#JUST GIVE THEM A SWORD AND LET THEM STAB THINGS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starry-bi-sky · 1 month

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show me how to lay my sword down long enough to let you through - clone^2 ch1

A little boy has landed in Amity Park, and he looks suspiciously like the 13-year-old Damian Wayne living in Gotham. Good news: he landed in front of Danny just as he was finishing up his fight with a ghost. Bad news: the little Damian-look-alike doesn't speak a lick of english, has a sword, and seems very keen on using it whenever he can. Against Danny specifically.

Danny already has his own issues to deal with -- like how it's not even been a year since he found out he was a clone of Bruce Wayne specifically, with all the identity issues that come with such a revelation -- and a stab-happy six year old that was very obviously a clone of Damian Wayne was not one of them. However, the kid was alone in a foreign country, and despite his hostility, it's very clear that he's terrified.

Call him a bleeding heart, but Danny takes him home.

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womp i wrote it and posted it. truly, it was only a matter of time before i did. my clone^2 au except now it's a fic! Here is the humble beginnings of this au if anyone is interested. The full thing is also posted below the read more if you want to read it here instead.

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Danny knows more than he probably should about ghosts, ectoplasm, and all things relating to it — courtesy only in partial credit to his parents and largely to every ghost, spirit, mythological creature, and conceptual entity taken sentient form he’s ever come across in the last two years of his run as Phantom.

For example: he’s learned how to classify the difference between a ghost and a spirit when the words are synonymous with each other. He knows that ghosts cannot pass into the Realm of the Living without a naturally-made or manmade portal that splits the seams between dimensions like holes being chewed through a shirt.

He knows that spirits are just weaker could-be ghosts that are trapped in the Living Realm, unseen by the Living, with unfinished business until someone can come along to help them move on. He’s helped quite a handful of them in the last two years thanks to his clairvoyance, but the city has more spirits than he could possibly know how to deal with. So his efforts are like trying to empty a pond with a bucket.

Danny still tries, anyway. One afterlife saved is one afterlife saved, right?

What he also knows is that natural made portals are exceedingly rare. That they occur when ectoplasm in any given area for some reason or another currents against each other, condensing and building in energy and density until eventually something gives and like snow on top of a roof it caves in and creates a portal.

He knows that these natural made portals typically only last a few seconds at a time, and vary between the size of a rodent and a marsupial no bigger than a wallaby. He knows that most natural portals only last from a few seconds to a few minutes, with the record-holder being five minutes from a portal that was the size of a toddler.

And the reason they never last so long is because ectoplasm is an energy, like most energy, it usually has somewhere to go. It cycles through plants, through the animals, through the ground, anywhere it can reach. It’s cousins with solar energy in that sense. Meaning it, usually, has little opportunity to clash and current with the rest of the ambient ectoplasm in the area.

But it does happen, albeit rarely, and only for a few seconds. Like the equivalent of a static shock; it’s only there for a moment before it collapses in on itself and disappears.

So with that being said, Danny likes to think he’s — maybe not an expert — but fairly knowledgeable about the existence of natural made portals. The Ever-Infinite Bridge Between Realms is ever-expanding, ever-growing, and with it so is the information he has on it. Anything could become obsolete in a moment.

And the only reason he’s thinking about it is because his parents were talking about portals in the kitchen earlier that evening, talking about their portal specifically, but Danny latched onto it, and his mind wanders. He’s not sure why they were talking about it, the portal has been running, unfortunately smoothly for the last two years. He has the scars and eyebags (and trauma) to prove it.

Besides, his mind should be on other things.

Like the goddamn flying snake he’s been chasing across the city skyline for the last thirty minutes. An amphiptere his mind unhelpfully supplies, a word he grabbed nearly two years ago when he first started out as Phantom and was desperately looking up the various ectoplasmic creatures slipping through his parents’ portal.

Some of them didn’t have proper names — like a three-eyed fox he once saw with the tail of a peacock and hooves of a goat. He managed to lure it out of the alleyway it backed itself into with a nasty burger. It tore into it with the fervor of a starving coyote and Danny let it finish eviscerating the burger before sucking it into his thermos.

It was incredibly disturbing to watch at the time, since the thing had an almost beak-shaped muzzle, but now he wishes he was back in the alleyway trying to coax out a ecto-fox-griffin thing rather than chase after what was basically a dragon with no legs — it doesn’t even have the decency to be a wyvern.

He’s only keeping up with the stupid snake due to his grappling hook, something Danny made a year ago in order to keep up with the ghosts flying around the city, and his best fucking self-made invention yet — made from the discarded inventions from his parents’ lab — with his jawbreaker gloves coming in at close second, if only because he gets to call them his jawbreakers.

(It was remarkably simpler than the grappling hook — he just reinforced the knuckles on his gloves.)

Because as much as he likes running, he was going to give himself a heart attack if he chased every ghost he came across on foot. It’d take him all night just to find one. And there was something inherently freeing in the terrifying, adrenaline-rushing sensation of soaring through the air with nothing but hard ground below and endless sky above.

The amphiptere twists its head and looks behind it, and Danny gives it a little shit-eating grin from behind his mask and a small, two fingered salute. The mane of feathers behind the snake’s head puffs up like a frilled lizard, and it opens its maw to hiss — this distorted, almost screeching sound — at him menacingly.

Danny, in response, scoffs under his breath and waves a hand in front of his nose. “Ugh.” he mutters, scrunching up his nose as the snake’s hot breath hits him square in the face. “Someone should throw you one of those dental doggie treats.”

The snake, of course, doesn’t hear him over the sound of its shrieking and the wind. When it twists back around, it dives to the ground, flicking its tail harshly like it’s hoping to hit him as it goes down.

Finally, Danny thinks, dodging out of the way with a twist of his body, and follows it down into the factorial district of Amity Park. It’s already disappeared somewhere when his feet hit the sidewalk, but the buzzing of his ghost sense still tingles on the back of his neck like a seventh sense. So it’s still nearby.

Danny’s grappling hook retracts with a quiet, zipping noise. He hooks it onto the loop of his jeans, and stalks down the side of the road.

Spirits linger beside the buildings. Men, women, and kids wearing clothes from all different time periods congregating in groups and conversing with one another, playing, watching him. Cities never sleep, they doze, and the dead come out at night when the living aren’t there to wake it up. Danny’s spoken to them many, many times.

“Excuse me.” He murmurs, tapping a man in overalls and a railroad cap on the arm. If it weren’t for his faint green glow and how he wisps at the edges, the man would almost look alive. The man turns to him, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead when he sees Danny. “Have you seen a flying snake coming through here?”

The man blinks at him, “As a matter o’ fact,” he says, adjusting the cap on his head, “I have. Flew down the road like a bat out of hell.” The man points down the street, and Danny leans around him to see. “Thought it was gonna knock me righ’ out my work boots.”

Danny presses his mouth into a thin line, making a low ‘hn’ sound in the back of his throat. “Did you see if it went into one of the buildings?” He almost hopes it did, he could probably try and sneak up on it that way. Man, he needs some kind of stunner or something.

“Right in there.” The man tells him, pointing to an old brick factory with the windows grimy and cracked. Of course, Danny sighs out of his nose. If he squints, he can see a green glow coming through the glass.

If he’s lucky, he won’t run into the Box Ghost while he’s in there. He turns to the man and nods politely, “Thank you.” And when the man nods back, Danny turns and hurries down the street. He weaves around the spirits congregating around him, he’s heard from one-too-many spirits how irritating it is to be walked through by the Living.

The door is rusted and locked when he finds an entrance, only made worse by the chain wrapped around the door for good measure, with a padlock. Of course. Rolling his eyes, Danny reaches for his pocket and pulls out a lockpick — too many times doing this has taught him to bring one along, just in case.

(Man, he was envious of ghosts’ abilities to just phase through things. It would save him a lot of trouble. And roadburns, bruises, broken bones, and every other injury known to man.)

He jams the lockpick into the padlock, jiggles it roughly, and unlocks it with a soft click. “They need better locks.” Danny mutters, pulling off the chain carefully with quiet, metallic clattering, and putting it on the ground. He jams the lockpick into the door lock, and with a little more finesse, unlocks that one too.

The door opens with a heavy creak that has Danny scrunching his shoulders up to his ears and his mouth pulling back with a sharp inhale. Shit, he freezes in place, darting his eyes around for the amphiptere.

He sees its glow off in the corner, stark ectoplasm green against the red brick walls, half hidden behind empty conveyor belts and forgotten, empty metal barrels. It doesn’t notice him, with the door open he can hear a loud crrrchk-ing followed by intermittent bangs.

It’s chewing on something, wriggling around like a cat playing with a toy mouse. Danny silently creeps in and slips through the gap between the door, closing the door behind him slowly. His eyes never leave the amphiptere. It still doesn’t notice him.

Two years isn’t that long to teach yourself how to be stealthy, but when you’re doing it every night, you learn quickly. Danny keeps himself low to the ground and his footsteps light. The amphiptere is oblivious to him; its clanging, hissing, snarling drowns out the room to any other noise.

As he gets closer, Danny unhooks his thermos again. There’s a quiet click as he opens the lid with a press of a button, and the thermos hums to life in his hand, warming up against his palm. He creeps around the conveyor belt, his breathing slow and steady.

When he reaches the amphiptere, its back is facing him. It coiled itself close to the ground, its jaw clamped around a metal barrel that’s been crushed like a tin can down the middle. Danny clenches his teeth, discomfort shivering down his spine. That could’ve been his arm had it decided to fight back.

Silently, he raises his thermos at the snake, and with his arm steady, his thumb slams one of the buttons. There’s a recoil like he’s firing a gun, and Danny finds his purchase on the ground as a beam of light lashes out and hits the snake.

The reaction is immediate. The amphiptere drops the barrel with a hideous, furious shriek and lashes out, trying to escape from the beam dragging it towards the thermos. But Danny’s long since learned that the pull of the thermos is much stronger than most ghosts, so long as he doesn’t disturb the tractor beam.

One thing is for certain — keeping the damn thing steady is one hell of a forearm workout. His arms used to shake after a fight, and they’d feel sore in the morning. Not so much anymore since Danny started working out with Sam.

(Tucker declined when they asked him if he wanted to join — he’ll stick with his tech and walking on the treadmill.)

When the amphiptere disappears inside the thermos, Danny slams the lid back on and slumps with relief. Finally, he groans quietly, clipping the thermos onto his belt and pressing his hand to his lower back to stretch. There’s a satisfying pop-pop-pop, and Danny sighs from his nose. He’s calling it a night.

He glances at the time on his phone. It was three am, fantastic. He has school in four hours.

Other than the snake, tonight had been blessedly quiet. Danny spoke to some of the spirits lingering around Third and Main downtown, got some of their information so he could start helping them with moving on — two murders and then a simple fetch quest, — chased down a few other ghosts — most of them just ecto-entities, but there was a young ghost child who he had to play hide and seek with before she would agree to be taken home in the thermos.

He also got into a fight with a fellow teen ghost who wanted to see the “Death-Touched” and if Phantom was as good a fighter as the rumors say he was. Danny’s been called “Death-Touched” since the night he snuck into the lab and released every single ghost his parents had trapped in cages, that wasn’t unsurprising. A little a lot ominous at first, but Danny is nothing if not adaptive.

He’d kicked the other teen’s ass, dragged him into the thermos, and moved on.

But other than that, tonight had been tame. So before Murphy can come and kick him in the teeth, Danny’s calling it a night.

Danny is one step towards the exit when he hears a loud, suctioning noise followed by something akin to a glacier cracking down the middle. His heart sinks instantly to his feet, and the chill of his ghost sense crawls up his throat and freezes the back of his teeth. No mist spills out, yet.

Ah, fuck. Danny stifles a groan, turning back around. There goes the rest of his night.

A portal the size of an acorn swirls into existence right before his eyes, and then rapidly grows. Swirling like a whirlpool, it grows bigger and bigger until it’s half the size of him. The bigger it gets, the tenser Danny becomes — the bigger the portal is, the bigger the ghost that can slip through gets.

Please don’t make him face the snake’s fucking cousin. Danny prays, rapidly scurrying back with his hands raised defensively. He scowls under his mask, and waits tersely for something to fall through. Whatever comes through, he hopes it’s friendly. Or slow. Or maybe both.

Danny doesn’t get another winged snake.

Instead, a child stumbles out of the portal. A non-glowing, living-colored child who couldn’t be any older than six, and who rapidly spits out a phrase in a language Danny doesn’t catch. Danny’s hands drop slightly from his side, bewilderment settling in the back of his throat.

As the child rights himself, the portal dissipates behind him with a hissing sigh. It takes Danny’s ghost sense with it, and the chill evaporates from his mouth.

Oh, oh no.

Danny’s heart drops from his feet straight into the ground. Six feet into the ground. Oh, fuck.

That was a living child. That was a living child. That was a whole-ass living child.

If natural portals were rare, then whatever the hell this was — teleportals, Vlad’s teleports, whatever — was unheard of. The only time he’s seen a portal that transported someone from one place to another on the same plane of existence was Vlad. His man-made teleportals.

Natural portals between one place to another? He’s never heard of such a thing. And one just opened in front of him and spat out a child. A human, living child. A portal just kidnapped a child.

A child who, Danny realizes, is holding a sword. A katana, of all things. One that was designed to match his size. A child who was, for a lack of better words, wearing something Danny would expect a ninja to wear. A child who was dressed from head to toe in black.

A child who looks suspiciously like a baby-faced Damian Wayne. Brown skin and green eyes and all, but with youth still clinging to his cheeks. It couldn’t be Damian Wayne himself — that boy was thirteen, and Danny would’ve heard from Sam if something happened to him.

So this meant either two things: Damian Wayne was just now turned into a child and dropped into Danny’s lap, or this was a clone of Damian Wayne. Danny was thinking it might’ve been the latter.

Fuck you, Murphy, he thinks instantly, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. This was mean.

He stares, uncertainty — and perhaps a little bit of nausea — forming a pit in his chest, as the child makes eye contact with him. The air is silent and thick — with dust, asbestos, or just the silence, Danny isn’t sure. Maybe all three. But they stare at each other for a long, suffocating moment.

Then the kid — Damian — lunges at him, his sword quickly unsheathed.

“Shit!” Danny dives back, just barely dodging being grazed by the gleaming blade. That was fast. Danny isn’t around living kids often but that was too fast, that much he knows. Kids don’t move that fast on their own. Not without being taught.

Damian spits something at him in that foreign language, his face twisting with anger, and the kid turns himself and lunges once again. Danny dodges again, swatting the sword away reflexively with the side of his gloved hand.

“I can’t understand you.” He tells him, his voice comes out rougher than he meant it to, and it comes out muffled from his mask. Please tell me you know English, he hopes, hopping up onto the old conveyor belt.

“'Akhbirni 'ayn 'ana walan 'aqtulak.” Damian snarls, chasing up after him with worrying ease. Danny swats away another stab at him, frowning when the blade leaves a cut in his leather glove. It doesn’t reach skin, but the fact of the matter is that Damian still cut his glove.

He doesn’t know English either, great. Perfect. Fantastic, even. Danny backs up on the conveyor belt, twisting away from Damian’s attacks with… well, not relative ease, the kid is faster than Danny’s expecting, but he’s not getting hits in. So some ease.

But Danny’s been fighting ghosts for the last two years. Fighting entities capable of moving at the speed of light leaves you with quick reflexes and even quicker eyes. Damian jumps up to try and kick him in the face, and Danny ducks down and dashes off the conveyor belt, hopping to the next one over.

When his feet hit the belt, he uses the momentum to leap up onto a rusty shelf. His fingers dig into the sides, and he climbs, vaulting his legs up to the top once he’s high enough. He twists around and stares down at Damian, instinctively crouched on his fours. “I’m not fighting you.” Danny says sternly, watching the kid hop after him. “I don’t fight the living, and I don’t fight kids.” Living ones, that is. Youngblood was fair game.

Damian scowls, pointing his sword at him accusingly from the conveyor below. “Tawaqaf ean alrakd wawajahani 'ayuha aljaban!” Then he’s jumping up after him, doing an impressive flip in the air before latching onto the lower shelves and climbing up.

Admittedly, Danny is rooted to his spot with disbelief. What the fuck? “Who taught you that?” He says unwittingly, bewilderment slipping into his voice. Seriously — who taught him that? What six year old knows how to do a backflip at this age? Who made you, kid?

Naturally, Damian doesn’t answer him, and Danny grabs his grappling gun and aims it at the rafters. With a quick pull of the trigger, the hook shoots out and wraps around one of the beams. Danny yanks back, and he braces as the cord yanks him forward in return. When he reaches the beam, he pulls himself up as the cord unravels itself and retracts back into the gun.

Danny shoves his gun back onto his belt, and disappears into the shadows of the ceiling.

Just in time, Damian was at the top of the shelving unit he was just on, and the kid stomps his foot angrily. Briefly, a smile tugs at the corner of Danny’s mouth, amusement fizzing out in his lungs. “Tawaqaf ean alrakd!” The kid yells, his hands shaking at his sides. “'Ayn 'akhadhatni ya Lieazir!”

He swivels his head around, his face scrunched up in the dark room as he searches the rafters. Danny silently crawls across the beam, stooping low and moving slowly, and never taking his eyes off Damian.

The kid is wound up like a spring, and jumpier than a war vet on the Fourth of July. It’s a little funny, but as Danny creeps through the ceiling, the kid only grows more frantic. The only light coming through is the muffled, yellow dim of the streets, and the moonlight that was in the middle of waning from gibbous to crescent. Good enough that Danny can see the kid’s face shifting from anger to fear.

“Laeazir!” He yells again, and his voice cracks. Danny stills. “Akhruj huna Lieazir!”

Okay, it wasn’t funny anymore. Danny holds his breath, watching as Damian’s expression fluctuates between scowling fury and wild-eyed panic. He’s twisting on his feet, whatever lethal grace he had earlier from their brief fight is gone now, replaced with clumsy, fawn-like alarm.

Damian breathes in deeply, and Danny can see the whites of his eyes when he turns his head wildly in his direction. “Azhar nafsak!”

He’s scared. Danny realizes, pricking up slightly from the rafter. He’s scared. That’s why he attacked him, he’s scared. Of course he is, Danny thinks, feeling like an idiot. He crawls over the beams again, creeping around Damian, keeping his gaze sharp on the kid’s feet. With how much he was spinning, he’s a little worried he was going to fall off the shelf.

Of course he’s scared, he thinks again. He’s a kid, he doesn’t know any English, and he’s alone. Danny can’t imagine what’s going on through his head — of course he’s scared. He must be terrified. He looks terrified.

Danny raises himself up carefully, gripping onto the rafters, and dashes across quickly. Damian whirls around towards him, his hands flying to his katana at his sheathe. His fear smothers on his face, and Damian tenses up defensively.

The grappling gun finds its way back into Danny’s hands, and Danny shoots it at a beam connected to one of the pillars. When it catches, he leans to the side, and lets himself fall. The cord goes taut, and Danny flicks a small button on the side that allows him to lower to the ground with some relative ease.

With his back to Damian, he hears a quiet scuffle and the shelf creaks. When his feet touch the ground, he tugs on his gun and the cord retracts. Danny can hear quiet, rapid-approaching footsteps coming up behind him, and he shoves his grappler back into its place and whirls around.

And immediately, reflexively, catches the blade being swung at him with both hands. Shit, he wheezes out harshly, eyes widening in shock. The blade digs into his hands, but there’s no sting — his gloves had taken the brunt of the hit. They were probably ruined after this, but Danny’s less upset over that more than he is relieved.

Damian glowers up at him, and this close up, Danny can very barely see a watery sheen covering his bottom eyelashes. His heartstrings pull, but it doesn’t stop him from curling his fingers tight around his katana to prevent him from pulling away.

“Let me help you.” Danny says, rushed. He doesn’t understand him, the obvious part of his mind whispers. He needs to get him to understand him. Damian’s arms tremble slightly, he pushes down harder on Danny’s hands. But he doesn’t budge.

He tries to yank it back instead, and it gives slightly — only for Danny to readjust his grip, despite the fear spiking in his heart. Cold metal kisses at part of his palm. It’s cut through his glove more. “Put the sword down.”

“'Ayn 'ana.” Damian snarls at him, there’s still a tremble in his voice. “'Ayn 'akhadhatni.”

A low, frustrated sound emits in the back of Danny’s throat. “I can’t understand you.” He snaps, if the kid would stop trying to kill him for five seconds, maybe they’d be able to get somewhere. “And you can’t understand me.” But if you’d stop attacking me, I could figure out a way how.

Something takes mercy on Danny — because Damian gives up on trying to take back the sword. He lets go of the handle, and Danny sees an opening. Immediately, he tosses the sword off to the side, ignoring the clattering and skidding it makes against the concrete floor. The kid is fast, but Danny is faster. He wraps his hand around Damian’s forearm and yanks him forward.

Damian yells angrily, and Danny traps his arm against his chest and twists him around so that his back is to his chest. Danny is also stronger. Both as a given from his size, and what he does every night. Trapping Damian against him is easier done and said, and Danny immediately sits them both on the ground once he has a good purchase on him.

“'Utliq sarahi!” Damian yells, thrashing against him violently. Danny simply tilts his head up to prevent Damian from headbutting him in the chin, and wraps an arm around his torso tightly so he can fish for his phone. “'Ayuha alqadharatu! 'Utliq sarahi!”

Danny doesn’t know what he’s saying but he can guess, and he readjusts his arm when Damian nearly slips out. “No.” He says curtly, and when he gets out his phone, he sets it down briefly so he can pull his glove off. With his other arm preoccupied with keeping Damian still, Danny tugs it off with his teeth instead.

Silently, he inspects his palm for any injuries from the katana. He hadn’t felt anything, but it doesn’t hurt to check. He smiles faintly, relief weighting off his shoulders, when all he finds is a small cut near the meat of his palm. Not even deep enough to bleed. It stings, but it won’t even scar.

He picks up his phone again, and with his mask on he can’t use the facial recognition. Danny taps in his password with his thumb, and quickly pulls up a translator. In his arms, Damian continues to thrash around, twisting and trying to pretzel himself out of his grip.

“'Ana Damian Al Ghul, dam Ras Alshaytan!” Damian demands. Danny is a little worried that he might bite him, and he hoists him back up onto his lap when he tries to wriggle down. “Yajib 'an tastamie li'awamiri ya Lieazir!”

Al Ghul. Danny’s never heard that last name before, and he pauses from his typing to frown. “Hm.” Damian — the original, that is, not the clone in his arms, — went by his father’s surname, and Danny can’t remember if it was ever released what the mother’s last name was.

He quickly swaps the tab on his phone to a new one, and types into the search bar: ‘Damian Wayne mom last name’ and clicks enter. There’s a few seconds where his phone is loading, and then it pulls up the results. And with it, is a chunk of text from the top article: Damian’s mother was kept anonymous for her privacy’s sake. Who she was, what her name is, it’s all unknown other than that she was Chinese-Arabic. A remarkable feat of anonymity in the grand scheme of things and the all seeing eyes of the internet.

“Hn.” Danny’s mouth presses into a line, and he glances down to Damian. Original Damian’s maternal surname was unknown, and now he knows that his clone was calling himself Damian, what was the off chance that ‘Al Ghul’ was a random last name given to him, and wasn’t actually his mother’s surname?

…Not likely. Or it was a low chance.

Putting that aside, he swaps back to the translator and converts what he wrote into Arabic. Damian’s mother was Arabic-Chinese, and the language Damian was speaking didn’t sound like Chinese. So, fingers crossing, he hopes it’s Arabic.

Turning up the volume as far as it could go, he looks back at Damian, whose struggling and yelling has slowly begun to cease. Danny doesn’t trust it, and he smiles a little amusedly, that’s not going to get me to let go. He checks the translation to make sure it’s what he wants it to say, and then hits the play button.

[I can’t understand you, but my name is Danny. I want to help you.]

Damian jerks, hitting his head against Danny’s chest in surprise. “'Utliq sarahi 'ayn 'ana?” He sneers, “'Ana last bihajat limusaeadatikum.”

“I just said I can’t understand you, bud.” Danny sighs, once again adjusting his hold on Damian. The kid kicks at him and misses him entirely. His arm was starting to get tired from the strain of holding Damian on its own, so Danny puts his phone behind him and swaps them.

He honest to god gets hissed at when he has to adjust Damian as well, and Danny pauses for a moment just out of pure wonder at the boy in his arms. He was hissed at, as if he was scruffing a stray cat. He was so telling Sam about this when he gets this kid home.

Smiling faintly, Danny pulls his other glove off with his teeth, checks for injuries, and then with a little bit of contortion, grabs his phone and pulls it back up. Then his train of thought catches up to him, and he freezes just as he’s about to type into the translator again.

Take him home? The kid? Danny can’t do that. There wasn’t any room in the house, and how would he explain this to his parents?

‘Hey mom, dad, this is Damian. He’s a clone of my genetic template’s son! Yeah, yeah, that template, the one who just so happens to be the old college buddy that you accidentally cloned instead of dad? The one who just so happens to be capable of suing our family out of existence if he happened to catch wind of my existence? Oh, where did I find him? Last night while I was out. Why was I out? Oh, because I just so happen to be the Phantom, your sworn enemy and the ghost-hunting vigilante who you are convinced is also a ghost. Can we keep him?’

Yeah, yeah, he can see how well that would go down. He might as well take off his mask and tell Bruce Wayne he had a clone already. But… where else would Damian go? He doesn’t know any English, he was alone in a foreign country with no money, no way to get home, the worst thing Danny can do is abandon him right now.

Danny presses his mouth into a thin line, a frown beginning to pull at the corner of his lips.

…He could figure something out with his parents, Jazz will help him once he explains the situation. And if he can get Damian to agree to stop trying to kill him, then they can both make it back to Fenton Works before sunrise… Hopefully.

Pressing his mouth into a thin line, Danny starts typing into the translator again. [You’re in America right now. The translator doesn’t translate the name of my city well, but we’re in Illinois. You are very far from home.]

Damian jerks once again, twisting his neck to look up at Danny with disbelief. “'Amrika?” He says, the corner of his up curled up. Danny nods curtly, he doesn’t need to know Arabic to know what ‘Amrika’ means. “Hadhih Amirika?”

Danny nods again, “Yeah, America. You’re in Amity Park.” He points to the ceiling, and gestures around them slowly. Damian watches him carefully, his eyes narrowed. “Am-i-ty Park.” Danny says, enunciating the syllables slowly.

Green eyes narrow at him further. “Amity Park.” Damian says, slowly and sharp. When Danny nods, he drops his head and Danny tilts slightly in order to see as Damian casts the room a disdainful look. “Amity Park.” He repeats, voice full of enough venom to kill a full grown man.

He can’t help himself, he snorts to himself and grins underneath his mask. The sound causes Damian to snap his head back up at him, and return his glower full force. He tries to wriggle again, but, like all other times, it’s in vain.

“Sawf tutliq sarahi.” Damian orders, mouth twisting back into a scowl. Danny almost wants to tell him that his face will freeze if he keeps doing that. He’s already got his thumb hovering over the keyboard. “Yajib 'an 'aeud 'iilaa aldawrii.”

Danny types into his phone, [I want to help you. You don’t know English, so getting around on your own will be next to impossible. If you promise not to attack me, I will take you back to my home and we can figure out how to get you home.]

It’s… okay. Danny doesn’t really want to help the kid get home. Wherever that is, it’s teaching a child how to kill people, and it’s making clones of people. Statistically, that’s a bad sign. It also means that, for all intents and purposes, Danny should help the kid get home so he can find out whatever this organization is and, hopefully, put a stop to their cloning.

However, Danny has his own city to take care of. Amity Park is full from head to toe with ghosts and spirits, and with his parents playing whack-a-mole with the portal’s door controls, he doesn’t feel comfortable leaving the city for even a few days. His parents can catch a lot of ghosts in only a few days.

His parents can spill a lot of blood in only a few days.

The evil cloning organization that made Damian will just have to be something Danny can leave in the capable hands of the older, more experienced heroes. For now, he can try and stall Damian’s homecoming and also keep him safe by keeping him housed.

Damian, instead of wriggling again, slumps against him with a throaty huff. Danny peers over his head, checking to see if he was just pouting or had, somehow, passed out. Damian was scowling, his shoulders slumped up slightly, and Danny internally coos.

He’s pouting. It was adorable.

The boy is silent for a long minute, a scowl carved like marble in his face, and Danny is content — no, wait, slightly content. He still wants to get home at a semi-reasonable time, — to wait him out. He is stronger, bigger, and faster than him. Eventually, Damian makes a low grumbling noise, something Danny can almost mistake for as a groan, before the kid slumps against him.

“Hsnan, sa'abqaa maeak hataa natamakan min 'iieadati 'iilaa aldawri.” He says, sounding significantly less full of indignant rage, and more so full of indignant irritation. He also no longer wriggles, and Danny feels hope sparking low in his gut. Did he finally get through to him…?

More seconds pass by with the two of them just sitting there in silence, before Damian wriggles again — but rather than trying to escape, he twists his head to give Danny a dirty, expectant look. Danny frowns, confused, and then jerks — Oh! Oh!

He fumbles for his phone, [Was that a yes? Nod if it was a yes?]

Damian scoffs at him, looking very much like Danny was nothing more than dirt under his shoes. But he nods curtly, “Naeam sa'adhhab maeak.”

Danny cheers, loudly. The hand curled around his phone punches skyward, like a fistbump to the ceiling, and Damian drops his head away from him. He yells something at him — probably telling him not to be so loud, but Danny pays it no mind. He’s only focused on the pure, utter, relief, pouring into his lungs and trying to trick itself out of his mouth as a laugh.

Yes, yes! He convinced him! That’s one less worry to worry about, and as Danny drops his hand with his phone, his other arm starts to loosen up around Damian's waist — something Damian very much notices. As he stiffens up and is halfway through shoving himself out of his grasp.

Danny lets him go, remembering abruptly the mask on his face. He lets Damian get to his feet, but he’s quickly scrambling soon after, not to grab him again. But to scramble for the katana he’d tossed out of the kid’s reach. Damian exclaims behind him, but Danny has his fingers curled around the handle before the kid can chase after him.

When he stands and faces Damian again, the kid is all puffed up with rage again. Danny doesn’t doubt that, if the kid is trained to be some… kind of ninja…. that he has more weapons on him. But Damian looks more focused on his sword, so Danny holds up his phone-hand in a gesture to hopefully make Damian wait before he attacks him.

“Wait, wait, wait!” He cries. Damian does, fortunately, and Danny quickly types into his phone again. [I will give you back your sword, and I will show you my face when we reach my home. But you must promise you won’t attack me once I do.] He pauses for a moment, and then types in as well: [I’ll also show you how to use the translator so we can talk both ways.]

He doesn’t know if Damian even knows what his… father? Looks like, or what his feelings on him are if he does. But Danny was going to cover his bases, and if there was the off chance that Damian held negative feelings for his dad, he didn’t want the kid to attack him, again.

(It probably wasn’t a good idea to do this at home, but at this point Danny just wants to be in his room.)

Damian eyes him up suspiciously, tense as a wooden plank and hunched like he was ready to pounce anyways, but he nods curtly. “Aeidak.”

“Okay.” Danny breathes out, slowly straightening up. He’ll take that as Damian promising not to attack him. “Okay, good. Good.” Lowering his hand, he pockets his phone back into his jeans and flips the sword around so that the blade is pointing downwards. He holds it out for Damian, and the kid, quick as a whip, snatches it back from him and sheathes it into its scabbard.

Great, finally. Now he can leave. Danny’s hands drop to his sides and he wriggles his fingers at Damian, absently gesturing for him to grab his hand. He turns his head away, searching for the door. “Let’s go.”

No hand takes his, which Danny should have expected, so he drops it back to his side and leads Damian to the exit. The kid sticks close to him, but keeps just barely out of sight from his peripherals. His steps are quiet, Danny would say almost silent but that wasn’t the case. If he wasn’t paying attention, though, he probably wouldn’t have noticed. Ninja stuff, probably. Danny’s a little, no, a lot concerned that he’s so good at that.

Ancients, bud. He thinks again, disbelief returning like a hand around his throat. Danny keeps glancing back at Damian to make sure he was still there. Just who, exactly, made you?

When they get outside, the night air hits them cooler than it was inside. Spirits were still lingering around the sidewalks, chattering amongst each other and throwing him various, curious glances. Danny suppresses a frown, but can’t stop himself from making a low ‘hm.’

They probably felt the shift in the atmosphere from the portal opening. It may have dissipated, but the excess was still lingering around. Without his focus solely on Damian, Danny can feel it too. Like a fog in his chest. Or, perhaps more accurately, like going through the day in a tired glaze, only to be hit with pin-startling clarity. The spirits were probably trying to soak up as much as possible in order to gain a stronger physical form.

Which, unfortunately for them, wouldn’t happen from this portal alone. Too many spirits trying to do the same thing. Not enough ectoplasm.

He leads Damian down the steps, and over to the sidewalk. On instinct his hand reaches for his grappling hook, but Damian, still loitering in his peripherals, tenses up. Oh, right, Danny thinks, and switches for his phone instead, this is a two-person trip.

It’d probably be rude to just grab Damian and start flying. Damian might try and stab him, or worse, try and get out of his hands again. The mental image of Damian falling nearly fifty-feet in the air flashes behind Danny’s eyes, and he represses a shudder.

Yeah, let's tell him first.

His fingers fly across the screen. [I’m going to use a grappling hook to get us back to the house. It’ll be faster. I’m going to pick you up, hold on tight.]

Damian scoffs at him, but nods. Danny pockets his phone, swaps it out for his grappling hook instead, and lets Damian look at it for a minute before he crouches down and wraps his free arm around Damian’s legs and hoists him up.

Something gets said to him by Damian, harsh and scowly, probably an insult, but he wraps his arms around Danny’s neck and his legs tight around his torso. At this point Danny just rolls his eyes and adjusts his arm to hold him tight around the waist. “Hold on.” He mumbles, and points his gun to the sky.

Flying through the city is admittedly trickier with the extra weight on his front and only one hand free, but Danny takes it as a challenge rather than a problem — if only so he doesn’t think too much on it. Damian’s fingers claw into the back of hoodie the moment his grappling hook pulls them through the air, it borderlines almost painful, and Danny doubts he could drop the kid even if he tried.

There are a few close calls where Danny nearly clips the edge of one of the skyscrapers, but it takes one easy twist and a little bit of spinning to correct the angle. The threat of it sends a rush of adrenaline through his veins, and Danny can’t say he didn’t laugh a few times. Becoming Phantom turned him into an adrenaline junkie, he thinks.

Damian doesn’t seem to be having much fun though, his grip suffocating on Danny and his face buried into his shoulder. He’s choking Danny a little, but he wouldn’t dare try and correct it while in the air, and it’s only bringing him mild discomfort.

Not fast enough but all too soon, Danny is touching down near the residential area of Amity Park where the buildings are too small for him to grapple through. He drops onto one of the apartment rooftops, and his feet are barely touching the ground before Damian clambers off him like a wet cat trying to claw its way out of a pool.

With the sound of his grappling hook receding, Danny laughs low under his breath. “Flying not for you, bud?” He asks, slightly breathless and grinning under his mask. The hook clicks into place in his palm, and Danny shoves it back onto his belt.

The kid glares at him amidst brushing off his clothes and patting at his sides. His hand brushes over his sword, and when he feels the hilt still there, Damian drops it. The kid straightens up like a soldier — immediately killing Danny’s sky-flushed mirth in the process — and stares up at him, awaiting orders.

Danny’s smile falls, and he clears his throat. Okay, he thinks, checking himself over for anything out of place, before looking back to Damian. Resolve hardens like cement in between his ribs. He’s not going back. Not if I have anything to say about it.

He moves around Damian and steps over to the roof ledge, swiveling left and right for the direction of his house. Which is unnecessary, he can see Fenton Works from a mile away, but he does it anyways. Anything to distract him from the discomfort that’s been sledgehammered at him. “This way.” He murmurs, gesturing for Damian to follow. Shuffling feet, and Danny can sense more than see the little boy at his side.

Considering the way he saw Damian hopping around earlier, Danny is confident in his ability to roof hop with him — confidence well deserved because Damian follows him with relative ease. Which is still real damn worrying, but he can dwell on it when they get to the house.

Still, he keeps a close eye on Damian the entire time they’re leaping rooftops. The boy was six, he didn’t have the same stamina nor height that Danny did — it’d be too easy for Danny to lose him on the way to the house because he couldn’t keep up, or he decided to change his mind while Danny was distracted and book it in another direction.

They reach the house in no time, and Danny’s fishing for his key from his belt the moment his feet hit the concrete of the rooftop. Damian remains behind him, an ever-constant shadow as Danny ducks under the various legs, wires, and poles of the OPPS Center and unlocks the door to the roof.

Getting to his room is a relief. The strange, buzzing sensation that settles through Danny’s eyes like a thin film whenever he’s using his ‘scary eyes’ dissipates, and he’s kicking off his boots with a low sigh before he can really think it through. He’ll put them back in their place when he’s done — but for now, he just wants them off. Damian pools in behind him, slinking off to the corner of the room as Danny shuts the door.

His room is spotless — a cleaning habit he’s kept meticulously since he wanted to be an astronaut. He had planets hanging from the ceiling, glow in the dark stars muttered against the walls, and posters of astronomy, Dumpty Humpty, and NASA plastered beside the stars. And a large corkboard hanging above his desk.

“Finally.” he groans, twisting his hips and stretching out his back before reaching over and turning on the hanging lights. A soft orange glow fills the room, and Danny turns just in time to see Damian jump in surprise. He’d moved over to Danny’s bookshelf on the opposite side of the room, his body half turned away and tilted like he’d been inspecting it.

Danny stifles a smile, and tugs off his thermos and grappling hook and places them on the desk. Damian straightens up, shuffling away from the bookshelf and back over to him, his brows beginning to furrow with a look of determination.

He marches towards him, “Laqad wasalna 'iilaa manzilika, walan ealayk 'an tafi bikalimatik watakhlae qanaeaka.”

Danny doesn’t know what he’s saying, but Damian points to his face while he’s speaking so Danny figures it out relatively quickly. Besides, it’s not like he’d forgotten either. He has to take off his mask to sleep, and it’s easier to change when he’s not wearing it. He grabs his phone from his pocket.

[I know, I’ll take off my mask. But remember: you can’t attack me.] He hits play, and watches Damian scoff for the nth time, roll his eyes, and nod. As if to reassure him, or to prove that he wasn’t going to attack him, Damian folds his arms behind his back.

Briefly, Danny feels himself nearly frown again at Damian’s almost soldier-like posture. But he has time to worry about that later, he shoves his phone back into his pocket. Danny raises his hands and curls his fingers around the bottom of his mask.

Carefully, mindful of the straps, Danny pulls it off. The cool air immediately rushes over his damp forehead, and he quickly shakes his head with bated breath to get the strands of hair plastered to his skin off. He locks eyes with Damian, tense, and with air trapped in his lungs.

Damian’s eyes widen comically, his scowl softening for a moment. For a moment, Danny thinks that maybe things will be fine…ish. But then Damian’s face is scrunching up again, his face sharpening angrily, and his hands reach for his sword.

“Dijaal!” He hisses, fire lighting in his eyes as he grabs for his katana.

Danny takes a step back and holds his hand out, narrowing his eyes defensively. “Hey, hey, hey!” He hisses back, he points a finger at Damian accusingly, arching an eyebrow. “You promised!”

Apparently, the tone of ‘no takesies-backsies!’ transcends language, because Damian freezes where he stands and simply remains glowering at him. Danny raises his eyebrow higher, locking him in a staring contest, and Damian takes his hand off the hilt.

Great. Good. Fantastic even! Crisis avoided, and no parents woken up in the process. That’s a success if Danny’s ever heard one. He keeps his eyes on Damian, before slowly reaching for his phone again. It’s like having a stand-off with a bull. A tiny, six year old-sized bull with a sword rather than horns, but a bull nonetheless.

He gets his phone out safely, and gets out the translator. Again. [I know I’m a clone of your dad. I didn’t ask to be. I still want to help you.] And he does, he so much does. Danny was a bleeding heart, forever and always. If he can help, he will. He hopes that the blood he is made from won’t stop Damian from accepting that help.

Damian stares him down, eyes narrowed like he’s trying to analyze Danny’s every move. Danny stays still and lets him, waiting for the jurisdiction of the small assassin.

Whatever it is that Damian sees, it causes him to drop his hands to his side with an irritated sigh just like before. He says nothing, but the resigned slump of his shoulders tells Danny all he needs to know, and he beams.

Success, he thinks, laughing quietly in earnest. [Stay here.] He quickly types into his phone and plays. He reaches for his thermos. [I need to release the ghosts in my device, then I’ll show you how to use the translator.]

He plucks the thermos from his desk and tosses his phone over Damian’s head and onto the bed. It bounces, Damian grumbles something under his breath, and the phone bounces again. Danny puts the mask down, and dances out the door and down into the lab with practiced ease.

When he returns, Damian is snooping around his room, looking around his desk this time around. He straightens up when Danny steps into the room, and Danny doesn’t bother addressing it — instead he grabs his phone again and gestures for Damian to sit on the bed with him.

It takes a painfully long amount of time to show Damian how to use the translator, with a ton of repetition and fiddling around. But they manage, finally, to get a system up where Danny will type something into the translator, play it back to Damian, and then hand the phone to Damian. Damian then would swap the translation, use text-to-speech, and play it in english.

Naturally, text-to-speech has its flaws, and Damian is only recently learning how to read, so Danny figures out the translation errors on his own. They don’t talk for long, Damian is shut off, snooty, and reserved to him. All Danny knows is that his name is Damian Al Ghul, and he is the blood son and second heir to something called the League of Assassins.

How cheery. “League of Assassins” sounds definitely evil. Ancients, Danny doesn’t wanna know. He’ll have to get involved if he knows any more.

He lets Damian fiddle with the translator more in regards to searching his closet for clothes for Damian to wear. He doesn’t have any shorts that will fit, but he pulls out an old NASA t-shirt that still somewhat fits him, and tosses it to Damian.

After much arguing, he gets Damian to wear it, and he gives Damian the bed. That takes less arguing — Damian is all too happy to sleep in a bed rather than the floor, and Danny pulls his beanbag chair out from its nook to shove it under his desk.

He’s still awake by the time sunlight begins peeking over the buildings, his eyelids heavy and sore with exhaustion, and his limbs feeling loose and disconnected. He’s fixed up his gloves — torn from the katana, but now half-heartedly sewn up with thread and a lot of muttered swearing on Danny’s part. His mask is shoved in a hidden pocket in his backpack along with his thermos.

Damian is fast asleep in bed, and with nothing else to do, Danny keeps his sharp eye on him. Swamped in Danny’s shirt and curled up under the covers, Damian is teeny. Well, he was small even before that, but it is even more apparent when tucked under blankets meant for people bigger than him.

And, for perhaps the third time that night, Danny is hit with just the sheer longing of how much he wants to help him. Danny is the hand that feeds, and Damian has a lot of teeth. The cut of his gloves is more than proof enough of that. But Danny wants to help him, Damian has no one else here to. Danny, so far, is the only one who can help him.

He is also hit with the sheer magnitude of what he’s just done — the terrifying revelation that Danny’s just taken in the clone of his template’s son. What the hell does that make for him and Damian’s relationship? Genetically, Danny is technically his father, but they’re complete strangers to one another.

What does that mean for Danny? It’s been four months since his parents revealed their betrayal. Their lies. Their backstabbing, earth-shattering, fifteen years of astounding— the truth to Danny about his… birth. Four months isn’t long enough to deal with something like that. He is still questioning everything he does — whether his actions belong to him, or to Bruce Wayne.

And this? This just takes the fucking cake.

Danny breathes in deeply, snapping himself out of the slow-creeping spiral threatening to drag him under the waters of his mind. His eyes flick to the window. It’s too early to think about this. Much, much too early. He slinks into his beanbag with a low groan, stifling back a groan.

He can worry about the identity crisis and his crisis of autonomy later. Later, when he’s not mind-numbingly exhausted and already mentally fragile from that alone. Not when there’s a teeny baby assassin sleeping in his bed who happens to be his son? Cousin? Brother? template’s son’s clone.

With sunlight peeking through the windows, he slinks out from under his desk to prepare for another day.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpdc #dpxdc crossover #danny fenton is a clone #clone^2 #dpdc au #dpxdc fic #dpdc fic #danny fenton is not the ghost king #starry's writing #ao3 tag highlights: Accidental Little Brother Acquisition #Cat Distribution System Except Its A Child #i crave validation and attention so whoops #danny: wow that is a child! Why Is The Child Violent #danny: ahaha i can ignore my identity crisis if i focus on Literally Anything Else

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skyward-floored · 7 months

Text

Whumptober Day 4: Shock, “I see the danger, it’s written there in your eyes”

We had to get to the bloody ones eventually—

This was originally going to be standalone, but one thing led to another and I think there’s going to be another part at some point. I couldn’t make it longer and I’m very stuck on the idea hehe

Warnings: blood & injury, specifically a stab wound, and just general battle violence and injuries

Read it on ao3

————————————————————

“Ugh, wizzrobes again?” Legend grumbled as he slid under a bolt of electricity. “We just fought some of these clowns yesterday! Did the Shadow just give up on originality?”

“Less complaining, more fighting!” Warriors shouted at him from nearby, and Legend rolled his eyes.

“Less criticism and more fighting!” Hyrule called back with a mischievous look, and Legend almost laughed, though it turned into a yelp when he dodged another bolt of magic.

Wizzrobes were such a pain.

Especially Wild’s.

Warriors shouted at him again, but this time it was a warning, and Legend deftly jumped away from a blast of ice that would have frozen him solid. He nodded a thanks at the captain, and went back to trying to defeat the wizzrobes, which was nearly impossible with how crazily they moved.

Legend dodged a fireball, and quickly turned and shot a blast of ice at the offending monster. It shrieked, and disappeared into a puff of smoke, and Legend swapped out his ice rod for a fire rod, and did the same to another.

The different rods seemed to work well, and along with the others all fighting together, soon there was only one wizzrobe left. It was in a color Legend hadn’t seen before though, and he looked at it suspiciously.

“Yours come in purple now?” he called behind him towards where he knew Wild was sniping.

“I’ve never seen one like that before!” Wild called back, voice uncertain. “I don’t know what it—”

As he spoke, the wizzrobe grinned, letting out a deranged cackle as it shot a huge burst of magic into the sky. Purple lights flashed, and a glowing ball fell from them, dropping down into the clearing and exploding into blinding light before anyone could do a thing.

Legend yelped and covered his face with his shield, but the magic still knocked him off his feet and onto the ground. It shook into his limbs and up to his face, his vision going white and spotty. It didn’t... hurt, exactly, but something about it felt all mixed up inside of him, jolting through his body and limbs, and he felt rather discombobulated.

“Legend!”

The sensation abruptly faded, and he felt arms tugging at him. Legend gingerly opened his eyes, almost surprised he could see at all, and looked up, meeting Hyrule’s worried gaze. The traveler was looking down at him with wide eyes, and Legend blinked a few times to get the last few spots of white out of his vision.

“Are you okay?” Hyrule asked, looking him over worriedly, “you were closest to that beam, it felt like an explosion went off.”

“Fine, fine,” Legend coughed, then gingerly pulled himself up to a sitting position. “Think it was just... magic. I don’t even think it did anything to me.”

“Nothing?” Hyrule asked suspiciously, and Legend shook his head.

“No. Is everyone else okay? Where’d that wizzrobe go?”

“I haven’t checked yet, but since you’re fine I would guess they’ll be—”

An arrow slammed into the ground right between Legend’s feet.

He jumped, and in one swift movement was on his feet with his shield out, back to back with Hyrule as he looked for the enemy who’d shot. He scanned the field as he looked for where his sword had gone to, then he froze, and stared at who had fired the arrow.

Wild stood across the clearing, his bow drawn with an arrow nocked in Legend’s direction. His brows were lowered as he stared at the veteran, stance unusually firm, and something about the way he held himself just screamed danger.

Legend flicked his eyes around, and felt his breath leave him as he saw Warriors and Sky both staring at him as well, swords drawn and angled towards him in a threatening gesture. Time stood on Legend’s other side, claymore raised as he stared silently at the veteran, and Legend’s heart skipped a beat.

He and Hyrule were surrounded. By their own teammates.

No, Legend realized with a dawning horror, sunlight glinting proudly off Time and Warriors’ armor, no not my teammates.

Knights.

“Captain? What’s going on?” Twilight asked nearby, Wind and Four looking equally confused next to him.

“Traitor to the crown,” Warriors said in a low voice, eyes never blinking.

“You kidnapped the princess,” Wild added in a growl.

“We have our orders,” Sky said in a smooth voice, and raised the Master Sword accusingly. “Dead or alive.”

Legend couldn’t breathe.

“Don’t be crazy!” Wind said in disbelief, looking at Time and Warriors with a shocked expression. “Legend didn’t do anything! What’s wrong with you guys?!”

“The wizzrobe,” Four said with a sharp inhale. “That attack must have done something to make them think he’s the enemy.”

“Time, please, you know Legend, he hasn’t done anything wrong,” Twilight said gently, inching towards him. But Time stopped him with a firm glare, his sword never lowering. The knights all took a step closer to Legend, and he felt Hyrule stiffen at his back.

“Legend, you need to run,” Hyrule whispered. “Now.”

Legend couldn’t move.

Suddenly he was eleven again, staring at a wanted poster with his face on it, wondering why the reward was so high. He was eleven, screamed at by the townsfolk, and surrounded by guards just for trying to walk into the village to buy food on his quest. He was eleven, chased down by brainwashed knights and forced to fight them, some of them people he knew, his uncle’s friends, raise his uncle’s sword against them and hurt them—

“Legend RUN!”

He snapped back into himself just in time to avoid a thrust from Warriors, and Hyrule grabbed his wrist when he merely stared at the weapon that had almost killed him, pulling him away.

“Come back you traitor!” Warriors shouted, and Legend blinked, able only to watch in numb shock as Four and Twilight leapt to defend him, Hyrule still dragging him away.

Sky leapt forward, then cried out as the Master Sword fell from his grip, sparking as she was about to be used against one of her own. Wind took the opportunity to tackle him, and Legend watched blankly as the sailor wrestled Sky’s pouch away from him so he couldn’t grab any more weapons.

“Don’t hurt them!” Wind cried out, still struggling with Sky, “they’re not themselves!”

“Keep them away from Legend!” Twilight shouted as he crossed swords with Warriors, the captain swinging his blade with fierce strokes.

Hyrule nodded, and blocked a slew of arrows from plunging into Legend’s chest, then yanked him behind his back as he avoided a huge swing from Time.

“You’ve betrayed us all!” Time spat, and Hyrule crossed blades with him, nearly driven to his knees by the force of it. “You’re nothing but a false hero, poisoning the land with your lies!”

The words were like a knife, and Legend could only watch in blank shock, stunned as Hyrule struggled against Time, as Twilight and Warriors still fought against each other, Wind nearly getting punched in the face by Sky while Four tried desperately to get close enough to Wild to stop him from sniping them all down—

“Legend! Snap out of it!” Hyrule shouted as he somehow managed not to be lopped in two by another of Time’s swings. “You’re going to get killed, wake up!”

He wasn’t sure if it was the phrase or the desperation in Hyrule’s voice, but Legend finally snapped into action, firmly shaking himself. You can freak out later when half of your team isn’t trying to kill you!

Legend dove for his gilded sword, but hissed at the warning spark he felt as he grabbed it. Sometimes he forgot his blade was another version of the Master Sword, upgraded and changed, but at times like these it was impossible.

I’m not going to hurt them, I’m only defending myself, he begged as it got hotter, still stubbornly holding on even as his hands began to burn. Please, you know I’m not!

The hilt scorched his hands, and Legend was forced to shove it into its sheathe, grabbing in his pouch for a backup sword. Before he could though, something swung towards him, and he only barely got his shield up in time to block it.

The strike threw him to the ground for the second time today, and Legend nearly had the breath knocked out of him. His eyes widened as Wild raised a claymore of some kind to strike him with, and he just barely managed to roll out of the way of another hit.

“Champion I don’t want to have to hurt you,” he gritted out, but Wild didn’t reply.

His face was eerily closed-off as he tried to hit him, strikes almost clinically precise. Legend had to dodge all over the place, and he still got a shallow cut on his arm. Not to mention his hands were smarting from trying to use the gilded sword, and every time a hit rang out against his shield, he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out.

Wild swung again, and Legend gritted his teeth and used his backup sword to shove the champion backwards, then grabbed for his ice rod again. His aching fingers closed around it, but then he felt his entire body freeze in place, yellow shining in his vision.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t defend himself. He couldn’t do anything, and he suddenly realized that Wild must have used the stasis rune on his slate on him.

No, no no no no no—

Before he could panic too much, the magic broke, and Legend stumbled, thrown off-balance. He looked around in surprise, then saw Four standing next to him, having frozen Wild’s feet to the ground with Legend’s own dropped ice rod.

He could only stare at him for a second, and startled as Four yanked him behind his shield, blocking the arrows Wild was shooting at them again.

“Should have gotten his arms too,” he cursed, then turned towards Legend. ��Vet, they’re all after you, you need to go find that wizzrobe and beat it. That should break the magic, I think it’s our best bet. We can keep them all busy while you go.”

“But— you’re outnumbered,” Legend said a bit hysterically, his panic over the whole situation starting to come back, “not in numbers but skill, have you ever seen Sky and the captain duel? Not to mention the old man, he could probably take on all of you at once—”

Four put a hand on his arm, and gave him a small smile as he raised his sword.

“I can get us some more help. But you need to go.”

Legend swallowed, but he knew Four was right, and gave him a nod as he grabbed his ice rod and bolted in the direction he’d last seen the wizzrobe.

He suddenly felt like he was eleven again.

He caught sight of Hyrule as he ran, the traveler using his magic to stay away from Time’s deadly swings. He had blood on his leg, but his face was as determined as ever, and he firmly blocked Time from following when the older hero saw Legend running away.

“Coward!” he heard shouted behind him, but Legend kept running despite the sting it left in his chest.

He bolted past Twilight, who had an arrow in his arm and multiple other injuries, but was continuing to fight anyway, blocking Warriors’ strikes with a grieved look, almost like he’d been forced to do this before. Wind was still wrestling with Sky, fists flying as the Skyloftian tried desperately to get his weapons back, but Wind was determined to keep him down.

Every instinct of Legend’s was screaming at him to turn around and fight, help his friends, his brothers, he had so many items that could help them— but he forced himself to continue, ignoring a pained cry when he heard it.

Legend was smart enough to realize the only way they would all get out of this alive would be if he broke the curse. They couldn’t stand against some of the best fighters of their group forever— it was only a matter of time before someone was seriously hurt.

But no matter how many times he told himself that, it still felt like he was abandoning them.

This is the only way to help right now. You’re not leaving them, you’re doing what needs to be done.

If you stayed here, you would only make their job more difficult.

Legend searched desperately through the trees for a flash of purple, hoping desperately the wizzrobe was still in the area.

He had no way of knowing if he was looking in the right spot or not. For all he knew, the wizzrobe was long gone, but he kept looking, even as the clashing of swords still rang in his ears, and a scream that sounded a bit like Four echoed nearby.

Legend bit down on his lip so hard he tasted blood, and ignored the stinging that had started up in his eyes as he searched.

The others were back there somewhere, fighting against their brothers, risking their lives, all for him, to keep him safe, and he’d frozen and barely helped them and now he couldn’t even find the stupid wizzrobe.

“Come on! Come out and fight me!” he screamed, voice breaking a little. “Are you afraid? Because you better be!”

A giggle flitted through the trees, and Legend shot a blast of ice out, the laughter only growing.

Purple weaved through the foliage, and Legend shot another blast out, obviously missing due to the giggle he overheard. He knew his emotions were making him sloppy, and Legend forced himself to steady his hand. He breathed out, lowering his weapon and acting as if he was unaware of where the wizzrobe was.

Come on, take the bait...

A giggle erupted in his face, and Legend thrust out his ice rod, making the wizzrobe scream as it was launched backwards. It fell to the ground, stuck solidly in a chunk of ice, and Legend pulled out his fire rod, prepared to burn it to a crisp.

Then something hit him in the side, and he went flying, crying out as he fell to the grass.

His side ached where he’d been hit, and before he could move, what felt like a foot stepped down on his chest, pressing against his doubtlessly bruised ribs and stopping him from getting up. Legend opened his eyes and saw Warriors staring silently down at him, sword raised to pierce him through.

Somehow he’d gotten past the others.

“Wars— Warriors don’t,” Legend choked out, struggling to catch his breath. “Link, please I’m not your enemy!”

“You’re a traitor,” Warriors said in a cold voice, still not blinking. He had blood running down his face from a cut over his eye, but his face showed no sign of pain. “My orders are clear.”

“Captain wake up!” Legend shouted, terror rising in his throat. “You’re not yourself, you’d never hurt any of us, snap out of it!”

Warriors didn’t react in the slightest, and raised his sword.

Legend felt a burst of panic, and he shot his arm out, feeling desperately for where he’d dropped his fire rod. If he could just kill the wizzrobe, Warriors would wake up, the spell would break—

Warriors’ sword went down as Legend’s fingers closed around his rod, and he shot a desperate plume of flame towards the dazed wizzrobe.

The fire hit it right as Warriors’ sword buried itself in his middle, and Legend’s scream mixed with the wizzrobe’s, hot agony slicing into his chest. The sword was pulled out again only seconds later, but then Warriors stumbled back, the weapon dropping from his hands.

Legend barely noticed, trying not to scream again as the sword fell to the ground beside him, already feeling blood start to dampen his tunic.

Okay, okay okay easy, you’ve been stabbed before, no big deal. Just because Warriors was who did it doesn’t change a thing, put pressure on it, you need to put pressure—

His chest burned and Legend couldn’t hold back a cry, taking thick breaths through his nose.

Goddesses please, not like this, he’ll never forgive himself.

“L-Legend?” Warriors said dizzily, shaking his head as he tried to clear it. He put a hand to his forehead, and blinked several times, wiping blood from his face with a confused look. “Vet, what...”

Then his eyes focused, and he noticed the stab wound in his chest.

“LEGEND!”

Warriors dropped to his knees beside him, and Legend couldn’t help but jerk away from him, nearly shrieking as the captain immediately pressed his hands to his middle, trying to stem the flow.

“Legend don’t move, what happened how did this...”

Warriors trailed off as his gaze landed on his bloodied sword, and every bit of color drained from his face as he recognized it as his own.

“Legend?” he said shakily, and Legend swallowed, unable to stop himself from meeting his eyes.

A sword was abruptly pressed to Warriors’ neck, and Legend watched dizzily as Twilight forced the captain back, the look in his eyes equally furious and horrified. Warriors jerked like he wanted to go back to Legend, but he raised his arms in surrender, and moved back as Hyrule dropped to his side. More of the Links rushed into the clearing around Legend, but Warriors only had eyes for him, confusion and horror shining bright.

Hyrule’s hands pressed against his middle, and Legend sucked in another trembling breath.

“It— it’s gone,” he stuttered, and felt something warm slip past his lips. Oh that’s not good. “Wizzrobe— he’s not— not g-gonna—”

“Don’t talk Legend, you’ll be fine,” Hyrule said firmly, and Legend wasn’t sure if he imagined the tremble in his voice or not. “Just stay awake, okay? I’m gonna fix you up.”

Hyrule moved a careful hand around his chest, feeling at the injury, and Legend tensed, hissing through his teeth. Someone’s hand touched his head, and he flinched, choking as something moved in his middle.

The cold he’d been trying to ignore was growing closer now, nipping at his extremities, trying to suck him down. Legend firmly ignored the feeling, despite how easy it would be to sink into it, and focused on Hyrule’s face, blearily realizing there was blood on his shoulder. He wondered who had done that to him.

The pressure on his chest abruptly increased, and Legend couldn’t muffle his scream, so many sensations hitting him that his brain couldn’t even process it.

Then something began to trickle through his middle, something that warmed the cold that had been falling over him. Warmth blossomed in his chest, different from the hot blood that had been trickling across it, and Legend exhaled, relaxing slightly as Hyrule’s magic wove through him.

Once he could focus enough to realize Hyrule was still healing him, he reached down and grabbed his wrist, giving him a look.

“I’m good, don’t overextend yourself,” he said a little shakily, and he cut Hyrule off when he went to argue. “You already used a lot of magic, I saw you.”

“You lost a lot of blood,” Hyrule retorted.

“Well I’m not the only one who’s going to need healing,” Legend said more quietly, and Hyrule stopped, the glow fading from his hands.

Twilight appeared in his vision then, arrow still jutting from his arm, and he scanned Legend’s bloodstained middle in silence. Then he met Legend’s gaze, looking much older then he normally did.

“You definitely got the wizzrobe?” he asked seriously, and Legend nodded, his eyes suddenly heavy with exhaustion.

“It’s dead. The spell broke the moment I got it,” he said in a quiet voice. “They won’t... they’re safe.”

Oh gods I hope they are.

Twilight exhaled, and nodded, putting a hand on Legend’s arm.

“Okay. Try and get some rest, Veteran. We’ll handle things.”

“Take the literal arrow out of your arm first,” he muttered back, and a faint smile pulled at Twilight’s lips.

“We’re working on fixing everyone up. Rest. We can... we’ll figure all of this out later,” Twilight said quietly, glancing behind him at something. Legend followed his gaze, and saw Warriors sitting on a log, staring silently at the blood on his hands.

The others who’d been affected by the wizzrobe were nearby, and Sky looked like he was trying to talk to the captain, but Legend looked away as Hyrule began to bandage his middle.

Traitor!

Legend closed his eyes, and tried not to listen to any of the voices that still rang around his head, or focus on the horrified look of Warriors’ that was still seared into his mind.

He didn’t want to think about it. Any of it.

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fangirltothefullest · 3 months

Note

Okay but now what if how you designed Remus but in as many words as you want, because I'm loving these design breakdowns

HELL YEAH!

Remus to me is full of chaos but he is also the antithesis of Roman with similar qualities but a total lack of self consciousness or bashfulness. He is freedom and he gives no shits.

Inspiration 1: Mad Madam Mim

I start with a disney character full of chaos and I am inspired by mad Madam Mim because she is wild and chaotic and i absolutely love how fun she is as a villain and the most important thing for me is that Remus is fun. He's bonkers and has terrible ideas but he's also harmless in terms of reality. He's like an annoying little brother that wants to show you the Weird Gunk he found in the trash.

Inspiration 2: Snidley Whiplash (or Dick Dastardly)

Remus to me is a guy who knows a lot of things and he's actually really clever but he wants to BE a villain like Snidley Whiplash or Dick Dastardly, including the moustache. He wants to tie people to train tracks because it's fun. His personality is "I found the dynamite and the roller skates! :D"

Inspiration 3: Wile E Coyote and looney tunes as a concept

If Remus is anything it's a creature that can be stabbed in the eye and come back fine. It's a person who can make acme-like contraptions that do not work and that's ok. He is, if nothing else, Wile E Coyote and he is having the time of his life. He should therefore have hair that is a littler wild and crazy and untamable like Wile E's tail.

Inspiration 3: Royal villains

We will look at Galavant and also OUaT again!

There's nothing quite as detailed in costume as evil royal villains. They always seem to be the most extravagant or at least have all the buckles and things and Remus has an outfit just the same. Like Roman I want his royalty to show with his clothes but unlike Roman I want Remus to look way less put together. More a culmination of his clothes he chooses to wear but only because he HAS to wear something so he's going to show skin.

Particularly though the one I associate with Remus is Captain Hook from Once Upon a Time.

Inspiration 4: Captain Hook / Pirate aesthetics

Roguish, half-opened shirt, details, dressed fancy, swashbuckling. Remus would make a great pirate because he has the swagger and charm of a drunken man sailing a boat with a pet giant octopus he calls Lil Pussy.

Speaking of octopus...

Inspiration 5: Kraken and hentai

He has an octopus on his belt and he deserves tentacles for a pirate feel but also for fuckin. Cause he's a raunchy bastard. Anything taboo is something he wants to think about.

Inspiration 6: Punk aesthetic

What easier way top buck against the norms than to embrace punk vibes? Jewelry, upside-down crosses, I don't like going overboard with it but I like giving him some. Fingerless gloves, chokers with spikes, those kinds of things work well for his "I am everything your religious grandmother hates, embrace it". His outfits that aren't standard could look like he made them himself or found them in the garbage and went "awesome!"

Inspiration 7: Weapon Master

Remus likes to hit things with his mace and while Roman has his sword, I imagine Remus is an expert at weapons or at least likes to use them so even if I am going to dress him up nice I want a weapon nearby somewhere.

Things that are a must:

So many details, Remus will not leave your eyeballs alone. If you think Roman has details nope, Remus wants your eyes to bleed with them.

Remus should have longer hair than Roman, wilder bangs and wilder curls. Shorter hair is fine but a ponytail is even more fun. Like the tie holding it'll break at any moment.

Weapons galore, arm this baby at every opportunity. Likewise, scars are acceptable but it's ok if they disappear at random because chaos loves chaos.

If Remus has his main garb off he should be showing skin to the best of his abilities and his collar should drape down wider than normal because let that man be a slut.

Tentacles should be numerous when shown and they should have a mind of their own doing whatever they want.

If Roman wouldn't wear it, Remus would. If Roman wouldn't think it, Remus would, and if Roman would be disgusted, Remus would love it.

Remus should have annoying little brother vibes.

Any non-standard outfits should look like he cobbled them together with duct tape and chewing gum.

So I came to this:

#tashiarts #sanders sides #inspiration for remus

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skyloftian-nutcase · 16 days

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TotK DLC idea!

The screen is black. You don’t hear anything for a long time. Then, faintly, in the distance, you can hear it.

Link. Link. Open your eyes.

While the line echoes familiarity, the voice does not.

Or. Well. It does. Because while it isn’t Zelda, it’s a familiar man’s voice speaking gently, so gently you almost don’t recognize it because there’s no way he ever spoke like this in the main game.

But he is now. And instead of a golden light being the first image you see before the screen shows Link awakening… you see gloom floating in the air. The image cuts to a Hylian waking up who… doesn’t look like Link from TotK?? He’s different, still small in stature, with slightly tanner skin, platinum light blonde hair, and red eyes. But… something’s wrong with his forehead. There’s a weird line on it.

This new character you apparently are gonna be playing in the DLC blearily blinks his eyes open, clearly groggy and too weak to really move. But then that line on his forehead moves a hair, it splits apart, and you realize it’s a freaking eye, red and yellow and it’s like the ones on gloom hands and oh gosh what the hell is it doing on his forehead—

Link realizes something is off and his eyes blow wide, his hands reach for his forehead and he screams in agony and terror, only for someone to scoop him into a hug to soothe him.

And suddenly you realize why that voice was eerily familiar.

It’s Ganondorf. He resurrected you from the era of the Imprisoning War. You, who have a history with him and his family. You, who he wants to protect, who he views as his kid, who he calls a prince and says he’ll keep you safe by controlling your body with his dark magic if he has to.

Welcome to Tears of the Kingdom: Hero’s Shadow.

You have to play a long gone Hero who was resurrected. Ganondorf, who is still recovering his strength in preparation for killing the current Hero, tasks you with finding your betrothed, his daughter, as well as his wife. They’re buried somewhere in the Depths like you were. He wants you to find their burial sites so he can use his secret stone to resurrect them like he did you, and control them as well. Which is doubly bad when you realize his wife was the original Sage of Lightning. He gives you free reign to wander once you go through a tutorial (he tests you to see if you’ve recovered enough strength), because he knows you love wandering and collecting things. Your own personal objective, however, is trying to help Hyrule from the Depths, to break free from Ganondorf’s control, because Link would rather set himself on fire than let Ganondorf resurrect and control the love of his life and his mother-in-law. Your best hope is to find shards of the shattered Master Sword to try and stab the eye on Dark Link’s forehead and break the control Ganondorf has on you. Until you can, though, the monsters are your allies, you can teleport across the Depths by manifesting out of the gloom created by gloom hands (just like what Phantom Ganon does), and the world below is your oyster. If you get too close to sword shards when gloom hands are nearby, Ganondorf can see your attempt and immediately takes control of your body, and no matter what button you press Link just walks back to Ganondorf’s location and stays there until you get a chance to try again.

You start with three hearts, all empty looking like when gloom hurts you, and if you get injured they just shatter. Whenever they all shatter, you respawn at Ganondorf’s location because his gloom hands came and rescued you from dying. The only way you can get more hearts is by collecting poes and offering them to the statues in the Depths. You can communicate with the spirits of soldiers, who may give you combat tips or info about the area. If you gain enough of Ganondorf’s trust, he’ll let you command monsters, and he might even let you wander the Surface (under his supervision) during a blood moon.

You learn of Link’s and Ganondorf’s history through discovering ancient relics/texts that trigger memories. This connection between you and Ganondorf stems back to time before the war, well over ten thousand years ago. Link was engaged to Ganondorf’s daughter, but during the Imprisoning War the family fought against the demon king. Ganondorf did love his family, but he loved power more. Link sacrificed himself, letting himself get mortally wounded to save Rauru from a killing blow. Gan held him as he died, and it allowed Link to both beg him to stop and stab him in the heart with a light shard. The shard didn’t kill him, but it was what Rauru connected with when he hit him in the chest, allowing him to seal Ganondorf away. Ganondorf still wants the world, but his love for his family is still present, though now twisted, so he thinks he can control Link and everyone else with his dark magic in order to keep them safe and in line. Once the threat of the current Hero is eliminated, the world will be his, and his family will be safe. As such, he treats you, Link, the player, like a stubborn child, reeling you in, but does so in a horrific way, torturing Link by controlling him.

You have to break free of this and stop him, and the only hope you have is the distant call of a sword spirit…

#tears of the kingdom #totk #I think it would be pretty neat to play someone who is “allies” with the bad guy #but you still have the objective of stopping evil #But you have to manipulate Ganondorf and work around his watch #So you get to play double agent #And possibly see a more complex Ganondorf #Like the dude is still being evil; he’s using his love for Link as an excuse to control him #He does care about him but he’s expressing it in the worst way #and he wants to do the same to his wife and daughter #So still a bad guy but a far more interesting one #One day you’re on the Surface with him and you see the Light Dragon and you’re not sure who it is #Because Link died before Zelda ate the secret stone #But Link can kind of guess #And Ganondorf almost noticed her so Link has to hug him or say something to get his attention #You have to manipulate Gan as best you can #idk how it would end #Like once you break free what do you do #But the idea tickled my mind so I wanted to write it down #Yes I’m just playing with my Imprisoning War blorbos #no I don’t care #legend of zelda #skye time travels through the queue #hero of shadow

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gods-favorite-autistic · 8 months

Text

Good Omens incorrect quotes:

Aziraphale: You know, I'm starting to regret showing you how that blender works.

Crowley, drinking toast: Why do you say that?

Aziraphale: Violence isn't the answer.

Crowley: You’re right.

Aziraphale: *sighs in relief*

Crowley: Violence is the question.

Aziraphale: What?

Crowley, bolting away: And the answer is yes.

Aziraphale, running after them: NO-

Aziraphale: Do you take constructive criticism?

Crowley: I only take cash or credit.

Aziraphale: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them.

Crowley: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

Aziraphale: *Kicks the door down looking panicked*

Crowley: What did you do?

Aziraphale: Nobody died.

Crowley: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!

Aziraphale: Treat spiders the way you want to be treated.

Crowley: Killed without hesitation.

Aziraphale: No.

*how season 3 should start*

Aziraphale: Top 30 reasons why Aziraphale is sorry... Number 5 will surprise you!

Crowley: Top 30 anime deaths. Number One: YOUR FUCKING ASS RIGHT NOW!!!

Crowley: You're right.

Aziraphale: That's... That's an unusual phrase for you. Did you just learn it?

Beelzebub: I’m going to take you out

Gabriel: great, it’s a date!

Beelzebub: I meant that as a threat.

Gabriel: See you at five!

Crowley: *Walking in to a room* Sorry I’m late... I was... doing things.

*Sounds of running footsteps progressively getting louder*

Gabriel: *Out of breath* THEY PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKIN’ STAIRS.

Beelzebub: I made tea.

Crowley: I don’t want tea.

Beelzebub: I did not make tea for you. This is my tea.

Crowley: Then why are you telling me?

Beelzebub: It is a conversation starter.

Crowley: That’s a lousy conversation starter.

Beelzebub: Oh, is it? We are conversing. Checkmate.

Aziraphale: This is bothering me.

Crowley: Well, you are digging up a corpse.

Aziraphale: No, not that. That's, uh, pretty par for the course, actually.

Aziraphale: Whaddya call a fish with no eye?

Gabriel, not looking up: Myxine Circifrons

Aziraphale:

Aziraphale: fsh

Crowley: God, give me patience.

Gabriel: I think you mean 'give me strength'.

Crowley: If God gave me strength, you'd be dead.

Aziraphale: You know, not every problem can be solved with a sword.

Crowley: That's why I carry two swords.

Gabriel: So what’s for dinner?

Beelzebub, staring at the food they just burnt: Regret.

Muriel: Why are you on the floor?

Crowley: I'm depressed.

Crowley: Also I was stabbed, can you get Aziraphale, please.

Store Worker: Would a Mr. Fell please come to the front desk?

Aziraphale, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem?

Store Worker: points to Crowley and Muriel

Store Worker: I believe they belong to you?

Crowley and Muriel, simultaneously: We got lost :(

Aziraphale: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me-

Muriel: Sometimes I drink milk straight out of the container.

Crowley: The cow???

Muriel: What?

Aziraphale: Crowley, W H Y?

Aziraphale: Do you ever want to talk about your emotions, Crowley?

Crowley: … No.

Muriel: I do!

Aziraphale: I know, Muriel.

Muriel: I’m sad!

Aziraphale: I know, Muriel.

Muriel: What if I press the brake and gas at the same time?

Crowley: The car takes a screenshot.

Aziraphale: For the last time, get the fuck out.

Crowley: Aziraphale and I don’t use pet names.

Nina: I see. Hey, what are those things with the halos called again??

Crowley: Angel?

Aziraphale: Yes, dear?

Crowley:

Nina: Don't ever lie to my face again.

Muriel: I really like this whole ‘good guy, bad guy’ thing you guys have going on.

Crowley: It’s not an act, it’s just that I’m mean and Aziraphale isn’t

Aziraphale: We need a distraction.

Crowley: Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises?

Muriel, whispering: My time has come

Aziraphale: Let me show you a picture from last night that really upset me

Muriel: Okay, but in my defense, Mr. Crowley bet me 50 cents I couldn’t drink all that shampoo.

Aziraphale: That’s not what I wanted to- you drank SHAMPOO?!

Aziraphale: Crowley, keep an eye on Gabriel today. They're going to say something to the wrong person and get punched.

Crowley: Sure, I’d love to see Gabriel get punched.

Aziraphale: Try again.

Crowley, sighing: I will stop Gabriel from getting punched.

Maggie: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon?

Crowley: I'm a knife.

Aziraphale, from across the room: They're the little spoon.

Aziraphale, driving Crowley and Muriel: So how was your day?

Muriel: We almost got surprise adopted!

Aziraphale: What?

Crowley: We almost got kidnapped.

Aziraphale: Oh, okay.

Aziraphale: *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?

Aziraphale: You have to apologize to Gabriel

Crowley: Fine.

Crowley: 'Unfuck you' or whatever.

Crowley: Hey angel,

Aziraphale: Yes?

Crowley: Can a person breathe inside a washing machine while it’s on?

Aziraphale:

Aziraphale: Where’s Gabriel?

Aziraphale: WHY. why did you give Muriel a KNIFE?!

Crowley: I’m sorry. They said they felt unsafe.

Aziraphale: Now I feel unsafe!

Crowley: I’m sorry.

Crowley: ... would you like a knife?

Muriel: Hey, Mr. Crowley? Can I get some dating advice?

Crowley: Just because I’m with Aziraphale doesn’t mean I know how I did it.

Aziraphale: Crowley and I are having a baby.

Muriel: That's gre-

Aziraphale, slamming adoption papers on the table: It's you, sign here.

Muriel: Are you sure this is the right direction?

Crowley: Certainly, I'm as sure as I am honest!

Aziraphale: In that case, we're definitely lost

Muriel: What do you think Mr. Crowley will do for a distraction?

Aziraphale: They’ll probably, like, make a noise or throw a rock. That’s what I would do.

*Building explodes and several car alarms go off*

Aziraphale: ... or they could do that.

Aziraphale: I trust Crowley.

Muriel: You think they know what they're doing?

Aziraphale: I wouldn't go that far.

Aziraphale: While I’m gone, Muriel, you’re in charge.

Muriel: Yes!!!

Aziraphale, whispering: Crowley, you’re secretly in charge.

Crowley: Obviously.

Aziraphale: In your opinion, what’s the height of stupidity?

Crowley: *turning to Gabriel* How tall are you?

#featuring a lot of inneffable husbands #Crowley and Aziraphale being Muriel’s parents essentially #Aziraphale refusing to let Crowley drive with Muriel in the car #a tiny bit of inneffable bureaucracy #a whole lot of Crowley openly hating Gabriel now that he can’t get smited for that #bad influence Crowley #Maggie and Nina supporting the dumbass gays #they/them Crowley and Muriel #and just Crowley being my favorite character #maddy’s thoughts (taken straight from the brain)#good omens #good omens 2 #inneffable husbands #inneffable bureaucracy #incorrect good omens quotes

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angelltheninth · 11 months

Text

Swordplay Foreplay

Pairing: Kaeya x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, lots of teasing, neck kissing, sword practice, innuendos, cocky!Kaeya, flirty!Kaeya, flustered!Reader

Word count: 0.7k

A/N: Commissioned fic, a little spicy but its mostly teasing.

By the time you walked outside in your training bra and shorts, with your sword grasped tightly in your hand, Kaeya had already been long at work. He had his hair tied in a higher ponytail then normal to prevent sweating even more then he already was in on a warm sunny day.

As much as he loved being your dashing knight in blue vests but ever since the day that you expressed the desire to learn sword-fighting he couldn't have been more eager to get started. You'd almost swear he wore the lowcut white shirt deliberately, your eyes drawn to his dark skin, shining with sweat over his muscles and vanishing down below the cut.

"Ready for your lesson, beautiful?" He was the beautiful one, "It's your first time so I promise I'll go easy on you." What he threw you wasn't exactly a wink because of his eyepatch but you could see by the little way he cocked his head to the side that it was his intention to wink at you.

"I'm not made of glass, I'll be more then fine Kaeya." You cocked your hand on your hip, rolling your eyes much to his amusement and giggle.

"I know you will. You always take everything I give you." Without missing a beat he smirked at you with that small smile that he knew did things to your body that were not appropriate for sword practice. "We should stretch first. Follow my lead." Kaeya walked over to the clearing and let his blade lean against the tree trunk, you followed, not wanting to let the pretty sight of him vanish. "This will be really easy if you keep following my instructions like that."

Every word hit a cord that it shouldn't have, your body was already hot and you didn't even get through the stretches yet. He wasn't even one doing them, having already warmed up, no Kaeya was leaning comfortably against the tree, arms crosses over his chest and telling you what to do, clapping his hands to signal a change.

"Alright, that's good enough, don't get too tired. Drink some water." He offered you the bottle, beckoning you into the shade. He rummaged through his backpack and pulled out a clean towel, "Hold still, et me wipe this off you."

You let out a sigh as you felt the towel smoothing over your shoulders and back, and you, sadly, weren't able to hold back your moan. "It's uh- ahem, a little cold."

"That so? My apologies." The so called apology was followed with a firm kiss on your shoulder. "Better?"

"Shut up, you cocky captain." You brushed him off and picked up the sword, "Aren't you supposed to teach me how to handle one of these?" The blade slid out of its sheath, the metal shining in the sunlight.

Kaeya raised his eyebrow at you, slowly taking to his own sword and walking a circle around you, "For starters, your stance is wrong, you'll be knocked over easily like this. I know you like when I do it but it'd hate to see you let yourself be pinned so easily by opponents." His hand pressed onto your hip and moved it, his leg pushing yours to the side just a little, "Firm stance, back straight, eyes forward at all times." Easy when the sight before you was Kaeya's bare chest, "And already setting your sights on a good spot to attack I see. Smart girl."

Heat crept up your face, but not from the sun or the exercise earlier.

"And your grip on the hilt, like this." Kaeya's rough fingers caressed your hand before moving it, "Firm, but don't let it dig into your hand too much, you'll get tired that way. Now, move your arm back and forth at the elbow, one leg stepping out and then back, a stabbing motion. One!"

The sun was setting by the time you got to the hundredth stoke, "Fuck! I think my hand's gonna fall off." You sat against the tree, chest heaving as you took in deep breaths.

"I hope not, its so talented." Kaeya sat down next to you, "We can take a little break."

"Break? We're not done?" You looked at him, eyes wide.

"Done? Oh baby, you have more stamina then this, I know it. Do you need a little motivation maybe?" Motivation? For some reason you had the feeling that his motivation will leave you even more tired. "I'll take that hungry staring as a yes." He leaned forward, hand on your cheek, giving you one last chance to pull away before his lips pressed against yours. "Let me see that stamina at work."

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #kaeya imagines #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #kaeya fluff #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #kaeya x you #genshin impact x female reader #genshin x female reader #kaeya x female reader #genshin impact fanfics #genshin fanfic #kaeya fanfic

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cemeteryspider · 3 months

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Strings of Fate: The Puppet-Master

Luke Castellan x Child of Poseidon!/Blood-Bender! Reader

Summary: The reader finds themself in the throws of a God's war, learning about themself and the world around them. They decide the confide in Luke Castellan about their unique ability to manipulate the water in blood.

~Sorry if Luke is a little OOC I tried my best~

Trigger Warnings: Self-harm *one instance and is healed quickly*, Canon Typical Violence, Blood, Loss of a Loved One *Sally Jackson*, and Emotional Distress

As Sally Jackson’s oldest child, I've always been a little overprotective of my little brother Percy Jackson. This included taking the fall for him at school so his transcript stayed as clean as possible. I became a force to be reckoned with because people beat up on Percy, and after a while, no one wanted to mess with Percy’s psycho older sibling. Or at our latest school when Percy stabbed through his pre-algebra teacher with a gleaming golden sword that was a ballpoint pen the moment before, and I tried my best to mitigate the situation.

After that, life was a blur. Going to the cabin and learning about our dad was a crazy moment because Mom rarely spoke about him. Yet, we were utterly unprepared for the loss of our mother.

“You are my children, brave the storm. I love you.”

Then we were running away from our mom and away from the minotaur. We saw Sally Jackson turn to dust in the minotaur’s grasp, and in a second, Percy was running back and fighting the minotaur. Grover grabbed my arm and shook his head at me, but I ripped away and ran towards the only family I know I have left.

On his back, holding one of the minotaur’s horns in his hands and groaning, I shouted at the thing towering over him ready to strike in a moments notice.

“Hey! Get away from him!”

It turned toward me and huffed at me. For a moment I was scared, then I started throwing rocks. I was angry and used as much force possible. Then it grasped me in its fist like mom and started to squeeze. I began to give up, but then something spoke to me.

“Reach out, Y/n, take control.”

Following the advice literally, I extended my hand toward the minotaur. Closing my eyes, I waited, striving for control. Its hold around me loosened, and I found myself taking a look at what’s happening around me. I got a glimpse of the minotaur’s blood flowing from its nose into the air. Percy jumped into the air and stabbed the back of the minotaur’s skull with its own horn.

~~~

Luke put his arm around my shoulders when I stopped reciting the story and gave me a little squeeze.

“Hey, it's gonna be okay. We’re going to figure this out together.”

I tucked my face in the crook of his neck and kept crying. The night was cool around us in the woods near the cabins.

“I’m so scared, and I just don’t know what’s happening to me. I mean, what am I supposed to do? I’m just trying to keep it together for Percy because he’s already scared and upset, but I’m scared and upset too, Luke.”

He put his hand on my head and threaded his fingers through my hair. Luke let me cry until I calmed down, and I decided I wanted to show him.

“Give me your dagger…”

“What?”

“Please, I need to prove it to myself… I’m not crazy.”

He slid the dagger from his sheath and flipped it to hand me the hilt. I quickly and carefully split the inside of my palm open. Luke took a sharp intake of breath as I squeezed my hand into a fist.

“Y/n, what are you doing?”

I unclenched my fist and focused on the cut. I closed my eyes and let myself be in control.

“How the Hades are you doing that?”

Again, I allowed my eyes to open, and my blood was flowing around my hand and into the air. After a deep breath, my blood hit the floor of the forest.

“Come here.”

He held out his hand, and I took it in my not bloody one as he led me to a small creek not too far away. He submerged my hand into the creek, and it started to heal immediately.

“Thanks, Luke. I just… I’m not crazy.”

“I believed you before, you know.”

“Maybe I didn’t,” I said quietly.

He enveloped me in his arms, and I allowed myself to fall apart completely. After all this time of keeping Percy out of trouble and protecting him, it felt nice to be held and taken care of.

“Come on, let's get you to bed, and we’ll talk in the morning. Okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

After a minute, he pulled away and led me by the hand to Cabin 3 carefully, avoiding the harpies looking for campers out of bed.

“Could you stay?”

“I can do that, as long as you don’t mind getting up a little early and waking up Hermes Cabin.”

“Yeah, I can do that with you.”

“I’m going to sleep in Percy’s bed so I don’t crowd you, you know.”

“Yeah, just with Percy gone, it’s lonely… I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t sharing a room with someone.”

“I’ll be here. Get to sleep, I’m sure you’re tired.”

I tiredly climbed into my bed as Luke climbed into the bed that Percy slept in not a day ago. As I went to sleep, I heard Luke’s soft breaths fill the cabin.

~~~

I woke up with a start, and Luke had his hand on my arm.

“Hey, Hey, you’re okay. You just had a bad dream Darling. You’re okay. Take some deep breaths.”

I quickly blinked, vaguely remembering the nightmare I had. I saw Mom disintegrating into nothing, and then Percy in the minotaur’s fist, life draining from his eyes and disintegrating into nothing. Particles of ash mingling with Mom’s.

“Breathe with me, Y/n. In and out. In and out.”

I slowly matched my erratic breathing with his, and as the minutes went by, I started to calm down.

“See, you’re okay. I promise everything is okay. You’re safe.”

“T-thank you, Luke… Sorry for waking you up.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I just want to help you, Darling.”

“Still…”

A couple more deep breaths.

“Are you okay now, darling?”

“I’m okay now, thank you.”

“I’m gonna go back to sleep so I can get up in a few hours, okay?”

He took one step, and I reached for his hand.

“Could you… hold me, please?”

He just smiled at me and lifted the covers to get underneath.

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #child of poseidon #pjo x reader

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jze010 · 11 months

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╭﹐❣︎﹕ I Like You ﹒〣 ﹕‹𝟹 － 𝖲𝖠𝖭𝖤𝖬𝖨 𝖲. 𝖴𝖹𝖴𝖨 𝖳. 𝖸𝖮𝖱𝖨𝖨𝖢𝖧𝖴 𝖳. 𝖦𝖨𝖸𝖴𝖴 𝖳.

cw/tw. fluff, angst, black!reader, hashira!reader

an. should i make this a two parter? 👀 Also you’re the Moon Hashira.

summary.- they start to realize their feelings for you.

𝖲𝖠𝖭𝖤𝖬𝖨 𝖲𝖧𝖨𝖭𝖠𝖹𝖴𝖦𝖠𝖶𝖠

★ 𝖱𝗂𝗏𝖺𝗅𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌

Last thing you remembered was Sanemi holding the box before stabbing his sword through it. You stood there with a side glare watching everything unfold, you so badly wanted to face the bastard on but you were already in enough trouble with the master and everyone else. You clenched your fist around your sword lifting it from its holder debating if you should disobey yourself and protect Nezuko, seeing Sanemi laugh in Tanjiro’s face made your blood boil, you snarled at the sight lifting your sword out more but a hand stopped you. You looked over towards Tomioka who shook his head, “Don’t.” He softly mumbled, you furrowed your eyebrows letting your hand relax but when you heard Tanjiro scream you snapped your head towards his direction,

“Whoever harms Nezuko answers to me! I don’t give a damn if you’re one of the Hashira!” He yelled, Sanemi chuckled in response, ripping his sword out of his box splashing the blood off his blade moving his gaze towards you, “I’m surprised to see you here..(Y/N).” You gripped tighter around your handle growling at his tone as he grinned, “You protecting this demon girl goes against the rules. But you already know that..you are a Hashira after all,” He chuckled, right before he was about to stab the box again you were quick to get there.

You withdrew your sword and in a flash you stood in front of Tanjiro pointing your sword towards him with a dark glare, “Why don’t you be reasonable for once and listen jackass. Nezuko hasn’t eaten a human the entire time I was with them, she would never hurt or think about doing it you damn bastard.” You snarled moving your sword more forward as Sanemi glared at you with a shit eating smirk, “Yeah? But what if she does eat a human? That boy and this girl will both be executed as well for you and Tomioka receiving a punishment. Isn’t that right Tomioka?” He questioned staring at the water Hashira who kept a stern look with a scowl on his face,

“He’s right (Y/N). If she does manage to eat a human we’ll have no other choice but to kill them and punish you and Tomioka.” Shinobu added, staring at the brown box that was held into his hand, you scoffed, “And I'm willing to take the consequences for it. Kill me, punish me, I don't give a damn what you do, I'll protect these two like they’re my own.” Staring into your eyes you weren’t lying nor bluffing, you were dedicated to do anything for them, you swore you would protect them and that’s what you were gonna do. Sanemi scoffed, “If that’s the case then i should just behead you then, you and that mouth always pissed me off.” He gripped his sword in hand also lifting it towards your neck placing it onto your skin feeling the blades scratch against it, from afar you heard Tanjiro snarl as he fought against the kakushi standing up from the ground glaring at him, “You bastard!” He yelled dashing towards Sanemi who looked up at him taking his guard away from you, this gave you the chance to drop your sword onto the rubble ground quick to grab his scared arm pulling him close to you, giving you the perfect distance to head butt him.

He stumbled back from the harsh impact growling in pain staring at you with a look that could kill, “Why you little-“ He was interrupted when Tanjiro came flying in also head butting him knocking him and himself to the ground. You stared down at the white haired Hashira, squatting down gripping his hair, lifting him up to glare into his eyes as he glared into yours, you leaned down a little, “You answer to me for now you got that? Lay a finger on them and I'll kill you.”

Ever since the Hashira’s meeting you and Sanemi have both been avoiding each other. He hasn’t seen you nor has you seen him and you were gonna keep it that way, you of course went instantly to check on Nezuko after the whole accident worried as shit but your worries we’re drowned when you heard she was fine and she’s been sleeping the whole time after the incident. It’s been 2 weeks since all of it happened and you and Sanemi were still avoiding each other, but when you guys do come across paths you would shoot him a dirty look purposely bumping into his shoulder hearing a snarl leave him with a shit eating grin on your face. He was honestly getting sick of your attitude but soon that changed when this unknowingly feeling came..

It all started when one day you guys got assigned to do a mission together. Obviously you were against it but from masters orders you obeyed not willing to argue or get in trouble with him..again. Surprisingly the whole time it was quiet between you both, you didn’t say anything nor did he say anything, on the way there to the location your crow said to go there was a strange noise coming from a distance. You and Sanemi both stopped to hear closely enough to what it was, it sounded like a group of people coming this way. Almost in a flash you were pinned against a tree in the shadows with Sanemi close to you, you furrowed your eyebrows ready to protest but turned into a muffle when he put his hand on your mouth keeping you from talking. You lifted your arm to rip his hand away but in swiftness he grabbed your wrist also pinning it to the bark giving you no choice but to stay there with a irritated look,

He felt your glare being on him, quietly sighing. “Stop throwing me glares you damn brat, we’re not supposed to be seen by anyone. Did you forget?” His deep voice sent shivers down your spine feeling his breath hit your ear lobe, you sucked in a big breath but nodded your head not causing anymore disruptions, he grinned, “Good girl.” He said teasing, making you scoff, shaking your head but not going past how you got butterflies hearing the praise. Hearing the footsteps fade away, he looked to check out if there were any more people coming by. When he noticed no one else was coming he sighed in relief letting your wrist go, uncovering your mouth. Instead of getting mad at him and tryna cuss him out you just stood there feeling things after what happened, your breath hitched as the moment from seconds ago replayed in your head.

For some reason you missed his warmth when he was close to you…you were missing it. And your eyes couldn’t stop staring at his lips..didn’t you hate the guy?? Why are these feelings forming? Oh no…are you starting to have feelings for him?? Sanemi turned back to you to tell you to continue forward but stopped seeing how your whole body language changed. He raised a brow in response, it was quiet between the both of you with crickets and other insects chirping through the night, you blinked a couple of times before coming back to reality pushing him away from you getting off the tree fixing your Kamodo, “We should get going.” You mumbled, starting to walk ahead without waiting for him, as confused as Sanemi was, he didn't bother to question it, clicking his tongue in response, feeling this butterfly feeling in his stomach he followed you.

And this is where he started to realize he was indeed starting to like you.

Sanemi laid onto his futon still thinking about what happened on the mission. He couldn’t stop thinking about how close you guys were and you staring at his lips, your beautiful (E/C) eyes staring at you with those plumped kissable lips..ugh he groaned irritated,

“Fuck you (Y/N).”

𝖴𝖹𝖴𝖨 𝖳𝖤𝖭𝖦𝖤𝖭

★ 𝖥𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌

“Now, remember what i told you three. Please be careful, and if you guys need any help-“

“If we encounter a demon send out a crow, yes we know (Y/N). You don’t have to worry about us, we'll be okay.” Tanjiro reassured you by watching how worried you were, and sighed softly. “How can i not worry when there could possibly be an upper moon out there? Just please if anything happens don’t hesitate to call for me, all of you.” You glanced towards Inosuke and Zenitsu and back to Tanjiro who smiled, “Trust me, we’ll be safe for your sake and ours. Don’t worry!”

“Yeah! Don’t worry about us (Y/N)! I’ll make you proud when I find this demon!” Inosuke yelled proudly, softly smiling in return from his passionate mood you patted his head, Zenitsu also nodded his head in agreement, “Yeah, we’ll be fine, just worry about doing your job and not getting yourself killed.” He added on, they were right they’ll be fine (Y/N) you’ve seen how they can fight on their own..they’ll be fine.

They’ll be okay.

It’s been a good three days since the three went to their assigned houses and you couldn’t help but be worried sick for them, you had a bad feeling there was an upper moon here you felt it in your gut, you and Tengen were both ontop of the roof patrolling over the houses to see if any activities of demons are in sight, you were standing staring into the calm night as Tengen sat besides you sensing your nervousness. By the way you kept shifting from one foot to another made you completely obvious, he sighed, “You know, you worry too much.” He said, your breath hitched looking down at him who continued looking into the night, you clicked your tongue facing back to the sky, “You think so?” You questioned and he nodded his head, huffing standing up as well now turning his attention to you, “Ever since we left those three brats you’ve been nothing but worried about them. I’m sure they’re doing fine.” You turned your gaze back to his, glancing into his red eyes as he looked back into your (E/C) eyes sighing. “I can't really help it. They mean too much to me for me to just not care about them, they look up to me as their big sister and i’m not gonna discard that title to them. I have a gut feeling that an upper moon is here, ever since we got here i had a weird feeling about this place.” You huffed rubbing your arms up and down, Tengen almost looked surprised by the confession, you really took that title to the extreme huh?

But was he really that surprised about how you’re acting? Ever since that day when he seen you at the butterfly mansion he seen how protective you looked when he insulted the three. You were really an interesting girl, in response he grinned placing a hand on his hip, “You really care about them that much, huh?” You nodded your head, “Of course, i would do anything for them.” You smiled looking away from him as he hummed staring into the dark night. He also realized how different your uniform was from the rest of three, we’re you also a Hashira? He hasn’t seen you around before, “Are you perhaps a Hashira?” He questioned breaking the silence, now your secret was up. You thought he wouldn’t notice but maybe you were too obvious, you softly sighed nodding your head, “(Y/N) (L/N), the moon Hashira. I didn’t think i was gonna be that obvious.” You chuckled side glancing at him hearing a low chuckle leave him as well, “Well that makes you even more interesting, how come i’ve never you seen you around before?” You shrugged your shoulders, “Im not really around that much at headquarters, you’ll be lucky enough to catch me passing by back to my room. It’s nothing too much,” Tengen nodded his head with a hum, “Welcome to the team then, (Y/N).”

Butterfliesssssss.

You smiled softly, “Thank you.”

Ever since that night, you guys had became closer. More talkative with one another, and more friendly with each other, you have to admit you were gaining interest into him. I mean how couldn’t you? Once you got to know him you viewed him differently, he’s still a cocky ass nigga but other than that he’s really sweet to you more sweet than the three brats he loves to call them. Every night when patrolling over the houses you guys would crack jokes every now and then, having interesting conversations. “Wait wait so you’re telling me, when you first met that boar kid you actually thought it was a real life boar?.” He questioned with a grin as you rolled your eyes pushing him away with a small laugh, “Yeah! I mean I think it was just because i was exhausted, plus i was getting thrown around into different rooms for an hour straight. I still don’t understand why he wears the thing, it creeps me out.” You shrugged staring into the sky watching the stars shine through the night, Tengen chuckled himself. “But other than that I grew to get used to it.“ You sighed, turning your head to stare at him as he was already staring at you. It was quiet between you both, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence instead it was more comfortable, but getting flustered from the long eye contact you looked away pushing some of your hair back.

You don’t know why but you were starting to like him and luckily for you he was starting to like you as well. After this mission he was definitely gonna ask the question of if you wanna be his fourth wife, you can even meet Hina, Suma and Makio, he has a feeling they’ll have a good liking of you. Especially Makio,

It was the fifth day of the mission and currently you, Inosuke and Tanjiro were talking about what Inosuke saw. He was doing these weird gestures making you both heavily confused on what he was trying to say, “Inosuke slow down please and calm down-“

“CALM DOWN?! I'M TRYING TO SHOW YOU GUYS WHAT I SAW!” You sighed in defeat about to talk but Tanjiro beat you to it, “Let’s just wait till Mr. Uzui and Zenitsu comes, then we’ll-“ He got interrupted, “Zenitsu isn’t gonna be joining us.” You three both looked towards were Tengen was, where the hell did he come from? And what the hell does he mean?. “What do you mean he won’t be joining us?.” You questioned standing up staring at the back of his head, you heard Tengen sigh almost sadly, “Zenitsu has gone missing.” Missing? Your breath hitched, “Missing? What do you mean missing Uzui?” He kept quiet which made you confused and slightly irritated, “Uzui answer the question.” You mumbled walking towards the taller Hashira who still kept quiet, him keeping quiet like this was making your blood boil. He wasn’t answering nor saying anything, your hands clenched and unclenched due to anger starting to take over, Tanijiri saw this from afar standing up to try and get ahold of you to calm you down, “Wait (Y/N) let’s talk about this-“ He was interrupted by a flinch when saw you force Uzui to look at you, you glared into his eyes as he stared into yours, “Answer the goddamn question Tengen. What do you mean Zenitsu is missing.”

He sighed, closing his eyes, avoiding to look into your anger ones, “After last night I lost all communication with him, I feel bad for dragging you four into this. I was too worried into saving my wives. I forgot the point of the mission.” Wait..wives? He has a wife? wait no he said wives..so does that mean he has more than one? Your heart started to race, feeling your stomach drop, due to hearing that one of your little brothers was missing and the other that you were liking an already taken man. Not hearing a single thing being heard from you, he brought his eyes back to you to see hurt and anger linger in them, he opened his mouth to speak but closed it, sighing in response. “I’m sorry but I'm gonna continue this mission on my own, those two are too weak to fight if it’s an upper moon. Take them back to headquarters,” With that he vanished into thin air leaving you to stare where he currently was,

Tanjiro could smell the sadness and anger that was lingering around you, he went to grab your hand but you turned away from him, “Are you okay (N/N)?)

“I’m fine. Let’s just go find Zenitsu.”

𝖸𝖮𝖱𝖨𝖨𝖢𝖧𝖨 𝖳𝖲𝖴𝖦𝖨𝖪𝖴𝖭𝖨

★ 𝖲𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌

Yoriichi Tsugikuni. He was a strange man, he was quiet and not so talkative with anyone. So when you were first introduced to the others he was the only one who didn’t greet you during the entire thing, the others reassure you that Yoriichi wasn’t a very talkative person and is very stoic which you completely understood not bothering to talk to him or force him. But you’ve made friends with other Hashira’s Enjuro who was the flame Hashira, Takeshi who was the wind Hashira, Shin who was the thunder Hashira, Yusuke who was the water Hashira, and more, they were all wonderful people making you guys instantly click.

But there was one thing that was bothering you and it was Yoriichi. You really wanted to talk to him or try to get to know him, so your new goal was to try to talk to him! It was later in the evening and you just gotten done eating dinner heading back to where you were sleeping when something catches your eye making you stop in your tracks, you hummed to yourself as you saw a figure in the distance training by themselves, you were gonna head back but the way their movements made you go into a trance. It was so satisfying watching how they moved in sync with their sword, and breathing techniques, soon enough the movements came to a stop as the person placed his sword back into its holder. You squint your eyes to see if you could figure out who it was..he was wearing a red Kamodo, red and black sword, long red and black hair- wait was that who you thought it was? Maybe you were blind but you could have swore that was Yoriichi, maybe you were trippin. Right when you we’re about to walk away Yoriichi turned around to come in contact with you, his hard red eyes staring into your (E/C) eyes making you stop in your tracks.

Fuck! I wasn’t trying to get caught!. You gulped down that lump in your throat what the fuck should i do? Should i say hi? Should i just walk away?? You thought but without realizing you brought your hand up and waved at him, oh my god this is so embarrassing why did i wave at him?! You were mentally freaking out to yourself as you both continued to hold that eye contact expecting him to ignore you and walk away acting like nothing happened but instead…he gave you a small smile nodding his head. You don’t know why but that same night as you were laid in your futon staring at the ceiling you couldn’t stop thinking about the response he gave you, butterflies were starting to roam around your stomach as your heart began to beat fast just thinking about the small moment you both shared.

He smiled at me..

You smiled to yourself hugging your pillow. That’s some progress done..now on to actually talking to him, it took you a few days…cough a week to courage up and talk to him..too embarrassed about that night but you managed! Walking through the front lawn you spotted him in the training circle that was circled with lights shining light around the area, walking carefully through the path not trying to be too loud or distract him of some sort. Coming to an end with his training placing his sword back into its holster he turned around to spot you making your way towards him, for some reason finally seeing you after that night made his heart race but he had to keep his composure so he just stared at you as you made your way over.

Time for the hard time, what the duck do i say? “Hi Yoriichi i was wondering if i could train with you?” Ew no.. “Hey! I was coming over to check on you.” That’s also a no..ugh just be yourself (Y/N), he won’t mind just be yourself. Clearing your throat you looked into his eyes, nervously waving your hand, “Uh hi..” Yoriichi stared at you with a soft look but not saying a thing. You began to become fidgety from the awkward silence clearing your throat. “Is it okay if I train with you? You don’t have to say yes I just need a sparring partner,” You asked, staring into his eyes as he nodded his head almost in an instant which made a smile form. “Wait really?!” And again he nodded his head with a smile of his own making your heart rate increase,

The sparing training actually went well and it was fun! You learned more about his breathing technique and how it works and his swordsman skills were amazing. In a blink of an eye he could have his sword pointing towards your neck without making it obvious…which happened to you multiple times but you had him in some times! Just sometimes he may or may not have the upper hand but still! It was past hour, and you and Yoriichi we're still training with each other you were over here breaking a sweat while he looked squeaky clean. The score was currently 3 - ….35 but no one has to know that, Yoriichi was silently smiling to himself watching you pant with your sword laid next to you as you were also laid on the ground, this was absolute bull there was no way this guy isn’t breaking a sweat right now. You lifted your head to meet with his eyes as he had a smile on his face, and there it was again..that smile he did the other night that made you go insane in your room.

Ugh this is so embarrassing, how the hell did i manage to become a Hashira compared to him? You didn’t realize you were talking aloud to yourself till you heard Yoriichi footsteps make their way towards where you laid, “You became a Hashira because you were chosen to. Never look down on yourself,”. A soft gentle voice spoke out, you felt yourself freeze turning your head to look at Yoriichi. Did he just speak? Is he talking to me?? He chuckled once more, “Yes i’m talking to you,” How the hell can he understand what i’m saying?!? Is he secretly a mind reader? Again Yoriichi kept that same smile on his face shaking his head, “No i am not a mind reader, you’re talking out loud.” Oh. “Oh..WAIT I WAS?!” Nice going (Y/N) you’re just embarrassing yourself even more, before you could even think about burying yourself deep in a hole and never coming back out a hand patted you on top of your head taking you out of your trance.

You looked up at Yoriichi who looked down at you with soft eyes, “Let’s continue training yeah? I can teach you another moon breath technique.” He was making your tummy do flips and tricks and you’re pretty sure if it was possible you would’ve been red as a tomato, you smiled in response picking up your sword in hand,

“I would like that.”

𝖦𝖨𝖸𝖴 𝖳𝖮𝖬𝖨𝖮𝖪𝖠

★ 𝖥𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌

“She’s still going at it, huh?” Zenitsu asked hearing Tanjiro sigh sadly nodding his head, “She’s been out there for the past 2 hours now, ever since she was released she’s been training.” It was true, ever since Shinobu released you, you’ve been non stop training ignoring her words, “Now, promise me you won’t train or do anything. For at least a month so your injuries can heal.” She stated clearly as you rolled your eyes, “You’re acting like i’m gonna disobey your rules,” She sighed, shaking her head, “It’s because you always do. Just this once (Y/N) don’t be stubborn and listen to me. You’re the moon Hashira and we can’t lose you.” And yet you didn’t listen to her, you wanted to get better and stronger, you wanted to not be weak.

The mission with the upper six was a complete disaster, you were useless during the entire thing. You were weak during the entire time, if it wasn’t for Tengen and Tanjiro saving you from Gyutaro you would’ve been dead by now. Ever since Kyojuro died you’ve been nothing but weak, you’ve lost your strengths, you’ve lost everything and now you aren't gonna stop till you get back to that strong (Y/N) you were before. You were a Hashira dammit. The two boys watched you from afar as you slashed the three demon dummies heads with one of your moon breathings,

This time it was slow as ever groaning at the speed distance. Cmon dammit! You’re just getting slower and slower by the day. You heaved heavily as you gripped your sword in hand getting ready to do another attack, you breathed in feeling your heart race dashing towards the dummy when you were close to it you jumped in the air high swinging your sword. Moon breathing second form, dashing eclipse! A mist of black flowed out of your sword as you dashed towards the dummy disappearing into thin air before coming close to its head, slicing it off landing behind the stand stumbling to your knees. Fuck..your body was starting to reach its limit, everywhere started to ache and you felt like your wounds are gonna reopen soon if you don’t stop.

But you just couldn’t..you couldn’t stop now. You still have so much work to do to get to your goal you can’t quite, you won’t quite. You hissed using your sword to stand yourself back up facing another demon dummy, you legs were becoming wobbly as well as your vision starting to blur, you breathed in gripping the sword handle getting ready do another attack, moon breathing first form..moon danc- Your breath got caught in your throat feeling a presence standing beside you and a hand on your sword, “That’s enough.” A voice spoke, you looked over to spot Giyu looking at you with a stern look. You tried to move your sword out of his grasp but due to you being weak your strength wasn’t all the way there making it easier for him to hold it in his grasp, you scoffed. “Buzz off Tomioka, you don’t tell me what to do.” You scowled glaring into his water eyes as he simply just stared at you sighing in response, “Stop being so reckless and rest. You’re still wounded,” Again you scoffed tugging one more tug using your remaining strength to take your sword out of his grasp, stumbling a little, “I’m fine okay? See? Perfectly fine,” You said throwing your arms in the air, Tomioka didn’t believe it one bit you had scars over your body, nose, arm, legs, there were bruises forming, you were wobbly and he can see some blood seeking through the white Kamodo, your wounds reopened.

Not realizing your wounds had reopened, you stumbled back to get ready for another attack. But the way your vision was becoming blurry and your stomach aching more than it was before, you dropped your sword lazily placing a hand on your stomach feeling blood soak through your Kamodo, “Fuck..” In a second you went unconscious from lost blood, before you could hit the ground Tomioka caught you in swiftness laying your head on his arm, he tsk. “Tch, you can never listen to anyone can you.” He mumbled, you breathed softly as you were knocked out cold. He faced his attention to the bloody wound that was leaking, without much thought he picked you up bridal style and brought you to the butterfly mansion.

A week later

It’s been a week since the accident happened and ever since you’ve been unconscious Tanjiro, Zenitsu and Inosuke made sure to come visit you leaving you your favorite flowers, staying with you for a little before getting reported to go on a mission..and unexpectedly Tomioka also visited you..almost the entire time you were unconscious. Day and night he made it his routine to visit you, even if it was for five minutes he still wanted to see you, it was strange to see him like this. Shinobu found it extremely suspicious of his actions whenever she would come in to check on you, she one time found him asleep one night besides you on the chair. It was weird but she caught on with him…he likes you but try’s so hard to not make it obvious.

At least to her.

It took awhile for you to actually wake up but when you did you were caught by a surprise. You woke up to the sun beaming through the curtains groaning from the brightness, you sat up slightly but stopped feeling a head on your lap. You furrowed your eyebrows looking down to spot the familiar black haired. Your breath hitched from the sudden surprise not knowing if you should wake him up or not…but he looked so peaceful. His warm skin shining bright through the sun, his hair slightly fluffed out and a mess, he looked so cute, you softly sighed to yourself placing your bandaged hand on top of his head playing with his hair. You swore you felt him move more against your hand when he felt your hands on top of it,

For a moment it was peaceful, the birds chirping through the sky, the bright sun shining down with a blue sky. After a few minutes or so Shinobu arrived with a tray of fresh bandages, when she looked up she was caught with a surprise, you were awake and Tomioka was still there from before. “(Y/N)..you’re awake?” Hearing her soft voice occur through the room you turned your attention to the insect Hashira, “How long have i been asleep for?” Shinobu sighed looking down, “Almost two weeks, if Tomioka hadn’t stopped you that night you would’ve gone into a coma for a month or two due to your wounds, loss of blood and no energy in your system. (Y/N) I told you to stay away from training till you were done recovering, you’re lucky he was there to stop you.”

And here comes the scolding, you grumbled to yourself looking down to face the sleeping Hashira that was on your lap sighing in frustration, “I just couldn’t help it okay? Ever since Kyojuro I..” You stopped mid way, breathing out sadly, Shinobu saw how your era changed with swiftness, you were upset, you were angry, you were feeling so many emotions at once. She set down the tray next to your bed touching your arm softly, “It’s been rough on you i understand, you were his former Tsugoku it’s been hitting hard on you. Just please, take it easy on yourself, no training and I mean that.” She stated clearly, you huffed rolling your eyes, “Yeah yeah wtv.” Right before Shinobu was about to scold you for your attitude you both turned your head hearing Tomioka groan softly shifting on your lap but staying asleep.

Shinobu grinned seeing how your gaze was soft and gentle looking at him with your hands playing in his hair, she knows those eyes…the same eyes that shouted being lovesick, “He likes you, you know.” You swore you felt your heart start beating fast, you couldn’t help that stupid smile form on your face hearing that..in all honesty youve been gaining some type of interest for him. It all started when a mission happened..it was overnight due to a snow storm happening, you two ending up in a cabin that luckily still had the perfect resources. It all happened when you guys were sleep..for some reason you guys were cuddling up with each other with his hands wrapped around your waist and head in between your neck. You bit your bottom lip from the memory continuing to look down at him,

“He likes me?”

( ͡❛ ෴ ͡❛)

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