#what a way for their identity’s to be revealed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

catzncoffee · 21 hours ago

Text

A little FiddleStan AU I cooked up, more information about the AU below the cut!

I'll probably post a few more characters from this AU later!

Aren't they just the cutest couple? (* ´ ▽ ` *)

BADEND FiddleStan Au

> Welcome to BLIND EYE CO. : Unsee It All!

-To Start us off, Ford sends his postcard over to Stanley a lá Canon, and Stanley immediately drops everything to rush up to Gravity Falls all the way from New Mexico, spending his last dime on gas and driving with as little breaks as possible. At this point in time, Fiddleford has left Stanford and is actively going through a divorce and the process of loosing his mind via mind gun overexposure. Stanford is not doing well, paranoid and extremely sleep deprived, watching for Bill in any eye sockets or triangles that flash in the corner of his eyes. None of them are doing well to sum it up.

- Stanley arrives fresh off a no breaks drive to meet with his estranged brother of 10 years, and while not exactly expecting a warm welcome, a crossbow pointed at his head and a flashlight shone in his eyes certainly didn't help set the tone of the meeting. Or help the spinning in his head. Or the Nausea. Frankly he only caught the tail end of Fords very concerning speech, but at least he knew to follow him down the stairs.

-naturally things devolve from there, Ford demanding Stanley take his research and flee while Stanley grapples with the fact that it's all Ford wanted of him. Spiraling into a physical fight once old grudges are dug up from their graves. A Fight that brands Stanley with a symbol he can't even understand, turning something on he didn't even know the danger of. A singular shove that absolutely wrecked Stanley's world, and the last words "Do Something Stanley!" Haunting the room as the portal that his brother built ate him and imploded.

- Fiddleford notices the gravitational anomalies and panics, going into hiding but terrified for Fords safety against his better judgment.

- Stanley spends the next week desperately trying to peice together both the portal and the journals contents, and his mental health takes an even steeper decline. He sits in the same lab going over whatever books he can find and that stupid journal over and over and over until he works on the portal till the next injury or road block, surviving off of whatever canned food both he and Ford combined had left

- Enter Fiddleford, who couldn't bear not to check on Ford after the gravitational anomalies and continued radio silence. Just a confirmation that he wasn't dead, Fiddleford told himself. Nothing more. Stanford deserved no more from him, after all Fiddleford had given. Just a quick safety check in for the sake of an old friend. A knock on the door, however, brought a slow shuffle towards it and opened to reveal a very tired, very devastated..... not Ford? But also Ford? At least he certainly looked like Ford. But Ford had less muscle mass last time Fiddleford saw him. Less hair too, because Stanford? Have a mullet? What sealed it was the normal, five fingered hands that the Not-Ford rubbed his eyes with when Fiddleford demanded, as politely as possible, to know who he was and where Stanford went.

- Fiddleford is invited in and the two sit on a couch Not-Ford cleared off in this waste zone of a house and explains that his name is Stanley, and he's the estranged brother of Ford. Who also happens to be his identical twin. Ford had called him up to help him by taking his stupid journal and running, the two got in a fight, and Ford got sucked in. Fiddleford felt cold panic settle in his gut, thoughts scattered and memories of what was on the other side coming back in nauseating waves, lapping at his consciousness.

- At first Stanely succeeds in getting Fiddleford to help him with the portal, and he's extatic while Fiddleford is decidedly not. However much to Fiddlefords surprise, he isn't forced into the basement, or working on that devil machine, or even couped up in the study to work nonstop. Instead, Stanley gives him a notebook and pen, and gives a description or photo of the exact thing he needs help with, explains to the best of his, admittedly limited, knowledge what the problem is, and has Fiddleford help. Then, Stanley thanks him profusely and dissapears by himself down to the depths of the lab, laving Fiddleford with the glow of the TV and a warm drink.

And it confuses him.

Greatly.

Because there were very few times Ford mention having a twin; Fiddleford could count them on one hand. But Ford had been angry most of those times, other than the one or two when crying and drunk, saying that Stanley had been 'ruled by emotion' and was 'brash with no tact'. But where Ford had been accusatory and sharp, Stanley had been understanding and toned down. There had been very few times over the last few days Stanley had raised his voice, and it was more out of frustration or picking at a touchy subject than anything. And more than that was the way he would shrink just a bit and apologize with enough self loathing that Fiddleford could taste it, sticky and bitter in the back of his throat. Stanford ignored everything when in a project. Stanley only seemed to ignore himself. Stanley was nothing like Stanford had been, and Fiddleford found himself craving those differences more and more, craving more time spent with Stanley, more conversation, more memories, just more Stanley. A pleasant but confusing change, especially when Stanley's features where so similar to Fords.

- Fiddleford would blame the fact that he didn't notice Stanley's condition until much later into staying back at Fords place on the way his mind was still shifting itself into something usable again, however once he noticed he would never stop cursing himself for how he didn't before. Stanley had collapsed in the kitchen, and it had taken nearly all of Fiddlefords mental power to drag the information on his injuries out of Stanley so he could treat them. The poor man had been walking around with that nasty burn treated the best Stanley could, but improperly the whole time, and infection had begun to set in like a bastard. That wasn't even beginning to speak of the malnutrition, dehydration and multiple other bruises and cuts, some yellowed, faded, crusted over, some fresh, purpled and bloodied all on too pale skin. Scars told of a life that was harder than Fiddleford had ever originally thought to think of, questions popping in his mind as he treated the increasingly more worrying Stanley.

And in this Time, Fiddleford was alone with his thoughts.

Fiddleford was here. Again. In Fords house, trying to save him from himself. Again. And frankly he was tired. He'd pushed past his family in favor of Fords shiny promises and stayed far past when he should have, gave more of his knowledge, more of his friendship, hell, more of his heart than he'd ever thought possible. And Ford still always wanted, Needed, more. Fiddleford had felt all that rage for himself and his life over and over, but feeling it for someone else was new. Yet here he was.

Here Stanley was.

Because really, what kind of man gets a call from a man he hasn't seen in 10 years, basically a stranger, one who never talks about him, and drops absolutely everything to help them? New Mexico was a 20 hour drive from Gravity Falls, and Stanley had driven that with the absolute last of his money, no sleep, just driving. Only for Ford to completely dismiss him for the survival of his research over the world. Fiddleford had no idea what Stanley supposedly 'did' when they were younger, like Stanford had vaguely mentioned and Stanely kept saying in a heartbreakingly familiar tone dripping with guilt and self hatred, but Fiddleford could tell from a mile away it was bullshit. Stanford had no reason to hate Stanley so badly. Stanley had no reason he should have helped Ford after God knows what he went through, but he did anyways. Ford? Fiddleford would bet the last of his sanity just to say that Ford wouldn't return the favour. He never had before.

- Fiddleford spirals deeper and deeper as he treats a heavily feverish Stanley, his hatred for Ford growing into a tangible thing the more he thought. And oh, how much simpler this would have all been if he'd simply met Stanley first. Rougher around the edges but kinder. Sweeter. God the way he was so gentle with Fiddleford even though he had no reason to be. The way he'd taken the existence of the memory gun in stride and stated he'd be here if Fiddleford needed support with it. It would be so much easier if Stanley just agreed to shut the portal down forever. Then they could just live. Together, of course, Fiddleford didn't think he could live without Stanley's gruff support now that he'd had it, but just. Simply live. Without the threat of the world, or demons, or weirdness over top of them.

Without the threat of Ford.

Oh how tempting it was, Fiddleford thought, in the days were Stanley was becoming more lucid while still soft and warm due to his sickness, to just simply erase Ford from Stanley's mind. But that would leave too much of a gap, and as he regains his mind bit by bit, Fiddleford begins to come to the conclusion that the memory gun needed a bit of work, yes, but as long as it wasn't over used then it's intended purpose would be served. Over using included, however, memories that were too big to simply pluck out completely. Its where he'd went wrong with his own treatment, and like hell he would leave Stanley to deal with the consequences of that.

Then, in the last few days where Stanley was beginning to move about in small increments as he shook away the last clawing hands of illness away, Fiddleford realized it. He didn't need to erase Ford completely from Stanley's mind.

Fiddleford just had to erase Stanley's love for Ford.

- So, he was patient. Fiddleford waited until Stanley was well, until he walked with full strength and his laugh was full again, until he was sure that the grown affection Stanley had for him after his illness allowed him close enough.

Fiddleford even made sure his memory gun was freshly updated and tuned to the most perfect he'd ever gotten it, making sure the shot would be clean and accurate for his Stanley's sake. Only the best for that man from now on, Fiddleford swore it.

Then he waited until he'd made sure Stanley was relaxed. Had gone out for the day and convinced him to go out to Greasys with Fiddleford. Had taken Stanley for a walk through the woods and laughed as his eyes sparked in excitement even as he cussed out a gnome. Had curled up together, warm and safe on the couch, watching movies and drinking a couple beers. Fiddleford even managed to persuade Stanley away from another long night in the portal room, asking him to stay to sleep for Fiddlefords sake, which Stanley relented to nearly immediately. It was all just such a perfect day. It all just confirmed to Fiddleford that he was absolutely doing the right thing. He'd be happier. Stanley would be happier. And Ford could stay having his horrific adventures on the other side, just like he had seemed to want so badly.

In the dead quiet of that night, Fiddleford pulled the memory gun silently from underneath his pillow, and smiled at Stanley, sleeping soundly on his chest, and fired it directly at Stanley's temple. The only sound Stanley made was a soft exhale, one that Fiddleford chose to believe was relief.

- In the following years, Fiddleford never regretted that choice. Stanley woke up and immediately broke down to Fiddleford, initially panicking him at first thinking he'd broken Stanley, them realized the man was talking about desperately not wanting to bring Ford back, asking Fiddleford if he thought he was horrible for saying so. After that it had been Fiddlefords pleasure to inform his sweet Stanley that not only did he not hate him, but shared his thoughts and truthfully didn't want to open that portal ever again. Things had moved quicker with Stanley dismantling the cursed thing than building it, and Fiddleford hadn't ever been happier. Clearing out Fords house of anything not safe to research or just plain garbage had been so satisfying too, convincing Stanley with little effort to replace any symbol of Bill with quite literally anything else. The Society of the Blind Eye had been a surprise, after all Fiddleford had never expected a group of people to find his scrapped plans or suggest he ever start them, but it was sweet, professional conman Stanley who had suggested making something more out of it. Afterall, Fidds had wanted his own company once, why not start with this?

- With that, BLIND EYE CO. was born, originally starting as a cover for the Society to do their work, growing into a more legitimate business with Fiddlefords inventions and Stanley's charisma faster than they'd thought possible. Fiddleford even continued the Gravity Falls anomaly research to better understand what could cause what, and which things were better of forgotten. Stanley, however, wanted nothing to do with the research of the journal to help with these findings, stating that nothing Ford had made he would ever want to touch, which suited Fiddleford just fine, in fact it delighted him. With Fiddleford and Stanley as both the owners and CEOs of the company( and the Society not that the town knew) it was no wonder the town quickly came to love them and know them, this large company that gave back to the community and was started right here in sleepy little Gravity Falls! How novel.

- Fiddlefords son, Tate, (now allowed to visit since Fiddleford was 'mentally stable') had taken the change badly at first, seeing his father turn from fine to broken to better than ever before, but warmed up once Stanley showed his soft side to him. Tate seemed to like Stanley better than he ever had Ford, which made Fiddlefords heart absolutely soar with happiness. Stanley and Fiddleford, while it wasn't legal to be married just yet, didn't have a solid relationship with the law anyhow and happily wore matching rings with pride. The memory gun is still in use and is consistently upgraded, with Fiddleford being the main figurehead to use it while Stanley happily sat next to him and did whatever he needed.

- Meanwhile in the nightmare realm, things are absolutely not going how Bill Cipher thought. Seriously how the hell was he to know the hillbilly would come back and steal Mackerel away from fixing the portal?! Stanley should have been getting that portal open to get Fordsy not forgetting he ever even liked sixer! Once again that stupid Specs, always messing up Bills progress. He does, however, get a new idea on how to screw with Ford while he's trapped here.

- Ford is greeted randomly, via Bill, with mirrors into his home dimension, taunting him with what's happening just to screw with him as he survives.

And screw with him it does.

Ford watches helplessly as his closest friend and former partner cuddles up to his frantically overworked brother finally at rest, and puts the memory gun to his head, and sees pure Red.

Ford is now hopping though dimensions with a purpose; subdue Bill, get home, cure Stanley, and Kill Fiddleford. And he won't stop until he does.

- Enter Mabel and Mason(Dipper) Pines, sent to their Grunkle 'Stanford' and his husband for the summer, when Dipper finds a journal that seems to have a page of a diffrent kind of paper hes never seen sticking out. The note holds an incantation written in the same cursive as the journal, and details preforming a spell on a mirror, labelled simply as EMERGENCY CONTACT NEEDED. Upon doing the incantation, the children are met with a shadow in the mirror telling them he's their trapped uncle, he's trying to get back to someone named 'Stanley' Pines, dont make deals with yellow triangles and above all else:

Do NOT Trust FIDDLEFORD

Do NOT Trust 'STANFORD'

TRUST NO ONE

Welcome to Gravity Falls!~☆

#digital art #art #gravity falls #stanley pines #fiddleford mcgucket #fiddlestan #gravity falls au #BLINDEYECO.#bad end au

201 notes · View notes

myechoecho · 2 days ago

Text

Watch the first two episodes of When the Phone Rings and where has something like this been ALL year in kdramaland???

There is something delicious about how Sa Eon and Hee Joo are both in communication yet have zero communication with one another. I love that she told him off at the party in sign language knowing he would not understand. The fact that she's been quietly defying him this entire time and he's only just realizing it now.

Did I suspect that Hee Joo was not actually mute? Absolutely. It would have been more surprising if she was mute. However, I was floored when it was revealed that Hee Joo had the phone and was using it to taunt Sa Eon in a moment of sheer rage and hurt. The utter betrayal she feels because he told the kidnapper to go ahead an kill her then he has the nerve to say at the party she is his weakness what just too much for her. I fully support this deranged and brilliant move.

Now we get this bizarre flirtation between the two, with them weirdly learning more about the other all through the voice modulated cell phone that Hee Joo swiped. . Hee Joo taunting him with all he doesn't know about her. Sa Eon learning he does not know about Hee Joo and then becoming determined to learn about her. Though that, Hee Joo learning that he actually does care and probably always did. This is what is going to push them together.

Though for someone that says they are in absolute control of everything, it's slightly odd that Sa Eon would not learn sign language. Like what if she was telling the ambassador that she is being held hostage and needs help? I guess she's been isolated and hidden enough to not matter. Even the way he "confirmed" how she was home in order for him to say to the kidnapper to kill her was a bit lazy.

At the same time, there was clearly some nagging doubt that Sa Eon had. He was very much relieved that she was safe. He was also absolutely furious to learn that the kidnapping was real as seen by his bloody knuckles. Not sure why he thought he knew her when they did not speak through their 3 year marriage, but now it's driving him nuts to know that there are pieces of her he simply does not understand. He is going to rectify that.

I am very curious as to how their marriage came to be. The reveal at the end that it was Sa Eon to suggest the bride swap seemingly to save Hee Joo from marriage to a terrible person. Even though he is cold and indifferent to her and literally called her a hostage so it's still not a great situation for Hee Joo to be in. I have a strong suspicion that person texting Sa Eon was Hee Joo, and NOT her sister. The language used in the text is identical to the language Hee Joo used in the present to threaten Sa Eon.

If I am right about this, that opens up so many questions. Why did Hee Joo want to stop the marriage? Where is her sister? Did her sister know? What secrets of Sa Eon's family did Hee Joo know? Why did Sa Eon suggest the bride swap after leaning Hee Joo was to be married? Did he always care for her? Why did Hee Joo agree to this marriage, since the person on the other end of the text was obviously thrown by the suggestion? We know that Hee Joo's mom/step mom uses her father to manipulate her so that probably plays a role but is there more to it?

Clearly the kidnapper is also going to make a reappearance since he's not going to let all his carefully laid plans go to waste. The preview for the next episode has me excited. And Hee Joo and Sa Eon have bucket loads of chemistry.

I will end with my now obligatory rant on how this show should be 16 episodes. At least it's 12 episodes since those shows tend to work a bit better than the ones that are 10 eps or less. But I am still bitter about the episode count.

#when the phone rings #kdrama

94 notes · View notes

rootspiral · 2 days ago

Text

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 4 part 6

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7])

(I can't believe I squeezed six entries out of this dang episode!!!)

agatha sees billy waking up and takes her usual moment to wipe all genuine emotion from her face and put on her mask. it's getting increasingly clear that this wretch of a woman is always wearing a mask and playing the larger-than-life uncaring witch she wishes she could be

not that she cares about you or anything.

billy does that thing children do. he doesn't say thank you or ask why she's crying, he asks about himself, his current troubles and fears, looking for guidance. that's the wonderful thing about a parent, they give a child a safe environment to grow and make mistakes and explore. A parent is, or should be, selfless. That billy feels safe doing this with agatha tells you he instinctively trusts her much more than he realizes.

agatha never lies to billy

and the way she's always drawn to teaching and explaining and guiding despite herself. deep, deep down agatha is a nurturing person who only ever got to nurture for a short time

I just realize agatha cannot actually say the name billy, can she? because of the sigil. so this is her going, I know it's still you kiddo, behind all that. I see some people arguing that agatha might actually think he's Nicky at first and personally I don't believe that's the case, the dialogue is muddy only to mislead the viewers before the big Wiccan reveal.

Two reasons agatha knew this was billy all along: she's had three centuries to sit with nicky's loss now. nicky is gone for good, no matter all her tricks and her pleading and her endless pit of sorrow, that is the one irrevocable fact that she will never be able to change. that is the cornerstone, the whole core of who agatha is today. she has lost nicky, she has committed unspeakable horrors to cope with that loss. she is afraid to die because nicky is on the other side and she cannot face him.

The second reason is that agatha loves billy for being billy, not just as a nicky stand-in. she was uniquely equipped to understand and empathize with wanda, and that's even truer for billy because he's a little boy and agatha's whole heart is wired and predisposed to reach out to him. she saw the miracle that was his birth, she saw first hand what chaos magic can do. this is a child flung out in the world carrying an immense power and no instructions on how to use it. he's capable of terrible things that could easily turn him into a monster and a pariah, and agatha is, besides wanda, the only person in the world who truly understands what that means. do you remember what happened to agatha at around the age billy is now? everything in her is demanding to guide and help. selfishly, because all that power would be hers to control. selfishly because he reminds her of herself and she wants to undo what her mother did to her. and selfishly because helping billy would in a way redeem what she did to nicky.

and also, selflessly. because she wants to help him grow and be successful and be happy.

billy created the Road to find tommy, sure. but what he's been doing on the Road is finding community. or rather, getting close to witchfolk to find out who he is in relationship to them, exploring the identity he was born with that he cannot express with his adoptive parents. he started with a lot of silly ideas on what witches should and shouldn't be and created trials that are, let's face it, rather stereotyped and demeaning. next trial is agatha and he is puzzling her out now, willing her to become the ideal witch and mentor he's looking for. he's doing it with the grace of an elephant in a china store, but that's just what being a kid is.

aaand the wall is all the way up and she runs away. but we made some progress there, didn't we?

oh to be a vampire and getting to bite patti lupone's neck

rio looks so engrossed and fascinated listening to lilia! rio just loves people, you know? she loves life in all its multifaceted forms, and that's not at odds with her job description at all. she is The Green Witch, she has embraced nature, which is to say life, so completely that all of it is important and precious to her. my headcanon is that as the original green witch she started ferrying souls because she deeply understood and accepted death as natural and organic and sought to help it along. it's funny, lilia is terrified of her but if asked, rio would have such a long list of things that make lilia special.

and that such a being would fell in love with agatha of all people?? god that is amazing. that is how you write a beautifully doomed epic love story. billions and billions of humans throughout history, and agatha is who caught her eye. and not because agatha is a serial killer mind you, that's just foreplay. it's because she is the most intense, the most interesting human Death ever came across. while others saw a damaged girl, rio saw poetry in her extraordinary complexity

and then, through agatha and nicky, rio experienced grief from a new point of view. Death, no longer impartial.

a wiser future Lilia pays another brief visit

and she's gone. her puzzled little face!

from being awkward and fearing her oddities to laughing with her about it. another step toward a deeper understanding, and acceptance, and love.

look at agatha's body language when she approaches. uncertain, arms crossed. these people have seen her without her mask now, openly weeping about billy

and then she puts her hands in her pockets and postures, ready to underplay things. pppft, crying? moi? you guys must have dreamed it.

alice with her big compassionate heart will never be able to think of agatha as cruel and distant again

agatha picks up rio's flower

rio looks at her

pretends she wasn't looking when agatha looks back

you could cut the damn tension with a knife

jen trying to include agatha??? man they did really see her cying fr

look how interested lilia is! I wish shows could just be 15 hours of women hanging out and chatting, no plot, just vibes

agatha glances at rio as if saying, you know exactly which scar this is. and rio chuckles because she remembers the story. THE INTIMACY BETWEEN THESE TWO. I'm going feral again.

what is this, camaraderie? community? perhaps even, dare I say it, friendship???

agatha doesn't know what to do with herself!

behold the textbook definition of 'awkward turtle'

oh rio's DETERMINED

'no you don't' 'yes I do' STOP IT YOU STUPID GAYS

agatha all casual like honey I've seen every inch of that body

just... the way they fell into a rhythm. the doMESTICITY.

lol jen's and alice's gaydars pinging at the same time. like somETHING FRUITY IS AFOOT. AND WE WOULD KNOW.

and fuck fuck fuck fuck I cannot believe I've run out of space again and I need to do a part 7

LOOK WHAT THESE LESBIANS ARE DOING TO ME (it'll be up in like an hour guys don't worry)

go to episode 4 part 7

#agatha all along #agatha deep dive #agathario #agatha harkness #rio vidal #billy maximoff #lilia calderu #jennifer kale #alice wu gulliver #character study

110 notes · View notes

ri-writes-if · 1 day ago

Note

Hi! I just found your story and I love it, so I was reading all the asks 🤣 for the "save MC or the world" I wanted to ask, if after years (a century? Enough that their mind is "stable") that the ROs saved the world, while on a trip they see MC alive in the "country side", what do they do? Do they think they are immagining things, do they try to find MC? If they decide to look for them and they meet MC, what would they do if they find out that MC doesn't recognize/remember them (MC almost died and lost their memories)? MC now lives a quiet life with the one who saved/healed them (not clear if they are romantically or platonically involved with each other, but they are very very close). Do they try to get MC remember them, do they try to restart all from the start, do they leave MC there and go back?

The mentioned scenario

Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying the story 💛

What a curious ask 👀

Vez knows it's you, but they want to make sure they're not mistaking someone else for you, so they'll come to talk to you. Upon realizing you don't remember them and figuring out you're not pretending, they hide their pain behind a smile and bid your goodbye. They'll arrange for someone to protect you, but they'll never go to you again, believing that they wasted all their chances with you when they sacrificed you. They don't deserve you, and you'll be better off finding happiness somewhere else. Better even if with someone else. If you ever has problems with something, they'll help you from the shadows, never revealing their involvement and identity. You still will be a part of their life, though you won't know about it.

Os doesn't believe it's you at first. Surely they're mistaken. They walk away, but the memory keeps pestering them, so they halt and run back to where they saw you. They don't know what to say to you, so they carefully observe you from afar before gathering courage to approach you. When they realize you don't remember them, they once again are thrown into utter confusion. Do they let you go? Do they try to remind you of them? But they sacrificed you. Would you want to be with them after all of that? They won't be able to decide at the moment, so they'll need time to think it over. Ultimately, they'll decide to let you go, but they last long. They want you in their life, in any way you can be, so they'll approach you again and try to befriend you. They won't let you come too close to them, however, because they don't want to hurt you again.

Laz thinks they're hallucinating, though they shouldn't. They're stable now. Which means you're real. Which is impossible. They follow you around, observing your behavior intently, like a hunter hunting its prey. They won't approach you at first—instead, they'll send someone to gather information about you. When they conclude it's really you, they'll come to you. It doesn't matter that you don't remember them. They'll crawl back into your life one way or another, no matter how much time it'll take. They know they shouldn't—you were hurt because of them—but they're too selfish to let you go. They won't pay much attention to your new friend; they're no threat to Laz or your relationship, and if they try to become one, well... :)

Ash cries. They break down right on the street, where they saw you. They're unwell, and they can't follow you because it's hard to breathe and their vision is darkening. Ash returns to the palace and tells everyone about this and asks Vez to send someone to find you, to gather information, because they don't know if it really was you or if they hallucinated. If it was you, then they'll come to find you, though they won't go alone—they're too scared. When they realize you don't remember them, they're shocked. They didn't think of this possibility at all. They thought you didn't want to come back to them, and if you said so, they would respect your decision, though it would break them all over again. But what do they do with this? They'll try to remind you of them and tell about your times together. If you allow them back into your life, they won't ask for much or try to get back with you. They'll let the nature take its course. As long as you're alive and happy and they can be near you, they're content.

(Let's pretend Az didn't go insane) Az comes right to you, asking you so many questions, babbling, barely making sense. I doubt you would understand them. Once you tell them you don't know them, they quieten, staring at you in surprise. They laugh, thinking you're joking with them, and say that this is a very cruel prank. When they realize you're not lying or joking, they take a step back and try to clear their thoughts. They'll calmly introduce themselves and explain that they knew you, and something bad happened, and they thought they lost you, but you're clearly alive, and they're very happy about it, and how have you been living so far? The barrage of words doesn't stop. Ultimately, they'll try to win you back, but they don't mind playing the long game and slowly gaining your trust. They did it once—they can do it again. They'll be very careful with your friend, try to get on their good side too, because they understand you might send them away if they offend your friend, and they won't allow that to happen. If your friend at any point shows romantic interest in you, well, Az knows how to play these games, and nothing will stop them from becoming the one you choose.

Thanks for the ask! The answer is kinda long, so sorry, lol... Hope you enjoy it 💛

#the abyssal song #asks #interactive fiction #interactive game #interactive novel #twine wip #tas: vez #tas: os #tas: laz #tas: ash #tas: az

60 notes · View notes

chelseaknoo · 2 days ago

Note

I thought of this funny idea.The reader and eminem are married and she's like a supermodel.What Marshall doesn’t know about her is that she has 2 other identical sisters making them triplets.The reader decides to prank Marshall ,making him think he's going insane while recording 🤣

Eminem x model! Reader

Plot:You Decide to Prank Your Rapper Husband with Your Twin Sisters.

As close as you are to your sisters, they’ve always been a huge part of your life, and you’ve shared everything together—except for this little secret. Now, you're feeling playful and want to prank Marshall with your sisters. You’ve been planning it for a while, coordinating with your sisters to make sure everything goes perfectly.

As the day of the prank approaches, you can’t help but smile, knowing that it’ll be a fun, lighthearted moment in your already exciting life with Marshall.

You walked up to him slowly, your bare feet making no sound against the tiled floor. With a slight tilt of your head, you let your lashes flutter, your lips curving into a playful smile. Standing close enough for the warmth of your body to brush against his arm, you reached out and lightly trailed a finger along his forearm.

“Marshall…” you murmured, your voice soft and sultry, as though the words themselves carried a secret. His eyes flicked from his phone to you, curiosity replacing his distraction.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” you whispered, leaning in just enough for your robe to part slightly at the neckline, revealing a glimpse of lace. “I miss you.” Your tone was a blend of longing and mischief, every word laced with invitation.

With a gentle touch, you rested your hand against his chest, your eyes locking onto his. “Why don’t you come to bed with me?” you asked, your voice like silk itself, smooth and irresistible.

Marshall’s eyebrows lifted slightly as he locked his phone and set it down on the counter. His lips curved into a small smirk as he looked you over, his eyes lingering on the soft shimmer of your silk robe and the teasing glimpse of lace beneath it.

“Well, aren’t you full of surprises this morning,” he said, his voice low and amused. He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as though trying to appear unfazed. But you caught the flicker of interest in his gaze—he wasn’t fooling anyone.

You tilted your head, your lashes fluttering again. “I’ve been full of surprises since the day you met me,” you teased, letting your fingers trail down his chest slowly. “But I think you’ll like this one.”

Marshall chuckled softly, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Oh, I’m sure I will. But tell me something…” He leaned down, bringing his face closer to yours. “What’s got you in this kind of mood?”

You shrugged innocently, though the small, sly smile on your lips betrayed you. “Can’t a wife just miss her husband? Or do I need a reason to want to spend some time with you?”

Marshall let out a mock sigh of defeat, his hands resting at your waist. “You really know how to make a guy feel guilty, huh?”

“Guilty enough to follow me upstairs?” you asked, your tone playful but insistent as you tugged lightly on his shirt.

His smirk turned into a full grin as he took a step closer, his hands sliding to the small of your back. “Lead the way, Mrs. Mathers.

After you both walked upstairs, Marshall, unable to contain his desire, pushed you gently onto the bed. He began to kiss you passionately, his lips roaming all over your face, your mouth, expressing the love and hunger he felt for you in the moment. His hands slid over your body, his touch electrifying as he showered you with affection, making your heart race.

However, as things started to heat up, Marshall paused for a moment, his hand reaching towards the drawer to grab a condom. But to his surprise, he found that the drawer was empty. His brows furrowed in mild frustration, and he quickly pulled away from you, muttering a quiet curse under his breath. “Hold on, babe. I’ll be right back.”

He kissed you one last time before getting up, his eyes still filled with desire as he made his way to the closet downstairs to grab the box of condoms.

As Marshall opened the closet, rummaging through the shelves to find the box of condoms, he suddenly heard a voice that made him freeze in his tracks. "Hey, babe," came your usual flirty tone, playful and seductive, but it sounded as though it was coming from behind him. He turned around, expecting to see you standing there, but what he saw left him momentarily speechless.

There, standing in the doorway, was “you”—or at least, someone who looked exactly like you. She wore the same outfit you had on earlier, the same familiar smile, the same playful glint in her eyes. The resemblance was so uncanny that Marshall blinked in disbelief, his mind racing to make sense of what he was seeing. He had just left you in the bedroom, lying on the bed, and now here you were, standing in front of him, calling him “babe” with that same flirtatious tone.

Confusion swept over him as he tried to process the situation. His gaze shifted from the woman standing before him to the bedroom where he had left you moments ago. How could this be? Wasn’t she just lying there on the bed, her body warm and relaxed?

Before he could question it further, the woman who looked like you reached out and touched him, her hand lightly grazing his chest. "You look so good," she purred, her fingers trailing down his shirt as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. Marshall stood frozen, completely baffled. He couldn’t understand what was happening, but everything about her—her voice, her movements, even the way she called him "babe"—was so familiar.

In a state of confusion, he took a step back, his mind racing. What was going on? How could you be in two places at once? Had he lost track of what was happening? Was he dreaming? His thoughts were spinning as he tried to make sense of the impossible situation.

The woman who looked exactly like you stepped closer, her eyes locking with Marshall’s as she flashed a seductive smile. "So," she began, her voice soft and inviting, "how about we watch a movie together?" She raised an eyebrow, her playful tone making the suggestion sound more like a command than a casual offer.

Marshall’s heart skipped a beat, his confusion deepening. A movie?But just moments ago, you had asked him to come to bed with you, your words full of passion and desire. Now, this woman—who was supposed to be you—was suggesting something completely different. His brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

"Wait," he stammered, his mind racing. "But... didn’t you just say you wanted to go to bed?" He looked at her, still reeling from the sudden shift in behavior. It felt like something was terribly wrong, but everything about this woman mirrored you—her voice, her look, even the way she moved.

She chuckled softly, brushing off his confusion with a casual wave of her hand. "What are you talking about?" she asked with a coy smile, her tone almost mocking. "I didn’t say anything like that. Now come on, hurry up and follow me," she urged, her voice taking on a more insistent note. She gave him a playful nudge, guiding him toward the living room. "The movie’s waiting."

Marshall stood there, frozen for a moment, trying to process everything. Was he imagining things? Was he somehow caught in a strange, surreal moment where his own senses were betraying him? He had just been in the bedroom, and you had clearly asked him to come to bed. Now, this woman—this version of you—was acting as though nothing had happened, inviting him to do something completely different. It didn’t make sense.

His heart raced as he followed her, his mind reeling with questions. He wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. The woman in front of him smiled again, leading him into the next room as if nothing unusual had occurred, leaving him with more questions than answers.

As Marshall walked with the woman who looked exactly like you, his mind was still spinning with questions. Suddenly, another figure appeared from the hallway, stopping him in his tracks. It was you—or so it seemed. This woman was identical to the first, wearing the same radiant smile, her voice dripping with flirtation as she stepped close and touched his arm.

"Hey, baby," she cooed, her fingers lightly brushing his bicep. "Let’s go shopping. I saw this jacket today that you’d look so sexy in." Her tone was playful, but her touch was lingering, her gaze locked on his.

Marshall’s eyes widened, and he took a half-step back, glancing between the two women. His brain struggled to keep up. "Wait... what the hell is going on here?" he muttered, his voice laced with disbelief. He looked at the second woman, then back at the first, his confusion mounting by the second. They were identical, down to every detail—their outfits, their voices, the way they smiled at him.

Before he could even try to untangle the madness, you appeared at the top of the stairs. "Marshall?" you called out, your voice laced with playful impatience as you made your way down. "What’s taking so long? I’ve been waiting for you." Your expression was cool and composed, as if you didn’t notice the two women standing in the hallway.

Marshall turned to you, relief flickering in his eyes—but it was short-lived. He gestured wildly at the two identical women. "Do you see this?" he asked, his voice an octave higher than usual. "What—how—" He was at a loss for words, his thoughts completely scrambled.

But you remained calm, brushing past the other two women as though they didn’t exist. "What are you talking about?" you asked innocently, pretending not to notice the chaos.

Marshall blinked, his head snapping between all three of you. "What the hell is going on here?" he demanded, his voice full of frustration and bewilderment. "How are there three of you? And why aren’t you saying anything about this?" he asked, pointing at you.

You simply shrugged, fighting back a smirk. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe. Maybe you’re just tired," you said, feigning innocence as you casually leaned against the banister.

Marshall groaned, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of the impossible scene unfolding in front of him. "This... this isn’t normal," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "You can’t all be you."

The other two women grinned, each stepping closer to him, leaving him completely trapped in a whirlwind of confusion. Meanwhile, you stood back, struggling to keep a straight face as you watched your prank play out exactly as planned.

He turned to you, his eyes desperate. “You’re the real one, right? Please tell me you’re the real one.”

You bit your lip, pretending to think it over. “Hmm… maybe I am,” you said coyly, drawing out the moment. “Or maybe I’m not.”

Marshall groaned, burying his face in his hands. “This isn’t funny anymore!” he said, his voice muffled.

The three of you exchanged amused looks, barely able to hold in your laughter as the prank continued to unfold.

As Marshall stood there, completely overwhelmed, you and your sisters could no longer hold it in. Laughter erupted from all three of you, echoing through the hallway. It started as a soft giggle but quickly turned into full-blown, uncontrollable laughter, tears streaming down your faces as you clutched your sides.

Marshall blinked, his brows furrowing as he looked at each of you. “Wait, what—what’s so funny?” he stammered, his voice tinged with frustration and bewilderment. “What the hell is going on here?”

One of your sisters wiped a tear from her eye, barely able to contain herself. “Oh my god, his face,” she managed to choke out between laughs, pointing at him. “He looks like he’s seen a ghost!”

The other sister doubled over, clutching her stomach. “Marshall, you should’ve seen yourself! You were *so* confused!”

You, still laughing, finally stepped forward and placed a hand on his chest, trying to catch your breath. “Babe, calm down,” you said, your voice trembling with amusement. “It’s a prank. These are my sisters.”

Marshall’s jaw dropped, and he looked between the three of you again, his confusion slowly giving way to realization. “Wait... sisters?” he repeated, his voice rising. “You’re telling me there’s *three* of you?”

You nodded, grinning. “Yep. Identical triplets.” You gestured to your sisters, who stood there grinning like Cheshire cats. “I can’t believe I never told you. I figured it was time to introduce them... in our own way.”

Marshall blinked a few times, his brain still catching up. “Triplets? Are you kidding me? You mean to tell me this whole time I’ve been with you, and I never knew you had two carbon copies running around?”

Your sisters burst into laughter again, one of them playfully nudging his arm. “Carbon copies? Ouch, Marshall,” one of them teased. “We prefer ‘flawless originals.’”

The other sister chimed in, smirking. “Don’t take it too hard. She wanted to see how long she could keep it a secret. And well... this was too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

Marshall groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe this. You seriously let me think I was losing my mind!” He looked at you, half-annoyed but mostly bewildered. “How long have you been planning this?”

You shrugged, a sly smile on your face. “A while. I knew it would get you good.”

Marshall sighed, shaking his head, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered. “All of you.”

One of your sisters grinned. “We take that as a compliment.”

The tension finally broke as Marshall let out a chuckle, the absurdity of the situation sinking in. “You got me,” he admitted, holding up his hands. “I’ll give you that. But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook that easily. Payback’s coming.”

You leaned in, wrapping your arms around him with a laugh. “Oh, I’m sure it is. But admit it—you’ll never forget this moment.”

Marshall shook his head, a bemused smile on his face as he glanced at your sisters. “Yeah, you’re right about that. Triplets. Unbelievable.”

#eminem x reader #marshall mathers x reader #eminem #eminem imagine #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers #slim shady

68 notes · View notes

literaryvein-reblogs · 2 days ago

Note

hope ur day is going well! just wondering how to write a mystery (i think that's the genre of my book) and if it has a different structure than a regular coming-of-age story

Writing Notes: Mystery Novel

Mystery writing is a subgenre of fiction writing that relies on clues and suspense to captivate the reader.

Here are a few tips for creating an unforgettable mystery story:

Read other mysteries often. Great mystery novels are full of writing advice if you pay close attention. Read classic mystery books and short stories as well as best-selling crime fiction from new writers. Once you reach the end of the book and the mystery is revealed, return to the first page. Start over, noticing how and when the author shared clues and used misdirection to both untangle the mystery and heighten the suspense.

Know every detail of the crime. Whether you’re writing a murder mystery or the story of a bloodless crime, the misdeed at the heart of your mystery story drives the narrative. Before you get far along on your first draft, outline everything about the crime. Map out the who, what, where, when, why, and how. Great mystery writers also research the crime itself—whether it’s poisoning or pick-pocketing, know the mechanisms at play.

Open with intrigue. Mystery readers want to be dropped right into a thrilling tale of bad guys and red herrings, cliffhangers and diligent sleuths. Many crime novels open on the crime itself, then move forward or use flashback to keep readers enraptured as the main character begins their hunt for a masterful thief, deranged serial killer, or whoever the villain may be.

Construct convincing characters. Many of the best mystery books, detective novels, thrillers, and whodunits focus on strong character development. Remember that you are dealing with human beings, not stereotypes. Your main character, whether they are amateur sleuth or professional detective, functions as the eyes and ears of the reader and therefore should be both relatable and fallible. Your bad guy should also be complex and have clear motives.

Make a list of suspects. Writing mysteries is like crafting puzzles, and the most vital piece of the puzzle is typically the criminal’s identity. A great mystery will introduce several potential suspects over the course of the narrative. In fact, many of the best mystery tales allow the reader to meet the actual culprit early on, giving them time to doubt their guilt. List your suspects and explore their possible motives before committing them to paper.

Lean into your locations. Whether your setting is a small town or New York City, use the natural atmosphere and attributes of the place to enhance action and intrigue. The contrast of dastardly deeds happening in unlikely spaces can enhance the sense that danger lurks around every corner. Moving between interesting locations where important plot points take place can make a mystery novel all the more gripping.

Let the reader play along. Good mystery writing shows instead of tells. You want to use descriptive writing to create scenes that allow your reader to explore and discover clues—even those that your main character might miss. Rather than explain what’s happening and why, keep the reader in the center of the action, invested in the stakes of the story like it’s real life. Give your readers a chance to put together the puzzle themselves.

Avoid using "get out of jail free" cards. While it’s important to push your characters to the edge and have them encounter obstacles that seem completely impassable, don’t then undermine all your hard work by introducing an implausible deux ex machina that miraculously saves the day. If you don’t resolve your roadblocks logically and in a way that’s consistent with your story, then you’ll lower the stakes for your characters and lose the ‘buy in’ of your reader.

Misdirect your reader. The mystery genre is filled with false clues, known as red herrings, that lead readers down the wrong path as they’re trying to suss out the truth. That misdirection is part of the fun, upping the suspense and building engagement as your audience runs into sudden twists and dead ends in tandem with your sleuth. The last thing you want is for them to figure it all out when there’s still more story to tell.

Rewrite, then rewrite some more. Most creative writing benefits from a second draft and that’s especially true in mystery writing—all the more so if this is your first novel. Remember how you reread those classics and bestsellers after you knew how they ended? Employ that same strategy with your new mystery. Examine your pacing and redistribute your clues to build to the stunning conclusion that you’ve already written.

The only rule is originality. Looking for some hard-and-fast do’s and don’ts? Bestselling author Anthony Horowitz won’t divulge. “If you ask me what are the do’s and don’ts in writing a whodunnit or a murder mystery? Quite simply, there aren’t any. Never constrain yourself. It is by doing the don'ts and not doing the do’s that you will write the completely original book for you – and find success.”

Examples. Ways a Villain could Justify Committing a Crime:

righting a prior wrong

revenge (the victim deserved to die)

vigilante justice (the criminal justice system didn’t work)

protecting a loved one

restoring order to the world

James Patterson's Tips:

Know your Genre. Do your reading and glean inspiration, then build on the story, modernize the setting, and breathe new life into a fresh plot with unique characters. Learn what’s been done and then ask yourself “what’s a new twist on this?”

Set Up Compelling Questions. If you’re going to keep your readers along for the ride, you have to give them something to grip on to. Identify a handful of questions that pose an intriguing dilemma. E.g., Who would do such a thing, and why?

Raise the Stakes. Then Raise Them Again. Another way to keep your reader intrigued and going along with you is to keep raising the stakes. First, set the foundation of the story with the hook. Then, add more details.

Keep the Reader Guessing. When James feels a story is lagging, he builds in misdirections or red herrings. Don’t be afraid of misdirections, he says, because they’re actually very true to real life. Most detective work, amateur or otherwise, inevitably leads to some dead ends or wrong alleys.

Maximize the Effect of the Reveal. The entirety of a mystery or suspense novel is leading up to the big reveal—but don’t reveal everything all at once, or too quickly. Instead, create a scene that lets you slowly “milk” the reveal. James suggests feeding out little clue after little clue or tidbit until voila, the mystery is solved. It’s not always easy to keep plotlines straight in your mind, so build out your outline by adding three or four bullet points of clues you can give your readers about how the book will end. Add these to existing chapters if you feel that they wouldn’t spoil the surprise.

Some Subgenres of Mystery

Cozy mysteries often take place in small towns, frequently featuring charming bakeries and handsome mayors. Though the crime is normally murder, there’s no gore, no severed heads in boxes, and no lotion in the basket. As a result, there are rarely any traumatized witnesses or family members in these murder mysteries — making cozies perfect for a gentle fireside read. Example: the Miss Marple series by Agatha Christie.

Police procedurals commonly center on a police investigation. They feature realistic law enforcement work, such as witness interrogation and forensic science, and require a great deal of research to convince seasoned readers of their authenticity. Example: Tana French’s Dublin Murder Squad series.

Noir detective novels. Most associate “noir” with black-and-white films of cynical gumshoes and femme fatales — but did you know that dark, gritty noir novels came first? Their flawed characters and complex plots are renowned for leaving readers in the grey. (Did the investigator do the right thing? Was the culprit really evil?) The crime may be solved by the end, but the mystery itself is rarely so open-and-shut. Example: The Postman Always Rings Twice by James M. Cain.

A suspense mystery is all about high stakes and unexpected twists — elements that make it nearly impossible to stop reading. The mystery builds throughout the narrative, clues are painstakingly planted to divulge just the right amount of information, and things are constantly edging towards a dramatic, often shocking climax. Example: Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 ⚜ Some related posts:

Writing Tips: A "Convincing" Mystery

Traps to Avoid When Managing your Clues

Detective or Crime Stories

Hope this helps with your writing & hope you have a lovely day/night yourself!

#anonymous #mystery #writing reference #writeblr #dark academia #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #fiction #novel #creative writing #literature #writing prompt #light academia #writing tips #writing advice #writing inspiration #writing ideas #writing resources

50 notes · View notes

zahri-melitor · 3 days ago

Text

So I've read the opening story of Tim Drake: Robin.

The opening issue is solid, highlighting a lot of Meghan Fitzmartin's skills as a writer. She picked up threads neatly from her earlier stories, showed her hand to the audience, and did do a fair amount of subtle character work. If I'd picked it up with no background knowledge of the fandom conversation about the title, I'd have been very excited for where it was going.

I liked the links back to how part of what prompted Tim to move out was Bruce being fussy over Tim having been shot in the throat in Batman #125. That felt realistic and a nice little link between titles.

As far as a story goes: I didn't mind it. Parts of it were very obvious, especially when you clued into the themes - if I'd actually been reading it as it came out and had a month between issues for things to soak in, I probably would have been tapping my toes over the reveal of who Moriarty was disguised as.

I would like to specifically dunk on both Meghan Fitzmartin and Moriarty for the detective novel writer selections, because...hmm. Kinda misogynistic there. Fitzmartin uses 6 writers for this, and 6 specific stories/franchises:-

Edgar Allen Poe – Murders in the Rue Morgue

Mark Twain – The Stolen White Elephant

Arthur Conan Doyle – Sherlock Holmes

Raymond Chandler - Goldfish

James Gelsey – Scooby Doo

Wilkie Collins – The Moonstone

What do you notice about this list, that I immediately noticed? They're all men. Who is an immediate name that comes to mind, who even had public domain stories as of 2022, who probably should be on a list like that and who also has incredible influence over the direction of the genre? Oh, I don't know, maybe Agatha Christie? (Also Dorothy L. Sayers is also right there and available, but skipping Christie?)

And once she'd built up this "it's all the detective stories" premise, Fitzmartin then went for a book code (cool!) from non-existent books (not cool). If you've just spent all this time glorying in how this is all related to Specific Classic Detective Stories, why not...use a real book code and refer to their actual stories? You've already done it for the plots! Commit to the bit!

Also I spent a good chunk of issue #4 staring at the page going "Carol Donovan? You mean Deb Donovan's judge daughter who recently appeared in Mariko Tamaki's 'Tec run? Tim, how are you missing something this straightforward? Also she's dead?" and then it never came to anything. Maybe do a quick check if anyone else has been using the name you just invented for the story.

"I even tried making a new costume for myself. It doesn't fit." - I did find it interesting that Fitzmartin was once again playing with the "is it time to move on" themes for Tim that were popping up around here in various conversations. Especially given she had Tim and Dick relitigate their conversation from Urban Legends #10 and similar themes in DC:YJ. It does suggest to me that she was working her way around to getting Tim into a new identity, but cancellation has once again left that in the 'not happening' basket.

In terms of the art: Riley Rossmo was the wrong pick for the title, but I do see the thought process that led into him getting the nod for the opening story, given the whole claymation villain set. It was very 2D animation style. I don't mind Rossmo (and interestingly he's developing a whole line up of detective stories he's done art for, given he's also had a Martian Manhunter book and got Wesley Dodds, he did one of the Batman/The Shadow crossovers...) but his highly malleable art style loses a lot of background detail or makes what is there harder to parse.

I did very much appreciate the way Rossmo drew Tim's detective work, though. I liked the technique for highlighting details and clues, and it actually very much reminded me of how some computer games present clues (including how it's done in Gotham Knights, in fact).

I know everyone has said this, but Bernard needs to develop a personality AND to commit to whether or not he knows Tim is Robin. Because sort of hinting that he knows, while Tim worries about hiding things from him, but not actually confirming either way is only really acceptable if you actually do build up to a big reveal moment where the whole drama has been paid off.

I did appreciate that MegFitz had clearly taken feedback and returned one of Bernard's two pre-existing personality traits (conspiracy theorist who thinks the Bats are urban legend cryptids), because one of the weaknesses of using Bernard, a side character with 6 preboot appearances, is that at lot of his existing personality was sketched in. He was a conspiracy theorist, and he desperately wanted to be popular but wasn't, so he presented himself as having a Cool Guy's Personality (see: 'your step-mom is hot'). Now, Meghan Fitzmartin wants us to read into that second trait as a facade that Bernard was putting up to deal with the fact he was gay and hiding it, probably even from himself, at the time. Which, fine, it's a perfectly reasonable reading of Bernard (and to her credit, MegFitz has Bernard spell it out a little on page in TD:R), but the problem is...you've just lost one of the two identifiable traits of 'Bernard' and it hasn't been replaced with anything else. And while 2004 in comics was still trying to hold onto the Urban Legends reading for the Bats to an extent (though it was failing), 2022 comics has so long since abandoned it that Bernard having kooky theories about Batman's connection to Mothman or whatever is very...why?

And because both of these pre-existing personality traits are under strain from the context, it really is sort of necessary to give Bernard something else about him for people to latch onto for his personality. And it doesn't really seem to be there yet (as of #6). It's the same complaint that people have about Jon/Jay and a whole host of other partners for recently out superheros: they're generically pleasant, supportive and bland, with about the depth of a mirror. Give me some of the toxic drama the 30 year old lesbians are allowed. Where is my breakup over custody fights with an ex and one of the two getting seduced by a vampire.

#z canon read throughs #tim drake: robin

40 notes · View notes

adalitas-coffeebreak-corner · 10 hours ago

Text

The twin swap pt. 1

Sirius Black x potter!fem!reader

In an attempt to prank your twin brother James, you suddently find yourself in a situation where you can no longer ignore your feelings for your brothers best friend.

Warnings: nothing really besides reader bodyswapping with James, tiny bit of swearing, and excessive yearning because we know the Potters are hopeless romantics. Hope you enjoy.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆♡☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

This had gone way too far,

Sirius standing in front of you half naked, his pyjamas pants hanging just low enough to see the outline of his-

"Are you alright Potter?" Your eyes snap up to meet his silvery dark ones, framed perfectly by his dark brows.

You feel hot, all the blood rushing to your head, your palms are sweaty and you almost don't notice the ringing sound in your ears, as you mutter out a, hopefully, coherent response of yes i'm grand.

Sirius smiles, apparently somewhat pleased with your answer, as he continues chatting with Remus and Peter, a lit cigarette hanging from his lips.

His soft, plump lips that you have been dreaming of touching since fourth year. You never really thought smoking was sexy until you saw how well Sirius pulled it off, which prompted many, many daydreams about you plucking that cigarette from his lips and just softly crane your neck to make your lips touch-

"Prongs, you're starting to freak me out mate"

Oh, right- you're currently stuck in your twinbrothers body, sitting on his bed in the boys dormitory.

Remus lowers his book from his place in the windowsill, giving you a strange glare as the adrenaline returns throughout your (james') body, making you once again stumble over your words.

"Sirius is right James, you look rather sickly and- are you blushing?" Peter chimes in sitting on his bed.

"Oh, no no, i'm okay, sorry carry on" you respond as you force yourself to lower your gaze, mentally kicking yourself. The boys share a glaze or two, but ultimately let it lie, starting back up their conversation.

This whole stupid idea started as a prank on your brother, but by some stupid twist of fate, or maybe even some strange twin telepathy, James had the exact same prank planned, which was showing up in the commonroom as you, using polyjuice potion.

The prank quickly extended to your friends, both of you wanting to see if any of them would notice your swap at dinner. Unfortunately nobody did, which in turn made you frown.

Are we really that similiar?

Can Sirius not even tell you two apart?

Needles to say, by the time you were ready to reveal your true identities, you had fallen too deep into your own prank, the boys almost dragging you up to the dorm, you just barely had time to exchange a panicked glance with James, who was in a similar situation with Lily, Marlene and Mary.

Now you just have to act normal until the boys fall asleep, then go find James.

Thats simple enough, right?

You are so lost in thought you honestly don't notice your eyes connecting with Sirius' for the third time in the span of fifteen minutes. But by the time you do notice, its too late and he's talking to you again, oh merlin you haven't heard what he said, and now the attention of all the boys are on you again.

What the hell is wrong with you? Just say something that James would say

Remus lets out a nervous chuckle, making you panic even more somehow.

Okay Potter, you can do this. Just make up some excuse to go wait this out in the bathroom.

Deep breath and hit them with a totally normal thing Jamie would say.

"I'm gonna go, bathroom, you know.. penis"

Shit

Sirius and Peter look equally perplexed and poor Rem looks absolutely horrified, as their wide eyes follow your ungraceful attempt to flee towards the bathroom, trying your best at manoeuvring your longer limps, and finally locking yourself away.

As soon as you hear the lock click, you slide down the door putting your head in your hands. You sincerly hope James is doing way better at pretending to be you, even though you doubt it, seeing as Lily is gonna be there.

You sigh deeply, muttering quiet curses at yourself, debating whether or not you should make a run for it, or stay locked in here until the potion subsides.

"James, talk to us please"

Sirius' voice startles you, making you shoot up from your position on the floor, almost knocking your head against the celling, letting out a yelp.

Is James really this tall?

"Prongs, if you need someone to talk to you know we're right here mate" Remus agknowledge sympathetically, causing you to feel a little guilty, making a mental note to buy him extra chocolate at Honeydukes, next time you make the trip. That is, if you don't die from embarrassment in this tile covered cage of shame.

"Even if it's, erh, penis related" Peter announced, earning a light smack from Sirius.

It occurred to you that you need to face the boys again, in order to get ahold of James, so you sigh and relent, shutting your eyes tight.

Might as well tell them how you really feel.

"Nothing is really going according to plan" you chuckle speaking up again, more somberly this time.

"I feel this suffocating pressure just to push everything down and lock it away, because there is no way Si- she will reciprocate my feelings, you know, erhm Lily. I thought I could ignore it, but for some reason I can't seem to." You trailed off, opening your eyes when you were meet with a few seconds of silence.

Immediately you're wondering if you went too real with it, do boys even talk to each other like that? Did they notice your slip up?

But on the other hand, it feels natural to talk with them like this. Since first year Remus, Sirius and Peter has always been your brothers friends first, yours second. He's more or less the glue keeping them together, and you're just his sister, someone they tolerate because of James.

Which ofcourse makes your infatuation with Sirius quite difficult.

Who would want to date their best mates sister? Not even mentioning the fact that James will have a fit, if he ever finds out just how much in love with Sirius you are.

For merlins sake.

Against your better judgement, you open the wooden door, awaiting their reactions, half expecting them to mock you.

Immediately you're tackled by Sirius who's pulling you into a hug, which is so comforting, and oh god he's still shirtless.

"Thank you for sharing that" Remus extends his hand to your shoulder offering you a gloomy smile.

A few seconds later Sirius releases you from his grip, you grimace slightly finding that you are missing his warmth already.

"Let's just go to sleep, I'll feel better in the morning" you whisper, closing the door behind you. The boys nodd, silently agreeing.

_____________________

You've been painfully awake for about an hour now, wanting to be completely sure the boys are fast asleep before you sneak out.

The floor is cold beneath your feet, tiptoeing to freedom, the darkness almost hindering you in finding the handle. A few seconds later you desend down the stairs victorius, relief rushing over you, as you spot James (or rather youself) sitting on the couch.

"Where have you been?" James hisses as soon as you plop down next to him.

"Relax, I couldn't get away until now" you explain.

"This was a very bad idea" James groans, looking rather adorable in his current position with his arms crossed.

"Tell me about it" you agree running your hand over your face, after handing him his glasses back as he mutters a quiet thank you.

You both sit in silence for a bit, until you ask him how his evening went. The commonroom is dimly lit by the orange and yellow nuances from the fireplace, the warmth offering you both much needed comfort.

"Well, not ideal" James hesitated.

"Or rather it was going really well until Lily went to change into her pyjamas" He covered his face, blushing at the memory.

"James Fleamont Potter" Shock overtaking your features, but before you could scold him, he interrups you.

"Don't worry, I didn't see anything"

"Good"

"because I fainted"

"YOU WHAT"

"Lower your voice" he snaps back, slumping his shoulders, looking around the empty commonroom wearily.

"It's fine, I played it off as a period thing"

At this point you're flabbergasted, not even wanting to agknowledge your twins basic lack of understanding about female anatomy, so you let it go. You'll have to deal with this in the morning...

#remus lupin #sirius black #the marauders #harry potter #sirius black x reader #marauders fanfiction #peter pettigrew #self insert #james potter #potter!reader

50 notes · View notes

theotheronedotorg · 1 day ago

Text

Hello you beautiful, beautiful people! I need a little help hunting down a book on AO3, and I thought, what better way to find a book you can't name than going to Tumblr and asking the people there.

So, this book is a Justice League-type book. It's about Captain Marvel getting zapped with a kind of laser that traps him in his mind. The League has to go into his head to help him, and Solomon takes this opportunity to show the League his memories, pretty much revealing Captain Marvel's identity to the League.

If you could help me find it, I'll follow you here and give you a big kiss. Only if that is what is acceptable to your standards, that is.

#Billy Batson #Captain Marvel #DC #DC Comics #Solomon #Greek Gods #Justice League #Justice League finds out who Marvel is #I will love you forever if you can help me out #If you can't #I'll still love you

41 notes · View notes

spookberry · 2 days ago

Text

Izuru Kamukura's design is interesting to me cuz like what was the point of having all that hair.

I feel like usually the metaphor in design would be to make the hair shorter. To signify the way hes stripped of identity and remade. But they go the opposite route. Izuru's hair is long and all over the place.

Also with an in world perspective, why would the people who created him give him/let him have long hair like that. What was the motive there?

Not that its a design that says nothing about him or is out of place either. I think it actually says a LOT about Izuru. The lack of styling reveals a disinterest in his appearance to some degree, or maybe a lack of identity. He doesnt even bother to push it out of his face, just sorta leaves it. He could've just as easily cut it all off though, seems like itd get in the way or be more of a hassle to worry about, and hes not one for hassles either. Having long hair involves caring for it to some degree thats just a fact.

Also cutting it all off after everything, I get its symbolic of Hajime and whatever, But I cant help but think it wouldve been more interesting to go an alternative route. Finding some kind of inbetween, not quite Hajime anymore but certainly not Izuru either. Ya know? I feel like that be more in line with the point. Not going back to the past, but looking towards the future and whatever that means.

#sorry if this doesnt make any sense #im just kinda rambling #izuru kamukura #danganronpa #on a smaller scale his suit too is interesting #its a Suit which is pretty stuffy but it not a suit with personality #but hey hajime's choice of casual wear is also a button up and a tie so #maybe that IS a personal choice

28 notes · View notes

toomanyf4ndoms7 · 14 hours ago

Text

This is genuinely such a great scene because this version of the Joker throughout the entire animated universe has been portrayed above all else as a narcissist who thrives on attention, being taken as a threat that Batman drives himself batty to face down.

So, what does he do when this punk teenager from a completely different type of Gotham, who fights down tougher people than him with superpowers, and is a chronic joker and quip machine, doesn’t take him seriously?

He freaks out. Gets angry. This punk wannabe Batman is beating him in ways that no other hero has even tried. And Terry is amazing at it. “I like to talk too” and in that moment, the entire battle shifts, Terry starts laughing.

Batman. Starts laughing at the Joker, making fun of him and calling him pathetic. (A call back to an earlier scene where Joker does the same to Batman after torturing Tim and revealing that he knows his secret identity as “A little boy in a play suit, crying for mommy and daddy!”

And at the end, when Terry is pinned, Joker rips off his mask and starts to choke him, his expression is even more crazed than usual, eyes wide, near euphoric and the prospect of choking this one out.

“C’mon, McGinnis! Laugh it up now, you miserable little punk, laugh! I can’t hear you!”

“Ha. Ha.”

Batman gets the last laugh on The Joker. The ‘big rivalry’ ends with Joker dismantled and humiliated.

And I think it’s neat.

@spoilerqlert

@helenababs

#revelations and stupidity #dcau #rambling about comics #...or something?#dc comics

21 notes · View notes

moonstruck-poet · 2 days ago

Text

Survive pt. 2

Pairing - Carlos Sainz x wife!reader

Summary - Because of your job as a crime officer, a particularly dangerous mission has both you and your husband on the edge.

Warnings - blood, kidnapping, violence, torture, crying.

The drive to the target site was spent in nothing but silence. Your team of four settled in a car, all geared up with bulletproof vests, guns in your holsters and minds racing continuously.

Everybody's heart had a different rhythm to the other. Yours, quite surprisingly had a steady thump, Jess had started tapping her foot again which indicated to her irregular breathing, while the other two boys seemed as if they were going through all the seven stages of grief at once.

Nobody batted an eye when the driver informed them that they'll reach their destination in about five minutes. All just wordlessly pulling out their phones to give their loved ones a final text before departing.

You pulled out Carlos' contact, your fingers doing a little dance as you contemplated on what to write.

Hello love, will start work soon enough, thought of letting you know.

Te quiero mucho, mi vida. Síempre. Y te prometo que te veré pronto, amor <3

You exhaled deeply before pocketing your phone and looking at your teammates who were still messaging their family and you felt a tug at your heart. You clenched your jaw, internally making a promise to bring every one of these three people back home.

"Ready?" You questioned once the car had halted at the decided place, a quick scan of the area was done before you opened the door, waiting for them.

"Always boss," Chris, the baby of the group gave you a lopsided smile, ruffling his hair and stretching out his arms quickly.

"In we go then guys," you finally muttered, sending a quick prayer to the deity above to watch over them, to let your plan be a success.

As was decided, Elijah and you split from the rest, walking side by side and taking the back entrance to the creepy old hotel while they entered from the front side.

There was absolutely no security which was weird considering that there were atleast twenty boys and girls trapped and held captive. The pair of you moved smoothly onto stage 2, entering the first floor without so much of a disturbance.

"Was this supposed to be this easy?" The Brit whispered, eyes still alert as he held the gun tightly.

"Definitely not," you answered back, feeling some unease crawling up your throat. Suddenly you were grabbed and pulled into a corner, your eyes widening to see Elijah put a finger on his lips and point down the hallway where a door had just opened.

The two of you listened in rapt silence as a burly man stepped out, adorned in lavish jewelleries which confirmed his identity of the leader behind this illegal racket.

He was walking away, blabbering to someone on his phone angrily and you jumped as the door slammed shut from the inside.

Waiting for a few seconds, Elijah let out a breath, stepping away slightly. "Well our intel wasn't wrong then".

You nodded, Jess' voice suddenly interrupted in your ear piece that they had completed the first three stages which were getting in safely, climbing all the way up and locating the rooms where the children were kept.

"Copy that, good job," you muttered, glad that this was falling into place.

"Where should we start first then?" He asked. "Jess and Chris have got the front wing covered. We should probably start evacuation from here itself before moving up".

"I agree, I've also let Stephen know that stage 2 is in motion. He has dispatched the evac forces already".

Saying so, the two of you jogged towards one of the doors, praying with all your might that your information is correct to the dot, you swiped the master key card and it clicked open.

Barely breathing you pushed it with one hand, Elijah covering you from behind while also keeping an eye on the hallway. The door creaked loudly as it slowly swung open, revealing two girls and three boys, all of whom looked to be about nine years of age.

"Jesus," Elijah whispered at the sight of those terrified souls who immediately cowered upon seeing the pistols pointed. Their hands out in front of them, shielding their body as best as they could.

"Please don't be scared," you said, lowering down the gun and trying to give them a smile. "We're- we're from the police, we're gonna get you out of here," you leaned down, hoping to console them.

"We're here to help, buddy," he did a better job at smiling warmly, gently extending his hand forward, waiting for them to trust him. "I promise that you're going home soon".

"Home?" A girl with jet black hair and gorgeous green eyes stuttered. Her build was the smallest out of all, knees pressed against her chest as she shivered and your heart chipped a little.

"Yes, love. I promise," you nodded eagerly, sitting on your toes now. "I need you all to quietly follow Elijah here, he's going to get you downstairs and out. Can you all do that for me?"

"Yes!" They immediately replied, a few grins seen on their previously detached faces making both of you feel hopeful.

"Be safe, Eli," you murmured, ushering them out gently and not letting them out of sight for a second.

He could only nod, his throat tight as he had one arm around the tiny children while the other held onto his gun, ready to kill absolutely anyone that dared to harm a hair on their heads.

You did your job of escorting them to the staircase and amidst your run to the second floor you heard your security department say that the first batch had been rescued without a hitch.

That gave you a small boost of confidence as you began opening yet another door, knowing that there would be at the very least two girls in there. A small smile was already present on your face as you swiped the card and pushed it slightly, only to have it slip from your grip.

The room was empty, there was not one child to be seen. Your eyebrows furrowed as you thoroughly scanned every inch, how on earth could the intel possibly be wrong? The intelligence sector had been rigorously watching every move from the cctv cameras that had been infiltrated. How could their information be wrong when they were monitoring everything that happened-

Unless, you stilled in place, not being able to move as the worst possibility came floating in your brain. Unless you were being made to see these things, because somehow they knew about the intrusion.

The sudden creak of the door had the hair on your arm standing up as you turned swiftly, your heart in your throat at seeing no one there. You didn't waste another minute before getting out of the room and hiding yourself in a safe space to communicate with your team.

"Jess? Status?"

Her response came after about twenty seconds, until which your hands had started sweating as you pondered over the situation.

"Have successfully evacuated three, one boy and two girls. So that makes a total of eight out of twenty".

"Okay, good good, that's good," you repeated, trying to convince yourself. That's when Elijah appeared, breaking you out of your trance and you sighed in relief on seeing him unharmed.

"Oh thank goodness," you got up, still keeping your eyes trained on the hallway. "I think something's wrong, Elijah".

His neck snapped towards you, "What happened?" You recounted the incident to him and he pressed his lips together. "Maybe- maybe it was a mistake on our part," he said, but you could see the uncertainty in his eyes. Both of you knew there was actually no way that such a mistake could happen, but neither was willing to voice out the fears.

"Let's just- let's just look into the others," you said, and after his agreement the two of you sped across, almost reaching the intended door when a scream which suspiciously sounded like a little girl's was heard, loud and haunting.

You halted immediately, looking at each other for a brief second before rushing towards the source, praying with all your might for the situation to not be overly difficult.

"Wait!" You grabbed his arm, forcing him to slow down.

"What?!" He answered, panting slightly.

"We can't go down together, Elijah! There can be a slight possibility that they were expecting us and we're just walking into a trap! You need to keep on searching for the rest, maybe take help from Jess and Chris and atleast bring them to safety".

He considered your statement but appeared unconvinced, "How can I just let you go there all by yourself! You know full well that it's not safe!"

"It's okay," you said hurriedly, realising that you're probably losing time. "I'll be fine just go and gather the rest, and hurry up. I have a very bad feeling about this".

"Please stay safe," he squeezed your hand before rushing up the stairs, giving you a final nod before you two parted ways.

Similarly you rushed towards the scream, not trying to be reckless as you navigated safely through the lobby, both of your hands gripping your gun.

Just as you were going to step out from your hiding spot, you heard Chris' small shout in your ear, a yell from Jess followed quickly and your heart filled with dread with each step you took.

Just as you put a foot outside, your gun was knocked out from your hands and you were slammed down on the floor. A loud groan escaped your lips as you looked at a man smirking, standing above you.

"You people think you're always smarter than us? But we're always a step ahead," he hissed before pulling his leg back and kicking your side. You doubled over in pain before spotting the knife in his hand and barely managing to roll away from his downwards strike.

You got up, stumbling a little as he walked closer. You stayed, waiting until the last second before grabbing his arm and spinning him around while simultaneously hooking your leg around his and dropping him to the floor. Your knee pressed against his back as you twisted his arms, earning a satisfactory scream tear from his lungs. His hands were being turned harshly and a clean crack was heard, signalling the breaking of his wrist.

Swiftly you grabbed the gun lying nearby and shot him on the back of his head, twice just to be sure. You barely had time to take a proper breath before another man had grabbed your waist, his grip tightening as you struggled, finding your footing and ensuring a swift back kick on his shins while your head hit him hard on his nose.

You winced as he was forced to distance himself, your hand rubbing the back of your skull as you noticed the gun in his hand.

"Fuck," was all you could utter as he shot, aiming for your chest and you swerved away, gasping as the bullet buried itself in the sleeve of your arm. Luckily for you, the bulletproof vest was of the best quality.

"Surrender," he growled in anger, clearly not expecting a woman to fight so much.

"You wish," you panted, palms resting on your knees but your eyes were trained on him. Suddenly you rushed forward, knocking the gun out of his hand but he had somehow anticipated it, almost waiting for you to make the first move.

He grinned in triumph after taking hold of your arms and then pressing your back against his chest, the cold metal of the pistol now touching your temporal bone.

You fell silent, hands rising up instinctively as you tried to conserve your energy. Having been in this situation before, you didn't necessarily feel scared, but your heart pumped rapidly, providing you with excess blood as you tried to find a way out.

"Boss?" Chris' voice was heard in your ear and you gulped, not daring to answer as there was a possibility of them not knowing exactly how many members accompanied you.

The next was Elijah, he kept on chanting your name and you heard his panic increase with every repetition. You were merely glad to know that they were alive.

The man holding you had clearly underestimated your strength because he lowered his gun, though maintained a tight around your neck. His other hand fumbled to search for a walkie talkie perhaps, and that was exactly the moment you were waiting for. You grasped the single arm still kept around you and pushed with all of your force, moving it away from your body and swinging him around, releasing at the right time and as expected his body went flying in the wall. The gun was out of your holster and another two bullets were fired successively.

He died within no time, the shots having penetrated his heart twice. But you did not utter a word as you looked at your surroundings, your hands shaking slightly but your feet moved on their own accord, unlocking door after door in search of more kids.

On opening the last one you found a girl, possibly seven years of age sitting on the floor, trembling terribly and you knew she must've heard the devastating sound of gunshots.

"Please don't be afraid," you whispered. And for some reason your throat started burning with an intensity that you had never felt before. Your lower lip wobbled as your emotions went haywire, but you, a master of your training took a deep breath and restricted them cleanly.

"I'm here to take you home," you tried again, cautiously inching closer to the terrified child. Your slightly bloody appearance didn't make your task much easier too.

"You'll take me back to my mummy and daddy?" Tears had started flowing down her pale cheeks as she watched you, a tiny glimmer of hope in her deep brown eyes, and for the second time in just a matter of two hours, an invisible knife chipped off another small piece from your heart.

Hearing her voice brought another thought to your mind, that

"I will," you nodded desperately, swallowing down the huge lump as you opened your arms for her, watching her hesitate for a second before she lunged forward, throwing her fragile body into the security of your arms as she sobbed, her small shoulders moving as she cried and cried.

"Shush darling," you whispered, your voice sounding broken. "I'm going to get you away, you're gonna be home in no time".

"You- You promise?" She stammered, pulling away and looking straight at you. Innocence met responsibility and you wiped her stained face.

"I promise, Anna," you noticed her name on the bracelet and the smile that instantly lit up her face brought a new wave of sadness inside you. This time she embraced you with giddiness, a small laugh escaping her.

You quickly clasped her hand tightly in yours, shielding her body properly and navigating safely to the stairway. You backed off into a corner, giving a long look around before bringing a hand to your earpiece.

"Sophie? Come in".

Her voice responded not even a second later and you rapidly fired instructions, understanding that there was no way you could drop her off yourself, the risk being too high.

You felt a sudden grip on your thigh and looked down to see Anna burying her face in your stomach, fear lighting up inside her as she listened to your conversation.

You placed a warm hand on her shoulder and she looked up, "Where am I going?"

"You're going home, love. I promised you did I not? One of my friends is coming soon, and she'll take you back".

"But what about you?"

"I cannot come with you, darling. You know that there are other children too right?" You questioned gently and she nodded. "I have to help them too".

"But- But what if the bad people find me and lock me up again? I'm scared," her eyes had glossed over and you both turned to see a woman climbing up the stairs, making her quickly hide behind you, her arms hugging your legs.

"Soph," you walked slowly, keeping a hand on her shoulders and smiling slightly at your right hand. She was decked in clothes similar to yours, standing with slight confidence and a strong figure.

"Be very careful, no harm is to come towards her, at any cost," you ordered clearly and she nodded, shrugging off her serious exterior to a warm look as she beckoned Anna closer.

"Run along, love, there's your ride home," you ushered her towards Sophie and the child obeyed, though unwilling to leave you.

"Will I ever see you again?" She whispered, a tremble in her words as she faced you expectantly.

"I'll try my best to," you all but sighed, feeling your heart clench.

"Thank you," the little girl mumbled, fiddling with her fingers and shooting you a small smile before she was taken down the stairs and you watched, pressing your lips together, staying rooted for a minute before dragging your focus back to another pressing issue.

You began opening doors after doors, your hands quivering yet your feet being quite stable, moving on their own accord. There was no one to be seen on the entire floor and you came to a halt, panting slightly as you checked in with your team.

"Elijah?" You inquired, your heartbeat increasing again because it had been a long time since you had heard from any one of them.

"Oh hey I'm alive," came his slightly strained voice.

"What's wrong?" You shot back immediately, your foot tapping against the floor as anxiety started settling deep in your chest.

"Nothing just an incident. We ran into some unwelcome guests and unfortunately one of them jabbed a knife in my bicep".

"Jesus Elijah," you swore, massaging your temple. "What about the others?"

"They're all fine, a couple of bruises here and there but all breathing. How are you, boss?"

"I-" you trailed off, the words not coming your aid as you contemplating on how to describe. "I'm fine don't worry. Got another girl to safety".

"Oh yeah we got five boys down too. We scanned the entire front wing, there's nothing here that hasn't been taken care of. Let's head down to the basement just to be sure".

"Yeah I'll be there in five-"

You were cut off by a loud bang made by a rifle and you jumped, pressing yourself against a wall and ducking behind a corner.

"What was that?" Elijah asked urgently, clearly having heard the sound.

"Slight delay in plans, you go ahead and I'll make sure to join".

"Not so soon," the muscular guy spoke through gritted teeth, his hands handling the gun as he started taunting you. "Come out you pathetic woman. Imagine having the guts to infiltrate a building only to be left all alone to die".

"Cannot relate I suppose," a new voice spoke and you felt dread rising in your lungs. There was no way that you could handle these armed men right now. Well you could but the aftermath would be bad.

"You cannot escape now," one of them laughed sinisterly, a malicious smirk on his face as you stepped out from your spot, arms once again raised in surrender.

"Look at you," he spoke, throwing the rifle to his friend and walked closer. "Shame that I have orders to kill an exquisite beauty," he said, chuckling and casually on the way to place his hands on your waist but you snapped, holding both arms and twisting them directly behind, making the said person groan loudly and you heard the unmistakable click of the rifle being loaded.

"It's okay Jer," he grinned, massaging his shoulders as you once again displayed no harm. "A feisty little thing, aren't you?"

You simply glared harshly, your stance radiating power a startling contrast to your palms raised parallel to your head.

"Ooh the beauty is married too huh?" The other man, Jer gestured towards the ring adorning your finger.

"Oh? Who's the lucky guy... missus?"

Rather abruptly, Jer had locked your arms and pressed you against him, making sure to block any leg movements too. "This is gonna make it all the more fun," he sighed before inhaling deeply, nuzzling his nose in your neck as you wordlessly struggled.

The second man who had been watching the interaction stepped inches away from you, his eyes raking your figure up and down, his expression the epitome of sin. He licked his lips slightly and a strange shiver travelled down your spine, a foreign fear began creeping up.

He leaned closer, on the verge of brushing his lips on your own but you threw your head forward, hitting him squarely on his nose and almost succeeding in breaking it.

"You fucking bitch-" was the only warning you had before he removed a blade, not even thinking twice as he made a strike on your neck.

A small yell was heard as you felt the blood slowly oozing down. It wasn't a deep cut by any means, but it was long as hell. The motherfucker had made sure to inflict maximum pain.

He then sliced the sleeve of your vest, effectively cutting past the shirt underneath and digging into your skin. This time you didn't even hiss, biting your tongue and focusing on breathing properly.

Your eyes were closed for a mere few seconds, but that was all it took for him to go find a fucking iron rod from god knows where. You looked at him warily, not bothering to say anything because you knew it was inevitable.

And how right you were.

The first blow came and landed on your legs, knocking you off your feet as you dropped down, grabbing your calf and curling into a ball, your face the definition of pain. You falling down was apparently what he wanted because he began hitting you like a madman. The second hit was aimed at your back, another one on your stomach, the next one on the quadricep muscles as you groaned with every shot.

The pain strangely didn't last long probably because you were extremely high on adrenaline.

And as if literally beating you to death wasn't enough, he opened the room behind and your focus was diverted, pulse racing as he held a young boy hostage, pressing the blade against his jugular.

"Don't touch him," you rasped, your face contorting in pain as Jer made a cut on your body, this time beneath your neck, right atop your clavicle.

"Then you better give us what we want, sweetheart," he threatened, not sparing the shaking boy any amount of pity.

You looked at the boy, his eyes wide as tears kept streaming down his cheeks. Your heart ached with his every struggle and you looked wildly at his captor, almost burning holes with your stare.

"We're right behind you, cap," Chris' voice was soft in your ears and you almost cried in relief. God bless their impeccable timing.

What happened next was a literal blur of events. Your teammates had gloriously interrupted the capture and you used the distraction caused to haul the trapped boy in your arms, stepping backward to safety as you caught the gun thrown towards you. But the others had easily managed to overpower the two men and the criminals laid dead at your feet.

"Jesus Christ, love," Jess spoke and cupped your face, helping you sit straighter as she looked at your shirt being smeared in blood. The number of bruises which she guessed had definitely started turning black and blue.

"Oh god are you alright?" Elijah hurried over and knelt down in front of you, gently moving your legs to keep them straight.

"I'm fine you lot," you said heavily, resting your head back against the wall as you breathed. "You don't look much better yourselves".

They just shrugged, having got over their bodies stained with dried blood, some scratches here and there, bruises littering their skin. Chris even had a bullet half wedged in his arm that had thankfully not run deep.

The boy sitting beside you had his face buried in your arm the entire time, holding your hand as if it was the only thing keeping him alive.

"Hey buddy," Elijah whispered softly and all of you turned towards him, watching as he cautiously lifted his head to look at everyone.

"Hi," he replied, shortly.

"Are you hurt?" Chris asked, taking out the first aid kid from his backpack and applying some cream on a small bruise on the side of his head.

"You sure we're done?" You asked Jess, a wave of exertion falling over you as you struggled to stand up straight, Elijah immediately leaning forward to your rescue.

"Yep, our tech team confirmed it. We also found a hidden camera, one that hadn't been infiltrated by us. That's probably how they knew our whereabouts so quickly".

You nodded, wincing as you stood on your feet. Feeling a little proud as you looked at your team having managed to go through hell and still be alive and breathing.

"Thank you," you smiled softly, "All of you".

"Thank you cap'n," Chris grinned, embracing you in his special bear hug and you complied, feeling only comfort as pain became secondary.

"Let's go then?" Elijah questioned carrying the young boy in his arms, his lips twitching slightly too and you agreed.

====================================

"Oh god," was all Stephen could utter when you sauntered into your building, all four of you bloody, with your own unique bruises here and there.

"Hey there," Chris smirked and the rest followed, earning a disbelieving shaking of head from your dear boss.

"I- You know what just let's get you all patched up," he muttered, fussing over everyone like a father as the medical team rushed in.

"We're okay," Elijah smiled, rolling up his sleeves to reveal the various bruises to which he raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Fine my foot," he grumbled, assisting the nurses in any way that he could.

"What matters though is that the mission was accomplished," Jess interjected with a huge grin as though her shin did not just have a massive injury that was currently getting cleaned.

"Anything you'd like to add?" He huffed, turning towards you which quickly faded as he saw your pale face. "Hey what's wrong?"

At his address everyone sharply turned their necks towards you, their smiles falling on seeing your eyes becoming hazy.

"She's just lost a lot of blood," the nurses informed. "The cuts though not being deep were too many in number, thus resulting in dizziness. Don't worry, sir, she'll be completely fine".

"You're not getting rid of me that soon, Cap," your low voice was heard, slightly croaky in nature.

"I wouldn't have it the other way, kid," he answered, taking your hand and squeezing it gently. "I can't thank you enough".

You chuckled a little, swallowing through your extremely dry throat and opening your eyes, "It wasn't me alone. I would've died had it not been for those three".

"Stop," Elijah cut you off, clenching his jaw at the thought of you dying. He had idolised you, looked up to you since his trainee days. "Don't say that".

"You know it's the truth, Eli".

He shook his head, "What matters is that we're all here, alive".

"God I'm so relieved," Chris let out a shaky breath and was hugged by Jess who nodded sympathetically, holding the cross around her neck in reverence.

"I can't wait to get back home," she murmured, sighing as her wounds had been bandaged up.

Home. The word was enough to snap your eyes open. Home. You wanted to go home.. right now.

You looked down at your bruised body and saw that most of the wounds had been taken care of, you downed some painkillers given and immediately swung to your feet, ignoring the slight wave of dizziness.

"Woah there soldier, easy now," Stephen said, worry etched on his face.

"I need to call my husband-" you started, trying to control your once again racing heart. "Please- I- Can I call him?"

"Hey," he said, a strange look on his face as he looked at you. "Of course you can, but you need to calm yourself down first yeah? Breathe with me now".

You followed his actions, inhaling and exhaling rhythmically. Soon enough you were back to normal again and you slumped down in the chair, holding your head in your hands.

"Give your body time to heal," Jess frowned, walking over to run your shoulders as you heaved deeply and gulped before nodding.

"I'll just talk to him quickly, we'll- then we'll go through the remaining procedures," you couldn't forget your duty in the face of emotions. That wasn't what you had trained for.

"Take all the time you need," he reassured. "All of you please, go on have a chat".

You didn't need to be told twice as you walked to your cabin, sitting in the chair and pulling out your phone after a total of 8 hours. It had been utterly and completely exhausting.

You dialled his number, holding your breath and your foot began tapping against the floor. It rang, once, twice, thrice and-

"Oh darling," came your husband's voice, soft and just how you remembered. And it didn't take much for your eyes to well up with tears again as you closed them, keeping them at bay. Just focusing your entire being on his voice, because a few hours earlier, you weren't so sure that you'd be able to hear him again.

"Carlos," you whispered, your lip wobbling dangerously as you spoke. "I'm here- I'm back here we succeeded".

"Well done, my love," you could hear his voice shaking too. "I'm so so proud of you- and I just-" he cut himself off and your nose scrunched up as you gritted your teeth.

"Come back home, amor," he urged you, gripping his phone tightly as his very soul longed to simply hold his wife, his other half again.

"I will," you nodded frantically though you knew he couldn't see it. "I've only got some last minute things to do I promise I'll be home as quickly as I can".

"Te estoy esperando, cariño..."

"Yo también, mi vida... Pronto estaré allí, te quiero".

You hung up the phone with a shaky smile, holding the screen close to your chest. The photo for his contact tugging at your heartstring as you gingerly got up, now feeling the ache of every blow made on you but you still walked.

"Let's get this done with," you addressed the team who were already present. "And get back home to our family".

====================================

I swear I didn't plan for this part to get so big, I was gonna end it here itself but then it would've extended quite a lot so part 3 now??

Again thank you so much for reading<33 My requests are of course open.

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz 55 #carlos sainz ff #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x reader ff #carlos sainz x wife reader #carlos sainz wife imagine #f1 ff #ferrari

39 notes · View notes