#‘what is damien doing with his wand’

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Hi! I've been thinking a lot about hufflepuff!fem!reader biting more than she could chew whilst practising new spells and opening a portal to a new dimension (think of the multiverse) and ending up in Gotham where she meets Nightwing during one of his patrols, where he was helping out the rest of the Batfamily pin point the spot where an anomaly created by her was detected...thanks! xx

Falling First

AN: I am SO sorry, I realised how long it was this will likely be a two parter- but OMG I dropped everything this idea was too cute

WC: 6077

CW: Use of {Y/N}, vivid panic attack, blood, rat mishandling

“Are you going to keep reading that dumb book?” Damien’s judgmental voice called over to Nightwing from the other side of the rooftop. He was practicing his form, swinging around Nightwing’s staff as if it was one of his swords.

Dick was leaning against the concrete wall, holding a soda and reading a book propped on his lap. The title? Hogwarts: A History.

“Dumb book?” Dick scoffed playfully, leaning further back. "It's fascinating!" He raved, not taking his eyes off the pages. "Besides, who doesn't want to read about wizarding worlds and magical creatures? The.. the interesting ways in which students have harmed themselves. I wonder if there is another volume..” He began to mumble.

Damien rolled his eyes, still twirling the staff with practiced ease. "We deal with real villains and real threats every day. I don't see the point in wasting time on make-believe. And did father even say you could take that here? It's evidence.”

Dick glanced up from his book, a smirk playing on his lips. "You know, some day, you'll learn to relax. It's just a light read. Helps keep the mind sharp and the imagination alive."

With a final, flashy spin of the staff, Damien stopped and faced Nightwing, raising an eyebrow. "Imagination? You sound like Grayson. Oh wait, you are Grayson.”

Dick chuckled, shaking his head. "And you, my dear Damien, sound like a mini Bruce with a side of extra grumpiness."

Damien huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I just don't see the point."

"Well, in fairness, you do need a signal. Has it happened yet?” Oracle’s voice called out from their earpiece. Dick leaned back and pressed two fingers to his ear. “Not yet, it's still stable.”

Damien huffed and walked over, sitting down on the concrete wall and snatching the bag of open puffs. “We'll be here all night. What's the point?”

“To find more anomalies, Robin.” Barbara sighed and leaned back in her seat, spinning a bit from the large computer screen and sliding over towards a glass display, showing off several random items that had been appearing on the roof top for months now.

Scrolls, weathered and tampered. Random blue crystals, which Dick’s newest favorite book called ‘moonstones,’ quills, and even what seemed to be a wand carved from hazel wood. All of which had appeared on that rooftop with a spark of terrifying energy.

"Right, anomalies.” Dick smirked, sitting up a bit straighter and closing his book. "We can't have mysterious artifacts just popping up all over Gotham. That would be bad for business."

Damien gave a reluctant nod, munching on the puffs he had taken from Dick’s bag. "Still, I don’t see how reading that book helps us."

"Knowledge is power, Damien." Dick cheeked, taking a sip of his soda. "Even if it's from a 'dumb book'. Besides, it might give us some insight into what we're dealing with. These items don’t exactly scream ‘normal’."

Barbara’s voice crackled over the earpiece again. "He's right, Damien. Understanding the lore and history behind these artifacts could be crucial. It might help us figure out where they're coming from and possibly even how they are getting here.”

“Yeah yeah..” He mumbled.

“Besides,” Dick smirked. “Who's to say we can't have a little fun on the-”

Before he could continue, lifting the book, it began to spark and flicker in his hands. As if its very file was corrupted but somehow managed to manifest physical energy. The book glowed with an eerie yellow and pink light, and the pages began to flip rapidly on their own.

"Uh, guys?" Dick called out, his playful demeanor shifting to one of concern. "I think we might have another anomaly on our hands."

Damien immediately leaped up and snapped his attention around them, pulling his katana from his sheath and getting ready.

Dick got up next, taking his staff and looking around cautiously.

“We are getting it here too!” Barbara ’s voice was hardly audible, the lights around the city began to flicker and wave, as if he was staring at a terrible simulation on the break on destruction.

Barbara stood watching the other artifacts from the batcave, seeing them flicker and spark with life as they began to glitch from place to place.

Suddenly, there was a loud crackle from above Dick and Damien, and then a loud squeak.

“Shit.” Dick hissed and shot him, using his staff to propel him and catch whatever was falling before it hit the ground.

He found in his hand, a fat brown and white rat.

Just like that, the glitching stopped. The lights around them returned to normal, and they were left with a new friend.

Dick got to his feet, holding the rat much like you would a can of soda. Staring at it curiously as it squeaked and wiggled about in distress.

"Well, this is new," Dick remarked, raising an eyebrow at the squirming rodent. "Meet our latest anomaly." He showed Damien the squirming thing.

Damien sheathed his katana, looking unimpressed. "A rat? Seriously? This is what all that chaos was about?" He wandered over and held his hand out for it, Dick smirked and pushed his head away, stepping back with a chuckle as Damien tried to steal the rodent from him.

Barbara's voice came through the earpiece, much clearer now. "Dick, Damien, are you both okay? The readings just spiked and then dropped off the charts."

"Yeah, we're fine," Dick snickered and held the rat higher, still holding Damien off. "But it looks like our anomaly this time is a... rat."

“You're not holding it properly!” Damien hissed, muffled against Dick’s palm as he tried to get to the distressed animal.

"A rat?" Barbara repeated, puzzled. "That's odd. Any idea if it has any special properties?"

"Well, it did appear out of thin air." Dick noted playfully before he looked up at it, holding it flat on its stomach now. “Speak!”

It only seemed to huff in response and Dick shrugged. “Looks like a common city rat.”

“That's not a city rat!” Damien snapped. “Look at its patterns! It's domestic.”

“A pet rat?” Barbara muttered before she crossed her arms, confused. “So we started with random items and now a living creature?”

“Sounds like experiment progression to me.” Dick cooed at the rat before he lowered his arms. “Ima call him Mr. Squeakerson.”

Before he could stop him, Damien finally stole the rat from him, shielding the creature against his chest. "He's not a toy, Grayson," Damien snapped, glaring at Dick. "This is serious."

"Alright, alright," Dick relented, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Just trying to lighten the mood."

Barbara's voice came through the earpiece again. "Damien's right. If this rat is part of the anomalies, it could be important. We need to figure out where it came from and why it's here."

Damien nodded, cradling the rat gently, running two fingers down its back. "I'll take him back to the Batcave and run some tests. Maybe there's something special about this rat that we haven't identified yet."

"Good idea.” Dick agreed, his expression turning serious. "I'll keep an eye out for any more anomalies up here."

Barbara hummed. "I'll continue monitoring the readings. If anything happens, ring me, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Both Dick and Damien called into their ear pieces.

~~~

“No!” You sobbed out as the portal disappeared, staring at the middle of the shrieking shack in distress.

“We can always try again next full moon.” Luna Lovegood’s airy voice called over to you. You gave another groan, walking over to one of the discarded desks and sitting down.

“It's not working! I just don't get it.” You huffed, looking over the tomes and scrolls you both had splayed out on the floor and tables, ones you had pinned and scraped together, littered with muggle sticky notes and ink that traveled between the pages as if to etch out a map.

Tomes of old magic with modern magic, the deep theory of apparition. And even some old muggle studies of what they would call inter dimensional travel. You began to scatter over the pages, stepping over the moonstones you had gathered, the fine line of black sand that had now crystallized with the energy of the portal, making it almost glass.

“What a waste of Diricawl feathers.” You whined and let your head hit the desk, Luna reaching over to rub your head to try and comfort you.

It had been months, months of you trying to create a portable form of Floo Flames, something safer than apparition and more accessible to the masses. You were turning 19 soon, you were so close to having to leave Hogwarts behind, and thus all the free materials needed to continue your experiments.

Luna continued to pat your head gently, her presence a small comfort to fight off your frustration. "You got closer this time." She breathed.

You sighed deeply, lifting your head just enough to glance at the scattered notes and artifacts. Lazily lifting your hand to grab one of your quills. "I know, Luna. It's just... I was so sure this time. We've been working on this for months, and it feels like we're no closer than when we started."

Luna gave you a dreamy smile. "Progress isn't always visible. Sometimes, it's in the small things. Like today, we didn't lose anything to the portal.”

You slowly smiled, lifting your head. “I guess so.” You mumbled. “And it was bigger this time. I could almost put my hand through.”

“That's the spirit.” Luna hummed and stood up, waving her wand as she began to set the items to collect themselves from the floor. You pouted a bit and Luna turned to smile at you.

“Still miss your wand?”

“Deeply.” You huffed and sat up, fixing your tie. “And that history of Hogwarts book is going to set me back a few galleons to replace.”

Luna tilted her head, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Oh, I did forgot to mention. My father still has his old copy. He said he'd love to have you for tea, lend it to you. I can ask him if this coming holiday works."

You smiled at her, feeling your heart throb at her thoughtfulness. How could anyone hate this girl? "Thanks, Luna. You're always so helpful. I just hope we can figure this out before I have to leave Hogwarts."

Luna nodded, her brows furrowing. "We'll get there."

Just as she finished speaking, a soft glow appeared on the desk beside you. A small, shimmering portal flickered into existence for a brief moment before winking out. Both of you stared at the spot in surprise.

"Did you see that?" You whispered, as if speaking too loud would wake you up from a dream, your smile growing tenfold as Luna’s brows only furrowed deeper.

“It materialized! On its own!” You lit up and quickly got to your feet, scrambling for your journal.

“Oh that can't be good.” She muttered.

You paused, looking back at her with confusion. "What do you mean, can't be good? This is a breakthrough!"

Luna's expression remained serious, her eyes scanning the spot where the portal had flickered. "If it materialized on its own, it means the magic is becoming unstable. It might be reacting to something we don't understand yet."

Your excitement dimmed slightly as you considered her words. "Luna, it's a marvel!” You insisted. Luna hesitated, seeing her mother’s fire in your eyes. She took a steady breath and frowned a bit, turning into a pout, as you slowly relaxed your shoulders.

“It's a breakthrough.” You insisted. “And it happened after 3am, is that it? Did we have the witching hour wrong?”

As you began to scatter around the room, Luna watched with a worried look, before she could speak up about her concerns, you reached out your hand to your table. “Templeton! Quill!” You called out. But when the quill didn't hit your palm, you looked around confused. Where had your rat gone?

There was a moment of pause before you looked back at Luna. “Looloo? Where did Templeton go?”

Luna looked around the room before she slowly eyed the circle in the middle of the room. You felt your heart drop.

~~~

The majority of the day you had been moping. You missed your rat.

It was all you could think of, through every class, you couldn't shake the worry gnawing at the back of your mind. You had grown quite attached to Templeton, and the thought of him being lost somewhere unknown was unbearable. Was he alive? Was he eating? Was what he was eating safe? Was he safe?

Luna tried to cheer you up during lunch, but even her whimsical stories and odd facts couldn't lift your spirits. "We'll find him.” She tried to reassure you. "Maybe he's on an adventure of his own."

"An adventure?" You muttered, poking at your food. You had already started pushing the peas out of your food for Templeton. "I just hope he's safe."

As the day went on, you found yourself increasingly anxious. What if the portal had sent Templeton somewhere you couldn't reach? What if he was scared and alone? Cold and wet? What if he was missing you as much as you were missing him? The questions swirled in your mind, making it hard to focus on anything else.

---

Back in Gotham, Damien was busy running tests on the rat in the Batcave. He had set up a small, comfortable enclosure for the creature, complete with food and water. As the automated scanners did their work, Damien couldn't help but notice how the rat seemed oddly calm, almost as if it was used with all the testing.

"Any luck?" Dick asked, strolling into the lab area with a curious look. He was out of his costume, just in sweats and a black shirt.

"Nothing yet.” Damien mumbled, keeping his eyes on the monitors. "But there's definitely something different about this rat. It's too comfortable around all this testing. And his heart is on the wrong side.”

Dick nodded, looking at the rat with interest. "Any signs of where it might have come from?"

Damien shook his head, glancing at the rat. "Not yet. But the fact that its heart is on the wrong side suggests it might not be from around here. It's an anomaly in itself."

Dick frowned, leaning in closer to the rat. "So, it's not just any rat. That makes things more interesting. We need to figure out where it came from and what it means."

As the rat continued to explore its new enclosure, Damien's eyes narrowed. "... it's really friendly. Doesn't seem to like it kibble, keeps trying to eat what Alfred brings me."

Dick nodded. "I've been cross-referencing the data from the anomalies with our existing records over the years- wait, have you been letting it out of its cage?”

Damien flustered, stammering for a moment. “It's a small enclosure!”

Dick chuckled, shaking his head at Damien's defensiveness. "Seems like Mr. Squeakerson is already growing on you. What? Don't have enough strays?"

Damien scowled, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Don't get too attached. We still need to figure out where he came from and how he got here." Barbara's voice came from behind them. She pushed herself down the strip walk way in her wheelchair, getting back to her monitors with a yawn. Looking over to the cage and smiling as the rat seemed to get excited at her return. “He's smart. Very friendly.”

"Yeah, a bit too friendly for a rat that just appeared out of nowhere." Dick noted, watching the rat scurry around its enclosure with curiosity. "What do you think, Babs? Any theories?"

Barbara adjusted her glasses and leaned closer to the monitors, tapping a few keys to bring up the data. "It's definitely unusual. The heart on the wrong side, the comfort around humans, and now it's showing signs of higher intelligence. This isn't just any ordinary rat. That has only been seen once before.”

“... you mean when Lex Luther-”

“Exactly.” Barbarainterrupted and gestured to the display. “A wand. Stones, papers and tomes, even quills? All of them tie back to your book.”

Dick furrowed his brow at her and she then gestured to the rat. “What was it your book said? You could bring pets?”

“A rat, an owl, or a frog.” Dick mumbled before Damien seemed to catch one.

“Are they…”

“From another universe.” Dick concluded with a slack jaw.

“One where their organs mirror our own.”

Damien's eyes widened with realization. "So, you're telling me this rat might actually be from a parallel universe? One where magic is that common?"

Barbara nodded, her expression serious. "It's starting to look that way. The items we've found, the anomalies- they might all be connected to this other world. And if this rat is any indication, living creatures can cross over as well."

Dick looked thoughtfully at the rat, now affectionately named Mr. Squeakerson. "If that's true, then we need to figure out how these portals are opening and why. There might be more at stake here than just a few random artifacts."

Damien nodded and Barbara sighed.

“I think we need to call in the others. Tell Bruce what we know.” Barbara mused and gestured to the rat.

Dick walked over to the cage and opened it, a bit surprised when the rat ran up his arm and straight to his shoulder. Like it knew exactly what he wanted.

“Huh.”

“I'll call the others.” Damian nodded, turning before Barbara called over. “Don't forget Jason!”

She could hear his groan echo off the walls.

~~~

You were stressed, you were tired. You hadn't slept since Templeton fell through the portal. You went straight back to the shack after curfew, setting everything up once more.

Luna, ever the supportive friend, had accompanied you despite the late hour. She watched quietly as you frantically arranged the moonstones and black sand, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

"You need to rest.” She said softly, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "You'll think more clearly after some sleep."

You shook your head, determined. "I can't rest, Luna. Templeton is out there somewhere, and I need to find him. What if he's in danger?"

Luna sighed but didn't argue further. Instead, she waved her wand, casting a charm that made the various components float into place more efficiently. "At least let me help you. Two minds are better than one."

As you both worked, the night crept into day. Luna pushed more firm this time, asking you to at least rest before you attempt anything.

You agreed to a nap, though reluctantly, knowing that your exhaustion could lead to mistakes. Luna conjured a small, comfortable cot in the corner of the shack, and you lay down with a sigh, the weight of your worry making it hard to fully relax.

Luna sat beside you, humming a soft, soothing tune. "Just a quick nap, and then we can get back to work. Templeton will be alright. I have a feeling about it."

You nodded, your eyes drifting shut as Luna's gentle voice lulled you.

As you drifted into a fitful sleep, Luna kept watch, her wand ready and her eyes scanning the room for any signs of magical disturbances. She hoped that a brief rest would replenish your energy and clear your mind for the tasks ahead.

---

Back in Gotham, the Batcave was bustling with activity. Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, and Tim Drake had joined the investigation, each bringing their unique skills to the table. And, unfortunately, their unique attitudes as well.

"So, this rat just appeared out of nowhere?" Bruce questioned, his voice calm but with an edge of curiosity.

"Exactly," Damien replied, holding the rat gently. "And he’s not just any rat. His heart is on the wrong side, and he shows signs of higher intelligence. We believe he might be from a parallel universe."

Bruce raised an eyebrow, glancing at Barbara and Dick. "Any theories on how these portals are opening?"

Barbara nodded, pulling up a holographic display and gesturing out to each spike of energy. “We think it's intentional. Like they are testing portals.”

"Testing portals?" Bruce echoed, narrowing his eyes at the display. "That would explain the increasing frequency and the variety of objects appearing. But why?"

"Could be a number of reasons." Tim suggested, stepping forward with a thoughtful expression. "They might be trying to establish stable connections between universes, or perhaps they're searching for something specific. Like a person?”

Jason, leaning casually against a console, chimed in with a smirk. "Or someone pissed off the wrong wizard and now we're dealing with magical fallout."

Damien shot Jason a glare but didn't respond. Instead, he turned back to Bruce. “Whatever it is, we think it's on purpose.”

Bruce nodded thoughtfully, absorbing the information. "We'll need to be prepared for anything. If someone- or something- is intentionally testing these portals, it could be a prelude to something much larger."

Dick looked at Mr. Squeakerson, who was now comfortably perched on his shoulder. "And this little guy might be our best clue to figuring out what’s going on. We need to keep him safe and see what we can learn from him."

Barbara interjected, "I'll continue monitoring the energy spikes and anomalies. We need to pinpoint the exact locations and timings of these events. Maybe we can predict when the next one will happen. There may even be more than one at a time.”

Tim hummed and nodded. "I'll look into the possibility of any magical artifacts or entities that could be responsible for the portals. There might be something in our archives that matches the energy signatures we're seeing."

Jason shrugged, pushing off the console. "Guess I'll be on anomaly patrol then. Wouldn't want anything else to just drop out of the sky unannounced."

Bruce nodded in agreement. "Good. We need to cover all the ground we can. Dick-”

“I'll patrol with Damien.” He interrupted and Bruce narrowed his eyes for only a moment before he nodded. “Everyone's dismissed.”

~~~

You woke up to flashing lights around you. As you opened your eyes, you were greeted with a bright yellow light, more flashing, then, suddenly, you felt like you were falling.

There was a sharp surge of pain that rocked you when your back hit the rooftop. You gasped, the wind knocked out of you as you struggled to regain your bearings. Blinking against the harsh lights and trying to make sense of your surroundings, you slowly sat up, wincing at the ache in your back. The smell of the city- smoke, asphalt, and something distinctly metallic; all hit your nose at once.

You raised your hand as you felt something warm drip from your nose, only to feel another painful shock run through you. You gave a wail of pain as your body began to glitch, as if you were some kind of faulty Sunday cartoon.

It was unbearable, and you let out a throat tearing sob as the pain rocked through you. No one was around, no one near you anyway, and the glitching seemed to get worse. The lights of the city seemed to flicker in response to your pain, and after what felt like hours, you were able to lift yourself.

Your face was covered in blood, your uniform stained with the red fluid, and your head was light.

As your blurry eyes began to focus, you took in the city around you. It was nothing like you had ever seen before; the buildings were towering structures of steel and glass, illuminated by a myriad of neon lights and billboards- some brighter than the sun itself. The noise of the city was a constant hum, a combination of distant traffic, sirens, and the occasional shout from the streets below.

You staggered to your feet, clutching your head as another wave of dizziness hit you. "Where... am I?" you whispered to yourself, trying to make sense of the alien environment.

Were you in a muggle city? Where were your things? Where was Templeton?

Your breathing grew quicker as you realized, not only did you have no clue if you popped out where everything else had but that portal that brought you here was clearly unstable. You didn't summon it, nor did you think Luna did.

She was right, she always was.

You ran your fingers through your hair with a choked sob. Growing more and more frustrated with your own stupidity- you didn't have a wand, you hardly knew any nonverbal spells, you were in the middle of nowhere, and the backdrop of screaming and rowdy life of the city didn't bring any comfort.

Your breath started coming in short, rapid gasps, each one feeling more shallow than the last. Trying to calm your sobs, only worsening it with hiccups. Your heart pounded in your chest, a wild, erratic beat that echoed in your ears. The world around you seemed to blur, the neon lights and towering buildings warping and bending in your vision.

"I... I can't... breathe.” You choked out, your voice barely a whisper. Your hands trembled uncontrollably as you clutched at your chest, trying to will your lungs to take in air. Each inhale felt like you were trying to breathe through a straw, thin and insufficient.

You stumbled, falling back down to your knees and curling up against the concrete wall. Clenching your robe as the horrible and painful glitches returned, the lights and sounds of the city mocking you as the power flickered around with you.

Your mind raced with a thousand thoughts at once, each one more frantic than the last. Where am I? How did I get here? What if I can't get back? What if Templeton is gone forever? The questions swirled and collided, creating a cacophony of panic that drowned out any attempt at rational thought.

The ground seemed to tilt beneath you, making it difficult to keep your balance. You reached out, grasping at nothing, desperate for something solid to hold onto.

Your vision started to narrow, darkening at the edges as the pain rattled you into nothing but a trembling lump.

As your vision continued to darken and your breaths came in ragged gasps, you heard a voice, distant at first but gradually becoming clearer.

"Hey, are you okay?" The voice was filled with concern, cutting through the chaos in your mind. You tried to focus on it, using it as an anchor to the present.

A figure knelt down beside you, you couldn't make him out but he felt safe. He gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Just breathe, okay? In and out, nice and slow." The voice was calm and steady, a stark contrast to the panic you felt inside. You tried to will away the tears that prickled your eyes.

You tried to follow the instructions, but your body was still wracked with tremors and your mind was a whirlwind of fear. The figure gently rubbed your back, trying to soothe you.

"It's okay, you're safe now.” His voice reminded you of something. Something soft, something gentle.

As you focused on the voice, you felt a small sense of calm start to push through the overwhelming panic. It was like a lifeline, something to hold onto in the midst of the storm inside your mind.

"That's it, just breathe.” The voice continued, steady and reassuring. "You're going to be okay. I'm right here with you."

You took a shaky breath, trying to match the rhythm the voice was setting. In and out, in and out. Slowly, very slowly, the world around you started to come back into focus. The neon lights were still bright, the city noise still loud, but they felt a little less overwhelming with each breath you managed to take.

As your vision cleared, you saw the face of the figure kneeling beside you. It was a large man. Well, certainly larger than you. He was in a blue and black uniform of sorts, and a symbol on his chest you couldn't make out with your hands in the way. You didn't realize that in your panic to find anything solid, you had reached out and grabbed him. Not that he seemed to mind, looking at you from behind his domino mask with such gentleness.

"Hey.” He said softly, his covered eyes tracing your face. He had such a sweet smile. "You're okay. I'm Nightwing, and you're safe now."

You nodded weakly, now gripping his arm for support. The tremors in your body were starting to subside, your breaths becoming steadier. Nightwing's presence was grounding, his calm helping to pull you out of the spiral of panic with so much ease you wondered if he had done it before.

"Can you tell me your name?" He prodded gently, not wanting to overwhelm you.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice, wincing as you tasted that copper flavor, your nose was still bleeding. "{Y/N}.” You managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "My name is {Y/N}."

Nightwing gave you a reassuring smile. "It's nice to meet you, {Y/N}. Pretty name for a pretty girl. Can you tell me what happened? How you got here?"

You took another deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "I... I don't know. There was a portal, and then I was here. I don't know where here is."

Nightwing nodded, his expression serious but understanding, his smile slowly falling. In your sensitive state, you felt your heart clench as you clearly disappointed this definite guardian. "You're in Gotham City. We'll figure out the rest. Can you stand?”

“I-I don't know.” You whispered, your voice shaking and he nodded.

“That's alright, you're alright. Can I touch you?”

“Seems only fair.” You whispered and began to move your hands from his arms.

Nightwing chuckled softly at your remark, glad to see a bit of humor returning to your voice. "Alright, I'm going to help you up. Nice and easy."

He gently placed one arm around your back and another under your knees, lifting you with surprising ease. You felt a bit of a jolt, but his steady confidence helped keep you grounded. As he stood up with you in his arms, you leaned against him, feeling an odd sense of safety despite the chaos around you.

As he carefully carried you towards the edge of the rooftop, you noticed another figure standing there, watching with a mix of curiosity and concern. It was Damien, still holding the staff, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.

"Another anomaly?" Damien asked, his tone skeptical.

Nightwing nodded, carefully setting you down on a nearby crate, making sure you were steady before letting go. "Looks like it. This is {Y/N}. She came through a portal, just like the other items."

Damien approached, his expression softening slightly as he looked at you. "Are you alright?" He asked, his voice carrying a hint of genuine concern despite his usual demeanor. You didn't notice Nightwing raising his eyebrows in surprise.

You nodded, still feeling a bit uneasy. Nightwing pulled out a cloth and held it out to you.

Raising it to your nose you started to stop the bleeding, watching as he put two fingers to his ear. “Oracle, we found something. Send a car.”

“Car?” You whispered and Damien narrowed his eyes at you.

“You must of hit your head pretty hard, huh?” He prodded and you turned to him with furrowed brows.

“Cars? Like the muggle death traps?” You pushed and the younger boy gave you the same confused look you were sending him.

“Muggles? The hell are muggles?” He pushed and your stomach sank.

Nightwing and Damien exchanged a glance, both clearly puzzled by your words. Nightwing crouched down to your level, his expression softening even more as he tried to understand.

"Muggles?" Nightwing asked gently. "You mean non-magical people, right? Like in the book I was reading?"

You nodded slowly, feeling a bit relieved that at least one of them seemed to understand. Then, your jaw dropped. “You read my book?” You pushed and he slowly nodded.

“I guess that was yours? You have a lot of explaining to do.” He slowly smirked at you and you couldn't help how your stomach fluttered at his look.

“Explaining?” You whispered.

“Those portals have been opening up everywhere. It's messing with our entire power grid.”

“What's a power grid?” You pushed again and his jaw clenched a bit.

Damien gave a huff. “This will be a fun one to explain.”

The second the car pulled up you fell quiet. Looking down the several story drop. You looked between the two boys curiously before Dick smiled at you and easily wrapped his arm around your back. “Go ahead and wrap your arms around me, yeah?”

You gave a small yelp at the sudden contact, making him chuckle, which made you pout, furrowing your brow at him. Still, you listened, and wrapped your arms around his neck. Pulling closer to him much like a cat would. He sent Damien a wink and the young boy groaned, rolling his eyes.

You peaked just past Dick’s shoulder and watched as he pulled out a bat shaped trinket, only for him to shoot it out and latch onto the side of the building. “Tighten that grip, I won't choke.”

“Keep teasing me and I'll actually do it.” You huffed before you gave a small gasp at you own tone, Dick just barked out a laugh in absolute delight at your snark.

Then he jumped.

And you prayed to Merlin for a proper savior.

You watched as the hook began to slow your fall, staring curiously around you with an awe strucken face. Nightwing helped you down again and let you in, instructing the younger boy to go home on foot, it seems there were only two seats.

The ride there was filled with mindless chatter. It was mostly one sided, as Nightwing spoke to a small device in his ear.

You sat in the car, your mind racing to catch up with everything that had happened. The city outside the window was a blur of lights and movement, a stark contrast to the more familiar and magical world you had come from. Nightwing's calm voice was a soothing background as he communicated with his team.

"Yeah, we're on our way to the Batcave." Nightwing said into his earpiece. "We have a guest who might be able to help us with the anomalies. We'll need everyone there."

You glanced at him, your curiosity piqued. You kept your voice low so as to not interrupt what was happening. "Batcave? Is that like your headquarters?"

Nightwing nodded, giving you a reassuring smile. "Clever girl. Yeah, go ahead and lean back, we don't know what happened to you.”

You nodded and compiled easily. You found yourself wondering how easy you would be to kidnap, just send you to a foreign place and send in a hot guy who called you pet names and you were done for.

Nightwing continued his conversation through the earpiece, his tone professional yet reassuring. "Oracle, make sure the med bay is ready. We need to check for any injuries or anomalies. And get Bats and the others up to speed."

You felt yourself slowly slipping, the exhaustion form it all catching up with you. As the car sped through the city streets, the combination of Nightwing's soothing voice and the gentle hum of the engine began to lull you into a sense of calm. The adrenaline from your earlier panic attack was wearing off, leaving you feeling drained and exhausted.

"Just hang in there a little longer." Nightwing pushed gently, noticing your drooping eyelids. "We'll be at the Batcave soon, and then we can get you checked out and figure out how to help you."

You nodded weakly, feeling comforted by his presence. The car finally came to a long tunnel, one you couldn't see a thing in. Finally, a light broke through the darkness showing a massive cave. Nightwing helped you out of the vehicle, his grip was firm and the last thing you remembered was seeing the symbol on his chest, much more clearly.

It was a bat- of course it was.

[universallydestinytaco]

The Little Smiling Mermaid (Chapter 1)

‘Twas a misty aftermoon when the sky was crowded with dark grey clouds and the airborne foul soared above the sparkling sapphire waves dancing with the gusty breeze guiding the sails of many a sailing ship, one particularly rowdy vessel was celebrating the successful aftermath of their latest battle with an infamous pirate crew. The leader of this unruly crew was the scrappy, rugged and sharp-witted Prince Charlie of the Dompler family. You’d be forgiven for assuming he was a mere swashbuckler than a Royal. Despite being the heir to the throne of his kingdom he was looked down upon his fellow Nobles for coming off as awkward, bumbling and unattractive. Charlie didn’t give two shits what the overglorified snobs thought about him because he’d rather prefer going on high-spirited adventures beyond the sea with his motley crew of sailors than waste his precious time on some boring luncheon just to get judged for merely being there.

“Damn son, you showed Salty who’s-who THIS time!” Chris cracked up as he raised his stubby hand to initiate a high five from Charlie, who happily accepted the offer. Tomar piped up: “Don’t forget how his little toadie Ketchup immediately ran and cried for his Captain for it once he saw you jump into the crow’s nest with the dagger in your mouth.” Lyle let out a chuckle when adding: “What a wimp.” The gang shared their own retrospective of the event with gleeful laughs. “Oh, I almost forgot-“ Charlie uttered, while revealing a bottle of high quality rum: “I swiped this before I left!” The sailors howled in delight at the treat their friend unveiled. “Charlie you sunovabitch, we love you!” cried Chris who already felt intoxicated by the strong smell reeking from the bottle. Charlie replied with a wink and a cheeky “finger gun” gesture before opening up the bottle and shouting: “Bring out yer flasks, maties!”

On the other corner steering the ship was it’s Captain whom they jokingly called “Mr. Boss”, he was also the closest thing Charlie had to a father since his own parents passed away sometime when the land critter was a merely a homunculi. Mr. Boss’ ears observed the rowdy party singing off-key in unison to a familiar sea shanty, a side effect of hitting the sauce. Mr. Boss chuckled and sang along with the crew as he navigated them back to their kingdom of Gremblonia.

“I'll tell you a tale of the bottomless blue And it's hey to the starboard, heave hoooooooo!!!! Look out, lad, a mermaid be waitin' for you-“

Charlie, who was a top the ship where the sails where draped, belted out with great gusto: “DOWN MYSTERIOUS FATHOMS BELOOOOOOOOW!!!”

~

Meanwhile, another kingdom below the surface, Meeplantica, the royal family was hosting a special concert in the Palace, peformed by the children of King Steven and Queen Bertha. Who was especially excited for this event was Alan Red, a lobster who was the designated royal composer and King Steven’s right hand man, who stayed up many moons writing new symphonies exclusive to the concert. “At last, I finally get to bestow my magnum opus.”

The anticipating crowd where greeted to the stage opening up revealing three large clamshells, with Alan raising his wand and the band began to play as two clamshells revealed the two eldest siblings, Damien and Amy, who harmonized: “Ah, we are the children of Bertha and Steven, great mother and father who raised us well!"

The third clamshell opened to reveal the youngest sibling…or at least it was meant to. The crowd gasped in shock as Alan has to do a double take in disbelief, Amy was holding back her urge to throw one of her classic primadonna tantrums in front of the crowd and Damien rolled his eyes knowing this concert was gonna hit a snag. Queen Bertha flipped out screeching hysterically while agonizing over where her youngest could be and King Pimling raised his fist and his trident to the sky shouting the name of his youngest in rage: “WHY THAT LITTLE-!!!!”

~

Within the outskirts of Meeplantica lay a shipwreck from long ago which would be collecting a lot of dust if it wasn’t literally underwater. Visiting this once bustling vessel was a cloaked sea critter carrying a tote weaved in kelp accompanied by a green guppy with a protruding snout, The critter wiggled his tail in excitement. “There it is, Glep! Isn’t it fantastic!?” As Glep finally caught up to his energetic and spontaneous friend, he got a good gander at the decaying exterior of the destination his friend had been hyping up all day…and he was disappointed to say the least. In a high pitched nasally gibberish he asked: “Eskewafibbyjibbywo! Jazazebayowozoio? (What a dump! Pim, you brought me all the way here for this?) Pim reassured: “It’s what’s on the inside that counts! Think of all the amazing things land critters have made that are just lying around under appreciated and unused…” he monologued whistfully while gazing through the window as some of his dark pink hair curls spilled through his hood. “I hope you’re not getting cold fins…but if you are I can stash you in my satchel for safe keeping.” Glep wasn’t scared as he was unimpressed, but he couldn’t leave Pim behind since he liked the guy. “Jazazewabozoyoboio. (Thanks, but I’ll stay here and watch out for sharks)” “Alright, this will be quick, I promise!” said Pim as he swam through the window and did a graceful twirl and a soft hum as he browsed through room-by-room. After acquiring some odds and ends like a pair of golden cuff links, opera glasses, a high heel and tons of silver wear, Pim finally came across an orient box gilded in gold. The ever curious mercritter popped the box open to reveal strands of stone beads and chains as well as a figurine of a couple holding hands almost as if they where dancing, just then Pim noticed the key on the back and wound it up, out came “twinkly” music and the couple finally started “dancing”. Pim was so mesmerized he fell into a dreamlike state with a tinge of envy over how both dancers had feet, humming to the ethereal tune. Once the tune stopped and Pim was about to wind the key up again, he heard Glep squealing in terror and immediately looked around crying out: “Glep! Where are you little buddy?!” He swam closer to where the sound was coming from and when swimming to the next sector of the shipwreck, he was greeted to Glep frantically swimming away from what wasn’t a shark but what could only be described as a “abyss demon”. Tall and spindly with what appeared to be a head with horns resembling coral branches and piercingly cold ocean-blue eyes staring into one’s soul. Pim grabbed Glep and swam for a way out of the abyss demon’s sight. Pim forgot the crucial advice from his grandfather from when he was just a little tadpole: “Don’t dive too deep into the abyss…you’ll get lost!” Oh if only he didn’t have a hard time remembering little things like that AND an addiction to thrills. He could hear the voice of his stubborn father nagging at him that he just doesn’t learn or listen. Pim slipped out another window and as the demon followed, only for Glep to slam it shut in his face and blow a raspberry at its squished face as he followed Pim away from the scene.

On an island surrounded with a collection of various discarded “human and land critter stuff”, another pink mercritter was casually chilling out while marveling at a crystal sphere slowly whispered in awe: “Nooooo waaaaaay…” He then heard two familiar voices coming closer to his ol’ swimming grounds. Looking into his scratched-up telescope, his smile turned into a grin as he jokingly shouted: “Yoooo mercritter on the looooose!” While waving his hand to signal his youngest cousin and his friend. Pim squealed back and frantically waved: “Hello Graham Nelly!!” Glep followed suit with a cheery: “Skawabezewayo (S’up bruh)?!” While the green guppy never liked how cold, conceited and haughty the rest of Pim’s family was, he did take a liking in his out-there cousin. He opined in his head: “If only the rest of the royal family where as cool as Pim and Graham”. Pim swam towards the sandy shore of the island where his cousin sat, going off: “You wouldn’t believe the adventure me and Glep had today!” as he opened his satchel and took out each item from the haul.

…

Graham laughed at Glep explaining his POV of the morning recap while he closely analyzed the treasures Pim unearthed, he observed a particularly fancy dinner fork engraved with the initials “M.P.” and declared: “Congratulations, my lucky friends, for you have found a dinglehopper! Actually there are a lot in this bag but this particular one is a certified righteous find.” The ever curious Pim of course asked: “What’s a dinglehopper?” “Dinglehoppers are what land folk use to comb their hair, I’ve seen fancy ones like this used by rich folk, but usually they’re more enlongated than this. It’s perfect to carry around and show off at events like parties and concerts!”

The last word had Pim remember something he was supposed to attend to earlier…but completely forgot which day it was. The small mercritter panicked: “Oh no the concert is supposed to be today! I think….Daddy’s gonna kill me!!” as he grabbed all his stuff and added: “I’ll see you later, thank you!!” Pim swam off in a hurry with Glep tagging along. “Catch you by the tide, kiddo!”

~ Back in the Abyss, the skeletal remains of a whale was permanently beached to the ground, inside was the dingy lair of one such infamous sea warlock who was as short-and-stout as he was also, to put it mildly, kind of a stinky little shitbag. He gazed upon his crystal ball watching Pim and Glep on their way back to the palace while grabbing a bowl of tiny crustaceans and crunching them between his teeth as he waited for the fireworks to light up. “Yeeeees…it’s all coming along nicely….one more piece to fall into place until I strike-“ his slow-witted henchman interrupted with a smartassed remark: “Say Grim, what are we gonna do tonight?” Grim gritted his teeth in frustration and replied: “The same thing we do every night, Gnarly: plot to snatch my deadbeat uncle’s trident so we can try and take over the seven seas!!!”

CHAPTER TWO DROPS NEXT WEEK

[theladyofshalott1989]

"I just realized something. I don't even know your middle name," Damien said with a chuckle as they strolled down the path out of Hogsmeade.

It was a dreary Saturday with the occasional scattered rain shower. Damien had asked Sebastian along for an afternoon stroll—weather be damned.

"Guess," Sebastian teased. He shook his head, water droplets flying from his hair and splattering Damien.

"Hey!" Damien protested, playfully jumping away from him.

Damien scrutinized Sebastian's face carefully from afar. "Hmm. You strike me as either a James or a Balthazar."

Sebastian let out a hearty laugh. "A James or a Balthazar? Those are such wildly different middle names. Although I quite like James."

"I had to make certain I covered both fronts: traditional and absolutely bonkers."

"Right," Sebastian said, straightening his tie. "Well, you're wrong. It's Cornelius."

Damien snorted. "It is not!"

Sebastian tossed him a sly grin. "You got me. It's Nicolas, after Nicolas Flamel, the famous alchemist. My mother was completely obsessed."

"Sebastian Nicolas Sallow. That's got a nice ring to it," Damien said, returning his grin.

"Your turn to share." Sebastian cast a quick glance at the sky as more raindrops splattered on his face. Damien had wandered off to his left to inspect an elaborate stone circle on the ground. Instead of responding to Sebastian, he cast Revelio.

"Well, that's one way to avoid sharing," Sebastian muttered, effectively breaking Damien's concentration.

"Oh sorry, no. I somehow missed this Merlin trial the last time I came through."

"Ah yes, a Merlin trial," Sebastian said sarcastically. "I definitely know what that is."

"You don't know what it is?" Damien seemed genuinely surprised.

"No, but I'm going to guess it involves summoning a sword with a wave of your wand or something equally ridiculous. Am I close?"

Damien laughed. "You know, that would make a lot more sense, but no, they're a series of puzzles scattered all over Scotland that you can solve. You've really never heard of them?"

"I swear on my word as a gentleman," Sebastian said with a smirk, bowing ever so slightly. "What do you get out of solving them?"

"The satisfaction of solving it?" he replied, his cheeks flushing slightly.

"That's it?" Sebastian guffawed. "You really are a true Ravenclaw. Have at it then." He nodded toward a cluster of trees further down the path. "I'll be over there if you need me."

[ Excerpt from Ch. 24 ("Quips & Tussles") of Like Moths to a Flame ]

[sweet-self-indulgence]

What are they buying at the sex shop?

Mika

Is open to try pretty much anything.

Fantasies are more along the lines of polyamory/gangbang

Double or triple penetration? Hell yeah!

Multiple orgasms/over stimulation? Yes please!

Practical and would gravitate more towards lube or ergonomic pillows and furniture

Mika would buy a vibrator but would be nervous about a dildo

Femboy! Mika would buy a small dildo or butt plug

James

Heads straight for impact play. Would probably prefer paddles to a flogger or crop, but studiously tries them all.

Side note: would happily use his palms but absolutely not his belt

Is interested in bondage and would gravitate towards silk ropes over cuffs

Is absolutely making sure everyone gets the correct lube for their toys

Erik

Is familiar with most of the stuff.

Would want to try the more exotic or unique items.

Violet wand is a bust

Nipple clamps are fun

Would absolutely love sounding Femboy! Mika

Super into lingerie especially silks and lace

Would buy so much for Mika

Not so much metal or leather.

Sam

Intrigued by leather but it doesn’t do it for him as much as he thought it might

 He’s the most attached to his demon heritage so wearing extra stuff feels strange to him

He would get himself a dildo. But he would be such a diva about it.

It has to be big enough to ‘challenge him’

(no one’s sure what he means by that).

Would want the most monstrous-shaped ones.

Matthew

He is so into roleplay. Costumes aren’t required but are fun!

I don’t think he’d be super into pet play per say, more like anime catgirls

Thinks a body pillow of his favorite character is adorable

Butt-plugs with tails!

Would love it if Femboy! Mika wears slutty nurse, slutty schoolgirl type clothes

He is the most likely to enjoy a vibrator, but wouldn’t have picked it out for himself.

A lot of his kinks are more oriented towards his partner doing something so he’s buying stuff with others in mind.

Damien

He’s super into porn.

It satisfies his voyeuristic streak without him having to worry about other’s wanting to keep their activities secret from him.

He likes watching with partners to get them turned on.

He would buy and use a sheath, but more in a service top way than something he’s into on his own.

It can help with some of his sexual assault traumatic responses

[waterfall-ambience]

re: perpetua, is there a reason why it’s a key rather than a crystal or anything else lol

The doylist explanation is just that I think ornate, plot-significant keys are just really cool LMAO.

From a character design standpoint, I wanted Luna to have a signature 'weapon' of sorts (to match Damien's rapier), and him wielding a giant key that essentially functions as a picky magic wand just felt right. Giving him a traditional weapon like a sword or a gun made him come off as too...militaristic, if that makes sense. It didn't mesh well with his mild-mannered temperament.

But in-universe? The key isn't practical at all. It can't unlock anything. It's too short to be a sword and too big to be used as a knife. The shape at least helps direct the embedded star crystal's energy, but that's about it. Augustin (Luna's younger brother) and Edward (the Wither King, pre-corruption), chose the shape because it symbolised freedom, and a way to go beyond the limits of what humanity could do.

At the end of the day, it's just a big, powerful, functionally useless ornament that Luna carries around because he feels he can't let it out of his sight. It's kind of ironic that Luna is trapped by the very thing that was intended to be a symbol of freedom.

[starsrshiney]

(Cardcaptor Damian AU)

When Damian says Windy and Gale, what's his crazy reaction after the other 85 Cards got release?

What's his first reaction to Kero and Momo?

How did he got the Staff of Dreams?

He'd probably be trying to figure out what was going on. He is a bat-detective. He probably got the gist of 'saying wind words on the cards caused wind to happen.'

Probably also checking on what happened to the rest of the room because Gale, unlike Windy, is an aggressive, attacking card. So while the other cards were being scattered Gale was probably causing kamaitachi like wind blade damage to whatever room Damien was standing in.

Damien would probably be stone faced while looking at these two plush toys, but would mentally categorize them as cute animals.

He'd get the key by being appointed by Kero, much like how Sakura got the original bird wand. But would it be the key/ staff of dreams? Well, the chant would probably still be about the power of dreams, but if this is going full CCS do-over, the key would have been custom made by Sakura for Damien, like how Clow made the bird rod specifically for Sakura.

[cynical-demon]

Damien:

Each time I challenge, he responds

He takes the bait as if he's taunting me

He waves a hundred magic wands

And soon a hundred men just cease to be

I haven't figured out just how

He doesn't kill them with a knife or gun

But if you ask me here and now

I'm pretty sure that Kira is your son

Royce:

I wonder, is this guy for real?

I wonder, is he who he claims to be?

And if he is, then what's the deal?

Why would he make a point of telling me?

Damien:

He doesn't rattle easily

He's such a calm and cool collected guy

And if he kills while he's with me

Like it or not, I am his alibi

Both:

All or nothing, so let's get to it

This time's stalemate, but just you wait

Clock is ticking, so let's just do it

Let's begin, thick or thin, lose or win

This is it

Royce:

His name is obviously a fake

So he inoculates himself from me

He's waiting for my first mistake

So I'll wait also, but more patiently

Damien:

Just like two actors on a stage

Go through the motions that we both rehearsed

Our little new atomic age

Eyeball to eyeball, we'll see who blinks first

Both:

All or nothing, so let's get to it

This time's stalemate, but just you wait

Clock is ticking, so let's just do it

No taboos, light the fuse, win or lose

This is it

Sabrina:

I know you're gonna love my brand new song

It's full of private little hidden clues

So we can find each other in a crowd

And when we do, you know I'm yours to use

I feel like we were born for just one thing

I know we're gonna be a perfect fit

You'll be my heart and I will be your eyes

It's me and you forever

This is it

Royce and Damien:

All or nothing, so let's get to it

This time's stalemate, but just you wait

Clock is ticking so let's just do it

Damien:

Let's begin

Royce:

Light the fuse

Damien:

Go all in

Royce:

Win or lose

Damien:

Lose or win

Both:

This is it!

[hookyandjojoanduhh]

the context of this makes it the single funniest panel in hooky

[veneli]

Incorrect Quotes with the DAMN Polycule

cw: LONG POST. Includes references to the Imperium AU and Inversion incident, otherwise it's just the gang on crack <3

Damien: what's that in your hand? Freelancer: Tea. Damien: what tea? Freelancer: ... tea-quila.

-----

Huxley: come on guys, why can't you see things from my perspective? Lasko: *climbs a tree* Freelancer: *stands on the counter* Damien: *stands on a chair* Gavin: *floats to the ceiling* Hux: ......

-----

Lasko: Let's play a game where you tell people things that they deserve to hear. Damien: Okay, I'll go first. You deserve rest amidst the things that you do for us and for DAMN. Lasko: wait- Huxley: you need more hugs and kisses and a break from reality. Lasko, choking on his tears: stop- Gavin, picking him up: you need sleep and no more coffee, your work won't be gone tomorrow morning. Spend some time with us tonight. Freelancer, closing the blinds and lighting fragrance incense: We're always here for you, whenever you need it. Lasko: *sobbing* I love you guys so much-

-----

Damien: WHY IS THERE A 3000 DOLLAR CHARGE ON THE CREDIT ACCOUNT??? Gavin, strutting around the foyer in new platform heels and a tailored suit: But Damien, I'm a mAtErIaL gOrL

-----

Gavin: Nice pants, Lasko. Lasko, a little confused: thank you? Freelancer: They'd look better on Damien's floor. Damien, sputtering on his coffee: are you flirting with Lasko fOr mE?!

-----

Huxley, waking up one morning to Lasko making everyone coffee while already chugging his 6th: why are you up to early? it's the weekend.

Lasko: Not trying to brag or anything, but I can wake up without an alarm clock now simply due to my crippling and overwhelming anxiety, so... Cappuccino?

-----

Damien: You're a loose cannon, Freelancer. Freelancer: No, I'm not. I'm a cannon maybe, but a loose cannon? Is that what you think of me? Huxley: I think you play by your own rules. Gavin: No way, they think rules were made to be broken. Damien: Those are all attributes of a loose cannon. Freelancer: No, I'm just a reckless renegade. Lasko is a loose cannon. Lasko: *swept up by his own windstorm*

-----

Freelancer: So uhhh... my question is: our boyfriend keeps on going into the pantry and grabbing handfuls of fettuccine... uncooked... Huxley: I would hope he's not grabbing handfuls of cooked fettuccine! Damien: In our pantry?! Freelancer: Yeah... and eating them raw, and he keeps calling them 'chips'. ... How do we make him stop? Hux: Is he here? Freelancer, motioning to Gavin as he walks into the room, crunching on something: Yeah. Damien, to Gavin: w h y.

-----

Huxley: We need more help. Maybe I should call my friends. Lasko: ... Your what? Hux: My friends. Damien: Is he saying “friends”? Gavin: I think they're being sarcastic. Freelancer: No, no, no, this is delirium, they've cracked from being awake all night. Hey, Huxley! All of your friends are in this room. Huxley, dialing up Xavier: I have other friends! You asked me to make new friends, I made new friends! It was a task. I complete tasks.

-----

Gavin: Looking left cause you don’t treat me right Lasko: Looking right because you left Huxley: Looking up cause you let me down Freelancer: Looking down cause you fucked up Damien: What is wrong with you guys

-----

Damien: What’s something you guys are better than Lasko at? Gavin: Mario Kart. Freelancer: Yeah, video games. Huxley: Emotional vulnerability.

-----

Lasko: Good responses for being stabbed with a knife? Hux: Rude. Damien: That’s fair. Gavin: Not again. Freelancer: Are you going to want this back?

-----

Lasko: There are seven chairs and ten kids. What do you do? Damien: Have everyone stand. Huxley: Bring three more chairs! Gavin: The most important ones can sit down. Freelancer, just about done with babysitting: Kill three.

-----

Damien: Poison is a magic transmutation potion that turns people into corpses. Freelancer: This knife is actually a magic wand. Huxley: Meet me in the Denny’s parking lot for a wizard duel. Gavin: *cocks gun* Magic missile. Lasko: What the fuck is wrong with you people. Count me in I'm bringing my dragon.

-----

Gavin: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me? Damien: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it. Freelancer: Three of us saw it, Damien. How do you explain that? Damien: *points at Huxley* Sleep deprivation. *points at Lasko* Paranoia. *points at Freelancer* Coffee addiction.

-----

Gavin: Alright, if Damien was a GPS.

Lasko: good job, genius, you just ran a red light.

Hux: the EAST EXIT THE EAST EXIT NOT THE NORTH oh my god this is the 5th time around this roundabout-

Freelancer: you moron, the store is on the corner of 9th street and Moon Avenue, do you still not know your geography?

Damien: I would self-navigate if I could. You all don't know how to drive.

-----

Freelancer: I’m an idiot. Damien: Gavin: Lasko: Freelancer: Damien: If you’re waiting for us to disagree, this is going to be a long day.

-----

Damien: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast? Freelancer: Several traffic violations. Gavin: Three counts of resisting arrest. Lasko: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks. Huxley: Also, that’s not our car.

-----

(suggestive)

Freelancer: Is having a penis fun? Gavin: It has its ups and downs. Huxley: Sometimes it’s a little hard. Lasko: It’s a pain in the ass. Damien: Oh, Jesus, fuck, guys, come on.

-----

Freelancer, trying to convince Damien to join the group: You know... I thought it'd be good to have someone come along who's really... strong! Lasko: And loud! Huxley: And grumpy! Gavin: And a really good cook! Damien:

-----

Huxley: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything? Gavin: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies Lasko: Socks are Feetie Heaties Freelancer: Forks are Stabby Grabbies Gavin: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties Lasko: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies Freelancer: Stamps are Lickie Stickies Damien, annoyed: You are disappointments

-----

Freelancer: What did you guys get in your yearbook? Gavin: 'Prettiest Smile' Lasko: 'Nicest Personality' Damien: 'Most likely to start a bar fight' Huxley: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

-----

Freelancer: Where's Gavin, Lasko, and Damien? Huxley: They're playing hide and seek. Freelancer: Where? Huxley: I don't think you get how this game works.

-----

Freelancer: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the items you have lost throughout your life Gavin: Self-esteem, haven't seen you in years! Lasko: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this! Damien: I knew I lost that potential somewhere! (Imperium)Huxley: My moral code, is that you? Freelancer: Freelancer: I was just gonna show you this cool trunk my mother left me but do you guys need a hug?

-----

Freelancer: Good morning. Gavin: Good morning. Lasko: Good morning. Damien: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit. Huxley: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS HOW ARE MY BROS DOING

-----

Freelancer: Are we really going to let Gavin keep Lasko? Damien: We kept Huxley.

-----

Freelancer: I can explain. Damien: Can you? Freelancer: If you give me thirty seconds to think of a lie.

-----

Gavin: Change is inedible. Lasko: Don't you mean inevitable? Gavin, spitting out coins: No, I did not.

-----

Damien: Stop buying plastic skeletons for Halloween! It's terrible for the environment! Gavin and Lasko: Yeah! Locally sourced, all natural skeletons are much more environmentally friendly!

-----

Freelancer: I'm a reverse necromancer. Damien: Isn't that just killing people? Freelancer: Ah, technicality.

-----

Gavin: You're right. Damien: That's... That's an unusual phrase for you. Did you just learn it?

-----

Damien, talking to Gavin on the phone as he drives home after shopping: Did you preheat the oven like I told you to? Gavin: You bet! Damien: At what temperature? Gavin: 535. Damien: That's the clock. Gavin: Damien: Gavin: 536.

-----

Huxley: Man, I only ever see you awake, do you ever shut down or stop running? Lasko: Oh, I’m always running Lasko: The question is from what

-----

Lasko, watching the news: Someone tried to fight a squid at the aquarium today! Damien: *walks in covered with ink* Well, maybe the squid was being a dick.

-----

Freelancer: I’m gonna need a human skull and I can't have you ask any questions why. Damien: Only if you also don't ask why Damien: *Pulls out 7 pristine human skulls* Take your pick. Freelancer: Damien: Freelancer: This one is fine

-----

Gavin: You love me, right, Damie? Damien: Normally, I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don’t like it.

-----

Freelancer: WHAT’S YOUR TYPE Gavin: Anything, honestly, but scholarly people especially Lasko, desperately, as Gavin bleeds out: YOUR BLOOD TYPE Gavin: Oh! B positive. Huxley: DONT TRY TO CHEER ME UP JUST TELL ME YOUR BLOOD TYPE Gavin: Damien: I called the Healers they're on their way

-----

Huxley: OH MY GOD WHY ARE YOU HERE You DIED Gavin: I even went to your funeral Xavier: Death is a social construct, now I brought patties and sausages, can we have a pool day?

-----

Imperium!Gavin: *Gets down on one knee* Imperium!Lasko: Oh my god, it’s finally happening. Gavin: *Falls over* Lasko: The poison is kicking in.

-----

Damien: I’m going to take you out Gavin: great, it’s a date! Damien: I meant that as a threat. Gavin: See you at five!

-----

Freelancer: Do you take constructive criticism? Gavin: I only take cash or credit.

-----

Damien: *Walking in to a room* Sorry I’m late... I was... doing things. *Sounds of running footsteps progressively getting louder* Gavin: *Out of breath* HE PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKIN’ STAIRS.

-----

Freelancer: Date someone who will drag you outside at 3am to look at the stars. Damien: If anyone, and I mean anyone, wakes me up at 3am to go look at the damn sky they will be removed indefinitely from my life. Gavin at 3am: Damie come watch the stars with me Damien: you're one of the exceptions.

-----

Freelancer: I want to wake up with you every day for the rest of our lives Damien: I wake up at 4:30 AM Freelancer: Freelancer: I want to see you at some point every day for the rest of our lives

[thethreebroomsticksficfest]

Electric

Day 4 is a second submission from our Christmas Queen @hinnyfied, read it on AO3 here

Title: Electric

Author: Hinnyfied

Pairing: Albus Severus Potter/OC Male Character

Warnings: N/A

Prompt: #6. Mistletoe

Al’s head was so fuzzy after an afternoon of complex transfiguration theory that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to retain another piece of information again. His best friend Maeve sauntered alongside him, equally overwhelmed by their workload leading up to the winter holidays.

“Can you believe we have to write that massive essay on top of studying for exams?” she said, twirling the purple-dyed ends of her long blond hair anxiously. “We’re not even OWL students yet and it’s already this intense. Can you imagine how bad it’ll be next year?”

“Don’t talk to me about bloody OWLs. I’m just trying to make it to Christmas,” said Al.

As they walked down the hall, Al spotted Scorpius and Rose emerging from the dungeons having just finished potions class with the rest of the fourth year Slytherins and Ravenclaws. They looked about as overwhelmed as Al felt. He waved to get their attention, but his stomach lurched at the realisation that someone else was walking over with them.

Will strode down the hall, running a hand through his gorgeous chestnut hair and flashing Al a crooked, dimpled smile. Oh come on. It’s like he’s doing this on purpose, Al thought, smiling back in what he hoped was a totally normal, definitely-don’t-want-to-snog-you sort of way.

Scorpius sighed as he reached Al and Maeve. “We’re going to the library to start working through our mountain of homework,” he said. “Care to come suffer with us?”

“I’d rather not, but we probably should,” said Al.

“Careful Malfoy,” came the passing jeer of Damien Gallus, another Slytherin, “if you spend too much time around Fairy Potter you might catch his condition.”

Al’s cheeks flushed and Scorpius balled up his fists.

“What does he catch if he spends too much time around you then, Damien?” Maeve snapped, “an ugly mug and a brain the size of a walnut?”

Damien’s hand twitched toward his wand, but Rose had reached her wand faster. “Don’t even think about it,” she spat, pointing it at his chest as Scorpius and Will glared beside her. Gallus settled for a rude hand gesture and left.

Al had known when he came out at the beginning of the term that he was bound to get the occasional nasty remark, but he was immensely grateful to his friends and family, all of whom had his back. During those first few days when people were still buzzing about Harry Potter’s gay son, a fifth-year boy called Al something rather despicable. Unfortunately for him, James had been walking by at the time and overheard the interaction. The resulting bat-bogey hex was enough to give their mother a run for her money, something Professor Flitwick had whispered proudly to James after pretending to tell him off.

“Sorry about Gallus,” said Scorpius sheepishly.

“Oh stop,” huffed Rose. “You don’t have to apologise for him just because he’s in your house.”

“She’s right,” said Al. “He’s not worth it. Let’s just get to the library.”

The group settled into the library a short time later, joining several other stressed-out fourth years. After several hours, their group started to dwindle. Maeve left first to go to gobstones club, Scorpius left next for quidditch practice, and Rose went back to the common room with some of the other Ravenclaws. In the end, Al was left all alone with Will.

Will cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about what happened earlier with Gallus. I should have said something.”

“It’s nothing. He’s a complete git. You didn’t need to say anything.”

“Still. People shouldn’t treat you like that,” Will said. “He shouldn’t treat any of us like that. It’s not right.”

They continued to study in silence, Al completely losing his ability to concentrate when Will reached for a book and brushed his hand against Al’s. The feeling of Will’s soft skin on his own made his scalp tingle. How much longer could he take this? Was it subtle flirting, or was Al reading into things that were entirely innocent? He didn’t even know for sure if Will liked boys, but he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of hope every time Will flashed him that devastating smile.

“I don’t know about you, but my brain is absolutely fried,” Will said sleepily, pulling Al from his thoughts. “Should we call it for the night?”

“Yeah that sounds great. I’ll head out with you” said Al, jumping at the opportunity to take a late night walk with Will. They packed up their books and made their way out of the library.

As they reached the end of the last corridor that separated their paths to the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw common rooms, they paused. Al was about to say goodnight when he noticed Will gazing up at the top of the archway. Al looked up as well and saw a large bunch of mistletoe hanging right above them.

“Huh. Looks like someone’s been decorating,” said Will.

“Looks like it,” Al replied with an awkward chuckle, suddenly aware of the fact that Will had turned to face him.

Al’s heart was thudding so furiously in his chest that he was convinced it would break free from his body at any moment. Will took a step forward and leaned in, touching his forehead to Al’s, their lips tantalizingly close together. Be brave, Al, he thought to himself. He put his hand on Will’s cheek and pulled his face towards his.

Their lips met at last and it was electric, unlike anything Al had ever felt before. He had spent countless nights imagining this moment as he fell asleep, but no dream could ever do this feeling justice. They broke apart and Al was terrified to look into Will’s eyes, certain that they would convey regret, but as they met each other’s gaze, he saw his own joy reflected

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” whispered Will.

“Me too,” said Al.

“Really?” Will blushed, “honestly I would have done this sooner, but I thought…”

“Thought what?” Al asked, still trying to absorb the fact that someone as beautiful, kind, funny, and smart as Will actually fancied him.

“It’s stupid, but I thought there was maybe something going on with you and Scorpius. You’re so close and he’s always making you laugh and...”

“Me and Scorp? He's brilliant and he’s one of my best mates, but I just don’t think about him like I do about you,” Al blushed furiously as the words left his mouth.

“What is it that you think about?” Will asked in a low, gravelly voice.

Feeling bold, Al put his arm around Will’s waist and pulled him close. The feeling of Will pressed up against him sent his heart straight up into his throat.

“Mostly this,” he murmured, pressing his lips to Will’s once again, grateful beyond measure to whoever decorated the corridor.

[the-orangeauthor]

An excerpt from todays chapter- Ibhans POV

“We’re here,” I said as the centre came into view just past the trees. Damien shifted back into his human form, accepting a shirt from Eliza, as we inspected the building from afar.

“What now?” he asked, wiping sweat from his brow.

“Now we just pay them a friendly visit,” I said, standing up straight and rolling back my shoulders. I felt a little more alive, Kyda’s residual pain fading, and I stalked towards the entrance of the centre.

“What you’re just gonna burst right in?!” Riaz yelled, jogging to catch up with me. “You’re crazy!” he yelled.

“Haven’t you heard?” I asked him, eyebrow raised, “it runs in the family.” I slammed my hand into the front doors, and they shook in their hinges as the locks cracked. I pushed the doors open and slipped my wand out of its holster on my arm. I pointed it to a guard stood at the reception desk.

“Now, don’t piss me off,” I warned as I walked over to the desk, “tell me where Kyda is,” I told him.

“I can’t do that, sir I—” I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him over the desk.

“I told you not to piss me off,” I hissed and Riaz leaned on the desk beside me.

“Its true, you shouldn’t, he almost killed me once over a little friendly competition,” he said, rubbing at faint bruises on his neck. The guard raised his hands in defeat and I let him go so he could check his computer to find her.

“Oh, the werewolf, she’s going to be transported to…” the guard trailed off, stepping back from the desk.

“To where?” I asked, leaning closer anyway.

“The execution wing,” he said, swallowing hard. I took a deep breath, cracking my neck as I adjusted the grip on my wand.

“Take me to her, before I execute you right here.” He was out from his desk in an instant, leading us down hall after hall.

Feral Ibhan feral Ibhan FeRAL IBHAN-

[theladyofshalott1989]

Hogtober, Day 29: Crossed Wands

Sebastian shrugged. "He's got skills, but I think I'll be able to beat him if Lucan recruits him for Crossed Wands."

Ominis looked skeptical. "He beat you, didn't he?"

"Come on, Ominis. I was just warming up."

"If you say so..."

"What's his name? Do you recall?" Sebastian asked.

"Hmm...Damien, I believe. Damien Evans."

Sebastian nodded. "Thanks. I'll have to remember that."

⭐ Ch. 1 ("Defense Against the Dark Arts") from "Book One: Like Moths to a Flame" on [AO3] and [Wattpad]

[an-overcaffeinated-npc]

Here we are once again at the end of the season (minus the Christmas episode) and to honestly one of my favorite episodes of Shovelwarewolf, easily in the top 5

Shovelwarewolf S2 E5: Zelda CD-i the Wand of Gamelon

Ok I just got to point out again here, what is the Company's endgame with forcing Ivan to play shovelware we never get an answer. I highly doubt it's to cure Ivan (that also wouldn't be very diabolical), personally my interpretation has been either to permanently make Ivan the Shovelwarewolf to use for scary werewolf reasons or to somehow reverse engineer a way to turn people into monsters

Got to love the Zelda item music

I'm surprised there was never a joke about Ivan stepping on the broken glass

These CD-i episodes have some of my favorite out of context quote that I love to repeat

I just love the animations in this game there is something so charming about it in a weird quirky way

The recorder bit 10/10

The episode has so much foreshadowing, from the inescapable hole quip to the power glove it's so nice

Once that end game music kicks in you know it's about to be the best part of the episode that's right guess who's back! DR. SUSAN ALLY

👏They👏 gave 👏Gwen👏 a 👏gun 👏

and that was so valid

Ok all my jokes (and gay simping) aside this is one of the best scenes for not just Ivan's character but the whole series, Ivan is right there about to do what he has been trying to do the whole time he's been trapped here, beat one of these shitty shovelware games, but beating that game won't do Ivan any good, he has to let it go

The whole time what Susan has been trying to tell Ivan to do is let go, Ivan has been hellbent on beating his curse through the same actions that caused it and it's left him trapped in an endless loop of worse and worse suffering

Whether intentional or not, RE has encapsulated the loop that people who become fixated on their struggles or trauma can fall into mentally making themselves feel worse and worse spiralling ever further down, finishing the Wand of Gamelon won't fix Ivan's curse, it will just push him farther and farther into feelings of anger and hopelessness that the Company thrives off of. It isn't until Susan recognizes this and offers help to Ivan, tells him it's ok to let go of his struggles that he lets go of the game and is able to escape the company and (for a brief period) be free, yeah he still has to deal with his curse but he isn't trapped in that loop anymore

You know I think it really sums up RE that they have this impactful moment with Susan telling Ivan it's time to let go, then immediately have a werewolf mask on Marilyn Monroe joke, just jumping all over the place tone-ly

Ok here's where I want to also touch on my half theory half wild speculation because wtf does Susan have a safe house????

I have no logical explanation for this, she is able to take out a whole probably well staffed security team for a research lab solo, has multiple safe houses, and is heavily implied to be living off radar in the middle of the woods by the end of Shovelwarewolf with a lab and everything??? Who is this woman??

Personally I say she has a military turned rouge background who uses the therapist cover to infiltrate organizations doing nefarious plots but gaining a close friendship to Ivan which is why she's been working on a cure since he showed up at her house in S4

I don't know if I have made this post before but between Susan and Celine (from Damien specifically) that's two women who have said "I can take care of myself" while cocking a gun and frankly I would like more please

Oh my gosh I also forgot about the theory I had about the song Shovelwarewolfs-a-runnin:

So the whole song is basically S1 with the Shovelwarewolf playing mini games, but it says the line his evil ex-employer was to blame,

The Company totally caused Ivan's condition for the purpose of either making monsters or making Ivan specifically into a weapon of some kind and they just wanted to keep pushing him

The theory also goes that this was an ex employee that published this song and that's how Susan found out about the Company and Ivan

Nice little montage of destruction to end this season alongside Ivan driving away

Definitely a better season than the first and really brought a lot of character in really only a half hour of video which is kinda impressive, next up is the 2nd Christmas episode and my indepth theory about the true identity of Santa

[bi-snape]

Pt.3 → Pt.2 that post has a link to the first post and again I do not own these drawing bases, I found them on Pinterest. Also it's possible that Druella may be Evan's aunt so this would make Veles (my oc) her brother.

What happens when Druella agrees to watch over her nieces and nephews. She and her husband keep forgetting how strong Lilith is.

Also Cygnus has learned not to insult his wife even in a joking manner, argue with her, or tell her what to do because he will get killed by his nieces and nephews. He learned that after speaking rudely to her one evening while they were visiting.

Cygnus: *says something rude to Druella*

Lilith, glaring at him: Watch your tone Black, just cause my Aunt took your last name doesn't mean you can speak to her that way *grabs an apple, walks up to him and crushes it with her hand* Killing you would simply purify our family, be happy she married you cause atleast then your children will have some intelligence *pulls out her wand* Do you understand?

Cygnus, terrified: *quickly nods*

Lilith, smiles happily: Alright, cool. Also Damien burned down the kitchen

He doesn't like when they visit, he's also simply afraid to say anything.

[a-singleboat]

Locked In

Word Count: 4.1k

Request: great! you’re a really good writer! could I get a Shayne Topp x Reader where they end up doing a bunch of romantic scenes together in a sketch, like slow dancing and a nice dinner and the cuddles, and you guys have been flirting constantly for months and after the shoot Damien, Court, Ian and everyone lock you two in a room because they’re TIRED of it not going anywhere - @mrtopphaasmyheart​

A/N: this actually turned out a lot longer than i thought it would... sorry not sorry!

It was Saturday night when they emailed out the filming schedules for the upcoming month. You were sitting at home, reading a book and being “insanely boring” as your friends had so eloquently put it. 

But as much as you had wanted to go out with your old college friends, that week of filming had really taken a toll on you and your body. Now, as a YouTube personality, you weren’t required to do your own stunts due to the fact that stuffed dolls could easily take your place for comedic effect. However, being a former stuntwoman for a few months during college, you loved the adrenaline crashing through a window or two gave you. 

As Smosh’s stunt coordinator, that meant you weren’t on screen as often as your coworkers. Which is why the upcoming month’s filming schedule shocked you. Aside from a Try Not to Laugh and a few Smosh Gaming videos, you were also scheduled in an Every Blank Ever. Namely, the Every Valentine's Day Ever video. 

Considering Valentine’s Day was a little less than a month out, it wasn’t weird that they wanted to get this video recorded and on its way to editing. What was weird was the fact that most of your filming blocks aligned with Shayne Topp’s. 

It wasn’t a secret that you were the group flirt. Next to Courtney, you were both the most notorious for flirting with your coworkers on screen and, in your case, off. 

But with Shayne… It started five months ago. Five months ago, your harmless flirting turned into something a little more than for-good-fun. 

Five months ago, the flirty little winks you sent in his direction meant more than something friendly and the words exchanged turned into something more than just words. But you were sure that was all you. 

There was no way Shayne felt the same for you. After all, he was an extremely friendly guy and he acted that way to everyone. That was your best defense. That he was just really nice. 

You shook your head as if the motion would shake the thoughts from your mind. You closed your book and laptop, shoving both items off to the side. You reached over and clicked your bedside lamp off, settling in for the night. 

You’d figure it out in the morning, you decided, closing your eyes and letting sleep take you off to another world.

The next morning, you met up with Courtney and Olivia for your weekly Sunday brunches. You had settled on a new place, rather than your regular brunch spot. The only difference was this place offered outdoor seating, which was nice despite the fact that it was still January and it was sixty degrees Fahrenheit. 

You guessed you could blame the warmer-than-average weather on global warming. 

“What’d you do yesterday, Olivia?” you asked as Courtney wrapped up her recount on the movie night she had with one of her many siblings. They had gone out to watch The Turning, much to her sister’s amusement and to Courtney’s torture. 

“I just hung out with Sam,” Olivia revealed, shrugging. “Wrote in my filming schedule in my planner.”

You took a sip of your mimosa, nodding along. “Yeah, I had a mellow weekend too.” 

Courtney kicked your foot under the table. “But did you see who you were paired with for, like, eighty percent of the scenes, Y/n?”

You shrugged, setting your drink down. “Shayne? Yeah, I saw it.”

Courtney poked you this time. “For the Valentine’s scenes. You know, the romantic stuff!”

She wiggled her eyebrows as you fought to keep the smile off your face. “We won’t even be shooting those until Wednesday.”

You and Shayne had about three or four romantic scenes in the Every Blank Ever, marked ‘Breakfast in Bed,’ ‘Dinner,’ ‘Proposal’ (which was a continuation of ‘Dinner’), and one unspecified scene. You figured they’d tell you what the unspecified scene was when it came time to film it. 

“So that means you have until Wednesday to fantasize all about it,” Olivia said, wiggling her fingers like she was a wizard spreading magic. 

You laughed slightly, shaking your head. You held up a hand and asked your waiter for your check. You thanked them when they brought over the little black book, shooing off your two friends as they tried to poke fun of you. 

As the baby of the group, you figured a little teasing was warranted. It came with the territory. 

But by the time Wednesday rolled around, you figured your status of the baby of the group wouldn’t help you much. 

Sarah Whittle, one of your bosses, stood near you as you did up your own makeup. She was waiting patiently for the curler to heat up so she could do up your hair, making you feel much like she was your mom helping you get ready for Prom night. 

“You ready for today's scenes, Y/l?” she asked in a teasing manner. 

You rolled your eyes and took a break from applying your mascara to stick your tongue out at the older woman like the child you were. 

“It’s the breakfast in bed scene first,” you complained as you nearly poked your eye out with the wand. “Why do I need to have my hair curled if I just woke up?”

Sarah picked up the curler after sliding on the black cloth glove that was designed so that she couldn’t burn herself too badly with the heated stick of metal. 

“Well, you’re going to be wearing a hair covering for this scene so your curls can set for the dinner scene,” Sarah explained before winking. “Plus, it’d be less work for me later.”

Since Sarah had already sectioned off your hair, it made it easier for her to curl the pieces and then pin them up with bobby pins to keep them secure. Once she finished, she reached over and grabbed a patterned shower cap and slid it on over the little bundles of curled hair. 

She explained that the residue heat would essentially act like one of those giant hair dryers that you would sit under at a hair salon, but with less health risks. 

After you were finished with hair and makeup, you were ushered off to costume where you were given a nightgown and a robe.

You thanked whatever deity was up there that you had been provided a robe before making your way to set, passing a dressed up Courtney, who waved enthusiastically at you. You resisted the urge to jokingly throw up the middle finger at your friend, instead choosing to wave back and give a tight smile that showed off your discomfort. 

Thankfully, Ian was the scene’s director, which immediately put you at ease. It wasn’t that you had anything against the others. In fact, you loved being able to work with Ryan. It was just the fact that since coining Ian as your Smosh dad, you found it easier to perform better in scenes like these if someone you had already been emotionally vulnerable with was the one behind the steering wheel.

“Okay,” Ian said, clapping his hands together. “Y/n, you’re going to wake up and maybe yawn a little, and then Shayne is going to come in with a tray of food. I want you to take a bite, and chew through it while pretending you like it. You got that?”

You shucked your robe, handing it off to one of the assistants that were on hand. You gave him a thumbs up before settling into the bed, moving down so it looked like you were sleeping. 

You waited, counted three breaths, before you heard Ian call, “Action.”

You waited two more breaths before ‘waking up,’ yawning and groggily rubbing your eyes. You sat up in bed, moving yourself so that your back was flush to the headboard. 

“Good morning, Sweetie,” Shayne said, pretending to have come through a door. He made his way over to the bed and set the tray over your lap. You smiled at him, imagining what domestic life with Shayne would actually be like.

“Good morning,” you replied, remembering that this was a scripted moment. “What’d you make for me?”

Shayne settled into the bed next to you, pointing at each item as he listed them off. “I made the pancakes I made you on our first morning together, as well as the scrambled eggs that I know you love so much, and I got you some orange juice in a mug with a heart on it that I found from our local flea market.”

You acted like it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you. Putting on a face that would read to the audience that you two were madly in love. “Oh, honey. I love it, thank you!”

You kissed his cheek, thinking nothing of it as you moved onto the next part of Ian’s directions to you. You put a spoonful of eggs into your mouth, making a face at the ‘taste.’

“Do you like it?” Shayne asked, still in character. 

You made a face that was halfway between joy and disgust, acting like it was the worst thing you’ve ever eaten. “It’s great, Steve.”

Ian called for a cut and you reached out beside you as the assistant from earlier rushed to hand you a bucket. You spat out the food, scraping your teeth along your tongue to get the residue egg out of your mouth. 

She handed your your robe next, to which you replied, “Thank you, Julia,” before pulling the article of clothing on. 

Shayne threw an arm around your shoulders as you got out of bed, pulling you back and wrapping his arms around you. You laughed, feeling your cheeks burn with half embarrassment and half oh-my-God-what-is-he-doing. 

“They got us up this early, they can give us a few minutes to nap,” he declared, settling his head atop yours the best he could in the awkward position he had put you in. It was nothing new, Shayne being touchy with you, but this time was different. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint what, but you knew something had changed. 

Maybe it was the fact that you had just filmed a scene in which you both were a couple. The fake engagement ring that sat on your finger reminded you of that. The fact that this was fake. 

“Come on,” Ian scolded, a laugh also written across his face. “The sooner you both get through the next three scenes, the sooner you can go home.” 

You wriggled out of Shayne’s grasp, laughing as he tried to tickle your sides. It wasn’t the fact that you were insanely ticklish, no. It was the fact that his hands on you felt so undeniably right, that your brain had thought of no other reaction but to laugh. 

“Alright,” you surrendered, “I’ll go. I’ll see you at dinner, Mr. Topp.” 

He kneeled on the bed, raising up from his sitting position. He bent at the waist jokingly, a goofy grin on his face. 

“Until then, Ms. Y/l.” 

You gave him a two-finger salute in farewell before disappearing from set, making your way back to hair and makeup. There, Sarah awaited you, anxious to take out the pins and reveal her ‘masterpiece.’

Once your hair was revealed, which did look insanely good, you set to work on applying a modest amount of makeup, knowing that the amount of lights on the set would even out your complexion. 

From years in show business, you’d learned that a healthy medium between your normal everyday makeup and stage makeup was the way to go when filming in a closed set. As far as you knew, you wouldn’t be filming outside or in any dark or enclosed spaces. 

When you were carted off to costume, you were glad to trade out your nightgown and robe with a red dress that really did flatter your figure in the best ways. You gave Lindsay a spin when she asked you to before being carted off to set for the second time that day. 

Luckily, you’d be in the same outfit for the next three scenes you had to film that day, which meant no more back and forth between departments. 

You thanked whatever deity was up there because ten minutes in and the heels Lindsay had put you in were already cutting off circulation to your toes. 

“Okay,” Ian said, and clapped again. It was a habit of his that didn’t look like it was going anywhere soon. “For this scene, we’re going to film the dinner and proposal all in one and splice it in editing and whatever. I’ll stop you if I want to give a little more direction, but you know what you’re doing and so does Shayne.”

You smiled at Ian’s attempt at easing up your nerves. No matter how fake, getting proposed to was always a nerve-wracking experience. 

Shayne walked up to set next, dressed up and looking a little extra fancy. 

You bumped his hip as they set up the scene, threading your arms through his. “You clean up nice.”

He smirked. “I could say the same for you, Y/n.”

You felt the heat rise into your cheeks, hating that Shayne could get any kind of reaction from you. 

You heard Ian call action and immediately started walking. The two of you gossiped about the “hot new Italian restaurant” your boss recommended before arriving at the entrance. 

“Hello,” Damien greeted them, an Italian accent gracing his lips. “Do you have a reservation with us tonight?”

Shayne stepped forward a little. “Yes, Copper. That’s C-O-P-P-E-R.”

“Copper,” Damien repeated, though his accent botched the pronunciation a little for comedic effect. “Ah, yes. C-O-P-P-E-R. Right this way.”

Damien ‘led’ you to your table, though in all reality, the cameras cut as the set changed slightly, the restaurant tables coming in and some of your coworkers coming in to fill the seats around you. 

Damien asked for your order in proper waiter fashion before dashing off to ‘fetch your drinks.’

You leaned in, tucking some hair behind your ear as to not obscure your face from the cameras. “Babe, this place is really fancy. Are you sure you can afford this?”

Shayne scoffed and brushed you off. “Of course, I can afford this!”

He made a joke loudly, and you laughed nervously, looking around and apologizing to the other patrons of the bar as scripted. 

“Babe,” you hissed. “Quiet down, people are staring!”

He scoffed again, doing his little bit before returning to the script. 

“Let them stare!” he announced, climbing onto the table. Your eyes widened as you held onto the table, even though you fully well knew that it was bolted down to the set. 

“Ramona, I am in love with you and have been since I first swiped right,” he declared, putting his hand to his heart. He jumped off the table and leaned over to another table, taking the engagement ring right off an extra’s finger. 

You watched as she acted offended, storming off with her fiance. 

You returned your attention to Shayne, who was down on one knee in front of you. “Ramona, will you marry me?” 

You looked around, acting shocked and repulsed by what had just taken place. You gave it a few moments, waiting for the comedic timing to line up, before bursting out into fake tears and saying yes. 

The crowd around you burst into cheers, you could hear your coworkers clapping and calling out congratulations as Shayne held you in his arms. 

Ian called cut but Shayne didn’t let you go, holding you around the waist with one arm instead of two. 

You saw Ian and Courtney exchanged glances with Damien, but thought nothing of it, enjoying the feeling of Shayne’s arms around you. You looked up at him, staring into his bright baby blues. 

“What do you think the next scene is?” you asked him, leaning into his side. His arm tightened around you.

“I don’t know but I hope it's something to do with dessert,” you said excitedly. 

Shayne cocked an eyebrow at you, causing you to realize the secondary meaning to your words. You slapped his pec, unsurprisingly meeting the hard muscle there, before slapping yourself in the face for not realizing it sooner.

“That’s not what I meant,” you insisted, separating yourself from him. You crossed your arms over your chest as he laughed at what you had said. You ended up laughing a little as well, walking away from the set and kicking off the heels. 

While they were absolutely beautiful, they also made your feet hurt like hell. The assistant, Julia, offered you your casual shoes and you took them, making a mental note to get the woman a gift basket or something sometime in the future. 

Ian came up to you as you were sliding on your Crocs, clicking the toes together happily as your feet were enveloped in the surprisingly comfy croslite. 

“You ready for this next scene?” Ian asked, taking a sip out of his mug. It was nearing lunchtime now, meaning they had less than an hour to film this next bit. 

“Does that mean you’re going to finally let me know what the scene is?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow. He chuckled and patted your back. 

“You’ll figure it out,” he said, clapping your shoulder. “It’s all improv but you’re both extremely great at that!”

You winced at his tone of voice, not believing him at all yet you allowed him to lead you and Shayne into one of the prop closets, already decked out with studio lights and everything.

The presence of the lights put your mind at ease and considering you were wearing a red dress paired with your bright yellow crocs, you crossed your fingers in hopes that they weren’t about to record anything past waist level. 

Ian pushed Shayne into the closet slightly, causing the man to tumble into you. He caught you around the waist while reflexively grabbing hold of a shelf fixed to one of the walls. You felt the heat rush to your cheeks once more, glad that his attention was more focused on making sure the two of you weren’t about to collapse onto the floor right then and there. 

Once he got the two of you back on your own two feet, you wheeled around, ready to confront Ian but was met with a closed prop door. 

You approached the door knob and twisted it, to find that it was locked. You shook it in hopes that this was one of the closets that would just slide open to no avail. You and Shayne were stuck in the closet with one of the hottest stage lights the company owned. 

“We’ll be back in thirty minutes,” you heard Ian call out, the sounds of Courtney and Damien snickering coming from beyond the door. 

“You’re dead, Hecox!” you shouted before resigning. “They’re not gonna let us out in thirty, minutes, are they?”

Shayne chuckled, trying to make the best of the situation. He had already made himself comfy on one of the wooden chests. 

Then, the stage light shut off and that’s when the panic set in. 

“Oh, my God,” you freaked, eyes going wide. The only light was now the half-dead emergency bulb in the ceiling of the prop closet, leaving the both of you in what was essentially the dark. You turned around and started to pound on the door, calling for your boss, Courtney, anybody. At one point, you found yourself calling for the assistant that had followed you around all day. 

“We’re going to die in here,” you lamented, leaning up against a wall. 

Shayne hopped off the chest and came over to you, grabbing your arm and pulling you into his chest. 

“We’ll be fine,” he comforted. “It was probably just a blackout. We’ve been getting them around the studios pretty often recently. They’ll probably come back for us in a few minutes when they realize that the building’s powerless.

You nodded, calming yourself down in his arms. He was right. The crew wouldn’t leave you in here during a blackout… would they?

You started to think about how much of a safety and fire hazard leaving the two of you in here would be and started to panic again. 

“Shayne,” you whimpered. “What if they can’t get back to us? If the building is on lock down then they wouldn’t be able to use their key cards to get us out and I don’t even think Ian remembers where he put the backup keys and--”

You were cut off by a pair of lips covering yours. You let out a muffled noise of surprise, before closing your eyes and leaning into the kiss. Your hands flew to his hair as he pulled you even closer, if humanly possible. 

Now, when someone tells you that the fireworks aren’t real, they probably weren’t doing it right because here, with Shayne, it was like the Fourth of July. You felt the lust, the passion, the absolute adoration for the man that held you in his arms well up inside you until you had to pull away for air. 

You pulled back, struggling to regain control over your breathing. You looked up into his brilliant baby blues and searched for a reason behind what he had just done. 

“Uh,” he licked his lips, “you were panicking and I had to do something so that you wouldn’t pass out or--”

You cut him off that time, standing up on your toes to meet him with another kiss, just as passionate as the last. 

“What was that for?” he asked, when you finally pulled back. 

You bit your lip. “I’ve liked you for a long time,” you finally admitted. “And it sucks that it took our coworkers locking us in a room together that I finally grew up and did something about it.”

Shayne glanced at the still-closed doors. “Yeah, those assholes. Forcing me to get kissed twice by the woman that I am deeply infatuated with.”

He kissed you again, laughing as your lips met. You pulled back and kissed his cheek and then down his jaw, settling one last kiss over his lips for good measure. 

“You know, we should totally fuck with them,” you proposed, a hint of playfulness behind your eyes. “And then go home and figure this out on our own terms.”

Shayne’s eyes met yours with the same intentions behind his eyes as yours. “Are you thinking that I’m thinking?”

You nodded before kissing him again, and again, and again…

It was forty-five minutes later until your coworkers came to your rescue. 

Putting your plan into action, you crossed your arms and turned your head away from him. You were sure there were still black tear marks down your face from when you had started crying earlier, after realizing the power in the building had gone out. 

Ian was the first to apologize upon seeing your disheveled state. Thankfully, he had taken the state of your hair and makeup as a sign you were actually distraught. He apologized, along with the others, for locking you in the prop closet in the first place. 

You told them it was okay and that you just wanted to go home after the ordeal you had been through. 

Surprisingly, you had managed to escape the building an hour later. You met Shayne by your car, giggling as he grabbed you around the waist. He peppered your face with kisses before setting you down, allowing you to unlock your car. 

He entered from the other side as you thanked whatever deity was up there for making today one of the days he had decided to carpool with Damien. His excuse was that he was just going to Uber back to his place, seeing as it wasn’t that far from the studio.

Although that was a load of bull, the two of you were heading back to your apartment to work things out. 

“Those idiots,” Shayne joked as you pulled out of the lot. “They were none the wiser.”

You laughed as you drove away from the building. “I’m sure they’ll figure it out by tomorrow. After all, I’m your ride in tomorrow.”

Shayne shrugged, reaching over the console to grab your hand. “I’m fine with that. As long as I get you all to myself for tonight.” 

“I’m fine with that,” you said, a grin on your face. You would spend an eternity with him if it meant you got moments like these in the future. And you were fine with that.

[doriwrites]

hello, hi, i am back? with a little treat (lol). here, have an excerpt of draconian (if you can tell it was supposed to be a harry potter fic... no you don’t)!!!! meet lucifer, a girl on a mission!!!!!

She's four when mom tells her— "You are cursed, mon amour."

 At first, she wonders it that why I remember hands crushing my throat until there’s nothing left to crush but just as quick comes the no, Lucius says those are just nightmares. So, she doesn’t understand, and when she asks mom what does that mean? mom doesn’t say, because mom likes to do things by halves. Grand-père says it’s because mom’s french, but she doesn’t understand that either. 

 When she goes and asks him what’s a curse? grand-père says, “Something bad that seldom happens to the bad people,” she doesn’t know what seldom means but she thinks she understands the rest of it, so she asks am I a curse? “Ah!” he belly laughs, “Luce, Lucy, my darling Lucifer,” he sings, “You, you are something good that seldom happens to the people at all!” Maybe it’s because he’s french and does things by halves too, or because he’s an adult and they speak in riddles like the sphinx in that story she always falls asleep in the middle of, but she doesn’t understand. 

 She seeks father next and finds him in the sunroom overlooking the gardens, a book in one hand and a glass of not-water in the other. He’s the one who told her what doing things by halves means and he always says the things he means like you look absolutely splendid, wife or Bérénice, my love, I’ve never hated anyone quite the way I hate your father so when she asks him why am I cursed? she’s surprised when he only answers with, “You spoke with your mother,” and needs prompting for more. At length (after three whys and two hows), he gives the drink a longing look, sighs a long breath, and relents, “You’ll find that most things happen for good or bad reasons. And, sometimes, they happen for no reason at all. Your… circumstances are no fault of your own, nor was it your mother’s before you or her mother’s before her.” He stops there, and she doesn’t understand anything. 

 Finally, she decides Lucius is the only one she can trust to answer all her questions. He’s not an adult and only half-french, that has to count for something. He’s in his room, lights off, sprawled over his bed, experimenting on a spell with the wand he prefers to call a sceptre because wand is an umbrella term for wooden magical conduit, damnit! There’s a bird-shaped golden light, winking in and out of existence near the ceiling. She chases it with her eyes until she trips over her own feet, breaking Lucius’ concentration and plunging the room in complete darkness. She hurries to the bed and burries half of herself in the cover and the other half in Lucius’ side. When she asks him what’s a curse? and am I a curse? and why am I cursed? he huffs a little laugh and whispers in a language she doesn’t know until the bird appears again. “A curse is a malignant spell— a bad one, meant to hurt whomever it is for,” he says quietly, “Yours is a blood one. It means you got it from mom, who got it from grand-mère, who got it from her own mother. It also means you are not the curse. It’s in you, not you, do you understand that?”

  She thinks she does. “What the curse?”

 “I don’t know, mom doesn’t like to talk about it, I think.”

 The bird flies around the room and bathes Lucius in gold and she wants to say sometimes, I remember dying and sometimes, I remember you being a bad person but most of all she wants to tell him when I remember you being a bad person, I'm never there to stop you. She swallows the tightening of her throat, bites down the wobble of her lip and blinks away the burn in her eyes instead. She keeps watching the bird, nestled next to her golden brother. 

*

 It happens in dreams. The remembering. When she dies, unknown yet familiar hands around her neck and a blurred face above her own, she thinks I know you. She wakes from these dreams sweaty, throat and heart aching, and a lingering why on her tongue. She even threw up once, and had to clean everything up without telling anyone. She hates these dreams, but she hates those about Lucius more. 

 He’s a bad person, doing bad things to good people, but worst of all, he’s a bad father. There’s a boy who looks like the both of them, dark hair and dark eyes in a pale face, crying alone at night in the room that is Lucius’ now, and having a hard time breathing sometimes, when no one’s looking. There’s also a little girl with bright green eyes, who always looks too serious and too frowny for all the baby fat on her face. She looks like her mother, who’s pretty and elegant and has a nice smile, when she does smile. She doesn’t remember their names, but she remembers their love for eachother. Gentle and quiet, like the afternoon she spends in grand-père’s private library where he reads and she draws. 

 While Lucius is never mean to this remembered family, he is never nice either. He always mutters to his wife that things aren’t working out as planned or this thorn needs to be removed from my side and other things she doesn’t understand but knows mean trouble. He mostly ignores the boy and the girl and when he doesn’t, he’s screaming about you are a Ciar and you do not grovel, you do not bow and you do not beg! From those dreams, she wakes with a start, when Lucius is hit with a fire spell she doesn’t know the name of. She cries herself back to sleep every time. 

*

  She meets (for the fourth time, but the first she won’t forget) mom’s side of the family on a bright summer day. Grand-père is here, as he always is everywhere, and speaks very animatedly to his gaggle of grandchildren. There’s ten, she counted! She doesn’t remember all of their names but knows half of them are french. When mom introduces aunt Céleste, my dearest sister, her brain itches. When aunt Céleste introduces her daughter, Olga, she feels like she’s missing something important. 

 She promptly forgets about it when she’s introduced to all her french-named cousins. Isaure and Isnel are twins, like uncle Auguste and uncle Damien, the latter of which is their father. She gets really confused when she meets Anastase and Anastasie, another pair of twins, but uncle Auguste’s. She mixes their names all afternoon. Then, uncle Auguste introduces her to his other children, Armantine, Aimée and Annick and she thinks weird names and oh, Annick is very pretty. Mom's dead sister’s son, Balthazar, is the youngest of them all. He doesn’t talk and doesn’t walk but he’s very cute. 

 Finally, she meets Olga’s brother, Stanislav. He’s not very nice. “Get away from me, demon.” Aunt Céleste gasps softly, Olga looks down, and his father, a very tall man with a very strange smile, grabs the back of his shirt, “What? Isn’t she just like mother and Olga? Isn’t she a—” His father’s very big hand covers his mouth and she’s left wondering am I a what? 

  She ponders the question while the adults give Stanislav a very secretive talk. She watches aunt Céleste and mom not being a part of it and looking very pale, Olga huddled in her mother’s side, looking equally meek, when it hits her. She gasps and runs to them, “Are we demons? Is that the curse? Why are we cursed? I don’t—”

 Mom hisses and very harshly says, “Not now.”

 “But—”

 “Lucifer.”

 “Mom.”

 “Lucifer.” 

 She goes to a corner of the room and pouts for all she’s worth. Lucius gives her soft looks from across the room and she spies Olga side-eyeing her from under aunt Céleste’s arm. She spends the rest of the day speaking gibberish with little Balthazar and admiring Annick from afar. 

 When they’re leaving and the adults are busy goodbye-ing, Olga hugs her quickly and whispers, “You don’t have to worry about anything for now. You haven’t had your first shift yet.” 

 On the drive home, when she’s interrupted every time she starts a what’s the cu— she burns holes in the back of mom’s head. Father gives her sympathetic looks through the rear-view mirror, and Lucius stares out the window, a funny look on his face. Grand-père, sat between the two of them, leans in after the fifth nudge. She whispers what’s the curse? followed by a what is a shift? 

 He smiles and his eyes shine when he looks at her, “Didn’t I tell you this story before? About the princess, the tower and the dragon?” She shakes her head. What’s a dragon?

 “Papa,” mom says, a sharp look on her face. 

 “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbles. Mom turns back around and talks to father about how Céleste doesn’t look well and her good-for-nothing husband should put a leash on Stanislav before muttering about insolent little— Grand-père leans back in again and murmurs, “Sometimes, the princess and the dragon are one and the same. And the tower, the princess built herself.”

 *

 That night, and many nights after that, she dreams about her french-named cousins. Anastase is never there, though. Not when Annick fires spells after spells at people begging her to stop! please, stop! or when Isaure and Isnel bow so low she’s afraid they’ll break their backs. He’s not there when Armantine sneaks in and out a dark street and Aimée spends her days locked into a dark room. He’s not there either, when Anastasie always looks over her shoulder, face drawn and a worried frown between her brows, or when she cries and rages this is your fault! this is your fault! yours yours yours at the mirror. 

 She sees Lucius sometimes, standing still behind Annick or by Armantine’s side or, worst of all, next to Isaure and Isnel, bowing so very low. But he never comforts Anastasie and he never comes for Aimée. 

 She doesn’t dream about Olga, nor aunt Céleste or mom or dad or grand-père or any adults she knows. She doesn’t dream about Stanislav. But sometimes, she’d dream about soft and toothy-smiled Balthazar. He’s pretty and way older, and she only knows it’s him because she hears a man’s voice says Balthazar when he’s inside a house or out in the gardens or in what looks like a castle or a museum or everywhere. A soft Balthazar, a wondering Balthazar, a sung Balthazar, every kind of Balthazar. And she likes those dreams best. 

  But she can never get it out of her head, how she's never in any of them.

*

   She’s in grand-père’s private library. He reads and she draws near the fireplace. A tower, a princess and, “What’s a dragon?” she asks.

  He looks up from his book, “Well. Picture a snake, but enormous. Bigger than this house. It has legs, sometimes two, sometimes four. But most extraordinary, it has wings! Ah! And it breathes fire! Can you believe that?”

 “Not really…”

 He laughs a little, “Well, well. You must, because these creatures do exist. They exist everywhere and are of every kind! They hoard everything they hold dear, be it riches, knowledge, stories, and even friends!”

 “What does it have to do with the princess and the tower?”

 He looks about the room suspiciously, as if to make sure mom wasn’t hiding in a corner, ready to jump in and hisses at them to stop talking about it! “This story has been told countless times, in countless ways. But what remains is this: in the highest tower of the biggest castle lives a princess. In this very same tower also lives a dragon who protects the princess from anyone who’d want to steal her away. Until the day it doesn’t, because someone, be it a prince or a witch, wants the princess for themselves and kills the dragon for it.” He sighs a long breath and looks into the fire, “Oftentimes, the princess is very happy to be free and marries the prince. But there’s those stories… the ones where the princess, mad with grief at the loss of her only friend, kills the prince in turn.”

 “I don’t like this story. Any version of it.”

 “Oh?”

 “Why does the princess have to be all alone in the tower and why does the dragon have to watch her and doesn’t she have a family and doesn’t it have one as well? And why does she have to marry the prince? That’s yucky. And didn’t you say the other day that the princess and the dragon are the same—”

 “That’s not exactly what I—”

 “Because then if the dragon dies the princess dies with it—”

 “Oh dear,” he conjures his small notebook and the pen that goes with it, “No metaphor for the children,” he writes,”I ought to know that by now…”

 “And what’s the curse?”

 “Ah.” He conjures all his things away and fidgets on his seat a bit. “Luce, Lucy, my darling Lucifer.” He looks at her for a long moment. Then, “You are the dragon.”

 She doesn���t know if he’s still talking in riddles but she doesn’t like it one bit so she screams and runs away to cry it off in her room. Minutes or hours later, a book appears on her bed. She thinks the cover reads draconian curses. 

*

 Now that she knows what a dragon is and what it looks like, she dreams about them, too. There’s one with Lucius sometimes, and he talks to it for long periods of time and the dragon never eats him. Then, she notices it’s because the dragon is shackled and has something like a muzzle around its mouth. Still, Lucius talks to it for hours and the dragon listens. 

*

 She hides the book under her bed and asks anyone who’ll listen to teach her how to read. She already has a tutor, Miss Maz, but it’s the summer and she hasn’t seen her for a while now. So, she sits in the sunroom with father and he reads out loud about po-li-tics and magical laws and she doesn’t understand half of what he’s saying, but her eyes follow diligently the finger he glides under the words. She asks mom to help her decipher the story books they read together before bed and it’s a long and hard process where she stumbles over every letter, but she’s getting better by the day. Lucius takes his role very seriously and says you can’t learn how to read if you don’t know how to write the words and after some serious thinking he gasps do you even know your alphabet? She discovers she’s right-handed and soon knows how to spell three letters words. Grand-père hands her a book called And There Was Fire and there’s the princess, the tower and the dragon. Mom finds her trying to read it once and throws the book right into the fireplace with a wave of her hand before storming out of the library. She’s ready to cry when grand-père flies it right back at her. It looks a little black on the cover and a little funny on the pages but she can still read it. She hoards the burnt book under the bed, with the one called draconian curses, and makes sure mom never finds out. 

*

  She has really bad dreams about her death again. Hands that crush and make a hurt so deep inside her chest she wakes and doesn’t know how to breathe anymore. On the fifteenth of August, she throws up again. She’s shaking and sweaty and she cries for a long time before sneaking into the bathroom and showering by herself. When everything is as clean as it should be, she crawls into Lucius’ room and into his bed. 

  She dreams about him and fire spells and shackled dragons. She dreams about Annick cursing people and Isnel and Isaure kissing someone’s feet. She dreams about Armantine going into a seedy looking shop and Aimée never being allowed out of her cage. She dreams about Anastasie looking longingly down from a window high above the ground. But she doesn’t dream about Anastase or Olga or Stanislav or any of the adults. She doesn’t dream about herself. 

 But she also dreams her favorite dreams. The ones about Balthazar and the boy who never ceases to call him. In of them Balthazar says I know how to end this and he smiles toothy and bright. In others he wonders was this all for nothing? and it’s sad because he is, too, but the voice is always there, comforting. I don’t care it says, or I’ll be with you until the very end, Balthazar and she wakes from those dreams with something a little bit looser in her heart. This’ll all be over soon.