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padme-parker · 4 years ago

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Mizpah // the darkling x f!reader // ch 6

summary: given some time alone to think, the pieces begin to fall into place. you go to confront the darkling be he avoids you at any given cost, until one night you go into the one room you were never granted permission to enter.

warnings: cursing, talks about violence/torture and death, alcoholism

A/N: the truth finally comes out. This is all over the place bc I was trying to rush getting it out. 5.9k+ words and 12 pages later, here we are. not proofread, will comeback later to edit.

ANA KUYA’S voice echoed in the back of your mind as you laid on your cot, calling out for Mal and Alina as they ran away from her. It was the day Grisha came to the orphanage to find out if one of their own had been whisked away into a place like this. You examined the walls, cracks running up and down them. The windows barely opened, and when they did, they let out horrible screeches. Water leaked from the bathrooms, the annoying drip a constant on your mind.

Maybe you should’ve gotten up from your bed and got tested by a Grisha. Maybe then you wouldn’t have had to stay in such a run down orphanage. The Duke was rarely here, so no one really cared about his orphanage no matter how infamous he was. But being Grisha meant leaving Mal and Alina behind, something you couldn’t do because they had become your only family. Besides, Grisha don’t get sick, therefore you weren’t a Grisha.

You could never be a Grisha.

AS you phased into consciousness, you could hear someone muttering something in the background. Your hands were so cold, you reached out for something- anything that could give you warmth. You tried to blink away the blurriness of your eyes, nothing seemed to work. The person rushed to your side, clutching both of your hands in one as the other stroked your cheek.

“Go back to sleep.” He said, brushing your hair back. Closing your eyes, he assumed you had fallen asleep already. He resumed his mumbling, the words slowly becoming coherent as fell back asleep.

“It’s...too...soon..”

THE painful pounding of your heart had subsided as the Grisha left. Mal walked into the room followed by Alina, who was sporting a new wound on her palm that Ana Kuya had scolded her for.

“Come on, get up!” Mal urged, knowing from the look on your face that the pain had already left you.

“Where are we going?” You said eagerly, scooting to the front edge of your bed to lace up your boots.

“To the meadow.” That was all you needed to hear before running out the bedroom door. Mal and Alina’s footsteps padding behind. The three of you started a mildly competitive game of tag, the other two making sure you didn’t exert yourself.

In that moment, you were who you were supposed to be. Three children lying on the field, making stupid promises to each other.

“We can’t hide forever, but we can run.”

THIS time when you find yourself in a field, there’s a man laying next to you. It was the same man from your dream, shoulder length hair and clean shaven face.

“Aleksander?” He lets out a hm, awaiting your question. “Where am I?”

“What do you mean, my darling?” Aleksander- General Kirigan- or whoever the hell he was turned to look at you, laying one of his arms upon your stomach. His hand keeping a firm grip on your waist. From your peripheral view you could see him studying you.

He started with your eyes, taking in their color and your long lashes. He moved from the curve of your nose until he got to your soft, plump lips. You stared at the sky, afraid of what you would see, who you would recognize if you turned to face him.

“We’re at our meadow.”

WHEN you finally regain consciousness, you find yourself alone in a nearly dark room. Only one lantern had been lit up. It was just before dawn, you could see the sun beginning to peek out. Someone had changed you into a nightgown, you didn’t know who it was. Perhaps it was Alina or maybe the Darkling, maybe neither. Either way, you were thankful they decided to change you out of the robe you had fainted in.

With great struggle, you propped yourself up, your elbows taking the brunt of your weight. You crawled to the foot of your bed to put on your night slippers. The rug under your bed only went so far before it hit the cold floor. You slowly made your way to the desk, sitting yourself in front of the mirror.

The magic Genya had performed on you days ago had worn out by now. How long were you out for? The dark circles under your eyes had returned, seemingly worse. Your skin, although already dull, became more dull and pale. Whatever shine you originally had was gone. Your eyes look sunken in. While your hair was frail and also lost the shine that Genya gave it.

“Saints..” You whispered to yourself as you raked a hand through your hair. You were basically a dead person walking. You considered fetching a servant to bring you Genya, but decided against it. Throwing on a robe, you silently made your way to the war room, hoping to find the Darkling there. When you entered it remained empty, along with the bed he usually slept in. You walked the halls looking for one of his oprichniki, yet they weren’t around either.

There was no use in barging into his bedroom when it seemed like he was gone. Plus you didn’t want to invade his privacy knowing that he could have you killed for going into his room without permission if someone had seen you. You spotted one of the palace guards, walking up to him as you placed your hands into the pockets of your robe.

“Excuse me, do you happen to know where the General is?” You asked, staring into the guards eyes.

“He left a week ago, accompanied by his personal guards.” Was all he said, not disclosing why he had left. A week? Had you really been unconscious for a week? This usually never happened to you, not like this.

“Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“In a couple of days.” He said, not giving you an exact day. You quickly thanked him before making your way back to your room to change for the day. The dull ache of your heart was finally leaving, allowing for you to feel more like yourself. You were able to spot the sun in the sky as you finished changing. You thought about basking in its light when your stomach growled loudly.

I suppose I should eat, you thought. It’d been nearly a week since you were able to feed yourself, your last meal being breakfast. You could remember someone feeding you periodically throughout the week, now knowing the Darkling had left, it was most likely Alina. You rang for a servant, asking to be brought breakfast when she arrived. Surveying the room, you decided that the Darkling wouldn’t mind if you did a little retouching.

You moved the table towards the window, wanting to eat in the sunlight without having the harsh winter winds freeze you. Opening the curtain allowed for more sunlight to stream through, a grunt of triumph leaving your lips as you looked at your new setup.

The squeaky wheel of the servant’s cart alerted you of her presence, rushing to open the door before she could knock. You took the tray from her hands, closing the door with your foot as you skipped towards the table, eager to get some food in your system.

The food they had given you was practically the same, sweet pea porridge, a tall glass of water, and a bowl of grapes. It wasn’t your favorite, but you ate it anyway. Savouring the familiar crunch and sweetness of the grapes. Sitting in the sun had left you feeling giddy and warm, excited for summer when you would be able to go out whenever you could and feel the sun on your skin.

It was the same warmth you felt whenever the Darkling touched you, even when you saw him in your dreams, there had always been a lingering sense of familiarness-- and affection. You saw the look in his eyes just seconds before you passed out, the shock as you said his name, the concern visible in his eyebrows. Him whispering, stay with me, please. It was all foreign to you. In fact, his behaviour was strange to you.

You’ve always heard of the Darkling being cold, menacing, someone you had to fear. There were stories of him ruthlessly slaughtering the Drüskelle, using the Cut to separate multiple heads from bodies in a matter of seconds. Yet he welcomed you into his home without a second thought. He fed you, gave you clothing and a place to sleep, even gave you a tour of the Little Palace himself. You were sure he had never given someone the treatment that he had given you, so what made you so different? What made you so special to him?

You didn’t miss the look he gave you when you first entered the war room, recognition and longing bright in his eyes. He tried to hide the emotion, but you were able to catch it before he returned to his dark and empty gaze. It would explain the memories, but only fueled your confusion and curiosity more. Had you shared a past life with him? If so, why were you back? How were you back? Getting lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear the person knocking until they opened the door and announced themselves.

The familiar red hue of his kefta brought you comfort. You were too trusting lately, you’d only met Fedyor a week ago. Just the sight of his kefta had calmed something down in you. This palace was changing you, bringing out something from within you that never existed. Being this trusting on the fields would get you killed.

“Good morning, Fedyor. What brings you here?” You greeted him. This time you already had your boots laced up, the tray in your hands ready to be disposed of on the table by the door. “Going to escort me to combat training?”

“Actually, the General forbade you from stepping foot on training grounds again.” You let out a loud gasp as you whipped towards him. Thinking there was something wrong, Fedyor stepped forward, reaching his arms out to steady you just in case anything happened. In your anger, you slapped his hands away.

“Oh just you wait until he gets back,” You seethed, “Who does he think he is? Taking away my combat training privileges?”

“He’s the General, he can do that.” Fedyor responded, a small smile on his face.

“So what am I supposed to do then?”

“Well, you could still go to the library.” No, you didn’t want to risk running into the Apparat again. “Watch the Grisha train.” He offered a meek smile. “Walk the grounds.” Perhaps you could go on a horse ride later, but right now there was one thing on your mind.

“Is Alina training right now?” The heartrender gave you a nod, “I guess we’ll be going to her room then. She has something I want to borrow.” With the flick of your hand, the two of you were on your way.

“I’m going to ask you a question, and if you don’t want to answer then that’s okay.” Fedyor squints his eyes at you, before motioning to continue. “Has the Darkling ever taken up any lovers?” The question makes Fedyor stop in his tracks, a baffled look on his features.

“Well..I..” He struggled with his words, not knowing if he wanted to tell you. What would the General do to him if he told you? It was common knowledge that General Kirigan had been alive for a couple centuries now, he thought everyone knew of his endeavours. “The General has been around for many years, so naturally he has...had sex before.” The mention of it made Fedyor blush. “But he’s never settled down with someone. The closest I ever saw was with Alina.” This didn’t surprise you, Alina herself had told you about what had almost happened between the two.

“In the tent, when he tested her to see if she was Grisha, I saw something in his eyes. It was admiration, but there was also a defeated look in his eyes. As if he had given up on something because he found Alina. Reasonably, it could’ve been relief, since we had finally found the sun summoner.” Fedyor pauses, thinking wisely about the next words he spoke. “Alina and the General were growing close. Everyone saw the look they gave each other the night of the fete. But any public traces of their affection for each other had disappeared that night. The two are only seen interacting when he visits her for a gradual check-in.”

“And he’s never spoken of any other lovers?”

“Not consciously, no. On the very rare chance where we ride in the same carriage, sometimes when he falls asleep he’ll whisper about a woman. Moya dorogaya, he’d call her. That’s all I know.”

Moya dorogaya, my darling. It was the same name the Darkling had called you in your dream.

“May I ask you a question?” He inquired, you nodded your head, allowing him to proceed. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”

A smile so bright that could light up the room came to your face, “My friends down near the south Ravka border. A pair of siblings that taught me to fight before they defected from the First Army.” You confessed. “One of them also introduced me to my love of epic poetry.”

When Alina’s door came to view, you didn’t bother knocking as she had already left. After fetching what you needed, you quickly exited her room.

“I haven’t seen them since they left.” You rubbed the birthmark at your throat. Besides Mal and Alina, the siblings were also the closest thing you had to family. They considered you as their sister, even begging that you left with them. But you told them your place was here in Ravka, with Mal and Alina.

“I’m sure you’ll see them soon. Once Alina and the General get rid of the fold, we will have access to our docks again.” He said, trying to comfort you.

“I hope so.” The rest of the walk was filled with comfortable silence as you fiddled with the edges of the red book. As you neared your door, Fedyor stopped, telling you he would be just outside if you needed anything. Without wasting another second, you ran to the chair in front of the window.

The Istorii Sankt’ya glistened in the sunlight. Something about it had been calling out to you, urging you to read it and find out more. You flipped through all of the pages of the saints until you found the one that had been calling out to you.

Sankt Ilya in chains. Ilya Morozova. Morozova’s herd.

“One day. When the war is over and the shadow fold is gone, you will bear my name. You will become Mrs. Morozova. I swear it.”

The voice of the Darkling rang clear in your head. The memory made your heart come to a stop as you struggled to find a possible explanation for his words. The only conclusion you could inevitably come to was that you were the sole lover that Fedyor had been talking about.

As the sun began to set, you looked at the drawing once more. The stag, sea whip, and firebird all depicted. You called out for Fedyor, asking him to come into your room.

“Can you bring me dinner for two?” You politely asked.

“Sure, were you planning on eating it yourself or shall I fetch someone while I’m at it?”

“No. You and I are going to have a nice, long talk while we eat dinner.” His face paled as the words left your mouth.

“Oh...okay.” Was all he said before he scurried off to get the food. You tucked the Istorii Sankt’ya under a pile of paper in your desk to hide it. While you waited for Fedyor to return, you lit up some candles and lanterns now that the sun was going down. It was no fun eating in the dark.

Well, sometimes it was. You thought back to the orphanage. Night where you, Alina and Mal would sneak out of bed to have a piece of bread. The bread was never enough, but the excitement had always spurred the three of you on enough to make it a nightly routine until Ana Kuya eventually caught on.

When Fedyor returned, he rolled the cart over to where you had been seated. He placed a golden tray in front of you and another for himself right across from you. He also brought a big pitcher of Kvas for you to share.

Lifting the cover from your plate, you found yourself staring at some sort of meat pie with a side of root vegetable soup. Fedyor had the same meal but had pickled herrings instead of soup.

“Ugh, I don’t know how you eat that stuff.” You said with disgust. “I’m glad you guys don’t force me to eat that.” Although it was common peasant food, it never appealed to you. It was something you’d always hated.

“The kitchen staff have a strict list of foods you like and dislike.” That made your head snap up to meet his, who made the list? You had a scheming suspicion that it wasn’t Alina, leaving you with one suspect.

“Tell me, Fedyor, do you know what the General plans on using Morozova’s Stag for?” You inquired, feigning curiosity. You saw his hesitation, clearly uncertain if he could trust you. “I was, after all, one of the last trackers to spot it.” You reminded

“The stag is rumored to be an amplifier created by Morozova himself. Whoever wears it would hold the greatest power known to mankind. One that could rival the General’s.” He said, taking a bite of his meal before continuing, “He plans on giving it to Alina in order to get rid of the shadow fold. She’s strong, but not strong enough to get rid of it on her own.”

“What about you, do you believe they will be able to banish the fold together?” There had been a swirl of doubt pooling in you. The shadow fold was the one thing that had kept Grisha safe from the rest of the world. With the permafrost in the North and the mountains in the South, Ravka had practically been perfectly disconnected. Yet the Drüskelle and Shu still managed to slaughter Ravkans and Grisha alike.

“Yes, I do. It’s something very important to the General. That the sun summoner reversed what his ancestor, the Black Heretic, had created.” He explained.

“Right, we’ll then what happens after? It’s been so long since West Ravka has been able to connect to East Ravka. Who’s to say that they don’t want to create a monarchy of their own?” Fedyor paused at your words, he hadn’t thought much about what the West Ravkans wanted. He only knew how much his people longed to be free of the shadow fold.

“One step at a time.” He ensured, not sure if he believed the words he just said. He didn’t know what would happen if West Ravka decided to break off and become their own sovereign state. Whatever trade and weapons they had obtained came through the trading ports of the docks in West Ravka. Without it they’d have nothing. They would be nothing.

You finished the rest of your meal, occasionally talking about your time being stationed in the South while he talked about his Grisha adventures. When it came to an end, you helped him clean up and wished him a good night as he rolled the cart away. The pitcher of Kvas laid untouched, your fingers twitched at the thought of having a drink. You stared at it as Fedyor rolled it away, your throat begging for something to drink. Instead of giving into your urges, you chug whatever leftover water you had laying around.

As you got ready for bed, you couldn’t help the strong feeling of loneliness overcome you. You tried to push those feelings away when you jumped into bed, not wanting to have a miserable dream.

WHEN you wake, you find yourself in the deadly permafrost of the Fjerda-Ravka border in nothing more than your lace nightgown. The snow under your feet melted as you walked around, searching for another sign of human life. You didn’t feel the familiar nip of the cold at your fingertips or toes. It was that same warmth you felt with the Darkling.

You caught sight of your own breath as you whipped your head around, the snow catching in your hair. As you stumbled into a tree, you felt the recognizable carving, stating that you were now in Fjerdan territory. Your feet had walked on their own accord, not knowing where you were going until you stumbled into a clearing. The same clearing where Dubrov and Mikhael had died, slaughtered brutally by the Fjerdans. The clearing where you had killed two of their own without a second thought.

The clearing where you had finally found the stag.

The very same stag that had now stood in front of you.

You inched closer to it with careful and calculated steps. It didn’t back away as you approached. It showed no signs of aggression as you laid one of your hands upon its antlers, your other going to stoke its fur.

It was giving you that same look it gave you when you first encountered it with Mal.

Mercy. Respect. Most of all, understanding.

IT had been two days since you dreamt of the stag. You hadn’t dreamt of it since then, in fact, you hadn’t been dreaming of much since you saw the stag in your dreams. You thought about bringing it up to Alina during breakfast, but decided against it, the conversation somehow drifting towards the General.

“I was giving him a report of my progress last night-”

“Last night?” You interrupted, “As in a couple of hours ago?” She nods, confused by your behavior. “When did he get back?”

“The night you woke up.” She replied, as if you had been informed already. No one told you he had returned, you hadn’t even seen him once. Fedyor didn’t even tell you of his return during dinner. With a huff, you got out your chair, moving towards the door before asking Alina one last question.

“When did you mention me to the General?” She gives you another confused look, not knowing what you were talking about. That was the only answer you needed as you made your way to the war room.

He knew you. Even before he discovered Alina and took her to the Little Palace, he knew you first. Your thoughts ran around rampant and unprovoked, trying to come up with a viable explanation as you stomped towards his hall. Before you could even reach the doors of the war room, you were stopped by his oprichniki.

“The General wishes to be alone right now.” She said, hold up a hand to stop you.

“Tell him that I want to speak with him.” You replied, she looked you up and down. You wore no kefta or guards uniform. You were merely just a First Army soldier in her eyes.

“I doubt he would want to talk to someone like you.” Great, you were dealing with a Grisha Oprichniki with a horrible superiority complex. With a scoff, you turned away and walked to your room. Holding back every urge in your body to punch her.

WHEN night came, you found yourself struggling to get some sleep. After your encounter with that rude oprichniki, you tried your best to at least get a glimpse of the Darkling. You tried walking in the gardens in hopes to see him, no luck. You walked past the singular window of the war room, only to find the view obscured by the curtains. You paced the halls as subtly as you could, waiting for him to exit the war room. But he didn’t leave. Not once, so you just gave up and decided to try again the next day.

The black silk of your slip on did little to soothe the irritation you felt. In fact, it seemed to irritate you more as it slipped around even at your smallest movements. With a sigh, you got up from the bed and walked towards the dresser with the intention of changing into something that would provide better comfort.

You ran your hands through all the different laces and fabrics of the nightgowns until it landed on the gold kefta. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try. You took it off it’s hanger, before walking towards the mirror. You examined it closely. The fabric itself had shimmers of gold, the black thread similar to any other kefta. As you surveyed the back of it, you noticed the handiwork of a fabrikator. Someone had tried to mend the rips of the kefta, but they were still visible up close.

The kefta had fit like a glove when you put it on. It gave you a sense of belonging. That maybe as an orphan you had finally found a home. You ogled at yourself in the mirror, the golden fabric had practically made you glow. You placed your hands into the pockets, surprised to feel something in one of them.

Grasping the object, you pulled it out. It was a letter. Covered in blood, dirtied and ripped at the corners, but still a letter nonetheless. You contemplated reading it, making the motion to put it back into the pocket before a thought crossed your mind. It wasn’t like anyone was going to find out.

You opened the letter and began to read it:

Dear Aleksander,

My darling, I don’t know why the universe has continued to bring us together. But I am thankful that they’ve given us a chance to be together once more. I have loved you for all of my lifetimes, and nothing could change that.

At least, that’s what I thought. But you’re no longer the Aleksander I once knew. Something dark has taken over you, your lust for power consuming you. I don’t know who you are anymore.

That’s why I’m doing what’s necessary, you’ve been in power for too long. It’s time for you to stop. It’s time for Ravka to be whole once more.

I’m sorry. I hope with whatever love you have left in your heart for me, that you could forgive me.

Eternally yours,

Y/N

You froze as you saw your name signed at the bottom of the letter. Lifetimes? As in more than one? This could wait no longer. Shoving the letter into your pocket, you threw open your door. The halls were empty, his oprichniki were either on a break or a shift change. Either way, you didn’t care.

You barged into the war room, expecting him to be hunched over a pile of maps, but he wasn’t. The next place you looked was his sleeping quarters that had connected to the war room. This bed was empty too, the sheets still cold. You knew of one last place he could be, and didn’t care about the risks.

You walked towards his door, each step filled with the burning curiosity you felt. Placing your hand on the doorknob, you didn’t expect it to turn. You would’ve assumed he kept the door to this bedroom always locked. But then again you were the only person who would dare enter his room without permission. After entering his room, you shut the door. Not wanting to raise suspicion to anyone who might’ve walked the halls perchance.

You paid no mind to the layout and decorations of his room as you fervently searched for him, only to come up empty handed again. Where could he possibly be? Perhaps he went for a midnight stroll. Or possibly he left the Little Palace again. But before deciding on going back to your room, you were adamant on searching the entire ground for him.

As you made your way back towards the door, your eyes briefly flashed to the portrait above it. You were frozen in your tracks as you did a double take. There in the painting was you, depicted in the gold kefta you had put on mere minutes ago. Behind you was the General, who had one hand clasped around your waist, the other resting on your shoulder. The two of you smiling brightly, it had practically been one of the only other times you’d seen him smile.

The letter in your pocket felt like it weighed a ton, your mouth going dry. In your panicked state of mind, you didn’t notice the shadows jumping up and down the walls.

“My darling.” You never heard him creeping up on you until he started talking into your ear, his whisper making you involuntarily shiver. You could practically feel the heat radiating off of him.

Turning around, you didn’t expect to find his hair dripping wet, with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips. A blush formed on your cheeks as you tried to look at anything but him.

“Don’t call me that.” You spat out, he reached one of his hands out to touch the kefta you had put on. His touch lingered from the black stitching to the collar of the Grisha jacket, his fingers ghosting over your neck. “I’m going to ask you one more time, have we met before?”

The General saw no use in keeping the secret from you any longer; you had worn the kefta he’d made for you centuries ago, most likely read the letter in its pocket, and now you had just seen the portrait he’d hung up of the two of you. It was evidently clear that you knew something was going on.

“What do you remember?” He deflected, not answering your question.

Flashes came to your mind, ones you had dreamt, others were new.

“I remember...my death. The night those soldiers shoved a knife in me.” You confessed. You also saw other things. Horseback riding in the woods. Long nights in bed spent talking about the future. Him training you, teaching you how to wield a sword. The birthmark at your ribcage, the one on your neck, and the long ones on your back. They had all been scars. Marking all the deaths from your previous lives.

Three scars, three separate lifetimes with him. You reached up to touch the scar on your neck, “They..I-”

“This one, the Fjerdans gave you this one. We were hunting for the stag when we had gotten ambushed. They killed you for the sole purpose to see me in pain. I begged them to take me too, but they found too much joy in my grief. The Drüskelle held me on the ground, my hands spread apart, as I watched you bleed out.” You can see the tears form in his eyes as he recalls the events of that night. He walks around you, tracing the rips of the kefta. The rips had consequently been placed exactly where the scars on your back were. You could tell by the familiar pattern he traced, a once soothing action that now caused you great anguish. “The Fjerdans also gave you these ones. They tortured you for days on end. When I finally found you, it was too late. There was no healer that had the power to help you. All I could do was hold you as a heartrender calmed you, minimizing your pain.”

“I can’t remember that, why can’t I remember that?” You panicked, to which the Darkling turned you to face him, his hands cupping your cheeks as his thumbs rubbed your face in a reassuring manner.

“It’s not often that you fully remember what happens to you. It’s your brain's way of protecting you so you don’t get overwhelmed.” Well you certainly felt overwhelmed now. It was all too much to take in at once.

“The shadow fold..” You hesitated, removing yourself from his grasp. “Was that because of me?”

“Yes,” he confessed, “I created it after you first died. A way to protect all Grisha. I didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand. But it was one less threat we had to worry about.”

“I don’t understand. Why me? Why is it always me? Why do I always come back to you?”

“There’s a reason why the universe has continued to bring us back together, my darling. My other half. My life.” He walks up to you, grasping your face in his hands. His touch was different this time, it was cold yet welcoming. It felt familiar. The shadows engulfed the room as you felt a power rush over you. His eyes darted towards your lips, hesitating before leaning in. You close your eyes as you feel that familiar warmth consume you. His kiss is soft, gentle, yet you could tell he was holding back from ravaging you.

He pulls away, resting his forehead on yours. You kept your eyes closed, lost in the memories.

“Open your eyes.” He whispered. When you had closed them, the whole room had been taken by his shadows, leaving the two of you in darkness. But as he stood in front of you, his hands on your cheeks, the whole room had been illuminated. “My sun summoner, I have loved you all of my life. For all of your lifetimes.”

“Maybe one too many.” What else was there to say? You always knew, somewhere deep down inside of you, that there was something special different about you. You didn’t know it until now, until you were reunited with your other half. “But I thought Grisha couldn’t get sick.”

The smile falls from his face, “I believe..that this could possibly be our last lifetime together.” He disclosed. “Neither heartrender nor healer could explain what was happening to you. I think it might be the consequence of avoiding eternal death for so long.” He joked, his eyes meeting yours.

“I thought your last life had been our final one together. I waited hundreds of years for your return. When I had caught wind of a sun summoner being found, I thought it was you. When it wasn’t I felt as if my heart had shattered all over again. That you would never return to me again.” The Darkling squinted as the light around you grew brighter. His touch was making you unstable.

“But Alina-”

“Can’t know. No one can. I can’t risk your life again. Not anymore.” He replied, “Especially when this could be our last time together.”

You struggled to find a name to call him, the General felt too formal, and to you it seemed too early to call him by his given name.

“Aleksander, my darling. Call me by my name.” He said, withdrawing his hand from you and letting the shadows shrink back to the ground.

All your life, you had subconsciously fought the Grisha within you. You had always been Grisha. Using the powers you had been born with had given you back your strength, albeit not all of it. You enjoyed- reveled the rush it gave you.

“Aleksander,” His name left your lips in a hushed whisper, “..what if I want the stag for myself?”

Mizpah tags: @all-art-is-quite-useless @devilxangel @musicconversedance @parabatai-winchester @runawayolives @tartiflvtte @rbg1933 @thatguppienamedbae @batgal96 @thebarisinhell99 @5hundreddaysofsummer @kaqua @queenseneschal @benbarnes-supremacy @princessofpersia96 @takethee @dontjinx-it @freakytillthemoon @amortentiaaaa @marvel-ousnesss @coolninjavoid @areomalfoy @pansysgirlfriend @universalirwin @leavejuliaalone @xx-winwin-wednesday-xx @honeyofthegods @lunamyangel @d-list-goddess @comphersjost @telepathdestiel @the-celestial-kitsune @thestoryofmylife9 @s-corpionem @pancakeisreading @sanna2020 @secretsandtinyshadows @savannah-elliott @maliasblue @tea-effect @disneyandharrypotter @futuristicpinklemur @tanyaherondale @the-puff-is-strong-with-this-one @hxgreeves @yourboiialucard@thereeallink @ladyblablabla @wolfieellsworld @p3nny4urth0ught5 @louweasleymalfoy @the-natureofme @itsloveroflife @oddlittleminx @within-thehollowcrown @itsfangirlmendes @heyyimlaynna @jgtfvhsg @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @auggie2000 @itsnotquimey @jtownraindancer @sonnensplitter @sarcastic-and-cool @poulterfilms @spookybooisa @stickyknightflowerbailiff @hollandsweetie @yungkvte @evyiione @2023-padfoot @kawaiimarshmallow @nikki-sixx-is-daddy @sanktawylan @blackbirddaredevil23 @athenamikaelson @mellifluous-cosmos @mylittlecrazyworldofinterest @iiclarixa @lcandothisallday @agent-jbarnes

Mizpah taglist is CLOSED for now!

S.a.B. forever tags: @deceivedeer

#shadow and bone #grishaverse #the darkling #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #general kirigan #ben barnes

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ratsoh-writes · 3 years ago

Note

What would all the boys do if s/o slapped their ass. UuU

Pfff alrighty *cracks knuckles* let’s do this!!

Under the cut for a few of the horn dogs

Sans: he’ll freeze and his eyelights will go out. When you nervously come closer and asks if he’s ok, sans will whirl around and slap your butt in return. Don’t bother chasing him. He’s already shortcutted away lol

Papyrus: he yelps and will be so scandalized lol. How dare you slap his butt! Well you thought he was scandalized. The booty shorts he wore for the next week straight beg to differ lol. Papyrus will be so sad if you never tap the skelebooty again

Star: with no hesitation, he spins around and slaps a good hand print into your butt. Now you two match lol. Couples who tap the butt together stay together.

Honey: he squeaks in surprise and will back up while holding his rear defensively. But he never tells you to stop. Honey tries slapping you back one day but finds it isn’t for him

Red: instant bedroom eyes. Have fun ;)

Edge: he’s also scandalized, but unlike papyrus who’s too shocked to return it, edge will back SO into a corner and grab a VERY generous handful of their own butt. If you wanna play games, he’ll join you. Be warned

Mal: he LOVED that. Man, mal almost asks you to do it again ;)). You find he wears his ecto around you way more often ;))))))

Cash: he does the most obnoxious hentai moan to freak you out lol

Oak: his eyelights don’t go out, but his red eye does shrink as far as it can go lol. After his shock, oak will sheepishly chuckle and give your bum a firm pat if you let him

Willow: his butt is probably shoulder height to most people so he saw you raise your hand in the air first and caught it before your assault lol. When you explain what you were trying to do, he’s so flustered. So much that he runs away lol

Charm: he also moans obnoxiously loud. Then he asks you to do it again for extra emphasis lol

Sugar: you’re about to take your hand off his butt after the slap, when sugar puts his hand over yours to keep it there ;). If you sure gonna slap his booty, at least appreciate it a little better. He works hard on it!

Lord: he also moans. Then covers his mouth in horror. You broke him lol. Lord is unresponsive. Come back tomorrow

Mutt: “lookin’ for some attention there~?” Oh you’re getting your attention. Mutt is gonna a bruise on each cheek for the booty slap ;)

Wine: he casually stops what he’s doing and turns to you with the calmest pleasant smile. RUN.

Coffee: he squeaks in shock then makes this sort of breathy whine growl before chasing you down. You coffee end up roughhousing until either wine yells at you two to knock it off or you start making out lol

Pop: he also yelps in shock and immediately shortcuts lol. Then you hear that familiar crack noise and pop is back furiously pointing at you. “Y-you! You hit me!! You hit my butt!!”

Rhythm: he only gives a sly smirk and keeps doing whatever he was working on lol. You’ll get a casual pinch later on ;)

Pluto: you only hear a soft eep from him. Then he’s sinking into his hoodie. When you get him to come out, his face will be a dark aqua. So dark that his freckles look light in comparison

Jupiter: he sighs a little in exasperation at first but when he sees that the slap was from you, he’ll perk up and nuzzle your cheek or give a kiss in return. Unfortunately a lot of the gym ladies think it’s ok to tap his butt when he’s trying to do reps. The other jocks do a good job at covering him though

G: harder daddy~!! basically G says the most cringeworthy thing he can think of, then laughs at the look of repulsion on your face

Green: he lets out a soft “oh!” And will turn to give you a half chiding half fond look. He’s trying to be annoyed but can’t really get himself there lol

Peaches: if he was eating something, he’s spat it out lol. Peaches will hiss out whatever pet name he calls you in mock horror. Later in the day you find his hand keeps landing on your rear. he wants to slap back but can’t bring himself to. So he settles for it petting.

Rancher: “YOU DO NOT WANT TO START THIS GAME WITH ME DUCKLING~” you really don’t. Rancher can’t exactly slap your butt back as hard as he wants, so find a much more creative way to get revenge lol

Snipe: he LOVED that lol. Snipe will give that mischievous sultry look that only his SO can ever see. He keeps annoying you all evening in hopes of another pat or something more ;))

Bruiser: you can’t do this to him and not expect to get tapped back. It doesn’t matter how fast you run, bruiser will catch you. And he will slap that *ss

Butch: oh honey. You’re getting pinned to a wall. I’m sorry, no exceptions. Right as you start getting really into the kisses, butch stops and leaves you there all high and dry as revenge for the slap lol

Boss: someone needs to be taught a lesson on manners ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). You’re gonna be sore the next day lol. That’s all I can say

Ace: he bites his lip (lower jawbone?) at you lol. He might wiggle his butt a bit to entice another slap too. You won’t know if ace is actually flirting or just being a goof until you go for it again lol

Slim: he lets out this breathy little whine and look at you with those hopeful eyes. Slim will be devastated if you walk away afterwards. You can’t just give him that attention then leave him here!!

Rust: like red, you’re getting those bedroom eyes lol. Rust is already reaching for a grope

Noir: he’ll take a seat as if he’s trying to steady himself. When you come over in concern, noir suddenly grabs you and pulls you into his lap ;). Hah! Now that you’re caught face his revenge! (Aka kisses)

Lilac: he’s so exited to slap your butt back lol. You can practically see the sparkles in his eyes. Lilac adores it when his SO is playful with him

Basil: he straightens up in surprise but doesn’t squeak like honey. Instead he stares SO down for an almost comical amount of time before smiling and pulling them into a hug. Then pinching their butt hard enough to make them squeak

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spiltblxxd · 2 years ago

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( michael b. jordan ; cis male ; he/him ; pendulum by fka twigs ) hey, look! isn’t that malachi manson? the 30 year old witch is known to be amiable and confrontational. they’ve been in town for twenty years and always remind me of gym equipment, loud laughter, ceremonial candles. let’s hope they survive what’s to come.

- hello everyone (again)! this my other muse, malachi! underneath the cut i have some details about him as well as some plot connection ideas. if you’d like to plot, feel free to drop a like on this post!

GENERAL DETAILS.

FULL NAME: malachi manson NICKNAME(S): kai, mal NAME MEANING: messenger AGE: 30 CURRENT LOCATION: ashwick valley ETHNICITY: african descent GENDER: cis male PRONOUNS: he/him SEXUAL ORIENTATION: pansexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: panromantic OCCUPATION: mechanic at taylor’s motors

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE, ETC.

FACECLAIM: michael b. jordan HAIR COLOR AND STYLE: dark brown and cut close EYE COLOR: dark brown HEIGHT: 6′2

born and raised in the new orleans, louisiana, malachi had been immersed in the lifestyle of witchcraft from the moment he entered the world. he was born into a strong coven, the strongest in louisiana and arguably one of the strongest in the south. his familial line could be traced back hundreds of years, all the way back to a tribe that practiced voodoo in africa. however, their magic oftentimes toed the line between dark and traditional.

he lived in new orleans for the first decade of his life, only for him and his siblings to be uprooted and moved to ashwick valley by the choice of his parents. he later learned that they parted ways with the coven due to a rift between his father and the coven’s leader - his grandfather.

as he grew up over the years, he grew more and more curious about dark magic and how to practice it. he came across a few members of the nox coven when he entered high school, and became close friends with them. that was how he was properly introduced to dark magic.

from that point on, he began learning dark magic. he only delved deeper into dark magic around the age of 20 when his parents were killed in a car accident. he drowned out his pain and grief the best way he knew - magic.

despite being a user of dark magic, his personality is quite disarming and, for the most part, friendly. he’s the type of guy one would never assume has a dark side. you can almost always catch him with a smile on his face or cracking a rather crude joke. however, he can be confrontational. he’s not one to sugarcoat words or beat around the bush.

connection ideas

enemies (0/2)

allies (unlimited)

those he practices dark magic with (unlimited)

someone he mentors in dark magic (0/1)

ex lovers (0/2)

siblings (0/2)

#ashwickintro #[ i. malachi. ]#death tw #car accident tw

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13uswntimagines · 4 years ago

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Family’s Hard (Kristie Mewis x Reader)

Request: part 2 of the fic with Kristie that you post today! Maybe something with the r and Kristie both getting call for the national camp and we see a bit of what happen at camp with mal. pt 2. Maybe with both the reader and Kristine on the USENT roster and the fallout with Amal because of the reader being there. part 2 of the reader and mal meet up again joined by the team

Pt. One

You had never been more unhappy while staring at a plate full of pancakes in your entire existence. You loved your typical practice meal (and your girlfriend of almost a year’s hand on your thigh while you ate it), but you weren’t enjoying the disapproving glare you were getting from across the table. She had been like this the moment you stepped off the plane, and you feared she wouldn’t stop until camp was over.

It wasn’t like you decided to sit at this table to annoy Mal. Kristie wanted to sit with Sam, and you weren’t about to brave the dining room all by your little lonesome (plus you liked the team's Tower of Power and enjoyed watching the siblings banter).

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, pushing your chocolate chip pancakes around the plate, and keeping your eyes trained on your fork.

“You ok?” Your girlfriend asked, her lips caressing your ear. You didn’t miss the way your older sister's nose scrunched at the looseness between you and the older midfielder.

“Just tired. The flight from Houston was super long,” You mumbled, shrugging lightly.

“You sure?” Kristie nudged your cheek with her nose and squeezed your thigh. You had been jittery since you left your shared apartment in Houston to head for camp and no amount of reassuring from your girlfriend seemed to be helping.

“Psh. The flight home from France was exhausting, and then we had to get ready for good morning America. That was crazy, right Sammy?” Mal said with a wicked smile, completely cutting you off. Your mouth clicked shut and Kristie squeezed your thigh again (her jaw working overtime to prevent the scathing comment from leaving the tip of her tongue).

Mal had been impossible since you stepped foot into the hotel the USWNT had commandeered for camp. She had swung between outright bitchy and underhanded reminders of Jill's preference of her over you all day and Kristie was getting sick of it. Your shoulders slouched a little more with every remark, every jab clouding over a little bit more of your sunshine.

“That was pretty crazy,” Sam nodded, watching you and her sister carefully. She was trying to run as much interference as she could, but it seemed your sister wanted to make you as uncomfortable as possible. Almost like she was trying to drive you off the team.

“Definitely not as crazy as that party right after we won. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much champagne in my entire life. Not even after we beat Texas,” Mal added, and you shivered at the memory, wilting under her glare.

It was your freshman year (and coincidentally Mal’s senior year), and the first time the two of you had ever really played against each other. UCLA decimated your team and took over a frat house to celebrate. From what you heard, it was one of the biggest parties Texas A&M had ever seen.

Kristie sighed, wrapping the arm that was on your leg around your back, rubbing soothing circles. You leaned into the touch, still playing with the food on your plate, trying to hold your tongue and not rise to Mal’s prodding.

“From what I hear there was a lot of alcohol after Houston won the challenge cup,” Sam nodded, sharing a look with her sister and side-eyeing her friend.

“That was just beer, Sammy. It wasn’t as classy because no one cares about an arbitrary chaos cup win, especially after we won the World Cup. It’s all about scale,” Mal continued, completely ignoring the glare Kristie had pointed at her, enjoying the way you were squirming in your chair.

You shoved your plate away, giving up on eating. You didn’t want to be here.

“I'm sure. I’m gonna go. The uniform staff wanted to see me anyway,” You mumbled, just loud enough for Kristie to hear you (or so you thought).

Mal’s vicious smile grew. She just couldn’t seem to help herself when it came to you. You were always chasing after her, and this time she had done what you couldn’t. She wasn’t ready to give that up yet.

“I’d tell you to switch names, but all I can suggest is to pick a number you can actually live up to,” She sneered.

Your entire being froze and you blinked owlishly at your older sister (taking comfort in how Kristie's arm tightened around you). 13 had been your number since high school, but you knew that Alex was a vet and you weren’t stupid (or disrespectful) enough to even dream of trying to take it. You knew you would never be even close to the level of Alex Morgan.

You had accepted that and Instead chosen a different number, one you were proud to wear. You had no control over the last name on your jersey (until Kristie and you decided you wanted to get married, if you wanted to get married, and that was still pretty far off).

“Come on. They wanted to do a quick check-in with me too,” Kristie said, standing and dragging you with her out of the room, her eyes sending daggers towards your sister. She was done watching you collapse back into yourself.

****

Sam stared at Mal’s Cheshire Cat grin, her mouth agape. She didn’t understand why your older sister was being like this, or how she could continue eating as though she didn’t just rip you apart. (And at this rate someone had to stop her before Kristie killed her).

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sam said, leaning forward and resting both elbows on the table.

Mal shrugged, taking another sip of her orange juice. “What? I’m just being realistic,”

If you didn’t want to hear stories about their triumph at the World Cup, or how awesome the party was afterward, you could just find yourself a new seat (and take your girlfriend with you- you always did have to outdo her).

“You were a little harsh babe,” Rose said softly, patting the forward's hand.

Sam scoffed loudly, shaking her head. “She practically crumbled under that last comment,”

It was painful to watch your shy bean self withdraw back into the shell her sister worked so hard to crack. Even if you had Kristie here to support you, she wasn’t sure how long you would last without bursting into tears or getting into a screaming match with your sister. You were under enough pressure as it was.

“She’s just overly sensitive. If she wants to play in the big leagues she’s going to have to learn to stand up for herself,” Mal rolled her eyes.

It was a going joke in your family that Mal got the brains and beauty, while you just got the leftover emotions. Ever since you were kids, she had been the extroverted one saving you from bullies and being the “good example” that her parents wanted her to be. But this was her thing, and she didn’t want you horning in on it. (It was also a slight protective instinct too. She would rather be the one giving you shit than the media. They were ruthless and you would probably never forgive her. The road to hell was paved with good intentions after all.)

Sam sighed, taking in how Mal’s eyes tighten just a touch beneath her nonchalance. As much as she wanted to pretend she didn’t care about you, it was obvious that she did. The questions now were if she was willing to have a change of attitude and if she would even be able to repair the damage she had already done.

“Just be careful with how far you push her, alright?” Sam said thoughtfully.

Mal rolled her eyes again, any care she may have felt disappearing. “I know what I’m doing Sam,”

“I really hope you do, because I remember what it was like to always be trying to live up to your older sister and how difficult that was. And Kristie knew when to cut me some slack,” Sam said, raising her eyebrow at the younger woman.

She really hoped she could get through to her before Mal lost you, and Kristie kicked her head off.

*****

You sighed into Kristie's lips, enjoying the way her hips pinned you to the wall and her tongue explored your mouth. You weren’t one for public displays of affection, but she had dragged you into an abandoned corner of the hotel after your sister's clear display of disdain.

You guessed an upside to being at camp with Mal was your girlfriend's desire to cheer you up. You always responded better to physical contact (which was why Kristie used it to help you calm down all the time).

You hummed as the hands under your shirt made their way up to cup your cheeks, her fingers tangling in the baby hairs at the back of your neck. She let the kiss continue for another minute, before pulling back, so her lips were just barely ghosting over your own and your foreheads were touching.

You futilely tried to push off the wall and chase her lips, only for her to chuckle and pull back so you couldn’t reach, keeping you pinned with her hips.

“Ah, no more kisses until you say it,” She mumbled, her breath fanning across your lips.

You whined. You loved how supportive Kristie was, but you didn’t want to do this right now. You didn’t want to go through your normal reaffirmation routine. Not after the shots, Mal had taken at you.

“But-“

Kristie chucked at the keening whine again, shaking her head (both at how adorable your pout was and because she was standing her ground). She learned a long time ago that the best way to stop your mental spiraling was for you to say how worth it you were. “No buts. To get what you want you gotta say it,”

You huffed, I ally opening your eyes to look into Kristie’s determined blue. She raised her eyebrow at you.

“I’m an amazing person, no matter what anyone says,” You mumbled, looking away from your girlfriend. She hummed, using her thumb to tilt your chin back up.

“And?” She asked, a smile playing on her lips. Your pout deepened. You were set to start and Mal had made you feel bad about it. Now Kristie was trying to get you to admit that you deserved the opportunity.

The two of you stared at each other for a long minute, and you debated in trying to get back to the kissing again, to not say the last part of your mantra. Kristie's thumb ran soothingly over your cheek as if she was reading your mind. “Come on babe,” she said softly.

You bit your lip, finally giving in. “I shouldn’t feel guilty about opportunities I receive,”

“Good,” Kristie smiled, leaning back in to connect your lips. You smiled back into the kiss. Maybe things weren’t so bad if you got this treatment after your sister was mean to you, even if Kristie was trying to get you to finally confront her about her behavior. “And for the record, you can always say you’ll have a cooler last name later,”

*****

This was getting out of hand. Very out of hand. You hit the ground again, your face scraping against the turf after another bad tackle. You groaned, pushing yourself up off the turf and brushing yourself off, ignoring the hand of the defender in front of you in favor of taking the hand your girlfriend offered.

Kristie glared at the blond defender, very pissed off that she was pushing you so hard. “Fucking watch it Sonnett, another tackle like that and I’ll beat your ass myself,” Your girlfriend growled, brushing a stray piece of turf off your back.

Emily shrugged, awkwardly scratching the back of her neck. “Just trying to test the Rookie. Need to make sure she can handle a little pressure,”

She liked you, but with the pressure, Mal was putting n you, she thought that they were all going to go hard. To show you exactly how difficult this game could be and how much you needed to work to be on their level.

“I think Mal is doing enough of that on her own,” Kristie raised her eyebrow at the woman, still rubbing the turf off your back and cringing at the new burn. If this hadn’t been a teammate’s doing, she probably would have killed them by now. Ripped them limb from limb for touching you, but you didn’t need that. You needed her support and not her overprotectiveness.

“She actually needs to be able to play against Canada,” Sam said, patting her back. Emily shook her head. Mal was right. She would rather be the one to go hard on you and prepare you than some random defender who didn’t care at all.

As far as she was concerned, Mal’s plan was still in effect and you were going to have to pull some trick to get past her again.

****

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Kristie threaded a ball through the gap between Becky and Julie, straight to you. You turned, taking advantage of the gap in the backline, dribbling across to try and get a clear shot.

You didn’t see that gap collapsing. You didn’t see Emily and Midge racing towards you until it was too late. There was a loud crunch as you were caught between the two defenders, and tumbled to the ground.

The reaction from the rest of the team was instant. Kristie raced over, followed closely by Sam. Both women kneeling down next to you, trying to get you to roll over. It seemed that another blue blur was already laying into the two defenders.

“Lay the fuck off my sister,” Mal yelled, shoving Sonnett back from where her shifting form was standing over you.

Emily held her hands up in defense, stumbling away from you. “I’m just trying to keep the intensity up, exactly like you are,”

Mal growled audibly, stepping up to the taller defender and wrapping her fist into her shirt. “It’s different. She’s my sister and I’m the only one who gets to fuck with her. Got it,” she said her voice deadly calm.

Emily nodded rapidly, her eyes wide as Mal straightened her shirt, patting her shoulder. Emily backed away slowly, her hands still extended, terrified that Mal (and your girlfriend) would decide to actually kill her.

Mal nodded once the offending defenders were far enough away from you, before turning in your direction.

You were finally on your feet, shifting awkwardly and rubbing the back of your neck.

“Thanks,” You mumbled as she approached.

She smiled, pulling you into a very strange hug.“You got it, kid. I love you, even if you’re not as good as me yet,”

She let you go and winked. You smiled and trotted off back to your position, warmth filling you. Sure you weren’t on the best terms, but you were sisters and the act was like a white flag. A truce.

Kristie caught Mal’s arms as she passed. “Learn to lay off a little bit. I don’t want to have to hurt you,”

Mal nodded. You were family mad the only one who got to mess with you was her. She would kill anyone else who tried and she was glad you had gained two protectors.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #kristie mewis imagine #kristie mewis x reader

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pen-of-roses · 2 years ago

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The dark carriage rocked harshly from the uneven ground, enough that she feared it would even wake Ilm next to her.

But no, she continued to sleep peacefully. If she wanted, she could probably have even slept through the abyssal damned thing tumbling off a cliff and smashing to pieces around them.

Her fingers brushed the peaceful face and threaded into the soft white hair that was already tumbling free of its braid.

Ilm had never learned to wake, paranoid in the night from the slightest creak. Once upon a time, she had hoped to keep it that way. The mark still burning under her sleeve, but thankfully hidden, showed how foolish that was. Now she’d have to be the one to teach her.

She looked away from her.

Through the crack in the curtains, she could see the endless expanse of white snow and ice of Glassfeld. It glittered under the sun, a dazzling but blinding display. Still, she couldn’t look away from it.

How many years had this lived outside their homes, and they’d never seen it? Trapped inside the crystalline walls of Dawvines? And this would be the last time she would see it.

“Mal?”

Ilm’s voice broke through her thoughts, and she turned back, soothing her hair. She sounded so small then.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Go back to sleep. We’ll be at the docks shortly, don’t worry.”

“Mal, I’m sorry.” Watering purple eyes stared up at her.

“I know. I know, dear.” She tucked her under her chin, and held her as she sobbed.

She’d made a name for herself in Dawvines. It had taken years to get to where she had been in her practice, and even more to earn the titles and respect for it. People came to her from across the shard for what she could do.

And now all of that was gone.

Maybe if she pulled back the curtain, she would still see the smoke rising in the city.

Instead, she pulled her sister closer to her, and watched the same empty stretch of snow pass by, the last remains of her life packed into a trunk under her seat, and cradled in her lap.

If she could though, she would make the same choice.

Again.

And again.

Anything to keep Ilmaryne safe.

#writeblr #writing #excerpt #wip excerpt #malithra #ilmaryne #new wip

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heirtoashesif · 2 years ago

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𝙸𝙽𝚃𝚁𝙾𝙳𝚄𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽

The kingdom of Avniel is vast, spanning from salty coasts and beautiful rainy forests, to hot mesas, buttes and high mountains. It is the symbol of peace-- or at least, that's what you've grown up to believe. You play as the heir. Your kingdom, once peaceful and prosperous, has been sieged. With the throne usurped and most your family murdered, you, your devoted guard, and your twin are on the run, taking on new aliases and never staying in one place. Your sibling only has your safety in mind. They want to leave, but you..you don't want to leave your people, you want to stay and fight back. Lately, protests have begun to pop up all around the kingdom. There are whispers of a resistance forming- rumours that you can’t leave alone. You want your kingdom back, but how far are you willing to go for it?

Heir To Ashes is a fantasy-romance with supernatural story elements being written by a high school student on Twine, and proof read by his group of dumb ass friends [affectionate].

𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙴𝚂

Customizable MC! choose your name, pronouns, appearance, personality, etc. you even get to choose what weapon you specialize in! Or, alternatively, have your greatest weapon be a silver tongue. You can develop The Heir's personality not only in the present-tense, but also how they were as a kid.

Four [potentially five] diverse love interests, one who is gender selectable, and a poly route or two that's likely to be implemented later in the game. Your Heir's personality may clash with some while they get along amazingly with the others, therefore only certain Heir's will be able to kiss a LI. If your heir is on the aromantic spectrum [very little romantic feelings] [demiromantic] [etc], you are still open to all three routes [romantic, queer platonic, and platonic.]

Join the resistance and become one of the best and brightest. Become a leader, a healer, a fighter.. a bit of everything, even.

Multiple choice options that matter! What you choose will influence the story in later dialogues and scenes, so.. choose wisely!

Decide the relationship you have with your sibling, and have the chance to develop it!!

Platonic routes! Every character will have a platonic and queer platonic route. Platonic routes are purely platonic- the friend route, if you will. Queer platonic routes will be based off queer platonic relationships. If you want your heir to be aromantic [little to no romantic feelings] but be able to be physically affectionate with characters in ways that would be classified as romantic, that's what this route is for.

Take your rightful place on the throne.

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂

The Heir

You are The Heir, born a few minutes apart from your twin sibling. It's up to you to decide what kind of leader you are.. but keep in mind that there are people watching your every move.

Nico/Nikkie [gender selectable]

Your twin sibling. You've spent your life in their shadow, but no matter how you feel about their presence in your life, there is no room for doubt that they love you.

𝙻𝙾𝚅�� 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚃𝚂 *potential poly route with L & M, L & C

LEXUS/LUX [he/him] [early to mid 20s] [6'2]

“Oh, Ophelia, Heaven help the fool who falls in love.”

Lux has been your best friend for years. He joined the guard when he was only a young teen, but he quickly rose through the ranks and became a member of the royal guard. On your sixteenth birthday, he was assigned as your personal guard.

He’s one of those types to act stoic but easily fails when he finds something humorous. He tries to keep the smile-cracking to a minimum, but if he fails, so do you. His laughter is the contagious kind. He’s warm with a heart of gold- though, he seems to avoid the topic of his childhood at all costs. You want to know why, he practically knows all there is to know about you, but you can’t share that same sentiment.

Maybe you’re better off not knowing, though.

Malachi/Mal [he/she] [very early 20s] [5'11]

“Tell me why this has to end.”

You get the option to bully him for his baby face. Karma bitch<3

A strange young man who saves you after you get cornered by guards. Lux seems constantly annoyed by him, but that’s a given with Mal’s relentless teasing. You’re not entirely sure where you stand, but you still wonder why you allowed him to come along.

He’s playful and cocky, in such a way that you don’t know if it’s endearing or irritating. Maybe a bit of both. You and Lux try to get to know him more, try to solve the puzzle he’s created in your minds, but she deflects your questions every time. It’s driving you crazy- just who is he and why does he get such a pained look in his eyes when he looks at you? When he looks at all of you?

Celia/Li [they/them] [early 20s] [5'9]

“I’m so scared of caving in, is that entertaining yet?”

One of the generals for the resistance- they lead the main team for the front lines. They seem reluctant to let Malachi go into anything dangerous, quick to back them like an older sister, despite the awkward tension between the two. You can only wonder what happened.

They’re strong willed and earnest, so it’s not a surprise they’re so high in the ranks. While Celia is more on the serious side, they take care to keep everyone’s spirits up. Their words are soft and gentle, carefully chosen to nudge people in the right direction. Everyone in the resistance seems to regard them in a positive light, but hold their own worries for the general. They’re normally confident and unfaltering on the battlefield, yet shy away from the slightest of affections. Their conflicted relationship with their younger brother complicates things now; they’re second guessing themself, and you think they may be protecting Malachi from having to see the more brutal side of necessity.

[he/they] Varius/Vienna [she/her] [mid to late 20s] [6'1]

“If I love you was a promise, would you break it if you’re honest?”

V is one of the best strategists in the resistance. You feel this strange nostalgia when looking at them, tugging at your memories. You can remember it on the tip of your tongue, the taste like sunlight and pastries, the smell like fresh rain and spring grass. But every time you get close to remembering, it slips through your grasp.

They’re playful and talkative, though very secretive. They enjoy games, turning everything into a little guessing game or competition. Alike to Malachi, they are a person that likes to tease, but unlike him, it’s less irritating and more affectionate. You’ve noticed they’re a subtle flirt, in a way that’s soft and warm and makes you feel all giddy inside. They are of noble blood and background, but the more time you spend with them, the more you notice how their character is the opposite of that.

But, for someone who is so secretive, they haven’t hidden their sweet tooth all that well.

+ a secret antagonist who may be implemented as a love interest.

DEMO - UNRELEASED. ~12.31-2.14!

#interactive games #interactive fiction #twine game #twine story #romance story #lgbtq

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blasphemir · 2 years ago

Text

tag dump.

❜ / ⠀ IC ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ A GOOD HEAD ON HIS SHOULDERS ― & 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘬.

❜ / ⠀ OUT ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ oh hell naw look at my doctor i'm going to die.

❜ / ⠀ DASH ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ ACTING 'A LITTLE SILLY' EVENT ― (2355 DEAD / 47645 MISSING).

❜ / ⠀ META ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ THE DEVELOPMENT OF CONSCIOUSNESS IS ― the 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘯 / 𝘴𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 of man.

❜ / ⠀ PSYCHE ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ a human is nothing more than a machine .

❜ / ⠀ CRACK ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ the name's practice... MAL PRACTICE.

❜ / ⠀ AES ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ I DON'T NEED GOD ― because i'm 𝙝𝙞𝙢.

❜ / ⠀ ANS ⠀ ﹕ UNIMPORTANT FILES are sorted to pile five.

Ⅱ / ⠀ AUDIO.

Ⅱ / ⠀ SAVED ― ⠀ ⠀ progress report.

Ⅱ / ⠀ ASKMEME.

Ⅱ / ⠀ REF ― ⠀ ⠀ research 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 ...

( 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂. / vis. )

( 𝐄𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐒. / vis. )

( 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄. / vis. )

( 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑. )

( 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄. )

( 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍. )

( 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. )

( 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄. )

( 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘. )

( 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑. )

( 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐄. )

( 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄. )

#❜ / ⠀ IC ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ A GOOD HEAD ON HIS SHOULDERS ― & 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘬.#❜ / ⠀ OUT ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ oh hell naw look at my doctor i'm going to die.#❜ / ⠀ DASH ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ ACTING 'A LITTLE SILLY' EVENT ― (2355 DEAD / 47645 MISSING).#❜ / ⠀ META ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ THE DEVELOPMENT OF CONSCIOUSNESS IS ― the 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘯 / 𝘴𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 of man.#❜ / ⠀ PSYCHE ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ a human is nothing more than a machine .#❜ / ⠀ CRACK ⠀ �� ⠀ ⠀ the name's practice... MAL PRACTICE.#❜ / ⠀ AES ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ I DON'T NEED GOD ― because i'm 𝙝𝙞𝙢.#Ⅱ / ⠀ AUDIO.#Ⅱ / ⠀ SAVED ― ⠀ ⠀ progress report.#Ⅱ / ⠀ ASKMEME.#Ⅱ / ⠀ REF ― ⠀ ⠀ research 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 ...#( 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂. / vis. )#( 𝐄𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐒. / vis. )#( 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄. / vis. )#( 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑. )#( 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄. )#( 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍. )#( 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. )#( 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄. )#( 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘. )#( 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑. )#( 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐄. )#( 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄. )#❜ / ⠀ ANS ⠀ ﹕ UNIMPORTANT FILES are sorted to pile five.

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mahvaladara · 2 years ago

Photo

One of the things I like the most about this specific pic is that despite still fully functional (and sentient), Arlo’s right harm has gone completely ‘space-gangrenous’. This is Arlo’s dominant hand and the arm he uses more often to channel magic. What’s ‘space’ gangrene? Basically your body is becoming “void”, this is common to happen to Valasyr who contract the rot, where instead of rotting, their matter starts desintegrating creating black cracks and black patches that seem to reflect space.

Curious fact about the twins, is that Arlo is right-handed (like his mother), while Apollo was born left-handed (like his father) though he later developed ambidextry (like his father, but he doesn’t know that) because he didn’t want to be left-handed like his dad (the whole belief that the left hand is the devil’s hand).

Curiously, Arlo’s decay is actually mirroring Mal’s own experiences with magic.

When Mal first started developing his vala and his ability to do magic, he didn’t entirely know how to channel magic, and neither did the mages and sorcerers around him understand his specific power. This resulted in, by the time Mal got to someone who could help him, Mal’s left harm was charred black and his flesh was burnt to the bone, reflecting the ‘void’.

Eventually, the royal healers decided to amputate Mal’s left harm, and which point they realized the full extent of his healing properties when he grew a new arm.

In a sense, Arlo is going through the same, but his arm, due to the magic burning through energy, is rotting faster than the rest of the body. Arlo suffers this in all his extremities, but that arm suffers more. However, much like his father, amputation won’t end it, the Eye will just make it grow back again and that hurts more than having it cut off or living with it.

Arlo, like his father, is a Warlock, an Allsage, a Valasyr. He has incredible power and like his father, his power eats through his energy and fat reserves at the speed of a high competition professional athlete. Add to that the fact Arlo is rotten and can’t eat solid food, and he’s in a constant state of undernutrition. His body is starving, both due to his power and the rot.

This is the reason why Warlocks, despite being tall and slim and even sometimes described as lanky, can punch a heavyweight wwe champion through a wall, easy. These are guys and girls that despite not looking the part because their magic just eats through their bodies, have a very strict training, develop a lot of strength and endurance just to be able to throw a fireball and whom it may concern, wiping entire battlefields.

This is why everyone tells Arlo to kill Apollo, because he is more powerful than Apollo and as strong.

Apollo, is also a warlock, but Apollo is a one track pony. He’s focused on being a hero and only doing ‘good’ magic, namely practical. Because of this, he’s purposefully hindering his own power and development. As a result, Apollo has a more butch build, add to that the fact he’s part of his college’s football team and is a professional athlete, and what he lacks in magic he has in physical prowess.

Arlo is a lot more powerful than Apollo has he has no bounds to his power. However, his sickness bites him in the ass. He’s in a constant state of pain and decay. Arlo lives in pain, but Arlo has no choice but to ‘live’. So he pushes the pain back and pushes through.

As Mal says, they don’t have any other choice but to go on.

Can Arlo die?

Yes. Arlo can die. Arlo can be killed, but to kill Arlo, you must remove Mal’s Eye from him, as long as he has that Eye, the Eye will never let him die. It’s a symbiote that needs a host. Imagine it as a piece of “Tomie”. It will survive at any cost or return to its origin.

If you think about it. Apollo wants to give Arlo a heart so he can take the Eye from him.

Think about it.

#spoilers #arlo #character development

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wonder-kid-pugh · 4 years ago

Text

Homesick - (Christen Press x reader)

Hey guys!!! Honestly heard this song and loved it so much and thought it would be good for an imagine. Halfway through writing it I thought it would have been better with an army service person but honestly was too tired to change it all. But I hope you enjoy!!!

You look so peaceful in our bed

I didn't wanna wake you when I left

To catch my plane

And I'll be trailing through the sky

Just another silhouette up high

Before you wake

I groan quietly as the alarm on my Fitbit buzzes awaking me from my peaceful night. I lay there for another minute before deciding I unfortunately have to get up. Ever so slowly I gently slip out from Christen's grasp and quietly get out of the bed.

I start to move around the room getting ready. The benefit of having everything packed the day before means I wasn't in a rush to pack and I all I had to do was get changed. As I check my watch I see I need to be leaving soon to make my flight. But as I look over at Christen who is still sleeping peacefully in the bed I smile softly at the sight.

She looked so serene and peaceful. She looked so relaxed as her chest rises and falls in slow rhythmic breaths. I frown knowing how hard she's been working lately on Re Inc alongside training and everything else that needs to be done. I sigh and bite the inside of my cheek. We had a traditional, sort of like an unspoken rule. Whenever one of us had to leave for somewhere we would always wake the other up to say goodbye. Sadly it was usually me doing the waking up having to travel a lot for work.

But knowing how stressed she been recently about Re Inc's new capsule launch and the upcoming Olympics, I didn't have the heart to wake her up.

Instead I settle for a gentle kiss on her forehead. I freeze as she stirs in her sleep as she shuffles around in the bed before burying her head into my pillow. With one last smile I creep out of the room leaving her a small note on the counter before leaving for the airport.

Knowing by the time she wakes up I'll be high in the sky.

You tell me that you had that dream again

When I didn't have to go

I wish that we could live inside your head

I had barely stepped into my hotel room when my phone rings. I drop my bags before fishing around in my pockets to find my phone. But I smile as I see the name pop up on my screen, "Morning Chris".

"You didn't wake me this morning..." I didn't even need to see her to know that she was pouting on the other end. I bite my lip, "I know but I know how hard you've been working and you just looked so beautiful and peaceful. I just couldn't do it". She giggles, "Maybe it's because of the dream I was having".

I flop back into the bed settling back into the mattress, "What were you dreaming about?" "You woke me up and told me that your gig was cancelled and you didn't have to leave". I chuckle and run my hand through my hair, "I like the sound of that. I wish we could live inside you head".

And I know that you'll feel better

When you're sat there in my sweater

That I gave you to remember

Being on the sofa next to me

And I'm waking up at 6:00 a.m.

To call before you go to bed

And tell you 'bout the day I've planned

And listen to the one you had

And when I'm homesick

I've got you on my home screen

So anywhere I'm going

I know that you'll be with me

Until I hold you, darling

I grin, "I'm sorry I didn't wake you up. But I have a surprise that will make you happy". She hums, "Oh yeah? What is it?" "Go look in the wardrobe" I tell her. I can hear her shuffling on her end as she no doubt goes to the wardrobe. Then I hear her coo over the phone, "Awe Y/n..." I smile, "I know it sucks being away from each other a lot of the time especially with conflicting schedules and stuff. But I hope this will help remind you I'm always here for you".

She giggles, "It's smells like you and a small bit of popcorn". I had left her one of my oversized sweater which she always loved to steal off me. She had spent many nights curled up in my sweater on the sofa for our movie nights. It was one of my favourites but I could never be mad at her for taking it. She just looked so adorable all swallowed up in the massive hoodie.

"This way" I tell her, "whenever you start to miss me. You can just put this on and think of the two of us cuddled up on the couch". She lets out a content sigh, "I love you". I smile, "I love you too".

Your friends, they ask you all the time

Why'd you wanna wait another night

When I'm not home?

And nothing seems to settle down

Just another day, another town

And we're alone

As much as I love my job it did suck at times. Being a photographer for hire was brilliant as I got to do what I loved and got to travel all over the world meeting amazing people. The problem with being in such high demand means I'm traveling a little too much at times.

It also meant that I was purely reliant on reputation alone. Thankfully I had spent years building it up. It didn't hurt that I was very versatile doing just about everything from travel pictures to modelling shoots. But in building up a reputation it meant that I couldn't turn down bookings.

And it seems that I always had the worst timing with luck. It seems that just as I finish up a job I get booked for another one. Postponing my return home. Things just never seems to settle down. Meaning spending even longer away from Christen. Or just when I come home she's leaving for camp or matches. I would be hopping town to town. The two of us alone.

But not really

But I can never let this go to waste

The further that I go

The more I seem to love you every day

But no matter how far away we are from each other. No matter the distance I travel it could never diminish how much I love Christen. It's as if the further I travel the more my love grows for her. I guess what they say is true.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

And I know that you'll feel better

When you're sat there in my sweater

That I gave you to remember

Being on the sofa next to me

And I'm waking up at 6:00 a.m.

To call before you go to bed

And tell you 'bout the day I've planned

And listen to the one you had

And when I'm homesick

I've got you on my home screen

So anywhere I'm going

I know that you'll be with me

Until I hold you

When I'm homesick

I've got you on my home screen

So anywhere I'm going

I know that you'll be with me

Until I hold you, darling

After touching down in New York and hailing down a taxi I slump back in the seat as they drive me to the hotel for the night. But the first thing I do is check the time difference. It just became apart of my routine everytime I went somewhere for work. I would always check the time difference between where I am with wherever Christen is.

I had made it a priority to always call Christen before she goes to bed no matter what unless it was organised before hand for some reason.

Of course I never told Christen this. Purely cause in doing so it means that I would have to be awake at insane hours in order to call her. Of course it was a pain but everything was worth it to hear about Christen's day.

As I get to the hotel I immediately slide into the bed not even bothering to change and instead just dropping my bags and getting comfortable underneath the warn blankets. Knowing I only have a few hour before needing to wake up to call Christen.

I groan lightly when I hear the alarm on my phone go off. I sit up in my bed with a yawn before taking my phone off the charge and dialling Christen's number. I rub the sleep from my eyes as it rings. But it doesn't take long as it only has the chance to ring twice before I hear my beautiful girlfriend's voice on the other end, "Hey Y/n!"

I smile tiredly, "Hey Love". "You okay? You sound tired. Early start?" I chuckle quietly she has no idea. "Eh it's okay I just woke up is all". I stifle a yawn, "But don't worry about that how was your day?"

I can't help but smile as she begins her long rant about her day. Starting off with the usual with her morning yoga and meditation and everything. Then tells me about Kelley acting like a crack head at training and work for Re Inc. "Mal was asking for you as well today" she tells me making me smile. "Awe" coo, "tell the little nugget I miss her too".

"Do you have much planned for the day?" She asks. I shrug although I know she can't see me, "Well other than the shoot I have today I don't really know. Maybe if I get a chance I can go explore maybe take a few pictures". She groans, "Uh I wish I could go exploring with you". I smile, "Maybe one day I'll bring you back with me and then we can explore together". "I would like that" she says softly.

There's a small pause before she speaks again. "So do you know when your going to be coming home?" She asks quietly. I sigh knowing it was coming. She asks every time and I hate it. Purely because I can never give her a good answer. I never liked giving her an answer only for her to be disappointed when another job calls me away again. "I don't know Chris" I sigh. "I have this gig which is a city wide shoot which could go on for days if we get delayed and then I might be getting called for another in England afterwards".

I could practically see the frown on her face, "Okay..." I sigh and play with the ring on my finger, "But you know that I'm doing everything in my power to get back home to you". "I know". I inhale deeply, "I love you so so so so much Christen Press". I smile as I hear her giggle down the line, "I love you too". "To the moon and back" I whisper. She sighs contently.

"To the moon and back"

I know that you'll feel better

When you're sat there in my sweater

That I gave you to remember

Being on the sofa next to me

I groan quietly as I rub my eyes tired from constantly staring at the screen. When I glance up I see I've been editing these photos for over 3 hours now as the it now shows that it's nearing 4am. I slump back in the chair and stare up at the ceiling just taking a moment to rest my eyes.

I loved photography and taking pictures of different things. But this was the part I hated the most. Editing. Was simply the bain of my existence. It was just a slow process and took so long to do such small things. And as much as I wanted to just go to sleep I knew I couldn't. The longer I put these off the more pressure I'll be under to get them sent off.

It would also lead to just a bigger amount of pictures to edit and that didn't seem all that appealing either.

It didn't help that all my thoughts just seems to trail back to Christen. She's probably in the middle of team bonding or free time right now. Probably hanging with Tobin or someone right now. What I wouldn't give to just be cuddled up with her right now taking a nap.

I missed her so much right now

My thoughts are interrupted by my phone pinging. I sigh as I grab my phone only to see it's an Instagram notification. I scrunch my face "I've been tagged?" I shrug thinking it's just probably someone posting some photos I took for them but instantly smile when I see who it was.

It was a picture I had actually taken a while ago just for fun but it came out extremely well. It was a picture of Chris sitting on our sofa looking away from the camera and instead to the seat beside her. The light streaming in from the windows we're hitting her perfectly. But the best part was her sitting them in my baggy sweater adorning her small frame making her look even smaller than usual.

Christenpress Wish you were here next to me

I chuckle as I like the photo. Christen was such a tease. She knew that fans had suspicions that she was dating someone but would never come out and directly say who. It was quite funny seeing how many people speculated Christen and Tobin were dating from photos I had taken. Taking friendly gestures way out of context.

After staring at the picture for a while longer I switch off my phone and get back to editing the photos. Wanting to get these done as quickly as possible. Because the quicker I get these done.

The quicker I get home to her.

And when I'm homesick

I've got you on my home screen

So anywhere I'm going

I know that you'll be with me

Until I hold you

When I'm homesick

The day had been longer than it should have been. The shoot had a rocky start with an overbearing manager interrupting the shoot constantly and questioning everything every 5 minutes. I was quickly coming to the end of my tether but I finally cracked. Not only was he making the model uncomfortable, he started questioning me. So I eventually kicked him off the shoot.

Which was the best decision as the model finally relaxed enough to continue on with the shoot. It ran much smoother after that but we had a lot of time to make up for. And along with the wardrobe changes and travelling between locations the day was just tiring overall.

It didn't help that homesickness hit my like a train today.

I don't know why but everything just remind me of Christen. It was almost crippling how much I missed her. Wanting nothing more than to be in her arms. But I plastered a smile on my face and grinned and bared it. The only thing getting me through the day was my phone.

My phone was my lifeline and my medicine for homesickness. Whenever I was having a bad day or just missing home all I had to do was turn on my phone. And I was met with Christen smiling up at me from my home screen. It was a picture that I think one of her teammates took. It was of a picture of a few of us at a party or team celebration I honestly couldn't remember. With Tobin, Pinoe and a few others either side of us while Christen was sitting on my lap with my arms wrapped around her and my chin resting on her shoulder. Both of us smiling at the camera. It was of It's my own way of always having her with me.

She has my sweater and I have my home screen. And that will keep us going until we're back together again.

I've got you on my home screen

So anywhere I'm going

I know that you'll be with me

Until I hold you, darling

I focus my camera waiting for the perfect moment until I quickly snap the photo. I grin as I see the outcome of the shots and swear that she could never take a bad photo ever. I wait anxiously taking the occasional picture until the whistle finally blows.

I pull the snood closer to my face and pull my hat down further down my face making me almost unrecognisable. As I make my way onto the field I snap pictures of the players trading after match pleasantries and talking to each other. I smile as I see her smiling and laughing with Tobin and Mal. I raise the camera to my eye and wave at them, "Hey! Can I get a picture?"

They all nod before standing beside each other and smiling at me with their arms around each other. I quickly take the picture before lowering the camera, "Beautiful! Thank you but I was expecting a better reaction from you".

She looks at me confused before I lower my snood and smile at my girlfriend, "Hey Love". She gasps at me before launching herself into my arms giving me just enough time to move my camera away from getting crushed and catch her in my arms. I spin her around in my arms before putting her back on her feet. "Your here! Omg your actually here!" She squeals as she wraps her arms around my neck.

After passing off my phone to Mal with a smile I securely wrap my arms around her waist pulling her even closer to me, "Yes Darling. I'm here".

We sway side to side for a bit just enjoying being back in each others arms again. "I missed you" she whispers into my neck as I kiss the side of her head, "I missed you too. So so so much Chris".

She pulled back just even to look into my eyes before leaning in to kiss me. Finally being back in each others arms we were so happy to be back with each other. "I love you to the moon and back" I whisper pressing my forehead against hers.

"I love you to the moon and back"

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #christen press x reader #christen press imagines #christen press imagine #uswnt x reader

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miracle-sham · 3 years ago

Text

Crack Your Bones and Say Those Lies.

| {Jasonette July 2021, Saturday Challenge 3: And They Were Roommates} |

———

| After getting roped into the Vigilante life by Chat Noir, her friend and partner in crime, Maladroit tries her best to help fight crime to make the city a better place, if only Red Hood and his gang would stop causing problems. |

| Or alternatively, Marinette and Jason are roommates with secrets. Both have huge crushes on each other but more importantly, both are trying to juggle moonlighting as their secret identities. However, when watching the nightly news together, everything changes. |

| Word Count: 5,014. |

| Warnings/Tags: No Miraculous/Different Powers Au, Roommates, minor gang mentions/Red Hood is a gang lord, gun violence, Vigilantism, Identity Shenanigans/Mistakes, Miscommunication, some emotional hurt, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, and Domestic fluff. Also Oblivious, Protective, & Mutually Pining Marinette and Jason. |

———

| A/N: Hey! Sorry this is nearly a week late but where I live got hit with a nasty heatwave and I was barely able to write from sheer exhaustion from the heat. But on a happier note, I'm so glad I've finally been able to write and post a proper Vigilantes au (as in like Spidey style vigilantism with homemade gear and all!) Because that kinda Vigilante au especially combined with roommates is my favourite trope ever! Well maybe joint with Dragonrider AUs, but still! I've had multiple Vigilante Aus sitting in my notes and drafts so it's brilliant to finally release one into the wild! Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this! |

| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

———

It's Friday night, and Maladroit and Chat Noir are midway through their usual patrol of their slice of territory in the city.

“Race you to the billboard!” Chat Noir calls out, snickering in an almost cat-like-chitter as he launches himself forwards. Swinging over Maladroit's head with his grapple, he lands on the next roof ahead, in a perfect three-point landing.

Maladroit giggles, “Oh, you're so on!” She grabs her grapple and shoots. Swinging after him and onto the same roof. She instead, dive forward rolls for her landing and uses the momentum to propel her into a run.

Losing his lead due to the momentum loss of the three-point landing, Chat Noir vaults over a roof vent.

Forced to swerve to the side, Maladroit barely dodges a massive puddle of rainwater on her side of the roof.

Neck and Neck, the two raced across the rooftop. Closer and closer to the billboard they raced.

Nearly there! She thinks, c'mon! Reaching an arm out to slap the billboard—

Bzzt!

“Eep!” She yelps, startled by the buzzing crackle of her earring-comms. Unintentionally, she accidentally veers to the side and crashes straight into Chat Noir's side.

They collide with a loud thud, and two of them crumple into a pile.

“Graceful as ever, Mal.” A voice teases over her earring-comms. “Joking aside, didn't mean to spook you, sorry!”

Maladroit groans, “thanks,” and gingerly extracts herself from the vigilante limb pile.

“Gamer!” Chat Noir cheers, having heard him through his own disguised comms. “Got any crimes for us to fight tonight?”

There's a chuckle over the line, “Lucky you should ask, Chat, I do happen to have found some villainous plans for you to thwart.”

Chat Noir cracks his knuckles and stretches. “Oh? What are they?”

“Two which are time-sensitive.” Gamer adds.

Maladroit stifles a squawk, “Two! That are time-sensitive?” Her voice goes up a pitch on the last word, making it sound like a question.

“Uh-huh.” He confirms. “Chat Noir, there's a break-in at a jewellery store two blocks over from you. I'm sending you the directions now to your phone.”

Chat Noir does a two-fingered salute to the nearest security camera. “Got it, G! Detective Noir is on the case!”

“And Maladroit, we've got reports of sightings of Red Hood outside his usual area. By the Warehouses on fourth. There are no security cams around there so I've got nothing but rumours to go on. See if you can check it out and find out what he's up to.” Gamer informs her, sounding slightly irritated at the fact he's got little information to give her.

Maladroit nods, grumbling slightly. “When isn't he up to something.”

Slinging an arm around her shoulder, Chat Noir grins like the Cheshire Cat. “C'mon, Mal! It'll be a quick sweep and nothing will turn up like the last twenty times we've gotten this kinda tip-off!”

“You owe me ice cream from André's when we're in civvies tomorrow!” She huffs. “I made us macarons last time!”

“I haven't forgotten!” Chat Noir protests. “Anyway, see you tomorrow if we don't catch each other for the end of the patrol?”

Maladroit nods. “Yep! See ya later Minou!”

The two split. Chat Noir dashing after the directions, and Maladroit swinging towards the warehouses on fourth.

———

Breathe, Maladroit—reminds herself, perched on the rafters in one of the warehouses on fourth. Staring at the blood-red glowing mask of the red hooded villain, who happens to be oh so creatively named the 'Red Hood', leaning on the balcony railing on the opposite side of the warehouse to her rafter, and presumably glaring up at her.

“It's you again, Maladroit.” He growls, distorted by whatever voice modifier he's got wired into his mask.

She can't help but wince at the reminder of the word she had accidentally said the first time she had ever helped Chat Noir fight crime. Which irritatingly enough, stuck as her vigilante name. Especially since her second attempt at a name, Ladybug, didn't stick. She frowns beneath the black and red spotted bandana covering her mouth, and tightly grips her bladed yo-yo—with piano wire instead of string—of the same colour scheme.

“What are you planning, Red Hood?” She spits out, voice also modified by her bandana, a tad too grumpy and bitterly for the awkward-but-smiley "persona" she's supposed to act like (although it's not so much of a persona when that's just how she is almost all the time). But in her defence, she's had a rough day at uni, things have been awkward at home because of her crush on her roomie lately, and more importantly, Red Hood's lackeys have been a pain in the neck for the past week, so her reaction is more than warranted.

He has the audacity to laugh. “What makes you think I'm going to tell you, Pipsqueak?”

“Well,” Maladroit huffs, “I was hoping you were feeling considerate.”

Red Hood shifts his shoulders. “Aww, sorry Pipsqueak. I'm not feeling particularly considerate today.” In a split second, he slips both guns from his holsters, spins them, and shoots.

Maladroit squeaks, instinctively tugging on her power, and dives off the rafter to dodge the shot. “Rude!”

She's just able to shoot her grapple off and swing up to another metal beam.

“How the fuck do you keep dodging my shots?” He snarls, gesturing at her with his guns in short angry-looking motions.

In response, she throws her yo-yo at him, tugging on her power again. The yo-yo spins through the air, slashing through the Red Hood's jacket sleeve and slicing a deep groove into the gun, then rewinds on the wire back to her. “What makes you think I'm going to tell you, Bullet Boy!” She parrots back, cheekily.

“Hey!” Red Hood snaps, aiming another shot at her.

Tugging on her powers once more, Maladroit yelps as she swings to yet another metal rafter beam in order to avoid the shot. “Your aim sucks!”

“Fuck you!” He retorts, firing off four more shots aimed at her head.

There's a horrifying moment as she barely manages to tug on her powers in time. The bullets barely skimming past her hood, one even tearing the fabric slightly.

“Mal!” Comes Gamer's terrified voice over her earring-comms, “I need you to pull back immediately! Red Hood and his gang have been spotted nearby and Chat can't get to you in time to back you up if you do get into a fight!”

She raises a hand to her earrings and quietly laughs hysterically. “Little too late for that, G! I'm uh currently staring… face to gun to him”

“Oh, fuck!” Gamer responds, voice going up a pitch. “I'm contacting Chat now. Try and get out if you can but prioritise not getting yourself killed, please!”

Red Hood fires his guns again. “Eyes and ears on me, Pipsqueak.”

Squeaking yet again, Maladroit desperately tugs on her power once more and swings to another rafter. Her heart thunders in her chest as loudly as his gunfire. She spits out a frantic, “no promises!” to both of them.

“I've informed him, your backup is on the way.” Gamer tells her.

The main warehouse doors clatter open with a resounding slam! Followed by the stomping of multiple pairs of boots storming inside.

Maladroit waves at Red Hood, the quiet terrified hysterical laughter practically bubbling out of her mouth. “Haha, well I'm afraid that's my cue to Bug Out!”

“Oh, I don't think so, Pipsqueak.” Red Hood taunts, shooting six bullets at her, rapid-fire. “I ain't finished with our convo yet.”

Squeaking for the umpteenth time, and really just giving him even more reason to keep giving her that stupid pipsqueak nickname, she riskily shoots her grapple, aiming and swinging towards the warehouse's large balcony windows.

“Get the fuck back here!” He snarls, voice deepening with fury. Pausing to reload before firing off more shots at her with abandon.

Maladroit wriggles midair, tugging on her powers to try and dodge the shots. She curls into a dive forward roll as the grapple forces her to land onto the balcony. The same one that Red Hood has been stood on this entire time. Oh, help me! She thinks, eyes widening behind her makeshift red with black tinted lenses, goggles-slash-domino mask.

He aims his gun at her once more. “Move and you fucking die, pipsqueak.”

Putting her hands in the air, she swallows a gulp of air. Her body armour is padded beneath her red, and black spotted, hoodie but it isn't bulletproof. And she can feel the straining exhaustion of overusing her powers clawing at her.

They're at a standoff. Still as statues, the both of them. It's almost poetic how they parallel each other. He's got his gun aimed at her, whilst she's desperately clutching at her grappling hook gun in one of her raised hands. Both donned in red. Both committing crimes in the eyes of the law. Two sides of the same coin, one and the same.

Maladroit feels sick to her stomach, staring down the barrels of his guns. Ever so slowly, she tugs on her powers. The window a little bit behind her creaks quietly enough that Red Hood doesn't seem to notice beneath the clamour of his gang doing whatever it is they're doing below.

She counts her breath and tugs on her power. A minute passes with no movement, no words, nothing happening on the balcony. Out of the corner of her eye, she can just see that it's now open enough that she should be able to make it out unscathed. Or at least mostly unscathed.

Closing her eyes, not that he can see, her power snaps. Instinctively she doubles over and slaps a hand over her mouth. Barely in time as a stifled scream is yanked from her throat, leaving her panting for breath. Her knees crash onto the balcony flooring. A bullet whizzes past her neck.

“Shit. What the fuck was that?” Red Hood grumbles, sounding genuinely concerned. He storms across the balcony towards her.

Maladroit can't help but flinch, bodily throwing herself back as far away from him as she can. Mind racing in panic.

He stows one gun back into a holster then reaches a hand towards her. “Hey, hey, hey. Calm down.”

“Gotta go! Bug-bye!” She squeaks out, wrenching on her power with all her remaining strength, and bolting for the window.

“I think the fuck not! Fucking pretending to be hurt.” Red Hood barks, ripping the gun back out of its holster.

Narrowly dodging the spray of bullets shot at her, Maladroit dives through the window and fires off her grapple. Safely swinging far away from the warehouse.

———

Carefully Maladroit drops with the ease of far too many nights of practise, onto the fire escape outside her bedroom window. She crouches and lets the shadows of the night hide her form. Creeping closer, she checks the windowsill for any marks or signs of tampering but it all comes away untouched. Content with her quick security check, she fumbles for the disguised piece of string wedging the window ajar in a way that's barely visible unless you know where to look for it. Got it! She thinks to herself, grabbing ahold of it and prying it, and the window above it, up and open.

Slipping through the open window, she sits on the sill to rip her thankfully not-too-dirty studded steel-toed boots off. Picking them up in one hand, she wiggles the rest of the way into her room and immediately resets the security measures, yanking the curtain down for privacy.

Maladroit then shuffles over to her bed. Tikki—her gorgeous fluffy red and dark brown miniature dachshund—blinks sleepily up at her, from the dog bed next to it. The puppy yaps in greeting before snuffling and curling back up to sleep.

She coos at the cuteness before continuing on. With the other hand not carrying the boots, she pries the blanket covered duffel bag out from underneath. Wrestling to unzip it in one janky and awkward motion, grunting slightly at the exertion. The metal of the zip digs in but the discomfort is mostly mitigated by the padded gloves and wrist guards she's wearing. The easy to clean plastic bag designated for temporary storing of her boots is dragged out of the bag and said boots are tossed in without a second glance.

Huffing, she starts to take the rest of her cross between mostly homemade and refashioned sports kit vigilante gear off. First, tugging down the hood of her hoodie and unclipping the black scrum cap hidden under it. It's dumped unceremoniously into a secondary plastic bag in the open duffel bag. After that, Maladroit removes the black neck guard and pulls her makeshift goggles-slash-domino mask over her head. Those too, are dumped into the other plastic bag. Then she unties the bandana with the nose guard underneath, from around her mouth and nose. Unsurprisingly, they're also dumped in the bag.

Next, she undoes the velcros on her red and black padded gloves, black wrist guards, as well as black elbow, knee, and shin pads. Also dumped into the other bag. With the outer protective wear removed, Maladroit pulls her hoodie over her head. Continuing on, she peels the padded rugby body armour and shorts off, and then the thermal under-armour. All dumped into the third and final plastic bag. “I swear,” Maladroit mumbles to herself, “getting changed out my gear never gets easier. And to think back when I had my last P.E. lesson at school, I thought I'd never have to touch this kinda kit ever again. Rip me.”

Lastly, Marinette—no longer Maladroit seeing as she is no longer in her vigilante gear—throws on her running-to-the-bathroom spare bathrobe to cover herself. She hastily shoves the three plastic bags into the duffel bag and kicks it under her bed. Purposefully leaving it unzipped but quickly fixing the blanket covering the bag, so that she can more easily grab her kit to clean everything later, whilst keeping it sufficiently hidden.

With that mostly taken care of, she nabs the mouthguard case, some clean pyjamas, and dashes out of her room—clinging awkwardly to the bathrobe. She hops in the apartment's shared bathroom, the rest of the place is silent, meaning her roomie, Jason, must have gone out. Still, Marinette locks the door regardless. If there's one thing she's learnt in her foray into the nightly masked vigilantism, is that one can never be too careful.

“Shit! Nearly forgot to take this out.” She grumbles to herself, just as she was stepping into the shower. Prying the mouthguard out of her mouth as she shuffles over to the sink, she gives it a quick rinse under the tap. Followed by a thorough scrubbing with her toothbrush and glob of toothpaste. She pops it into the mouthguard case and leaves it on the side of the sink for now.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Marinette finally allows herself to indulge in a good half an hour-long hot shower to get the grime from a night of crime-fighting off of herself.

She's only just drying off her hair, having already changed into her pyjamas, when the blare of the TV echoes through the apartment. Tensing up, her anxiety runs wild. It's what they get for living in the cheaper but slightly dodgy apartments where the walls are thin and the doors are thinner. Grabbing the mouthguard case, she wraps it up in the bathrobe and peeks out the bathroom door and looks down the hall into the open plan kitchen lounge. Jason's back, he's sitting on the sofa watching the TV.

Shoulders untensing, she finished drying her hair and heads out into the hallway. In place of a greeting, she exclaims, “oh! Jason, you're back!”

Jason flinches slightly and looks over his shoulder back at her. “Yeah, a friend had an emergency so, y'know.”

Immediately, concern wrenches at Marinette's heart, “oh no, I'm sorry. Are they… okay?”

He waves a hand in a so-so gesture and clears his throat awkwardly. “Uh, yeah. They're fine now.”

“That's good!” She says, nodding, as she makes her way fully into the lounge and the TV catches her attention. “Oh is it nearly the eleven o'clock news already? I need to watch this! Alya texted me earlier saying I have to, and she sounded really excited!” Glancing down at the bundle in her arms and flushes red. “Actually, I'll be back in a second!”

“I'll yell as soon as it actually starts.” Jason offers, smiling warmly at her.

Marinette just misses the smile, rushing back to her room, and throwing a quick, “thanks,” over her shoulder back at him.

Also missing his smile turn fond and the good-natured roll of his eyes at her antics.

Barely half a minute passes before she's bounding back into the lounge, with a sleepy Tikki at her heels. She plops herself down on the sofa next to him and hopes the blush on her face could simply be mistaken for the flush of running about like a mad thing instead. Tikki whines until Marionette picks her up and lets her on the sofa with them, padding over to the furthest corner to curl up in.

Jason points to the pink floral steaming mug on the coffee table, right next to his Pride Prejudice and Zombies themed mug. “Whilst you were in the shower, I made us both hot chocolates with marshmallows, my granddad Alfie's recipe.”

“Oh!” Marinette responds in pleasant surprise. She turns to him and positively beams, eyes shining with happiness. “Thank you so much, Jason! You're always so thoughtful!”

He blushes and rubs the back of his neck bashfully. “Yeah, well, I thought it's only fair since you normally make 'em. And I visited Alfie recently, and I promised to get you his recipe to try, so I thought it'd be a nice surprise for once!” He pauses and points at the big bowl also on the coffee table, “also I cooked us some popcorn.”

“Aw! Thank you again! I really appreciate this!” She scoops up the hot chocolate with slight reverence and takes a sip. Immediately her face lights up even more in joy. “Oh, this is delicious!”

Jason chuckles, “isn't it the best! I'll pass that onto Alfie though, he'll be glad to know you like it so much. Speaking of which, he's gonna give making them a try next time I'm up since I wasn't there long enough this time. Would you fancy coming with me to see him, then?”

Her eyes widen and her heart stutters in her chest, feeling close to bursting from happiness. “I'd love to! Do you have a date when you're thinking of going up?”

He nods. “Yeah, maybe around—”

But he's interrupted by the starting audio of the eleven o'clock news.

They both immediately shut up and watch the screen intently as the news anchors appear on the show. The starting discussion is somewhat boring, talking about the local billionaire Wayne-or-something business and a related upcoming charity event of some sort.

Marinette doesn't pay attention to it, but she does catch Jason wrinkling his nose and scowling at the conversation.

Luckily, the topic shifts quickly enough. “And now, over to our newest reporter, Alya. We hear there's been some rumblings regarding the conflict between local vigilante Chat Noir, his sidekick Maladroit, and the gang controlled by the infamous Red Hood himself.”

“That's stupid,” Jason grumbles, “Maladroit is a fully-fledged vigilante in her own right and not just the catboy's sidekick. That's like saying Nightwing is Batman's sidekick!”

Marinette frowns, very touched by his words and trying her damnedest to appear nonchalant. “I don't know… from all the-uh news clips, Maladroit seems like Chat Noir's sidekick to me. She's always hovering nervously near him like a strong wind would spook her.”

“C'mon! She's been reported to have held her own against Red Hood on multiple occasions, alone!” He argues, sounding rather offended on her alter egos behalf.

Scoffing, she shakes her head. “Clearly that's because he's going easy on her! He's never directly shot her, according to the reports clearly, he's soft on her!” The lies taste bitter on her tongue.

Jason splutters and flushes bright red, turning away from her slightly. “W-well that's obviously a testament to her skill and not Red Hood's mercy! He's always reported as being a merciless killer, why'd he be soft on her!”

“I don't know!” She makes a dying-choking noise as she flushes even more red than earlier. Shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth to avoid having to respond any further.

Luckily, the news shows pans over to Alya standing in front of a screen showing a recorded feed of a warehouse. Not just any warehouse, but specifically the one on fourth that Maladroit had faced Red Hood in less than an hour ago.

Marinette feels her pulse quicken at the reminder of the close shave she'd had.

“Hey wait a second, those warehouses don't have security cameras at all? How'd they get this footage?” Jason complains, eyes narrowed at the TV.

It feels as though ice has been poured down her spine at his words. She freezes, body stiffening in shock. He's right… G said there's none because that's why he asked me to check things out. The only people who'd know this are Chat, Gamer, myself, and Red Hood and his gang. She swallows thickly and tries to subtly side-eye Jason. Oh no. I've been crushing on my roommate who works for Red Hood's gang? Oh god! The friend with the emergency was referring to Red Hood calling him into work!

She can't help but inhale a shallow panicked breath. He could've been one of the lackeys shooting at me and Chat this past week. Or, or I could've hurt him with my yo-yo. Or—

Jason turns to fully face, clearly registering the blatant panic on her face. “Hey, hey, hey, Marinette, you're okay, you're safe. What's wrong?”

“Are you working for Red Hood?” Marinette blurts out, accidentally, the words pouring out in an unintentional panicked rush. “Are you in his gang?”

He jerks back, fear, confusion, and hurt crosses his face. “Wh-what? What makes you think that?”

“His gang was just in that warehouse, and you were out on an emergency for a "friend". And how would you have known unless you were there tonight and working for his gang?” She chews her lip forcefully and winces as the taste of iron floods her mouth.

He reaches towards her, eyes widening concern.

She flinches back, suddenly reminded of how similar this is to that moment with Red Hood on the warehouse balcony.

Jason jerks back as if her flinching burnt him. Raising his hands, he leans away from her to give her some semblance of space. “Fuck. Look, I'm not going to hurt you! Have I ever hurt you whilst we've been roomies?”

Nervously, she shakes her head.

“I really care about you, Marinette. Hell, we've lived together for nearly a year now. I would never hurt you, okay! I promise.” Tears prick in his eyes, and he grimaces slightly, lowering his hands to rest on his lap. “Yeah, I uh, I'm working for him. But I do everything I can to keep work from following me home. I didn't tell you because I never wanted to scare you.”

Guilt gnaws at her. “I'm sorry! I shouldn't have judged. I—” She takes a shaky breath, “I really really care about you too. I'm just worried, what if Red Hood, or even Maladroit, or any of the other vigilantes hurt you? What if you get hurt in one of those gang wars?” Her words aren't lies but they're not the full truth either.

He sighs, “I can't promise I won't ever get hurt on the job. Maladroit and the other vigilantes do a lot of good but Maladroit especially is far too nice to hurt any of us. I've uh, seen her fight some of the others gang members, and been fought by her too. And out of everyone against the gang, she's the one who leaves us with barely more than a scratch at worst.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Most in the gang really respect her for that, y'know.”

Marinette's brain feels like the windows shutting down sound. “Oh. Oh.”

Sheepishly, he smiles half-heartedly at her. “Yeah.”

“So, is that why you were so adamant she's a fully-fledged vigilante in her right?” She asks, feeling bashful yet honoured whilst completely surprised.

Jason clears his throat and glances away. “Uh-huh.”

“Oh.” Her brain rewinds a moment. She splutters for a second, desperation racing through her. “Wait, she's fought you!?”

Full-on grimacing, he nervously laughs. “Left but a scratch!”

“Are you misquoting Monty Python right now? Oh good gods, that's the knight who says that after getting his limbs chopped off!” Marinette exclaims, looking every bit as horrified as her tone of voice conveys.

“Seriously, I've never gotten worse than a couple of minor cuts and bruises, I'm fine!” Jason reiterates.

She frowns and gingerly shuffles across the sofa closer to him. He keeps leaning back away, so she physically throws herself at him, pulling him into a tight hug. Incidentally burying her face in his shirt. “Okay, okay. Just, please let me know next time you get hurt. I've a friend who lived in a bad situation before, so I know how to help patch up minor injuries. Promise?”

Jason stiffens at the hug and slowly moves one hand to cup the back of her head whilst wrapping the other around her back. He shuts his eyes, cocking his head back and sighs. “Alright. I promise I'll tell you. And I'm sorry for keeping something this big from you. As I said, I was worried you'd be scared of me or that you'd get dragged into gang-related shit because of it.”

“You don't need to apologise.” Marinette mumbles in response, “I get it. I really do understand.” She bites at her sore bleeding lips again in guilt, her secret identity left unspoken on her tongue.

He shrugs, “so uh. I'm guessing you're still happy to stay roomies then, right?”

“Of course!” She responds without missing a beat hugging him even tighter.

Eventually, they release each other from the embrace to finish their now lukewarm hot chocolates and popcorn. The news continues playing, no longer forgotten in the background as the two try to act as if nothing has changed.

———

Jason collapses onto his bed with a heavy sigh. He pulls out his phone and rings a number on autopilot.

The dial tone plays as the line connects. “Hey, whaddup Jay?”

“Holy fucking shit balls, man.” Jason groans. “I fucked up.”

Roy hums, “like need help burying a body fucked up or what?”

Jason groans even louder, smushing his face into his bed covers. “My roomie is smart, right. I accidentally let a tiny detail slip when we were chatting whilst watching the eleven o'clock news as usual. And she now thinks that I'm in Red Hood's gang.”

There's a long pause, before Roy bursts into raucous laughter. “Holy shit, I'm dying! She's not wrong!”

“Yeah. I know. She ain't right either though.” He grumbles in response. “She was absolutely terrified when she realised. Nearly had a full-on panic attack and everything.”

“Oh fuck.” Roy helpfully says.

Jason grunts in agreement. “She was also real concerned that Red Hood or the vigilantes have hurt me.”

“Well, that's better?” Roy offers, sounding rather unsure of his own words.

“Yeah but she's taken thinking I'm some low-level member of my gang this badly, how the fuck d'ya think she's gonna take finding out I'm the big bad Red Hood himself?” Jason sighs. “I don't want to ask her out without her knowing this, 'cause it could endanger her.”

Roy hums again, “well, you've been roommates this long already and she's been completely safe from the Vigilante-Gang life so far.”

There's a gentle thump as Jason lifts his head and throws it into the sheets again out of sheer frustration. He relents, reluctantly. “That's true…”

“See. And since it sounds like she's not planning on moving out, clearly she doesn't mind living with you. Just ask her out to dinner already.” Roy adds, cheerfully.

Huffing, he rolls over on the bed. “I'm starting to feel like those weird girl slumber party ads with the creepy phone-a-boy games.”

Roy wheezes, followed by a thudding noise and the distant sound of his cackling.

“Wow. And to think I called you for help. I'm offended.” Jason goads with no bite, waiting a few seconds to hear Roy's response but it's just more laughter.

He rolls his eyes and ends the call, not like Roy will mind. Throwing an arm over his face, Jason barely refrains from grabbing his pillow to scream into. He doesn't, obviously. Because the walls are thin enough that Marinette might hear him and he's worried her enough this night as is.

Sighing like a lovesick protagonist in a period romance novel, Jason moves his arm to run his fingers through his own hair. A date. Just gotta ask her at some point, to dinner at a fancy-ish restaurant. It'll be fine, what's the worst that can happen?

Her terrified reaction on the sofa flashes through his mind, followed by the reminder of how small and scared Maladroit had seemed when she had fallen to her knees on the warehouse balcony. There was no way that she was faking the pain, like he'd initially thought. She had practically staggered in her mad dash to escape. And there's no way for me to find out whether she got to somewhere safe afterwards. God, she could be lying dead in some dank alleyway for all I know right now. Fuck, I hope she's okay...

He groans in distress and shifts in place. Already feeling like he really won't be getting any sleep at all tonight at this rate, thanks to his concern for those two.

———

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic! Comments, Likes, and Reblogs are much appreciated! |

| I decided to go close to canon for names this time, hence why Chat Noir remains unchanged but Max is Gamer (because A. that was his Akuma name, and B. he's like Player from Carmen Sandiego in this, couldn't help myself), and Marinette is Maladroit (from the first thing she calls herself in Origins). |

| Oh, also whilst it's not explicitly stated in the text; Marinette/Maladroit's has the power of luck/being lucky, Chat Noir has the power of being unlucky, and Red Hood has "Perfect Aim" aka he's a hitscan. Which is why Maladroit is able to dodge his bullets by making herself "lucky enough" to dodge in time. |

| Also feel free to send me any comments with any questions you have regarding this fic, I'll be more than happy to answer! |

| @jasonette-july-event |

#Maribat #MLB x DC #DC x MLB #Jasonette #Jasonette July #Jasonette July 2021 #JasonetteJuly2021 #JasMari #MariJay #Marinette x Jason #Jason x Marinette #Jasonette July Saturday Challenge #Jasonette July And They Were Roommates #Crack Your Bones and Say Those Lies #CYBaSTL #Sham's Posts #Sham's Writing #Sham's Fics

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mizelophsun11 · 3 years ago

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Mizeloph's Tale Chapter 1

Pairing - The pairing will change, in the beginning it will be General Kirigan x OC Sun Summoner and then eventually shift to Kaz Brekker x OC Sun Summoner

Summary - The Fold, a black mark that had always seemed to consume the earth it covered, so many lives have been taken, will there be more? Anna is brought to the brink of darkness with her friends, they must fight together in order to survive and with that secrets are revealed.

Word Count - 1627

Anna and Alina were traveling with their crew to the Fold, map makers who only had the stories of others to know what was awaiting their views. When they arrived Alina and Anna got out and looked at the menacing clouds of darkness that formed the Fold, the very monstrosity that had taken so many lives. Anna pulled her hair back into a ponytail with a few strands kept out, she also pulled her hood up wanting to hide her hair as much as she could. They were making their way to the tents when they heard their names called by a familiar voice.

“Anna! Alina!” The two girls turned their heads around to see Mal, their best friend

“Mal!” Anna smiled seeing Mal, it had been so long since she had seen him

“Mal!” Alina said watching him approach them

He slung his arms around his best friends shoulders and started walking to the tents together “I didn’t realize you two were coming in today” Mal said happily

“Yeah, this is our stop before we head south, when did you get in?” Alina asked

“Just yesterday, I found out when I got here that I would be assigned to your group” Mal kept walking with them

“They can’t seem to split our little group up now can they” Anna smiled

As they got closer to where their tents would have been Anna noticed that they had been moved. This caught Anna's attention, so many First Army soldiers were in this camp area, what reasonable answer would they have to move their tents. Unfortunately for them the reason was standing right in front of them practicing their small science, Grisha.

“That is why our tents got moved” Alina said

“Because some Grisha wanted some extra room, how nice.. Some show offs, all spoiled and bullies. I wish we could just be left alone sometimes, home was better than this” Anna said, as she watched their little demo

“You really think home was better? They were so mean to you” Mal said

“Oddly enough I would take that orphanage, where they would call me an abomination, over the way Grisha treat us, they act like we are nothing, completely expendable...” Anna really could not stand the Grisha she had met so far, they would go after her odd hair color and just treat her like the dirt under their feet

They headed to the tents and organized their things before heading to a larger tent where people were to be told of their assignments. A man with an appearance of age and greyish hair stood higher than the rest ready to make his speech.

“Alright right, all of you listen up! I know some of you have been on the road for a while so I will try to make this short and sweet. There are three destinations, most will go North to Fjerdan, another is south to the Shu Han border. However, a selected few will be assigned to the shiny new Sandskiff just outside this tent, if it works, that means full meals, bullets for your guns, sugar for your tea and even a little bit of whiskey to celebrate, but don’t hold onto that, the thing still needs to work. Now, here is the list of people who will be making the journey through the fold” he got a piece of paper out that had the names of the people who would be assigned to the Sandskiff.

Mal smirked “it should be called ‘the nightmare lottery’ if you ask me” Mal said, both girls laughed at his joke

“Sergeant Yure Teplov, Tracker Malyen Oretsev…” the list continued for a few more names

“Wait.. why would he say your name? I thought you were coming with us to the south” Alina said

“Maybe it was a mix up” Anna tried to counter, she did not want to think of the possibility of Mal facing the Fold without her and Alina

Mal decided that he would talk with the man who had just announced his name to make sure that he was for sure meant to be on the skiff. After dinner the friends all met up and realized that Mal was indeed meant to go on the skiff. There was tension in the air that night and the trio did not get a lot of sleep that night, Alina and Anna were worried for Mal. In the morning Alina decided to take matters into her own hands and went to the tent where valuable maps of areas on the other side of the Fold would be. This is how Alina was going to get her and Anna on the skiff with Mal so they would not be separated again, she would burn that information. However, what Alina did not expect is that yes her and Anna would be going, but her entire crew as well. As they arrived onto the skiff Mal spotted them, taken aback as to why they were here.

“What are you two doing here, you should be heading south right now” Mal said

“We have been assigned with you, some maps where damaged that contained information for land on the other side of the Fold” Anna said looked around on the skiff

“I could shoot both in your feet” Mal offered

“I think we like our feet don’t we Anna?” Alina countered

“Yes I think we do” Anna knew that there was no way Mal would be getting them off the skiff “After all this was an order, and orders are orders” Alina knew Mal could not get them off this skiff

“You two get off this boat now” Mal said trying harder to save his two best friends from having to face the Fold

However before they could even move they heard someone yell “Raise the Gate!”

“We are in this together Mal” Anna said

“We will make it Mal, promise” Alina said walking over to her post

Both Anna and Alina were standing close to each other on the edge of the skiff watching everyone moving around. People were making sure that everything was in order before they entered the fold.

An Inferni walked to the center of the deck “Alright everyone here is how things will go. We enter the fold and it goes dark, but we like it dark. The blue light at the mast is the only light we need, it allows us to travel without drawing any attention to ourselves”

Raisa looked at the Inferni confused “but if you are an Inferni, how are you helping if we need to keep things dark?”

“For when the dark comes to keep you” the Inferni looked up at the Squaller

“Ready to launch!” A sailor yelled and the Squaller started to put wind in the sail moving it forward “That’s our cue” she looked around making sure everything was in order “alright Cartographers listen up! Until we reach the western dry docks, you are to remain at your stations. I repeat, do not leave the skiff during the crossing..” the skiff approached the Fold and pushed through the darkness “In we go”

Shadow, it was consuming, as if the sun had gone out and nothing was left. There was rumbling in the distance, the loud crack of thunder that drowned out the growling sounds of the flying terrors that were in the sky.

“Marker 1” the Inferni said as she passed Anna

“How many markers are left?” Anna asked, even though she had crossed the Fold once before that had been a long time ago and she tried to forget about it

“37” the Inferni said walking by her

As the skiff continued forward the growling of the flying monsters seemed to start getting close. Guns were cocked, ready to shoot anything that decided to get too close for comfort. Suddenly, for some unknown reason the blue light at the mass flickered until it was completely out and there was no light left to guide them through the dark. A soldier not knowing any better lit a lantern in order to try and see not knowing it would be their demise.

“What are you doing? Blow it out you fool!” the Inferni said but it was already too late and the Volcra started to swarm the skiff.

Chaos. Everything became very chaotic with everyone trying to somehow survive this massacre. There was firing of gunshots and screams of the people on the skiff that were being taken by the attacking Volcra.

“Come at me you coward!” yelled the Inferni before she was snatched and her body ripping in half by the force of being grabbed and thrown into the side of the skiff

This was all too much for Alexei, every scream and drip of blood brought him to his decision, he jumped off the skiff and began to run away “No! Alexei!” Alina yelled shocked that everything was unfolding

Suddenly a Volcra appeared and grabbed Mal by his shoulder “Mal!” Anna yelled, getting up from where she was and grabbed a rifle on the floor and shot the Volcra, it let go of Mal and flew off

Alina and Anna ran to where the Volcra had dropped “Oh Mal..” Anna said with tears in her eyes

“I’ll meet you two in the meadow” Mal weakly said as he tried to stay awake

“No Mal, please stay with us..” Alina said

Suddenly another Volcra appeared, ready to grab onto Alina but Anna shoved her out of the way to try and protect her from being taken “Anna!” Alina yelled trying to hold onto her from being taken away.

Light. As if the sun had been called upon the volcra surrounding the skiff had been obliterated in an instant.

Author Note - I am overjoyed that there are people who are enjoying this story! If you are reading and would like to leave a comment at the end please do, I really enjoy seeing what people have to say. Another side note, I will add people to the tag list that would like to be added, please let me know and I will gladly add you!

Tag List - @rika90 @itsemy01

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #ben barnes #freddy carter #general kirigan #kaz brekker #general kirigan x reader #kaz brekker x reader #grishaverse #grisha fic #the grisha series

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jmoriarty-221b · 4 years ago

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New AU idea: I’ve found out that there’s some versions of the Batman comics where Tim Drake becomes Red Robin straight off the bat (he was never Robin & didn’t go to Batman) so I’m running with that

This Tim Drake doesn’t find Batman all that amazing, he recognizes Batman as a hero and as a symbol of Hope for Gotham, but he also sees him as just one man trying to make a difference, he holds more admiration towards Robin, specifically Jason’s Robin since he knows Gotham in ways Batman doesn’t, he checks on the street kids and the homeless, makes hot chocolate runs for the working girls when he can, and he is more interested in helping those in Crime Alley, a place where Batman and the previous Robin didn’t tend to patrol before Jason

And Tim has never been a normal child, there’s really no way for him to be human but there’s also no way to prove that he isn’t human, he passes the DNA tests, he doesn’t have a meta gene, he doesn’t have a mutation nor a difference in genetics, physiologically? There’s nothing to prove that Tim is anything other than human. In practice? Tim isn’t exactly limited if he cut off a limb, if he were to be shot in the head it would take approximately five minutes for him to heal back up, he can decide whether or not a wound will leave scars on his body, he can choose whether or not a mortal wound would put him in the ground permanently, most importantly, he can choose whether or not to contact his crew from the Isle that was supposed to be his home

There’s a reason as to why Tim isn’t exactly fond of heroes, after all, heroes decided to sentence countless of children yet to be born to a life of pain, suffering and poverty amongst an island filled with villains, heroes are the ones who put a barrier over the Isle that prevented its occupants from accessing their magic, heroes are the reason that his fae sisters and djinn brother and sea witch cousin and pirate friends are unable to access a part of themselves, he reason that they are unable to grow up properly and learn to control and feel and channel their magical cores, heroes are the reason for why him and his family hide behind fake names, and if it wasn’t for his parents’ quick thinking and preparations to flee then heroes would’ve been the reason he would’ve also grown up imprisoned and unable to access an integral part of himself

So no, Tim isn’t exactly impressed by the Batman

But Gotham exudes a similar signature as the one of the Isle of the Lost, making it the one place to where his parents could establish themselves undetected as the pollution would obscure their magical signatures had anyone looked for them, of course, Tim wasn’t old enough to learn how to lock down his own magical core in a way that wasn’t detrimental to himself, so he couldn’t be taken out of Gotham to accompany his parents on their numerous trips around the world, and such was his boredom that he decided to take advantage of his lack of adult supervision and explore Gotham

Having been taught about what became of the people he would’ve known as family from his parents as well as reading up every book he could in the ancient family library regarding long distance communication with magical kin, Tim ends up with a plan to meet with kids on the Isle as soon as he can, it turns out that establishing communication with the Isle requires for him to be in a part of Gotham that has the same atmosphere as the Isle, so Little Tim sets up shop in a semi secure rooftop in Crime Alley and establishes communication, needless to say he’s in for a surprise because “Oh wow why are you there Mr. Hades, you could escape any time and there’s no way those mortals could hope to contain your power, so why are you on the Isle?”

Turns out that attempting communication from a place surrounded by death and sorrow would lead to Tim establishing a magical video chat with the Lord of the Underworld, who’d’ve thunk? Anyway, Hades is literally just chilling for the next hundred years on the Isle because it’s easier to agree to mortals’ demands than obliterate them, and it’s less paperwork too so win-win, and one afternoon he’s suddenly communicating with one of the cutest little chipmunks he’s seen (kids are cute, and Tim is still a baby so he’s Tiny Cute) who introduced himself as Timothy Dwake and isn’t that just precious that the little tyke still has trouble with his r’s but how is he able to communicate with him on the Isle oh, that’s Janet’s kid, well shit guess he has a godson now (Janet had always wanted for Tim to be protected and that’s why she had been one of the few to escape the Isle, she had been a good friend back in the day so it seemed only fair for him to return the favor by looking out for Tiny Tim; it has nothing to do with Tim’s very cute face and slightly chubby cheeks that he kinda wants to pinch and his cute little lisp no Persephone I’m not attached-)

Anyway, so Tim ends up learning from his Uncle H on how to control his magical core and how to defend himself against physical and magical threats, he has a talent for using shadows to conceal himself as well as to listen in on others and gather information, if he concentrates really hard he can even manipulate shadows into solid figures, once he told this to his Uncle new training lessons began and now Tim is able to maintain his shadow constructs solid for longer periods of time as well as give them shape, over time he would learn more control over his ability and it will become easier to make weapons from shadows, his Uncle H also trains him in combat, particularly lost forms of combat from ancient civilizations

One particular night Tim wasn’t able to go to their meeting spot in Crime Alley, there was an Arkham Breakout and he wasn’t about to be caught up in that shit because could he fight off some villains and protect himself? Sure, but that would mean a possibility of getting the Batman’s attention and he’s not about to do that so staying at home it is, and now he is walking alone in the Drake gardens, he has no one to practice his fighting techniques with, no one to talk to, no one to teach him about what’s happening in the Isle, no one to teach him how to control his powers and his parents are gone for most of the year and they say that they’ll take him with them when he’s older but they’ve been saying that for years and now he’s much better at concealing his power and the King of Auradon believes he put every villain away for good so it’s not like they’re searching for his magical signature anyway so WHY WON’T HIS PARENTS TAKE HIM WITH THEM!?!?!? WHY IS HE ALWAYS LEFT ALONE!?!?!?

As he got progressively angrier, Tim hadn’t noticed how his power became stronger, how shadows grew larger, nor how the ground seemed to tremble and crack, it wasn’t until the ground literally split in front of him that he realized that maybe his power may have gotten out of hand, a bit, maybe, to be fair, he didn’t mean to summon a skeleton warrior with who he could practice his fighting with but hey, silver lining and all that, and he has something else to tell his Uncle H about in their next meeting (Hades may or may not have blessed his godson, and the blessing may or may not have given Tim some sort of control over his domains)

Anyway, eventually Tim learns how to see what’s happening in the Isle on his own from a sort of bird’s eye view, he sees what kids his age are going through and tries to find ways to alleviate the pain, he begins to talk to the kids and establishes rapport with them, he becomes friends with little Uma and Harry by bonding over swordplay, he gives Jay and Carlos tips for how to find the best hiding spots, he learns from Evie how to hide more stuff in his clothes and how to add more protective fabrics to his wardrobe, he and Mal bond over high parental expectations (she reminds him of Hades sometimes, and he thinks her eyes are a very pretty green with gold flecks sprinkled in, he may have a crush???) (Psssst, Mal likes Tim’s eyes too, she thinks it’s very pretty how they seem to change shades depending on his mood and when he’s happy they match her purple hair) *cue cuteness from these unfortunate little beans because yes*

Anyway, Tim has been working on creating a portal to a secluded part of the Isle from where he could send supplies to kids there, he was 8 years old when he started looking into this possibility after managing to make friends with the kids and now, at 13, he has finally managed to make it happen, he can only send non-living things through the portal tho, because although theoretically he Could send himself over, then he’d be stuck behind the barrier and couldn’t access his magic so that’s a big no, and he also can’t take the risk of getting someone from the Isle out because he can’t guarantee their safety (he tried with small insects and one time with a mouse; they died); the first thing he sends are medical supplies, food and bottled water, at first it’s only for his close friends, then they all establish a sort of routine and plan to get these supplies to other kids while hiding what they’re doing from their parents behind the guise of building their own gang on the Isle, Uma with the pirates and Mal with the inner city, Tim becomes their sort of advisor on important matters having seen what strategy tends to work when recruiting people as well as how to better approach street kids, he gets nicknamed the Shadow Angel for helping from behind the curtain, literally

Tim continues to learn as much as he can from his Uncle H, shadows Robin around Crime Alley, avoids gaining Batman’s attention and acquires supplies to send to the Isle three times a week from different places (he’s gotta cover his tracks, otherwise he runs the risk of getting Batman’s attention even if it’s just because the same person keeps buying food, water and medical supplies from various stores each week) but Tim has money, and he has experience regarding gangs and their recruiting and internal works (he’s helping his friends make their own gangs after all) and these people are in need of help as well, so he decides to make his own ‘gang’ by hiring people to do supply runs for him, he poses as a recruiter and gives fliers with information about his own gang and the benefits that joining will have (health insurance, dental, payed maternity leave, payed recuperation period, payed physical therapy and medical bills in case Batman decides to pop in, education is provided for anyone who wishes to get their GED and continue their education, etc); in the end, Tim keeps the Boss’ identity a secret until he reaches adulthood because no one would take a kid seriously, but he ends up amassing his own gang in Gotham while at the same time improving the life of people in poverty areas like Crime Alley and the Bowery

Of course, everything comes to a head when Mal, Evie, Jay and Carlos are elected to go to school in Auradon leaving Uma as the only leader on the Isle, meanwhile Tim has been keeping tabs on Robin and gets to save Jason from Joker in Ethiopia (turns out being able to summon a skeleton army comes in handy when rescuing Robin from a deranged psychopath like Joker) so Tim is simultaneously saving Jason while still trying to remain anonymous to Batman (he’s built and maintained an entire gang in the most crime ridden part of Gotham for years, he’s not about to get involved with the Bats now)

So Tim only finds out about what happened to Mal, Evie, Jay and Carlos until they’re already in Auradon and decides you know what? Fuck it, I’m gonna meet my friends face to face, besides, he can handle maintaining a gang in Gotham, he’s sure he can handle Auradon (update: he cannot, he’s this close 🤏 to rocking someone’s shit, he proposes overtaking the kingdom twice a day, he knows they could do it, and it’ll be easy even, but it’s the paperwork that’s holding them back, meh, let Ben do the grunt work and become an advisor, at least their manipulations would be in favor of improving the life of kids in poverty unlike other people who just want to get more money from their position close to the crown, gotta love politics)

Anyway, Tim Drake does become Red Robin, gang leader and benevolent overlord of Crime Alley and the Bowery, helping Gotham citizens and being the Shadow Angel of the Isle, plotting Auradon’s downfall for fun on his slow days as well as working on taking out the kids from the Isle and setting up safe houses for them for when he and his friends figure out how to save the kids

#tim drake #humor #Evie #Jay #Carlos #Mal #Uma #Harry #Villain Kids #Ben whatever his last name is #Auradon Kids #the Isle of the Lost is basically Crime Alley but worse somehow #Janet and Jack used to be on the ‘villains’ side #Janet used to help Hades #Hades sees Tiny Tim and decides he has a godson now #Tiny Tim and Little Mal thinking each other’s eyes are pretty #they have crushes on each other but they’re good friends and it’s cute #they deserve love #Tim becomes the Shadow Angel #he helps Uma and Mal make their own gangs on the Isle #then decides to make his own gang in Gotham because he could do it better #and he does #Batman doesn’t even know of the Red Robin gang #Tim still likes Robin tho #because Jason cares about Crime Alley and the people there #Tim saves Jason #Jason Lives #as he should #Tim goes to Auradon with Mal🤘🏻#he suggests treason everyday because it’s too sunny

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