strange color blue


Sometimes I just want my gays happy and kissing in dramatic lighting. It is all I need.

If Yall haven’t already read it, @littlefists Tuckington fic Put my Guns in the Ground it sooooooooo great and gives me a lot of feelings for these two, especially the last two chapters. Read it read it read it.  

(P.s. Yall can see wash’s dimple, congrats)

Back to the Past (Hamilton x Reader) 4

Words: tbh does anyone even care lol

Tags:  @ghcstflower @mehrmonga @princessoftrash1234 @theamazingfeministunicorn@caswhatareyoudoingstahp @fanagelbagel @the-founding-fuckboys @batgurl32467@21phantasticromances @live-to-the-fullest18 @looneylovegoodx @onelastfic @sbobsessions @gonnamurderyou @goldensabriel @chvck-shvrley @insane-hamilton-imagines @justfangirlingaround

Warnings: nonneeeee

A/N: sorry i am taking so long to update, you know me (or well, you should know me by now) anywhoo, this was really fun to write and i hope you like it

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

She guided the five of you into a small room, with a round table. You were nervous, your hands shaking. It’s not like magic was not discussed in your time, it was just not real. And the fact that she knew your name scared you, a lot. Hamilton looked over at you, noticing your trembling. He touched your hand, squeezing your fingers.

I’m here. He mumbled to you, giving you a sideways smile. His arm brushed against yours. You smiled back, turning to look back at the woman.

Her hair was long, almost reaching the floor. It was a strange color, a dark blue, with flicks of blonde. You got a sick feeling in your gut, and you felt like something was wrong. She did not look familiar, but you felt like she was untrustworthy, like you should run away. But the boys wanted to help you, and this was the best shot that you could take. It was your only chance on getting home and seeing your family and friends again. 

And finally take a hot shower.

She grabbed some mixtures, and passed a small mug to each of us. Lafayette sniffed it, his nose wrinkling in disgust. Laurens coughed, pushing it farther away from him. Mulligan looked into his, his eyes widening. You let go of Hamilton’s hands, looking at the puke green substance in yours. Hamilton’s was a bright blue, contrasting to yours.

“Not to be rude, but, what is this?” Laurens asked, eyeing his cup. The woman laughed, drinking hers quickly.

“It allows me to read whatever might come your way. This is a way for me to find out how Miss Y/N can get back home. Please, drink. It will not harm you.” The way she said her last words, made you slightly suspicious. You hesitated, looking at the color. Why did each of you get a different liquid? Shouldn’t it all be the same?

“I, how do I know if I can trust you?” You asked her.

“The lady seems trustworthy to me!” Mulligan said, the first to drink his. You widened your eyes, and he burped, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. His was red, staining the blue he wore. Lafayette looked at his friend, then at you. He drank his soon after, not making as much of a mess as Mulligan. Laurens did so, and Hamilton looked at you, drinking his. The woman looked at you, gesturing for you to drink yours.

You held your nose, drinking it on one go. It tasted like copper being poured down your throat. It was extremely cold, and you shivered, placing the cup on the table. The woman looked at all of you, smiling.

“The reason there was separate drinks for all of you, was to match your personality. Laurens’s was for Ambition, Hamilton’s was for Intelligence, Lafayette’s was for Valiance and Mulligan’s was for Meticulous. You, Y/N, was for Humility.” You still felt like she was not truthful. None of this makes any sense, and she’s not helping you. It seems more like she’s tricking you.

You looked over at Hamilton for confirmation on your feelings, but he was staring at her intently, not questioning anything. You felt your negative feelings slowly slip away, and you panicked. She looked at you, smirking.

“Miss Y/N, do you have something to say?” You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. You held your neck, confused. What the hell did she give you? “Now, everyone, I have to ask you a few questions. Hamilton, since you have met Y/N, have you believed her to speak the truth?”

You looked at Hamilton, and he seemed to be in a dream-like state, not even glancing your way. “I was confused, when I first met Y/N. I thought she was some sort of escort, but after speaking to her for a few minutes, I knew she was truthful. I trust her with every fiber in my being. I, I do not want her to leave, but if that is what she wants, then it must be done.” Your heart swelled at his confession. He wanted you to stay.


Your voice was still stuck, unable to say anything. You wondered why she did this to you all, since they were in fact cooperating. The woman then turned to Mulligan, a smirk on her face.

“What about you, Mulligan? How do you feel about Y/N?” She dropped the miss from your name quickly, her fingers tapping on the table. You tried lunging out of your chair, but to no avail, your bottom stuck to the seat. Mulligan laughed, looking directly at you. You hoped that he wasn’t in a trance like the rest of the boys, but when his eyes met yours, they were glazed over.

“Y/N is one of the most beautiful women I have ever met. Why would I not trust her? She is captivating. But I see the way she looks at Hamilton, I know she would not look at me the same. I’m not giving up, though.” He puffed out his chest, winking at you once. Your eyes widened. Mulligan liked you?

“Lafayette?” The woman asked, a grin appearing on her face. She was amused, listening to these men speak against their will. It was entertainment to her. You shaped your hands into fists, glaring at her. She barely glanced your way.

“Miss Y/N? She is interesting woman, very much. I, I am giving my trust to her.” He smiled. Even in the state that he was in, he still spoke broken English.

“Laurens? Last but not least?”

“Ahh, Y/N? I consider her my best friend already! She’s funny, she’s snarky, and she’s smart! Who wouldn’t trust her? She even believes in my idea to make the first black battalion!” He grinned, his smile from cheek to cheek.

The woman finally looked at you, pulling her hair back against her shoulder. “So, Y/N, it seems you have grabbed all of these handsome men, huh? You’ve barely known them for little over a day. What did you do?” She willed you to speak, and you were finally able to, glaring at her.

“Who do you think you are? Manipulating them this way? They just came to help me, no need to make them spill their guts.” She rolled her eyes at your spoken word, standing up from her chair.

“Oh, you poor child. Is this not how it works in the future? If you want something, you must give something in return. How about it?” She wiggled her eyebrows at you.

“What makes you think I would give anything to you?” She laughed manically, her grin seeming to break her face. You tensed up, unsure. Mulligan dragged all of you into this mess, and you had no idea what you were dealing with. Honestly, you were just saying what a hero would say on movies that you watch. It seemed to work, though.

“Since I have you friends stuck in this state. So are you, by the way. I can make you talk, and I can stop it. Now, are you willing to pay for the information?” You debated in your head. You looked at all the boys, then looked at Hamilton next to you. He had a small smile on his face, but his eyes were empty, his personality gone. You couldn’t leave them like this, you had to help them. They came here to assist you on getting home, and they did not need this in their lives. They deserved more.

“What do you want me to do?” You asked, and she nodded slowly.

“I’ll give you a clue on getting home, and, in return, I’ll make Alexander Hamilton slowly hate you. It’ll start as soon as I give you the cure for them. You have to see him hate every piece of you, hate everything you touch and everyone you encounter.” She grinned.

“Why? How could this help you? Why do you want this?”

“Because, I want you to suffer. I want you to feel what I felt, when you did the same to me.” She sneered, an evil spark in her eye. You stared at her, more confused than ever. Who is she? You just met her today, what could you possibly do to hurt her?

But the way she stared at you, the way she looked at you as if you two had a history, made you think otherwise.

“Did we meet before?” She laughed, giving you a small bottle. You looked inside, seeing a clear liquid. Before you could ask anything else, she disappeared, leaving you alone with the three men. You gave the substance to the men. They blinked, rubbing their heads. Hamilton was the first to stare at you, confused.

“What happened, Y/N? How did we get here?” She was right, they did not remember a thing.

“We were just taking a walk, and you brought me here. Mulligan said that he knew someone that could help me, but we walked in, and no one was here.” You glanced around the room, seeing nothing but empty shelves and broken furniture. The only thing that was the same was the table in front of you.

Mulligan dragged himself over to the two of you, rubbing his temple. “This headache is killing me. Let’s go back to camp, before Washington really tears us a new one.”

“Agreed.” Lafayette said, patting Laurens on the shoulder. Laurens groaned, and you all walked out the house, closing the door behind you.

You put the container you had in your pocket, walking alongside Hamilton. He was standing with a foot between the two of you, completely different from when you all were sitting at the table. You wondered if this was just the beginning of the spiral that the two of you would go through. You looked at Hamilton’s face, and gave him a smile. He gave you a small nod, the smile on his face unseen.

Your heart was in your throat, and you turned away from him.

The five of you made it back to the camp quickly, making it just before six in the morning. The boys ran off to their tents to change into their uniforms, and you stayed behind, sitting outside Hamilton’s tent. You wanted to talk to him, you wanted to see if the curse that that witch said was true, but he seemed to avoid you, like the day before was just another.

Mulligan still joked with you as much as before, and you clung to him instead, ignoring the ache in your heart. After a few days of silence and quiet tents, Hamilton sighed, looking at you sitting on the makeshift bed. He didn’t bother moving you like he did before.

“Y/N?” He said, finally speaking to you after a week. He dropped the miss right after he woke from the magic, and you pretended that he just actually listened to your requests. You jumped at the opportunity, smiling at him.

“Yes?” You asked.

“Did you ever think about moving to the other men’s tents? It’s not like we are friends, and you have grown to be quite a nuisance.” Your smile faltered, looking at him. He looked annoyed, different from the man you met not too long ago.

You looked at your hands. “I have not bothered you this whole time, Hamilton. I’ve stayed quiet, I haven’t said a word. And even if I tried, you’d just ignore me.” He placed his quill on the side, staring at you.

“We have not found any clues on how to get you home. Making casual conversation is pointless, since you may be gone any day now. There is no purpose in me being kind to you, even if you are beautiful. I am attracted to intellect, not looks.” You twitched, unable to hide your frown.

You knew this was just all in his head, that this lady (who did not give you a clue to get you home yet) has done, but it hurt. He was so much kinder to you in the beginning, and seeing this side of him, it just, it hurt. “You know what, fine. I’m leaving.” You grabbed the clothes that you borrowed from him, and began walking out. Before you left, Hamilton called to you. You turned back, looking at you. He gestured towards the clothes in your hand.

“I may need those later, Y/N. You can give them back now.” You glared at him, throwing the clothes in his face. It almost touched the lit candle on the desk, and he widened his eyes. “You, you almost burned down my whole tent!”

“Good riddance.” You mumbled, walking out. You hoped he didn’t see the tears staining your cheeks.

The Tunnels (2/?)

From his spot standing beside Cor on the hard-packed dirt floor, Youngest laughed. The bright sound was shocking in the heavy silence. “No wonder Prior knew about this place. The drama department must hang out down here all the time.” He pointed to their source of light, wall sconces with heavy torches that burned a strange blue color. “Who else is crazy enough to leave an open flame like that?”

“Do me a favor and shut up,” Cor snarled, squinting as she tried to make out anything beyond their five-foot bubble of light. “Look, these places run on rules, okay? What time would you say it was when we fell?”

At her angry tone and furtive glances, Youngest’s eyebrows rose. “I dunno. A little after noon, maybe?” He reached for his phone. “It’s only been a few minutes since you grabbed me.” Pushing the center button on his cell, he frowned and muttered, “Okay, I know I plugged this in before I sacked out last night, so why’s it acting like the battery’s dead?”

Cor, who had backed up until she felt her shoulder blades brush the wall, rolled her eyes. “It’s not going to work ‘til we get back Above. So how about you quit messing with it and focus,” she suggested shortly. “We have no guarantee how long it’s been. Time works differently here.”

Shoving his phone in his pocket, Youngest asked, “Is that a physics joke?”

Still trying to see into the darkness in either direction, Cor twisted one of her iron rings. (Left middle finger. They were all polished until they shone, but this one was what she played with when her anxiety spiked. It was stamped with the Elder Futhark rune, alternately called kaunan or kenaz.) She shook her head. “Look, this is what it boils down to - if we don’t make it back to campus by 3 AM, we’re fucked.”

Turning fully to face her, Youngest tiled his head. “3AM?”

Shoulders slumping in exasperation, Cor held in a scream. “Where is your family even from?”

“Pittsburgh,” he answered flatly.

“No, before that,” she prodded. “Doesn’t your family have stories that get passed down, generation to generation? Ghost stories, or ancestral tales or warnings?”

Youngest shook his head in confusion. “My grandpa set a barn on fire when he was a kid,” he offered.

Tugging the ring nearly off before shoving it securely back on again, Cor considered praying for patience. She caught herself before she could so much as silently wish. (You never knew who might be listening, and eager to deal.) “My mom’s side has stories going back to 13th century Wales, and my dad was descended from vikings, so their family epics reach even further through history. Which means I know a thing or two about the old ways.”

At her pronouncement, Youngest threw up his hands. “So?”

“So 3 AM is the witching hour,” she clarified. “A time of death and birth, when the veil is thin and magic is strongest.”

“Magic,” he repeated, deadpan. “Are you kidding me right now?”

Incredulous, Cor stared, before bursting out, “You got to a school infested with the Fair Folk!” She could hear her voice growing louder, could feel her gestures becoming wider, but couldn’t seem to calm down. “Bojangles is right outside the campus library, busking half the week! How the hell could you possibly miss the thing with an alligator’s head, skeletal hands, a brown suit that looks like it was made out of skin, and it plays nothing but In the Hall of the Mountain King, repeatedly, on an accordion?

Lip curling up, Youngest scoffed. “That dude’s a cosplayer, or something. A furry, maybe? Anyway, did you just say Fair Folk? Like… fairies?” He studied her like he was waiting for proof of insanity and leaned away. “Cor, fairies aren’t real. They’re stories, moral lesson wrapped in allegories to teach dumb kids right from wrong and not to follow strangers around grocery stores.”

Cor wrapped her arms tighter around herself at his dismissive words, and the condescending tone wasn’t helping with the panic attack threatening to crush her lungs. “For the love of god, would you please shut the hell up before you get us both killed?”

Seeing her struggle to breathe, the way her chest rose and fell but Cor still couldn’t seem to get enough air, Youngest held out his hands. “Okay, no need to freak. …fairies.”

Shutting her eyes for half a second, she pulled her hands away from her body to run over her fanny pack again and clicked the stud in her tongue against the roof of her mouth, Cor forced herself to ignore her fear and focus on anger. When her eyes darted back to Youngest, she glared. “The Fair Ones, the Good Neighbours, the Kindly Gentlefolk, or the Gentry, okay? Calling them something else will be perceived as a discourtesy or a challenge, and we’re already up shit creak without a paddle. Let’s not make it worse.”

“Sure,” he bit out. “The Gentry. Now, why do we have to get out of here by 3?”

Cor knew he wasn’t taking her seriously, but she would gladly put up with his patronizing tone if they could just work together to make it out in time. Tapping her foot against the floor, both reassured and terrified of the jingling confirmation of her anklet, she explained. “If we’re still Underhill at 3, we’ll be bound here. For a year and a day. And considering we’re mortals, the food situation, and the fact that you don’t know a thing about the rules down here, I doubt we’d last a week. Even if we did…” She shook her head and bit her lip. “Say we survive that long, don’t get tangled up in any oaths or power plays, find a trustworthy source of mortal food, make it back to the surface, we’d still come back changed.”

Taking in her grave expression, and the way her voice shook on the last word, Youngest blinked. Hushed, he said, “You’re serious.”

“And well versed,” something spoke from their left, the remark tripping out in a sibilant hiss that echoed in the close space.

As Youngest spun to face the it, Cor leaned her head back against the wall and whispered, “Godfuckingdammit.”


(Jared Leto) Joker Imagine

Request: Can someone who writes joker imagines write one where during a robbery or something he sees a girl thats in a wheelchair and he is drawn to her please you can make it up how ever you want.. i myself am in a wheelchair and i haven’t seen any joker imagines like that i just think it would interesting how he would handle it.

Pairing: Joker x Reader 

Warnings: None 


A/N: So this is kind of lame and bad but I feel like the Joker would just take an avid interest in you. Idk I did my best but if there are any problems with this please let me know and I’ll do my best to fix them. 

Originally posted by i-lost-my-puddin

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You Just Left Me To Die! (Pt. 2)

Originally posted by christopher-isaac

(Part 1)

Paring: Jason Todd (Arkham Knight) x reader

GIF Credit: ^^

Warnings: Swearing, blood, and violence.

Rating: Mature

A/N: d/n (dominate hand)

It had been nine months since the Clown died. When Bruce told you, you were so happy you could barely contain yourself. Jason had been avenged, you weren’t the one that did it, but that was better than having the Joker alive. Although crime had dramatically decreased, Bruce was insistent that there was something going on. “Bruce, he’s gone,” you would say, exasperated. He just shakes his head. 

“Listen y/n, there is going to be a new leader, I need to know who before they get too much power.” You just roll your eyes. Instead of fighting crime, you would find yourself just sitting on rooftops in your costume. Currently you were sitting in your favorite part of town, Chinatown. It looked so nice and colorful with all the Halloween decorations and neon red symbols. You were lightly swinging your legs over the side of the building, listening to the hustle and bustle of Gotham at night. You were quietly humming to yourself, not loud enough to miss the light sound of someone landing behind you. If it was Dick behind you he would have said some stupid pun by now, and Bruce would have already said something grim. You feel eyes boring into your back, making you shiver slightly. 

“Y/n,” says a cold robotic voice from behind you, the word sounded slightly garbled. Your body goes stiff, and you turn around despite yourself. There stood a man, a helmet covering his face, it was a strange pale blue color. On his armored chest was the Arkham symbol, bright white against his grey armor. You quickly stand up and grab your billy clubs, ready to fight. The man doesn’t reach for the gun strapped to his leg, instead he takes a step forward.

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