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cannedpickledpeaches · 12 days

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Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to part one, two, three, four, five, six, eight, nine, ten!

Notes and TW: Jade doesn't care much about the hierarchy of the mafia when it comes to you. This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

Tags: @guava-writes @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe @chikitasmol

It’s a common song and dance. Small organizations sometimes come to the Leech Mafia in hopes of garnering support for their coups. Walrus asked Jade to “lend” you to her. You’re more surprised at her audacity than her motivations.

“You’re trying to replace the Carpenter?” You occasionally see the leader of the Carpenter Mafia at formal functions. A tall, thin man with a disproportionately large head and wheedling voice. Friendly and charismatic on the surface, but known for his underhanded methods of luring people in, stranding them, and devouring them. An insatiable man who takes as much as he can get his hands on.

“Yes, so I humbly came to ask for help.” She places a hand on her chest and furrows her brows. “The Carpenter is a money-obsessed, greedy man who exploits all those who fall into his trap. I can’t watch him go on anymore. Call me a hopeful idiot, but I think with enough determination, even seven maids with seven mops could clear all the sand on a beach in half a year.”

If you were someone else entirely, maybe you would have fallen for her act. That pained look on her face and her poetic description of her tenacity could move a heart made of stone. However, you’ve spent a major portion of your life knowing Jade. You could recognize that duplicitous sorrow anywhere.

“What kind of mafia doesn’t have any suffering?” You won’t pretend the Leech Mafia is a good organization, either. There are monetary benefits, but mafias are built on cruelty, discipline, and fear of the pecking order. For example, if you dislike the way something was done, you have the authority to make sure the offending soldier who carried out the task disappears by sunset.

Walrus smiles. “I strive to create an organization where we can depend on each other.”

“And you want me to help you, huh. Is that why you told your men to attack me? It was a test to see if I meet your expectations.”

“You’re so cute, you know that? You ask questions when you already know the answer. I hope I didn’t upset you.”

No wonder why Jade looks so displeased. He likes to play pranks of that nature on you as well, but he becomes defensive when anyone else tries. What a hypocrite.

“I’m not upset.” As two-faced as Walrus is, you find that you don’t hate it. In the underbelly of society, this is what it takes to not only survive, but to claw your way to the top. In her own way, she is admirable. “Well, tell us what you want and what you’ll give us. This is a negotiation, right?”

“I’m just asking for the basics. Soldiers and weapons, that’s all. Can you spare me a hundred men?” She asks this nonchalantly, but surely she must know the weight of her question. One hundred men on land when the Leech Mafia operates mainly in the Coral Sea is a tall order. Such a number would impact your own operations in the Queendom of Roses. Again, this is expected. When you have more to lose in a negotiation, it is standard to ask for more than what you hope for.

“What a daring question. You are also quite the greedy person, Walrus.” Jade folds his hands on his desk. “Surely you have prepared something of equal value.”

“Of course.” Walrus pulls out a twisting gold wand inlaid with a red jewel. With a flick of her wrist, an image of a man appears in the air. “This is the man who cursed your parents, Jade Leech.”

A shadow passes over his face. This must be a bluff. How are you supposed to believe her when she declared such a thing without proof? To your surprise, Jade does not challenge her claim.

“That matches my findings.” Jade lowers his chin, his sharp gaze scrutinizing her. “What of it?”

“He’s dead. Carpenter personally got rid of him. No use for someone who managed to screw up an assassination, right?” She taps her wand to the image. It becomes a map with a glowing red dot south of the Coral Sea. “One of my friends has a Signature Spell that can analyze dead bodies. If we get his corpse, she should be able to figure out exactly what curse was cast on your parents. His body was dumped around here in the ocean, so you’ll need to retrieve it.”

Jade’s shoulders tense. You glance at the rigid line of his jaw. Softly, you place your hand on his shoulder blade. Calm down. A beat passes. He takes a breath and relaxes his muscles.

“Your proposal is hypothetical. There is no guarantee your friend will be able to deduce what spell was used. In the scenario which she does, there still remains the question of whether or not it can be cured.”

“It’s better than knowing nothing, right? I’ve been working for you for a month. I know there’s been no progress with your parents’ condition.” Her eyes glint. “Honestly, you should be happy to get any kind of lead.”

She has a way with words. At this rate, she will gain the upper hand of the negotiation. You stand still and believe in Jade and his silver tongue. He is not the type of person who will walk away from a discussion having lost more than he gained.

“You knew about the attempt on my parents’ lives, and yet you did nothing while under our employment.” Jade leans forward in his seat and stares her down. “Why didn’t you tell us you knew something about it? Withholding information from us until you can use it as a bargaining chip . . . I’m hurt, Walrus. It will be difficult for us to form a relationship of good faith anymore. If you had told us before it happened, we could have prevented such a tragedy in the first place. From that angle, is it not your fault that my parents were saddled with such an unfortunate ailment?”

Twisting her words and the situation until it benefits him is child’s play for Jade. No matter how contrived that reasoning may seem, at the end of the day, Walrus is the one who desperately needs resources from the Leech Mafia. As long as he does not forget who has the upper hand, he will certainly get his way.

“Of course,” Jade continues, offering her a way out, “I believe in second chances. If you take responsibility and pitch in to find a way to undo the curse, I will have no qualms in lending you my support in your upcoming coup.”

In the end, Walrus has no choice but to concede. There are other groups she could turn to, but creating good relations with the Leech Mafia can only help her if she wishes to gain influence. A weak, unstable group after an internal struggle is easy prey for older, already established syndicates to absorb. She needs their support to avoid a short-lived victory.

Walrus leaves with a promise of seventy men and enough weapons to supply them. As soon as she’s out the door, your mind drifts to the manuscript again. It briefly mentions that the Leech Mafia’s influence spreads after their parents wake up. Maybe this inner turmoil in the Carpenter Mafia causes that expansion. No details were ever given in the manuscript. When you read it over, you had the impression that the author did not have the slightest inkling towards the politics and inner workings of a mafia.

You find yourself stepping back towards the wall as you think. Your body yearns to curl up in the window seat in the attic. Part of you wants to hide up there right now and digest this information. There is so much to think about now. The division of resources, the men you’re going to lend to Walrus, the compensation for the lack of manpower in some of the Leech territory on land . . . .

A hand rests on your waist and reels you in towards the side of Jade’s chair. The perpetrator gives you an imploring look.

“If you need a space to sit, would my lap suffice?”

A few moments ago, you thought Walrus had audacity. Jade outmatches her.

“No, I’ll go up to the attic instead.”

“May I come with you?”

“Seven, you’re so persistent.” You heave a sigh and motion for him to shift so that you can sit comfortably on his lap. His smile grows unbelievably smug as you take a seat, purposely putting your full weight on him. He doesn’t show the slightest hint of discomfort.

It becomes easier to think when you have something pressed against your back. His arms surround you, providing a small space for you to retreat in your mind without any worries. Sturdy and secure like the face of a cliff or the trunk of a tree, safe despite the threat you know he is capable of being. No matter. You were the one who said you would trust him. And now that you’ve let your guard down, you find that you feel rather cozy.

“You’re being weirdly clingy today.” You notice he still hasn’t let go of your waist. “When Walrus asked for my help, you were so adamant on refusing. I could’ve gone, you know. We would’ve had a reason to lend her less soldiers.”

He huffs. “I have told you before. Have you already forgotten? There is no need for you to dirty your hands with filth.”

It takes you a moment to recall when he last said those words: outside Azul’s home while Floyd beat the living daylights out of Barry Moore. You should never have to lift a finger. Just keep making others do your dirty work.

“What’s your problem with me fighting every so often? I’m not against it.”

Jade rests his head on your shoulder. He’s been getting bolder ever since you promised him your trust.

“If you want to, I would not stop you. But I can tell you prefer to stay holed up somewhere and wrack your brain instead of using your fists. In situations where violence is necessary, you often order someone else to do it unless you are the only one around. Regardless, I would support you to the best of my ability whether you wish to scheme or massacre.” He sighs into your shirt. “I was already quite upset that I did not manage to stop Walrus’s men from ambushing you. It put our negotiations at risk.”

“You were going to refuse her terms just because of that?” It’s not like Jade to make such an illogical decision for something that doesn’t even bring him entertainment. In fact . . . “I would’ve thought that watching me struggle in a fight would be interesting to you.”

“Of course it is.” His chest rumbles against your back. Your eyebrow twitches. Laughter? The nerve! “But I would rather you struggle in a situation that I’ve created, which I can stop whenever I wish.”

“So you only like my suffering when you’re in control of everything about it?”

“Let’s not call it suffering. Challenging obstacles, if you will. But yes.” His eyelashes flutter against your cheek. “If it is ever necessary to truly put your life at risk, it means that I have failed in some capacity.”

You should be grateful to hear those words. But some part of you sours. Why is he so bent on protecting you? You aren’t weak. Your Signature Spell’s primary function is to shield you from physical injuries. Fighting comes naturally to you. In fact, when you met the twins, you were the one who fought for Jade. Sort of. You even extorted him afterwards. And in the Leech Mafia, it is your job to protect him.

“I don’t need to be protected.”

“You are correct.” He nuzzles his face into your neck. “You have survived for this long in the mafia. I don’t try to keep you from harm because you are incompetent—far from it, actually. I do so because you are too competent. You take on more and more difficult work, increasing your chances of getting hurt, but you do not stop and consider how seeing you injured may throw me into disarray—”

He suddenly pauses. You think you get the gist of it. His parents still lie unconscious in hospital beds. Perhaps a small part of him blames himself for not being careful enough. Even you sometimes lie awake wondering if there was anything you could have done to prevent it. If only you took that manuscript seriously sooner. If only you had been more vigilant. If only, if only, if only. Do you dare to assume he’s worried about you as well?

Jade’s fingers tighten on your waist. “I want to make sure you are safe and comfortable. If you will allow me, I will do anything in my power to ensure it happens. Scheme and plot, stew in your thoughts, give orders like a tyrant. I will be your hands and feet so that you never have to endanger yourself. It is only a selfish desire of mine that you will never be harmed.”

“So, if I’m understanding correctly, you’re saying you care about me?”

He chuckles. “Is it something that needs to be said?”

Answering a question with a question. Typical.

“Tell me properly.”

“Relentless as always.” He relaxes his grip. “I care about you. More than you think.”

“You said you wouldn’t lie to me anymore.” There’s enough sincerity in his voice that you don’t have to confirm. A part of you just wants to hear him say it.

“I was not lying, then or now.” Jade’s arms wind around your torso and hold you close. “I have always been truthful on this subject, and this is no lie, either.”

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #jade leech #twst jade #twst fanfic #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #mafia au #multi chap fic #slow burn

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phantom-0-writer · 6 months

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second chances don’t come for free

cw/tw: child death and child abuse and related traumas

7652 words (!?) ao3

Everyone in the family had secrets, and everyone knew that everyone in the family had secrets. It was a promise that came with the crest they all wore on their chest. Some were more open than others, like the way that Richard always avoided tight ropes despite his impeccable balance, and how Father never enters the 4th room on the west wing of the 3rd floor.

Damian had secrets too.

After a relatively calm night by Gotham’s standards they returned to a briefing for their next big mission. Damian was one of the last to return, busy settling a mugging attempt on his return.

“Good, looks like everyone’s here.” Father announced, gathering the attention of the rest of the occupants of the room.

“Looks like a full house.” Richard commented lightly looking around as everyone gathered around the computer. Todd leaned casually on the railway to the changing room away from the crowd but close enough to be included, Drake was clicking away at the keyboard as usual. Brown and Cain stuffing in their last cookie before butting the container away. Thomas stood idly by waiting for Father to explain what their next operation was. Barabra likely was listening from a separate location as usual.

“We’ve received a tip from a trusted source that the League is up to suspicious activity.” Father began, as Drake pulled up a few schematics on the screen.

“When are they not?” Brown scoffed, lightly jabbing Richard in the arm. He chuckled lightly.

“Naturally,” Father continued, “It would be irresponsible for us to all go and leave Gotham unprotected so Spoiler, Orphan, and Signal will stay to cover the city while the rest of us are gone. I’ve informed Batwoman as well, and she’s available to assist you if the situation demands.” Father paused to give the rest an opening to speak, when no one did so, he continued. “We’ve discovered that they’ve found a rare washup of some form of solidified Lazarus Waters. We don’t have much information on the substance itself apart from what's essentially speculation. Regardless if the League found a way to solidify the Waters, there is no telling what they would find themselves in possession of, weapons, tech, humans at a level we’ve never seen.” Damian knew all too well what the League was capable of. After all, he had been the League. Father continued explaining the details of the plan and the positions each of them were meant to play.

It would be the first time Damian returned to a League of Assassins base since he had first left them 7 years ago and he had met his Father at his own doorstep for the very first time at the age of 10. It had only been the lifetime's worth of rigorous training that kept Damian from curling into his gut at the sight of those eyes.

The eyes that haunted Damian the last days he had stayed in the league when Mother had ordered him to pack anything he wished to take with him. The look of terror in the eyes that look just like the one that calls him Champ while he ruffles his hair and tells him to go sleep early since it was a school night.

Damian found himself freshly showered and comfortably under his duvet, then a moment later he was pulling them off to go through the motions of his day. Next thing Damian knew he was in his Robin uniform in a jet that would be taking him to the sight of his biggest mistake.

The League had always kept a close record of Damian’s activities since he had been taken out of his test tube. Every daily schedule, no matter how mundane, every mission report, no matter how simple, was expertly stored in the League’s database.

That was with the exception of the final test. The League had taken extensive measures to scrub away any traces of the final test before Damian had gone to live with Father.

When Father and Drake had meticulously gone through every file about Damian on his arrival to the manor, Damian was told his first kill had been at the age of 4, a politician in his house in the capital city not far from the League’s Nanda Parbat base.

Though Damian had only understood what it meant to kill - to watch death - only 3 days before he had met his father.

“Damian.” Richard called, Damian hadn’t noticed that he had been approached, “Are you sure you're clear for this mission.” He sounded concerned.

“Yes.” Damian responded with a frown. He had his own mission, he could not afford to be benched.

“You seem kind of out of it. I know you don’t have the best memories with the League and none of us are going to force you to go if you're not ready,” Richard was trying to seem approachable and understanding, and perhaps Damian should be more reciprocative of his efforts. But he ‘knew’? What exactly did Richard Grayson ‘know’ about the League? About what happened to Damian in the League?

Damian bit his tongue, there was no point in lashing out before a mission only for it to impede needlessly on their cohesiveness “Would you prefer for me to bounce off the walls in excitement?” Damian allowed the snark to roll off his tongue, and raised a brow at the older boy.

Grayson let himself laugh at that, “No, I suppose not.” And with that Damian was alone again.

When Damian was 3, Mother had taken him to watch the older kids train. Damian had noticed someone else there, another boy around his age. They looked similar even, but not identical. Damian remembered the jealousy he felt when he started noticing the similarities the boy shared with Mother’s features, the audacity that he looked more like Damian’s mother than Damian himself. When he told Mother, she had found it humorous and praised Damian for looking more like his father insead.

While Damian sat on the bench with mother, their escorts behind them, the boy sat alone at a bench further away. “Damian, do you know who that boy is?” Mother had leaned in to ask him.

“No, Mother.” He answered honestly.

“That is Danyal al-Ghul, your twin brother by 76 seconds.”

“What is a brother, Mother?”

“Your opponent in all that you do, Damian, he is your enemy. You must always remember that.” Damian made his best efforts to remember that, because of course Mother was always right.

Damian and Danyal had been assigned rooms across the hall from each other but they never met outside of coincidental encounters. And whenever they had, someone had always been there to remind Damian that Danyal was not to be trusted, that he would get under Damian’s skin, find ways to exploit Damian, a cheat and a smear on the al-Ghul bloodline. One of his teachers at the time had told him Mother would’ve done well to leave that one in the tube he was born from. The people of the League would not dare lie to an heir of the Demon’s Head, so Damian believed them.

One night, after a particularly tiring day of training, Damian found he couldn’t sleep and decided to sneak out onto the roof. Damian had not been expecting anyone to be there but he was surprised to see the boy there. He considered his options, assessing his opponent like he had been taught to do. The enemy, Danyal, seemed to act purposefully unaware of Damian’s presence there. There were no weapons stored on him, and his posture was incredibly lax and he simply stared at the stars in the night sky.

With a sigh, Damian sat silently at his side of the building, and looked into the far expenses of the League's base and the mountains that surrounded it. Though Damian had intended to be alone, he found an unfamiliar sense of comfort from the un-accosting presence of the other, unlike the others of the League who always seemed to need to say something to him. But Damian knew, regardless, the boy was not to be trusted.

The next night Damain found himself climbing out of his window again, and found Danyal already there. For the next three months, every night Damian would sneak out of his window onto the rooftop and find Danyal already there, and the both of them would sit there in a comfortable silence, back turned to the other.

One day Damian had been sent out for a mission, nothing he wasn’t used to. Except the location was quite far so he had to leave early in the morning and would be returning much later in the day. He had managed to complete his mission much earlier than anticipated, and so with this newly earned time, Damian snuck off to explore instead of heading straight to the rendezvous point. Easily pickpocketing a handful of cash unnoticed from a preoccupied group of wealthy looking men, Damian pursued the options.

Perhaps he could buy a toy, a train set the other kids were ogling at. Except that would be much too difficult to hide, and needless to say Mother would not approve of such distractions. Damian overheard some others talking about the deliciousness of the sweets in one store, and he made up his mind. He bought 4 different types, not sure which would be the best, handing over his money to the clerk and heading out of the store.

Damian found himself anticipating the rooftop of his room, and wondering how Danyal would react to Damian’s new found treasure. Slipping the chocolates out of their hiding spot, Damian snuck all 4 bars onto his usual spot on the roof. Letting the wrapper crinkle loudly as he purposely fiddled with it unnecessarily, Damian successfully earned a curious glance from his roofmate. Damian took the first bite of the bar labeled ‘Dark Chocolate’ and let himself enjoy the bitter sweetness of it, as Danyal looked at the candy bars spread haphazardly across the rooftop.

Not liking that he was beginning to lose Danyal’s attention, and not receiving the eager response he was expecting, Damian found himself sticking a piece of chocolate towards the other boy, offering it to him. Danyal hesitantly took it, eyed it cautiously. Some of the chocolate had already melted on Damian’s fingers. “What is this?” Danyal asked him.

“It’s chocolate.” Damian explained to the other six-year old, not that he had really known what chocolate was either.

“Chocolate.” Danyal repeated, before carefully nibbling on the side of it. His eyes went wide in surprise at the sweetness, and he looked up at Damian in disbelief. “Woah.” He breathed, taking a much bigger bite.

Damian, having been the one to discover this, smiled pridefully at the other boy, “There's different ones too.” He proclaimed.

“Really?” Danyal asked wide-eyed crawling closer to Damian who turned around to face him.

At the end of that night, they were short 4 candy bars as they tried to keep their whispers hushed and the melted chocolate on their fingers left stains on the floor of the roof. Damian wondered how Danyal was supposed to be the villainous enemy everyone told him he was, but Damian was not so easy to trust, after all he was an assassin of the League, the heir to the Demon’s Head.

Every night they would meet on the rooftops, exchanging souvenirs, sharing snacks, telling each other stories of the stars and mountain demons. After a while Damian had forgotten what he had been warned of for his whole life, and would look forward to meeting with Danyal every night. Maybe Danyal wasn’t his brother, like Mother had said.

Perhaps Mother was mistaken.

One night, Danyal didn’t show. Damian waited for him for an hour, but the other’s side of the roof remained unattended. Finally, having had enough, Damian skillfully snuck over to the other side of the roof and peeked through his neighbor’s window to see if he had fallen asleep, but there was no sign of Danyal in his room, either.

Feelings Damian didn’t understand swirled in his gut, the ones he got when the mission unexpectedly goes off script, or the sharp end of a weapon comes closer than he would’ve liked. Hurriedly, he slipped down, letting himself stay hidden in the shadows, as he searched for the boy that wasn’t his brother. The kitchen, the hall, the training room, the weapons room, the barracks, the field, the river in the back, Danyal was nowhere.

Tired, and out of breath, Damian tried to formulate a plan. Where could Danyal have gone?

“Young Master Damian.” At the voice Damian instinctively reached for his sword only to find it not there. Had he forgotten to bring it with him? Damian assessed who had caught him, and easily recognized by the uniform that it was one of the servants.

“What are you doing here?” Damian demanded, frustration at his futile efforts at finding his… -at finding Danyal.

“I am cleaning the walkways, as we are to do every 10 days, Young Master. It is more convenient to do it at night, since there are less people around.” The servant explained, bowing his head. They seemed scared of what Damian may do to them. But when Damian did not respond, the servant hesitated before speaking again, “If I may ask, Young Master, what are you doing here at this late hour?”

Damian turned to the servant again, if they had been out cleaning as they said for the previous hours past curfew then perhaps they had seen or heard where Danyal had gone. “Do you know of Danyal al-Ghul?” Damian made sure his tone was void of emotions, it would not do either of them well for it to spread that Damian had found himself fond of Danyal.

The servant’s face paled slightly at the name, there was a small stutter before they finally spoke, “Young Master Danyal should be in his room at this hour.” The servant began fiddling, with the handle of the broomstick.

Why was he lying? “Where is he?” Damian kept his voice even, demanding respect.

“I- I do not know where the Young Master is.” The servant pleaded, but Damian didn’t believe him.

Anger growing at the situation, “Tell me.” He demanded.

“The Demon’s Head, and The Lady Talia were to speak with him.” The servant spluttered out, caving under the pressure.

Why would Mother and Grandfather seek out Danyal at this hour of the night? The feeling from before only strengthened as Damian rushed to find him.

“Damian.” Mother asked surprised, catching him easily at the door, “What are you doing here?” Damain tried to get a look inside the room, but Mother had positioned her body to block his view.

“Mother, shouldn’t you be asleep by now.” Damian asked, trying to find the casualness in his voice despite feeling like every vein in his body was being controlled to squeeze his chest.

Mother looked down at him in amusement, “I should say that to you.” Damian tried to force his way through the door, but he was no match for Mother, “Why are you here Damian?” She repeated.

“I would like to speak with Grandfather.” He tried, lies slipping easily out of his mouth.

“I’m sure it can wait till the morning, your Grandfather is tired from a hard day's work.” When Mother pushed her hair behind her shoulder, Damian wondered why there were splotches of fresh blood on her hand.

Damian stood there in defiance, and Mother seemed to consider him for a while. “Perhaps since you're merely a child you wouldn’t understand.” Mother thought aloud.

“I am seven, Mother, nearly eight. I am hardly a child, and have far surpassed the many of the teachers you’ve assigned me. I can understand.” Damian demanded. He needed to find Danyal.

Mother straightened, and with a nod, moved from the entrance allowing Damian to enter. There on the floor was a trail of blood, that led to one of the darker corners of the room, and Damian couldn’t tell what the heap on the floor was.

“Damian, you should be in your room.” Grandfather chided, sitting in his chair by the fireplace. The darkness of the room finally became accustomed to Damian, as he began making out the details of the room. Grandfather didn’t have his cane, instead it was left closer to the heap in the corner. The heap had its hair cut messily just like Danyal’s always was, and its hands were smaller than an adults, as it tried to bundle itself together. The heap moved slightly, it’s head turning to look at Damian. Damian drew in his breath, at the sight of Danyal’s fluttering consciousness on the floor.

Mother was right, Damian didn’t understand.

Grandfather followed his gaze, and nodded understandingly, placing a lit pipe between his lips. “Danyal is simply being punished.” Grandfather explained. Damian couldn't find the word to ask what for, but Grandfather explained anyway. “He seems to think he is your equal, in the way he speaks and acts. As if he is one of the respectable heirs of the Demon’s Head.” Damian didn’t understand what that meant either. If Danyal was meant to be his brother, would he not have equal claim as heir as Damian did.

“He is my equal. Mother said so herself.” Damian stated, not sure the source of his deep rage at his Grandfather and Mother at that moment.

Grandfather turned a questioning look at Mother. Mother turned to Damian. “What are you talking about, my son?”

“You said that Danyal was my brother.” Damian said, it was true that Mother had said this, regardless of whether Danyal should be considered Damian’s brother, “A brother is an opponent, someone waiting to strike me down at any moment. My enemy in all that I do.” Damian recited Mother’s own words, though he could not put his faith in them. Danyal had always listened to Damian, understood Damian, laughed at his jokes and added with his own, always the first one to comfort Damain. They weren’t brothers. “If he is to be my enemy, should he not be on the same grounds as I, as a true equal in skill?”

Grandfather considered what he said, and shared another look with Mother. “I suppose I see the reason in your words.” Grandfather turned to him again, “Why have you come Damian?”

“I simply was taking a late night walk since I couldn’t sleep, and I thought I would perhaps feel better if I came to visit you. I did not expect to see Mother here.” Damian was surprised how easily it was to lie to the only people he had trusted for the previous year of his life.

Grandfather let his hand rest on Damian’s shoulder “Take him back and dress his wounds.” He ordered Damian, “And do not trust his words, he simply wishes to get under your skin. Manipulate you.” The doors to the room shut behind them as Damian carried the body of his battered enemy back to his room, and patched up his wounds.

Danyal was sitting on Damian’s bed, fluttering on the line of consciousness. “What you said before,” his voice was barely above a whisper and he spoke slowly as his words meshed together. Damian listened raptly, “to Grandfather, do you-” Danyal seemed to be having a hard time forming the question, but Damian understood.

“It was the truth.” Damain said easily, Danyal's face fell at the admission, but Damian was quick to explain, “It was true that Mother told me what ‘brother’ meant, and that was the true meaning of brother. But I do not think of you as my brother.” Danyal examined him for a moment, trying to determine if he was being honest.

“I trust you.” Danyal said with more conviction than Damian thought he could possess in that moment. He trusted Damian’s words and actions when not even Mother or Grandfather did.

Finishing with the last bandaid, Damian looked at Danyal. “I trust you, too.” Trust seemed to light a word for Danyal, but Damian was not sure what word he should have used instead.

That was because Damian did not know what love was, and because Damian al-Ghul loved his brother.

“Mother you called for me?” Damian sat in the chair opposite of Mother’s study.

“Damain, you’re here.” She greeted, not looking up from her screens. Damain waited for her to finish what she was working on, arms crossed impatiently. “You do remember who your father is?” Mother started, turning the screen with two of Father’s well-known persona on display. One of billionaire Bruce Wayne greeting guests at a function, and the other of the Batman perched near the head of a gargoyle.

“Of course, I remember, Mother.” Damian sighed in resignation. “Bruce Wayne and his alter ego, Batman.” He recited.

“Good. You are a decade old now, and there is not much the League has left to teach you. So, in one week's time you will be going to stay with your Father.” Mother said bluntly.

Damian’s brows creased together, “For how long?”

Mother looked at him with authority as the next in line for the Demon’s Head, “For the foreseeable future.”

“What!” Damian stood in indignation, “Mother that's unreasonable, how could you make me-”

“It is an order Damain.” Mother said with finality.

Damian frowned, “And what of Danyal then? He is Father’s child as well, I doubt he would sit by knowing he has another child here.”

“An intelligent conclusion.” Mother praised, “That is why you and Danyal will have a final test, the victor will be the one who is sent to your Father.” Damian’s eyes lit up at the concept, Danyal never talked about how he trained or what skills he best utilized, other than once slipping that he prefers to use katanas too, Damian did not know much of Danyal skills. This was finally Damian’s chance to see how capable of a fighter Danyal is. Despite whoever won, Damian was sure, even without knowing his father yet, that he would come back to retrieve the other.

“When will the spar be a mother?” Damian asked.

“In 4 days, you will be expected in the main courtyard by noon.” Mother said dismissively.

The day came both faster and slower than Damian would’ve liked. Wearing his usual gear, and his swords by his side he headed towards the field mother had instructed him to be at. Damian had waited in anticipation for this day, making sure all his swords were properly cleaned and sharpened. Of course they always were, but he had taken extra care that they would be in their best condition. His attire had been carefully selected by himself, a measure he usually wouldn’t take.

Danyal and Damian stood facing each other, waiting for the signal to begin. Mother and Grandfather watched them closely from their spots in the audience, as the two exchanged blows, swords slidinging across each other, dodges and blocks, evasive flips, feint attacks, Danyal punched him in the gut once when Damian hadn’t been prepared. Damian let the battle engulf his senses, body moving in flow with his weapon, switching seamlessly between offense and defense until Damian found the perfect opening for an attack and he took it, knowing he would be named victorious.

Damian’s katana sunk into Danyal’s chest, a gasp of pain escaping the other boy, as he looked down at the point of impact. Confusion filtered across his face for only a moment, and before Damian could question it, Danyal’s expression slowly morphed into fear as Mother and Grandfather approached them.

“Damian, congratulations are in order.” His Mother praised him, stepping in between him and Danyal. “I knew from the beginning you would come out victorious.”

“Thank you, Mother.” Damian tried to look at Danyal. “What now?”

“We will be taking your brother to the Lazarus Pits, and let Fate decree any value to his life.” Mother explained, turning to Danyal and pulling Damian’s sword out of his chest, Danyal yelped in pain.

Damian wondered if Danyal had been hurt during their fight.

Damian bent down to load Danyal onto his back and carry him to the mystic waters and let him heal so he could join him at Father’s later. Perhaps Father would not be as keen as Mother on fostering their brotherhood, and they could train and fight together like they always talked about.

“Damian.” Danyal croaked out lowly, if his face wasn’t already positioned near Damian’s ear he likely wouldn’t have heard.

“Shh.” Damian chided, “Mother will notice.”

“Damian.” Danyal called again, “Promise, you won’t forget about me.”

Checking to see that Mother was still occupied in a conversation with one of the servants, “Don’t worry, I'm going to take you with me. Or I’ll come back to get you.”

“Promise.” Danyal asked again.

Damian sighed, Danyal could be so stubborn sometimes, even with strange requests “Fine, I promise.” he rolled his eyes. Danyal didn’t say anything after that, instead resting his head on Damian’s shoulder.

“Place him in the waters, Damian.” Mother instructed.

Danyal’s body floated in the waters lifelessly for a bit, and Damian wondered why nothing was happening. And then suddenly, as if it were the mouth of some vicious beast, a gaping vortex circled around Danyal swallowing his body whole. Just as suddenly as it had erupted, the vortex disappeared and the waters returned to a deathly still seconds later. Everyone surrounding the waters watched in anticipation, but when nothing happened and enough time had passed, everyone headed back to their tasks.

Mother stayed for a moment longer, “It seems even Fate, too, was eager to be rid of you.” she muttered, before heading off.

Damian was the only one left there, waiting for Danyal to walk out and tease Damian for getting worried that it was taking so long. But the sun was beginning to set, and the waters had not moved at all, and there was no sign of Danyal.

“Young Master, Lady Talia says that you should return to your chambers.” A servant stood by the gates holding a plate of food for him. Or was it for Danyal? There was only one serving.

Damian turned to the servant, and he asked in a voice shakier than he had been expecting of himself, “Why hasn’t Danyal come out yet?”

The servant seemed taken aback by the question, before their face morphed into something sadder that Damian didn’t understand. “Young Master Danyal will not be returning to us.” They explained softly.

“Why not?” Damian demanded, confused and angry. His eyes were beginning to burn.

The servant hesitated before answering him, “Because Young Master Danyal is dead.”

“What difference should that make, people die all the time?”

“It is as easy for the dead to return as your grandfather may make it seem, Young Master.” The servant spoke again, their voice gentle and tone careful. “Usually when people die they are gone for good, and they don’t get to come back. Not even with the Lazarus Waters. Second chances do not come for free, after all.”

Damian let the words sink in. Danyal- Danyal wasn’t coming back?

It was dark out now, almost the time the two of them usually met on the rooftop. Danyal would be waiting for him there, like he was every night.

“You're lying.” He accused the servant, as he ran to his room, food left forgotten as Damian quickly made his way onto the familiar rooftops.

Damian waited there, the servant’s words echoing in his ears at every second Danyal didn’t show up. An hour passed, and then two. And Damian considered for the first time that the servant had been telling him the truth.

For the first time since he made his first visit to the roof of his room, Damian al-Ghul sat unaccompanied.

After six years of carrying out various missions as an assassin, Damian al-Ghul cried when he learned what death meant.

For the first time in his life, Damian al-Ghul cried when he realized he was alone.

“We’re here.” Red Robin announced, as the plane landed silently about 15 miles away from base like they had planned the night before.

“Oracle, testing comms and visuals,” Nightwing spoke into his earpiece.

“All good on my end.” Her voice echoed in all of their ears.

“Okay, just like we discussed, Robin and Red Hood will head to the surveillance room and get a location for where the experimentation is taking place. Nightwing and I will be on standby until the information is provided, Red Robin collects samples and information in the time that we have.” Father went over the plan again.

Robin stealthy led the two of them through the LoA’s familiar layout, and the mission went smoothly. Within the next two hours they had the location of the experimentation site. It was on base, but a further location, so Nightwing and Batman headed there, ready to collect whatever information they could. Downloading the files for the surveillance and sending the access over to Oracle, their job should be done, and they were set to wait at the rendezvous point until further orders, or back up was requested.

“Where are you going, Brat? We’re supposed to head that way.” Red Hood chastised as Damian took them off course.

“Then go that way, if you wanna be such a goody-goody.” Damian shot back easily. Knowing the route to his destination easily. Damian kept to the least used route.

“What’s with you, today? Pissy about not getting to see your Mommy?” Red Hood snarked, still following behind him.

Damian wasn’t going to justify that with a response. The green of the Lazarus Waters came into view. A shiver went up his spine but he ignored it.

“Robin. What the hell are we doing here?” Red Hood demanded, eyeing the familiar green with contempt. Damian bent down to pick a handful of stay dandelions from the corner of the unused ally, and easily jumped over the gates surrounding the water. “Damian.” Jason hissed, “What are you doing?”

“Relax.” Damian sighed, bending down near the waters, “I just came to give my greetings to… someone.” To his brother. Danyal was is his brother. Despite the mask hiding his face, Damian could see Jason’s posture soften.

“Make it quick.” Jason huffed, letting Damian have some pseudo-privacy by turning his back to him. Damian set the flowers he had picked near the edge of the water, only noticing that the temperature had dropped when the wind blew a slight chill at the exposed skin of his face. It wasn’t temperatures Damian couldn’t handle, Gotham was often dreary and chilly even in her summers. But they weren’t in Gotham. They were in the Middle East, where they would consider themselves unlucky when the winters got this cold.

“Hood, do you-” Damian was cut off by the loud acidic bubbling of the previously calm green waters.

“What the-” Red Hood balked, turning around alarmed.

Damian backed away in alarm, the edge of the waters expanding to swallowing the flowers he had laid down. The two brothers could do nothing but watch in suspense as the waters started swirling into a vortex garnering attention they had been trying to avoid. Just as suddenly as it had started the waters returned to their previously calm state, only for the surface to be broken by what looked like a young child, trying desperately to keep himself afloat and get to land.

Damian and Red Hood were too busy holding off the assault from the small force the assassins had managed to form together to help the child. The second either of them turned their back to the assaulters, the assassins would take the opening to finish them. By the time they had dealt with their attackers the boy had already brought himself to shore, hacking up water.

Familiar choppy black hair, and blue eyes Damian could never forget. “Danyal.” Damian found himself gasping, body frozen not from the cold.

“Don’t mean to ruin your meet cute, but look like they brought their friends.” Red Hood warned as more assassins surrounded them.

“We need to leave. Now.” Damian told him decisively.

“Wow I never would’ve guessed.” Red Hood snarked back.

“Call for an extraction.” Damian huffed annoyed, blocking an attack from the left. There weren’t many well trained members currently aware of them, but they knew better than to wait for backup to show up.

“Red Robin, what’s your eta to the jet? Team 1 needs an emergency extraction.” Oracle spoke through the main line of comms.

“I can be there in 10 minutes.” Red Robin responded easily, “What’s the situation?”

“We’ve been made.” Red Hood reported back disarming his attacker and knocking them out.

“Will likely need medical attention.” Damian added, looking back at Danyal, who only now seemed to be registering his surroundings.

“What happened?” Nightwing asked, concerned at Damian’s statement.

“Not for us, for our new little stowaway.” Red Hood explained finishing off the last of the assassin, before turning around to face Danyal.

“Explain.” Batman demanded

“Perhaps now is not the best time or place for that, Father.” Damian snapped back.

Danyal stood scarily still from the bay of the Lazarus Waters, wet and dripping, and despite the chilly temperature and his wet clothes he didn’t seem cold. If Jason had not tried to approach Danyal as well, Damian would’ve thought he was simply a figment of his imagination.

“Hey, kid.” Red Hood put his arms out to show he meant no threat. “Do you know how you got here?” He tried to make his voice soft and approachable but the voice modulator of his helmet was not doing him any favors.

Danyal didn’t respond, eyeing the both of them carefully. They let him, not making any movements that may scare him. The world seems to go still around Damian. Go colder.

“I’m in the jet, heading your way.” Red Robin reported over the comms.

“We’re coming to find you too.” Nightwing added, Father presumably with him.

Neither Jason or Damian made any moves.

“Team 1, do you copy?” Oracle asked when neither of them sent a signal for receiving the message.

Damian wondered what he should do? How was he supposed to approach Danyal, and begin to explain what was happening? Damian wasn’t even sure what was happening.

“Team 1?” Father repeated.

Do something, Damian.

“Copy.” Red Hood clicked into the comms and everything rushed into motion.

At Red Hood’s response and the rapid movements of the wind at the approaching jet approaching overhead, Danyal dashed away alarmed.

“Wait-” Damian called, running after him. But Danyal only seemed more distressed at being chased. He ran through small crevices Damian was too large to fit through, trying to deter him. But Damian followed regardless. Finally catching up to him where he knew that alleyway to come to an end, Damian caught sight of him, reaching out to grab his arm. Only for it to fall through as if nothing was there.

As if Danyal wasn’t really there.

After the failed attempt at contact from Damian, Danyal was only able to get so far before he seemed to trip, his foot catching on something that Damian couldn’t see.

Why had Damian’s hand just gone through him like that?

Damian began to question whether Danyal truly was in front of him or if it was just some sort of illusion. Damian was quickly reassured of the validity of his vision when a sharp rock Danyal launched let blood drip on his skin. The hiss of pain was real. And so was Danyal.

Damian didn’t stop his domino from falling off his face, from the rock’s impact. Danyal stared at him. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize me?” Damian tried to laugh, but it sounded pathetic.

Danyal analyzed Damian’s features, confusion washing over him. It made sense, the Damian Danyal had known was a 10 years old assassin, not a 17 year old Robin. Danyal was smart, smarter than Damian had been. Damian waited for him to figure it out.

But the world did not wait. Red Hood, Nightwing, and Batman dropped in from various rooftops, as the jet hovered loudly above them. Spooked by the sudden appearances, Danyal quickly started backing away.

“Excretion ready. Preparing Medbay.” Red Robin reported.

“I was wondering when the news would reach you, Beloved.” Another familiar voice grabbed their attention. Damian looked to the sound to see Mother with at least 10 of her personal guards staring them down. Although Damian couldn’t see the others, he knew they had been surrounded.

“Talia.” Father hissed, a cold anger in his voice.

Damian's eyes shot back to Danyal who looked like he was trying to find a way to make an escape, exhaustion seeping through him. Deciding to take his chance, Damian approached him while Mother was occupied with Father.

“Who are you?” Danyal asked him, hesitantly, trying to keep the distance between him and Damian.

“I promised I would come back for you, didn’t I?” Damian said in lieu of an answer.

Danyal’s eyes widened in recognition but before he had the chance to respond, an arrow was launched landing between them. Looking at the source, it was Mother. At the signal attack, all the other guards swarmed in from their positions and started attacking. Damian, blocking a sword, aimed to slash his side, before another sword came for his shoulder.

Occupied with his two attackers, Damian didn’t notice Danyal trying to escape by climbing the side of the brick building. Fortunately, Mother still hadn’t noticed him yet thanks to their surroundings, and Danyal’s insistence to stay in the shadows. Danyal’s progression was decelerating, the weight of his still wet clothes and exhaustion slowing him down.

Damian tried to keep an eye on him so he could follow after, once he dealt with his attackers. Disarming both of them and knocking them unconscious, Damian was able to turn around just in time to notice Danyal on the brink of unconsciousness, and losing his grip on the stones he was using to climb. Damian moved quickly, just in time to catch Danyal as he fell and his eyes rolled back. With Danyal in his arms, Damian only registered the on coming projectile without enough time to dodge or block. Damian braced himself for the hit, using his body to shield Danyal as much as he could.

Only for a familiar black cape to flutter in front of him, blocking the attack before it hit either of them. “Go,” Father ordered, tipping his head towards the jet, “We’ll follow.”

“So basically, correct me if I’m wrong,” Steph started incredulously, “Damian had a twin brother that died, they dunked him in the pit waters but then he didn’t come back. So, they were like ‘welp, lets tell no one about this, ever’. Except the water ends up literally throwing him out when Damian goes back and does this huge water show grand entrance thing. And now we have another 10 year old Wayne child.” Steph summarized arms moving wildly. If there wasn’t a kid that looked a lot like Damian lying unconscious in the bed two feet away from her, and the body cam footage from both Damian and Jason, Steph would’ve thought they were pranking her. Though, she hadn’t entrily ruled that out yet either.

Tim nodded in conformation, leaning back causally on his chair.

“You were gone for 36 hours.” Cass added exasperatedly.

Damian still hadn’t said anything other than explain who exactly Danyal was. They were twins, apparently, and they had been forced into a battle to the death a few days before Damian had been brought to the manor. He hadn’t told them why, but Steph suspected it was for some stupid successor business. Some of the other’s had tried to get more information out of Damian, demanding answers for why he never said anything before, never told any of them, why there weren’t any files of Danyal in the League’s databases. But Damian hadn’t answered any of them, so they had been forced to give it a rest- for now. Looking back, Steph could see the signs that Damian was dealing with grief when he had first come to the manor, but no one had been looking for that, and it had gotten swept under ‘weird assassin cult child’ behavior.

It had been about an hour and a half since the jet had landed in the cave, and Steph, as a certified medical practitioner, had been called in for an emergency. She had thought it was strange that Oracle hadn’t specified who, and now Steph understood why.

Danyal didn’t seem injured, other than a lower than average body temperature and a slightly slower heart rate, which was likely due to the body temperature, he seemed in relatively normal health. That was if he hadn’t been a 10 year old who had been marinating in Lazarus Water for seven years. Most of the bats had experience with Lazarus Water, and it had never been pleasant. But they hadn’t been in the prime years of their physical and mental development, and at most had been in the pits for an hour.

Steph, Cass, Tim and Damian were in the medical room with Danyal. Jason had gone to his apartment, and said he would be back later, and to let him know if anything happened. Bruce had changed and gone straight up stairs, not taking the news of having a second kid who Talia had hidden from him and a second kid who had died very well. Dick had stayed for a while but he had an emergency work call and had to leave. Duke was still patrolling, since it was earlier in the day, but was being kept up to date on all news thanks to Oracle.

Danyal was due to wake up any moment, and none of them knew how to feel about it. Not liking the morbid atmosphere of the whole manor, Steph decided to change topics. “Did Cassie tell you about what Conner and Bart did last week?”

Tim turned to face her happy for the distraction, Cass humored her with an intrigued look. “What?”

“Okay so basically- it was so cringe-” Steph let herself laugh “They were at the mall right. The one near Mount Justice, y’know-”

“-yeah it’s the same one they go to all the time.” Tim interjected, rolling his eyes.

“Right, so-” The door opened, as Alfred walked in, cutting off her story but not unwelcome.

“You’ve all been in here for quite some time, so I brought you some snacks. Sandwiches, fresh cookies, and water, juice and milk to drink. All your favorites, do indulge.” The old butler explained, rolling the cart through the door.

“Thanks, Alfie.” Tim went to grab a glass of water, and a sandwich.

“And anything for our newest addition?” Alfred questioned.

“He’s not awake yet.” Damian said quietly, sipping at a glass of warm milk. Like a weirdo.

“Is that so?” Alfred said with a thoughtful drawl to his voice, as he walked closer to the kid. “Hm…” He stroked his chin animatedly, slowly bringing himself closer to examine the boy’s face, but still keeping a comfortable distance. Steph was about to question what he was doing, only to see the boy’s eyes shoot open, and stare back at Alfred like a deer caught in headlights. Alfred straightened, as Danyal seemed to realize that he had been discovered.

“What? How long was he faking being asleep?” Tim asked, baffled.

“56 minutes.” Cass answered, easily.

“Wait- you knew this whole time?” Steph asked betrayed, only for Cass to smile back cheekily.

Damian didn’t say anything as Danyal sat up in his bed slowly, examining every one in the room. Steph tried to make herself seem non threatening but stayed ready in case the kid lashed out, not knowing how he would react. If it was anything like how Damian had been during his early days, it would pay to be ready.

After a long moment of no one saying anything, Tim decided to prompt, “So, how’re you feeling, kid?”

Danyal didn’t respond right away, instead watching Tim, Steph and Cass from his spot on the bed. Steph was beginning to wonder if this was another case, like Cass, where the kid had never been taught how to speak. Danyal opened his mouth hesitantly, looking over at Steph hesitantly, then Damian before answering.

“Cringe.” There was a flat blunt honestness to his tone that added to the sudden comedy of the situation. Damian choked on his milk, and the room burst into laughter at the unexpected response. Danyal looked a little embarrassed at the reaction, but there was still a small smile on his face.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad afterall.

“Do you want some?” Damian asked, breaking a cookie in half and offering Danyal a piece.

The younger boy took it, curiously, “What is it?”

Damian took a bite, chewing it before responding, “A cookie.”

“Cookie.” Danyal repeated thoughtfully, before taking a little nibble of it. His eyes widened at the taste, “Woah.”

“There’s plenty more of those, Young Master Danyal, I’m glad to see you enjoy them.” Alfred smiled happily at the reaction.

“Really?” He asked hopefully. Steph tried to remember if Damian had been this cute when he had first come to the Manor. “Who are you?” Danyal asked again after a moment.

“I’m Alfred Pennyworth, you can call me Alfred. I'm the butler at Wayne Manor, your father’s home where we currently are.” Alfred took a pause before speaking again, “Now, I hope you all will excuse me as I go fetch Master Bruce, he’s been quite excited to meet you, Young Master Danyal.”

-------

guys this was just suppose to be an itty bitty little thing. WHY DID IT TAKE ME 3 WHOLE DAYS??? im sensing a pattern and i'm not liking it.

I was suppose to be studying for physics :/

#danny and damian #character death but its danny #please someone help these poor traumatized kids #the mother gothel references go hard #danny is going thru it #first he gets stabbed/killed by the one person who's ever cared about him #gets dunked in a bunch of nasty green water #wakes up to find people in weird costumes chasing him #tries to get away from them when his powers start kicking in and tripping him and not helping at all #and then his mom find him and hes kinda scared out of his mind #and then more weird costume furries are chasing after him #but apparently its aged up damian and his father???#he deserved that cookie #yes that was totally parallelism from when damian first offered him chocolate and they started becoming friends #ngl idrk how i feel abt the end #damian ate the cookie first to prove it wasnt posion also y he ate the chocolate first #but also he was eavesdropping on them for almost an hr so he kid a had a vibe check on them #his ghost powers let him pick up on languages faster which is why he said cringe lol #he was trying to assimilate and get them to like him so they wouldn't get mad at him #also kinda explains y damian was so aginst having brothers #becasue he had a rly twisted understanding of what that is #damian the one (1) time he tries to socialize: yah i had a twin once #rando: oh wow thats so cool what r they doing now #damian casually: oh he's dead #rando: oh- oh wow im so sorry #damian: yah anyways have i told u abt my brother damian #also damian: idk y pple think im wierd #i actually want danny to be the older twin #just for the unhindged conversation of a 10 yr old turning to a 17 yr old and being like im older than u #and dami responding completely seriously yah but i lived longer than u

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vladajwrites · 1 year

Text

Razor’s Edge

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four

Summary; Reader moves to Woodsboro for her senior year of high school. This story take place in the setting of the Scream 4 movie. This story is dedicated to all of the girls living through the current Rory Culkin revival. I love and see you. <3

Also available to be read on AO3 here

It's imperative for me to mention MAJOR trigger warnings for this story; blood, violence, sexual content, alcohol usage, and mentions of abusive situations and suicide. I will add and edit tw's as needed.

WC; 5,043

Notes;

Part 3 should be available soon. Thank you for any and all support! It truly means the world to me. Check post comments after reading chapter for additional statements.

As you had anticipated, Irina was truly overjoyed to learn how your first day of school had gone. She asked so many questions; the conversation went well into the night after she had returned home from work.

“Could you see yourself becoming friends with any of the other students?” Irina asked from the kitchen table as you cleared remnants of dinner from the counter.

You set a plate down in the sink and contemplated her question. Thinking back on the people you met over the course of the day, a few names came to mind. Kirby seemed kind. You had exchanged numbers after film club had ended. Her other friend, Jill, seemed a fine enough person as well, though a bit more reserved.

You thought back to any of the other conversations you had throughout the day. Robbie’s awkward invitation played over, albeit a brave gesture, it didn’t seem like likely grounds for a friendship. Your thoughts then shifted to Robbie’s counterpart.

Charlie seemed to keep much more to himself. It felt special to have someone, practically a stranger, come to your defense in any sort of situation. Charlie could be a friend, possibly. A half smile slipped up your lips. What did you know, though? Maybe it wasn’t really a possibility at all.

“I don’t know, maybe. I think it’s too soon to tell.” You spoke over your shoulder, holding your hand under the kitchen faucet, waiting for the water to warm.

“Hmm,” Irina began, you peered over at her. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth, concealing a knowing smile. “Well, I have hope for you. Don’t count anybody out just yet.”

You nodded, loading glasses and silverware into the dishwasher.

If it were meant to happen, you figured it would. The only real matter of importance to you at the moment was pushing through your classes, giving yourself an opportunity to move you forward in life. It wouldn’t be long until college applications and standardized testing would be consume most of your free time and thoughts.

The next few weeks passed by as most did when beginning a new school year. The teachers, thankfully, kept most assignments and quizzes simple to build back the tolerance towards regular class work that had been lost over the summer break.

As you had also expected, the introductions and sudden interest other students had towards you started to fizzle out as they fell back into their usual routines. Although Kirby had become a welcomed energy in your space. She went out of her way to speak to you in classes you shared. She had even recently began to invite you to join her and her small circle to leave campus during your lunch period. It felt nice to be included, even if you had yet to be around them outside of school hours.

Charlie had continued to walk with you to film club most days. The two of you shared very little actual conversations. Most moments were filled with a comfortable silence.

You really began to pick up on things in the club. You’d write yourself small lists of the movies mentioned during that hour and return home to watch as many as possible while you worked on your homework. It was nice to have things to fill your time, distractions to push any memories away from before your return to Woodsboro.

The air had started to chill and change as September crept its way to the present day. It was a cloudy Friday, nearly two full weeks had passed since that first day of school. You were walking your usual route towards room 120A, Charlie in step beside you. Just before you were able to make it through the classroom doors, you heard your name called from the opposite end of the hallway.

You looked up to find Scotty Anderson gawking his way towards you. ‘Shit,’ you rolled your eyes. You had done a pretty good job of avoiding him and his group since the sports equipment bag debacle. You glanced over at Charlie. His frame was unusually rigid, no discernable emotion in his expression.

You sucked in your cheeks, debating on just turning into the classroom. It was better to just get this over with than put it off; you decided.

You took a few steps forwards, meeting Scotty in the middle of the hallway. You held both hands in front of you, tapping your foot as you thought of what he could have to say to you.

“Hey, I know we haven’t had the opportunity to speak.” Scotty began, moving the same bag of equipment up onto his shoulder. “I just wanted to apologize for running into you the other day. Definitely not cool.” It was clear in his tone he didn’t actually mean a word of what he had just said.

You nodded, biting the tip of your tongue. You never expected an apology, and after as much time had passed, you really didn’t care to have one. You were more confused about why he had apologized now, after days had passed.

“It’s fine man, don’t worry about it.” You replied, turning on your heel to head back towards the classroom. Scotty’s hand gripped its way around your upper arm, spinning you back towards him. You were visibly taken aback by the sudden motion and intrusion into your personal space.

“Look, let me make it up to you. Give me your number, I’ll take you out sometime, show you around Woodsboro.” He practically demanded, a sly cocky grin plastered across his face. He was just plainly handsome, the athletic and popular type you imagined some girls would go for. You might’ve given him a chance too, if things hadn’t started out the way they had. He was still somehow able to make his chances even worse though as he continued to talk. You weren’t the least bit interested.

You glanced over your shoulder. Charlie was still standing in the doorway, his eyes flashed quickly between you and Scotty. A disgusted frown clung to his lips as he watched the situation unfolding before him.

You looked back up at Scotty, shaking your arm out of his grasp. “No thank you,” you replied, barely above a whisper.

His eyes widened in disbelief, as if he’d never heard those words before. “What?” His mouth hung agape.

“I said no. I’m just not interested.” You replied, this time more sternly.

Scotty scoffed, surely attempting to conceal his bruised ego. He stomped his way down the hallway like a toddler. “Ugly bitch.” You could hear him mutter as he grew further away.

You slapped a hand over your mouth, trying to conceal your shocked laughter. You turned back around. Charlie was gone from his spot. A stupid smile plastered on your face as you entered film club. If Anderson truly felt that way, he would’ve never made an attempt to come onto you in the first place. You found your seat next to Kirby and looked up at Charlie, believing he’d be laughing with you too over the situation, only he didn’t seem amused at all. He wouldn’t even look up to meet your eyes.

His cold shouldered treatment continued into the next week as well. You figured things would just be as they were before as the last bell rang that following Monday. Before you had the chance to grab your things, Charlie had brushed past you, disappearing into the crowd of students in the hall.

You weren’t sure why it hurt your feelings so much. He didn’t owe you anything. You were perfectly capable of making it to the club without him. But still, you couldn’t help but feel anxious as the next few days unfolded in the same way. He’d barely look at you, let alone speak to you. You were trying to wrap your head around why he was acting this way. You had done anything wrong to your knowledge, but then again, maybe you had. You couldn’t bring yourself to push the matter, though. You had no idea what to say to him.

That following Friday, during your second to last period, your biology teacher announced the outline for the first heavily graded project of the semester. It was a group project. He’d assign the groups and specific topics each trio would be required to present. The classroom mumbled and huffed at the announcement.

You listened carefully as the teacher made his way down the list of students he held in his hands. You glanced around the room as the group of prospective partners grew smaller. You hoped you would be paired with people you at least vaguely knew.

The teacher then called your name. Your head snapped to meet his finger dragging across the list he held in his right hand. You waited intently for the next names to be called.

“You’ll be in a group with Mercer and Walker. Your topic is genetic pedigree.” You sunk down in your seat. Eyes flashing towards Robbie, who gave you a smile and thumbs up. You couldn’t bring yourself to look towards Charlie, who sat beside him.

You dropped your head into your hands, letting your hair cover your face. You knew you’d have to muster the courage to say something to Charlie. The project was important, and you didn’t want any made-up qualms to affect the way you all worked together.

As class concluded, Robbie stopped you in the Hallway. You watched Charlie walk past without looking behind him or waiting for his friend. You followed his frame carefully until losing him as he turned down the hall.

“Hey, if it’s alright, could I grab your number?” Robbie asked. You’d nearly forgotten he was standing there. “For the project, of course. We’ll have to work on it outside of school, and just if you- or I, have any questions..” You watched as his cheeks turned a soft shade of red.

You tried your best to give him a reassuring smile and nodded. “Of course Robbie, yeah, that makes sense.”

“Awesome!” He sighed in relief, handing you his cellphone to type in your contact information. “See you in film club?”

You nodded again, watching Robbie turn on his heels and vanish into the crowd of students headed towards their next class.

Your last class of the day felt like torment, the minutes passed by so incredibly slowly. It seemed as though the second hand on the clock was frozen in place as you waited and listened for each tick it made.

You could feel eyes stuck to you as you sat, unfurling the hem of your sweater. You glanced behind you. Charlie met your eyes, he was mimicking your own movements, heel tapping on the floor below him.

He looked absolutely miserable, pained even. He looked down at the ground as your eyes lingered for just a moment longer. You suddenly felt incredibly guilty. Maybe there was something going on with him completely outside of school, outside of you, and you had been so entirely selfish to believe his change in demeanor was a direct result of anything you had done.

You sat at your desk now braiding, unbraiding, and rebraiding the same three strands of hair near the front of your face. How could you have not attempted to reach out to him sooner? You felt like an absolutely sorry excuse for an acquaintance, let alone a friend.

You had your belongings packed and together before the final bell rang, you’d make sure to catch him this time. As soon as the clock rang to dismiss the class, you were up from your seat, headed to the doorway to catch him in the hall.

He was quick to step past you, head fixated on the crowd in front of him. You worked faster, grabbing the strap of his backpack and pulling him through the doorway of an empty adjoining classroom.

He looked shocked as he spun to face you, his mouth held agape, before snapping his lips into a tight line.

“What is wrong with you?” You asked, surprised even by your own hasty actions. As soon as the words left your lips, you regretted them. What’s wrong with you? Really? There wasn’t a better way for you to ask what was going on? You silently scolded yourself.

“What?” He asked, taking an immediately defensive tone, understandably so.

“I mean, what is going on with you? Is everything okay? You’ve gone through quite the effort to act like I don’t exist this past week.” You replied, amending your original question.

He looked you over, scoffing. You brought your hands up over your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious.

“Look, if it’s attention you’re looking to get from somebody, don’t bother me about it.” He spoke just above a whisper, as if he could barely get his own words out.

His words made your eyes prick up. You felt your body heat flush as your jaw grew increasingly tense. What was wrong with him? His glare faltered for a moment, his hands dropping to his sides.

“I just mean…” He paused before continuing, “you’ve got Anderson. I don’t understand why you’d want me around.”

Your eyes widened in shock, realizing he hadn’t stuck around till the end of the conversation you had with Scotty the week prior. This was really the reason he had become so cold towards you? It was ridiculous. He was so-

You couldn’t hold back the astonished laughter, the absolute nerve. Charlie’s expression morphed into confusion. He seemed almost hurt to have you laughing in his face. Good.

“You really thought I wanted anything to do with that asshole? I didn’t even give him my number.” You exclaimed, throwing your hands back towards your thighs.

Charlie’s face bore the full front of sudden guilt. Your hurt turned to anger. He could’ve asked, but he just assumed. Even then, what issue could he possibly take with you speaking to or seeing another man?

You took a step forward, closing the distance between the two of you. Charlie took a deep breath, eyes glancing between you and the pointer finger you now dug into his chest.

“I thought you were a friend, you fucking prick.” You whispered just beside his ear. You could feel his heartbeat wildly pound against your finger, could nearly hear it from the proximity you shared. Or maybe that was your own heart you were hearing. You couldn’t have been sure.

Before giving him a chance to respond, you stormed your way out of the room. Making a beeline to your car.

Fuck. Fuck that stupid fucking film club. And fuck Charlie Walker.

You sped home, slamming the front door behind you. You rushed up the stairs, hearing your aunt call your name from the living room. You stopped in your tracks, shouting down to her, “I’m fine, I promise. Just need a moment alone.”

You waited for a second to hear her response. You were surprised she was home from work so early. After a few moments, Irina responded, “Okay.” She didn’t sound entirely convinced, but knew better than to pry.

You shut your bedroom door, falling flat onto your bed. It didn’t matter, none of it mattered. You didn’t need him around.

An hour passed by, and then another before you heard your phone ringer buzz twice.

You scrambled for your phone, which was still in your bag on the ground beside your bed where you had thrown it earlier.

Two text messages from an unknown number flashed on the screen.

“Hey, didn’t see you in film club. Everything good?” Your heart skipped in your chest. Could it be-? Your question was answered by the second message. “Robbie btw.”

You sighed, rolling onto your back, holding the phone above your face. You thought for a moment before responding. “Wasn’t feeling well, all good, though.” You added Robbie’s name to his contact info before setting the phone down beside you.

Another minute passed before your phone buzzed again. “Cool. Would you be down to meet up later to start on our project?” Robbie’s message read.

You thought about it for a moment. The idea didn’t seem particularly great, but it would be nice to just get it all over with. You responded with a simple, “Sure.”

Almost instantly, a new message was sent. You opened it to find another phone number beside Robbies. In a new group chat Robbie asked, “Where and what time do you guys wanna meet up?” The other number had to be Charlies. You rolled your eyes, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Your fingers hovered above the keyboard as you thought up a response. You knew Irina would be more than happy to host, and it’d save you a trip from going elsewhere in town.

“My place, 7pm?” You replied.

“We’ll be there.” Robbie responded.

You sent your address to the pair and locked your phone, shoving it in your back pocket.

You figured it was time to face your aunt, let her know people would be coming by the house later. You called out to her, hearing her reply from her bedroom. You stopped in her doorway, watching her pack clothing into a small black suitcase.

“Where are you going?” You asked, walking up beside her.

She looked up from her work. “I have a few meetings in Sacramento this weekend. I fly out tomorrow morning. I should be back by Monday though.” You nodded your head in response. She was always so busy, always had places to be.

“I’m sorry for slamming the door earlier.” You said quietly, picking up a t-shirt on the bed and folding it over for her.

Your aunt looked over at you, waiting to see if you’d continue.

“I’m okay. I just-” You paused, trying to find the right words. The entire thing wasn’t really worth getting into or being upset about, as you thought about it.

Irina’s eyebrow raised. “Boy troubles?” She said half-jokingly.

You smiled then, handing her the folded shirt. Yes, to put it plainly, just boy troubles.

“You know what I think about men,” Irina began.

“Better off without them.” You answered in unison, laughing with one another.

You stopped in the doorway, hand wrapped around the frame as you left Irina’s bedroom. “Oh, by the way, I’m having a few people over in a couple of hours to work on a project for school. If that’s okay, of course.”

Irina peered over her shoulder, a wide grin on her face. “Of course. Let me know if you kids need anything.”

It was hard to keep your nerves in check as the next few hours passed by. It would be fine, you reminded yourself over and over again. It wasn’t going to just be you and Charlie. Robbie would serve as a much needed buffer.

You heard your phone buzz on your nightstand; you picked it up quickly, reading the message aloud. “Pulling up now.” You quickly made your way down the stairs, kicking a pair of your shoes further down the entryway.

You swung the front door open without recalling whether you had heard a knock yet. You were met by Robbie and Charlie on the front porch. Charlie’s head was towards the ground, his hands in his pocket. Robbie looked around himself, mouth agape.

“You were totally right dude,” Robbie said, elbowing his friend in the side. “This was her house.”

“What?” You asked from the doorway, not sure you had heard him right. Robbie looked flustered, as if he were surprised to see you standing there.

“Oh. I meant Charlie recognized you on the first day.” Robbie tried to clear the confusion by simply adding to it. You looked between the pair. Robbie immediately cowered in response to Charlie’s shocked glare.

You waited for Robbie to continue. You couldn’t possibly understand what he meant by that. To your knowledge, you had never met either of them before that first day of school.

“Charlie’d make me ride circles down your street for hours. He said you had to be the same girl we saw when we were kids. We totally thought you just died one day after you stopped appearing in the window every summer.” Robbie said laughing, pointing at the sun bay window.

You were frozen in place; the air seemed to be sucked out around you as you thought hard back on those memories. Certain things suddenly started to click and piece themselves together in your mind. You glanced over at Charlie. He was looking at you almost pathetically, knowing there was nothing he could have done to stop Robbie from spilling any of that information.

Robbie began a string of ‘I’s and Um’s’ as he noticed your expression. You willed yourself to pull it together for a moment; lesson the deafening, horrible ringing in your ears.

“Oh, I think I remember you two, actually.” You stated. You had always had a distinct memory that fell in line with Robbie’s sentiment. You weren’t sure you’d have ever been able to place them both in that memory without Robbie’s over-share. You’d let yourself process this information at a later time. You watched as both boys relaxed a bit more into themselves, awkward glances still passed between the three of you.

“Would you guys like to come in?” You stepped aside, motioning towards the entryway.

“Please.” Robbie replied and stepped past you.

Charlie nodded, following behind him. You caught and held his gaze for a moment as he slipped in so close beside you.

“We can just hang out in the living room, if that’s cool.” You said, motioning towards the living room couch. The two men followed suit. You took a seat on the sofa, Robbie sat on the opposite end, while Charlie took a seat on the floor by the coffee table in front of you.

It was quiet for a moment as everyone pulled out their laptops, notebooks, and pens. You weren’t sure who would be the first one to break the silence. To be completely honest, you didn’t mind it. You were terrified that Robbie would somehow dig himself another hole, and you had absolutely nothing to say to Charlie. You hoped you’d be able to just get the majority of the project finished tonight so that the remaining meetings would be minimal.

Just then, you heard your aunt’s light footsteps coming from down the stairs. You sighed a heavy sigh of relief as she entered the living room. She wore a bright smile on her face as the boys rose to their feet to greet her.

“Robbie Mercer.” He held out a hand to her. “Good to meet you, Robbie.” She replied in her usual sing-song voice.

Her smile faltered for a moment as she turned to shake Charlie’s hand as well. “Charlie Walker, thanks for allowing us over.” Charlie said, giving her a courteous smile.

You looked between your aunt and Charlie, watching the corner of her lips twitch into a small frown before she replied. She looked almost off kilter. You took careful notice of your aunt’s unusual etiquette. “Anytime, Charlie.” She replied, placing her left hand over their conjoined right hands.

The gesture didn’t seem to phase Charlie much.

“If there’s anything I can get for you all, please don’t be afraid to ask.” Irina spoke before heading back up the stairs. The three of you responded in a short chorus of ‘thank you’s.’

The next few hours went by as well as you could have hoped for them to go. Once you were all busy at work, the awkwardness slowly dispelled itself. It was nearly midnight, and you were all beginning to experience the early stages of screen fatigue from your work. You all mutually decided to try to wrap everything up tomorrow.

As you led the two out, Robbie spoke over his shoulder. “I honestly think it’ll only take another day to finish this. Maybe one more after that for revision.” You and Charlie both nodded. “But, honestly, if I have looked at another fucking punnet square after this project, I think I’ll kill myself.”

You laughed as you turned the door handle.

The boys filed onto the porch. Robbie was quick to make his way towards his car that was parked halfway in the driveway and halfway onto the street. He stopped after realizing Charlie was still standing on the porch. You glanced between the pair.

“You coming man?” Robbie asked, fishing for his keys in his back pocket.

You watched Charlie, waiting for his response.

“Nah, I feel like walking.” He responded.

Robbie cocked an eyebrow, looking at his friend. He seemed slightly surprised, but didn’t bother trying to convince him to come along.

“Alright, I’ll see you two tomorrow.” Robbie said, as he opened his driver’s side door. You watched him pull all the way down the street before turning around to face the closed front door. Your hand had just started turning the handle when you heard Charlie speak up.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” You turned your face, dropping the handle.

You really had almost no interest in anything he had to say at all, at this point.

“Make it quick.” You replied, stepping in front of him. Your words clearly hurt him, and he did little to hide his grimace.

“Look, I’m sorry.” He started softly, eyes flickering between your own. You sucked in your bottom lip, leaning on your hip as you crossed your arms in front of you. You scanned his face in search of sincerity.

“It’s fine, Charlie. It’s done with.” You replied.

He took a step closer to you. You fought the urge to take another back, to keep just a bit more distance from him. You held your ground.

“No, I’m being serious. It was horrible for me to just assume…” his voice trailed off for a moment. He glanced behind you at the window bay to your left. He met your eyes again. “And the whole attention thing. I never really felt that way. Regretted it as soon as I said it.” His hand flexed at his side as he shook his head.

“Okay.” You replied breathlessly. It was all you wanted him to say. You both stood there for a moment. The sound of crickets filled the air. There always seemed to be something filling in the lapse of conversation you had with Charlie, in a way you had never noticed with anyone else before.

You were the one to speak up. “I can give you a ride home if you’d like.”

A small smile crept up his lips as he followed your gesture towards your car parked in the driveway.

“It’s alright. Thank you for the offer. I just live on the next street over.” He motioned towards the road.

“It’s really not any trouble…” you began. You weren’t sure why you felt such a need to insist.

He reached up then. His thumb ran across the small braid in your hair that had been forgotten about and left to slowly unravel since last period. You left out a breath of surprise at the sudden contact. He was so incredibly close. That pounding in your heart returned rapidly as your hands dropped to your side.

Your eyes darted wildly across the features of his face. His eyes were stuck on those strands of hair between his fingers.

There were no more crickets, no rushing blood, just silence.

He had pulled away before you could process the proximity. He was headed down the front porch steps in a matter of seconds. “Goodnight, I’ll see you here tomorrow.” He called, turning over his shoulder to say goodbye.

You refused to let yourself watch him make his way down the street. Your feet carried you mindlessly up the stairs until collapsing you onto your bed. You stared up at the ceiling, reaching for the disheveled braid. Your fingers traced themselves along the same spot he had. You had just about pulled the braid apart when your aunt called your name from the doorway.

You shot up in bed to face her, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Didn’t mean to surprise you,” Irina began. Her face was splotchy and red in ways that it never was. “I just wanted to tell you goodbye, in case I didn’t get the chance to before I left in the morning.”

You nodded in response. You rose onto your feet, walking over to give her a hug. You pulled away as she began to speak up again. “He looks so much like him.” Irina seemed to say more to herself than you.

“Hmm?” You urged her to explain what she meant.

“The Walker boy. He looks so much like his father had at that age.” She began trailing off, looking at the wall behind you before meeting your eyes again.

“You knew his father?” You asked. This shouldn’t have been surprising information to you, Irina seemed to know everybody who had spent any amount of considerable time in Woodsboro.

Irina nodded.

“Just be kind to him, if you can be.” She said so softly, you barely caught her last words. This took you aback. You were sure your confusion was apparent on your face. “It’s only been a few years since he passed. I’m sure it’s been difficult for Charlie.”

Her amending statement made your heart sink low into your chest. A resounding buzz quickly filled the space between your ears.

“I am.” You replied. You thought you were, at least.

Irina nodded, seemingly satisfied with your response. She turned to make her way to her own bedroom at the end of the hall. Just before she disappeared through the door, you called out to her.

“How? How did he die?” You asked. You immediately felt bad for even asking. It wasn’t necessarily anything you needed to know.

You could tell, even from where you stood, that your aunt’s eyes began to well with tears. “Suicide,” she whispered without looking back at you. It only took a single moment before Irina stepped into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

You weren’t sure how long you stood stuck in the hallway. It was a horribly long night.

#fanfiction #fanfic #charlie walker #charlie walker fanfic #charlie walker fanfiction #charlie walker x reader #charlie walker x y/n #scream 4 fanfic #charlie walker smut #rory culkin fanfic #rory culkin fanfiction

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eldritch-spouse · 18 days

Note

Hi👉🏼👈🏼I love the beefy mushroom man more than words permit me to express and I had a question! You said that skin and bones humans aren’t a good catch and I was wondering I his prized piggy happened to be underweight whether because of an eating disorder or just accidental symptoms of neglecting their own health would he see it as a “romantic” sort of situation to fatten her up? not in a feederism way necessarily, even just in a “look how good I take care of my favorite little pork chop” kind of way.

Also related but also unrelated, it’s shown how certain foods can affect a persons body such as garlic breaking down into their bloodstream or people who eat/drink pineapple to make their sexy fluids taste better, Would Morell utilize this feature in humans when preparing them for eating?

I love all of your OC’s so much and appreciate you sharing your world with us!!

TW: Feederism.

To be frank, Morell has an odd perception of weight as a whole. He does equate it directly to how healthy or not you are, and to him, a happy and healthy human is a bigger, well-fed one.

Because shrooms already kind of have a tendency to be big, and why wouldn't they want to be? It keeps nefarious monsters away.

A slim or thin human already causes a displeased reaction from him, someone who is underweight looks to be on the brink of death to him. It's heartbreaking that this is the condition he finds you in. And Morell wants to fix it immediately.

Unfortunately for you, getting you to a size he deems healthy isn't just romantic in Morell's eyes. Sure, he sees himself as a kind of savior that's healing your body from its miserable state and providing you with the best food you'll ever eat in your life- But it'll always be inevitably sexual for him. Morell loves feeding you, he loves it when you rely on his cooking, when you stop throwing tantrums and he can finally wedge spoonfuls between your lips. He loves hearing you swallow, loves it when you clean plates, when you sigh because you've been properly stuffed.

It gets him incredibly hard in very little time.

The best part is seeing you finally get some meat on those bones. The way you transform into an even more gorgeous version of yourself, it makes him swoon and sweat in arousal.

Generally speaking, when humans are ordered, they're relatively quick orders that don't require that much preparation of the "pigs" themselves beforehand.

But there'll always be that client that "wants a blond one with green eyes" or wants them to taste a very specific way that requires giving that human a very strict diet. While Morell won't do all that extra work on a standard dish, he has to if it's requested by a client. Sometimes it's a headache.

When it comes to you, he may test the effects of some foods. Namely, he'll listen to what people deem aphrodisiac dishes for humans, or dishes that supposedly improve moods or fertility. He's unsure how effective those are, and so you'll be a bit of a guinea pig for that.

#Morell oc

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cranberryjuice-posts · 2 months

Text

- New York romantic -

Pairings - College! Gwen Stacy x Fem! Reader

Synopsis - secrete relationship with the one and only Spiderwoman

TW! - honestly probably OCC gwen

An - this is based more on her comic book age (I wanna preface this by saying I’ve only read one ghost spider comic and I’ve watched the ITSV and ATSV movies plus the other Spiderman movies multiple times) // (Gwen is like 19-20 in this)

— also yes this is kinda based off the Eros and Psyche myth

You looked down at the busy streets bellow you. Letting out a deep breath the smoke from your lungs left your body.

“You know That’s bad for you right?” A sweet voice spoke behind you. Turning your head to the side you playfully rolled your eyes at seeing Spider-woman.

“Aren’t you supposed to be looking over the city for a crime?” You tested the waters while taking another drag from the cigarette.

The stronger woman walked over to you taking the cig from your hand. “Dropping your cigarette ash counts as littering and hate to break it to ya but that’s a crime”

“Shut up” You laughed lifting up her mask slightly, placing a kiss on her Rosy lips. She wrapped her arms around your waist helping to deepen the kiss.

Pulling back you traced her chapped lips with your finger. “Your blushing”

“No I’m not”

“Your nose does that scrunching thing when you are”

Her sigh of defeat only made your pride grow. You’ve been secretly dating New Yorks one and only Spiderwoman for the past nine months. One thing that plagued your mind however was how secret she was being about her identity.

Whenever she would stay the night you could never face her when cuddling. Dates were rare, only happening at midnight and a picnic at the top of some building. Whenever you both were spending time together She would keep her mask on. Did you like the secretiveness of it all, no not really.

Making your way down the fire escape and entering through your window you helped your lover in. She immediately stripped out of her hero suit and into her standard sports bra and sweats. “So much better” she complained while flopping down onto your bed.

You chuckled softly walking over to her. Sitting down beside the masked woman you started to draw circles on her back. “Everything ok spider bite?”

“Peachy” she grumbled.

“My poor baby” bending down you kissed her cheek, the only part of her face you ever got to saw was bellow the nose and even then it was only for a kiss. “I’ll go make you some tea—“

As you tried to get up she grabbed you by the hips forcing you to lay down beside her. “Don’t.. it’s late can we just rest” her tone practically begging.

You gave her a soft smile, it’d be cruel to not agree. You turned off the lamp beside your bed enveloping the entire room in darkness. With your phone on your vanity face down, the only sound was The heroine taking her mask off.

Letting out a tired sigh she kissed your lips. “Night babe”

“Night” You mumbled. She quickly cuddled up to you, falling asleep almost instantly.

———

You felt like you were choking. Waking up from a nightmare you sat up gasping trying to regain your breath. Once you calmed down your eyes drifted over to the sleeping form of your lover. Reaching out you gently pushed her hair to the side.

Guilt took over your body. You wanted no needed to see what she looked like. Nobody could understand what it was like, being the woman you love but not allowed to see her face. All you wanted was to love her for all her beauty not just her body and personality.

Debating for a while you sucked it up, grabbing your phone you opened the screen, using the dim light to aluminate her face.

You almost dropped your phone. What you saw was Gwen—- Gwen fucking Stacy. The Chemistry major at your college as well as a local Legenden for being in the MaryJanes. The sweet confident yet shy woman, the same woman who you hung out with on a daily basis. Every time you invited Gwen over for a hangout you had been in reality inviting your girlfriend over.

The phone finally slipped from your grasp. Before you could grab it it slammed into Gwen’s face. She sat up annoyed rubbing her cheek. Spewing out an apology you turned on the lamp without realizing trying to make sure she was ok. You touched her face hoping a bruise wouldn’t form.

The gig was up. You knew Gwen knew you had secretly looked at her face. You expected to Gwen have a look of anger instead you faced a look of disappointment. She didn’t say anything only quickly getting out of the bed and putting her long discarded suit back on.

“Gwen pl—“

“Don’t” she turned around. Standing close she held a finger out. “How many times did you go behind my back and look at me.”

“Only this once you have to believe me” with a tone of desperation you grabbed her hand.

Gwen just pulled her hand from you, continuing to dress herself.

“Well what was I supposed to do” you asked. “Do you understand how painful it is to not ever see the face of the woman I love?! I’ve seen every inch of your goddamn body but your face! I love you Gwen it broke me knowing I would never know what you looked like”

She still didn’t respond, her silence was supposed to punish you. “We’re done, and if you know better you’ll keep your mouth shut about who I am”

Before you could argue Back she lept out of the window, swinging off to god knows where.

Of all the stupid decisions you made this took the list. Practically running to your bed you grabbed your phone calling Gwen.

Voicemail

For fucks sake. Calling her repeatedly each time going to voicemail after the first ring. Laying back down on the now empty and cold bed you felt yourself starting to cry, the hot tears staining your face and pillow.

———

The following week was like torture. Gwen avoided you at every turn and the classes you shared she skipped.

Once you went to the MaryJanes practice and Gwen forced MJ to kick you out. She could try to avoid you all she wanted but you knew deep down she still loved you. The same heroine you fell fore still wanted to be with you.

You left the corner store with a bag of Gwen’s favorite snacks. The only place that had her favorite candy was in the crime district. Over looking them you mentally thought out a plan for an apology basket to take to her tonight. If you hadn’t fucked up it would of been your ten month anniversary..

Being distracted wasn’t something you wanted in downtown New York Especially not at night. Before you realized it you were harshly grabbed and thrown into an alleyway.

You fell to the dirty ground, rolling over some you winced in pain at your bruising arm. You turned your head quickly to face your attacker who wore a cheesy Super hero plastic mask and hoodie.

He reached out pinning grabbing and pinning you against the wall. “Your Spiderwomans Lil bitch huh?! Yeah Ive Seen You Both” He sadistically laughed with a knife pressed to your throat.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about I’m sor—“

“Bullshit!” He pressed the knife deeper to your neck. “Now your gonna be a good girl and tell me her fuckin identity ok, my boss would really appreciate it” You felt your body start to go frozen you couldn’t speak let alone move— the only thing in your mind was getting free, and Gwen. The world paused. The only was to describe it was your life flashed before your eyes.

Coming back to reality you realized nothing happened. The man who tried to assault you was laying on the ground bloodied with an angry looking woman standing over him. Yelling curses at him as he crawled away.

Facing you Spiderwoman or as you knew now Gwen dropped down beside you pulling you into a hug. “Are You ok?! What did he do” she urgently asked while holding your face

In that moment very moment everything snapped. You broke down in your Ex’s arms, pulling her close into you. She didn’t saw anything only tightening the hug so you wouldn’t feel alone.

Gwen brought you back to your apartment. Going in through the usual window, like the thousands of times before. She sat you down onto your bed still searching your face and body for physical wounds.

Making the decision that the only injury was the stress to your throat she grabbed a first aid kit and began to wrap you up.

As she placed the bandaid on your neck you slowly reached out cupping her face. Both of you stopped, just looking at each other. You slid off her mask tossing it aside, you could tell by her puffy eyes and reddened cheeks she had been crying to.

“I’m.. so so sorry please I need you to understand that I love you Gwen, all of you. I just couldn’t stand being in the dark anymore though” you felt your eyes starting to tear up.

Gwen just placed her hands on your thighs comfortingly rubbing them. She took a moment of silence before leaning up and kissing your cheek. “I know” was all she mumbled.

You pushed back a strand of her blonde hair wanting to see her face even if it was for the last time. “This is my fault” Gwen started, her voice cracking. “I wasn’t careful enough, I didn’t take into consideration people would see me come into your window, I didn’t think someone would stalk and attack you.”

“And You don’t have to” You dropped her before she could continue. “Nobody knows anything about us, people who ask I tell them their seeing shit” “Gwen I want to be with you no matter what happens, i want to be allowed to love you like this than when your masked up” the entire time you spoke not once did you break eye contact.

She nodded looking down for a moment. Pulling you to the edge of the bed she kissed you gently, letting the kiss repeat a few times before breaking it. There was a sense of hesitation in the air.

Your eyes traced over each others features only for a moment before you started to kiss her once again. Both your heads tilted to give one another an easier way to kiss. Pulling back for some air Gwen stood up, changing out of her suit and into a pair of pajamas she had at your place.

She crawled into bed and brought you close to her. Both just looking in one another’s eyes. “I love you”

“I love you too”

#lesbian #wlw #gwen stacy #spider gwen #spider gwen x reader #gwen stacy x reader #spider woman #gwen stacy x you #spiderman #across the spiderverse

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olivyh · 2 years

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hello :) may i request scenarios of a reader who is the prefect of ramshackle, so from another world, who immediately starts excelling in their classes-

catch is, they seem to never be studying and they’re very laid back, but they still get top grades (higher or even as high as riddle/azul)

with riddle, azul, deuce and whoever else seems very,,, academically competitive

i’m such a sucker for the academic rivals trope, especially when one of them is trying so hard while the other seems to not try at all

thank you :) i love your works <33

AHH ACADEMIC RIVALS!! YES!

Writing these reminds me of all the studies I can do on these characters,, maybe when I have some time I'll sit down and write out fully fledged one shots about them,,,,,

and TYSM!!! Thank you for reading!!! :)))) <<3333

Slight TW: Hints of abuse and bullying (not fully described, but hinted at)

Riddle:

-I don't think he would mind too much

-You're oddly smart for being from another world, and you don't need to spend time studying? Goof for you

-That means he doesn't have to spend countless hours tutoring ADeuce, right?

-He's actually quite thankful that you're around to keep those in his dorm up to the standards he holds

-He is a little jealous that you don't have to spend hours hunched over a desk studying, but he tries to brush it off to the best of his ability

-That is, until you surpass him in exams

-He's not so low as to try to sabotage you, but he cant deny the envy that runs through his veins

-How? You were from another world. If anything, you should have the disadvantage. He goes back to his dorm, vanishing into his room to study more to make sure that he gets above you next time

-He finds himself making excuses as to why you were so smart. Perhaps your world was similar? Maybe you were getting extra notes or amended lessons due to your circumstances? Perhaps you had some sort of magic or trick that allowed you to see the answers for the tests?!

-He can't get you out of his head

-Eventually he tries to bring it up casually, the bite in his tone enough of an indication what was happening. Of course, you tease him and explain that you never needed to study

-As someone who spent most of his life studying, he's baffled. He was intelligent, sure, but he was trained to be and you... weren't

-Eventually he can't stop thinking about you and your words. At some point or another, he finds himself looking forward to seeing your name so high up, the jealousy slowly dissipating. When they switch places, his name on top, yours on top the next, his, yours, his, yours.

-He found himself staring at the two names, accidentally reading off your first name paired with his

-(Name) Rosehearts

-His face flushes and he scurries away from the board, away from Trey calling out for him, confused as to why his Dorm Leader had run off despite getting the highest score.

-He was inexperienced, but he was not naïve. He knew what feelings he had developed for you.

-And he was sweating, losing his mind. This was not supposed to happen at all.

The redheaded boy practically collapses next to you on the couch in Heartslabyul's common room, despite trying to make it appear dignified. You chuckle, putting your phone down as he sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

"Tough day?" You question him, sitting back as he unclips the crown from his hair and holds it in his lap, running his gloved thumbs over the sleek surface.

"Absolutely. Can you control those two for once?" Laughing, you go to fix the piece of hair that had been displaced from the crown, making Riddle stiffen. You notice and pull your hands back, as if burned.

"I-I'm sorry," You mumble. "Touching, right...Right."

Riddle frowns, swallowing the embarrassed lump that formed in his throat. He longed to feel your warmth, to feel your soft touches holding his face in both your hands, wiping his stressed tears away with your thumbs after a long day. To curl into your chest, arms wrapped around your waist and hold you close late at night rather than sleeping alone in his cold bed. To kiss you when you two part for classes, to hold your hand at each and every Unbirthday party, to hug you close, bury his face in the crook of your neck and to never, ever let go.

You gave him a hug once.

He'd recoiled and snapped, being unused to the affection. It was stifling to him, a realization that made him cry softly into his pillow that night. You promised to not touch him again, well aware of what he'd been through.

"You can..." He mumbles, shaky hand reaching for your own, the butterflies now creeping through his entire system, making his stomach turn as if he was sick and his head all fuzzy. His face was a bright red as he inched his shaking, gloved hand forward. You nod, resting your hand on top of his own.

"Is this good?"

He nodded, despite feeling that familiar, claustrophobic feeling rise in his chest.

"We can stop," You went to take your hand away from his and he shakes his head.

"Keep it," He says much too quickly, stumbling over his words. "Please."

You nod, and Riddle knows that this little bit of overwhelming warmth is not nearly enough for now. He still longs to hold you, to have you hold him.

But for now, your hand over his was enough.

Deuce Spade:

-He was so thankful to have you as a friend.

-He didn't think he was too jealous until he saw that you just... never had to study

-He was a little upset, honestly.

-I mean, spending hours upon hours trying to understand a single concept that most people learned in middle school? Countless days hunched over a desk and staring at a problem until frustrated tears spill from his eyes?

-And you can just... do it. No effort involved. No struggling at all and you're practically outranking his own Dorm Head....

-He tries not to hold it against you, but he can't fight the feeling of resentment seeing your perfect test scores, and then watching you do practically nothing before the day of the test

-Unlike the other three, I think he would actually have a talk with you about it.

-You're one of his closest friends, and he hates the feeling of annoyance that grows in his heart whenever test season rolls around

-He asks for your help, or at least for tricks to pick up the information better

-He's so earnest that you can't find it in you to tease him

-So you study. And you study for hours, at every opportunity. You want him to succeed, especially after seeing his excited reaction when he got a 90 on a potions exam

-Flash cards, listening exercises...

-Deuce felt overwhelmed by the amount of effort you put into helping him, how you would often turn down plans with other friends to help him, the amount of money you would spend on materials to help him keep up, how you wouldn't give up on him, even when he snapped a few times in frustration (and then proceeded to apologize profusely)

-Ace pointed it out. Deuce had crushes before, but none of them were so... intense. He had thought you were attractive at first, and then as you two grew closer those feelings grew as well. Seeing how far you were willing to go for him was what made him decide that he had to do something

"Prefect!" He practically shouts, running and pushing past the other students in the hallway. "I did it!"

"You did?!" You shout excitedly. He nods, a grin on is face. He holds up a slightly crinkled paper, reading '100' at the top.

He had struggled the most with history, you both knew that. He never got anything above a 70 on one of Trein's tests. You smile and laugh, pulling him in for a hug, bouncing up and down and making the boy jump too, albeit a little embarrassed to be doing so in the middle of a crowded hallway.

He can't help but wrap his arms around your shoulders, holding you close for a few moments, feeling your warmth through both of your uniforms. A warmth he'd felt many times before, and a warmth he will never get enough of. You would bump against his leg during sleepovers, play fight with him, play with his hair and style it in ways that you thought were hilarious.

He loved every second of it.

"Deuce?" He didn't realize you had stopped jumping and that he had been holding you for a moment, quickly backing away with a flushed face.

"Sorry! I got a little excited," He chuckles nervously, meeting your eyes and grinning.

"I'm so proud of you!" There it was. His face went alight as he looked away, stammering muffled 'thank you's and 'it's because you helped's. "Come on, let's celebrate! Floyd gave Ace a bunch of vouchers for Mostro because he kicked his ass at practice!"

Deuce smiles and links his arm in yours, looking down at you as you tell some story about your friend and the eel, unconsciously squeezing your arm a little tighter.

"Thank you, (Name)."

Azul:

-I think he would be the most bothered by it

-He spent most of his life being told that he was dumb, and now he finally had physical proof that he was among the smartest in his school. He could wave those ranking paper in the air, pin them to his wall, do anything to them but at least they were there. At least he could see that he was not dumb

-And then you came along. And he was no longer at the top of the class.

-He was now second best in the class

-While he had no problem being second best, as least, not as much of a problem as many in the school would have, it still hurt

-Especially knowing that you did practically nothing to get where you were

-He worked his (metaphorical) mer-ass off, days of perfecting his magic and his craft, of finding any way to get ahold of the best notes to get the best scores

-And then this magicless student strolls along and gets to be in the top of the class

-He tries to find out your tricks, sending the twins after you. They come back and report that you literally do... nothing. You go to class, listen to the lectures, then go home and do something else. No notes, no reviewing, nothing.

-He was already peeved, brainstorming ways to distract you enough to bomb at least one exam

-Nothing ever worked.

-When you outsmarted him during his overblot? His self-esteem plummeted

-You felt bad and so, you offered to help him repair the dorm

-He vehemently denied, not wanting to feel as if he was your own little charity. The more you two talked, the more you helped him find out new promotions and deals for the lounge, he'd decided that you were simply kind

-He fell for you instantly

You two sit on the couch in the lounge, with Azul leaning against the side, paperwork balanced on a clipboard resting on the arm of the couch. He taps his pen to his lips a few times, eyebrows furrowed on his forehead as his lips rest against the end. He shed his coat and tie, trying to find a smidge of comfort despite not being in his pyjamas like he'd liked. The clock read 11:46 pm, and the poor boy still had a pile of paperwork to go through.

"Need help?"

"No thanks..." He sighs, pushing his glasses up to his forehead and pinching the bridge of his nose, sighing. He reaches for his glasses and curses to himself. You look over, noticing the intense smudges on the lenses, likely from his ungloved hands. You watch as he fumbles to untuck the end of his dress shirt to wipe them off and you slowly take them, wiping them down with one of the actual lens cloths you'd learned to carry around upon seeing how often he smudged them- proof of his inexperience with things on his face all the time.

You wipe them down, holding them up to the light every once in a while as Azul continues to scribble away, reaching out and sliding the paper on the desk before moving on to the next. You mumble his name, breaking the silence as he turns to you. You push his tousled hair out of his eyes, making him gulp as heat rises to his face at the tenderness and affection held in the action.

You slowly slip the glasses onto his face and the mer allowed his eyes to close for a moment as to not see how close your faces had gotten. He didn't need to see you to feel your warm breath fan across his cheeks. Your hands rest on the sides of his face for a moment and he can't find it in him to open his eyes, despite how his mind is screaming at him to just do it. That this is what he was waiting for this entire time.

You were so, so heartbreakingly gentle with him. So gentle that it made him want to melt into your arms and never leave. It was a kindness he had only received from his mother and grandmother, nobody else had ever dared to get go close to him in such a way, only pulling at his limbs despite his panicked pleas.

He opened his eyes once you pulled away, looking back down at his paperwork. You lay back on the couch, your legs over his lap as he watches you mumble what he assumes to be a 'goodnight' and closing your eyes, drifting off to sleep due to the late hour.

He smiles, resting his hand on your knee as his other continues to write, listening to your even breaths as he takes his glasses off, lightly tossing his things to the desk and leaning his head back, following you into a deep, well-needed sleep.

Jamil:

-He was resentful of you at first

-That could be him at the top if he didn't have to constantly limit himself. He worked hard, he studied harder, he was supposed to be the one at the top of the leaderboard

-Instead he always had to keep his test scores a little below Kalim's which put him in the lower half of the grade despite how bright he was

-That was a fact he could accept

-But learning that you were a magicless student from another world and still at the top of the class

-He was intrigued, and incredibly jealous that you were able to flaunt your abilities

-He ignored you, knowing that he shouldn't bother, that he couldn't be at the top no matter how hard he tried.

-That is, until after winter break

-He began to show how much he could do, quickly rising to the top alongside you. He was at the top for a moment, going head to head with you and your near perfect test scores. Despite everything he had done, he believed that that he could beat you once and for all

-He blamed it on not having enough time to study. You were busy with Crowley, sure, but did you have to arrange parties every other night? Did you have to cook for said parties? Clean up the entire dorm afterwards? He didn't think so

-You were still kind to him despite his visible irritation with you. You would offer to help him clean up

-He would tell you that he was capable of doing it himself, but you insisted every single time. What did you have to gain? Were you trying to find more dirt to dig up on him? Were you working with Azul? He didn't trust you one bit

-You got closer during the VDC, and he found himself able to relax around you more ,to freely laugh at your jokes

-He knew he was falling for you, but was unable to admit it, fighting back these feelings

-He didn't want to drag you into a life of servitude, a life forced to be less than what you are solely because of who you serve

-You pushed, and he backed up. You pushed. He backed up more.

-It got to the point where you could no longer push, and he was against a wall

"It's not too bad this time," You say offhandedly, scrubbing away at a particular stain on one of the dishes that won't leave. Jamil hums monotonously, drying off the dishes and whisking them away to their proper places in the kitchen. It was the night after one of Scarabia's infamous parties. Most of the students were either back in their rooms or asleep in the common room, and both of you knew that you would have to go around and wake them up, sending them to their proper places so you could clean up for the next day.

The night air in the dorm was chilly. Of course, there was a spell that regulated the dorm's temperature, but it seemed as if most of the residents were okay with the extreme heat in the day being balanced with the extreme cold. You shiver, pushing your arms further into the warm water that spilled from the faucet.

You hear a snicker from beside you and you turn to pout at the boy, who shrugs.

"How does it feel to be the cold one for once?"

"Not funny," You deadpan.

"Serves you right for making fun of me in the snow."

"It was one time," You argue, handing him another cleaned plate. He smirks and pauses, dropping the plate and pulling his sweatshirt over his head, revealing his worn t-shirt underneath. You scrunch your nose and he frowns.

"What?"

"You wear something under your hoodie?" He flushes and shoves the fabric into your arms.

"You don't?!"

"No?"

"That's dumb," He puts away the plate, holding out his hand for the next dish and sighing when you're still in the same spot that you were, staring at him blankly.

"It's a normal shirt?"

"What if you get too hot?" He retorts, rolling his eyes.

"Then you roll up the sleeves!" You laugh and put on the sweatshirt, feeling the lingering warm cover your entire torso. "This is nice."

He stays silent, busying himself with the rest of the dishes. He hoped that you wouldn't notice the slight quiver of his hands or how he fought the urge to glance back at you, biting the inside of his cheeks as he put the rest of them away.

He was stronger than this. He had to hide his emotions from the very start, put on a nonchalant mask. How dare you break it so easily? He huffs, lost in his own thoughts. You smile.

"You can have it back, you know?"

"No," He says quickly, smirking and walking towards you slowly, pulling the hoodie up and over your head, trailing his warm, calloused fingers down your cheeks, you gasp as you feel him trace his hands along your jawline.

Truthfully, he was trying to hide his own expression. His determination to mess with you outweighed the butterflies in his stomach. He licked his lips, leaning in further as his hands rested on the sweatshirt, knuckles brushing the nape of your neck. You sighed and he chuckled, leaning in until your noses were nearly touching.

And he grabbed the strings.

And yanked as hard as he could, tying them together deftly and laughing as you yelped and scrambled to untie yourself.

"Damn you, Viper!"

He laughs loudly, turning on his heel to leave the room and waving (not that you could see it).

"You can figure that out," He walks out the doorway. "I still have cleaning to do."

He was going to tell you someday, yes. But he was going to make sure that he could control his heart around you first. He'll settle with playing for you for now.

#twst #twst fanfic #twisted wonderland fanfic #twisted wonderland fanfiction #twst fanfiction #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #deuce spade x reader #jamil viper x reader #riddle rosehearts #azul ashengrotto #deuce spade #jamil viper #twst headcannons #twisted wonderland headcannons

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