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athenamikaelson · 4 months

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Written in the Stars

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 1

Word Count- 4.3k

Warnings- Swearing, blood, death, panic attacks, mentions of the confederacy (ew)

A/N- This will be a slow-burn series.

The reader has a brother, I know it’s not very X Reader, but it’s to help the storyline.

I brush down the black tie my younger brother is wearing, the satin fabric making me slightly cringe.

“Are you sure you’re not going to go? We can go show those stuffy old bitches how to really party.” I let out a small huff at Theo’s question, shaking my head amusingly.

“I’d rather not spend my Friday night with a bunch of Mystic Falls’ elite. Hearing them talk about how they’re so proud of their southern heritage,” Both my brother and I let out sounds of disgust, “the Confederates lost get over it.”

Theo stands in front of the hallway mirror and goggles himself. Where I am rather introverted, my younger brother is most likely the most self-confident person I have ever met. He has called himself, “A gift to the human race,” on more than one occasion. So it takes him about a good 9 minutes to gaze at himself in the mirror before we walk out the front door to the car.

We drive in silence, or I drive in silence as Theo hypes himself up in the passenger side mirror.

After a 10-minute drive that seems to have taken at least twice that time, we finally reach the long driveway of the mayor’s house.

“Why are you even going to this masquerade thing anyways, you hate dances,” I ask him as we wait behind a line of cars.

“Tyler is my football captain, and this thing is to honor his father, I’m here for my fellow man,” Theo presses a fist to his chest and puts on a fake sympathy look.

“So you’re actually doing it because you want to get on Tyler’s good side so he puts you on Varsity?”

Theo’s sympathetic look drops and is replaced with a shit-eating grin, “You know me so well.”

As we get to the front of the line of cars, I hum along to the Coldplay song playing on the radio.

“So what are you going to do while waiting for me?”

I pull my car up to the front of the “house” which is really just a mansion.

“I have a feeling you won’t be here very long, or stay out of trouble so I’m just going to park somewhere and wait for you.”

My brother does a look that looks like he agrees with me about him getting into trouble and nods his head in agreement. I put the car in park and Theo unbuckles his seat and gets out, straightening out his suit as he goes.

“Bye nerd, don’t wait up!” Theo yells as he climbs the stairs walking past Mystic Falls’ elite. I let out a sigh and pull away to find a parking spot.

—

My fingers graze the pages of my book as I glance at the time, Theo has been here for over an hour now and hasn’t shown any signs of leaving. I bring my back up to continue reading when a figure in the distance catches my eye. I lean forward and catch a glimpse of who I believe is Elena Gilbert. Elena’s a popular girl in my grade, who I’ve probably had two interactions within my short time here in Mystic Falls. I don’t know much about her other than that she’s dating some guy named Stefan, her parents died in a car accident and her brother is in the same grade as Theo. Theo and Elena’s brother don’t hang out either because Theo says he’s a “stoner emo.” Theo’s never been one to keep his thoughts to himself.

Elena seems to walk with a slight limp which makes me slightly concerned but nothing to make me go out and try to talk to her. I hate talking to people in general, especially kids my age. Elena has always seemed nice but I’m not taking the risk.

Or at least I wasn’t until I saw a man in a mask start following behind her. I may hate interacting with people but I would never let another girl get attacked if I had the power to stop it. The next thing I know I’m hopping out of my car and jogging behind them.

“Elena behind you!” I yell to her, but I freeze as the man hits her and knocks her to the ground. I let out a yelp as I turned to try to get help but a sharp pain hits my skull and everything goes black.

—-

“Y/N, can you hear me?” A voice comes from above me and a wave of nausea washes over me. My eyes open and close a dozen times trying to get used to the bright light before I can focus on the person in front of me. Elena Gilbert. Why is Elena Gilbert in my bedroom? I mean she’s really pretty and all I just thought she had a boyfriend. I’m not a homewrecker.

“Oh thank god you’re awake!” Elena whisper-yells to me as she brushes a piece of my hair behind my head and grimaces when she looks at my forehead. She brings her hand back and a wave of fear and disgust washes over me as I see her hand covered in a red liquid. Blood. My blood. I try to bring my hand up but Elena stops me.

“Don’t exert yourself we don’t want it to bleed more, okay?” She gives me a small smile but something about it makes me feel uneasy. I don’t understand why until I turn my gaze away from her and look at our surroundings. Dirt-covered walls, glass-covered floors, and a mildew stench are what take focus. I’ve always been sensitive to smells but with the addition of my raging migraine, I am fighting the urge to keep down the rising bile in my throat.

My breathing starts to quicken and I can feel the start of a panic attack starting to make an appearance.

“Elena, where are we?” I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t understand what I was saying since my words seemed to be jumbling together.

Elena glances around us and gives me a solemn look.

“I don’t know, I woke up here a little while ago before I was knocked back out by the people that took us. I’m truly sorry about this Y/N, I would never wish for you to be a part of this.”

I furrow my eyebrows at her last comment as if she were responsible for the reason we were taken.

“It’s not your fault,” I shake my head and start tapping my fingers together one by one. It’s a thing I do whenever my anxiety gets too strong, almost as a way to ground me.

Elena’s eyebrows mirror mine and she goes to say something but a young man with shaggy hair walks in.

“Oh goody, the other ones awake. How are you doing sleeping beauty?”

The man starts to walk over to me with a look in his eyes that makes the bile in my throat inch even closer to the surface. But within another second Elena stands from beside me on what I can see now is a couch and blocks me from the man’s view.

“I’m the one you want, Y/N is innocent, just let her go.”

I want to back Elena up and defend her too but with the migraine and the onslaught of emotions I’m feeling right now being verbal isn’t something I see happening in my current future.

“You’re right Dopalicious, she’s not, but I can’t just let her go, what if she were to go and warn those friends of yours? Can’t let that happen now can we?”

Elena goes to stand her ground but within a blink of an eye, Elena is shoved backward and lands on the other side of the couch. I jump backward at the action which gives the man the opportunity to come in front of me. I start trembling as I look up to him I try to push farther back into the couch but I’m squished into it as far as I can go.

“Stay away from me,” Finally able to find somewhat of my voice again. This doesn’t seem to scare away the man, and honestly, I don’t blame him. My voice sounded like it came from a scared 5-year-old.

“Just a taste, I’m starving.” My mouth opens to question what he says but a millisecond later I feel myself being grabbed and a sharp piercing attacks the left side of my neck. I’m hyperventilating and screaming at the same time somehow as I hear Elena’s yells from beside us.

“Don’t touch her!” Elena’s yell comes from beside us and I’m thrown away back onto the couch. I’m disorientated as I look up to see the man before me rubbing his cheek and Elena standing next to him holding her right hand. She’d punched him. My vision strays from Elena’s red knuckles back up to the man, who has something dripping from his mouth. My chest feels like it locks up as I stare at the liquid dripping, everything seems to be going in slow motion for me as I watch the drops start at the man's chapped lips to the drops of blood falling onto the cracked hardwood floors. Wait, blood. He has blood dripping from his mouth. Had Elena punched him that hard? I start to believe that possibility until I feel a wetness drip between my chest.

My already shaking hand comes up to my chest as I swipe a finger along the liquid. My vision blurs as the red liquid drips from my fingertip down into the palm of my hand. I can’t register Elena’s voice as she kneels in front of me and presses something to my neck. The blood coating my hand is all I can see and smell.

“Y/N….Y/N! Just focus on my voice ok, breathe. I think you’re having a panic attack.” A cool hand is pressed onto the side of my face and I close my eyes at the embrace.

“Ok that’s good, I’m going to stand you up to get a better look at your neck ok?”

I feel like I’m running on auto-pilot or something else is controlling my body and mind as I stand up and grip Elena’s upper arms to keep myself steady. Elena returns the pink fabric from my neck and leans down to glance at the wound.

“Ok, it’s not as bad as I had originally thought. Just keep this here and it’ll help control the bleeding.”

I must still be in shock because Elena has to bring the shirt to my hand, wrap my fingers around it, and finally press my hand into my neck. The shock of pain washes through me and brings me back to reality. My vision can’t seem to focus on one thing for too long as my eyes keep darting from the blood on the floor, my blood, to the look on Elena’s face, to the man standing behind us with a scowl on his ugly face. Blood, Elena, man. Blood, Elena, man. Blood, Elena, man. This sequence continues until another person enters the room, a woman.

“He’s here.” The woman with a pixie cut says, her voice seemingly scared.

The man next to us shifts his scowl into a look of pure fear.

“This was a mistake,” He rushes over to the woman and shakes his head.

“No, I told you I would get us out of this. You have to trust me,” She tries to talk him down which only seems to freak him out more.

“No! He wants me dead Rose,”

The woman points at Elena, “He wants her more.” I glance to Elena who is standing in front of me slightly as if to hide me from the two strangers or cannibals. Since I’ve calmed down momentarily and I’ve begun to stop the tears that had unbeknownst to me had fallen on my cheeks, I’ve realized that I’ve been kidnapped by cannibals, that being the only reasonable explanation I can come up with.

The two cannibals start arguing about some man but I turn to Elena who looks almost as scared as I feel.

“What’s going on Elena, who’s coming?” I whisper to her.

Elena turns her head slightly to me and gives me a frown and a shake of her head.

“A man named Elijah, but don’t worry ok,” Elena grabs my free hand and holds it in her own, “I’m not going to let them hurt you anymore ok?”

I nod trying to find comfort in her words but the girl in front of me is 17 years old and maybe 120 pounds I don’t see how she’s going to protect us both from two cannibals and whatever mega cannibal these two are terrified of. I don’t know if the other guy is a cannibal but using context clues I’m guessing he is.

“What are we?” The woman’s voice brings my attention back to them as I see her grab his arms. This seems to calm the man down.

“We’re family. Forever.”

I might’ve found this endearing if it weren’t for the fact the man had my blood drying on his upper lip and they were literal cannibals.

A loud knock startles all four of us as Elena and I both shoot each other wary glances. Our hands are still intertwined. I don’t usually like being touched but given the circumstances I can let this slide.

The woman looks over at Elena and me as Elena slightly turns her head, “You’re scared.” Elena comments. The woman says something else to her friend and then runs up the stairs

—

What seems like forever of waiting and pacing around is broken up by footsteps coming from the top of the banister. I can feel Elena freeze up from beside me as we both look up to see a man in a suit staring down at her. The man has dark hair and eyes and a chiseled face. Why is this cannibal not ugly? Wrong Turn had it all wrong. We all stand there watching Elena and the suited cannibal stare at each other. I can feel Elena’s shaking hand in my own and try to comfort her by squeezing her hand to let her know I’m right beside her. That is until the man transports himself from the top of the banister to in front of Elena in the blink of an eye. The movement has me losing my balance and falling back onto the couch.

No one seems to notice me as my panic attack starts to build up as I try to understand how this is possible. How could he have been that fast, it’s impossible. Oh god, I'm going to throw up.

“And who is this?” A deep voice comes from above me and my stomach flips at the sound. Defiantly going to throw up.

“She’s no one. She has nothing to do with this, just please leave her alone.”

Hearing Elena’s voice makes me raise my head and I regret it instantly because I lock eyes with the suited monster who is now standing above me staring down at me. The man’s face instantly goes slack as his eyes meet mine, a look of recognition seems to pass through his dark eyes as they move fast across my face. The man opens and closes his mouth many times as if he can’t quite find the right words to say. The slack expression from before softens into something that makes my stomach flip again. This guy is so going to kill me when I throw up on his expensive ass shoes. His soft, dark pink lips curve up at the corners slightly.

“You’re real.”

These are the first words to come out of the man’s mouth. Everyone else in the room seems to know just as much as me with what he’s talking about because they all have looks of confusion on their faces. Feels somewhat comforting to be on the same page as everyone else for once.

The man doesn’t once take his eyes off of me this entire time though, “What is your name, Elskan?”

I freeze under his stare and try to avert my eyes, this gives Elena the ability to step in for me.

“Her name is Y/N,” I look to the man as he mouths my name slightly to himself as if he wants to know how it sounds on his tongue, “Please don’t hurt her Elijah, she doesn’t even know about the supernatural, I’ll go with you willingly.”

Elena’s words make me freeze up. What does she mean by supernatural? I flinch as the man, Elijah, brings his hand up. This stops him for a moment.

“I would never harm you. You have my word on that.” I can only sit there frozen as he cups my face with his hand and uses his thumb to brush a stray tear away that must’ve fallen during one of my many panic attacks. He seems delighted at the moment until the soft expression he has on his face darkens into something that makes that bile rise even farther up. His eyes dart from the top of my head and drag themselves down to my chest and neck. I try to move away but his hand has a soft but firm hold on my face.

“Who did this to you?”

My eyebrows furrow at his question, and I must’ve not answered quickly enough because he turns to glare at Elena. Which makes her flinch.

“The head injury is from the kidnapping and then the bite is from um,” she glances towards my neck and then to Trevor who looks like he’s about to internally combust. She goes silent again at Elijah’s stare and he turns his attention back towards me. The glare was long gone and replaced once again with a softer look.

“I see. Here,” I have to swallow back down the bile as I watch the man rip into his wrist and put it in front of my face expectantly. I sit there in horror and quickly look to Elena who doesn’t look as surprised as she defiantly should given that this man just BIT HIMSELF.

“It’s true Y/N, it’ll heal you.”

I open my mouth to say something which must’ve somehow been an ok to the man as he presses his wrist to my open mouth. I’m about to push him off, or at least try, but stop at the heavenly liquid that spills into my mouth. Elijah brings his other hand up to brush back my fallen hair.

“Good girl, Elskan.”

Elijah removes his wrist and I sit there silently staring at my lap as I realize what I had just done. I just drank fucking blood, and I liked it?!??! Oh god, does this make me a cannibal now?

Elijah seems to be fighting an inner battle as he moves his eyes away from mine and onto the man behind us. Elena and I watch before us as Elijah approaches the scared man/cannibal thing. Thing because I’m not sure what the actual hell is going on here.

“I’ve waited so long for this day, Elijah. Truly very sorry.”

Trevor says with a bowed head as Elijah circles him. Almost how a predator would circle its prey.

“Well, no, your apology is not necessary,” Elijah responds but something in his tone doesn’t sit right with me.

“Yes, yes it is. You trusted me with Katerina. And I failed you.”

“Well, yes, you are the guilty one,” Elijah glances at him and then up to the woman, “And Rose aided you because she was loyal to you. That I honor…”

Elijah comes to stand in front of the man, “Where was your loyalty?”

“I beg your forgiveness.”

The oxygen in the room seems to be dwindling as everyone watches the interaction.

“So granted.”

The deep breath I was to let out is replaced by a scream and I can only watch in horror as Elijah throws his hand over to the man who decapitates him. A heart-wrenching wail comes from Rose and I can’t seem to take my eyes away from the body-less head that is lying in front of me.

“I’m going to-” Vomit spits from my mouth and onto the floor in front of me, the burning from the back of my throat causes tears to build up and block my vision. I feel someone lift my hand and hold it away from my face. For a second I thought it was Elena before Elijah’s voice came from beside me.

“I’m truly sorry, Elskan. I shouldn’t have done that in front of you.”

I lift my head to stare at him and find him kneeling right next to me. He reaches into his front pocket grabs a fancy napkin and wipes my mouth with it. Not seeming disgusted just saddened. He wraps his hand in my mind and stands me up.

“We can leave now, we have quite the journey ahead of us,” Elijah leads me over to where Elena is standing and motions for her to follow.

“No! What about the moonstone?” She questions him.

He stands in front of her with a small scowl, “What do you know about the moonstone?”

“I know that you need it. And I know where it is. I can help you get it”

Elijah nods his head, “Tell me where it is.”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

Elijah’s eyebrow twitches in annoyance as he glances back at Rose, “Are you negotiating with me?”

Rose just shakes her head and tells him she doesn’t know anything. Elijah then turns back around to stare at Elena for a moment before scowling and reaching up to her necklace, ripping it off.

“What is this vervain doing around your neck,” He throws the necklace behind him and grabs Elena by the neck, dropping my hand in the process. I go to try to get her away but Elijah shoots me a warning look that has me freezing in place, “Tell me where the moonstone is.”

In a monotone voice, Elena replies, “In the tomb underneath the church ruins.”

“What is it doing there?”

“It’s with Kathrine.”

The rest of their interaction is cut short when a glass shatters from somewhere upstairs. Elijah comes over to me and grabs me by my waist bringing me into him almost protectively.

“What was that?” He asks Rose.

“I don’t know.”

“Who else is in this house?’’ To which he gets the same response.

Elijah grabs Elena quite harshly with his free hand and guides both of us to the top of the banister. His hand never moved from the top of my hip. Once we make it to the entryway something rushes by us, Elijah pushes Elena off into Rose’s arms but never drops his hold on me.

“Up here.”

“Down Here.”

A voice call from the top and bottom of the stairs caught all of our attention. Elijah lifts his hand from my hip and motions for me to go over to Rose.

“Don’t let her out of your sight.” He warns her as he moves to the staircase.

A moment goes by before something flies through the air and pierces itself through Elijah’s hand. I let out a yelp but Elijah doesn’t even seem fazed.

My vision is blurred for a moment as I now standing next to Rose with an unfamiliar dark-haired man in front of us. He motions with his finger to be quiet. Ya as if I was going to say anything anyway.

“Excuse me,” Elijah’s voice comes from below, “To whom it may concern. You’re making a grave mistake if you think that you can beat me. And you can’t. You hear that? I repeat, you cannot beat me. So I want the girls on the count of three, or heads will roll.”

The man who has his hands on Rose’s and I’s mouths moves his head to glance at Elijah downstairs.

“Do we understand each other?”

“I’ll come with you,” I perk up at Elena’s voice. Wondering what the actual hell she was doing. But the blue-eyed man in front of me shakes his head at me telling me not to move.

“Just please don’t hurt my friends. They just wanted to help me out.”

“What game are you playing with me? Where is Y/N? I won’t be leaving without her.” Elijah’s skeptical voice questions her. There’s a sound a medal, and then a loud boom, before Elijah lets out a yell. The sound for some reason makes my chest feel like it wants to cave in on itself. Rustling and fighting sounds come from below us before the man holding Rose and I leave. Rose runs after him, but I can’t seem to get my feet to work so I just sit there on the dusty floor staring at the wall peeling wallpaper in front of me.

A few moments pass before I hear Elena’s voice along with two unfamiliar men, one who I’m assuming is the blue-eyed guy from before.

“Where is Y/N,” Elena asks.

“Are you talking about that girl that smells like vomit?” A snarky voice questions her. If I hadn’t just gotten kidnapped and had one of the worst days of my life, I might take offense but I did just get kidnapped and honestly, I do smell like vomit so he’s not wrong.

“I think she’s over there.”

Footsteps get closer to me as I look up with tears in my eyes at Elena. She gives me a small smile before kneeling and wrapping her arms around me in a hug.

“What is happening Elena?”

“I’ll explain everything if you want me to ok? Let’s just get out of here first ok?”

Elena stands up and reaches down her hand for me to take, and with a deep breath, I do.

#author #athenamikaelson #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaleson imagine #thecwshows #the originals #klaus x reader #the vampire diares imagine #theoriginalsimagines #thevampirediaries #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson #stefan x elena #stefan salvatore #damon salvatore #the vampire diaries #the originals x reader

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saekkas · 1 year

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𝟏𝟗𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖

summary: you’re not a believer in airport crushes. you think the theory that people look better when you’re bound to never see them again is delusional. that is, until fushiguro megumi comes and proves you wrong.

notes: megumi finally debuts on saekkas (clap clap). also, this may or may not be inspired by real life events hehe

early mornings have never been your forte. the wind bites your cheeks, prickling your skin with goosebumps that range all the way from your arms down to your legs. even the hoodie you’re wearing– the thickest, comfiest one you own, doesn’t help shield you from the elements.

it doesn't help that the air conditioner is on full blast.

“i swear to god,” you mumble, expression souring as strong winds crash against the airport’s ceiling high windows. in the distance, trees sway around erratically, crashing against each other as the sky turns a bleak gray. “if a hurricane comes, at least let it hit after my flight takes off.”

the line to check in is unnaturally long and it takes almost half an hour until you’re seated at the gate, an hour early before your flight departs. better safe than sorry, your mother always said.

the seating area is nothing but crowded, and as pregnant mother tries to calm her baby’s wails by swaddling him in blankets, you curse yourself for booking economy. a private longue with wifi and food sounds good right now.

tucking yourself into the furthest seat from the wailing baby, you breath out a sigh. your legs have been killing you for the past hour and you have no one to blame but yourself for not choosing more comfortable shoes.

there’s minimal noise in the area, being that it is far more secluded from the others. the only sounds you can hear are of footsteps and bickering from the trio sitting right across from you. one of the boys, the one with pink hair and a red hood over his head, is in what looks to be the deadliest game of rock-paper-scissors you’ve ever seen with a girl that has short brown hair.

your eyes flicker towards the last of the bunch– a boy who looks like he’s around your age with an unruly mess of hair on top of his head. he’s calm, minding his own business with a book in his lap, and legs crossed elegantly. the sweater he wears is black, oversized, and the fabric looks to be so soft.

you’re not a believer in airport crushes. you think the theory that people look better when you’re bound to never see them again is delusional.

you might just eat your own words because he’s actually cute.

you don’t know how many times your eyes have gravitated towards him in the past hour, but you know it’s probably enough to tip his friends off. from the corner of your eye, you see the girl nudge him repeatedly before very obviously pointing your way.

at first, he ignores her– goes back to reading his book like she’s a fly buzzing around his head. he’s probably used to it, you muse to yourself, chuckling in your head.

and then you feel it. the pinpricks of his stare. so pointed and sharp now that it’s directed at you.

the notes app is your only friend as you type against the screen of your phone. you feel stupid– like a schoolgirl who’s just been noticed by her crush, trying to seem busy as if you haven’t been staring at him for god knows how long.

when he looks away from your general direction, you lift your head– trying to get a glimpse of his side profile for, what you promise yourself to be, the last time.

only to meet his gaze straight on.

you hear his friends snicker, nudge their elbows against him as you look to the side, too embarrassed to even think of looking in his direction again. you hear his voice, low and smooth as he snaps, trying to make them stop. they only tease him more.

you hear the name megumi, picture the shy smile that spread on his lips before stiffening, quickly getting up from your seat when the intercom calls your flight number.

the staff are quick to usher the crowds of people into a neat line, herding passengers to their respective gates. your feet move on autopilot, making your way towards the double doors that lead to your plane.

you only stop when someone calls your name, waving frantically as they push through the people to get to you.

megumi stands in front of you, hair even more tousled than before. there’s a bead of sweat on his forehead that slides down the side of his neck and into his sweater. his eyes are green, reminding you of the forest, a piece of jade, and the color of your passport holder in his hand.

“you forgot this.” he holds the official document against his chest before handing it over to you. his fingers brush against yours, delicate and neatly trimmed, before they clench into a fist by his side. “you left it on your seat.”

“right,” you mumble, the sound wispy as if your own breath had been sucked out from your lungs. you bow your head in gratitude while simultaneously trying to shake away the daze clouding your thoughts. “thank you. i owe you one.”

the silence that stretches after is nothing if not awkward. you’re looking anywhere but him, and he’s doing the same. the staff guarding the gate watch– clearly gossiping about your little interaction with the male in front of you.

after a while, megumi nods once before turning back towards his seat, a muffled safe flight leaving his lips.

that's it?

you watch as he strides away, some parts confused and disappointed. his friends wear the same expression as you do, the girl practically screeching into his ear while the boy tries to push him back towards your direction.

megumi doesn’t budge, stone faced as he sits in between them. returning to his book as if nothing significant has happened.

maybe some things just aren’t meant to be.

you send the duo a wave, smiling when they do the same, before showing the staff your ticket and passport, heading straight down the gate, and boarding the plane.

you won't see him again anyway.

it’s only when you’re seated on a train, a thousand miles away from where you were, gazing out of the window as it speeds across Tokyo that you finally see a note slipped into your passport, one containing his full name and number.

i think you’re pretty. my friends think you’re cool. would you like to get dinner some time? – megumi fushiguro.

your pointer finger traces his handwriting, neat and cursive, and you let out a giggle because for whatever reason, it feels exactly like him.

to: cute sea urchin

[13:57] hey. it's the girl from the airport. [13:58] is sushi okay? it's my treat! i owe you one after all.

from: cute sea urchin

[14:23] yeah, anything's fine with me. see you.

to: cute sea urchin

[14:37] cool! can't wait to see you again, gumi!

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thelostgirl21 · 9 days

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So, you are telling me that Jaskier used to wear outfits the color of the sea in Season 1...

That he constantly complains about his feet hurting, or struggling with keeping his footing while having to wear boots (is the problem his actual boots or a lack of early practice in life?!)...

That he got all excited at the thought that Geralt might catch him a fish to eat...

That a huge part of his identity and the pride he takes in himself is tied to his singing voice and abilities...

That his songs have been described as having the power to sing a king off his clothes...

That helping his best friend in the whole wide world bathe after rubbing soothing chamomile onto his lovely bottom is typical friendship behavior to him...

That he vulnerably asked for Geralt to get away for a while with him, and head to the (west?) coast, in the hopes that he might be able to prove himself a worthy [travel] companion (works whether you interpret the interest as romantic or queerplatonic).

And then he basically implied that (returning home with Geralt?) might be what would please him most.

That the very first thing he did after Geralt returned to him and got him out of his cell in Season 2, is take off his top and jump into the freaking nearest body of water!

That he's hypersensitive to the way people on land start stinking after a while (including himself), and will openly suggest they should bathe (or downright bathe them himself)!

That he talks with animals...

That you had him fall in love with a human prince in Season 3...

... then had him sing a song about a human prince that falls in love with a siren to Ciri right before you had him go meet with said prince, share his first kiss with him, and make love to him in a woodshed!

... only to show a clip from "Sirens of the Deep" revealing that the Netflix version of Jaskier is from

Bremervoord

a.k.a. The vassal state of Cidaris and one of the places that goes the furthest west into the sea on the Continent!

Bremervoord, with an economy running primarily on pearls fishing.

Bremervoord, the place where the story of Jaskier's Season 3 song, "A Little Sacrifice" takes place...

A place where a prince (though I think it's a duke in the actual short story) meets a siren, falls in love with her, and willingly leaves his human life behind to follow her at sea.*

*according to the song, at least! And I'm not sure it ends well for the prince of the song, because that part about him sinking to darkest night sounds a bit ominous if you ask me... The book's short story has a different conclusion.

You're basically telling me that Jaskier comes from a place on the coast that goes far into the sea to the west, a place where merpeople and humans occasionally interact, and that he didn't really feel like talking about where he's from, because he felt like the only way for him to ever be able to "become himself" was to leave his home behind...

... AND YOU EXPECT ME NOT TO LATCH ONTO THAT POPULAR MERMAN!JASKIER THEORY?!

OR INSTINCTIVELY START DEVELOPING A BUNCH OF HEADCANONS ABOUT IT?

For example :

What if Jaskier keeps repeating that "he's just a bard" not because he's actually dismissing how good, influential, or powerful he is...

... but because he chose to give up his tail to permanently become a human, and he doesn't like to be reminded that he doesn't quite "fully belong" with humanity, because there's something a bit different and "unique" about his singing.

What if, growing up as a merboy, he'd kept feeling like he was born in the wrong body and with the wrong species given his brethren's attitude about singing as an artform.

What if when merpeople sing, they typically rely on pure melodies without lyrics, and argue that only humans and other species of the land - with their inferior vocal capabilities - must rely on something as primitive as words and lyrics to inspire emotions and make ideas take root into other people's minds.

What if they do have a singing speech pattern, but when it comes to artistic expression, the songs are purely melodic.

But Jaskier, after listening to some of the folk songs that the local bards enjoy singing by the fire at the beach, often accompanied by a lute or other instruments, fell in love with the way the words of those songs flow and sound.

Perhaps he revealed himself to Essi then, and that, instead of being scared of him, she agreed to show him how to play the lute, speak her language, and sing the way humans do.

And when he did fully grasp the beauty and the power of using verbal poetry into songs, he knew he could never look back.

What if Essi was the first person to ever really see him for who he was and treat him as family, hence why he loves her like a little sister.

Maybe "the Lettenhoves" are basically a group of merpeople with no actual blood relation, that lost their own families and were rejected by them when they chose to make the full transition from merperson to human.

By pretending to be blood relatives, they've managed, however, to realistically pass as a large human noble family, acquire a bunch of lands and estates over the years that is passed to each new generation that wants them, and each new member is given a certain amount of money when they become one of the Lettenhoves to begin their new life on land!

They aren't extremely close, because they each have their own lives and personal ventures (very few go into singing careers), but they are still people that understand what being a human born at sea feels like, and that will be there to offer each other help and support if need be!

And so, Jaskier was able to go study at the University of Oxenfurt and learn as much of the human world and its arts as he could!

But, while his voice remains a bit more powerful and influential than most humans that were born on land, that influence comes with a "curse"...

Most people that instinctively fall under the charm of his melodies (note: Jaskier can use his voice to make an audience more susceptible to anger and annoyance when he sings, too. An especially useful skill to have when you're relying on food being thrown at you to eat... Hence why Geralt's lack of emotional response to his singing when they met was so intriguing!) will typically only care about how they make them feel, rather than how Jaskier himself was feeling when he wrote his songs.

Geralt, Yennefer and Ciri are all immune to his siren charms - and dwarves appear to be more resistant as well - but, while his songs inspire people, and hearing him sing them "live" with his actual voice tends to make people become instantly infatuated with him (or immediately hate him, should Jaskier wish to repel rather than attract them)...

... they rarely ever see him or seemingly attempt to connect with him on an intimate, emotional level, like they would with another human being.

And so, every time Jaskier is reminded of how much influence he appears to have over how people see the world when he uses his voice, Jaskier's tendency to remind them that he's "just a bard" is because he wishes people would connect with his humanity, too, rather than what he can do.

Regardless of him being able to pass as someone that was born on land and started his life in a fully human body, he knows that his voice will always carry some remnant of his siren abilities.

And that this difference appears to be preventing him from emotionally and physically connecting with other human beings that weren't born at sea like him, the way he wishes he could.

And so, that's why he was initially hesitant to sing for Radovid, and he kept insisting that he wasn't in a "singing mood" that day.

Because he knew that, the moment Radovid heard his singing voice, he might stop listening to him and trying to connect.

But there was something in the way Radovid insisted - while asking for Jaskier to pick his favorite song and showing a sincere curiosity about listening to what pleased him most - that made Jaskier ultimately choose to risk it.

And, while Radovid was obviously affected by the sound of his voice (to the point where he felt the need to pretend his speechlessness was caused by drunkenness), it was also very clear that he'd been listening.

Not only was his gaze very sharp and his eyes clear and bright while Jaskier was singing - seemingly attempting to analyse every note and word - but, for once, the things Radovid was complimenting him about weren't related to his ability to make people feel and experience things...

For once, what Radovid was claiming made Jaskier so special wasn't the beauty or power of his voice, or how catchy the melodies of the songs he'd sang to him were.

It wasn't even about how Jaskier's lyrics had made him feel.

He'd told Jaskier that what made him so special was his ability to see people for who they really are rather than who they pretend to be.

He'd essentially told him that his ability to truly comprehend those around him was his gift - that he had a unique ability to connect with them at the core... the very thing Jaskier had always felt that he was lacking.

And when Jaskier pushed him for more, all Radovid told him was that he didn't know yet, but was determined to figure it out.

"You connect strongly with others and my desire is to understand and connect with you."

That is what Radovid had taken away from who he was, even after having heard him sing, and Jaskier couldn't help but feel like he'd found a kindred spirit in that human.

Someone stuck in a world and a birth family that simply couldn't understand and accept him as he was - constantly hiding parts of himself to survive.

Radovid had then agreed to help him with the whole situation with Rience - despite the fact that Jaskier hadn't used any song to attempt to suggest he should, just genuinely asked for his help.

And - if that hadn't been enough - that prince had gone one step even further by asking him if Geralt knew how lucky he was to have him, after Jaskier had been singing about his self-worth issues when it came to relationships and his fear of never being good enough - or human enough - for a fellow human (or mutated human) partner.

He'd been listening to him.

He might have been born on land, and he might not have been immune to Jaskier's siren abilities, but Radovid still hadn't lost sight of who he was, nor been tempted to start obsessing about owning him or treating him like a prized possession.

And so, Jaskier tentatively begins to allow himself to hope...

Until Radovid does something truly unexpected that none of his prior human, elven or dwarven suitors or lovers had ever done before...

Learn his song.

Sirens are typically immune to the power that another siren's voices carry... until they fall in love.

One of the ways to know if a fellow merperson is alterously or romantically drawn to you is to sing back one of their own melodies to them, and see how they will respond.

Should they feel that instinctive, near irresistible pull towards the melody, and vice versa, then the two sirens will often start trying to discover and explore different ways they can learn to harmonize and use their voices to complement each other's, and create new shared melodies that will resound through the sea.

And, for the very first time in his life, Jaskier finally understands how people feel when they listen to him sing.

Despite the fact that the "siren's melody" being sung back to him is a human song he wrote, with human lyrics, accompanied by human instruments...

Despite the fact that Radovid himself is most definitely not a siren but very much human - fumbling a bit with Jaskier's lute, visibly nervous, too shy to allow his voice to rise above a whisper...

To Jaskier, it's the most beautifully mesmerizing "siren's melody" he's ever heard in his existence! It's filled with warmth, love, understanding, a promise of unconditional acceptance and safety...

It's absolutely intoxicating, he can barely breathe, feels like he's on the very edge of losing his sanity, and it takes all the power he has to avoid launching himself right at him!

And if a human can make him feel this way singing back to him a song filled with poetry and lyrics - rather than a classic, traditional siren's melody - then maybe there's never been anything wrong with Jaskier or the way he's always preferred to sing!

His people made him feel unwanted, but the sea never did! It probably would have been welcoming to a lute-playing merman singing like a bard, if his people hadn't been such close-minded arses!

Jaskier feels at home on land and has never once regretted his choice, but maybe he still has a right to also be a child of the sea, regardless of him having ultimately chosen a pair of legs over his fins!

And maybe Radovid would love to see parts of his old home some day - even if they can only access the surface of it, rather than go explore everything hidden in the water's depths (unless Yennefer has a spell that would allow Radovid to breathe under water as he does. Because Jaskier would never trust a sea witch with Radovid's life!).

And if Jaskier himself can be mesmerized by Radovid's song and feel like he would let that man lead him anywhere and do whatever he wants with him, without any desire to own and control him; maybe he'd simply been trying to connect with the wrong people.

Radovid is the first person he's ever met that seems to be able to connect with both the human and the siren part of him. And when Jaskier offers to help him work on his lute playing and singing, what he's truly saying is that he wants them to learn to harmonize their voices together and create their own melodies...

It's an intimate need Jaskier still has, and he's finally found himself a mate that appears to fully get him, and be able to fulfil those needs.

Of course, then the whole mess with Cirilla happens, and for a moment there Jaskier loses faith that any of it was ever real!

Who was he kidding!? The Redanian Intelligence kept insisting that they knew everything about everyone! Maybe they'd figured out Jaskier used to be a merman, done their research, noticed that Jaskier "fancied" the prince, and instructed him to surprise him and trick him into lowering his defenses, by courting him the way a fellow merman would!

He really should have known!

But then, when he finds Radovid alone, lost, and hiding, he realizes that Radovid had never meant to trick or hurt him.

Radovid had just been genuinely afraid, and trying to deal with the threat of a looming war as best he could by seeking Ciri's help.

And now, the war he'd attempted preventing from happening had begun, he'd clearly internalized Jaskier's earlier blame, and that spoon of a man was sufficiently bonded to him by now that he might just allow himself to be captured and killed if he doesn't do something about it!

And then, Jaskier himself might end up symbolically 'washing ashore' somewhere and letting himself die of heartbreak, for fuck's sake!

Because merpeople are dramatic as fuck and they feel the loss of friends and family in a way that's devastatingly sharp. Being rejected by a queerplatonic or romantic partner - or having them die on them - is the worst type of injury one could inflict upon them!

When he'd sung about having also survived, no thanks to Geralt, he'd fully meant it! That loss had nearly killed him!

If he wants to survive this, he needs to figure out a way to keep Radovid safe, and then make sure that Geralt and the rest of his family are safe also, because he doesn't know how he'd manage to continue to live in this world if the war ends up taking everything from him in a way where all hope would be lost of ever getting any of them back!

#Jaskier #Radovid #Radskier #Geraskier #Merman!Jaskier #My Posts #My Thoughts #Seriously Netflix why did you do this to me!#I'm supposed to be trying to get shit done right now to prepare for the new dance session starting next week #And finishing writing those WIP fics #And answering to a bunch of stuff (haven't forgotten about you #@my-jokes-are-my-armour #I swear!)#NOT having a little merman!Jaskier gleefully swimming and running around my brain hijacking everything and ensuring nothing else get done!!#Fucking hell!#Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?!

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t3a-tan · 1 month

Text

Romantic and Hopeless (3/?)

First / Previous / Next

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Ever since Oscar learned more about the truth of his soulmate's situation he had been doing nothing but thinking of how to help. He wasn't the type of person to sit back when someone was suffering so now he had been restless in his search for a solution. He thought about contacting the police, but he didn't want to break Rabbit’s trust.

So it all came down to him. He had been skipping school every day, spending his time searching online for whoever Zorro Ryker was. Thanks to it being a unique name it was easy to find results, but actually trying to figure out where his soulmate might be being held was a different story. In passing conversation she mentioned something about being underground, but that didn't really narrow the search.

He even spent money on some sketchy sites in order to get a hold of more information about the man… at first his results were pretty normal and uninteresting, but he noticed that by looking deeper into the darker sides of the internet, the name ‘Ryker’ appeared more often.

Zorro Ryker was a man who ran a launderette that was a surprisingly short distance away. At the same time, Ryker was a man with various connections on the dark web.

Isn't it a thing that launderettes are often a front for shadier businesses? He decided he would just go check it out, even though he was extremely nervous. The launderette was not open for 24 hours, and so he decided to wait for Sammy to say hello again to go inside, since that meant Ryker wasn't there.

He was eating at a place opposite the launderette, sitting at the window as he ate, occasionally glancing towards it.

“Hey, Fox.” There it was. Oscar's heart fluttered at the sound of her voice, feeling even more determined to go ahead with his plan. He doubted he would find her this easily, but at the very least he would get closer to doing so. Ryker might have left clues to her whereabouts after all.

Oscar glanced towards the launderette, seeing a man closing up. He fit the description of Ryker exactly, and Oscar's fist clenched at the sight. He looked away after a moment, to finish his food and to not call attention to himself.

“Hey yourself, Rabbit. Still holding up okay?” He asked as he clasped his hands together in his lap. I'm gonna get you out of there. I promise.

“Yeah. As much as I can anyway… How's your day been?” She asked back. For the past few days Oscar hadn't told her anything about his plan; not about his research or about skipping school.

“It's been alright. Mum hasn't gotten back yet, so… we'll see. Freddo came over to play some video games— he just headed out like…half an hour ago.” He responded, still not letting her in on the plan because it might just stress her out. He watched as a car pulled out from the street, seeing that Ryker was the one driving and that he was leaving fully.

I'll wait five more minutes.

He spoke to Sammy for a bit longer, before getting up from his stool and leaving the fast food place he had been waiting in, heading towards the launderette.

First, he was checking for security systems. This wasn't his first rodeo— when his mum went away for a long time when he was younger he had broken into a few Tesco Expresses at night for food. He scoped out the outside, mindful of cameras, before beginning to pick at the locked door towards the back of the shop.

Once he was in he laid low, just looking around for some kind of backroom where Ryker might be keeping information. After finding what seemed to be an office he entered, moving a bunch of books and papers around…. Until suddenly, the floor began to move.

Oscar yelped, stomach dropping as the part of the room he was standing on seemed to turn into an elevator, eyes wide with alarm. Oh god. Oh god. A secret elevator? Should I really go down?

He was nervous, mostly because of the mention that Ryker owned a gun, but he took a deep breath and stayed determined. I have to find something. She can't just stay there forever.

As the elevator arrived at its destination, Oscar walked out, looking around at the oddly high tech surroundings. It looked like…a lab. And not the meth kind. He looked around, using his phone flashlight to see and being careful not to make too much noise or leave much evidence that he had been there.

“Wait. I think he's back.” Oscar bristled as Rabbit's voice registered in his head, instinctively looking towards the elevator he came from…but it was still there. Open. Unless…she can hear me?

“Do you hear him, or see him?” He asked. No response came. She's worried she'll be heard. But is she actually here somewhere?

The lab was big, with multiple rooms, some of which were just full of files and papers, and another that had a lot of intimidating looking machines inside. He felt an odd sense of dread looking at all of it— there was something about the odd devices that felt almost alien. Some parts of them even seemed to glow in the darkness.

Most of what he tried to read was written in a language he couldn't understand, using a script he couldn't recognize. Maybe it's a cypher..? How paranoid is this guy? He sighed and threw the papers back down onto the table, continuing to look for clues.

Finally he found something that was written in English. He flipped to a random page, flicking through.

However, it's not usual that I get to have a full conversation with either of the children, so I'll take what I can get.

Children? Rabbit and her brother maybe? Oscar's gaze drifted upwards on the page to find the context.

Subject 2 has a surprising amount of agility; a finding that developed when I found him out of containment whilst I had left the lid off. He was afraid of delving further about his talents. A pity. After Subject 1 incurred her most recent injury, I notice he's been a lot more restless and anxious. Due to her infection I have been keeping them separate for now so she can heal in the best conditions, but I understand that humans are social creatures, and children especially so.

Oscar raised an eyebrow at the detached usage of the word ‘humans’, but ignored it and continued.

I allowed him some roaming under my supervision in the hopes that this would allow me to observe his agility properly and that it would cheer him up. Subject 2 is usually very quiet, clinging onto Subject 1 like a parasite, but it took a surprisingly short amount of time for him to start talking today. He told me that his favourite colour is purple, and even attempted to engage with me and ask my own. It didn't take much prompting for him to tell me why exactly purple was his favourite colour, recalling a memory from before. I was disturbed to hear that Subject 2 can no longer remember his own parent's faces. However, it's not usual that I get to have a full conversation with either of the children, so I'll take what I can get.

Reaching the part he had first read again, he paused before looking to the next page, continuing the journal entry with furrowed brows. Subject 2… Is that Rabbit's brother? This must have been written before he… He took a deep breath and continued.

It's times like these that my resolve feels the weakest. I find myself wondering; if I had just given up my research, what would they be doing now? Is what I want to achieve really worth it? It's been so long now that the fiery anger I felt and revenge I swore feels cold and ashen. I cannot stop now though. I've gone too far. I don't expect forgiveness, but I hope the children will one day make peace with what I've done. Tomorrow I believe Subject 1 can be taken off of antibiotics. She will recover, I can only hope it's swift so she and Subject 2 are not apart for too much longer. I should avoid speaking with him alone too much lest I become soft. Empathy is something the enemy lacks, and so I must too be devoid of it.

Oscar frowned as he closed the journal and set it back down where he found it. He's a bloody lunatic. Really, what situation could ever warrant kidnapping children? At least there was a hint of remorse, but Oscar couldn't fathom a sane man getting to that point in the first place. And what enemy is he even talking about?

He swallowed nervously but continued exploring the lab quietly. So far there was no sign of his soulmate.

He entered the next room, and his attention was immediately caught by something to the left of the room.

A singular glass enclosure sat on the table. Oscar slowly approached, curious to see what pet Ryker was keeping…only for his gaze to fall upon a tiny girl. She was protecting her eyes, and Oscar realised he was still pointing his phone flashlight directly at her so he lowered his phone down, mouth agape.

He could barely make out any of her features in the dark, but what little light his phone provided from it's new position told him that she had dark skin and darker hair that was cut messily to hang around her ears. At first she had been squinting against the light but as she took in his appearance her eyes suddenly widened and she scrambled back.

Is that…?

“Rabbit…” He breathed, still staring down at her from behind his sunglasses— which really weren't doing him any favours in this room. He took them off so he could see better, before crouching down to peer through the glass better. “Is…is that you?”

He received no response, but Oscar was more preoccupied with the surprise of seeing someone so small. After a few moments of staring, his soft green gaze trailing up and down her tiny form, he finally registered that he was only making the tiny girl, who may or may not be his soulmate, more nervous by the second. He bit his lip.

“Well… If you aren't her, I'm still not gonna leave you here with that monster. You'll be okay, I promise..! Not gonna hurt you…” He reached down, carefully removing the lid of the enclosure and setting it to the side. Then he began to reach into the box prison, only to pause when he saw the girl scramble back away from his hand in fear.

Is this really Rabbit? Surely Rabbit would know I'm not a threat?

“No no no— I'm here to help, see? I'm not…like that guy keeping you. My name is Oscar. I'm gonna get you out of here…” He was hesitant to actually grab or touch the tiny person whilst she seemed so afraid. As nervous as he was, and as much as he wanted to leave as soon as possible, he had no idea what this tiny person had been through…but if it was like Rabbit, then he could understand why she was so afraid.

“Shhh…come on. I can't stay here… I know you're scared, but that monster isn't going to touch you again. H-here uh…” He turned off his phone flashlight, bringing it into the enclosure so that it was flat beside her. “You can climb on this so I don't have to touch you? You'll have to go in my pocket though when we leave the building.”

Slowly, and clearly with a lot of willpower, she climbed onto the back of his phone. Oscar could see her shaking from here and his heart clenched with sympathy. He had no idea what this person had been through, but it must have been a lot for them to get so small. Is this really Rabbit? She's not saying anything… she could be in shock.

“Easy…” He lifted the phone slowly, bringing it towards his chest pocket and holding it steady. “Hop in, and then we can leave. It's gonna be okay… I'll help you.”

It felt like his heart was beating out of his chest with anxiety as he waited. Every second that passed could be a second that Ryker would return. So far, if this wasn't Rabbit, Oscar had seen no other sign of her or clues to her whereabouts.

He watched as the tiny girl slipped into his pocket, marvelling slightly at how she disappeared entirely within it. He turned his flashlight back on, putting on his sunglasses, and began to walk towards the elevator again.

“We're in the elevator now, okay? Almost out. I'll take you back to my place for now, but I promise I'll help you find a way to get back to normal.” He assured, fingers tapping anxiously at the front pockets of his jeans as he waited for the elevator to reach the launderette again.

He didn't lock the door behind him, simply focused on getting home so he could fully focus on and speak to the tiny person he had found. She understandably wasn't very talkative for now, but he hoped when she realised he was safe she would be more willing to speak. He still needed to find out if she was Rabbit or not.

The winter air was cold and Oscar shivered slightly before looking down at his pocket.

“I'm gonna put my jacket on, so it'll get dark, okay? Still not gonna hurt you…” He explained softly as he started zipping his jacket up. Hearing no protest he zipped it the rest of the way. “It’s gonna be okay. Almost home.”

He placed his hands into his jacket pockets, fidgeting anxiously with the seams inside as he walked, looking around every now and then, worried he was being followed by Ryker. Once he was certain that the monstrous man wasn't there at all he let out a sigh of relief, his breath visible in the cold evening air.

You're gonna be okay. I promise.

#g/t community #ocs #g/t artist #g/t writer #g/t #borrowers #giant/tiny #g/t fearplay #g/t writing #giant/tiny writing #soulmate au

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gilbirda · 5 months

Text

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 25

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

Based on this post

First chapter || << Previous chapter || Next chapter >>

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“So you are saying that the Infinite Realms’ government is organized like a dungeons and dragons party?”

Danny snorted and patted Tim’s shoulder. “Jazz’s idea, actually.”

From where she was quietly talking with Bruce, Jazz huffed. “I never said it was a dungeons and dragons party. I only suggested the organization that fit our strengths better.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Potato, potahto.”

Jazz rolled her eyes, but went back to her discussion.

The group was walking towards the gardens, where a light lunch was served. Time went by as the Waynes asked anything and everything about the Realms and their rulers, now that there were no more secrets between them. They talked about Sam and Tucker and Valerie and even about Danielle, her origins and how she joined the team included.

The Fenton siblings enjoyed oversharing in a way that felt weird to the vigilantes, so used to hiding and concealing their thoughts all the time. Now that they were more comfortable, Danny and Jazz didn’t hesitate to act more inhuman around them, with the younger sibling floating when he got excited as if it was the more normal reaction.

It reminded Bruce of his colleagues in the Watchtower break room goofing around and using their powers for the stupidest reasons.

When Tim rejoined them, this time alone, he was more annoyed about losing the bet than missing the ghost royalty status reveal. Danny thought that was the funniest thing, and gladly started a new stream of oversharing information about Jazz’s princess status and all the titles she held, ignoring his sister’s attempts at silencing him.

They didn’t even notice lunch time approaching until Alfred reminded everyone in the house that they had to eat — yes, even their inhuman guests. The last part was added with a pointed glare and a short nod before the man walked away.

So now they were making their way to lunch, which was served outside given the nice weather despite being way into fall, chatting about Team Phantom and their roles in detail.

“So Sam is like the Barbarian of the team?” Tim pressed on. “And Tucker is the Artificer.”

Jazz huffed again.

“We are not—”

“Actually, is not that far from the truth,” Danny chuckled, “but not exactly just that. All of us are at least trained in one main duty and act as a backup for someone else. That guarantees that if one of us has to leave, nothing will be left unattended.”

“Like with Jazz being here.”

He nodded. “Jazz helped Tucker with all the record keeping and research in magical theory, as well as diplomacy and ghost law studies. Valerie helped Jazz with her main duties, and so on and so forth.”

“Magical theory?” Jason asked, one eyebrow arched. “Ghost law?”

“Sounds cool but it's actually just reading a bunch of books and trying to guess what they say.” Danny grumbled, rubbing his face. “I swear there is nothing that can make me pass out faster than reading those fuckers.”

“That’s because you don’t do your homework. Dorathea is a very good teacher.” Jazz chimed with a mocking smile.

Duke interrupted when Danny jumped to answer. “You said that the books weren’t Jazz’s main duty, so what is it?”

The young woman tensed for a second before putting on a gentle smile. It didn’t fool anybody, though. “I am—”

“Jazz.”

She turned towards her brother. “What?”

“Jazz, look.”

She frowned at his serious tone, the boyish glee gone completely, but turned to look at what he was pointing at.

It was a giant painting on the other wall of the room they just passed by, which was featuring a small family — a woman, a man and a child. All three were wearing nice clothes, serene smiles for the portrait.

“What’s the matter?” Bruce stepped closer to see what they were seeing, tensing when he realized what it was. “Why are you pointing at my parents’ portrait?”

The siblings looked at each other. “That’s your mother?” Jazz finally asked.

The look Bruce gave her was equal parts worried and calculating. “Indeed.”

Again Danny and Jazz talked to each other with facial gestures and looks.

“It can’t be.” Danny murmured. “Can it?”

“I don’t know.” She answered.

“Hey.” Jason grabbed Jazz’s shoulder. “What’s up?”

She glanced at her brother, frowning. She licked her lips and drew a long breath. “That’s Lady Gotham.”

One second passed by. Two seconds.

“No, that’s my mother.”

Dick giggled at the absurdity of the situation.

“Could she be wearing someone’s face?” Jazz ignored Bruce’s quiet breakdown to talk to her brother. “Or is it like ‘the Spirit passes down ownership’ kind of situation?”

Danny hummed. “I don’t think it is the second case,” he crossed his arms, “she felt like an Ancient and this woman couldn’t have been dead that long.”

“Are you saying that an ancient spirit is wearing my mother’s face?” The older man said, voice small. Even Jason frowned at the weakness in his tone.

Jazz seemed to snap back to reality and noticed that the conversation may not be the best given current company. She sighed. “We don’t know. Maybe. Was your mother special in any way for this city?”

“Are you kidding? Haven’t you heard about the Martha Wayne foundation? Or all the charity stuff in her name?” Tim scoffed. “Do you live under a rock?”

Jazz blushed. “I’m sorry.” She shrugged. “I don’t pay that much attention to current events outside my work and Crime Alley.”

Jason pretended to try to hide his smile in Jazz’s hair as he pulled her for a side hug.

Danny made a face at the pair, shook his head and turned towards Bruce. “We can’t be a hundred percent sure, but it’s not unheard of for an ancient Spirit to change their appearance. It’s usually to fit in as time passes; but taking the face of a real person from their hunt?” He tilted his head, and Jason noticed the similarity with his sister. It was adorable. “That’s a new one for me.”

“We can always ask?” Jazz tried to move past her misstep.

“Do you really think she’d want to talk about that?”

“Maybe. If we ask nicely.” Neither sibling actually believed these words.

Bruce blinked slowly and started walking again, lost in thought. The rest followed as if nothing even happened.

“Is she really that scary?” Duke asked.

“She is…,” Danny started, rubbing the back of his neck, “she is surely something else. This city is cursed, man; so it doesn’t surprise me that the Spirit overseeing this place is just as cursed.”

“What Danny is trying to say,” Jazz jumped in, “is that the Spirit of Gotham has been deeply corrupted and, well, she’s definitely in pain, and sometimes she lashes out.”

“That’s a nice way to put it,” her brother scoffed, shaking his head and not looking at anybody. “I don't know what nice and watered down version of the story Jazzy here told you guys but when we first came here, she was pissed. King or no King, she was ready to kill me.”

Jazz blushed again. “I don’t—”

“Yes, you do.” Danny rolled his eyes.

She looked like she had something to say, but chose to close her mouth and ignore the chuckles.

They finally arrived at the nice backyard patio where a table was already set up for lunch. Alfred walked around the table with his cart, setting down the plates and giving the finishing touches to the display.

Nobody missed his little smile watching them naturally divide in groups and sit down together, his eyes lingering on Jason refusing to let go of his girlfriend’s hand even under said girlfriend’s brother's snarky comments about it.

It had been a while since the Manor was filled with noise like this. It felt… alive. Like how it was supposed to be.

The old man quietly grabbed his cart and went back inside to plate the second course for the meal. He didn’t glance at the moving shadows and the trickster reflections on the corner of his eyes — after so many decades serving at this Manor, this family, he got used to not being exactly alone inside those walls.

***

“I don’t know how you are going to break it to Frighty.”

Jazz froze mid bite, frowning as she swallowed the food. “What do you mean?”

Bruce raised his eyebrows at Danny’s shocked expression. The young man looked around the table, maybe looking for support or an explanation, but he probably forgot they just met that morning.

“Are you serious?”

“What?”

“You really don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Jazz, Fright Knight has been courting you for around a year.”

Tim froze, glancing up to see Jason’s reaction. Expecting loud shouting to start, he was even more shocked when Jason leaned back on his seat and crossed his arms with a giant smirk on his face and a raised eyebrow.

“I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.” Jazz leaned in, glaring at her brother on the other side of the table.

“Hold on a second,” Dick pushed his empty plate aside to lean closer to Danny, “Fright Knight? The King’s right hand man? The Aspect of Fear?”

“That’s the one!”

“I don’t—” Jazz blinked, “I don’t know— How? When?”

“Uhhhh, since the first siege, I believe?” Danny's smile went from one ear to the other. “He said, and I quote, ‘I had never felt such things in battle before. Lady Jasmine’s war cries pierced my chest deeper than her lance pierced our enemies’.”

Tim shuddered. It was the way Danny impersonated this Fright Knight’s sickening dreamy voice.

“The first siege? That was more than two years ago!”

“And you haven’t noticed this guy being in love with you?” Jason spoke for the first time, grinning at his girlfriend.

“I don’t know?” Jazz threw her hands up. “I thought he was being nice!”

“For a whole year?”

“He’s been giving you courting gifts, Jazz!” Danny said, incredulous. “And you accepted them!”

“So those were courting gifts?”

“What were those gifts?”

“Swords.” Danny answered Jason. “Shiny blades. Ornamental and functional. Jazz has a collection back in the Realms.” He turned towards his sister. “Which, by the way, people keep sending gifts for you. I think they think that you are the ‘reasonable’ one of us and if they send you more swords you’d be more merciful.”

“I don’t need more swords.”

“You liar. You love swords.”

Jazz blushed, unable to say otherwise. “Still nothing he did told me he was interested.”

“Ancients, Jazz,” Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. “Everyone knew he was head over heels for you. We thought you were preferring to deal with it in private.”

Her blush became worse. She kept her gaze fixed on her hands fidgeting with her napkin. “You know I don’t do all the romance stuff.”

Incredulous, Danny just pointed at Jason. “And how do you explain him?”

“It’s…” she licked her lips, “different. Unexpected. We just— we clicked.”

“Awww.”

Danny made a face and rolled his eyes, ignoring Dick and Cass’ cooing.

“Well. I’m not going to be the one dealing with all that. Frighty is all yours.”

Jazz sighed. “I’ll talk to him when I go back to the Realms.”

“Hm.” Danny hummed, suddenly lost in thought as he sipped his water. “Maybe you don’t have to.”

“What?”

“I said: Maybe you don’t have to.” He spoke louder. “Come back, I mean.”

She did a double take. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Danny took a second longer than what was expected. “You can stay here.” He leaned back on his seat, putting as much distance as he could from his sister. He was also evading her eyes. “Permanently.”

There was only the sounds of the birds chirping in the nearby trees and the wind flowing between the leaves for a few seconds.

“Are you—” Jazz’s voice was careful, low, “Are you firing me?”

Half the table was looking at Danny and the other half had their eyes glued on Jazz’s face. Her rage, while quiet, was familiar to those witnessing the moment — betrayals, infightings and disbelief ran though their minds as they remembered similar situations in their pasts.

“Jazz—”

“After everything you just— What the hell Danny?”

“I’m not— Could you at least look at me?” She did, and everyone could see her watery eyes. “It’s for your own good.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

Jazz’s expression turned murderous as the tears escaped her eyes. She stood up, teeth grinding, breathing deeply a few times before she opened her mouth.

“You don’t mean that.” She crossed her arms.

Danny looked like he wished he was anywhere else but in that room at that moment. “Bad choice of words. I don’t mean that.” He slowly repeated.

“Good.” Her shoulders relaxed a bit, but she was still mad.

“What I wanted to say is…” He sighed and lifted his hands in defeat. “I’m sorry. I’m not good at— You know I always mess these things up— Okay, okay I’ll get to the point.” He quickly added under Jazz’s narrowing eyes. He breathed in, breathed out. “I want you to stay here. In the living world. As long as you want.”

She processed his words, and slowly sat back down. The sounds of nature around them picked up like nothing happened, even if no one had noticed their rather unnatural silence.

“But you said…”

“I know. But things have changed, Jazz. I want you to stay. How could I not be okay with that?”

“But— But my role— And the Archives, and Walker, and—”

“Everything can wait. Or, I don’t know, we’ll deal with it.” He leaned in and took one of her hands in his. “We told you to come here because you really needed a vacation, and I stand by it. The Keep can wait for you. I can wait for you.”

“But—”

“Jasmine Fenton. You have given up everything for me. You were not meant for any of this ghost bullshit or war or fist fighting gods in a Denny’s parking lot. But you gave me a decade of that, and I appreciate it, but that’s enough. You can rest now, you can have nice things. You deserve it.”

Nobody missed when Danny gave Jason, and quick look around the people on the table, when he mentioned the “nice things” she could have.

Jazz opened her mouth only to close it again, more tears coming to her eyes. Her cheeks tinted red, maybe from embarrassment, maybe for remnants of her anger.

She yanked her hand from her brother’s and rushed to her feet, taking a shaky breath.

“Excuse me.”

Jason frowned, watching her go back inside the house and probably looking for a place to calm down.

He felt a kick on one leg.

“Go.” Danny interlaced his hands on the table and nodded in his sister’s general direction. “She needs you.”

Jason’s frown deepened, but he obliged without saying a word.

Bruce cleared his throat, suddenly feeling very self conscious under Danny’s stare. The young man didn’t look affected by what just happened like his sister was, but his eyes betrayed the conflicted emotions he hid behind his mask.

“I’m sorry you guys had to witness that. I should have waited until we got home. My bad.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, but it felt like forced nonchalance.

“That was sure something.” Dick commented after clearing his throat.

“I apologize but I need to ask,” Bruce leaned in. “Jasmine seemed pretty adamant her time here was limited, that she would sooner or later have to leave everything here. What changed?”

“Did she tell you that?” Danny made an incredulous face and scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t even need to ask. I don’t know why I keep being surprised by her antics.”

“So it’s not true?”

What else had she been lying about? A tiny voice said in the back of Bruce’s head. He tried to ignore it, but given the drastic differences between Danny’s and Jazz’s behavior, he was wondering what was the actual picture and what was the siblings’ casual omission of truth.

“It was true, but only because she herself sets those limits. Jazz is…,” he sighed, deflating on his seat, looking at the sky, “I love my sister, and a lot, but she takes everything too seriously.”

Or you don’t take things seriously enough, Bruce thought, but chose not to say it.

“I never said she had a time limit, or that she had to turn her back on the living world for the rest of her life. We sent her ass to the Arkham internship because she doesn’t know how to take a break.”

“Arkham is a break?” Tim asked what had been lingering in everyone’s heads. The siblings kept referring to working at the worst psychiatric criminal facility, a vacation and a break.

Danny scoffed again, turning his eyes towards the young man. His smile wasn’t kind. “You guys haven’t put it together? The kind of role Jazz has in the Realm. The kind of person she… The kind of person I asked her to become.”

There was deep guilt in his voice, and in the way he couldn’t hold his gaze. Danny fidgeted with his napkin, letting the birds sing the tension of his silence away. They were waiting on him to elaborate, and he knew that, but was building the courage to speak.

“Do you guys know how powerful I am? No, you don’t,” he answered himself with a shrug, “because there’s no one like me. I could— If I wanted to, I could bring this city, the whole city, into the Infinite Realms. Just like that.

If I wanted to I could end the war with a snap of my fingers. I could Order every ghost-adjacent being to follow my every command and bring peace via total domination. Or,” he stopped his fingers, sighing, “I could just rip their cores with a thought and crush them with another and be done with Vlad and with every stubborn ghost that thinks I don’t deserve to be King.”

He finally glanced up at Bruce, as if he knew all these scenarios passed though the man’s head as he spoke. “Imagine that — Every conflict, every war, I could wish it away in seconds.”

The older man nodded, following his speech. “And yet you are here.”

Danny’s vulnerable smile reminded him so much of Clark’s. “I can’t. I can’t do that. If I— If I just eliminate every little thing in my way, what kind of person would I be? I’ve seen it happen, Bruce. I know what I could be if I lose perspective of who I really want to be.”

Cass lifted her hand like she was in a classroom. “Jazz. She’s your anchor.”

Danny went back to looking at his hands, shoulders sagging. In shame? In defeat? “All of them keep me grounded, even when I feel like I’m drifting away from who I used to be. But Jazz? She knows what needs to be done, what I’m scared to do. She knows she can handle the guilt and the nightmares and the horror.”

He took a long breath to calm himself. “Jazz is what I can’t— what I won’t be, and she took that burden like it was nothing. She has always done that, taking the bad things and dealing with them for me. It’s just… This time, the ‘bad things’ are a little bit more permanent.”

It made sense now. How she avoided talking about it, how Jazz tensed when she was asked what her role was. How she was so comfortable at Arkham.

“She’s your Executioner.”

Danny flinched at Bruce’s words. “She’s that and more. She became a counterpart for me, a shadow, so I could shine in the spotlight. A symbol.” He said the word like it was a curse. Bruce didn’t miss the twitch in his eyebrow. “Do you know why her armor is bright red?” His smile wasn’t kind when he looked up. “The Infinite Realms are green. She stands out and attracts all the attention in battle so the rest of us can be the heroes of the hour.” He chuckled. “She never wanted any of this. She didn’t defeat the previous King, she wasn’t even there. I know my childhood could have been way worse if she wasn’t in my life, and I’m grateful, but I kept asking more and more from her and now—”

“Do you really think I didn’t want this?” Jazz’s voice cut through Danny’s rambles. “I chose to stay, Danny.”

He didn’t react when he saw her walk in, her face puffy and her eyes still wet. Did he know she was listening? Of course he did — from what the vigilantes could gather so far, Danny’s abilities were up there with Superman’s. Maybe even more.

“Don’t.” He frowned. “I can see right through your bullshit, Jazz. There wasn’t that much of a choice and you know it.”

She bit her lips, but didn’t deny it. Instead, she pulled on her joined hands with Jason’s so they approached the table and sat down.

After settling in her seat, she breathed in, breathed out and smiled. “You are making me sound like some kind of demon or something.” Nobody bought the lightness of her tone.

Danny caught her deflection and chose to follow. He scoffed. “And you are not?” He made a gesture with his hands, placing them on the sides of his head with his pointer fingers up, imitating his sister’s headpiece.

She rolled her eyes. “I am not—”

“Jazzy, fear incarnate is in love with you. He let you ride his horse!” He smirked at Jason. “Not an euphemism.”

He caught on what the siblings were trying to do and turned towards his girlfriend. “You never told me about any horse, darling.”

“Nightmare was a strategic move. Frighty knows I can’t fly like the rest of you and it could give me an advantage during battle.”

“Nightmare? Seriously?” Jason asked.

“Big black horse with wings.” She quickly explained with a shrug. “Breathes fire.”

“Are you serious? Fright Knight doesn’t let me even touch his horse and I’m the King!” He threw his hands up in the air. “That being said, he doesn’t challenge me as much as he does with you, and thanks the Ancients for that.”

“Wait. Wait a second. Are you saying—”

Danny’s smile grew like a Cheshire Cat’s. “Ooohhhh. You didn’t know? Did you forget the one basic fact about ghost nature, Jazzy-pants? Ghost’s love language is fighting.” He said the last part imitating her voice, like she was giving a lecture of some kind.

“Oh? Tell me more?” Jason leaned towards Danny, head leaning on one hand, completely enraptured by the information his girlfriend’s brother shared so easily.

“And he wasn’t pulling any punches either. Before I learned he was formally courting her, I wasn’t sure if he wanted to fight her to death or marry her!”

“He could do both if he’s not a coward.” Jason shared the smile with Danny, ignoring Jazz’s hands pushing his shoulder away from her.

“Hey!” Jazz protested, but there was a small smile on her lips. “Don’t encourage him!”

“Wait until I tell you about The Ballad of the Red Demon.” Danny also ignored his sister, and the eyes of the rest of the Waynes, as he summoned a notebook with more green flames. He cleared his throat, opened the notebook and started reading:

“The fire in her eyes burned brighter than any sun, as the sharp edge of her blade pierced your chest to meet your untimely end.

Don’t provoke the Red Demon, for her burning fury will consume you in a blaze hotter than the Realm’s Core.

There she rides the winged Dark Horse as her cries call for the blood of her enemies, bright green eyes already searching for the next target.

Don’t provoke the Red Demon, for her siren’s call will be the last thing you hear before you draw your last breath.”

“What in the Ancients is that?” Realization came to the young woman. She slapped the table and stood up. “Ghost Writer?”

Danny nodded. “He gave me the first draft to approve before getting into editing.” He shook the notebook closer to his sister. “There’s a chapter for each of us, don’t think it’s just about you.”

He rolled his eyes and reopened the notebook, getting ready to continue reading, but Jazz jumped and reached across the table trying to snatch the notebook before he continued. He managed to float away just in time to prevent her from taking it from him, and quickly flew high enough that she couldn’t reach him, but close enough that he was almost within reach.

“Awww, you don’t want our new friends to know about your feats during the last siege? About—” he glanced at the text, quickly murmuring words under his breath, “‘Her fiery hair glows like a damned halo’ and ‘sharp blade like a gentle kiss of death’ something something ‘crushing enemies under her foot’.”

Jazz was trying to jump high enough so she could catch her brother, her face crimson red as the others chuckled at the scene.

Finally, taking pity on her, Jason reached for the book as Danny was distracted reading the next stanza and seized it away from the floating Fenton.

“Thank you.” She breathed in relief, extending her hand so he could give her the notebook.

With a tiny smile, he opened it and tried to read too, but it was written in symbols he felt he recognized but couldn’t read.

“Do you have an official translation yet or do I have to wait?”

---

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#dpxdc #hardcover ship #jazz x jason #jazz/jason #dp x dc #dc x dp #batpham #friendly neighborhood vigilante #neighbors au

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alittlebitofloveliness · 6 months

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Well since you said it…

Ponyboy Curtis head canons and, if possible, cherry head canons 😁

I'll do Cherry later this weekend, but for now here's some Ponyboy headcanons!

-Has tried to quit smoking multiple times, usually because Darry wants him to, and never succeeded. The second he gets even the tiniest bit stressed he’s got a cigarette lit and back in his mouth. At this point he's pretty much accepted he's locked in for life

-Had to get glasses and HATES them so Darry pulled some overtime and got him contacts

-Worries a lot about Darry, not just because he tries to carry too much roofing at once and regularly hurts his back, but also because he’s terrified of what could happen if Darry was to somehow slip off a roof

-His middle class school friends think he’s REALLY cool (like Pony, they’re all a bunch of nerds) and Pony loves it because the entire gang very much does not

-His school friends are also TERRIFIED of the gang, like they see Two-bit or Steve coming to talk to him and hightail it out of there. They’re even scared of Johnny which Ponyboy thinks is hilarious (he doesn’t realize that Johnny’s dark gaze and bruises are terrifying to someone who doesn’t know how he got them)

-Thinks Curly Shepard is the funniest person alive and is determined that Curly never find that out

-Cannot for the life of him figure out why Johnny and Curly don’t get along

-Tutored Two-bit in English so he could finally graduate

-The gang is split between those who are determined to be a good influence on Pony and those who aren’t. Dally and Two-bit are the bad influences, Johnny tries to be a good influence, and Steve claims to not give a fuck but is the best influence of all in that he’s never let/asked/encouraged Pony to take part in illegal activities

-Pony thinks Curly Shepard is good looking in a dangerous way. Real good looking in fact.

-Is NOT afraid of girls no matter what that Johnny Cade says (I mean it man I ain’t SCARED of them, they just don think like us, and quit you’re laughing, it ain’t like you have any luck with girls either-)

-Is TERRIFIED of Tim Shepard

-Is also terrified of Angela Shepard because even though she has the same eyes as Curly, her's are like a snakes, all cold, emotionless and deadly, whereas Curly’s are always twinkling with ether mischief or anger

-He’s actually really good at stealing things (Two-bit taught him well), he just doesn’t do it often because he feels bad about it. But if a shop employee is rude to him he’s no holds barred and could leave with like half the store under his coat

-Can get away with literally ANYTHING in his English class after he gave Mr. Simes his theme, and uses that fact to his advantage

-Regularly falls asleep in his math class but manages to talk his teacher out of calling Darry every time

-He and Darry have the same taste in literature and regularly share/discuss books. It bores Soda to the point where he jokingly tells them to go back to arguing all the time because it was at least more entertaining to listen to

-Steps on peoples heels when he walks behind them

-HATES country music so fucking much and if Johnny plays that goddamn country record ONE more time-

-Is determined to make sure neither of his older brothers find our just how much time he spends with Curly Shepard

-Cut the blond out of his hair as soon as he possibly could, even though it made his hair shorter than he liked because he hated the light colour more than he hated the short length

-Has the worst poker face known to man but is actually decent at poker (because he cheats, but unlike Sodapop he’s good at cheating so he rarely gets caught)

#the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #curly shepard #angela shepard #tim shepard #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #johnny cade #dallas winston #headcanon #two bit mathews #steve randle #the outsiders headcanons

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imtrashraccoon · 8 months

Text

Been looking forward to this all month! I rediscovered that it is very hard to write spicy stuff while listening to a classic Markiplier video...everything hurts from laughing now. Side note, did anyone else watch the most recent Lackadaisy short "Stratagem"? It's pretty much unrelated to this chapter but I thought it was funny!

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Free Space - Glow

Word Count: 2,886

Feat. Dust & Nightmare!

The castle was absolutely massive and while you'd explored quite a bit of it, you had the feeling you'd only scratched the surface. Pretty much every room was massive and filled with expensive furniture. You basically felt like you were a mouse that broke into a mansion and was adopted by its occupants.

Your bedroom had a queen size bed, a fireplace, a small but comfortable couch, at least a dozen different pillows and blankets, a walk in closet, and even an on-suite bathroom. The whole room felt larger than your entire apartment had been and it was all yours.

You hadn't left your room, let alone your bed for several days, except when you had to look after your human needs. At first, Nightmare hadn't let anyone bother you, but after the first day and once you'd recovered from the shock, he eventually allowed the others to come visit you.

You were pretty sure there had been an argument over who would get to see you first but ultimately, Axe was your first visitor. You didn't know how that had come about and you were too exhausted to ask. He practically fussed over you like a mother hen, except it was even worse than when you were sick. You weren't complaining yet though, as you'd really missed him. He took it upon himself to make sure you were never hungry and seemed to always have something he wanted you to try.

Killer was next, which you weren't surprised about in the slightest. He seemed to be up to his usual antics, although slightly toned down because you were bed bound. He tried out a bunch of new jokes, all of which ranged from unfunny to cringe inducing, but you'd be lying if you said you hated it. He also was a lot more touchy than usual, although it was in an affectionate rather than sleazy way.

You saw very little of Dust though, which was a bit strange, but not unusual for him. He always had acted kind of distant with you but had warmed up over your time knowing each other. Unfortunately, now he seemed like he had regressed significantly and was avoiding you. Then, you woke up in the middle of the night one time with him sitting on the floor against your bed, holding your hand and tracing small circles over your knuckles. He seemed rather embarrassed when he realized he'd woken you up but you couldn't be upset with him. At least he'd come by a few times when you were actually awake since.

Today you'd decided to try to do some reading to distract yourself. It seemed like you were adjusting well to this new environment but you weren't sleeping well on your own. You kept getting flashbacks of the day your world broke down and nearly had to beg Nightmare to help. Whatever he'd done had been effective since you were sleeping without any bad dreams, although you weren't getting any dreams either, or at least you couldn't remember if you were.

Nightmare had a massive library and easily hundreds of books that he had collected from various worlds over...however long he'd been alive. You'd never asked how old any of the boys were actually, let alone him. There was also plenty of cozy seating in the library and even a couple of nooks you could hide in if you didn't want to be bothered.

You had sat down in the main seating area today with the first of high fantasy series that Nightmare had personally recommended. It was a change of pace from your usual literature but change was good. It helped keep your mind off of...everything.

The issue was that you weren't able to concentrate on any of the words and had to restart a chapter multiple times with no luck. At some point you found yourself staring into the soft glowing flame of a candle that you certainly hadn't lit when you sat down here.

There wasn't anything you could have done to save your world and you knew that it wasn't the boys' fault that the world code had become unstable. The way Nightmare explained it, once Monsterkind was freed from the Underground, the story had run its course. Essentially, it was only a matter of time before everything broke down like that.

You still felt awful about it though. You wished with all your soul that you could've saved others or even prevented the destruction entirely. You understood quite clearly now what people who survived horrible accidents where lots of other people died felt like.

Hearing someone scuff their shoes across the carpet, you looked over sharply to basically come face to face with Dust. He had a concerned look on his skull, although it quickly morphed into one of relief when you made eye contact with him.

"are you okay?" he asked.

You grimaced and looked away. "I've...been better..." you murmured.

He sat down next to you and wrapped an arm over your shoulders in a slightly tentative side hug. "i'm not good at the whole comfort thing..." he muttered in your ear. "so just tell me if i'm being a nuisance, okay?"

You nodded but remained silent. He was selling himself sort in your personal opinion as just being there for someone was still a valid form of comfort. So what if he didn't make you food or make jokes to cheer you up?

After several quiet minutes, he gave your shoulder a light squeeze. "would a distraction help? we could play some chess if you want?"

"Sure, why not? So long as you give me a sporting chance anyways."

He chuckled and his mismatched eyelights seemed to flicker with untold thoughts of mischief. "i can't promise that but i'll try, bean. i'll be back with the game in a sec." He stood up and teleported away before you could retort.

You rolled your eyes at no one in particular and put your abandoned book away. You'd have to try reading it another time it seemed.

Dust reappeared a few seconds later with a small box and an intricate game board tucked under one arm. He started to set up the game on the coffee table and you quickly realized that this was the most beautiful Chess set you'd ever seen. The pieces seemed to be made of polished ivory and all had gold detailing. You weren't sure if the board itself was also ivory or something else like marble, but it was just as beautiful as the pieces were.

"It's gorgeous..." you whispered.

He nodded, "i got it recently since i enjoyed playing the game with you so much. i haven't had anyone to play with though..."

You couldn't help but frown as he sat down next to you again. "The others don't like Chess?"

"nah, axe has no interest as there's too much to focus on and killer can't sit still for more than two seconds to even try." He scratched the side of his skull before adding, "i haven't actually asked nightmare, but i don't know if he'd even be interested when he's so busy all the time."

You hummed thoughtfully as the game began. Dust had assigned the white pieces to you for seemingly no particular reason, not that you minded as it just meant you got to go first.

The game went on a lot longer than you thought it would. Compared to the last time you'd played, he didn't seem to be trying to win, or at least not actively trying. He wasn't resorting to making obviously bad moves though, so you didn't feel like he was babying you at least. Still, you weren't about to give him a pass just because he was being nice. No, you were playing to win.

At some point during that game, you saw Dust glance over at something out of the corner of your eye. When you looked up though, you realized that Nightmare had entered the library at some point and was now watching the both of you play. Maybe he was interested in Chess afterall? With the way his cyan eyelight was studying how the pieces moved across the board, you felt inclined to believe that he was.

If Dust was bothered by having an audience, he didn't act like it and just continued to play as if nothing was different. You were less successful at doing so as you couldn't help but wonder if Nightmare would think less of you if you made a silly mistake. He didn't make any teasing comments, or any comments really, until Dust inevitably won the game.

"Would either of you be willing to let me play a round?" Nightmare asked, glancing between you and Dust.

You shrugged and glanced over at Dust, only to catch the briefest glance of his surprised expression before he carefully masked it again.

He nodded and started to set up the pieces again. "sure, if you really want to." He glanced at you with a silent question on his metaphorical lips that you answered with a small nod.

You didn't mind tapping out for a game if it meant you'd get to see two of your friends mentally duke it out. So, you scooted a bit closer to Dust in order to make room for Nightmare on the couch, which left you sitting between both skeletons.

Dust finished setting up the pieces, interestingly with the white ones facing him this time, and glanced at Nightmare. "we were just playing for fun earlier, so what are the stakes?" His tone was quiet but there was an underlying competitive edge to it now too.

Nightmare got an intrigued expression on his face and he tapped his clavicle thoughtfully. His gaze turned to you and he gave you a look that could only be described as devious. "I can sense that you're feeling down, my dear. So," he looked over at Dust as his grin widened, "why don't we play for who gets to cuddle with the human?"

"What...?" You could feel your cheeks grow rather warm at the idea, although a small part of you almost leapt for joy. "You can't be serious?"

Dust didn't even hesitate and his eyelights seemed to burn brighter with determination. "deal," he confirmed and moved his first piece.

Nightmare chuckled quietly and gave you a suggestive look, which only served to fluster you further. You really had no preference on who won, although Nightmare was quite good at cuddling, while Dust generally seemed a bit adverse to most physical contact. You just hoped that whoever lost wouldn't be too upset by it.

It quickly became apparent that Dust was actually trying to win and he wasn't pulling the intellectual punches. You could tell that Nightmare knew how to play but that he seemed a bit rusty. He wasn't a bad player by any means, he probably could beat you anyways, but he seemed to be forgetting to utilize quite a few of his pieces when it mattered most.

As such, you weren't surprised when Dust managed to win. You saw it coming several turns in advance once he'd captured most of Nightmare's useful pieces, especially because his smile grew wider the longer it went on.

When he'd finally managed to corner Nightmare's king, he smirked at you and slid an arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him. You let him and couldn't help but giggle when he did so. You admittedly teased Nightmare a little bit by sticking out your tongue, although he didn't seem too put off.

"How about a rematch?" he asked Dust.

"sure."

The two skeletons played again with Dust winning once again. He chuckled and his smile became more cocky now.

You were suitably impressed with his skill and gave him a congratulatory pat on the arm. He had other ideas though and gently tilted your chin so you'd look at him again. He then pressed a chaste kiss against your lips before releasing you.

While you hadn't expected Dust to go that far, you would be lying if you said you didn't like it. When you glanced at Nightmare though, your heart did a little somersault.

He wore a neutral expression on his skull and if it weren't for the way his left eye socket was narrowed slightly, you wouldn't have known he was frustrated. Whether it was from losing twice in a row, the way Dust was now obviously taunting him, or both, you couldn't tell. Although, you could tell that despite his outwardly cool demeanor, there was a layer of danger lurking underneath the surface.

"Let's go again," he said quietly.

Dust shrugged and set up the board again. "sure, if you're willing to lose again," he teased.

The tension was palpable between them as the game began. You noticed Nightmare seemed to be ultra focused this time and moved his pieces a bit slower so he could be sure he wasn't making a foolish decision.

You didn't want him to actually get upset if he lost again. It was obvious that Dust wasn't going easy on him though, so what could you do?

Between turns, you got a bit of a cheeky idea. You started with snuggling a bit closer to Dust and lightly running your fingers over his ribcage through his shirt. At first, he didn't seem to really notice what you were doing but when he did, he gently squeezed your waist and nuzzled against your forehead.

You kept this up until both of them were down to only a half dozen pieces each. You then pulled away slightly which got Dust's attention.

"You're practically glowing," you whispered, although it was loud enough that even Nightmare could hear.

Dust blinked and got a confused look on his skull. He stared at you, trying to figure out what you really meant, but you noticed he seemed to be getting a little flustered if the soft violet glow that began to colour his cheekbones was anything to go by.

You were doing your damn best to keep a straight face and maintain your oblivious air. It was getting really hard but you hadn't sucked up to a crappy boss for years to slack off now.

You lightly traced his clavicle with a finger and tilted your head curiously. Glancing up at his face again, you murmured, "I haven't seen you this happy before... It looks good on you."

He still seemed confused but your sincerity must've been very effective and he actually smiled more genuinely at you. He moved some of your hair behind your ear and started to lean closer when Nightmare cleared his non-existent throat.

"It's your turn..." he hissed.

Dust huffed and shot him an annoyed look. Nightmare just crossed his arms and stared passively back, although you could see the tips of his tentacles twitching with irritation.

Dust quickly scanned the board and used his magic to shift his last pawn ahead a square. "there, happy?" he grumbled.

Nightmare studied the board for a moment before nodding. You noticed the edges of his smile seemed to twitch and his restless tentacles suddenly went stock still.

"Quite," he hummed and slid his only remaining bishop across the board. "I believe that is checkmate."

Dust stiffened and Nightmare's grin only grew more smug the longer he scanned the board. Finally, he sighed and ran a hand down his face.

"yeah, you win..." he muttered.

You let out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding when neither of them got angry. With a soft chuckle, you rubbed reassuring circles into Dust's shoulder blades with your fingers.

"Hey, it's okay, you had a good run..."

He turned to you and narrowed his eye sockets. "you purposely distracted me," he grumbled.

You shrugged, "Maybe, but I only told you the truth." While you were trying your best to remain the perfect picture of innocent, you knew Dust that could see through you.

Nightmare hummed and beckoned for you to come closer with one of his claws. "I believe you belong over here now, my dear," he almost purred.

You smiled and shifted over to sit with him. To your surprise, he wrapped his tentacles around your entire body and pulled you into his lap. His claws pressed into your skin in a possessive way and he nuzzled his face into your hair as well.

Your face felt like it was on fire and you ducked to try and hide your embarrassment. Nightmare seemed to take great pleasure in the effect he was having on you, if the little amused chuckle he let out was anything to go by.

Dust's face was strained with annoyance but when you caught his eye, he smirked. "that's what you get for being a tease," he remarked. He did seem a little disappointed that Nightmare was giving you so much attention but at least he wasn't mad.

He looked over at Nightmare and his mismatched eyelights took on a competitive glint once again. "want to go another round?" he asked.

Nightmare pretended to think for a moment before nodding. "Of course." He hugged you a bit tighter and added, "I think I like playing this game..."

You were going to be stuck here for a while...

#badsansuary #raccoons drabbles #undertale #dusttale #dreamtale #dust sans #dust #nightmare sans #nightmare #dust sans x reader #nightmare x reader #reader #female reader #have some empathy dear #oneshot

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maralarsen · 6 months

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He's not that bad ✨

~Mattheo Riddle x reader~

Warning: None

Fluff

• Summary: The reader decided to read a book in the Common room, but she did not expect that she would be accompanied by an unexpected guest

• Mattheo and the reader are in the fifth grade, so they are 15 years old and the reader is in Slytherin.

(This is my first story so sorry for the mistakes I made + English is not my first language)

I went into the Common Room to read in peace. I go here after curfew when I can't visit the library. I love to read when there is peace and quiet. Well, as soon as I went downstairs to the common room, I found out that I will have company today.

Mattheo Riddle was sitting there. I didn't really like him. I would hate him if I could, but I can't hate him completely. I have a feeling he noticed me because I stopped hearing the pencil running across his sketchbook. Yes, Mattheo draws. It surprises me too. Honestly, what can that boy even draw there...."Are you just going to stand there or are you going to sit down?" his voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

"I was on my way to sit down," he grinned. Fool. I don't know what he can find funny about this. I sat on the other seat at the other end to be further away from him. "Are you afraid of me?". "No! Why?!" I asked confused. "It's just that you sat not a kilometer away from me. I have a feeling that if you wanted to, you would turn around and leave, but your pride won't allow you to," he grinned again.

His grin is already getting on my nerves. "Oh, maybe it bothers you that I'm not with you under one with a blanket," I said mockingly. "Honestly, I don't mind, but judging by the chills on your legs, you might need a blanket." I looked down at my legs. I really had chills down my legs, because I only had shorts on because I thought dear Riddle wouldn't be here and the big blanket with which he is now covered will be free. "Well?..." he smiled at my situation and asked me "if you want, you can sit on the other end of the sofa." The blanket is long enough".

I was surprised by his dear... dear... whatever it was, it was definitely nice. "Thank you, but no," "don't be silly, sit down and you'll catch a cold," so he was definitely right about this, unfortunately. "Okay," I sat down on the other end of the sofa he was sitting on and opened my book. I read in my muggle book, and Mattheo started drawing again, at least I think so from the sound of pencil on paper. "Can I ask you a question?" I looked up at him, surprised but a little irritated, "of course." "You know. I was thinking about us...how do I think so differently, no...," I started laughing "Stop it!" "Sorry. I just...ugh...it was very funny to see you embarrassed," "Hahaha very funny," I smirked "So what did you want," "I was just thinking that why do we get along so badly why do we poke each other ," "does that bother you?" I asked "no way...but it's annoying to be honest," "um, I don't know. All I know is that it started with your taunt about my hair back in October," "honestly it looked seriously like a nest," he said with a laugh in his voice, "I know and I'm sorry for how I snapped at you back then....actually you're totally fine. How about we start over?" I offered.

He really wasn't bad, you could talk to him normally when he didn't have his bunch of friends around, otherwise he acted like a cocky brute. "I'd like that," he said. I don't even know why, but it surprised me. I smiled "Okay. So I'm (y/n) (l/n)" and I shot my hand towards him "I'm Mattheo Riddle my pleasure" he shook my hand "me too...ugh,".

I was scared when the clock struck eleven in the evening. "Well, I should go now," I got up to leave "I should go to sleep too..." he also got up at the same time as me, so when we stood up, we were only a few centimeters apart.

It wasn't even that close, but for my 15-year-old self, it was enough to make me blush and so did he. "Um, I should be going now...good night Mattheo," and I left for the dorms, "Good night (y/n/n)," I was taken aback at that nickname, since not many people call me that. I came out of the trance immediately. I finally reached the stairs that lead to the students' rooms, I don't know why, but the journey felt like 5 minutes, not 5 seconds, I quickly went up the stairs and I was gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you liked the story, please leave me some feedback so I know if I should continue to write down stories that come to mind during the day 😅.

#slytherin boys #harry potter x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #fluff #harry potter fandom #fanfic #english is not my first language #slytherin #Hogwarts #my first post

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justatypicalwizard · 1 year

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Late night frustration | Bakugo Katsuki

✦ Bnha characters have their quirks but they are all secret heroes living a doubble-life. Katsuki has a had crush on you but instead of asking you out on a date he's stuck listening to you fangirling over Red Riot. Out of frustration he decided to do something very stupid.

✦ Word count: 2,5k

✦ Warnings: none

Secret hero Dynamite on rampage once again [see video]

Stupid fucking media. They just don’t give a time of the day to check how it all happened. All they see are Mina’s boobs and Eiji’s smile. Bakugo grunted while scrolling through a bunch of shorts featuring yesterday's secret hero action. They all showed the two mentioned earlier in a glorifying light or his, not so subtle, bursting out of the convenience store, glass shattering behind him as he grabs the thief by the collar.

Apart from being a college student Bakugo lives a double-life as a secret hero. How did he get his powers? No one knows, including himself. The same with Mina, Kirishima and Denki. There were a bunch of other people who rolled out on the streets after sunset with masked faces but he didn’t know them all, he didn’t care. It's not like he ever even agreed to the idea, his friends convinced him that they should all use their powers to save the world. Honestly he just saw this as an opportunity to manifest his quirk, otherwise too destructive to play with. Over time he got fed up with what people talked about him, he’s not gonna lie, at some point such an amount of hate would touch anyone. Yet, he didn’t stop, didn’t hide behind a fake personality denying he even has any powers. He got out every second night and did what he’s done for years now.

A bag dropping near his face tore him out of his thoughts bubble. Looking up he spotted your smile as you sat down opposite of him, the well used wooden chair creaked under your ass. There was one more reason why he kept trying all the time. After every night action he waited with gritted teeth for your excited text sending him an awesome video of Dynamite that you just found and fell in love with. He wanted you to fangirl over Dynamite so he could drop by in the middle of the night, take his mask off and tell you that it’s him, he’s the secret hero that you’re in love with. But it never came. You never said a positive word about his alter ego, either being neutral or agreeing with some of the opinions on his brutality and carelessness.

Yet, how could you know better? You were not there last night with the shop owner, an old man too shocked to mumble anything into the microphone after onlookers and reporters flooded the crime scene. You didn’t hear him when he grabbed Bakugo by the sleeve just as he was about to run and thanked him. You didn’t know that the old man was grateful, claiming that the window was nothing, repairing it will cost less than what the thief was about to steal. Of course none of them heard that because Katsuki always gets those compliments off-scene. Noone ever listens to the actual victims, they have a forged history that will match their shitty profiles and online channels.

“Did you see yesterday’s action?” Quite close up actually, princess.

“Mhm.” He mumbled, opening a random book to quickly end the topic.

“There’s a lot of shots of Dynamite breaking that window. I mean, I get that he has a very destructive power but was it really necessary to catch the thief bursting through the glass? Maybe he could run up to him on the streets?” And what would it change? Then he’d blast a car standing on the roadside or a street lamp and they aren’t that cheap either! “Well, at least he got the criminal.” Oh finally, some scarce words of compliment. “But look at that, look, look.”

He nearly grabbed your hand as you started to wave it in front of his face. It was a short featuring Red Riot flexing as he ran to help Bakugo tackle down the thief. It was unnecessary as Bakugo’s explosive hand was already on the criminal's neck which paralysed the guy with fear. Yet, Eiji always wanted to help. He sincerely didn’t do it for attention, he just always wanted to make sure he did the best he could. How can he stand back and watch? It was him who handed the tief to the police. Bakugo already learned that they were not keen on being close to Dynamite so it was always Eiji talking to them. That’s how he stole the whole spotlight of the previous night, he jumped on the already disarmed thief, picked him up and handed him to the police. Simple as that. And yet it had you squeaking and scrolling through more phone-made shots from different angles, all painfully exposing Eiji’s flexing muscles in the scarce suit he wore.

“Red Riot is so hot. I can’t believe he lives somewhere there as a normal person.” Oh he actually lived very close by. Your Red Riot was just a few tables away, chewing on a pencil, sweating over a simple maths equation.

Bakugo was seriously in awe that people didn’t see that bulked form in Kirishima. It was obviously good that his cover never blew but apart from covering his face and hair during actions Kiri was nearly all on display. In the daytime he also didn’t bother covering too much, always wearing a hugging shirt that would show off his tremendous muscles. Guess the mass doesn’t really look for the heroes, they just admire them and later forget that they actually exist as said normal people.

“I would totally fuck Red Riot stupid.”

This was enough. Having someone you love, I mean have a crush on, whatever, talking about fucking a different guy in you very face was too much for Bakugo.

“You know what, I got a text from mom, I need to go.” The blonde stood up, pushing the chair from under his knees with such a force it nearly fell down. He looked at your surprised face as you mumbled a ‘okay’ and that you’d ‘do the assignment they were both due’.

As much as Bakugo wanted to spend time with you, he also couldn’t listen to what you said, a painful feeling aching in his chest.

Later that evening Bakugo found himself sitting on a roof, looking at the city below him. It wasn’t supposed to be a patrol night but he couldn’t sit at home, he had to do something, anything to take his mind off of the earlier talk. Eijiro didn’t even do anything bad but the blonde was furious with him. If he saw that dumb face he’d punch him, which of course he didn’t want to do so he distanced himself for the time being.

A cool breeze grazed his form, sneaking under his masked face. He certainly didn’t like the cold, it made him slower and weaker but autumn was taking over. He saw it in your coat, you picked a new one, a warmer one. You wrapped it around yourself tightly, hiding your chin into the large collar. Oh, you were there, again.

Bakugo leaned over the edge of the roof to see you better. It was past sunset, the yellow light of the street lamps giving your silhouette a golden hue. You were walking down a narrow lane in the middle of the park. You must be heading from some shop as your hands were wrapped around big paper bags.

If not his earlier outburst maybe he could have been next to you. Maybe he’d lie that he doesn’t have anything to do and he can go to the shop with you. You’d spend the evening fooling around in some shopping mall, maybe take out something to eat and he could pretend, just for a second, that you were his girlfriend. Later he’d walk you home and give you a goodbye hug because that’s what friends do. And he would keep you close just a split second longer, so that you don’t notice.

Nothing would come true if he keeps on ditching you for the sake of his own anger. So what if you’re fangirling over Red Riot? You’re not stupid enough to fall in love with the unreachable secret hero. Yet, Bakugo couldn’t shake off the creeping feeling that you could meet Eiji at some point, at a party with your mutual friends and talk to him. You could talk to him a lot, laughing at his shitty jokes, unconsciously brushing his biceps with your hand because of course you’d like him. The redhead is a funny, charming himbo that girls love. If Bakugo would sit down on the couch and watch your interaction for afar then he’s sure that Eiji would put down his hand on the counter behind you, narrowing the space between your bodies. He’d flirt with you jokingly just as he does best up to the point when you both sneak out of the party. Then he’d give you a night you’ll never forget because Bakugo knows damn well what girls say after spending an evening with Kirishima. Maybe Eiji would break it to you that he’s Red Riot and after that he’d never get rid of you. It’s a dream come true. For you. A nightmare for Katsuki.

He actually had to cough because the clench in his chest and the turn in his stomach became unbearable. He felt hurt, as if everything that he just imagined actually happened. As if you were already Eiji's girlfriend. He just wanted you so badly right now that he actually leapt down from the roof down onto the park lane, catching your attention with the small explosions.

Katsuki knew that who you saw approaching you right now was Dynamite. He saw the shock in your eyes as they focused on him but not fear. Good, because he was about to do something very stupid.

Bakugo closed the space between you with a few long strides. He grabbed the puffy collar of your coat and with his other hand slid up his mask, just enough to plant his lips onto yours. Katsuki was not innocent, not even a bit. If he was going to kiss you as Dynamite, so that you never know what actually happened, he was going to do it good.

Your lips were already parted, they never actually closed after seeing the secret hero cross your path. Bakugo used it to his advantage, slipping his tongue inside to taste you, grazing his teeth over your lower lip. He swore you moaned quietly but maybe he just imagined it getting way too horny. You were soft, no matter where he grabbed you. Unfortunately it was the coat, it secured you from his touch and he silently cursed it was late autumn and not summer.

Finally he let go of you and you stumbled a bit backwards. Before you could ask any questions he ran away, leaving you gaping behind him.

Bakugo could already imagine the sexual assault headlines after you tell everyone Dynamite kissed you out of nowhere. Or maybe you would first talk to him about it. Either way his hero name was already stained enough so that one more spot won’t change anything. But he did it, he kissed you, he felt it. Now he can play it over and over in his mind, fixating on your taste. Hope he never forgets. But he also felt guilty. He basically stole it away from you and that’s not how he wanted to have the first kiss with you.

Katsuki wandered the streets for some time before the emotions overflooded him and he found himself heading towards Mina’s crumpled up college flat. He just had to yell at someone, to someone. He’d throw it all on Eiji once more, complaining how his crush fangirls over Red Riot, the same as usual. Mina was well aware of the whole drama.

As quiet as possible he jumped up and up until he reached the window of her unused room. It was open, as always, and he flew through it, landing on the floor, tearing his mask off.

“Racoon fucking eyes…” He was just about to start when he dropped his mask to the ground.

Instead of Mina he saw someone else, someone he really didn’t want to see now. It was you, standing in the middle of the room, picking something out of the same paper bag you carried earlier. Now that he saw it up close it had a print of a home supplies shop. You looked at him, eyes wide as ever, mouth gaping once again.

You were not stupid so of course he couldn’t make you think it was all a dream but he honestly didn’t have any better idea right now.

“Bakugo?” You asked, standing up and walking to him, your scrutinising eyes scanning his costume. “What the fuck? You’re Dynamite?”

Of course you were quick to connect the dots, who wouldn’t when he saw his best friend fly up the window with the, oh so well known, explosions.

“You’re, but, how? Why?” You looked like you didn’t know what to ask about.

“Okay, shut it, I’ll explain the whole damn hero thing…” The blonde also started to throw words at you with the speed of a machine gun.

“What? Hero? Why did you kiss me an hour ago?”

That’s not what he expected. You were more concerned with the kiss than with him being Dynamite? He didn’t know whether he liked it. It would be way easier to explain his secret hero life than what he did that said hour ago.

“I…” No words came out of his throat as he looked at you, at your face, tense and focused.

“Why did you kiss me Katsuki?”

“Because I’m in love with you okay, fuck it.”

“What?”

“I’m. In. Love. With. You.” He spat out every word. “And after hearing, once again, how you’d fuck Red fucking Riot today I had enough. It’s always Red Riot this and Red Riot that, but no one cares about the fact that it was me who caught the thief. Why don’t you just go and actually fuck Red Riot. Now that you know I’m Dynamite might as well just show you the way to his fucking apartment…”

Bakugo didn’t have the chance to end his rumble because he felt the familiar taste once again. You were pressing him up the windowsill, your small form no match for him. Your lips were planted against his. You broke the kiss before he had the time to react.

“Shut up about Red Riot. I was just joking. Why didn’t you tell me you liked me?”

“What?” It was his turn to ask stupid questions.

“I, uh damn, I also like you, crush you very much. I just didn’t think you liked me back, giving your shitty demeanour all the time.”

It would take him some time to explain the whole situation to you. It would also take some time for you to get used to him being a secret hero, though after you agreed to be his girlfriend you noticed he threw himself in crossfire less during his night actions. Who knows, maybe he’ll even gain a bit in the eye of the public soon. Now he doesn't really care for it any more as the only person he ever wanted to impress is already snuggled up beside him in bed, late in the night.

#bnha bakugo #bnha bakugou #bnha #bnha fanfiction #katsuki bakugo #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugo #bakugou x reader #katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #mha

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holmesxwatson · 9 months

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The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes dir: Billy Wilder, 1970

I only watched The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes for the first time a few days ago but it lights my brain up in that special way that I know I’ll revisit it a lot. Don’t get me wrong, it’s far from perfect, for one thing Colin Blakely’s Watson is a little too shouty for me, but it’s very worthwhile to check out despite its shortcomings, which I think mostly come from the fact that so much was cut from the intended script.

I absolutely love Robert Stephens as Holmes. His face is so good, he has a way of looking at Watson when he doesn’t know he’s being observed that is very soft. I thought I was hallucinating the beginning of this movie with Holmes telling the ballet dancer he’s gay and in a relationship with Watson. I thought it was going to be played for a joke, and it was a bit, but it didn’t just end there. Holmes and Watson have a conversation about the repercussions in a lengthy scene that turns very serious by the end. I can’t believe this was 1970 and no one has since tried to build on this specific dynamic in a more meaningful way. Someone needs to remake this into a mini-series exactly how Billy Wilder intended it to be, here’s hoping public domain can make it so.

[above: script page from the cut story The Curious Case of the Upside Down Room, where Watson creates a fake case to make Holmes feel better]

Also, the backstory of the making of this film is so out of control: Robert Stephens’s nervous breakdown and suicide attempt during the production, the amount of years Billy Wilder was trying to write it and get it made, the interference of ACD’s son, the Loch Ness monster prop that the crew lost in actual Loch Ness, the immense scope of the episodic story they were going for, the way it got cut down from its original 3 hour 45 minute runtime and how that cut footage was lost forever! (this is crazy! everyone go check your attics and storage lockers right now).

In one of the interviews I found, Robert Stephens says “if something is boring — if it’s three minutes long it’s too long, but if it’s interesting it’s never long enough…you don’t want it to end.” Big same Toby Stephens’ dad, big SAME. I didn’t want it to end. I read the uncut script and I am just floored at what we missed out on. Thankfully some footage and audio remain of some of the cut scenes (but still! check your basements too).

Just fully let it settle into your brain that they filmed all of these stories in the script, and then cut most of it away. Like that is mind-blowing to me, it existed at one point as it was fully intended to be. If this was made now during home entertainment times, they would have no problem releasing an almost four-hour movie, but at the very least there would be a big director’s cut dvd release and we would be enjoying all the small Holmes x Watson moments we deserve.

Anyway, in pretty short order I found a bunch of interesting links to stuff, details below. I also consulted my very well-thumbed Conversations with Wilder book by Cameron Crowe, but there wasn’t that much more information in there. I have Robert Stephens’ memoir Knight Errant and the TPLOSH blu-ray on order so I’ll add to this post if I find any more good resources. Let me know if I’m missing anything, and enjoy!

Full movie on YouTube (x) <-update: this link went private, but it's also streaming for free on Tubi and Freevee, and available to rent on YouTube, Google Play, and Apple TV

Original roadshow draft of script on Internet Archive (x)

Missing footage: Prologue [sound only plus stills] (x), The Curious Case of the Upside Down Room [sound only plus stills] (x), The Dreadful Business of the Naked Honeymooners [footage and soundtrack only, no sound dialogue] (x), alternate ending [sound only] (x)

Making of documentary that includes behind-the-scenes snippets of some of the cut scenes [this doc is in German, but you can turn on the auto-translate to English in the YouTube settings] (x)

Interview with Ernst Walter, film editor of TPLOSH (x)

Interview with Christopher Lee “Mr. Holmes, Mr. Wilder” 2003 (x)

My YouTube playlist with all of the above links in one place plus an excellent fan vid by Just Bee that I added to the list because it’s just so good (x)

Missing Movies: A Case for Sherlock Holmes from 1994 BBC Radio 2 on Soundcloud [includes interview with Robert Stephens and folks involved in the production] (x)

Articles about the lost Loch Ness monster prop (x) (x)

The soundtrack by Miklós Rózsa (x)

#sherlock holmes #the private life of sherlock holmes #robert stephens #billy wilder #tplosh #sh movies

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lucrezianoin · 8 months

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Amount of romance content per character

And here is a list of romances from the one with most content (from memory) to least amount of content. I played them all!

Astarion; Karlach; Gale; Lae'zel; Wyll; Shadowheart; Halsin; Minthara.

ASTARION

He definitely wins for amount of romance content as just in act 1 he has 2 flirting scenes (one at the party and one as a second night one) and a volunteered proposal scene (which makes sense giving his arc). He will then have his act 1 romance scene (sex in the woods). All the other scenes can happen to non-romancing players too so I won't count them,

Then in act 2 he has one romance scene that can happen in two slightly different ways. In act 3 he has two romance scenes that are wildly different (setting and the actual scenes/dialogues) based on ascension vs spawn. Plus he has a bunch of ascension dialogue too. He also has the Halsin specific dialogue.

And a personalized kiss. The epilogue also has some more ascension dialogue, or a hug if he is a spawn.

KARLACH

I think she is second as she has a relatively big scene per act. In act 1 she has minimal flirting and then one party romance scene.

Then in act 2 (or 3 based on the engine) she has some more dialogue. And her romance scene in act 2, while in the same setting, takes two very different turns (one explicit and one not explicit, so just cuddling). The same happens to her dating scene in act 3, which is I think probably one of the longest among the romances.

She also has a personalized kiss and a small scene where she introduces you to her friend in the city. (I miss the epilogue for her)

GALE

Gale is third because in act 1 he only has the weave scene as his romance scene, which happens for non romancing players too so it is more of a pre-romance scene. He also has some flirting at the party.

In act 2 he has some volunteered flirting about SEXY BOOKS he read, and a romance scene that takes two different settings and is wildly different based on your choices.

He has personalized kissing too instead of the stamp-lip-kiss. In the epilogue there is also a kiss/hug based on your choices, and he has some pretty specific romance dialogue.

LAE'ZEL

Lae'zel in act 1 has two "flirting" scenes (like Astarion), one at the party and one as a random proposal before the party, if you rises her approval. She then has a romance scene that is mainly the same but can take two slightly different paths.

In act 2 she also has a romance scene which takes two slightly different path, but in general her romance has little diverging and it is very linear. She also has some extra dialogue about kissing and a personalized kiss. Then in act 3 she will have the roof romance scene, which is quite short and has no diverging.

Haven't played her epilogue yet.

WYLL

In act 1 Wyll only has a flirting party scene, mainly dialogue and with a kiss if you can convince him. This is mainly why he is under Lae'zel, because act 1 romance content is truly minimal.

In act 2 he has the dancing scene and a small dialogue after, where he will talk about the dance itself. He also has a very unique personalized kiss from this point onwards.

In act 3 his romance scene is the proposal one, which has one setting but some little variance (based on accepting or not to sleep with him). He is also (as far as I know) the only character who has a break up scene as one of the variant of his main scene (where he does a slow dance with you and in case asks you to dance remembering him).

Sadly his epilogue has no kiss or hug, only dialogue that is pretty generic. But there are some variances if he is duke/you got married/he went to Avernus. He is also the only character who keeps the relationship if he goes to Avernus (and has a new kiss).

SHADOWHEART

Very surprised to say that among the origin companions I think she has the least amount of romance content.

Act 1 has probably quite a bit, with her flirting, then the drinking scene (that can happen before or during the party) and some dialogue about the relationship. She is the only character who seems to commit immediately.

In act 2 she has no romance scene and there is only a little romance talk at the very very end, where the kiss happens. Her kiss is also generic I think? As it used to be, not changed (yet?).

In act 3 she will have two very different scenes based on her path, but each of these scenes has little variety. Not played the epilogue yet.

HALSIN

We all know Halsin has less romance compared to the origin, but he still has quite a bit. In act 1 there is a very brief blink-and-you'll-miss it flirting at the party. Act 2 has no scene if not a couple of sentences in his dialogue

In act 3 he will have his proposal scene, then a pretty long romance scene, post romance dialogue and a personalized kiss. He also has a different kiss in the final part of the game. Not to mention the Drow courtesans scene.

MINTHARA

And sadly, Minthara is last. She has a pretty long scene in act 1 but only if you play evil, and you can still romance her if you miss it. Unfortunately that seem to be the only scene (I am not yet at the epilogue in the game I am romancing her... maybe I missed something?).

She also has some flirting between act 2 and act 3, and a non personalized kiss. But I could not find anything else.

#minthara #halsin #wyll #astarion #lae'zel #gale #shadowheart #karlach #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #meta #not really

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literary-illuminati · 8 months

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2024 Book Review #8 – The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham James

This has been on my tbr for long enough that I entirely forget what originally put it there – the only thing I actually knew going in was that the author was ‘the My Heart is a Chainsaw guy’ (I have not read My Heart is a Chainsaw yet either). Given the genre, that was honestly probably ideal. As was the fact that a blizzard hit a couple days after I started it and I’ve been reading it looking out on a frozen snowscape – it’s very much a winter sort of story.

The story’s told in five parts of wildly varying lengths, each with it’s own endearingly cheesy b-horror movie title and each following a different protagonist. The first four each follow one of a friend group who, as a bunch of fuckup teenagers, trespassed on hunting grounds that were really supposed to be reserved for elders and shot a bunch of elk they had no right to – including a pregnant young cow who was for one reason or another special. Ten years later, the Elk-Headed Woman drags herself back into the world, and begins getting her vengeance for the death of her and her child on each of them (and everyone they care about) in turn.

I have a longstanding opinion that a full-length novel is just too long to sustain a real horror story – by 300 pages things have fairly reliably collapse into urban fantasy or action or farce. The breakup into different parts solves this very well – they’re all very much connected and interwoven, but each feels like its own distinct narrative unit with its own tension and rising action.

And this is very much a horror story in the classic, just barely short of shlocky sense. A trespass against vague but understood sacred laws that leads to horrific and bloody retribution against everyone involved is as close to archtypal horror as you can possibly get, after all. The last section is even focused on a Final Girl! Specifically, it’s a subgenre that I can’t really name but feels very familiar to me – and one I’ve always been a huge fan of, anyway. It’s somewhere downstream of The Count of Monte Cristo, a story where the agent of supernatural doom spends the majority of the story consciously working in the background, manipulating events and exacerbating the protagonist/victim’s flaws to lead them to a contrived but tragic end? Think the netflix Fall of the House of Usher, but like about the exact opposite end of the socioeconomic spectrum.

Class is very much something the book cares about. All four protagonists grew up poor on a reservation with little in the way of wealth or opportunity, and by the time they’d turned eighteen all four of them were the kind of young asshole who made life just a little bit worse for everyone around them dealing with the same shit. Ten years latter the three of them who’ve survived that long have gotten over themselves and matured in their own way (and to their own degree), but none of them are exactly flush with cash or living lives of bourgeois respectability (though Lewis comes close). The precarity and only tenuous connections to the society around them just make them better prey for what’s hunting them, of course – in every case, death comes after the (either metaphorical or very viscerally literal) destruction of the few close ties they have, and the only one to survive is also the only one who could really expect people to come rushing to their rescue.

Speaking of close ties the protagonists have – the book’s conception of gender is fascinatingly weird, or at least fascinating in the sense that I’m not at all sure how intentional it is. Of the four main victims, one dies alone at eighteen, and the other three who survive the next ten years are all pretty much explicitly saved (or at least improved and uplifted) by a relationship with a woman who, if not flawless, is basically strictly his moral and practical better. Even the most consistent fuckup of the group has a redeeming feature of being willing to do just about anything for his daughter (despite having lost the chance to really be a big part of her life several times over). With one exception, these women all then die, messily, entirely and explicitly to fuck with and ruin the lives of their men. It’s like someone read Women in Refrigerators and went ‘well there’s an idea...’. It’s blatant enough that I feel like it’s got to be making a deliberate point, but (unless it’s just genre emulation) what the point is does escape me slightly.

Also on the note of stuff I’m quite sure is going over my head at least a bit – basketball! It’s a pretty vital thread running through the entire book, to the point that one of the big set pieces of the final act is literally a basketball game with the monster. Which, like, I watched enough bad anime as a small child to find contrived game-playing under unclear mythic rules with things that really want to kill you instinctively endearing, but I can’t really do anything with this except just point at it.

So as the title might imply, this is a novel that’s concerned with race – all but I believe exactly one character is either is either Blackfeet or Crow, more than half the book takes place on a reservation, and a chunk of the rest is spent having to deal with racist assholes of varying severity. Now, I admit that I have at this point a probably overly cynical view of books that end up on breathless ‘socially conscious horror’ or ‘s/ff from diverse creators you NEED to read’ lists online, but I was still rather pleasantly by how matter-of-factly this was handled? I suppose the best way to put it is that culture, upbringing and racialization deeply inform everyone’s characters, but it never feels like the book is preoccupied with providing some assumed naive and impressionable audience any Important Lessons or provide Good Representation to valourize or emulate? Which is probably just a sign I need to raise and re calibrate my expectations, but.

The monster doesn’t exactly work as, like, a coherent character in terms of her skills and abilities, but as a monster the Elk-Headed Woman is great. But then I love contrived fucked up tragedies and am a longstanding partisan of Spooky Deer Horror, so I suppose I would say that.

So yeah, fun read!

#book review #sff #horror #the only good indians #stephen graham jones

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anim-ttrpgs · 8 months

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The Review Copy of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy

Guess what is coming soon at the time of writing this? The review copy of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy!

This represents the first official pre-release release of a version of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy that doesn’t look like an unformatted mess!

Don’t get me wrong, the version of Eureka you get for just $5 on our patreon is plenty readable, but in its current unformatted state the page count is hugely bloated, there’s a lot of blank space, and the flavor text is all just shoved under the body text with notes denoting it as such. Plus, it’s all just black text on a white background without much in the way of aesthetic besides the occasional snoop to break things up.

Well not anymore! The copy we are going to be sending to reviewers and rpg news outlets is going to be a test-run of our actual intended aesthetic for the finalized rulebook, that of a bunch of conspiracy and investigation notes pinned to a corkboard with red string connecting them!

(The text within the images you’re seeing here is slightly outdated because these are just mock-ups, the text in the actual review copy will be much cleaner thanks to some excellent copy-editing help we have been getting.)

Due to time constraints and being behind on deadlines, plus not having the Kickstarter money to pay for additional art yet, this version will not showcase the full scope of the intended aesthetic, but it will at least give you a pretty good idea of what we’re going for.

The final version is going to have a wider variety in the paper scraps so as to more efficiently use the space available, plus a bunch of different “styles” for the side text, which will help denote whether it is a rules clarification, an example, a bit of flavor text, etc—plus a whole Kickstarter campaign worth of art from theblackwarden, qsy, and chaospyromancy! The Kickstarter campaign is launching April 10th, 2024, and we are going to need about $3,000 to meet our base goal and $33,000 to meet all of our many stretch goals, so if you want a more stylish and artistic rulebook, please give what you can to our Kickstarter campaign in April!

We are gonna be sending this version of the rulebook to tons and tons of TTRPG personalities and news outlets within the next couple of weeks in hopes of an honest review or two that will help get Eureka on people's radar beyond the modest following we have here on Tumblr. If you are one such personality or news outlet, and you want to recieve access to the free review copy to read and write about, please do not hesitate to contact us, even if you only have a very small following! You can find our contact info on out website or just contact us right here on tumblr!

Check out our Kickstarter page for the best accumulation of info on what Eureka: investigative Urban Fantasy even is! The Kickstarter campaign launches April 10th 2024!

Check out our Patreon to get the whole prerelease rulebook + multiple adventure modules and pieces of short fiction for a subscription of only $5!

If you wanna try before you buy, check out our website for more information on Eureka as well as a download link to the free demo version!

Interested in actually playing this game, and many others, with the developers? Check out A.N.I.M.'s TTRPG Book Club, a club of nearly 100 members at the time of writing this where we regularly nominate, vote on, and then play indie TTRPGs! At the time of writing this, we are playing Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, and sign-ups are closed for actually playing it, but you can still join in to pick up a PDF club copy of the rulebook to read and follow along with discussion, and sit in on and observe sessions! There is no schedule obligation for joining this club, as we keep things very flexible by assigning multiple GMs with different timeslots each round, to try and accomodate everyone! This round, we had over thirty people sign up, and were able to fit in all but one! Here is the invite link! See you there!

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astronicht · 7 months

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re: Mordor's location

I'm confused! I can understand being annoyed that Mordor is in the east (for me, it's because any new birth/new beginnings symbolism fails. BUT on the other hand, it works great with tolkien's biblical stuff - from study.com, "'East of Eden' is an allusion to the Biblical Book of Genesis. After Cain murders his brother Abel, he is exiled to the land of Nod, 'east of Eden' (Genesis 4:16)". I LOVE Tolkien's biblical symbolism, and smeagol murdering his brother is a direct cain/abel reference, so having the evil be to the east really works for me.

So I guess I'm just wondering if a) the symbolism thing is what irritates you about Mordor's location (or if there's something else I'm missing), and b) how does the evil being in the north resolve this?

Hey cool question!

Caveat that I’m literally just liveblogging my first ever read of LOTR, so while I read Hobbit as a kid and I know the movies and a good portion of the medieval prose and poetry Tolkien is drawing on very well, the only LOTR text I can reference is… from the Shire to Weathertop. Additionally, my perspective is as a medievalist, but I wasn't raised Christian and can’t speak to Tolkien’s personal faith, just to how he might use (and does use) historical Christianity (and a bunch of non-Christian narratives) in his work. At least like. Up to Weathertop.

Short answer a) not exactly! b) Because I expected evil to be in the north, and it checked that box. So-- your particular interest in Christian symbolism is immediately relevant here, because about 700 years before the King James Bible, in the medieval literature (and medieval Christianity) among which Tolkien has settled his own Middle-Earth, people had very very strong feelings about the cardinal directions, and North was heavily associated with Lucifer — this being stated explicitly in an Old English retelling of Genesis called The Old English Hexameron. Here, Lucifer's fall starts like this:

"with a presumptuous pride (moodiness) he said that he would make his throne above the stars of God, over the height of the clouds, in the north part, and be like unto God." (p. 17; not my translation but my guy Henry Wilkins Norman nailed it)

mid dyrstigre modignysse cwæð ðæt he wolde wyrcan his cynesetl bufan Godes tunglum ofer ðæra wolcna heannysse on ðam norð dæle and beon Gode gelic. (p. 16)

In non-Christian stories (though written down centuries later by Christians), the Gylfaginning in the Prose Edda describes Hel as “down and to the North” (sorry, just a link wiki here). So, same idea, and beyond these texts, North is generally associated with hell, death, or evil in early medieval literature, much more clearly than East usually is (even factoring in Old English and Old Norse stories about Cain, Attila the Hun, and the more exciting fauna of the Indian subcontinent, all of which formed the early medieval idea of East). Thus, finding out that an original Big Bad, of whom Sauron was “but a servant,” had once made his throne in the north made me go “OH! He didn’t forget after all!” in utter frustrated delight. My confusion wasn't exactly with evil in the east; it was the lack of evil in the north.

(this reply is really long, but my main point ends here, for anyone looking to bail out)

Actually, Genesis retellings in Old English are absolutely fascinating; I’m not wedded to Christian-only symbolism, but if it’s what you enjoy a lot, I very much suggest looking into the Hexameron and Genesis A, both great examples and very well known to Tolkien.

Personally I suspect I'll end up reading the symbolism of Mordor in the east as a more complex and varied thing than solely a reference to Cain's banishment. But to be really clear, in saying that I'm definitely not saying that Cain and Nod aren't valid interpretations (especially when they work for you so well!). Just my guess and my perspective. Old evil in the north and Mordor in the east is really interesting! So was the story of how Hobbits etc wandered out of the east to colonize the Shire, in another early medieval echo. And with Aragorn's throwaway "In those days the Great Enemy, of whom Sauron of Mordor was but a servant, dwelt in Angband in the North" I got an extra point on the map, from which the story immediately unspooled into an even wider and richer thing. Which is so neat, I love everyone in this bar, etc.

Just a quick further note on Smeagol, because I happen to have just gone past this bit and it's fresh! As far as I know at uhhh this very early point in LOTR (maybe it's changed later), Deagol was not his brother but simply his friend: “He had a friend called Deagol, of a similar sort, sharper-eyed but not so quick and strong” (though if you like the Cain and Abel imagery, this doesn't change that much tbh! I can see how it hits that note regardless). They are under the same matriarch (perhaps implying family ties) who eventually throws Smeagol out years after Deagol's murder; I liked that bit, bc I have no idea where Tolkien's pulling proto-hobbit matriarchs from yet, and Smeagol later lied and said the matriarch had given him the One Ring, implying that she was a ring-giver like an Old English/Norse thane or king. Smeagol and Deagol (and Frodo) are also wrapped up in lots of different tropes and symbols; Cain and Abel, yes, but also Beowulf and Grendel, and probably some other stuff I'll notice in like 10 years and yell at the ghost of Tolkien about. I think these stories work so well because they’re layers upon layers. It’s stories all the way down, you know!

Much like this reply, which is endless, so sorry about that.

#IMMENSELY LONG ASK REPLY IM SORRY IM SORRY #ask replies #astro lotr #with further apologies for being pedantic but also not doing my own translations

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