it that you are looking for?"

"My cardigan."

"Your what?"

"My cardigan? Blue? Soft? Ridiculously cheap?"

"Why would your cardigan be in here?"

"Because I can't find it anywhere else." Elias throws his hands up in exasperation, stepping over the box closest to him.

"Yes well, your cardigan isn't in here."

Elias hums. "Yes. I've noticed. I best keep looking." He pats Jon's shoulder, not missing the way the shorter man flinched before brushing past and out of the room.

Jon watched him go before looking at the mess with a sigh. It's going to be a very long day.

Elias leaves Jon to his work, which the shorter man is greatful for. He gets through two statements before pausing for a break and looking up to see Martin tapping softly on the doorframe.

"What is it?" Jon asks, sitting back in the chair with a tired look on his face.

Martin approaches the desk and offers Jon a paper bag with a nervous smile.

"What's this?" Jon opens the bag. Inside was a nearly folded- oh bloody hell. "Martin-"

"I found it the other day on the floor outside your office." Martin rubs the side of his neck sheepishly. "I was going to return it sooner but it had a hole so I...fixed it and washed it."

"Martin-" Jon tried again.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you but I just- just forgot and-" Martin continues to ramble.

Jon wanted to scream. This mess was Martin's fault. But it was more Elias' fault for losing the bloody cardigan in the first place.

"Martin."Jon says, louder this time. "Stop talking."

Martin's mouth closes. "Sorry…"

"I…" be nice Jon. "Appreciate the gesture but…"

Martin's face falls.

"This isn't mine."

"It's not?"

"No. It's Elias'. He's been making a mess all morning looking for it."

Martin pales. Jon can see the "oh shit I fucked up" going through his head as if it were said out loud. "I-"

"Just...go put it in his office. Then you're going to help me clean this mess up."

"Ri-" Martin clears his throat. "Right. Of course. Sorry." He shuffles out of the room, a rather adorable blush spreading across the back of his neck. Tim is never going to let him live this down.

[illogicalthinking]

Listen

A/n: Ellie and I were discussing this idea in the discord server ages ago and alas this happened. Also big thanks to the Logang for helping me and believing in me.

Word count: 1,169

Warnings: angst with a happy ending, morally grey sides, roman is a tiny bit mean (but he apologises) crying.

——————

It is a surprise to nobody that the logical side loves to learn. Logan could tell you anything you wanted to know; teaching exhilarates him so much. However, nothing pleases him more than his room being in such a disarray. Why? Because the clutter of books, pens, pencils, notepads and other nick nacks shows that Thomas is willingly learning something new!

You see, the state of Logans room depends on Thomas. If Thomas is willingly learning something new whatever he is learning will portray itself in clutter all over Logans floor, bookcase and desk. However, the longer Thomas doesn’t acquire any new knowledge the cleaner Logans room becomes. Much to Logans dismay.

Growing up, Logans room was in a constant state of chaos. Books, pens notecards, projects all took residence in Logans room, Keeping him company. However, once Thomas chose entertainment over chemical engineering his room gradually became tidier and tidier until one day Logans room was immaculate. There was no longer anything taking residence in the logical sides room and for the first time in his life he was truly alone.

————-

The loneliness had never quite left his side after that. No matter where he went loneliness’ nimble fingers wrapped themselves tight around his throat, leaving him with a constant tightness in his chest and a gaping hole in his heart. No longer did Logan feel any positive emotions. Thomas destroyed all emotions Logan may have had felt in his youth when Thomas chose to entertain rather than to save the planet leaving his room permanently immaculate in the process. Afterall what exactly had Thomas learnt from entertaining?

However, Logan could never tell the others how painful it is to be reminded of how Thomas chose Roman over him every time he walks into his room, the evidence is all there; Thomas is clearly happier performing rather than when he was learning. Logan had spent most of his existence ensuring Thomas remains healthy and happy and if that means Logan has to endure emotional conflict every time he rises up to his spot in Thomas’ living room, then so be it, besides who cares about what Logan thinks?  

The sides have made it perfectly clear he is unwanted; they only keep him around when they want to prove a point, he is merely a tool for them to use whenever they please, nothing more. Logan wishes he could miss the way the other sides completely disregard his input or brush aside his concerns regarding Thomas’ career path. He tried bringing up his concerns once before but all that led him to, was a promotion from acquaintance to the new antagonist. Since then, Logan has kept all his crippling insecurities locked up in a metaphorical box and only himself has access to the key, he cannot risk being a disappointment ever again.

The sides don't even know about Logans predicament with his room, they had always assumed Logan was some sort of clean freak but if they personally knew him, they would know that was the opposite of the truth. Logan worked best in mess, not in a constant reminder that Thomas did not care about him.

However, the state of Logans room changed after a particular event.

Thomas had called upon the sides to discuss ideas for future episodes, Logan did not know why Thomas had even called upon him, it's not like any of them will listen to what he has to say, as soon as he opens his mouth to contribute he will be interrupted by one of the others or even Thomas himself but he still rose up anyway, after all Thomas needed him.

---

Logan was starting to become frustrated; this discussion had been happening for hours now and nobody had let him have a say. One more try couldn’t hurt. Logan thought to himself.  

“I have an proposit-”

“Oh, hush bill nye the science tie, creativity is not your area of expertise it is mine, besides all you care about is math anyway” Roman hissed bitterly.

“Pump the breaks princey! let's hear Logan out instead of disregarding him like we usually do”  

Well that was new, Thomas had never defended him before. An unusual warmth blossomed in the logical side's chest, making him feel that buzz of excitement he hadn't experienced since he was young.

“Thank you Thomas. As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted by Roman, I have a proposition in relation to the next sanders sides episode”  

“What idea do you have in mind Logan?” Thomas spoke softly.

“How about we film an educational vid-”

“An educational video really? Sounds stupid” Roman hissed.

“Roman at least let me state my idea before you make a judgement” Logan exclaimed sharply. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

“My bad. I'm sorry Logan” Roman guiltily said.  

“It is quite alright Roman” Logan spoke softly, he could see the guilt swimming in Romans eyes, and he hated it.  

“My proposition is to film an educational but informative video discussing different techniques on how to set a healthy routine. Thomas you are in desperate need of an efficient routine and I'm sure many of the viewers are in need of one too”

“Logan, I love that idea, I can't wait to begin researching!” Thomas spoke, buzzing with excitement.

“Well it seems we have resolved the problem, I will be going, goodbye Thomas” Logan tried not to let his excitement show but Thomas listened to him! He actually liked one of his ideas, how could he not be excited?!

Logan sunk back into the common room to read the tempest and shovel crofters into his mouth, after all he deserved it, Thomas defended and listened to him, he couldn’t believe this!

Three jars and a finished book later, Logan decided to start working on Thomas’ schedule. Nobody followed Logans schedule, but he could not help hoping that one day they might appreciate the time and effort that is put into them.

Logan marched up the stairs to his bedroom with a spring in his step but froze when he opened his door. The once immaculate room was now a mess, pens, pencils littered the logical sides desk, books and notepads were sprawled all over his bedroom floor and bed, he couldn’t believe it for the first time since Thomas’ career change he was learning something!

Logan broke.

The logical sides knees buckled from under him, causing him to collapse onto his messy floor. Logans bottom lip quivered, and the tears came all at once. Audible sobs squeezed through his tight throat and escaped his lips. He tried to stifle them with his hands so the others could nothear him breaking down. He can't believe it; his room hadn’t been messy since Thomas started YouTube but now it was in utter chaos.

Logan did not know how long he remained sitting on the floor with hot tears streaming down his face, but he did know one thing:

Thomas finally listened

[fang-wolfsbane]

Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia: Inked Feathered Flame: Chapter 06: Memorabilia

“The first in your class? That’s amazing Akuriru! We knew you could do it!”

“As a reward, we can go anywhere you want to for dinner tonight!”

“Really? Anywhere?”

“Yes, anywhere at all! After all, we have to spoil our smart boy, don’t we?”

“But of course! Come, tell us. Where do you want to go?”

Was what Akuriru liked to imagine the situation to have been when he first told his parents that he had been accepted into Ultimate Academy, but nevertheless, things hadn’t gone that way.

Sure, his parents had originally been shocked that he managed to get into such a prestigious high school in the first place, but then again, he hadn’t told them about just exactly how he had been accepted in the first place. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his parents, but he knew that telling them could put them in trouble as well if – or at this point, when – his secret got out.

Currently sitting at his desk with his math homework in front of him, Akuriru found himself scratching at his head. Normal school academics had never been his strongpoint. He wasn’t a bad student, but when it came to complex mathematics and such, he felt like tearing his hair from his skull. It made sense as to why they, the students from a hero academy, would need to know the volume of something, in case they needed the knowledge in a situation to determine a destructive range of something, but that didn’t really motivate him into remembering the formula for it.

He considered taking a break, but after seeing how determined most of the students were in class earlier today, he felt the need to try and keep up with them. It didn’t make it any easier though.

As if on cue, Akuriru’s head rose from the cage of his hands wrapped over his head, to hear Momo making her way up to his room. The two of them didn’t usually hang out after school, so when she opened his door, he found his words escaping before he had the chance to think them through properly.

“What are you doing here?”

“Is that any way to greet your cousin?” Momo asked, her head tilted with that always friendly smile of hers. Her eyes soon found his homework before him and judging by the bag she had hanging from her arm, she had known exactly what he needed.

“No,” Akuriru felt his face colouring as he looked back to his books, feeling ashamed for the tone he had used, “s-sorry.”

Momo’s smile remained as she waved her hand to brush it off. He supposed that’s what he liked the most about his cousin, the fact that she never held his quips against him. He knew he should treat her nicer, all things considered, and he tried. He just needed to try harder.

“Uh, do you want to take a seat?” Akuriru asked, motioning to the single bed pushed against the only windowed wall with its own array of band and comic posters plastered in a disarray, as well as a couple of tattoo designs that he was considering getting for the future, both for his work as a professional hero and because he simply liked the designs.

The only other furniture in the room besides that was his desk, chair, and bookcase with his comic and sketchbooks. He wasn’t one to call himself a great artist, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t enjoy putting pencil to paper and watching the result come to life. Figuratively of course. His quirk didn’t allow him to manipulate ink on paper like it did on skin.

“Pardon the intrusion,” Momo said as she entered his room, closing the door behind her, omitting a soft chuckle when she noticed the All Might poster taped to the back of it, causing Akuriru’s cheeks to colour once more, except this time it was for a different reason.

They had both been around seven when there was an All Might meet-and-greet convention in town. They both had gone but at one point during the convention, Akuriru had gotten lost on his way back from the bathroom, and too scared to ask anyone for help with finding his cousin and her mother, had ended up waiting outside the convention hall, bawling in tears by the time they found him.

By then the convention had already been over, and all the merchandise sold out. Momo had gotten the last piece of memorabilia, a cute little key chain, but he hadn’t gotten anything after having wanted just one thing to remember the day by. She must have felt bad, because the next moment he saw, she had turned around, lifted her shirt enough to expose her stomach and then out of nowhere he had a brand new, custom made All Might poster in his hands, courtesy of Momo Yaoyorozu, with her back-then-in-practice signature neatly scribbled in the corner. It had become his most treasured possession.

“You know, I could make you a new one if you want. All you have to do is ask,” she said, smiling at the memory as she made her way over to his bed, setting her bag down by her feet.

Akuriru shook his head, a fond smile on his own lips. “No. I like it the way it is.”

“All right. So, which homework should we do first?”

Akuriru found his smile widening. Not only did his cousin take the feelings of others into account, but she also knew how and when to help. He nearly shot out of his chair to hug her but kept himself seated.

“The wonderful world of numbers and figures,” Akuriru said, holding up his calculator with an overly dramatic sigh mixed in with his own sarcasm.

“My favourite,” Momo chuckled as she opened her bag.

[cowboisadness]

Hang ‘Em High {Arthur Morgan x FemOC} Chapter 11

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC Summery: Belle Hawthorne is high society looking to escape her mean husband. A robbery by the Van Der Linde gang could be her chance. Can she escape his cluches and possibly discover what love should feel like?

Warnings: Violence and attemped sexual assault/rape. Its not graphic but ive put * at the begining and end of that part if you want to miss it out. 

.....

The minutes that passed felt like hours or maybe it had been hours since these men took me. With no idea which direction they were going, I tried desperately to hear my surroundings for some clue to where I currently was, the busy sounds of a nearby town perhaps? Maybe the call of local birds that habited certain states. I couldn’t hear anything apart from the rush of hooves and a body of water that was crossed. My body aching from the constant movement. Not to mention I was flung over the back of this horse like a dead buck. All I could hope for was that one of the others saw me being taken, that they were following not far behind. Either that or the hope that whatever they were needing me for would have a swift ending, no matter what ending that would be. I doubted but hoped. Hope was all I had on me.

The horses came to a slow and then stopped, other voices could be heard in the distance. I was dragged off the horse and carried. Squirming in the man’s relentless grasp done nothing as he took me inside a building and then dropping me in a heap on the floor. My wrists burned as I tried to pull myself up to sit, pushing myself back with my feet till my back hit a wall. I heard a faint giggle before the hood was pulled off. Squinting at the sudden brightness before making out two figures stood before me, towering. Their rotten teeth showing through their sickening smirks.

“You gunna behave? Be a good little girl for us?” The larger man said as he crouched in front of me. I couldn’t will any words to escape, tears staining my cheeks and my whole body shaking in fear.

“Look, she’s shaking like a little rabbit.” The man laughed, causing the other man to cackle. “I like it when they are scared.” He continued, lifting his hand to my soaked cheek

“Don’t touch me!” It was nothing more than a squeak despite trying my best to sound intimidating. The man laughed again.

“She does speak,” He proceeded to remove his hand from my face and onto my knee “I wonder w-” I didn’t give him a chase to finish as I brought my knee up and kicked him in the chest, causing him to fall back slightly. His eyes changed to one of fury. The man behind him with his hand now hovering over his holstered pistol. Before I could react the man stood up, breathing heavily. His boot then connected with my head, toppling me over onto my side in a heap, crying out in pain. Another kick, this time to my gut, screaming out again in my haze, the corners of my vision going blurry. A feeling of trickling cooling liquid falling across my face as my vision got darker and darker.

---

The general store owner in Rhodes didn’t expect to be threatened and then interrogated by two groups of strangers that day. The look of fear on his face as Arthur and Charles entered the store looking for Bella gave it away. But with a gun in his face as he backed up into the corner it didn’t take long for him to reveal that she had been taken by a group of Irish sounding men. Arthur and Charles shared a look of understanding before leaving the store in haste. Making their way back to camp to pick up another gun. Three men took her, but there was a possibility there would be more. There was always a pack when O’Driscolls were involved. It didn’t take long for Charles to pick up the multiple horse tracks making their way out of Rhodes and heading north towards the Heartlands, then west. The tracks avoided the roads as much as possible, keeping to untouched dirt which made the tracks easier to follow. They lost the tracks once they hit the Dakota River. They searched for the continuation of the tracks along the river now on West Elizabeth ground before deciding to search the area more widely. Passing a small cabin with a barn with no one in sight. They pushed on, searching the tree lines and the possibility of another cabin or hideout. It was a few hours till they came upon a cabin a bit further north of the river. Hidden by the surrounding trees but a fire visible from afar even in the dying light as the sun began to make its descent beyond the distant mountains.

---

My head throbbed and pulsed with pain. Opening my eyes I’m met with almost darkness. The sun setting or rising, I had no idea. The stench of sweat and iron filled my nose, the distant cheers of drunken men could be heard just beyond the door. I tried to sit up again but my legs wouldn't move. I couldn't move them. So I just laid there, my mind going a million miles a second, looking around me for another door or an open window. My heart racing from the realisation that I couldn’t get out of this. Hopeless. The one-roomed cabin was in disarray. A table and chairs in the centre, a stove along with a log fire to the left of it. An empty bookcase to the right beside the window and a chest just a few feet to my right. The floor was littered with empty bottles and stains.

 The door slammed open, making me jump. The two men from before stumbling their way inside, clearly drunk. I was helpless as they made their way over, pulling me upright by my bound arms till I was upright. His face so close to mine I could smell the whiskey on his wretched breath. Turning my head away from the stench he grabbed my cheeks, forcing me to face him.

“I gotta punish you properly for kicking me, missy.” He slurred. I didn't have time to think before he landed another punch to my gut and then to my face, leaving me no time to recover before bringing his balled-up fist down again. My stomach convulsing and the side of my face throbbing.

“Tom. He said anywhere but her face.”

No, no, no.

It couldn’t be.

I wasn’t just a random victim. They knew who I was the second I walked up those steps to the store.

I tried to pull myself away. My body simultaneously burning with fear and the overwhelming push to do whatever it takes to escape. Mustering whatever strength I had left to keep moving, no matter what it took, no matter how much it hurt. Before I could even make it a few feet I was stopped in my tracks with a pull on my scalp, pulling me back and upwards, shouting at the sudden pain from my hair being pulled so harshly. His grip not relenting as he continued to pull me away from the wall and further into the centre of the room. Kicking my bound legs frantically as I tried to break free from the burning the pull was causing. He hoisted me up onto my feet, his face now in mine and his rancid breath once again in my face as he held onto my hair and my tied wrists. That’s when I realised, death would be my only other option. And I’d gladly take it.

Ceasing my movements I looked straight into his face, unable to see anything but sickening joy in his eyes. So I spat at him. With a smile on my face and a hope that that would push him to put a few bullets in me. But it was fleeting. He wiped his face with the hand previously gripping my wrists then collided his head with mine. My legs buckled beneath me, vision blurring, earing ringing and my head throbbing in agony.

I lost all power within me as I felt another pair of hands on my ankles. The other man cutting the rope. Trying to kick my failing legs I was turned to face him. What he said was nothing but incoherent mumbles, my ears filled with deafening ringing. He brought the knife to my chest just above my bouse, the pressure so light my nerves didnt sing out in pain. Then he sliced down, ripping the layers of cloth along and my flesh. Screaming out as I felt the burning from my sternum to my waist, warm liquid accompanying it. Then I was ushed face-first onto the table beside me. * The buzzing in my ears fading momentarily to hear laugher from the man holding me down as he told the other to get the other boys in line so they can all have a go. Then I felt his free hand latch onto the top of my pants, squirming as he began to pull mercilessly. His body covering mine as he pressed me harder and harder into the table. Crushing me while his hands roamed over my thighs. I was beyond hope, beyond any chance to break free. It seems death only comes to those that don’t wish for it. So I gave up the fight, tears flowing freely with my eyes clenched shut. Willing my mind to take me somewhere else till this was over. Willing my body to feel nothing but numb. * My mind filled with memories of my childhood; secretly getting drunk with my girlfriends in the stables. My brothers teaching me how to climb trees. Me and my father coming home after a successful hunt. My mother delicately brushing though my hair after getting it covered in dirt. The life draining from Franks eyes with Arthurs knife plunged into his chest, my grip on the handle. Waking up at the campfire with my head on Arthurs shoulder.

The clattering sound of a loaded holster hitting the cabin floor pulled me back. But it was the not so distant sounds of gunfire that made my body stiffen again. We both halted as we stared at the door. The consistent sounds relighting the hope that had been extinguished only moments ago. Please let it be them.

“Shit!” he shouted as the distant shots got louder and louder. Shouts from the men outside quickly quietening one by one.

Unable to tear my eyes away from the door ahead.

The door burst open with a kick, a silhouette in the fading light now in its place. But I couldn’t make out who it was. If I knew them. If they knew me.

Pulled from the table and further back into the cabin, the mans grip still as brutal as he pulled me backwards and into my knees in front of him.

His staggering breath against the side of my face as we both stared at the figure. My eyes trying to focus.

The figure raised his pistol as he spoke

"Let her go." The unmistakable raspy voice spoke out in a sense of calmed urgency.

A snicker and a low sickening laugh filled my ears “Not ‘appening buddy,” he said as a hand wrapped around my throat. Tightening.

“Ya will havta shoot through her to get to me.” he laughed again.

Another figure emerged at the door with their gun raised and pointed straight at us.

Opening my mouth to shout or scream, to gasp for air as his hand tightened around my throat. My hands coming up instinctively to claw at his fingers, my lungs screaming for air. As I pulled relentlessly I felt a sharp pain in my ankle, not paying any mind as the rest of my body was throbbing and aching. But this pain was sharp, not dull.

The knife.

 I dropped my hands, reaching for the inside of my boot as quickly as possible and praying he was too preoccupied with the two others slowly making their way forwards into the small cabin. Their spurs on the wood floor and my strangled cry for air being the only sound the fill the area. I pulled the handle, far enough to grip it completely in both hands. My vision, still blurry, now darkening around the edges. I pushed myself to the side, letting gravity do the work as I twisted the knife upwards and drove it up beside my head with whatever meagre strength I had left.

Resistance. Then the familiar feeling of warm fresh blood covered my hands.

Dropping to the floor I wheezed for breath, my vision still darkening. Flashes of light and shots the only things that kept me from slipping.

Gentle hands were on me in an instant. Voices gradually fading back and becoming more clear with every burning breath that filled my lungs.

“Bella! Bella, can you hear me?”

“Arthur?” I wheezed

“Yeah darlin it’s me. Yer safe now.” He lifted me in his arms then my hands were cut free. All thoughts of my current state and decency out of my mind. My senses still foggy and the overwhelming urge to sleep overcoming me as I tried to keep my eyes open.

“I - I thought-”

“Shh it’s okay,” he soothed, moving some hair out of my face. My body groaned in protest as he gently snaked his arms under my legs and lifted me to him as he stood. I didn’t think I’d have the energy to cry again, but the tears flowed freely once more. This time in relief.

“Let’s get you home.”

@kashasenpai​

[paipayaseeds]

Time seemed to stop as Kaede stood by a frightened Tenko, her hand covering her mouth at the horrible sight in front of her. Staring at a reality she couldn't believe existed.

⚠️Blood Warning! ⚠️

In front of her was...

The body of The Ultimate Violinist: Anya Hoshiyama.

*Insert the dingy dong bingo Body Discovery*

She was a timid girl, and though she had slapped Kokichi, she didn't seem to have a mean bone in her body.. Something that might've been taken advantage of in her last moments.

Kaede couldn't lie to herself,

She did consider at one point that Anya would be a possible target but.. Hell did someone exploit that or.. Was she..—

"M-Ms..Anya?" Keebo would stare down at the body, having been about to touch it but, he decided against it and backed away.

"This logic doesn't make any sense! Anya was with us in the game room not too long ago right? My processor isn't frying?"The robot seemed genuinely confused, yet distressed at the same time, their hand placed upon their head in thought as they turned away from the body. As he did Miu had strolled in, yelling just like Tenko before looking at Anya's corpse.

"Wh-What the fuck?! The nerd isn't dead is she??.. She.. Is she sleeping or something?"

Ryoma had arrived with Kirumi, pulling his beanie down at the sight. "Poor kid didn't deserve something that messy. Geesh.."

"May her soul rest and be guided by the hands of the Atua.." Angus began, a smile still somehow on her face as she raised her hands in a prayer above her head, seemingly humming.

"G-Gonta will be right back."

Before Kaede could stop the big lug.. He had already been out through one of the doors, sighing.

'Wait..wheres Rantaro what... What's he gonna do when he finds-'

As Shuichi and Rantaro barged in, Rantaro practically threw himself off Shuichi, deciding that no, he wouldn't need support anymore and that no, his possible concussion would not overtake his brotherly need to check if Anya was okay. That scream couldn't mean anything good.

"Rantaro, careful-!" Stumbling towards the crowd of people, he ignored Shuichi's call, "W- where's Anya—!?" finally shoving through a few disarrayed people, he almost fell forward onto his face from the force.

Dread and horror dawned over the already panicked boy—and without thinking, he scrambled to her side, desperately shaking her as if she had just been sleeping in the library, on the ground, with blood around her.

He... was sure she was fine, right?

He didn't lose her, right?

"A- Anya, wake up!" With his voice shaky and scared, akin to his hands and body, he kept shaking her frantically. "A- Anya—?" His movements slowed, and a feeling of cold, hard realization hit him like a truck—delayed as he tried to prolong his denial.

She was dead.

Rantaro sat there in silence, letting quiet tears fall as he stared at the girl who had been alive mere seconds ago. Was this really happening? Wasn't this just a dream?

"Is the game... over? Was she... was she the mastermind?" Shuichi addressed the elephant in the silent room—silent other than Rantaro's quiet crying.

Rantaro wiped his face with his now blood-stained hands, standing up as he refuted the detective's remark in a fit of unreasonable anger. “N- no, she wasn’t— She wasn’t the mastermind! You- To assume that you’d have to be clinically insane!” He frantically threw his arms around in a fit of rage, a vein popping out in his neck; were they actually serious? She couldn’t have been the mastermind... right? No, you can’t doubt her! She wasn’t the mastermind because...! Because...?

A small part of him felt betrayed; had she really been the mastermind? Was the whole game... over? But at what cost? Her life? That... Rantaro refused to believe that was the truth.

Though a much bigger part of him trusted her, believed in her, even when she laid limp and lifeless on the ground. He denied that possibility with fervour, and he would never accept that possible truth.

"C- calm down, Rantaro, we still need to keep a level head! I-I'm sure Anya wasn't the.. The mastermind...! We- we just need to figure out what happened!" It was funny that he of all people had been saying that; as if he hadn't just been suppressing the urge to puke and sob all at the same time.

The angered, and borderline heart-broken male, directed his attention to Kaito instead, and it was like the air shifted as soon as his green gaze focused on Kaito's purple one. "Kaito, you..." He clenched his fists, swallowing down the urge to just attack the confused yet fearful astronaut.

"You were with Anya the moment I left, w- what did you do? I leave for one second, and she's dead! She's...! She's dead!" Kaito flinched at the cold, hard truth Rantaro had spat in his face, shrinking as he let the words process in his mind.

It seemed that his attempt to calm down had been futile as he launched himself towards Kaito, a finger jabbed in the taller male's chest. "This is all your fault!" Kaito furrowed his brow, calm and level-headed flew out the window as Rantaro accused him of murder.

Staring him down with an exasperated gaze, Kaito loomed over Rantaro and defended himself. "... What's your problem with me, huh, Rantaro? How the hell is it my fault? What if it's yours? Why the hell did you leave in the first place, huh!? I find it awfully suspicious that you-!" Shoving him away from his chest sharply, Kaito stepped forward. "—Of all places, had been found outside the library door!"

Inhaling sharply, he continued, words he didn't mean spilling out of his mouth without control. Kaito was upset—no, Kaito was beyond upset; to witness the girl he hadn't even... the girl he loved, die, only to be accused of her murderer seconds later? How was any of this fair?

"Did you- did you love her? Did you really? Because if you truly loved her, you wouldn't have let her die!" Kaito's eyes glossed over for a split-second, but before he could let any tears fall, he brought an arm up to wipe them away.

Rantaro's eyes narrowed, as he mistakenly overlooked the astronaut's tears, he assumed the boy hadn't been nearly as upset as Rantaro—but God, could that be any farther from the truth. The green-haired boy stayed scarily silent, leaving Kaito with an unsettling glare before walking away and finding his spot next to a bookshelf, swollen eyes glaring at the wall in front of him as he couldn't find it in him to look at Anya's lifeless body.

He couldn't help but wonder if Kaito's words had been true.

His breath hitched as he felt a small folded paper in his pocket(i don't remember if she put it in his pocket :')), eyes widening just a slight as he took it out discreetly as to make sure no one else could see. As his confused and hopeful gaze scanned the page carefully and quick, Rantaro swears he could hear his heart crumbling within each line he went over.

Losing feeling in his legs, he slumped against the bookcase, coughing out a dazed breath as he creased the paper slightly with his fingers. She... wasn't the mastermind.

This was good news, right?

... But why did it hurt more?

As if the air couldn't get any thicker, Kaito immediately turned on his heel and left the library to go and... think, the loud sound of the doors closing behind him making Shuichi flinch—The astronaut passed by the confused group of people, who had slowed their dash as they ran into the library.

As everyone remained silent and tense, Kirumi had been one of the first ones to make a move towards Anya. Kneeling down next to the girl's body, she refused her need to weep and settled for closing her eyes and leaving her hand on Anya's bloodied head. With her eyebrows furrowed, she apologized under her breath to the girl who probably couldn't hear her. "I'm sorry I failed you."

[authorgreybrooke]

A Temporary Batwoman

The Wayne manor was large and dark, iron and oak sealed together in a gothic style, stiff carpet, and creaky floorboards. The paintings that sat on the main walls dominated the rooms, dust-covered, dank, oil paintings of people and events long dead, with eyes that followed guests from room to room. The moonlight cast long shadows that looked like demons about the place, twisted silhouettes of a centuries-old armchair or an obnoxiously tall candle stand.

Alex Danvers cautiously stepped through the foyer, eyeing the decor with a detective's natural suspicion, her hand hovered by her hip as shadowy imaginary monsters loomed. Thunder struck, and Alex jolted and squeaked, and then cursed herself for being afraid of nothing. 

"Who are you?"

"Holy shh!" Alex spun around. "Dude. Not cool."

Luke folded his arms. "What are you doing here?"

The agent withdrew her identification and waved it at the man. "Relax. I'm a cop. Kate said I could crash here if I ever needed to get away. I didn't think anyone else would be here."

"Special agent Alexandra Danvers." Luke narrowed his eyes. "Any relation to Kara Danvers?"

"My sister."

Luke sighed. "So Kate just leaves, and lets National City hero's come in and take over. Great. Just great."

"Hey, I'm not here to take over anything. I just. I wanted to. I needed a break. Okay, a break."

Luke shook his head and stormed off down a dark hallway.

"Hey, wait!"

"Unbelievable!"

Alex turned a corner and lost the disgruntled fellow for a moment, before hearing him cuss and stomp up a staircase, already feeling lost in the labyrinth she quickly followed.

"Hey, wait up!"

"Gotham City is in disarray! I don't have time to babysit."

"I don't really need a babysitter."

"What we're you thinking, Kate?"

"I think she was thinking that there was, like, eighteen spare rooms in this place."

Luke barged into an office and stopped by a bookcase, he raised his hand hesitantly to a display case that sat on a shelf.

"Look, maybe we can call Kate? If it's too much drama I can head back in the morning. Just don't freak out."

"I think you're the one who's about to freak out."

"What?"

Luke twisted the display and the bookcase shifted, revealing a secret elevator.

"Wow. That was unexpected."

The Bat Cave was a dark hole in the earth, with black stone and squeaky creatures, and yet and entire computer laboratory had been designed to run in its confines. Alex noticed air vents and ramps and a platform where a vehicle rested, she heard water trickling somewhere and the hum of the massive computer.

"This is insane. Then again, the DEO was basically the same thing, just less...scary."

A tall case, resting inside one of the cave walls, lit up to show the legendary Bat Woman costume secured on a stand. Alex approached with wide eyes.

"I like those colours. I mean, I've seen Batwoman on the news but up close -- that is a really nice red."

"There's a protest at the courthouse. It bound to get ugly. The Bat-Signal has been shining for days. People need to see Batwoman."

"Wait. What are you suggesting?"

"Suit up."

Alex laughed. "No. No. No, that's not why I'm here."

"Then why are you here?" Luke challenged.

"To get away. From life. I feel like a haven't had a moment to be just me."

"And who are you?"

Alex paused. "I don't know."

"Sounds complicated." Luke walked up to the display case and tapped on the glass. "Wouldn't it be fun to be a hero for a bit. Just one night even. The city gets a bit of hope and you get..."

"I get to not be Alex Danvers. Just for a night."

"Hmm."

"Sounds like escapism."

"Some of us play World of Warcraft. This is better."

"Just a night."

"Maybe the weekend."

"I do have the week off work."

"So what do you say?"

The Bat-Signal shone red in an otherwise black sky, the only light amongst black buildings and dark streets. Gotham Police camped around the place as a crowd cheered angrily in front of the courthouse, they held up signs and screamed profanities at a judge as he was escorted to a police vehicle.

A Batwoman sat atop a nearby building and surveyed the area.

"These night-vision specs are insane!"

"Thank you." Luke smiled from his place in the Bat-Cave, tapping away on the computer.

"Hey, what does the little canister do?"

"Don't push any buttons if you don't know how to use those devices."

"You're no fun."

"You're here to show the people of Gotham that Batwoman is still around, and if Batwoman has to get rescued because she teargassed herself then fell a hundred feet..."

"Got it. Not touching the little canister. I am a trained agent you know?"

"You have never used my gadgets."

"Who are the mercenary-looking guys?"

Luke glanced at the screen showing what Batwoman was observing. "They are Crows. Military. They were brought in to help Gotham almost a decade ago."

The Crows stood like statues as the mob of citizens stomped and screamed. The judge was slowly taken away and the crowed deflated minutely.

Alex sighed. "Well, that was anti-climatic."

"Oh, sorry you didn't get a full riot."

"You know what I mean. You gave me this whole speech about being a hero for a little bit and I haven't done anything yet."

"There's a robbery-in-progress at sixth and Cornwell."

"I'll take it!"

For the next week, the Gotham news was dominated with a three-second clip of Batwoman sparta-kicking a thug wielding a baseball bat.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Lavender Tea

A year after the end of Black Coffee, Percy is thinking about his next steps with Vax'ildan. And he decides he needs to talk to his best friend.

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

When Percy opened his eyes and all he saw was a blind, total darkness, he was scared for a moment.

But slowly, surely, reassuringly, the room began to come into focus around him. What was complete blackness before became shades, shapes just visible in the gloom. The rocking chair, the bookcase, piles of clothes on the floor, the posters on the wall for old films Percy hadn’t actually seen but wanted to one day.

Vax’s room.

And Vax himself in his arms, shifting a little in response to Percy’s sudden jolt. He murmured softly, black hair fallen across his face, stretching a little so his warm, bare skin moved against Percy’s before settling back into the depths of his sleep.

Suddenly, his moment of fear seemed so stupid. How could he be afraid when he had Vax sleeping beside him? How could anything be less than perfect?

Percy smiled and gently moved the hair away from his boyfriend’s face, not wanting to wake him but also knowing he hated it when he started the day with a mouthful of his own hair. Then he kissed him, feather light against his jaw. Just because he could.

Now aware and awake, Percy knew there was very little chance of him getting back to sleep. He was horrible at settling back down once he anything shook him out of his dreams, even now when the darkness spoke of an hour nowhere near dawn, let alone their alarm. It was like his brain always kicked immediately into overdrive, as soon as his eyes opened, running at a million miles an hour whenever it wasn’t tied down by sleep.

Percy really disliked his own mind sometimes.

Sighing, he realised he may as well make the effort. He knew Vax kept a wide array of teas in the kitchen, baffling Percy who had always thought tea just came in one flavour with Earl Grey for very special occasions. One of them must have something in it to knock him out.

Disentangling himself from his boyfriend was easier said than done. Vax always spread himself out as haphazardly as possible and seemed to have some kind of magnetic attraction to Percy’s body heat, clinging to him like a starfish to a rock. The soft little whimpers and whines Vax made nearly broke his heart but he promised himself that it wouldn’t be long.

He knew his boyfriend was shy about his apartment, thinking it small and poky compared to his own. But honestly, Percy felt more at home here than he ever had in his penthouse. There he was surrounded by silence, rattling around like a doll in a playhouse that was far too big for it. Here he had to dodge other people’s shoes as he stepped into the hallway, there were coats hung up on pegs alongside his own, it all smelled of cinnamon and apples from the many candles Vex bought and clustered on the fireplace.

It was a home. And the more time he spent there, the more he felt like it could be his home too.

He hummed softly to himself as he took a mug from the cupboard and moved to try and figure out which of the boxes contained tea bags that would knock him out and not taste like a mouthful of garden.

“Purple…” he muttered, voice thick and sleepy, turning one of the boxes over in his hands, “What the hell kind of tea is purple…”

“It’s lavender, Perce.”

Percy made a very undignified squeaking noise, slammed one hip into the counter as he turned and had to fight not to crumble to the floor.

Keyleth watched him with a wince, standing there awkwardly in nothing but an oversized t-shirt that was clearly Vex’ahlia’s, her mane of red hair in complete disarray, an empty glass in her hand.

As much as Percy didn’t want to think about it, she’d clearly just come from the exact same situation with one twin as he had from the other, a night of sleep following an awful lot of sex.

“Um…” Percy felt his cheeks radiating heat, “Should we...high five or something?”

Kiki gave a nervous giggle, “I think we can leave it implied. I thought you were taking Vax over to your place?”

“And I thought you two were sleeping at yours.”

“We should make a rota.”

Percy had to laugh, despite the fact that he was in nothing but his boxer shorts in front of his best friend. Sure, she’d seen him in a state of undress before but it had never been his finest hours.

“Lavender tea will make me sleepy, right?” he decided just to go for it, sniffing at one of the tea bags, relieved to see they weren’t actually purple.

“Definitely,” Kiki nodded, moving to the sink and filling her glass, “I’ll take one, if you’re offering?”

Percy nodded, grabbing a second mug and filling them both with steaming water once the kettle filled it’s end of the bargain. After the awkwardness had faded, it was actually quite nice. He couldn’t ever feel anything but relaxed around Keyleth, they’d known each other for too long.

And the two of them sitting in companionable, familiar silence in the flat of the only two people they loved more than each other, there was something very homely about it. It felt like family.

Percy smiled into his mug at that thought. That was the idea, he supposed, if this was going to work out.

Kiki lingered, leaning against the counter and cupping her own mug, inhaling the steam. She didn’t seem to want to break their lovely little moment either.

“Hey, Kiki?” Percy finally said, a strange kind of bravery stealing up on him from the comfort of it all, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure?” she hummed, still looking down at her tea, exhaling softly so the steam suddenly twisted and took shape in the air, becoming translucent, barely there flowering vines.

Percy chuckled softly as the vines reached out, much further than steam normally would, and twisted around his hand, leaving a nice warm sensation as they dissipated, “Clever… um, so, I’ve been turning this idea around in my head and I need you to tell me if it’s totally crazy or if I should go for it.”

“Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive,” Kiki grinned at him, showing a glimmer of the mischievous side few people would think lived behind such a sweet face.

“They are in this case,” Percy set his mug down and took a deep breath, realising he was actually going to have to put this into words and make it real, “So do you think...do you think it would be a good idea if I asked Vax...a particular question…”

She was already smiling as he stammered his way through it, her eyes widening and starting to shine.

“Oh, Kiki, you know what I’m trying to say, put me out of my misery!”

Laughing, she abandoned her mug and flew across the room to throw her arms around him, nearly sending them toppling onto the floor.

“Shh!” Percy desperately tried to hush her in between his own delighted laughter, “Don’t wake them! Either of them!”

Keyleth nodded, stifling her grin behind her hand, “You mean it? You’re going to marry him?”

“Well, he has to say yes first,” Percy blushed, “You think he will?”

“Of course he’ll say yes,” Keyleth said with perfect confidence, her smile a million watts.

Percy smiled, wishing he could be as certain as she was. But, he had to admit, it did feel wonderful to say it out loud. It felt right.

“Okay, lavender tea’s kicking in,” Percy chuckled, kissing Keyleth’s cheek and nudging her back to her feet, “I’ll see you at a more appropriate hour.”

“Go back to your fiance, dear,” Keyleth smiled, waving him off as she headed back to Vex’s room to do things he didn’t want to think about.

“Shh!” Percy hissed helplessly, rolling his eyes and heading the opposite way down the corridor, being sure to close the door quietly but firmly.

Sinking back into the slightly sagging but still very comfortable bed, feeling Vax immediately melt around him and settle happily against his chest was heavenly. He smiled and inhaled deeply, loving the scent of his overnight hair treatment, the smell that got caught on his clothes and made him remember soft moments like this.

He let himself think it. My husband.

He grinned so hard it hurt.

It felt right.