#wakes up to find people in weird costumes chasing him

[phantom-0-writer]

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

[pumpk1n-writes]

Tell Me All About The Dark Places You Hide ~ Part Nine

➥ in which the reader figures out that their best friends are the infamous Woodsboro Killers and decides to help them rather than turn them in. {ft. Drugs and alcohol, murder, short chapter, fake knives, real knives, Billy and Stu being soft for each other}

Part Eight | Part Ten || Word Count ~ 830 Words

Taglist ~ @wasawattpadkid @katie-tibo @laurajmcmanus @sparklyphantom @minkyungseokie @misscaller06 @juda-the-simp @severuslovebot @asdorlia @billysbae @lilac-fangirl @bloody-delusion-expert @rubyroscoe1 @honeynicoole @ok-boke @thatonetallweirdo @ren-ni @fictionalcharacterslut @ennycutie @moneyoverl0v3 @lexasaurs634

Your heart was racing as you ran, laughing, around Stu’s kitchen and living room as he chased you with a soup ladle. Billy watched from the couch, a smile gracing his usually serious face. It was a picture taken from people who deserved to be happy and in love, not a merry group of murderers.

All too soon, it was over, and the three of you were back to planning. You checked the food and made sure the blood capsules and fake knives were safely hidden in the pantry, along with the second Ghostface costume, and the door was locked. You turned around to one of the most surprising images you’d ever seen. Billy had both of Stu’s hands in his and was giving him a pep talk of some sort. He finished and patted Stu’s cheek, and nobody made any sort of weird joke.

You smiled to yourself and shepherded Billy out of the house, tossing his own Ghostface costume towards him for the first part of the plan. You found most of the anxiety of what you were going to do leave your body as the first few party guests arrived.

Around an hour passed and you were well on your way to giving up and murdering Sidney in her own house and completing the job right then before you heard Tatum’s voice and Stu’s greeting. They were finally here. Rolling your eyes in resignation, you took a final swig from your beer and slammed it on the table, turning around and plastering a fake smile onto your face.

You stumbled over to them, watered down beer sloshing in your solo cup. You purposefully slurred your words in your best attempt at a drunken stupor. Leaning heavily on Stu, you pretended to think really hard about what you were about to say. “How…” a pause while you furrowed your eyebrows, ignoring Stu’s hand snaking down your back. “Are you?” You beamed happily at them and the two girls laughed.

“Having fun already, are we?”

You nodded, waiting until they were out of sight before dropping the act and groaning to Stu. “That was perhaps the stupidest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

Stu laughed at you, patting your shoulder. “It was your idea. You have to be passed out on the couch in order for Act 3 to happen.”

You groaned again rubbing your face with your hands. “Yeah, yeah. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

The next part of the plan was quickly approaching, and you watched Stu send Tatum out for more beer and then lock the door. You quickly put on the act again, pouring half a beer into your cup and stumbling out to the living room to listen to Randy’s rant about horror movie rules.

The phone call came in and you watched happily as everyone left. You giggled to yourself, laying down on the couch against Randy’s shoulder and closing your eyes.

*DiViDeR*

You woke up to find Randy gone and Sidney frantically shaking your shoulder. “Valerie! Valerie please wake up, please.” You pretended to sit up groggily, looking at her with an unspoken question. “It’s Billy, it’s always been Billy.”

You sat up straight, standing up and facing Sidney. “What? No, I don’t believe it. He was perfect, he wouldn’t hurt a fly.” You internally vomited at the words coming out of your mouth. There was blood everywhere, and if you peeked through the hallway, you could the see the open door revealing the bodies of Dewey and Gale Weathers. When had she gotten here?

Billy stalked through the hallway, seeing you with your back to him, talking to Sidney. He switched the knife in his hand for the fake one and came up behind you, tapping your shoulder. You screamed and turned around, rolling your eyes as soon Sidney couldn’t see.

He stabbed, puncturing the blood packet, then stabbed again and again. You fell into Sidney, pleading with her to run. She did. Straight into Stu.

She was cornered in the kitchen, Billy behind her and Stu in front. She seemed pretty preoccupied to pay attention to you, so you silently stood up and moved, limping pathetically to sell the act. toward the kitchen.

“Oh my God. Valerie, you’re alive. Please, please. The gun is on the table. Please.” Her pleads we’re pathetic. You wanted to shoot her perfect little face.

You whimpered to make the “wounds” believable, limping over to the table. Stu shot forward to “stop” you, except you decided to change a few things about the plan.

You grabbed the gun from the table, pointing it at Sidney’s stomach and firing two shots in quick succession.

“What the fuck?” Billy yelled, anger filling his eyes. “That wasn’t part of the plan!”

“Not your plan, no. But mine?” You pointed the barrel towards Billy’s forehead. Something told him you knew your way around a gun and wouldn’t miss. “It’s all part of mine.”

#scream 1996 #billy loomis scream #scream #billy loomis #stu macher my beloved #stu matcher x reader #stu macher #Stu macher x Billy loomis x reader

[alornights]

hello! if your requests are open i’d like to req mysterion x fem!villain!reader (aka shes on Prof. Chaos’ side :D) and she’s always dressing up as mysterion just to fuck around and do weird shit pretending to be him for shits n gigs!! ^^

headcanons r great if you wanna do that but if you wanna do a fic u can! (if you wanna make this nsfw age him up pleas 🙏😨)

⟢ just like you.

➜ in which ! you dress as mysterion for shits and giggles.

💌 ﹫mysterion aka, kenny mccormick.

✩ 🎸 warnings﹗bit of violent descriptions.

🍓 ⟡ notes — we love a good villain!! i dont do nsfw lmao so no worries on that part, but i do hope you enjoy this lil headcanon/fic thing <3

it actually wasn't your idea to dress up as mysterion rather it was butters who overheard the guys talking while he was in the jail cell on how if you wore a mysterion costume, he'd flip out.

oh how fun it was to dress up as him.

barely anyone could tell it wasn't him unless they got a close-up of you. so obviously, as a villain, you do some rather, reckless things. like robbery. and arson. and a tad bit of demon summoning.

so when the mysterious man wakes up and checks the news to see all the allegations about him and sees you instead.

he goes nuts.

"What the FUCK, is wrong with you?!" He sneered, kicking you to a wall, letting your body sag as you coughed a bit. "Do you know how much shit I've had to deal with because of you?"

Despite the pain you may be in, you smile back. "Aw shucks, did little ole me get you into that much trouble?"

He stares at you in disbelief before dropping down to where you sat. "You summoned a bunch of demons. What do you think?"

"I think I looked hot doing it." You simply responded, cupping his cheek with a wink. "You agree don't you mystery man?"

no he does not find you hot. he finds you extremely beautiful.

if it weren't for the fact that you were a villain and had committed so many crimes he totally would not be kissing you right now.

"Don't get your hopes up." He responded plainly holding out his hand to help you stand up.

"Uh huh sure." You responded with a knowing tone before turning around, "I'll see you tomorrow for another fun night, cya!"

no, he did not let you go because he has fun chasing you down and fighting you. no, he did not let you go because without you his life would most certainly not be less boring.

does he regret letting you go though? absolutely.

two days later he wakes up to see that all over twitter there are pictures of "him" drawing penises everywhere, giving people sign-up sheets to join professor chaos, and hanging around + helping racoon man summon a bunch of dead people to be your minions.

is later forced to do a press meeting with the freedom pals explaining to the public that no, that is not him.

"You can not keep getting away with his."

"But you let me because you love me."

"I do not."

You raised an eyebrow holding out your hands. "Okay, then arrest me, hero. Since you do not love me and instead, hate me."

He stares at you blankly as you smiled cockily. "You suck."

You laughed loudly walking up to him, slinging your arms around his neck, and pressing your bodies together. "Sure sure, you suck too."

He groaned turning away as you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Life would just be too boring without you.

#south park x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #mysterion x reader

[reaperlight]

[Written down immediately after waking up and edited somewhat for consistency and clarity]

I had a very cinematic detailed dream in which Eddie (and Venom) are working in a hospital as a nurse or emergency technician trainee under another name in another country and caught some shady goings on.

They see a patient was flat-lining but when trying to bring it to the attention of the hospital staff are told to ignore it.

It's too late to save the person but because this is all so shady Eddie takes a picture with their cellphone afterwards.

Eddie finds more shady goings on and takes more pictures.

Nurse, catching them doing it: I need to see your cell phone

Venom: Keep calm, play dumb.

Eddie: What phone?

Nurse, now with a gun: I wasn't asking

Assassins disguised as nurses tackle him.

Eddie escapes.

Nurse-assassin, impressed: Who are you, really?

Eddie: *[gives the boring fake name which he deliberately chose so people wouldn't look at them twice]*

Nurse assassin: Ewww, no thank you.

Eddie: Yeah you're not my type either

She shoots at him and he jumps out the window which is several stories up to escape and thanks to Venom sticks a superhero landing and keeps running.

***

They get to their car and find it's been obviously searched through.

The nurse-assassin and more mercenaries are chasing them

They get in the car even though they're afraid it might blow up or been tampered with.

There's a chase scene.

A metal song plays on the radio the singer screaming "sayonara you bad, bad boy" over and over to wailing electric guitars.

As they drive quickly and recklessly (and with assistance from tentacles when turning tight corners at high speeds) to lose their pursuers.

They drive until they think they've lost them.

After momentarily losing their pursuers...

Cleaning out the car of their few belongings they want to take with them and can fit in a backpack, checking them for bugs. Had to ditch the car, not only was it identifiable there might be a tracker in it.

Eddie sighing: You know we have to leave again. Start over somewhere else.

Venom: This was not my fault this time. I was good.

Eddie: I know, love. This is on me. I screwed up. Again.

Venom: I thought you did good Eddie. You tried to help someone. I'm very proud of you. Today we were a hero.

Eddie: Yeah right, I couldn't help anyone. Some hero.

Venom: You're MY hero.

They gather up their things, the car explodes behind them.

***

Eddie uploads the photos he took in the hospital to the Associated Press. He still might not know what all this was about but evidently these photos were worth trying to kill him over. He might not yet know the whole picture of what was going on but someone else might know who this is or be able to connect the dots. Also the Life Foundation was involved, even if they changed their name, and they were killing people so that was like obviously not good.

Eddie and Venom download their honeymoon photos and then ditch their old phone too in case they were tracking them that way.

***

Eddie was in his work scrubs when the chase began and has to quickly change into new clothes.

Venom takes the form of a black leather jacket with a white spider on the sleeve reminiscent of that spider-guy from that weird dream they had in Tiajuana. Venom hadn't liked the spider guy (which was weird, Eddie hadn't understood the vitriol since it was just some kid in a Halloween costume) but they had thought the design was kinda cool and they made their own version of it.

***

At some point temporarily getting captured by the bad guys and drugged but Venom is offsetting some of the effects.

Venom: Don't give them your name. Or our name.

Eddie: I know.

Venom: Don't use our friends' names either.

Eddie: I know.. Despite what you clearly think I am not a total idiot.

Interrogator, shouting: What is your name!

Eddie: ...It's Kasady. Cletus Kasady.

Venom: ...Eddie... I hate to tell you this but I think you ARE an idiot.

Eddie, intimidates his captors while Venom recovers. Stares at him unblinking, lowers his voice. Mimicking mannerisms from both Venom and Kasady to try and intimidate and throwing in a bad attempt at a southern accent which nearly ruins the effect.

Eddie: If you haven't heard of me you might wanna look me up. When I get out of here, and I will. I'm gonna. Eat. Your. Face. They will never find your body. And it's gonna be like total carnage.

The attempt at intimidation isn't as convincing as he would like initially because he sounds like he's bluffing until Venom makes a snarling sound in his throat which makes the interrogators stumble back.

Eddie: What are you doing?

Venom: Helping because I don't think they were falling for it.

They escape again...

Venom: So what exactly were you hoping to achieve by convincing them that you are a cannibalistic serial killer?

Eddie: In my defense I was drugged at the time and we couldn't exactly show all our cards then. I was just trying to get them to back off.

Venom: Yeah well I'd say that didn't work.. at all.

They believe he is Kasady now because that was so audacious that no one would believe he was lying.

Venom: I thought you had some sense knocking around in that grey matter of yours. And how do you plan to make them think we are Kasady when we already killed him?

Eddie: Well plastic surgery is a thing.

Venom: Eddie, no. You are not cutting your perfect face.

Eddie: ...I mean maybe they'll think Kasady faked his death and is running around with a new face... wait did you just say...?

Venom, embarrassed: ...Or maybe they'll just think you're an idiot!

Eddie, huffy: ...Parasite.

Venom: Take that back!

***

Feral Eddie takes down a couple of assassins by himself while Venom is still recovering/combating the effects of the drugs.

Eddie: Not bad for an idiot.

Venom: Of course, because you're MY idiot.

***

Meanwhile...

Cletus and Frances who were living an anonymous quiet life are none too pleased that they're names are back in the news.

Frances was alive under the bell, the stress and rage if the situation allowing her to consciously access her full psychic powers and telekinetically push it off (crushing the cops who come after them).

Frances hadn't been aware of it but she and Cletus had forged a psychic bond as children. Cletus was brought back to life by both Carnage (whose cells of which still remained in his corpse regrowing his head and Frances restoring his memories / personality. But he's not back a hundred percent. He didn't really remember the murders he was supposed to have committed but everyone but Carnage figures thats probably for the best.

He would prefer to live a peaceful life with his wife (and their companion) but of course would do it again if they took her again.

Later they come to Eddie's rescue.

After Eddie and Venom get caught and are being tortured.

They kill the room to save him

Carnage: I don't understand why you're bothering. They ate your head we should return the favor.

Cletus: Leave it.

Cletus: Eddie... oh Eddie. We tried to tell you but you never listened. That's okay... I guess you're learning now.

Eddie: ...What?

Frances tells them about Ravencroft and the camps.

Later...

Cletus: Eddie... we get it you don't wanna be pals but if you could keep our old name out of it in the future, that would be great. We would greatly appreciate it.

Carnage: If you hurt them again--

Cletus: Down girl.

***

As for the shady stuff going on at the hospital and the company formerly known as the Life Foundation, vampires are somehow involved--the expensive experimental drugs either turns the patient into a vampire or it kills them but either way flat-lining is a normal part of the procedure...

#venom #venom let there be carnage #venom fic prompts #venom prompts #dream #fanfic #ficlet #mini fic #fanfiction #symbrock #eddie brock #carnage #shriekingcarnage #cletus kasady #frances barrison #shriek #the life foundation #vampires #vampire #morbius #carnage (she/her) #venom (he/they) #spoilers #venom spoilers #venom let there be carnage spoilers #life foundation #shriek's comics powers #eddie & cletus

[hodgepodgequack]

I just woke up from a weird dream and I had to share it. So read more if you are interested.

So it opens with you going up a wooden creaky staircase and suddenly the lights go out. The last thing you see is a match turn on and you hear a bang.

Next thing you wake up in a world where it’s a blend of the Asticassia school of technology and Noble Bell College (in terms of general architecture). You meet a bunch of people and it turns out you battle with monsters. You are given an egg and it hatches into a monster. Then there is a reveal.

You are in a coma.

That intro? That was your sister trying to shoot because she was jealous for your dads approval. She missed and you end up getting knocked unconscious from falling down the stairs. Also it’s Victorian era for some reason and the cops get involved. They’re quickly removed because they are useless and the leader is more interested in being a perv. He seems to have a foot fetish.

Cops get kicked out because they are not doing their job.

Additionally the entire Victorian world has been obsessed with this case and once the cops leave it only gets worse. There are images (in a hand drawn style that is hard to describe but it’s closest to Utenas official art) of what’s going on at the house and there are a lot of pictures of people being drawn as the rose bride and utena from some unknown reason.

Also you are in a stereotypical iron birdcage and you are being taken care of.

One other reveal is that how long you last/ or if you wake up depends on how well you prep beforehand. So you can find items around your house to help you. And one of the items you can find are Easter eggs. But these eggs are woven with wool and are pretty colorful. anyway in my dream I found two of them. And In the coma world…they hatch into Vanitas and Noe. but it’s not regular Vanitas and Noe. They’re ducks. To be more specific they look like the duck costume from I’m the villainess so I’m taming the final boss. they even have little intros and you see scenes from the anime (but they are ducks and it’s their badass scenes) and you hear their dub voices. Additionally duck Vanitas has a mullet and Noe has a scarf. They also have stands I think?

Anyway the last thing I remember before waking up to type all this is me hatching Vanitas. I’m chasing him around a cauldron saying Donald, Donald and he replies with my name is Bill!

#My dream #murder tw #attempted murder #coma #cops #cop tw #victorian era #gundam the witch from mercury #the witch from mercury #noble bell college #NBC #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #Rgu #revolutionary girl utena #vanitas no carte #Vanitas #vanitas of the blue moon #Noe #noe archiviste #i’m the villainess so i’m taming the final boss #i have no idea where the Vanitas story line came from #I haven’t thought about the show in a long time #wtf #Dream #dreams are weird #dreams

[hoedorokishoto]

Trust - Part 2

Shoto Todoroki x Reader 

warnings - explicit sex, swearing 

previous | part | next

Todoroki had gotten taller since the last time I had been this close to him. His body also filling out and getting stronger from all the training. Changes that weren't noticeable until I was inches away from him, measuring his body for any new costume changes that might be required. From watching the training exercise I had concluded that putting a mesh suit under his current costume was the best course of action. One that was highly resistant to both hot and cold, to decrease the number of small burns and frostbite he seemed to get from using his quirk at high outputs. The same mesh being impenetrable and good if a villain ever decided to stab the future pro.

"Shinso said you are very good, and that I'm in good hands." Todoroki said, looking down at me as I continued to take his measurements.

"Were you worried beforehand?" I asked, quirking my eyebrow, and standing up. His dual-coloured eyes continued to burn holes in my back wherever I walked around the workshop.

"Is there a reason you keep staring at me?" I asked softly, not mad but uncomfortable with the constant attention.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable; I just like watching you work."

"I'm excited to see what you come up with."

Todoroki looked the part of being cool and confident but sometimes the way he spoke reminded me of what an awkward little bean he could truly be. Hitoshi stating that his social skills could still use a little work.

"Well, I'm glad you are excited. I think I could make a lot of cool improvements."

It wasn't a lie, I was excited. Any opportunity to further my career as Hero Support or be in the workshop creating new inventions was always a plus to me. It was the Hero in front of me that I had reservations about. Being with new people who I didn't really know wasn't my idea of fun. Neither was small talk. At least we had that in common, both of our silences falling over us like a heavy blanket, and it seemed that neither of us knew how to escape it.

"Are you-."

"You shou-."

You both said at the same time, looking at each other. A smile crept onto my face as Shoto's cheeks darkened with a small blush. Shoto looked down at his feet, his two-toned hair coming down to fall over his eyes.

"You were saying?" I asked, stepping closer to Todoroki, and looking up into his eyes, trying to keep him flustered, finding his awkwardness cute and endearing. He didn't step back, sizing me up.

We were so close I could feel the heat coming off his body, the proximity causing goosebumps to spread down my arms.

"I was saying you should have seen my first hero suit; it was really bad. Or as Ashido says tragic." Todoroki said, his voice low, his face still so close I could feel his breath. Todoroki was handsome, I would have to be blind to deny it. His features were sharp and prominent, his half and half colouring only adding to his air of mystery. I wanted to test the waters; see exactly how far I could push him.

"I have a feeling you could wear a sheet and still look good." I stated. Dropping back down in front of him and measuring his inseam.

"You think so?" Todoroki asked a smirk plastered across his face as he looked down at me.

"If I wanted to see you naked I think I know just how I could make that happen." I said.

Despite my brave statement I still blushed as he looked down at me still, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I bet you haven't seen anything like this." He answered quickly, leaving my mind racing. The position we were in doing nothing to help me try to get a handle on the situation.

"Are you trying to fluster me?" Todoroki asked, leaning down and putting his fingers under my chin, guiding me back up to stand with him.

"Is it working?" I asked, a similar smirk falling across my face. Leaning into his touch, his left hand warm on my skin.

"Maybe..." Is all he said, stepping off the platform and turning towards the door, picking up his bag and school uniform jacket as he went.

"Same time tomorrow?" He asked, turning around one more time to look at me, my eyes wide, trying to comprehend the situation. I didn't speak, just nodded my head in his direction and spun around. Heading to the workbench to write down all the measurements I took while it was fresh in my mind. I wanted my mind to be anywhere but thoughts of Todoroki and whatever had just happened.

                                                               *

The regular noise of the 3H dorm filled my ears as we all sat down for dinner, various pots of stew and bowls of rice steaming, spread out across the table. The day had ended like any other, covered in grease and staying in the workshop at least an hour later than you intended to only coming back to the dorm when one of the teachers turned off the lights and refused to put them back on.

"Todoroki huh, that's cool. He has a really cool quirk and you're a genius so it's like a match made in Heaven." Mei stated, her hair sticking up behind her goggles and her skin looking just as grease-stained as mine.

I just nodded, scooping rice into my mouth to avoid any real conversation, wanting to be showered and in bed as soon as possible. The exchange between Todoroki and I was still fresh in my mind even now. The intensity of his dual-coloured eyes burnt into my brain.

"Y/N lost for words? I never thought I'd see the day."

"I'm not lost for words; I just don't have anything to say..."

"So you are lost for words?" Mei laughed, swinging her arm around my shoulder, and hugging me close. I was grateful that I had found her, other than Hitoshi she was my first real friend, bonding over our love of machinery and design. She was quick to call me out on my bullshit when I needed it and quick to be a shoulder to cry on. On top of that she was a genius who always had insight into whatever project I was working on, helping, and lending advice whenever necessary. If you looked up mum friend in the dictionary she was it. If your mum stayed up all night, had big boobs, ran on coffee and had a steam punk obsession.

Ding

Sen – Hey, how was your day? You busy tonight?

Even the way he typed was perfect, down to the last comma. I wished that Sen could be anything other than someone I fucked around with but the feelings one should have just weren't there. I often wondered if I was keeping him from someone, someone who could return his feelings. Someone who deserved to receive nicely punctuated text messages over dinner wondering about how their day was.

Y/N – Your room or mine?

                                                             *

His grip on my waist was so hard I thought it might bruise, but that was an afterthought as I felt Sen thrust up into me, filling me up and hitting the spot inside me that caused a knot to grow in my stomach, a sign of my impending orgasm.

I looked down at him, his eyes closed as his head was thrown back, his face was cute in this situation. Different from the handsome angular face he usually wore. His brown hair was stuck to his temples, our bodies sweaty from the activities we were currently partaking in.

"You feel so good." Sen moaned out, his mouth starting to kiss up my neck, his handing snaking around and holding the back of my head and neck. Holding me somewhat steady as I continued to ride him.

We both picked up the pace, chasing our orgasms as the sound of skin on skin rang out throughout the room. He kissed me, hard. All teeth and tongues. Both of us coming together with a loud moan. I slumped into him, his arms circling around me pulling me closer as we both caught our breath. I wished I hated him, I wished I didn't care about his feelings. He was comforting, it was times like this that I really wished I could like him how he wanted me to. How he deserved.

I rolled off him, planting my feet on the ground, walking around the room looking for my clothes that had been thrown around the room. I heard Sen shuffle behind me, taking off the condom, tying it off, and throwing it in the trash can by the door.

He came up behind me, I could feel his presence looming over me like a ghost. He reached out and touched my side as I pulled my jeans back up and clipped my bra up.

"You don't have to go." Sen said quietly, almost a whisper. There it was, the words that had the power to cleave my heart in two. Not for my sake but for his, at every turn I was reminded how bad of a person I was, I reminded myself that no matter how nice people were to you or how good it felt when they were inside you, nothing ever really lasted, and the people who claimed to care the most were always the first ones to leave. Why couldn't Sen see that?  Romantic relationships were a distraction which I didn't want to get myself involved in and neither should he.

I turned and took the shirt from him that he held out, slipping it over my head. Collecting the last of my things like my phone and shoes and stopped in front of him once again.

"I'll text you later." I said softly, stepping up onto my tiptoes and kissing his cheek. Not looking back as I left his dorm and made my way to the elevator. Praying that all his classmates and Mr. Vlad were asleep.

I made it out of the 3B dorms without any fuss, no hero students, or pro heroes in sight. Thank God. The night air was cool and made the walk back to my dorm quite pleasant, I wasn't in a rush, taking in everything around me. The students jogging around the grounds and the dorms that were lit up with life. The 1st years loudly yelling and laughing, no doubt getting used to dorm life.

I came to a stop outside the 3A dorm, contemplating visiting Hitoshi knowing that regardless of the time he would be up and if he weren't he would wake up for me. I wanted to talk to him, but I also didn't want another weird almost lecture like he gave me the other day. It was hard to talk to people who knew me better than I knew myself sometimes because there was never any hiding. There wasn't anything that I could hide from Hitoshi, even if I tried.

Just as I was about to move on the large doors of the dorm swung open, a very pissed Todoroki stepping out, being followed by an equally as pissed Momo Yaoyorozu. Without thinking I ducked behind the nearest bush and hid. Not meaning to spy on their conversation but also not wanting to look like a creep who snuck around other people's dorms at night.

"I honestly don't know why you are being like this Shoto. Just get over it and we can go back to how everything was." Yaoyorozu said in the distance.

"It was almost 2 years ago; I don't want to do anything with you. Even if I did want any form of relationship with you I definitely wouldn't want it to be like how it was back then." Todoroki replied.

Both of their voices distant, further enough away from the dorm so their classmates wouldn't hear but not close enough to me that I could hear all their conversation.

"That's a bit harsh. We should be together. Both of our fathers think it's a good idea."

"When have I ever given a fuck what my father thinks?"

"Shoto, don't be vulgar. You have been hanging out with Bakugo for too long. He has started to rub off on you."

"I don't want to have this conversation with you anymore Yaomomo, I've said what I had to say, it's you that keeps bringing it up. I won't be getting back together with you, I won't be sleeping with you anymore and I won't even consider it just because our stuck-up scum bag fathers think it's right!" Shoto yelled loudly, there was no doubt that everyone in the vicinity had heard.

Yaoyorozu stomped her foot and pouted, turning on her heels and walking away.

"Well, I still have your cashmere sweater! I'm keeping it!" She shouted over her shoulder.

"Yeah well I still have your virginity, so I guess you win some you lose some." Shoto said back, causing Momo to huff and walk back towards the large doors. I chuckled at his statement, this Shoto vastly different from 1st year Shoto, different again from the Shoto that was in your workshop earlier today.

Yaoyorozu didn't look back as she entered the dorm, leaving Shoto Todoroki standing in the moonlight, looking even more ethereal than usual. If it were even possible.

And me, standing in a bush looking like a creep.

#shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #mha x reader #sen kaibara #kaibara x reader #bnha #shoto smut #todoroki x reader #bnha fanfiction

[amtwst-tls]

Scary outfit Jade Personal Story Translation Part 2

Jade Scary Outfit Part 2

Would you please teach me?

Where the 2nd years all talk about the Halloween traditions back at their places.

Classroom

Jade: Would you mind teaching me about the many different ways you all celebrate Halloween?

Riddle: ...Halloween, huh.

Riddle: In my hometown, typically young children would gather in the plaza and hold a 'Fun Party.'

Jamil: Why do you sound so detached?

Riddle: That's because I've only ever attended it once. So I can't speak much about it.

Riddle: The one thing that left an impression on me was the 'Apple Bobbing.'

Floyd: Goldfish-chan, what's that...Apple....whatchamacallit? That sure sounds real tasty~

Riddle: It's a traditional game that is played in the Rose Kingdom.

Riddle: You fill a large tub with water, and some apples will be tossed in, floating on the surface, which you have to try and catch with your mouth. Of course, you can't use your hands for this.

Jade: That... certainly sounds like a game to be played on the surface.

Azul: Indeed, the moment one lets go of the apple under the sea, it would immediately try to rise to the surface.

Jade: I suppose chasing after the apple could be a game in itself.

Floyd: That actually sounds real interestin'~

Silver: However... is it even possible to catch an apple with one's mouth?

Riddle: They normally use smaller apples rather than the regular ones... but even then it can be difficult.

Jade: Children with bigger physique would have the better advantage in trying to capture the apple in their mouth.

Riddle: Certainly, one would need good jaw strength to match the size of their mouth as well.

Ruggie: In this school, Jade and Floyd definitely have the advantage here.

Ruggie: They're dang huge. With sharp teeth to boot.

Jade: Fufufu, I wonder about that. I would be too shy to open my mouth so wide with people staring at me...

Jade: And I just may not be able to catch the apple in time while bumbling around...

Floyd: I mean, how do ya even decide on who wins in this kinda game?

Riddle: According to our rules, I think the one who manages to catch an apple the quickest would be considered the winner.

Riddle: There are regions in the Land of Pyroxene that play this game as well.

Riddle: Cater said that in his hometown, the winner was decided by who got the most number of apples.

Riddle: I was never able to grasp the technique, and would end up drenched from head to toe...

Riddle: Thinking back on it now though, I suppose the result was never the important part.

Riddle: Having fun, laughing at each other as we all struggle to catch that apple... I think such joys are important.

Jade: Certainly, to be able to see Riddle-san desperately chasing after an apple with his mouth wide open would be quite amus-

Jade: -I mean, would be worth seeing, yes.

Riddle: Just what were you trying to imply...

Kalim: I get what you were trying to say Riddle! It's not about winning or losing, it's all about whether you had fun or not!

Riddle: Yes... that's right.

Kalim: It's kinda different from the Rose Kingdom, the Halloween over at our Land of Hot Sands is real fun too!

Jade: Oh? Does the Land of Hot Sands have it's own peculiar recreational activity as well?

Kalim: Nope! When you say Halloween in the Land of Hot Sands, we mean 'Feast'!

Kalim: That's because in our homeland, to spend time together as we enjoy a splendid feast is what we consider to be the most fun!

Kalim: That's why, when Halloween comes around, the tables are almost overflowing with all kinds of delicacies!

Jamil: We do this so the ghosts that come back can also eat to their heart's content.

Jamil: Sweet, salty spicy... from small appetizers to large platters, we prepare a wide variety of dishes.

Jamil: When Halloween is close, the kitchens are always on full overdrive from the meal prepping alone.

Jade: Someday I would love to feast my eyes on such a sumptuous dining table myself... Are there any staple dishes for the tradition?

Kalim: The star of the Halloween Feast... it's definitely gotta be that dish.

Kalim: What was it again? That dish we bake with vegetables and sauce...

Jamil: Who knows?

Kalim: Ah, your face tells me you know it. C'mon, it's that one! The one with potatoes, eggplants and tomatoes!!

Jade: Is it something like... a lasagna that had the pasta replaced with vegetables instead?

Kalim: Ahh that's actually pretty close to it. It's super delicious when freshly baked.

Azul: I see, it certainly sounds like a dish that would be popular with people who prefer a healthy diet.

Jade: Jamil-san, would you mind telling us the name of the dish?

Jamil: Ha... It's a local specialty called 'Moussaka.'

Kalim: Yeah that! That's the one!

Kalim: When we were younger, even if there was no banquet or feast going on, I'd still ask Jamil to cook it for me time to time!

Jamil: It was quite the mess back then... my parents, and even the other servants would always scold me, telling me that children shouldn't handle fire by themselves.

Kalim: Eh!? That happened??

Jamil: We were still in elementary school after all.

Jamil: It's not like I was already great at cooking from that age... It would've been a big problem if I accidentally set a fire.

Jamil: I can now understand why my parents and the people around me used to get angry whenever I tried.

Kalim: Oof... I'm really sorry about that.

Kalim: But the moussaka you cooked back then was also super delicious! I can still remember the taste...

Kalim: Talking about it got me hankering for it again. Jamil, you gotta make it for me soon!

Azul: I would like to request it as well. It may be a good addition to the Mostro Lounge menu....

Jamil: No.

Kalim: Aww, don't say that Jamil~

Jamil: Moussaka is a very time-consuming dish that needs a lot of ingredients to make, it even needs two kinds of sauces to be prepared for it

Jamil: I don't believe such a dish is a good fit for a cafe.

Jade: From the sounds of it, it seems to be a dish that requires an oven to bake it.

Jade: The oven back at the Lounge isn't quite big... it would be quite difficult to bake enough of it.

Azul: I'm sure there are a number of ways to increase the turnover rate if you cook it all in one big platter.

Ruggie: Octanivelle's the same as ever.

Jade: Fufu... I suppose we can have a nice, long discussion about this once I have tried Jamil's cooking myself.

Jamil: Wait, I never said that I would make it- ...sigh...

Silver: *snore*

Jamil: See, you've bored Silver to sleep while you were hyped up about making profits.

Jade: Oh my, this won't do. My apologies for derailing the conversation.

Jade: Excuse me for a moment, Silver-san, Would you please wake up?

Silver: ...ha! I apologize. You want to know the traditions of Halloween at the Valley of Thorns, was it.

Jade: Yes, if you would please.

Silver: Halloween... all I can remember is my fath- I mean, Lilia-senpai going all out on dressing up for the occasion.

Riddle: As I recall, both of you are from the same province.

Jade: I see, so even the people from the Valley of Thorns would have costumes... It seems to be a standard custom no matter where you are from on the surface.

Silver: Do merfolk not have costumes?

Jade: We do not have a habit of wearing clothes in the first place.

Jade: But it is precisely because of that fact that I find wearing the many different kind of clothes from the surface quite interesting. Silver: As a matter of fact, it is quite difficult to say that dressing up was a fun memory... I shudder even now when I recall it.

Floyd: Ehh~ Wasn't pancake devilfish-chan even smaller back then?

Silver: Oh, there is not much of a change in terms of appearance, however...

Silver: It was the one and only Halloween that I had seen Lilia-senpai in such a fearsome visage....

Jade: My, that does sound very curious indeed, since he prides himself on being quite cute, and it's hard to disagree.

Silver: Lilia-senpai's threatening demeanor when dressed up like that...

Silver: Sebek who had witnessed the horror with me was also trembling in fear...

Silver: The two of us were so afraid to fall asleep that we promised to stay up all night together.

Jade: Oh my, if I were to be exposed to such horror, I would surely let out a loud scream myself...

Floyd: Ehh~ What the heck, I wanna see that too~ We've been together since the day we were born and I haven't got 'ta see that even once!

Ruggie: So~? Did you both end up greetin' the dawn with tears?

Silver: No, I ended up falling asleep at some point.

Riddle: As I thought...

Silver: Apparently, Sebek had to hold off on going to the toilet the whole night, so the next morning he was angry at me and called me a traitor.

Ruggie: Wow~ Even Sebek had such a cute side to him huh.

Jamil: Well then Ruggie, how is Halloween over at your place?

Ruggie: Me? I don't think our Halloween over at the slums would make much of a reference for ya.

Jade: Now now, I find any and every aspect of culture on the surface to be interesting, so please do enlighten me.

Ruggie: Well, I don't mind tellin' ya, but don't go gettin' all weirded out after hearin' it...

Ruggie: "Trick or Treat" is where ya get pranked if ye don't hand out the candy yeah?

Ruggie: But back at my place, it ain't anythin' as cute as that.

Ruggie: If candy isn't handed over, you'd be marked until ye do... it's a 24 hour candy collectin' endurance event! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Wow that was long, really long, I almost died but I did it for y’all ;-; Note: Jamil and Kalim actually call the dish “Munazzara” but I believe that is another term for ‘Moussaka’ in jpn, I changed it so it’s easier to place. Part 1 Part 3

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst tls #twisted wonderland tls #twst translations #twisted wonderland translations #jade leech #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto #riddle rosehearts #ruggie bucchi #kalim al asim #jamil viper #silver #twst silver #twst halloween #twisted wonderland halloween #scary monsters #twst sm #halloween event #twst event #aera's tls

[mshomestyle]

Hello, can i request a headcanon or drabble about hawks and his s/o, a fluffy one please. The s/o loves halloween and want to plan an alice in wonderland party for this year. But one time hawks wake up into the wonderland and he was chasing his s/o and met familiar faces. Is it a dream or not?

TBH, it’s been ages since I’ve seen Alice in Wonderland, so I hope I do this right!

Hawks x Reader: Hawks having an Alice in Wonderland dream [Head Canons]:

-You’re in your element

-Or at least that’s how Keigo would describe it.

-As you walk around the party supply store, piling up Halloween decorations into the shopping cart that Keigo is pushing for you, your significant other can’t help but to admire the look in your eyes.

-“I can’t wait for the party!” You gush happily as you throw in these oddly huge fake flowers into the shopping cart. Keigo can’t help but to think that he’s going to need to get another basket soon, “Alice in Wonderland is such a great theme for it, too!”

-“You’re really outdoing yourself, babe,” Keigo compliments. Honestly, he didn’t care if you decorated with garbage bags, he’s just enjoying how cute you’re being about this.

-“Well, with your help, of course I am~.” You lean over and kiss his lips before continuing on with your shopping.

-Once you make it home, it only takes one trip for you to get all of the decorations into your shared apartment being as Keigo uses his wings to help carry them all.

-The party is the day after the next, so once the current day is over with, you both work hard to get all of the decorations up.

-You had bought a lot of stuff, so it’s taking much more time than you or Keigo had expected.

-“I feel like I’m failing as a hero, because I really can’t believe that decorating of all things is starting to tire me out,” Keigo says. You can’t help but to giggle at that.

-“Don’t worry, you’re doing a good job,” you point out, currently standing on a tall stool as you hang up some of the big flowers.

-“And you better be safe,” Keigo says as his eyes go over to look at you, “I think we’re going to need some more tape. I’ll go check to see if we have any more.” And with that, Keigo starts to look all over trying to find out where your spare tape would be. He then goes into your bedroom, remembering that last night you took some bags into there, wanting to start on the party favors.

-Once Keigo spots the extra tape, he also notices how warm and inviting the bed looks. Would it be wrong of him to take a nap now? He wouldn’t be much use to you if he became even more tired, so following that line of logic, he can’t help but to get in bed and fall asleep.

-“Keigo….Keigo!”

-At the sound of his name being called, Keigo wakes up, and when he does, the first thing he notices is that he is no longer in your shared bedroom, but rather in a completely different place. This place looks oddly similar to something straight out of Alice in Wonderland. At first, Keigo wonders if he’s in the living room, but this place didn’t look like that at all…

-It was the inside of a house no doubt, but for some strange reason the furniture looks rather large.

-“Keigo, we’re going to be late!” At the sound of the voice, Keigo looks around until he spots you standing over him and wearing a rather lovely looking bunny costume that he found to suit you nicely~.

-“Babe, we-Hey, wait!” Before he can finish his sentence, you take off, somehow seeming to move incredibly fast. Since Keigo was usually spoke of as ‘the man who was too fast for his own good’, this definitely shocks him. What is going on?

-Keigo decides to chase after you, but once he gets to the door, he notices that the door knob is way out of reach. Seriously, where is he?

-Looking around he notices two bottles on the table filled with liquid and once he sees that he can’t help but to say, “No way.” If this is just like how it was in the story, then Keigo knew that one of those drinks would make him the right size.

-And after some trial and error, he figures it out and manages to leave the house in order to look for you. “Where did she go?” he questions out loud to himself as he continues on the path before him and ignoring the rather large flowers that are all around him.

-As he progresses he comes across a fork in the road with two signs on one post. Now this was getting trickier as Keigo cannot remember which way Alice went in the story. “Need some help?”

-Keigo looks around for a body that belongs to the voice and looking up at a tree he notices a pair of eyes that soon faded into a very familiar person, “Mirko!” he says, and upon further inspection he can’t help but to say, “Wh…Why are you a cat?” Her usual bunny ears and tail was replaced with cat ears and tails.

-The cat Mirko was able to provide Keigo with some direction and he travels forward until he comes across what looks like a fenced in backyard.

-It had to have been the Mad Hatter’s tea party, and with that in mind Keigo cannot help but to think that this can only get weirder and weirder.

-Walking through the fence, Keigo notices a large dining table outside and looked around at the people sitting there, he can’t help but to call out to them, “All Might?...Endeavor?...Best Jeanist?” And why is Best Jeanist wearing mice ears?

-“Unbirthdays do not exist!” Endeavor bangs at the table with one of his fists before pointing at All Might, who is dressed like the Mad Hatter, in an accusatory fashion. “Stop this nonsense!”

-“I don’t make the rules!” All Might spoke with his hands up in defense.

-Keigo felt as if he had enough at this point. Where are you? And why did you drag him here of all places? And where even is here?

-“Keigo!” Ah, there was your voice again!....But where were you? “Keigo!”

-With a jolt, Keigo woke up and notices you, once again, standing over him. Though upon looking around, he sees that he is in your bedroom. “Come on, babe, you can’t leave all of the work to me,” you pout.

-“Oh, sorry, baby. I was just…having a pretty weird dream,” he admits. Perhaps, he can take the main idea that he learned from that dream and use it.

-“Well, hurry up. We’ll be up late decorating at night if we stall too much,” you whine before you leave the room, and as Keigo watches you, he can’t help but want to apply what he learned now. So, he stands up and follows you, saying,

-“Hey, [Name], we should get you a skimpy bunny costume.”

#hawks #hawks x reader #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #mha keigo takami #keigo x reader #reader #reader insert #my hero academia #my hero x reader #boku no hero academia #boku no hero x reader #my hero headcanons #Headcanon #head cannons #headcanons

[oscopelabs]

Christopher Nolan: The Man Who Wasn’t There by Daniel Carlson

1.

So, we’ll start with the fact that all movies are make-believe. It’s a bunch of actors on a set, wearing costumes and standing with props picked out by hordes of people you’ll never see, under the guidance of a director, saying things that have been written down for them while doing their best to say these things so that it sounds like they’re just now thinking of them. We all know this—saying it feels incredibly stupid, like pointing out that water is wet—but it’s still worth noting. There is, for example, no such person as Luke Skywalker. Never has been, never will be. He was invented by a baby boomer from Modesto. He is not real.

And we know this, and that’s part of the fun. We know that Luke Skywalker isn’t real but is being portrayed by an actor (another boomer from the Bay Area, come to think of it), and that none of the things we’re seeing are real. But we give ourselves over to the collective fiction for the greater experience of becoming involved in a story. This is one of the most amazing things that we do as humans. We know—deep down, in our bones, without-a-doubt know—that the thing we’re watching is fiction, but we enter a state of suspended reality where we imagine the story to be real, and we allow ourselves to be moved by it. We’ve been doing this since we developed language. The people telling these stories know this and bring the same level of commitment and imagination and assurance that we do as viewers, too. The storyteller knows that the story isn’t real, but for lack of a better way to get a handle on it, it feels real. So, to continue with the example, we’re excited when Luke Skywalker blows up the Death Star because he helped the good guys win. For us viewers, in this state of mutually reinforced agreement, that “happened.” It’s not real, but it’s “real”—that is, it’s real within the established boundaries of the invented world that we’ve all agreed to sit and look at for a couple of hours. Every viewer knows this, and every filmmaker acts on it, too. Except:

Christopher Nolan does not do this.

2.

There’s no one single owner or maker of any movie, and anyone who tells you different has their hand in your pocket. But there’s an argument to be made that when somebody both writes and directs the movie, it’s a bit easier to locate a sense of personhood in the final product. (This is all really rough math, too, and should not be used in court.) Christopher Nolan has directed 11 films to date, and while his style can be found in all of them, his self is more present in the ones where he had a hand in the shaping of the story—and crucially, not just that, but in the construction of the fictional world. Take away the superhero trilogy, the remake of a Norwegian thriller, the adaptation of a novel, and the historical drama, and Nolan’s directed five films that can reasonably be attributed to his own creative universe: Following (1998), Memento (2000), Inception (2010), Interstellar (2014), and Tenet (2020). These movies all involve themes that Nolan seems to enjoy working with no matter the source material, including identity, memory, and how easily reality can be called into question when two people refuse to concede that they had very different experiences of the same event. Basically, he makes movies about how perception shapes existence. How he does this, though, is unlike pretty much everybody else.

Take Inception. After a decade spent going from hotshot new talent to household name (thanks to directing the two highest-grossing Batman movies ever made, as well as the first superhero movie to earn an Oscar for acting), he had the credit line to make something big and flashy that was also weird and personal. So we got an action movie that, when first announced in the Hollywood trades, was described as being set within “the architecture of the mind.” Although this at first seemed to be a phrase that only a publicist could love, it turned out to be the best way to describe the film. This is a film, after all, about a group of elite agents who use special technology to enter someone’s subconscious dream-state and then manipulate that person’s memories and emotions. The second half of the film sees team leader Dom Cobb (Leonardo DiCaprio) and the rest of the squad actually descend through multiple nested subconsciouses to achieve their goal, even as they’re chased every step of the way by representations of Mal (Marion Cotillard), Dom’s late wife, who committed suicide after spending too much time in another’s subconscious and lost the ability to discern whether she was really alive or still in the dream-world.

I say “representations” because that’s what they are: Mal is long dead, but Dom still feels enormous guilt over his complicity in her actions, and that guilt shows up looking like Mal, whose villainous actions (the representation’s actions, that is) are just more signs of Dom not being able to come to grips with his own past. It’s his own brain making these things up and attacking itself, and it chases his entire crew down three successive layers of dream worlds. You get caught up in the movie’s world as a viewer, and you go along because Nolan is pretty good at making exciting movies that feel like theme-park rides. You accept that Dom and everybody else refer to Mal as Mal and not, say, Dom. Dom even addresses her (“her”) when her projection shows up, speaking to her as if she’s a separate being with her own will and desires and not a puppet that he’s pretending not to know he’s controlling. It’s only later that you realize that the movie is in some ways just a big-budget rendition of what it would look like to really, really want to avoid therapy.

Which is what makes Nolan different from other filmmakers:

None of this is actually happening.

Again, yes, it’s happening in the sense that we see things on screen—explosions, chases, a fight scene in a rotating hallway that’s still some of the best practical-effects work in modern action movies—but within the universe of the film, none of what’s going on is taking place in the real world. It’s all unfolding in the subconsciouses of Dom’s teammates. In the movie’s real world, they’re all asleep on a luxury jet. They’re “doing” things that have an outcome on the plot, but Nolan sets more than half the movie inside dreams. It’s a movie about reality where we spend less time in reality than in fantasy. Half the movie is pretend.

For Nolan, filmmaking is about using a dazzling array of techniques to create a visual spectacle that distracts the viewer from the fact that the real and true story is happening somewhere else: in the fringes we can’t quite see, in the things we forget to remember, or even in the realm of pure speculation.

3.

Memento arrived like (and with) a gunshot. It seemed to come out of nowhere and leave people struggling to describe it, and they usually wound up saying something like “it goes backward, but also forward at the same time, except some parts are actually really backward, like in reverse, so it’s maybe a circle?” Written by Christopher Nolan from an idea originally shared with him by his brother, Jonathan (who eventually turned it into a very different short story titled “Memento Mori”), the film follows a man named Leonard (Guy Pearce) who has anterograde amnesia and can’t form new memories, so every few minutes he sort of just resets and has to figure out where he is, what he’s doing there, and so on. He’s on the hunt for the man who attacked him and his wife, leaving his wife dead and Leonard in his present condition, which you can imagine does not make the gathering and synthesis of clues easy.

What’s more, Nolan puts the viewer in Leonard’s shoes by breaking the film’s linear timeline into two halves—call them A and B—and then alternating between them, with the added disorientation coming from the fact that one of those timeline halves plays out backward, with each successive scene showing what happened before the one you previously saw. So, if you numbered all the scenes in each timeline in chronological order, they’d look something like this when arranged in the final film: Scene A1, Scene B22, Scene A2, Scene B21, Scene A3, Scene B20, etc. You get why it messed with people’s heads.

As a result, we spend most of the movie pretty confused, just like Leonard, whose suppositions about what might or might not take place next begin to substitute for our own understanding of the film. It’s not until the end that we find out the shoe already dropped, and that Leonard killed the original attacker some time ago and has since been led on a series of goose chases by his cop friend, Teddy (Joe Pantoliano), who’s planting fake clues to get Leonard to take out other criminals. In other words, we realize that the story we thought was happening was pretend, and the real story was happening all around us, in the margins, memories, and imaginations of the characters. The most honest moment in the movie is the scene where Leonard hires a sex worker to wait several minutes in the bathroom while he gets in bed, then make a noise with the door to wake him, at which point his amnesia has kicked in again and he briefly thinks that the noise is being made by his wife. He’s wrong, of course, but this is the only time in the movie that we actually know he’s wrong. It’s the only time we truly know what’s real and what isn’t.

Yet you can’t talk about Memento without talking about Following, Nolan’s first feature. Although the film’s production was so extremely low-budget you’d think they were lying—the cast and crew all had day jobs and could only film on the weekends, so the thing took a year to make—Nolan’s willingness to dwell completely in a make-believe world that the viewer never knows about is already evident. It’s about a bored young writer who starts following strangers through the city for kicks, only for one of those strangers to catch him in the act and confront him. The stranger introduces himself as Cobb—I kindly submit here that it is not a coincidence that this is also Leonardo DiCaprio’s character’s name in Inception, but you already knew that—and reveals himself to be a burglar, spooked by the tail but willing to take on an apprentice. Cobb trains the writer to be a burglar, only for the situation to ultimately wind up implicating the writer himself in a complex blackmail plot. You see, the writer didn’t latch onto Cobb in a crowd; Cobb lured him in. The whole movie has been Cobb’s story all along, with the writer as a patsy who doesn’t understand the truth until the final frame. None of what we saw mattered, and everything that actually happened happened off-screen just before or just after we came in on a given scene. It’s like realizing the movie you’re watching turned out to be just deleted scenes from something else. You can’t say Nolan didn’t show his hand from the start.

4.

That same general concept—that the movie we’re watching is actually the knock-on effect of a movie we’ll only glimpse, or maybe never even see—underpins Nolan’s latest movies, Interstellar and Tenet, too. Interstellar has some concepts that are iffy even for Nolan (it makes total sense for someone to do something for another out of love, but somewhat less sense that that love somehow reshapes the physical universe), but it’s still a big, bold approach to exploring how time and perception shape our actions. As the film follows its core group of astronauts while they search for potentially habitable new worlds, they encounter strange visions and experiences that turn out to be their handiwork from the future reflected back at them. Sure, it raises the paradoxical question of whether they had a first mission before this that failed, so now their future selves are intervening to make the second one (which feels like the first one to the astronauts the whole time) successful, and all sorts of other stuff that your sophomore-year roommate would like to talk with you about in great detail. But so much of what we see isn’t the stuff that happens, or that winds up being important. There’s the great scene where the astronauts land on a planet near a black hole, which is wreaking havoc on how time passes on the planet. A minor disaster delays their departure for the main ship still in orbit, but when the landing team returns, they find that more than 20 years have “passed” since they left, with the one remaining team member on the ship having spent more than two decades waiting for them to return. It’s a moment of genuine horror, and it underscores the fact that what we thought was the one true reality was just the perspective of a handful of characters we happened to follow for a few minutes. There were whole things happening that changed the plot and story and direction of everything that would follow, and we never saw them; we didn’t even know we’d missed them.

Tenet is, of course, the latest and most recursive exploration yet of Nolan’s obsession with showing us a story that turns out to be mostly fake. It is almost perversely hard to even begin to explain the film (Google “Tenet timeline infographic” and have fun). One way to think about it is to imagine if the two timeline halves from Memento somehow existed at the same time, with people moving both forward and backward through time while inhabiting the same location. Basically, some scientists figured out how to “invert” the basic entropy of objects, so that they exist backward: you hold out your hand and the ball on the ground leaps up into it, because you’ve dropped it in the future, so now you can pick it up, etc. … Look, it doesn’t get easier to understand.

The upshot is, though, that we spend the film following the Protagonist (that’s his name), a CIA agent played by John David Washington, as he’s tasked with tracking down the source of the inverted stuff to figure out what’s unfolding in the future and why it’s suddenly started to make itself known in the present. He gets marginally closer to understanding the truth by the end of the film, but because this is a Nolan film that is maybe more expressly about the nature of reality than anything he’s ever done, his journey doesn’t so much take him forward as it does in a large circle. Because, and stop me if you’ve heard this, the true story of Tenet is taking place outside the Protagonist’s actions and knowledge, alongside him but invisible, often steered by people who themselves are moving “backward” through time and thus have already met the Protagonist in the future and are old friends with him by the time he meets them in his youth. Even more brain-liquefying, some of these people have been working under the orders of the Protagonist himself—the future version, that is—because his past self has already achieved the victories that allowed him to send the future people backward through time to meet his younger self so they’d achieve the victories that allow him to etc., etc., etc.

With Tenet, Nolan didn’t just make a movie that challenged perception, like Memento, or that dwelt in fiction, like Inception. He made a movie that can only be understood (to whatever degree true understanding is possible) by rewatching the movie itself, over and over, as the multiple timelines and harrowingly complex bits of cause and effect come into some kind of focus. The whole movie itself isn’t happening, in a sense, but is just the ramifications of something else, the echoes of a shout whose origin we’re straining to pinpoint. It both is and isn’t.

5.

Christopher Nolan is a talented director of action-driven suspense thrillers. He’s canny at controlling the audience’s emotions, and he knows how to put on a dazzling show. Plus he’s fantastic at picking when to deploy non-computer-generated effects for maximum impact. But you could say that about a lot of other directors, too. What sets Nolan apart from the rest, and what makes him a director to keep watching and returning to, is the teasing way his movies wind up being just deceptive enough to fool you into thinking that you know what’s going on, then just harsh enough to disabuse you of that notion. Looking at what seems to drive him, I don’t think Tenet is his best movie-movie, but it’s his most-Nolan movie. It’s almost a culmination of his continuing efforts to tell stories where what you see and what actually happens are two different things. It’s not that he makes puzzles to solve. There is no solving these movies. Rather, it’s that he sculpts these delicate artifacts that only let you see two dimensions at a time, never all three, no matter how you twist your head. Craning back and forth, you can almost see the whole thing, but not quite. Some part of it will always have to exist in your memory. And that’s where Christopher Nolan likes to be.

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[tripleaxeldiaz]

maybe one day i’ll fly next to you

chapter 2/8

read on ao3

start from the beginning

Autumn Classic doesn’t mean anything, really — the USFSA won’t look at it when considering Olympic spots — but it’s Buck’s favorite competition of the year. It’s his first chance to see new programs, size up competition, gauge where he thinks he’ll be landing this season. It’s also the first buzz of nerves and adrenaline that he feels after six months of break, and it’s a high he keeps chasing all season.

It’s a long flight to Toronto plus time changes, so he’s exhausted by the time they get to the hotel. He blearily accepts his room key from Bobby as he heads to the elevator, leaning heavily against the wall on the short ride up. He’s already dreaming about falling into bed as he opens the door, expecting to see Chimney as usual, but instead sees Eddie, standing in the middle of the room, scrolling through his phone. He looks up as the door shuts behind Buck and gives him a small smile.

“I, uh, didn’t know which bed you wanted, so I figured I’d wait until you got here.”

Buck, brain still half-offline, just looks at him for a minute before saying, “You’re not Chimney.”

Eddie lets out a surprised laugh, “No, not last time I checked. Bobby said he volunteered to chaperone the Juniors floor so he gave him a single. Guess that means you’re stuck with me.”

Buck makes a mental note to hunt Chimney down in the morning, but right now all he wants to do is sleep so he’s at least somewhat rested for practice at the asscrack of dawn.

“This one’s fine,” he says, dropping his bag at the foot of the closest bed before belly flopping onto it. He already feels himself drifting off as Eddie rifles through his own bag.

“Mind if I shower first?” he asks. Buck waves him a “yes” without moving the rest of his body. He thinks he hears a snort before the bathroom door closes and the shower turns on. The drone of the water almost puts him to sleep again, but he gets up with a groan instead, propping himself against the headboard while he waits. He could just say fuck it and go right to bed, but he’s been in three different airports today and feels disgusting, and he’d rather not wake up at 4am to shower in the morning.

He’s scrolling through the schedule Bobby emailed, figuring out the absolute latest he can set his alarm for, when the bathroom door opens again, steam pouring into the room. Eddie emerges, towel wrapped around his waist, droplets of water still falling down his flushed chest and shoulders, and Buck feels like he swallowed his tongue. Because, yes, he might hate the guy, but he also has eyes. Eyes that are currently taking in miles of skin and lean muscle so perfect it looks like he’s carved out of marble. His back muscles ripple as he leans over to grab a shirt from his bag before going back into the bathroom, and Buck actually feels his mouth water. 

He hasn’t had sex in...a while. Two and a half seasons, to be exact. He hasn’t felt this attracted to someone so quickly in even longer. Since his leg healed, his sole focus has been skating — practicing day in and day out to get his jumps consistent, his skating skills back up to speed. And since he’s still having issues, he hasn’t even let sex or relationships cross his mind, didn’t want to lose focus. Apparently, he was a lot more focused than he thought he was, if it prevented him from noticing all this.

That lust — so intense he still feels it lingering in his gut — quickly turns into familiar irritation though, because of course, along with being a world class skater, Eddie also looks like a goddamn supermodel. Buck knows he’s no slouch himself, but this is a stupid new level. A distracting new level, and distractions are not something Buck needs right now.

Plus, he’d never sleep with Eddie anyway. He hates him.

The bathroom door opens again, and this time Eddie is, thankfully, fully clothed. “All yours,” he says, jerking his head toward the door as he sits down on his bed. 

Buck nods, quickly grabbing his things and shutting the door behind him. He turns the shower to cold and gets in immediately, the shock of it waking him up and burning any lasting arousal out of him. He closes his eyes, trying to forget Eddie’s everything and focus instead on the things he needs to work on at practice tomorrow, where he put his KT tape, literally anything else.

He’s better by the time he’s done, just at the usual baseline of annoyance he’s always at where Eddie’s concerned. Eddie’s still awake, TV quietly playing a rerun of some sitcom, when Buck comes back and falls into his bed. He ignores Eddie as much as he can as he texts Maddie and sets his alarm, though he swears he feels his eyes on him when he’s not looking. Exhaustion finally takes over as he turns off his lamp, and he’s asleep as soon as he flips to his side. 

He dreams he’s falling again, but this time, someone with golden skin and a blinding smile is falling with him.

~~~~~~~~~~

The first half of the week goes by in a blur — three days of wake up, skate, eat, skate, sleep, repeat — and before he knows it, it’s short program day. He wakes up to Eddie’s alarm — they had to be up at the same time anyway — and takes a minute to just lay in bed, feel the butterflies already forming in his stomach, excitement and anticipation lighting up every nerve ending.

Rooming with Eddie has been...not terrible, so far. He’s clean, quiet, doesn’t hog the bathroom. The second night, after long practices that left them physically drained but mentally wide awake, they even watched a movie together — some made-for-TV psychological thriller that started as background noise but quickly turned into them coming up with the most ridiculous ways for the movie to end, and Buck actually getting it right.

It’s...weird. Buck has spent most of the last year actively avoiding Eddie, but now that the cold shoulder he usually gives him has thawed out a little bit, it’s not so bad. He’s still irritatingly perfect on multiple fronts, but he can at least hold a conversation with him now.

They leave the room together, grabbing a quick breakfast at the hotel before heading to their last practice. It’s silent, each of them in their own heads about when they need to get ready, but it’s not awkward. Buck would almost call it comfortable.

The practice rink is as chaotic as expected by the time they arrive. All 15 competitors plus coaches and choreographers are there, most in the stands stretching and warming up, watching the first group run their programs on the ice. There’s a small group of reporters as well, snagging people when they can for quotes and comments. They scan the crowd for Bobby, finally see him waving from the spot he and Hen secured at the far end of the stands. They make their way across to them, smiling and waving at familiar faces as they go. It feels forced for Buck, at least — making nice despite the fact that they’re all secretly hoping everyone else will tear or bruise something bad enough that they’ll have to withdraw. Eddie, on the other hand, is genuinely warm to everyone, friendly slaps on backs and laughs at jokes that don’t have a hint of fakeness. He’s nice, even to people he has to know cheer a little bit every time he falls.

Buck resists the urge to roll his eyes, but just barely.

They finally make it to Bobby and Hen and start warming up. Buck takes real stock of the crowd now as he stretches his hamstrings, noting costumes, levels of panic he can see on faces, who’s skating to what music as it loops through the sound system. Overall, he feels good — at a smaller competition like this, he’s usually one of the strongest technically and artistically, and this time feels no different. 

Their group gets called to the ice, and they each have one more chance to run through their program. Buck has two quads planned for his three required jumps, and he lands both of them cleanly and fully rotated. It’s still ambitious, given his consistency — you never know what will happen in front of the judges — but as long as he stays out of his own way, out of his head, he’ll be just fine.

He hopes.

When their time is up, Buck packs his things up quickly, waving to Bobby, Hen, and Eddie as he hustles to the green room to drop off his stuff before heading to the main rink. The first group for the rhythm dance is just starting their warm-up as he finds May in the stands, sliding into the seat next to her. It’s not often that their segments are spread out enough that they can all watch each other compete, but Buck and May always take full advantage to cheer on Maddie and Chim and judge everybody else.

“Did I miss anything?” he asks.

She shakes her head, eyes on the ice. “The Polish team almost collided with one of the Canadian teams, but it looked like an accident.”

“I don’t know, those Canadians love to cut it close during warm-ups, they think it scares the other teams.” 

“They tried it at Worlds and got yelled at pretty bad, I don’t think they’d try it again so soon.” Buck whips his head over just as Eddie sits down on his other side, like he’s part of their little cheer squad too. 

“What are you doing here?” Buck asks, tone a little more accusatory than he wanted.

Eddie just shrugs. “I usually stand in the back and watch, but I saw you guys and figured I’d join,” he says, meeting Buck’s eye. “If that’s okay with you?”

May elbows Buck in the ribs as she turns to Eddie herself. “Of course it’s okay, as long as you tell me everything that went down with that team at Worlds.”

Eddie smiles as he launches into the story. It takes Buck’s brain a minute to catch up with Eddie being sociable and funny, not hiding in the green room and ignoring everyone like he always assumed he did. They all fall into an easy banter as the first team begins their program, and by the end of the first group, they’re having to stifle their laughter and commentary as the people around them shoot dirty looks their way. 

Their cheers are the loudest when Chim and Maddie are announced during the warm-up, and again when they start their program. Buck loves watching Maddie skate — she’s the reason he got into the sport in the first place, and the way she looks so graceful and effortless is something he never gets tired of seeing. Their tango is smoldering, easily covering the ice and drawing the audience in, and their group isn’t the only one giving a standing ovation at the end. They take first place by a good margin, Buck and Eddie letting out matching wolf whistles as their scores are announced. 

Buck never would have imagined being here, cheering on his sister with the guy he’s hated for longer than he can remember, but now that he is here, it’s...nice. Much nicer than he expected. He actually likes hearing Eddie’s opinions on lifts and spins, likes hearing him laugh at his jokes, likes the feeling of their arms brushing against each other in the cramped stadium seating…

Yeah. Nice. Weird and a complete upset of his world view up until the beginning of the week, but nice nonetheless.

~~~~~~~~~~

He may be sitting in the kiss and cry, but Buck still feels like he’s flying. He landed both quads, including his quad loop which is chronically underrotated, and nailed every step and spin. The audience was thunderous when he finished, and he almost wanted to cry because it really felt like the beginning —  the beginning of his redemption, the beginning of chiseling his name into the record books, the beginning of finally achieving everything he’d dreamed of.

He is, of course, miles and miles ahead of himself, but that doesn’t stop an ember of hope glowing brightly in his mind as he gets his score — first place, 20 points above second. Bobby squeezes his shoulders, shaking them in excitement, and he stands and waves to the crowd. They’re just making their way to the green room as Eddie’s name is announced, and rather than avoiding watching himself get knocked to second, he stops just outside the exit and turns back towards the ice.

He’s seen Eddie’s short a million times in practice — usually watching against his better judgement to see if he screws up — but watching it in full in a competition is a completely different experience. The opening notes to “Dust in the Wind” start playing, and Buck watches Eddie’s whole demeanor change, swears he sees his mind locking into all he has to accomplish in the next two minutes and 40 seconds. Pundits always describe his skating as “classic but refreshing”, and Buck is more than inclined to agree. Eddie possesses all the charm and grace of old school skaters, but manages to put his own spin on it, making it feel like something no one’s ever done before. Buck’s a little in awe, if he’s honest, and watching Eddie’s nearly perfect program this time doesn’t fill him with the usual annoyance or ill-placed rage, it makes him feel...something. He can’t quite put a name on it, but he knows it’s a good feeling.

He’s inclined to blame that on the high he’s still feeling from his own skate, but part of him also knows that that’s not the case.

Eddie does knock him into second, but only by five points. There’s a pang of bitterness, but it’s dull, because five points is nothing. Five points is one perfect jump, one spin combo, one seamless step sequence. It’s not insurmountable. And even if the gap were bigger, Buck would be hard pressed to find any flaws in Eddie’s program anyway.

The pundits don’t lie. He’s incredible. And maybe Buck is starting to appreciate it.

The rest of the day passes in snapshots: pressers, watching May win gold in the ladies’ event, dinner with the team that was overflowing with excitement tinged with nerves about free skates the next day. He’s asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, distinctly not thinking about how he and Eddie sat shoulder to knee at dinner, or how Eddie’s eyes glowed almost golden in the low lighting of the restaurant, or how crushed he might be if he doesn’t win tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buck’s skating last, which means he’s going to be nauseous for the next two hours while he watches everyone else go. He considers just putting his headphones on and ignoring everything, going in blind to the scores, but he can’t. He has to know where he stands, his margin for error, how much perfection is needed.

He alternates between watching the first group on the TVs in the green room and going through every possible scenario of him screwing up and how he’ll fix it mid skate. Eventually, he’s just picturing himself falling on every jump, over and over, placing last and going home a loser before the season even officially starts.

He’s not sure if it’s doing more harm than good, preparing him for success or failure, but they’re announcing the second warm up group, so it looks like he’s about to find out.

Eddie goes right before him, because the universe really wanted to test the strength of his stomach, apparently. Buck always loves “Hallelujah” programs, but Eddie’s is, of course, on a completely different level. He puts every emotion — the anguish, the uncertainty, the faint hope — into his movements, and it pulls at Buck’s heart so hard he’s afraid a blood vessel will snap. He’s so enthralled that he almost doesn’t notice that Eddie was supposed to do a quad toe on his last jumping pass.

But he doesn’t. 

He triples it, losing him five base points.

Buck feels bad (which is...new), but he also feels a surge of hope buzzing in every bone.

Does that make him a bad person?

He doesn’t have time to process that as Eddie’s scores are announced and he moves into first place. He stands and waves at the crowd from the kiss and cry, smiling widely and looking genuinely pleased. Maybe he didn’t know he messed up? Maybe he’s still in blissful ignorance, will stay that way until he looks at his protocols? That’s the only thing that makes sense to Buck — he’s aware of every mistake as soon as it happens, and even minor ones send him right off the rails, no amount of points able to bring him back for days.

There’s a hand on his shoulder, squeezing as it passes. He meets Eddie’s eyes, and that genuine smile is still there, directed him now.

“Good luck out there,” Eddie says, and Buck blames the flutter in his heart and flush on his cheeks purely on adrenaline and nerves.

The audience cheers as he skates to center ice, and he sees Maddie and Chim, still wearing their silver medals, near the top of the stands. He takes a deep breath as he stands in his opening pose, letting the crowd, the noise, the worry, everything wash away. This is all that matters, these next four minutes that could define the rest of his season, the rest of his path to the Olympic podium. Maybe it’s too much pressure for a preseason competition, but Buck’s been fighting for it, clawing his way through for the past four years, and a strong start is exactly what he needs to convince himself and every other coach, analyst, and skater, that he is here to win.

The music starts, and everything just clicks, like the notes are flowing through him while he moves, carrying him along. Every jump is clean and balanced, every spin is fast and poised. The music itself is about birds, flying through and away as quickly as they came, and that’s exactly how Buck feels. Like if he jumps high enough, he’ll float away like he does in his dreams, but this time, it’s not scary. There’s no jolts to his brain while he jumps, pulling him carelessly to the ground, and he takes every one with a bit of gratitude, knowing how easily he could second guess himself and make it all come crashing down around him, figuratively and literally. But there’s none of that today, just confidence and precision and joy that he only ever gets at moments like these. He still feels like he’s flying as he stops in his final pose, audience on their feet around him.

If he could, he’d bottle this sound and take it with him everywhere, have it follow him through Grand Prix, through Nats, all the way to Beijing. If this is the way the season is starting, he feels like he can’t go anywhere but up.

Or anywhere but down, a terrible voice whispers. Luckily, it’s drowned out with the crowd before it burrows too deep.

Bobby is all smiles when he comes off the ice, hugging him and slapping his back as they sit in the kiss and cry. He’s just catching his breath as they announce his score — first place, 9.5 points above Eddie. He wishes the gap had been a little bigger, but he’ll take what he can get. He waves at the crowd as they roar again, but he doesn’t have long to bask in it all before he’s whisked away for the medal ceremony.

It’s short, thankfully — no fanfare, just the president of Skate Canada and an ISU official handing out the flowers and medals. Buck skates out as his name is announced, taking his place on the highest podium between the bronze medalist from Japan and Eddie. Eddie beams at him, that same blindingly earnest smile, and Buck can’t help but smile back.

He gets a little misty when they play the national anthem. It’s not so much the song itself, but the accomplishment it represents, the fact that his blood, sweat, and tears were all for something. 

Eddie falls in step with him as they make their way to the presser, shoulders brushing in that casual way they’ve made a habit this past week. Buck doesn’t know if they’re friends just yet, isn’t sure if a week is long enough to shed a decade of bad feelings, but he does know that there’s something about Eddie that keeps drawing him in, makes him want to dig past the annoyingly perfect exterior and figure out what’s going on inside. Is he always this positive and friendly? What makes him snap? He’s spent years trying to think as little about Eddie as possible, but it’s been harder and harder to do, and Buck doesn’t really want to fight it anymore. It was taking up too much energy, and he has bigger things to worry about.

“Congrats, man, you looked great out there,” Eddie says, squeezing his shoulder again. This time, Buck squeezes back.

“Thanks, so did you. Your triple axel was so perfect it literally looked computer generated.” Eddie laughs, sharp and bright, and something in Buck wants to keep hearing that sound as often as he can.

There aren’t many reporters, but they ask all the same questions — how did they feel about their performance, what are they looking to improve, how do they feel about the other competitors, blah blah blah. As they’re given the two minute warning, the last reporter stands, pointing her microphone towards Buck.

“Evan, you really started this season with a bang. Do you think you’ll be able to keep coming out on top?”

Yes, he thinks automatically. I can and I will.

Maybe, says the whisper again, or maybe you won’t.

“Anything could happen,” he says, a phrase he has a feeling he’ll be repeating again and again, “but I’ll keep fighting no matter what.”

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #buddie fic #911 fic #9-1-1 #in which buck continues to not know how to read his own feelings #ficcery

[the-bees-knives]

Hi yes hello. I saw that you rebloged the oc ask thingy and I'll be ordering for the whole table. Can I get a 2, 3 ,5, 7, 9, 10, 12, 13, 16, 17, 19, 20, 21, 32, 34, 37, 41, 45, 48, 50, 51, 55, 60, 65, 68, 69, 70, 73, 78, 83, 87, 89, 93, 96, 98, and 99? All for Biscuit. (IM REALLY REALLY SORRY I JUST WANNA KNOW MORE ABOUT THEM 😭)

This got real long... answers under the cut!

2. What are their favourite possessions? Why? (sentimentality, history, price, etc.)

His favourite possession... is you! ✋👁👁

Jokes aside, Biscuit isn't too materialistic. However, he does like the hairband he uses for his braid; it was a gift from his mother! The bow he wears around his neck is also a remnant of a modification of his uniform from his previous place of work. Biscuit used to work both as a mascot and a cook (it would switch depending on the situation) at his family's diner (restaurant? i don't know the term), and he added it because he thought it looked cute (also he couldn't do anything too feminine :( so this was the best he could do).

I will note that the cutlery embedded into him is not a part of his favourite possessions, despite his unwillingness to part with them. They're more like a part of his body, I guess?

3. Do They get jealous easily? If so, what usually causes it?

If Biscuit formed an attachment to someone and then saw them with someone else, he'd be wary of the new person, if not jealous. They'd have to become acquainted with Biscuit to ease him, though that might not always work. He'd still probably try to drag his companion away. Basically, he's pretty protective (possessive?) over those he likes.

5. What's their reputation like? Does this reputation contrast what they're really like?

I'm not sure how others would see him. Either it's "eccentric cosplayer (who's really in character)" or "weird dude". Probably the first one, as normal people couldn't survive with knives in their body for that long. Mostly Biscuit's just a weird dude though.

7. What's their "type"? What romantically attracts them to another person?

Biscuit doesn't really have a preference on appearance, it's more based on personality. Either it's someone who can care for him or someone who's just as feral/zero-braincell'd as him. He normally takes care of his victims, but he doesn't see that as attraction; it's more like caring for cattle before you eat it. If someone cared for him though, he'd be into it. As for the other one, it's just a feral power couple; both can be absolutely insane together (Run).

9. If they could change one part of their appearance, what would it be?

Spine that can turn 180 degrees. Reasoning: he has to sleep on his stomach because of the knives, but then his feet are bent uncomfy while on his stomach. Rotate spine for comfy feets. Plus, it'd be a cool party trick.

10. What's a simple thing that brings them joy?

Pets/physical affection. (Unfortunately, by unintentional design, this man is Unpettable.)

12. What's their position in their friend group? (leader, mom friend, chaos goblin, etc.)

The chill goblin: you can sit with him and have a nice hat, but if anything gets the interest of his one (1) braincell, he will go absolutely feral.

13. How forgiving are they? What do they consider unforgivable?

I think he's pretty forgiving, considering. If you attacked him, he'd probably consider it as play-fighting or something. He won't like it if you mess with his personal belongings, but he'll forgive you if it's for a good reason (for him) or if you give it back.

As for the things he'd find unforgivable, touching the two knives sticking out of his head is an absolute no-no. (The ones in his shoulders are sort of meh; he won't like it if you touch them, but he won't try to kill you for it.) The knives in his head are really sensitive, so he'll become agitated quick and snap if you try to move or remove them.

16. What food do they absolutely hate?

fish yucky >:(

17. Do they show a lot of affection, or are they pretty reserved?

If Biscuit had an s/o or a good friend (you know, people he's not interested in for food), he'd be pretty affectionate; he likes them and wants to show it! He might get a little close though, so make sure to set (and remind him of) personal boundaries.

19. What's their unusual quirk?

I don't know why, but I imagine that Biscuit can bleed infinitely. If you were to remove any of the knives embedded into him, the wound will just keep bleeding until they're inserted back in. I don't really have an explanation for this, but he is a human, so??? I just think it's neat.

20. Are they easy to wake up in the morning, or grouchy and sleepy?

While Biscuit does get up early, he's particularly lazy and groggy. It's kind of like those moods where you want to go back to sleep, but you can't because your body's awake.

21. What's their ideal date like?

Anywhere really, so long as his s/o is giving him attention.

32. What are they like at parties? Party animal, or awkwardly sitting in the corner drinking punch and reading?

Party animal, except everyone else is sitting in the corner trying to avoid him. He doesn’t really think before speaking, so he says whatever without any filter. (Plus, the knives don’t help. No, he won’t remove them.)

34. What’s their favourite drink? (Coffee, tea, juice, hot chocolate, soda, etc.)

Biscuit is a milkshake lad. His favourite is strawberry-banana!

37. Are they a hopeless romantic, or is that stuff just not for them?

Biscuit has a “love-at-first-interaction” mentality, like if someone shows genuine interest in him, then he wants to be with them and chases that feeling (and them).

41. What would they dress up as for Halloween?

Bold of you to assume that he’d even need a Halloween costume.

All jokes aside though, Biscuit has No Patience to put a costume together (or even look for one), so he’d probably just go with his normal wear. People have already mistaken the knives as cosplay/props anyway, so it’s just less work, instant results.

(He does have the old mascot suit, but he can’t wear it anymore without it hitting the knives.)

45. Are they always late, on time, or early?

None of the above, he forgot that event was today.

48. How dramatic are they?

Biscuit’s not the type to start drama, nor is he extremely emphatic (is that the word?) with his speech. He’s just kind of vibing.

50. Why would they be a good partner for a road trip?

Fun(?) to do activities with; will probably suggest random stuff to do if there’s no set itinerary (will probably suggest it anyway). If you’re looking for a spontaneous road trip, he’s your guy.

51. Why would they be a BAD partner for a road trip?

Will Never Sit Still; must be kept under watch constantly, otherwise he’ll run off to who knows where. (Just keep him on a leash or something)

55. Choose a vine you think perfectly encapsulates their character.

This video has pretty strong vibes of brainrot, so I think it's appropriate.

60. What sappy thing will they cry at? (romance movies, cute cat videos, etc.) Would they deny crying about it later on?

Biscuit loves all types of animals, especially furry ones (so dogs, cats, bats, rats… bean toes are a plus). So he’d absolutely cry if shown cute pet videos and gush about how precious and baby each one is. No denial either, if you confront him about it, he’d just justify it by gushing about them more. (He doesn’t have any pets of his own though. I wouldn’t trust him with a pet.)

As a side note, if he found out his victim was a beastkin or could turn into an animal or something, he’d be really conflicted on whether to harm them or not, but would ultimately decide against it.

65. Do they give people a lot of nicknames?

Biscuit isn’t creative enough to make genuine nicknames. However, if he forgot your name (and he probably would), he’d just name something off of your appearance (“pink jacket”, “shark guy”, things like that).

68. Are they easy to fluster? What would you have to do to truly fluster them?

Biscuit can only really be flustered by people he likes or people that he thinks are close to him. He’ll melt and nuzzle you if you surprise him with something nice, physical or otherwise :)

69. What’s their dream vacation like?

Go to the countryside and run around and be feral. Then chill in the evening and take a bath, because he needs to make sure his knives are clean.

70. Are they a good liar?

Biscuit doesn’t even try to lie. He’s really impulsive, and he doesn’t see what’s wrong with what he does. If he tried to lie, it’d be stupid/simple and obvious that it’s a lie, but he’d stick to his guns and insist that it’s true. Though, his voice/expression wouldn’t fluctuate, so you’d have to believe either in common sense or him.

73. Are they more book smarts, or street smarts?

Street smarts; this man’s head is empty (except for the two knives in there but).

78. What’s something they’re really bad at?

Almost anything that involves careful planning and concentration to complete. Things like puzzles or sewing; if it doesn’t give immediate satisfaction, then what’s the point?

The only things that Biscuit does pay attention to are cooking and, by extent, caring for his victim (as they’re a part of the cooking process).

83. What are they like as an s/o?

Loyal and (possibly) clingy. Will want to accompany you for days, then vanish out of thin air due to impulsiveness (will absolutely forget to feed his victim during this time, if he has one). Forgets about physical boundaries, but means well (trying to show affection).

Biscuit’s love languages are, in no particular order: physical touch, acts of service, and quality time. Personal hug-buddy that can cook :)

87. Do they like spicy food?

Yes he does! I like to imagine that he incorporates spice from time to time into his dishes. I don’t know what his tolerance would be though due to lack of experience (I will perish).

89. What would they get into a petty argument over?

Which animal is the best? Answer: it’s all of them. (Though he does have a preference towards furry animals, he tries to be unbiased in this argument.)

93. What type of movies do they like to watch?

Both gorey horror movies and feel-good movies (especially if they have animal protagonists). They’re just fun to watch.

96. What’s their sense of humour like? (Dad jokes, morbid humour, basic knock-knock jokes, stand-up comedy, etc.)

Physical humour, stand-up, and maybe surreal humour. Anything else might be too complex for him.

98. How competitive are they?

He’s not very competitive on his own, though if someone challenges him to a contest, he’s still going to try to beat them for the satisfaction of it. Don’t challenge him to a contest if you want to have chill times with him.

99. What would they wear to a formal event? Describe their outfit!

Biscuit has No Standards when it comes to social events, so he’s going as normal. If he had to dress fancy though (and if he had access to it), he’d probably just wear a simple pink dress shirt and dress pants + suspenders. Slick his hair back too. The knives stay.

(I don’t even think he can enter most shops with the knives, fake or not. I don’t know; I’ve never entered an establishment with visible knives before.)

This was a long post, so let me know if I missed anything;;

#i spent Too Much Time thinking about these answers #also sorry for the late reply; i kept getting distracted;; #is this man just a dog? maybe #biscuit oc #my oc #emi-bunni #ask #oc questions meme

[candlelight27]

Chapter 3: I Chase Your Shadow

Summary: Sylvain has been ignoring you since you met him. You had been in love with him since you met him. College is about to offer you a fresh start. New academic year, new life. You were ready to forget him. But fate seems to have other plans… (COLLEGE AU)

Series: Seeking Your Warmth If Only For A Day

Warnings: ATTEMPTED ASSAULT (!!!), Alcohol drinking, swear words, kissing

Pairings: Sylvain Jose Gautier x Female Reader

Word Count: 4907

AO3: I Chase Your Shadow

A/N:  I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks for reading and sticking by. And, as always, leave a comment if you have any suggestion, request, question or just feel like it! My asks are always open, too!

Sylvain 18:35: What are you wearing? 😉

Sylvain 18:36: Just kidding hahaha

Sylvain 18:36: Although I want to know what’s your costume

You held back a laugh reading Sylvain’s messages. He was truly something else.

You 18:37: Top secret

“Is he texting you again?”, Dorothea asked, mascara in hand. You couldn’t see her expression, but you certainly knew the corners of her lips were curling upwards.

“So what?”, you answered feigning weariness.

Your brunette friend was applying the finishing touches to her makeup in front of your bathroom mirror. There were cases, brushes, pencils, shadows and liners everywhere, all varying shades of red and nude. The living room was in the same situation because Mercedes and Annette had insisted on helping Ingrid get her Halloween costume ready. Ingrid complained, of course, since ‘knights didn’t wear make-up’, but who could ever deny Mercedes? Not you, and not Ingrid either.

You were sitting upon the lid of the toilet, observing Dorothea’s carful movements. You weren’t going all out like she did. You had a black dress that you liked and cheap fake blood you found on a trip to the supermarket – this hectic year you had no time to prepare.

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just…” She turned around, her emerald irises glistening. “You are totally at his mercy.”

“I’m not”, you furrowed your eyebrows.

“I thought I taught you well. But I guess that’s what happens when your first love strikes you…” She took the brightest shadow of red lipstick she could find in her purse and began applying it.

“That’s totally wrong!”, you protested, putting your phone a way to prove your point.

However, Dorothea was painfully right, as always. You had developed a soft spot for a certain redhead. In fact, you’d dare to say you hadn’t felt anything this intense for him before.

Had it been any other person, it wouldn’t be a problem. But it was Sylvain. The root of all evil. You didn’t trust him at all. Wasn’t it very suspicious that he all of a sudden was paying you attention? He might just want to hook up a couple of times and then disappear, because he had just ended his available catalogue of other women. Was he really like that? You’ve certainly seen him act like that. You’d better stay away from him. But what you felt around him had you addicted.

“So now you are telling me that if tonight he gets you cornered in a room at Hilda’s…” Dorothea lowered her voice, a husky whisper, to avoid the other girls from hearing her. “If he presses his – rather hot, not going to lie here – body against you and leans in all bothered… and then kisses you… you are going to say no. And then remain friends.”

“Yes!”, you lied with all the dignity you could muster.

“I don’t believe you!”, she shouted. In between laughs you threw at her a roll of toilet paper that moved her fake horns. “Stop! Don’t ruin my look, I’m almost finished.”

Dorothea faced you and fixed her cleavage. She was wearing a tight-fitting red dress made out of a velvet-like material, along with headband topped with red horns and a fake tail. The only thing she was missing was a trident.

“You make a good demon”, you commented, tilting your head.

“I’m a succubus. It’s not the same”, she pointed out.

“Of course.”

“Wait, what are you going to wear?”, she stepped closer to you. She inspected you from top to the bottom.

“This”, you stood up and gestured your own black dress with both hands.

“What?” She crossed her arms. “You need a costume!”

“I’m going to put on some fake blood too”, you answered. “I didn’t have time to prepare something else.”

“I’m already seeing the disappointment in Sylvain’s eyes.” She shook her head and tried to reach the doorknob. Then it hit you that you had been meaning to tell her something entirely different.

“Wait, Dorothea.”

“Yes?”, she seemed confused.

“I’ve been having nightmares lately. A lot of them.”

“About what?” Her tone was serious.

“It’s kind of weird.” You scratched your head. It was hard to put together all the scenes that appeared out of thin air at night. “The atmosphere is… like those movies Ingrid watches. But the characters are us. And there’s a war going on. There’s blood, death… I see everyone dying. And I dream that… someone with a speak goes right through my chest and I wake up with this unsettling pain where it hit.” You pointed the exact area.

“That’s worrying… Maybe you’ll have to see Manuela in the clinic.” She looked in deep thought. “Could it be the pressure from university?”

“Perhaps…”

You both went out of the bathroom to meet the other girls. Dorothea was watching you with the corner of her eye, and you feared that you might have worried her over nothing.  

“Dorothea, you are breathtaking!”, said Mercedes as she saw her.

“Thank you”, the brunette smiled. “You are not so bad yourself as a …nun?”

“I love this costume! It always scares all the kids”, she laughed. And you wouldn’t have expected less of the queen of ghost stories.

The sight of her was unsettling. There was dark paint all over under her eyes and her lips that formed a stark contrast with the white base underneath. On the other hand, Ingrid was dressed as a knight, as she did every year. No surprises there. She looked ready to go jousting in any moment. Annette was dressed in a black outfit, completed by car ears and whiskers.

“I love Halloween!”, Mercedes exclaimed. “It’s my favourite holiday. Should we try an Ouija board session?”

“No way”, said Annette with wide eyes.

“I’ll pass too”, added Dorothea.

“What a shame. I’m going to get a glass of water,” Mercedes announced. She then said your name. “Care to join me?”

“Sure.”

You could hear the muffled sound of the conversation in the living room from the kitchen. Your hand reached for a glass in the cabinet. You filled it with water and offered it to Mercedes. She politely muttered a thank you, and drunk it slowly, not taking her eyes off you.

“I wanted to talk to you about something”, she paused, prudent as always, waiting for your response.

“What about?” You leant against the counter.

“It’s about Sylvain.”

The fact was not unforeseen at all. However, the fact that it was Mercedes carrying the message was unusual. You hadn’t seen her step in anyone’s affairs, so it must be serious. You gulped.

“I’m all ears.”

“I’m not going to beat around the bush. He hates women.” You remained silent, waiting for her explanation. “I’m her friend, and I’ve been for a long time. And I’ve had a lot of conversations with him… When a woman shows any interest in him, he thinks they’re after his family’s fortune, that they just want to brag of their relationship.”

“And what should I do with that information?” You said sceptically. You already knew all of that – you weren’t blind – but you didn’t see where she was going.

“I think you should be aware in case you are pursuing a romantic relationship with him.” She breathed in deeply. “I’m not saying he’s a bad person – I don’t think he is –, but he isn’t precisely nice when it comes to his girlfriends. Apparently he hasn’t always been like this… There were a few girls who took advantage of him, confirmed his fears, and now he feels entitled to use people as he wants. He can be the worst. And I’m afraid your feelings are pretty serious.”

“I’m not-”

“I don’t want him to break your heart. Even if you are made for each other, even if he seems completely in love with you, be careful. Anything can happen, because people who have been hurt often hurt others too.” She diverted her gaze.

“Are you telling me that I should just forget him?”

“I can’t tell you what to do, I just can give you my point of view. I don’t think he’s incapable of love… When he talks about you, he’s all happy and true. I’d never seen him like that. But I’ve also seen so many girls that tried to change him and failed…”  

“That’s… hard to process,” you replied as you let out a nervous giggle. “But I think I can’t just move on.”

“Whatever you do, I’ll be here, okay?” Mercedes touched your shoulder lightly. “Let’s head back.”

 The sky was dark and the moon was full. Your group walked down the main street to go to Hilda’s home, which was the closest to the campus. Her parents weren’t home, so she and Holst thought it would be a great idea to throw a party. None complained. Almost everyone you knew in high school was invited.

You weren’t exactly nervous. But Sylvain was going to be there and, even though there was some excitement within you, your mind was too busy second-guessing yourself and arousing doubt.

“What did Mercedes say?”, Dorothea whispered when the other three girls were distracted. She was always on the lookout for some gossip, just like Claude.

“She just wanted to warn me about the fact that Sylvain hates women,” you rolled your eyes.

“Well, it’s not untrue.” She smiled. “I’m sure she had good intentions.”

“I know, Dorothea. But it only makes me feel worse hearing it from the only person who had ever defended him.”

“Did it change anything though?” She placed her hand on your back Sympathetically.

“That’s the problem, it didn’t.”

“My poor baby.” She caressed your arm. “You look tired.”

“It must be the nightmares”, you concluded. “I couldn’t sleep that much yesterday.”

“Have fun today, will you? Everything will turn out fun if you do what your heart tells you.”

“That’s unexpectedly non-cynical coming from you”, you remarked, a smirk forming.

“Shush. You love me.” You hummed in agreement.

“Dorothea?”, Annette called her, turning around to locate her. “Where is Petra?”

“I still haven’t met her!”, exclaimed Ingrid.

“She must be already there! She went with Edelgard and Hubert,” answered Dorothea. “At first I wanted her to spend more time with other people but now I’m starting to miss the first few weeks when we were always together!”

As you arrived, Hilda opened the door. Her long, pink hair was tied back in a pony tail. She wore a white, lacy dress, and despite the beautiful eyeliner, she was kind of blue and had scars drawn all over her. You guessed she was a zombie bride. She had that sweet and satisfied smile of hers and a beer can on one of her delicate hands.

“Welcome, welcome! Come in! There’s a lot of people who will come later but we’ve already started. Ah, Petra’s waiting for you, Dorothea,” she said as she let you in the house.

“I’ll find her,” she said as she disappeared into the luxurious house. “Thanks!”

Mercedes, Anette and Ingrid entered too. Hilda was waiting for you, the last on line, on the doorframe. She winked at you.

“And you… Sylvain is coming in half an hour…”, she coyly remarked. “He’s coming with Felix, Dimitri and their brothers.”

“And that’s important because…?”, you played dumb.

“Not my business. Claude said that I should let you know”, she smirked. “Come in, let’s have a drink.”

 Hilda hadn’t lied. The music was roaring, and all the rooms were filled with people occupying themselves in the entailments of a party. Right after you greeted everyone, when you were the tiniest bit tipsy, you saw Sylvain arrive, along with Dimitri and Felix. He commented something to his brother, Miklan, who went away with Glenn, leaving the trio alone. Sylvain’s brother looked angry and aggressive – the opposite of the atmosphere of the place, and you had a bad feeling about him. He was known for causing trouble, but you hoped Glenn and Holst could keep him at bay.

Felix and Dimitri weren’t wearing anything remarkable. Dimitri, a white shirt on his torso and a plastic sword on hand, took advantage of his eyepatch to look like a pirate, while Felix had a scary-looking mask on. Quite the opposite was their redhead friend. He was wearing a cliché vampire costume, cloak and fangs included. His white shirt was unbuttoned halfway. It was totally in character for Sylvain.

“Admiring the prey?”, Claude’s voice resonated on you back, startling you.

“Claude, are you a furry?”, you laughed as you saw him.

“I’m the big bad wolf!”, he deadpanned. “You forgot to say hi to your sweetheart, by the way.” He whispered, then yelled. “Hey, Sylvain!”

“Claude!” Sylvain waved him. However, when his eyes met your form, he turned serious. He acknowledged you with a nod. You wanted to approach him, but you were unsettled.

Right before you could do anything else, the Almyran grabbed your arm and muttered a ‘let’s go’. Both of you disappeared into a corridor filled with portraits of Hilda’s family members that led to the kitchen. Right before going into your destination, you stopped.

“What are you doing?”, you asked.

“We’re going to play never have I ever with Hilda in the kitchen”, he smiled.

“What’s with all the rush? She’s not going anywhere, it’s her house.” You withdrew from him. “Besides, I thought you wanted me to greet Sylvain.”

“We’re setting the trap, don’t worry,” he winked. “Sylvain’s going to fall onto your arms tonight.”

“No, no, no”, you stated. Mercedes’ words resonated in your head, which further entangled all your thoughts about anything related to Sylvain. “No romance today. It’s a bad idea,” you said unconvinced.

“I think you are not telling everything to me, but it’s happening. I have a sixth sense for that.” You grimaced. “Don’t believe me? Then let’s bet! If by 2 a.m. you have kissed him, you’ll give me your dessert for three weeks.”

“And if I win?” It seemed easy, right? Just stay away from Sylvain all night, and there wouldn’t be any trouble.

“I’ll take you on a date”, he affirmed without hesitation. It shocked you that he wanted a date.

“It seems like a win-win for you.”

“I’ll also give you my dessert, okay?” he sighed.

“Seems fair, I guess.” You shrugged.

“Are you sure about that?” He smiled mysteriously, went into the kitchen and, being the natural at social gatherings he was, took a shot glass and filled it to the brim.

There were a lot of Hilda and Claude’s classmates partaking in the game, while your other friends were scattered throughout the multiple rooms. Holst, dressed as the zombie groom to his little sister, popped in from time to time to either get more booze or control the situation.

The hours passed by and you lost track of all the people you were interacting with, but everyone seemed very cheerful. There were a lot of sweets – it was Halloween after all – and pizza. You remembered that at some point you shared a conversation with Petra after those booze games, and she talked a lot about Brigid and how she missed it.

Another highlight was when you heard a ruckus about someone trying to contact spirits with a makeshift Ouija. You suspected it was Mercedes trying to scare anyone. And Hilda held a costume contest where the only judge was herself and the main price was helping her with her homework. Many people participated. There were films playing in the living room and techno music coming from upstairs. Petra and Dorothea were stuck together all the time, which was a little weird for you since your brunette friend used parties as a way to find a good catch. All in all, everyone seemed to be having fun.

Perched in the safety of a sofa with Claude and Dimitri – who, by the way, didn’t dare to speak with you out of shyness -, you were having a marathon of the worst gore-horror-sci-fi movies you could find. As time passed, you observed there were couples sneaking away, going to Sothis-know-where, and some of them came back dishevelled, others simply vanished.

You watched the clock. 1:56 a.m. No sight of Sylvain. You wanted with all your heart to look for him and talk because you hadn’t interacted with him yet. Maybe there was no harm in that. Claude had been following you like a lost puppy all night, so it had been easy to ignore the urge, but now… The youngest of the Gautier brothers had been talking to older girls, passing right next to where you were. You almost dared to say he was trying to make you jealous.

You stood up and went to another lounge where there was music. Incredibly, Felix was dancing with Anette. You guessed Sylvain could be there.

But then you stopped in your tracks. You spotted your prince charming. He was with a blonde girl who caressed his cheek with her fingers. He whispered something in her ear, she took his hand and led him outside.

Your heart flopped. That was it, wasn’t it? Game over.

Dorothea came out of the room and bumped into you.

“Did you know I haven’t seen Ingrid in like an hour? I think she left with Ashe and-”. She cut her sentence. “Are you okay?”, asked Dorothea, focusing her attention on you. Petra was behind her.

“Yes, why?”

“You look like you are about to cry,” the girl from Brigid said.

“I feel like I’m going to throw up,” you lied. “I’m going to the bathroom. Be back in a minute.”

“May I go with you?”, Claude, who had followed you, intervened.

“No, I’m fine”, you lied again. You were tired of lying. “Don’t worry.”

You went away and tried to navigate to the bathroom. Maybe you could spill some tears or at least splash some water on your face. You traversed the enormity of Hilda’s home, your mind a bit cloudy with the drink and the disappointment, yet overall you were sobered up. Keeping it together in a crowded place was a real challenge, more when you had to smile to the people you knew as you passed them by, but you managed just fine.

You bumped into some shoulders, did what you could to reach the white door at the what seemed the most remote corner of the hall.  

Once in the bathroom, you looked at yourself in the mirror.

What were you going to do? You were ready to go home. Or you could take what Dorothea once said literally and ask Claude to sneak away with you. Yet, you scratched that possibility right away. It wouldn’t be fair for any of you. If you just could have gotten into your head what Mercedes said and sticked to your original plan, you’d be fine, having the time of your life with your friends. Instead, your doomed heart yearned for him in a way you couldn’t undo.

There was a black hole in your stomach. It seemed that your desperation grew the further he was from you.

Why were you surprised? It was inevitable that it happened. Everyone said so, everyone thought so. Were you for real harbouring the empty hope that he would choose you? Or that he even wanted you? He was just being nice. It seemed clearer now.

As you sunk in your despair and confusion, the door of the bathroom opened.

“It’s occupied!”, you exclaimed. Still, the figured entered without any care and closed the door with a loud hit.

“You were taking too long.”

That rough voice… You turned around. It was Miklan. He wasn’t wearing any costume, and had the same expression than before. His eyes were cold, his stare calculated. His presence was eerie, turning on all your alarms.

“Miklan, get out.” You were still, as if treating a wild animal. “I need to use the toilet.”

“You know me?” He said very pleased with himself.

“We were in the same high-school,” you reminded him

“I see.” He smiled, and you got goosebumps. “I’ve observed you all night.”

“Why?”

“My bother hasn’t got his eyes off you. So, I took an interest in you.”

“If you haven’t notice, he’s gone away somewhere with a busty girl,” you passed him, trying to get out of there. “So, it’s quite useless to play now the dutiful older brother or-”

“You could have some fun with me instead.” He grabbed your arm. So that’s what he wanted. “I’m not an asshole like him.”

“You are acting like one right now.” You tried to force your arm free, but it was useless. “Let me go.”

“Why Sylvain and not me?”, he grunted. His breathing was becoming heavier as his irritation grew. “If it was him and not me, you’d gladly fuck me here.”

Suddenly, you remembered your last nightmare. It was about Miklan. He had turned into some kind of black monster before your eyes. It had horrified you, and everyone who was around you. Sylvain was next to you during that dream, trembling, as his brother’s features were consumed by darkness. The dream had felt so real. You woke up in panic, cold sweat, breathing with difficulty.

“Go away, Miklan”, you said with anger. He leant in.

“Or what?”

Then, out of instinct, you punched him in the face as hard as you could. As he covered his scarred nose, which was then bleeding, you run away from the bathroom.

“Bitch!”, he yelled.

You run a few meters before crashing into a solid body. He was talking to you, but you were focused on escaping. You assumed he was your Almyran shadow for the night.

“Claude, let’s go. Now.”

“Claude?” Oh shit. It was Sylvain’s voice. You turned around to see his confused features. Why did he look so sad for no apparent reason?

“Sylvain?”. You were disconcerted. Wasn’t he gone?

Thereupon, his brother appeared around the corner. He had blood smeared on his face and he was red with anger. You had done a good number on him. You felt safer, because you were surrounded by people.

“Go away, Sylvain. I’ve got some unfinished business with that whore”, he said as he came closer to both of you, slow like a predator. Sylvain pushed you behind him, but you could see the gleam of fear in his eyes. Miklan terrified him.

“Fuck you,” you retorted to Miklan.

“I swear if you did something, I’ll-” Began Sylvain, but thankfully he didn’t have to finish.

“Time to go away, buddy.”

You had never been gladder to see Glenn, the only human who had been able to control Miklan – or so it was said. Behind him, Holst and Balthus, a school drop-out you had only heard about, stood like two bodyguards.

Still, the older Gautier considering fighting them. You could almost hear his thoughts. But, in the last moment, he relaxed.

“Goodbye, losers”, he huffed, then made a beeline for the exit. “Not like I’m going to see any of you fuckers ever again.”

“Are you okay?”, Holst asked you, worried. “You have a red mark on your wrist. And your knuckles have blood.”

“I’m fine. It’s his.” You were so relieved.

“That was a really good punch! A piece of art on his face,” told you Balthus with pride. He seemed like a good guy, but way too violent for your taste. “Take that as a compliment from the King of Grappling!” You nodded politely.

“He’s going to a military school tomorrow. We thought he’d do the least harm if he felt…included. Not the case. If you need anything…” Glenn explained with a serious tone.

“It’s fine, really.”

“Can I speak to you in private?”, Sylvain got into the conversation.

“I’m fucking done with the Gautier brothers today, thank you.” You escaped from the men to look for the backyard to get some fresh air. Yet Sylvain, not giving up, chased you.

“I’m sorry”, he said. He was suffering too, but you chose to ignore that. “Really. Miklan just tries to take everything from me, so he must have thought-”

“That I was your girlfriend? That’s ridiculous.” You didn’t stop, your aim right in front of you. You didn’t see that his lips formed a straight line as soon as the words left your mouth.

“The thing is, he wanted to hurt you in order to hurt me.”

“That’s unfortunate then! Had he known you were out there fucking anyone that crossed your way, he would have left me alone!” You felt the cold breeze when you stepped out of the building. “I don’t understand why he didn’t bother any of your flings!”

“For your information, I wasn’t fucking anyone.” Sylvain closed the doors behind him. You moved to face him, since he didn’t seem to be going away any soon, so you’d better get everything out of your chest. It might do the job and reconcile your emotions.

“I don’t need to know, Sylvain. It’s your life, enjoy it as you want.” There was poison in your voice, but you couldn’t contain the raw emotions that controlled you.

“I want you to know! She was shitfaced and wouldn’t separate from me, so I called her a taxi.” He crossed his arms. “Why are you acting like that anyways? You and Claude seemed to be having too much fun to notice anything I did.”

“What are you talking about?”, you replied with indignation.

“All those touches and laughing. He does the same in class and you let him do whatever he wants. And then you come and text me as if you were interested in me! Do you kiss him when you’re alone?” He was approaching you, seeking the confrontation. You didn’t yield.

“You’ve lost it Sylvain.” You were so close, you were almost touching. Your faces were mere inches from each other. “I’m not the one who uses people as he wants and then leave them! Why are you so jealous? I’m just another girl in the count, you can easily replace me!”

“You have no idea what you are talking about!”, he shouted.

“Then explain it! Is it that fucking difficult?”

“It is! I’m trying to tell you, but you won’t listen! I could never replace you!”

At last, you surrendered to your heart.

You moved towards him and kissed him. It was like a weight lifted from your body. His lips were soft and warm, a hearth during winter. You clung onto his cheap costume, for you wanted to feel his warmth as close as you could.

It took him a few seconds to get back to his senses, but when he did, he turned the kiss into a fierce one, tainted with desperation. He placed one of his hands against the back of your neck, the other around your waist. You were perfectly anchored to him. His touch was exquisite, soft, as if you were a porcelain doll. You opened your mouth, caressed his with your tongue. You decided he was your favourite flavour, and that you’d never get tired of kissing him. He was experienced, determined, and knew what to do to turn you on beyond limit.

He lifted your body and pressed you against the wall. You wrapped your legs around his waist. He muttered a blasphemy. The next thing you felt, was his tongue back in your mouth. He was desperate to try your taste, to satiate the hunger that had been consuming him. You moved your hips, just in the slightest manner, because nothing he did was enough.

“We should stop,” he said, your taste lingering on his lips.

“Why?”

“We’re drunk. We were arguing.” You giggled. He wished he could hear that sound every day of his life. You disentangled your members from him and placed your feet on the floor, although he didn’t let go your waist.

“Don’t mess with me anymore Sylvain. Be clear. Don’t lie to me,” you pleaded.

“Okay.” He closed his eyes. “I tried to have sex with that girl before.”

“Oh”

“I was jealous of Claude. But I swear I didn’t do anything in the end.” His light brown eyes opened and gazed you sincerely.  “I called a taxi for her, I didn’t lie.”

“What happened?” You asked softly.

“I was thinking about you. As I was crossing the door, I regretted everything and… Well, I put her in the car and went in again.” He sighed. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“You got me right here and now,” you reminded him.

“I don’t want to spoil this like I almost did.”

“You won’t spoil anything if you tell me the truth.” You sounded calm, but you were a wreck on the inside. “I can stand it if it’s just a one-night stand. Just… don’t lie to me. Tell me what I am to you.”

“Please, believe in me. Please.” You could hear now how he slurred his syllables. He was right, neither of you were in the best condition to do anything.

“Why do you think I will?”

“Because you’re here with me right now. No one else has ever believed in me. Not even myself.” You caressed his cheek.

“Sylvain…”

“I promise you I will explain everything tomorrow. My intentions, my behaviour… I’m just asking that you believe all that I say and don’t give up on me.” He stared at you, waiting patiently for your answer.

“Okay, Sylvain. I promise.”

#Sylvain x reader #sylvain jose gautier x reader #Fire Emblem Three Houses #fe3h fanfiction #fe3h fanfic #female reader #fire emblem three houses fanfiction #sylvain jose gautier

[fatesdeepdive]

Entry 11: Archduke Silly Bot

I built a new Mess Hall and Accessory Shop, but before I could play with them, my castle was attacked! By spooky ghost men from the Astral Plane I mean, I summoned them, but still, the castle is in danger. Fifteen enemies showed up to try and seize the fort. Lilith was supposed to help me fight, but just stayed in her pond and did nothing. Dumb fish.

The invaders were tough, but focused more on smashing stuff than killing my Units. Unfortunately, there was a casualty. Kenshi, our valiant POW who we force to serve as cannon fodder, was slain in battle. I mean, not really, because I’m playing Casual mode. Still, I renamed the castle Fort Kenshi in his honor.

The invasion gave me the points needed to build two new structures: the Rod Shop and the Smithy. The Mess Hall can be used to slightly boost unit stats for one battle. The Rod Shop can be used to buy various consumable items. Smithy can be used to reforge Weapons; for instance, I gave Kenshi a new bronze club called Kenshi’s Whacker. The Accessory shop can be used to buy and equip fun accessories, like the bath towel that is all Kenshi is allowed to wear.

Support: Jakob/Mozu

C: Jakob finds Mozu crying, because she had a nightmare about the death of her family, and comforts her.

B: Jakob tells Mozu that she is fortunate to have had something to lose; he explains his abusive childhood that ended with him being sold into servitude of the royal family and tells Mozu to hold onto her memories of her village.

A: Mozu begins training so she can be strong enough to protect everyone and thanks Jakob for looking out for her.

S: Jakob proposes to Mozu, asking her to help him create memories worth cherishing.

Review: This one was short, but good. It could have very easily just been a throwaway conversation about Jakob’s fanciness contrasting Mozu’s lack of sophistication. Instead, it was a genuinely touching conversation that expanded both characters and made me love Jakob even more.

Support: Orochi/Saizo

C: Orochi tells Saizo to stop being mean, because it’s ruining his reputation with the ladies, and threatens to take matters into her own hands.

B: Orochi reveals that when they first met, when Saizo was a child and she was...whatever age she was, she predicted misfortune in his future, which scared Saizo so much he wet his pants. She then reveals that she’s told everyone. Saizo runs away to salvage his reputation.

A: Saizo comes back, furious. Apparently, Orochi lied about telling everyone and Saizo, in his attempts to explain that he only peed his pants because he was a child, ended up spreading the story for her.

S: Saizo has turned over a new leaf and is trying to be nicer thanks to Orochi’s mind games. Orochi confesses that, when she fortolled misfortune in Saizo’s future, she must have actually been talking about his father. Because, as we all know, Saizo has not suffered any misfortune in his life. Also they get married.

Review: This one was decent. Saizo ignoring Orochi’s threats at first then ruining everything in his struggle to fix things is amusing, and the duo have better chemistry than most couples in this game.

Support: Azura/Corrin (Birthright)

Notice the Birthright parenthetical. Corrin and Azura, the main duo, actually have different conversations in different routes, which is neat.

C: Corrin and Azura take a walk together. Azura compares the nice day to Castle Shirasagi. She then apologizes for bringing up her childhood, which she feels belonged to Corrin.

B: Azura asks Corrin about her childhood and Corrin explains both the forced isolation and the constant companionship from Elise and the servants. Corrin actually says she misses the Northern Fortress.

A: Corrin and Azura reflect on their different opinions of Nohr: Azura’s feelings of it being the evil she escaped and Corrin’s of it being a home she misses. They discuss the fact that no place is truly good or bad, something the game’s writers needed to be reminded of, and vow to bring peace.

S: Corrin states that his good memories of Nohr all stem from kind people and vows to be that kind of person for her. The duo exchange some insanely on the nose promises about being fine in a dark pit if they’re together and their fates being intertwined. Now, this may feel like incest because they share parents and siblings, but I actually think this one is okay? As long as there isn’t some late game twist that makes them cousins or something, this seems good.

Review: Overall, a fairly good conversation. Corrin’s feelings on Nohr are more nuanced than this game normally is and the idea that Nohr isn’t evil because of the people is a good sentiment.

Support: Setsuna/Subaki

C: Subaki and Setsuna are assigned to train new recruits together. The new recruit is Kenshi, I have decided. Subaki, worried that Setsuna will be Setsuna and mess everything up, does everything himself.

B: Setsuna just wanders off in the middle of training new recruits and Subaki tries to help her be a better leader.

A: Setsuna attempts to resign from teaching, but Subaki tells her that her wandering off actually helped the recruits because she’s observant, I guess. Setsuna does not retire from teaching.

S: Setsuna tells Subaki that she likes him then wanders off because she’s done talking. Subaki chases after her and proposes.

Review: This one was mediocre. Setsuna is always fun, but this support conversation lacked a good conflict and was resolved in a dumb way. Setsuna wandering off in the middle of a confession is fun, but the relationship wasn’t built up at all.

Birthright Chapter 9: Land of Gods

The gang head to Izumo, a neutral kingdom south of Hoshido. The guards, recognizing Azura, let the party in. Corrin asks about the missing princes and is told no battle happened near Izumo. No war in Ba Sing Se and all that jazz. Archduke Izana approaches them, looking like a wise and calm leader. Then he talks and they realize that he’s a silly boy.

They ask him about the battle on the border of Izumo and he tells them he knows nothing about it. Izana invites the gang to rest and be treated by his healers. He also invites Corrin and Sakura to go to some special spa healing in his deep relaxation chamber which is absolutely not suspicious.

The deep relaxation chamber is an execution chamber. Nohrian soldiers march in to kill Corrin and Izana reveals that he is actually a Nohrian mage named Zola. His voice sounds like Gollum and he has this weird jester hat. I cannot wait for the part of the game where we kill him.

Right before Corrin is executed, half of the Nohrian soldiers attack the other half. It’s revealed the soldiers are actually our soldiers in disguise. Where they got the Nohrian costumes, I do not know. Maybe they looted them from some corpses? Also, how did they know this was happening? And how did they seamlessly blend into the Nohrian army? I have many questions.

Hinoka explains that she knew Zola wasn’t the real Izana because no royal would ever act like such a silly boy, because she has never read any history textbook. The battle begins.

Something I haven’t mentioned yet that I want to mention: if an enemy has a super effective weapon, a red balloon with an exclamation mark appears above them as you move your unit. Nice touch.

On turn two, two new characters march into battle: a Samurai named Hinata and a Spear Fighter named Oboro. The two of them are looking for Takumi. The two bicker. Hinata is an idiot and is thirsty for Takumi. Oboro fantasizes about killing all of the Nohrian scum and Hinata tells her to chill out. These two idiots are Takumi’s retainers. Corrin goes up to the duo and recruits them.

Hinata

A samurai and one of Takumi’s retainers. His personal skill, Triple Threat, hurts enemies who lower him below half health. His design is fine, I guess. I think they’re going for a meathead thing from his introduction and his scars and muscles, but he looks way too young. Personality wise, he seems to be kinda dumb, but not enough to be funny.

Oboro

A spear fighter who is really goddamn thirsty for Takumi and is also really racist. Her unit description is: Loves fashion, hates Nohr. Her personal skill makes her do extra damage to Nohrians, which is useful because we are at war with Nohr. Fates has a bad tendency of reducing characters to a single character trait and we’ve already been shown three traits for Oboro, which I assume will dominate every line she ever says. Seriously, we’ve known her for a minute and she’s said Nohrian Scum a dozen times.

This map was good. It was a standard fighting enemies in a castle map; nothing special, but then again it didn’t need to be special. After the battle, Zola says that he’d rather die than tell Corrin anything. He then throws a smokescreen and runs away, only to be attacked by Leo.

Leo says he’s going to kill Zola for being a disgrace to Nohr and Corrin says, no, don’t do that, don’t hurt another Nohrian. Except, Corrin has killed dozens of Nohrians at this point. Leo yells at Corrin for being a traitor and gives her Zola to keep as a pet. Corrin reflects on how Leo has gotten stronger, but also become more cruel, since her betrayal of Nohr.

The gang meets the real Izana. Yeah he’s every bit as weird and wacky as Zola was. He tells the gang about hearing that the princes were near the bottomless canyon and reads Corrin’s fortune. He sings the next verse of Ocean’s Grey Waves, implying that this song is genuinely a prophecy about this game.

In the white light, a hand reaches through

A double-edged blade cuts your heart in two

Waking dreams fade away,

Embrace the brand-new day

So, let’s see. First off, a lot of imagery about light, which is Hoshido’s aesthetic. Not sure what verse one means, but verse two is some heavy foreshadowing for Chapter 26. I’ll talk about it more then. Verses three and four are about Corrin leaving the fake life in Nohr and returning to Hoshido. Probably.

Azana also predicts that the princes are both alright, so the gang heads off to find them. That night, Azura talks to Corrin about the prophecy, saying that it is the lyrics to a song she was taught as a child that now seems to be about Corrin.

#fire emblem #fire emblem fates #fe fates #fe 14 #hoshido #fire emblem birthright #oboro fe #hinata fe #zola fe #leo fe #izana fe #corrin fe #azura fe #corrin x azura #jakob x mozu #setsuna x subaki #orochi x saizo

[cityandthebeast]

Snippets 01

Some ideas/snippets from our Ideas doc that didn’t make it into Book 1 but we’d like to share them nonetheless XD * * * Ocher’s internal scream broke forth and became external. AAAAAAA-I am so happy!!!

Hector: “Aw”. * * * Hector about Ocher’s parents who are headed for retirement, encouraging Ocher to convince them to already retire, “How much longer do they have? Only a couple of years… something something. ..”  Ocher only hears “they’ve got only a couple of years left” part.

* * * Sam: Yen, you haven’t been sleeping at home lately and Nakhti says you’re not at his place either. Yen: Easy, I’ve been sleeping at this guy’s who can play anything on any musical instrument ever! Sam =.= Yen: No, remember that time I had to bring a drum to a guy? That’s that guy.

* * * Penny trading with the pile itself when nobody else will trade with him.

* * * Amalka complains to Neha that she doesn’t behave well with Alena, Neha says “You’re the only other old person I can stomach here! And you won’t be old for another fifty years!”

* * *

Yen pissed at Nakhti “He says I’m hell knows where, well then I’ll go be hell knows where even more!” 

Blaise finds Yen in his kitchen in the morning rummaging through the cupboards, Yen goes like I got here at night but I didn’t want to wake you up so I slept on the couch and Blaise is like “wow, my trash son is so mindful”. * * *

Yen tells Sam the vice mayor is a turkey and that he had to chase him for a week. Sam is like what. Then Sam sees the newspaper from Halloween and is like “did you chase the vice mayor while he was in a turkey costume? Is this some weird kink I don’t wanna know about” and Yen is like “why it seems right up your alley, you’re the one with all the animal-headed people.” 

Sam: “They’re gods!” 

Yen: “Yeah, see this is exactly what I’m talking about, you damn furry!” * * * (more snippets coming! Also these are just some snippets we don’t plan to make comics/little doodles out of, because we also have plenty of the ones we will eventually illustrate XD) Read our City and the Beast novel for free on our website sharadrass.com! :3

#City and the Beast #writers on tumblr #writeblr #original characters #original character #ocs #oc #urban fantasy #books #lgbtq #lgbt #romance #novel #novels #drawings #characters #book #literature #original #ideas #writing #book art #writers #idea #art #concept #dialogue #dialogues #cute #funny

[avengers1shots]

Radio Silence

Peter Parker x Reader

You're sitting on the dock, staring up at the stars. It’s quiet, it’s always quiet here. So it’s not hard to notice as something streaks across the sky. You make a wish. But the light falls closer and closer. And it’s not a star, but it’s burning. You hear a scream and watch as a body collides with the lake. You hop to your feet, quickly diving in after it. The water is dark but you follow a glint. You struggle to get back above water with the extra weight, lungs begging for air, but you push past it. You gasp as you break past the surface, pushing your way to the bank. You hoist the body into the grass, getting a proper look at the individual as you pull off a mask and begin CPR. He coughs for a moment, mumbling incoherently before falling unconscious once again. 

He wakes up the next morning with a start, attempting to jump up but yelping in pain. You pause the movie you were watching and walk through the open gap into the dining room where you had left him bandaged on the table. 

“I would be more careful.” You warn and he jolts in surprise at your presence. 

“Who are you? What’s going on?” He breathes quickly, taking in his current state. His eyes glance at the mask resting on a chair at the edge of the room. “Where’s my suit?” 

“Ruined. Burned up during your fall.” You answer first, taking a cautious step towards him. 

“The fall?” He repeats taking a second to gather his thoughts. He moves to rub at his eyes and hisses in pain at the quick movement. 

“You gotta take it easy.” You warn. “You got burned pretty bad too. It’s a miracle you survived once you hit the water. Do you remember what happened to you?” 

“Yeah, yeah it’s coming back to me.” He answers. “Who are you?”

“Y/N L/N.” You reply. “And you?”

“Peter Parker.” He says, cautiously. “Who are you with y/n l/n?” 

You chuckle at the odd question. “I’m not with anyone.” 

“I can’t believe you managed to track where I fell, is that the kind of technology that was on the truck?” 

“You took a pretty nasty fall, I think you’re heads in a weird place.” You reply as your golden retriever comes bounding into the room. Peter looks hesitant for a second but the dog simply sniffs his hand and sits expectantly. 

“Oh sorry, I am with someone. This is Maizy.” You introduce and he gives her a gentle rub on the head. 

“There’s nobody else here?” 

“No one.” 

“So you found me…” 

“Yep.” 

“So why aren’t I in a hospital?” 

“Do you know where we are?” You inquire, chuckling lightly. “This is Green Bank.” 

You begin to explain when he shoots you a confused look. “Green Bank, West Virginia. We’re in the National Radio Quiet Zone. There’s no signal or wifi or transmissions at all within thousands of miles. I could’ve hiked you up to the emergency center, but it’s a 20 mile trek. I know CPR and there’s a first aid kit, so I figured I better just keep you steady for the night.” 

“Wow, so you like saved my life.” He exhales. 

“Well I wouldn’t-” You begin. 

“You did.” He asserts before looking out the window. “What a mess. Aunt May is gonna lose it.. God, I need to call her and tell her- oh no.” 

“Yeah, no cell phone signal. But, uh, there’s a phone booth a couple miles north.” You retort. “I can give you a lift.” 

“That’d be amazing, thank you so much.” 

                                                         --🕸--

You peddle down the road, Peter riding behind you in the wagon. You expected some complaint as you unveiled the simple bike, but he didn’t even joke. Even as you were riding over uneven paths, bumps jostling his injuries, he remained kind, dismissing any concern you voiced. 

He thanks you as you help him to his feet when you arrive at the box. He immediately begins limping the short distance and you let out a breath of amusement, calling out to stop him. 

“Hey Peter?” 

“Yes?” He turns, picking up the receiver. 

“Do you have any money?” 

His eyes widen in realization, patting himself as a reflex (and wincing) as you walk over and press a few coins into his hands. 

                                                        --🕸--

After you ride him back, you recommend some low-energy activities to keep him in recovery. Though you soon realize the boy is too antsy to sit still as you attempt to reapply his bandages. So you allow him to help you put together sandwiches and some snacks before picking out a few movies and settling down. 

Maizy fixes herself a spot on the couch in between you two and by the time the sun sets Peter has already crashed, the retriever snoozing beside him. 

                                                        --🕸--

You wake up in the morning to the smell of smoke. It jolts you out of bed and you come racing down the stairs to find Peter dumping a few burnt pancakes into the trash can. 

“Don’t worry Maize, I’m sure I’ll get it. You know what they say, 13th time’s the charm, right?” He speaks to the dog, patting her on the head.

You chuckle from your position at the bottom of the steps causing him to whip around with an embarrassed expression. “Are you trying to burn this cabin down, Parker? Because I’d really advise you to stay away from fire.” 

You take a few steps into the kitchen but notice one of the burns on his arm has improved significantly. You take his elbow gently, looking over it with disbelief. “That’s not possible.” 

“It’s a miracle what a good night’s sleep can do for you.” He offers. 

“These take weeks to heal and you’ve jumped half the recovery period overnight.” You reply. “It’s impossible.” 

“I’ve got a great immune system.” He tries instead, turning back to his pancake batter. You reach and turn down the heat from high to medium and he shoots you a grateful smile. 

“I’m sure you do, Spiderman.” You retort, opening up the fridge and pulling out some orange juice. When you look back at him, he’s gawking at you. “Come on, you’re famous. I was skeptical whether that was just a costume but obviously not. I don’t live under a rock, you know.” 

“Well not a rock, but this place is as off the grid as it gets. People know about superheros here?” He asks. 

“Not the residents, that’s very unlikely. The military probably have intel though, they’re all over. But I don’t actually live here, it’s just a vacation cabin for spring break.” You explain. “My older brother’s staying at a place further in town with the car.” 

Peter nods in understanding, finally producing flipping a perfect pancake onto a plate with a big grin. You congratulate the boy and the two of you sit down for a nice breakfast. 

                                                        --🕸--

Peter suggests a day in the lake, which you caution against as his wounds are better, but still raw. He dismisses this, chirping about saltwater being good for wounds and before you get a chance to explain that isn’t exactly how it works, he’s already running towards the dock and doing a flip into the water. Maizy soon chases after him, excitedly and you watch the two for a moment before eventually joining them. 

The two of you have an exciting day outdoors and by the time night falls once again, you’re back on the dock. You’re looking up at the sky, but this time he’s laying safely beside you instead of hurtling towards his death. 

“Wow. I can’t believe the stars really look like this out here. It’s nothing like New York” He breathes in amazement and you nod. 

“Almost no light pollution.” You explain simply. “It’s what makes coming out to the middle of nowhere worth it.” 

“Because it’s so beautiful.” He says softly. 

“Yeah.” You reply, turning your head to him but he’s already staring at you. Then he moves in, kissing you softly with his hand on your face. 

“Sorry.” He says, pulling back sheepishly but you simply shake your head and pull him back in with a hand on the nape of his neck. 

It’s a wonderful moment. That is until Maizy starts barking at the two of you, eagerly licking Peter’s face as soon as the two of you break apart. This causes you both to break into laughter and you take it all in as the best day of your vacation plays out. 

                                                        --🕸--

You cycle your way into town early, trading the bicycle for the car from your brother with a bullshit-ed excuse. You pack up some snacks for the drive, preparing a bed for Maizy in the back and by the time you reappear, all ready to go, Peter has woken up. He’s stretching on the couch as you walk into the den and greets you with a big yawn. “Morning”

“How are you feeling?” You inquire, sitting beside him. 

“Much better.” He confirms your suspicions and you peel away one of the bandages to find a pink scar. 

“Incredible.” You mutter to yourself, before standing up, keys jingling as you do so. 

“Are you going somewhere?” He asks, responding to the sound. 

“You gotta get home right?” 

“Huh?” 

“I mean, you weren’t planning on walking all the way back to New York were you?” 

“You’re really willing to drive all the way back for me?” 

“Yeah, I can’t keep the friendly Spiderman away from his neighborhood any longer, I think it’d be selfish. We’ll head out as soon as you're ready.” 

                                                        --🕸--

The three of you embark on the journey soon after and once you pass out of the quiet zone you allow the boy reign over your phone for music. Between snacks, jokes and jamming out, the seven-hour ride passes impossibly quickly and you arrive in Queens in no time. He says goodbye to Maizy who’s asleep in the back as he exits the car before walking over to your window and giving you a parting kiss. 

“You still owe me for tolls.” You joke as he pulls away, causing him to let out a light laugh. 

“Thank you y/n, for saving me and, well for everything.” 

“You saved me from cabin fever, let’s call it even.” You dismiss, though you feel a lump start to form in your throat. “I should go. You’ve got a world to save and I’ve gotta get this car back, so.” 

“Goodbye y/n.” 

“Goodbye Peter.” 

He gives you one last kiss on the forehead before quickly disappearing into the night and you begin a quiet journey back. 

He might not have been a shooting star, but you certainly got your wish. 

A/N: I have ideas for a part two so lmk if that’s something y’all would like!

-MST ✪

#avengers ships #avengersxreader #avengers x reader #avengersimagines #avengers1shots #avengers x you #avengers x y/n #Spiderman #Peter Parker #spiderman x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #spiderman fic #peter parker fic #spiderman x you #spiderman x y/n #Avengers #avengers fic #mcu

[coles-number-one-whore]

Warnings: Fluff

Prompt by SanderRohde on AO3:

So how about a Remile coffee shop au, but Emile is a demon? I know it’s a bit vague, but... here’s some extra stuff. u!Patton can be included. Remy owns and/or works at a coffee shop. Emile has wings. It’s still vague, but I just want to see what you do with it.

AO3

A Cake-Loving Demon

Honestly, Remy would've wanted to claim that one day, he and his crazy friends decided to be dumb and summmon a ghost, and accidentally summoned a hot demon boyfriend for him.

But Remy wasn't a liar, and that wasn't what happened. In fact, it went down a little bit like this.

~•~

Remy worked at as a barista in a small coffee shop in the town center, and since it was a small one, it didn't have many costumers, mostly couples who couldn't find any space in the more popular coffee shops and decided to come there instead. They ordered and stayed there for an hour or so before leaving and never coming back.

So it was a lovely job for someone as lazy as him.

Until one day, two men walked in and sat in a corner table. One of the men took Remy's eye, he had brown hair that faded into light pink at the tips and was wearing a jacket despite the hot weather, and the barista couldn't help but admit that he was a little, just a little, jealous.

No he didn't get a crush, thank you very much.

From then on, every day the man came there with a new date, sometimes a man, sometimes a woman, sometimes a person. And every time, he's order was a cake. Without fail. Every single time.

Nope. He wasn't pining.

But one day, the man came there by himself and sat at the counter. So Remy, very curious and only having half a brain cell, stared at him for a few seconds and went, "So... Ran out of failed dates?"

The man rolled his eyes and sighed, a bit surprised when the barista set a piece of cake in front of him. "Yeah. Sure. Failed dates. Let's call them that..."

~•~

The man, Emile as he introduced himself, kept on coming by himself and sat at the counter, chatting away with Remy while eating his cake.

Now, the weird thing about Emile, as Remy believed, was the stories he told him about his family. He was pretty sure they were made up, how else would he explains the stories he accidentally blurted out about the time he and the oldest of his younger sisters, Leona, were chased by a bunch of angels, or when he had to terrorize a bunch of kids from unintentionally stepping into a demon's territory? It just wouldn't make sense otherwise.

Fine. Remy was gping to admit it. Emile was cute, he had a crush.

~•~

Emile's back was itching like crazy and he could feel his wings slowly starting to hurt. He had been outside since the night before and hadn't had the time or hadn't been alone long enough to be able to let his wings out.

"I-- I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick." He excused himself, quickly getting up and hurrying to the bathroom as fast as he could. Once inside, he quickly checked to see if anyone else is there and then took off his jacket, letting his bat wings out to stop their aching.

"Hey, is everything...?" Remy trailed off when he saw Emile. Without his jacket on. <i>With wings.</i>

They stared at each other for a minute before Remy rook a deep breath and groaned. "So. You're telling me, you're hot <i>and</i> you have wings???"

"You-- You think I'm hot?" Emile asked, turning red when he earned a nod. "So you're not going to address... these?"

Remy shook his head. "I mean they're not real right?" Emile's expression made him realise that, oh crap, they're indeed real.

~•~

You know that feeling when the hot demon costumer that you're really close with, comes to the cafe you work in everyday and may or may not have made out with you a few times after you found out their deep dark secret when no one was looking, and then suddenly one day they don't show up?

Well Remy was feeling that way and he was determined to try not to freak out until the end of his shift.

When his shift was finally over, the barista, picked up his phone, quickly dialled Emile's number and waited for him to pick up.

<i>"Hello?"</i>

Remy let out a sigh of relief. "Oh wow. You sound like shit."

<i>"Remy- Where did you get my number?"</i>

"Don't question it. You sound sick. I'm coming over."

<i>"...You don't know where I live."

"Yeah? That's why I called!"

~•~

"Great. You <i>look</i> like shit too." He commented as be entered the apartment.

That was an understatement. Emile looked like he had just woken up, his hair was a mess, his eyes were groggy and he wasn't bothering to hide his wings.

"Anyways. Time to be play nurse. Lay down. Now." Remy ordered, pointing at the couch.

"Remy. I love you, but please, let me be for today?" The demon begged as he moved to the couch.

"No I can't." He shook his head. "Aaaaand that's all I knew about taking care of sick people. So sleep." Emile let out a small laugh. "What? Unlike you, I didn't round up with four younger sisters who got sick all the time. Are demons supposed to get sick anyways?" The demon's soft snores cut off his trail of questions. "Well that was fast..."

He silently reached out to touch the wings, despite how close the two had gotten, Remy had never actually gotten around to touching those. Unlike the leathery and hard look of the wings, they were actually rather soft and comfortable to touch.

He was just about to leave when Emile reached out and grabbed his arm. "Stay please?"

"Sure..." He sat by the couch, slowly dosing off himself.

The next day, Emile waked up with the human curled up on his arms and sleeping next to him on the couch soundly, his wings wrapped around them protectively. There was a photo on the table in front of them.

It was a photo of the two of them, bothe sleeping like that. It was quite adorable, Emile would admit. There was a note attached to it.

<i>And only NOW I get to find out you have a boyfriend? Anyways. You're cute together, thought I'd take a photo. -Leona </i>

#sander sides #emile sanders #remy sanders #remile #fluff #remile fluff #coffee shop au #demon emile #demon au #barista remy