#Does he have his older memories? idk maybe
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Arlecchino’s story quest just revealed how old Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet are. (Spoiler kinda)
Tl;Dr: late 20s
“I wish Genshin would give us solid numbers for character ages!” Sometimes they do. And those numbers give us ages of other characters too, if you pay attention. And yeah, I know the Genshin community doesn’t like to read, but you don’t even have to do much reading for this.
And let me preface this. When you go through this much work to “justify” characters being adults some people will say it’s just “an excuse to sexualize minors”. No. This isn’t even about that.
This is about me being absolutely sick and tired with the teenagers with careers trope.
First of all, what we know:
Childe is the YOUNGEST of the Fatui Harbingers.
Childe woke up the whale when he was 14 years old, and that was 20 years ago. He is 34 years old.
Arlecchino became the Knave at 17 years old.
The Hearth siblings came to the house within a few months of Arlecchino gaining control.
Lyney and Lynette met a magician named Caesar who over 10 days, helped them hone their stage magic skills
Caesar died 10 years ago.
Toddlers can’t do street magic.
Honestly the last couple of points aren’t even needed, but they’re helpful to solidify this number. You’ll see.
Let’s do some basic Arlecchino math first.
Again, she’s canonically older than 34, but if you want her and the siblings to be as young as absolutely possible, we can start there. (Maybe she’s a few months older than Childe. Idk)
34-17=17
Absolute bare minimum, Arlecchino has been the knave, and the siblings have been in the house for 17 years.
And quite frankly, I don’t think the “kids” were embryos when they joined.
But now that we have a minimum, let’s get a maximum to cover our bases. I’m going to use the serial disappearances as a marker here, because given what we know about her she would definitely look into that sort of thing. So she can’t be much older than 37.
So, when did the siblings join the house?
First of all, let’s get a few facts from earlier involved. Cesar died 10 years ago. That means he died while they had already been in the house for 7-10 years (depending on Arlecchino’s age.)
And a widely overlooked fact that personally I think needs to be taken into account more often, is that TODDLERS CANT DO STREET MAGIC.
But I get it, this is an anime game. And for some crazy reason some fans are convinced that characters should be as young as they can possibly be.
So let’s be just, the most generous that I could possibly be here and say those kids right there are 6 years old (anime 6 year olds don’t act like real 6 year olds so I’ll give you that), and it’s been an EVENTFUL couple of months worth of mastering street magic, trauma, and joining the House of the Hearth.
6+7=13 13+10=23
So the absolute bare minimum you are being silly at this point age for the siblings is 23, and depending on how old you think Arlecchino is, up to 26.
Personally, I feel like Freminet can help us out here, but we’ll have to apply just a teensy tiny bit of real world logic if we want to get anywhere. So,
How old was Freminet when he was sent to the house?
Freminet was very close with his mother, he was incredibly skilled at fixing and building things, to the point where he would help bring in money for the family for a few years before he was dropped off at the house with the old Knave where he’d notice other children with depression who he’d seen kill themselves.
Now I ask you, does that sound like a toddler? If you’re going to look me in my eyes and try saying he was sent to the house at 5 or 6, when the earliest of memories are being DEVELOPED, you’re not just silly, you are high. There’s really only so much disbelief I can suspend here.
Let’s be generous and say he was 8 years old. You can still have your over developed anime 6 year old, but at least it gives a few years for him to have been tinkering and making happy little memories before the trauma.
Again, using the youngest possible Arlecchino age,
8+17=25
So baby brother Freminet is bare minimum 25 years old.
In conclusion, let’s use those concrete numbers here to make an age range for the House of Hearth siblings. (I could absolutely give you my personal head canon timeline, yes. Will I? Maybe if you ask nice. But this is about cold hard numbers)
You’re absolutely fucking kidding yourself here ages: 22 for Freminet and 23 for the twins.
Low end: 25 for Freminet and 26 for the twins.
Reasonable maximum (the oldest I think they could be in the flashback is 13) 32 for Freminet and 33 for the twins!!
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Same As The Day I Lost You
I...
This came to me as I'm making dinner so I'll be quick.
What if we mix deaged Danny and twin/older sibling (either one works) Damian, AND he gets tossed to his sibling in a last minute escape.
Like what if he was fighting Vlad who was doing his whole "denounce your father and join me as my son Daniel!" Thing while in the Zone and knocks Danny into something that's floating in the Zone with the ability to deage or was hit by a new Fenton or Plasmius invention while fighting in town that accidentally deages him.
Danny, who in this was adopted, gets put back to the age of six. The same age he had been found by Jazz in a 'haunted' forest Jack and Maddie were visiting/investigating while also using that time as a family vacation. (They were shocked to see a little boy with a stab wound bleeding out and rushed him to the nearby town, almost completely forgetting about the glowing green tiny puddle they found nearby and bagged most of it as evidence when they heard Jazz's scream of terror over finding the hurt little boy)
The sudden revert into that traumatized age, along with the child response to a fight or flight scenario, and add Danny's deepest need/wish to be protected his child fogged mind wishes to go to the one person who always made him feel safe.
His twin/older brother.
Just as quick as it was with Danny being turned into a child, his ghost powers ripped open a portal and sent Danny to the person he wants to be with...
Only he didn't know that right at that moment his seventeen year old twin/older brother is currently fighting the League with his family's help (his mother was trying to convince him to return to the League and be it's heir) in Nanda Parbat (the very place Damian lost the last/only person he knew loved him without any strings attached.)
So imagine everyone's face when a portal opened up, some muttering its a new pit being formed before them or something, and crawling out of it is a very scared and confused six year old Danny.
#danny phantom dc#danny fenton#danny phantom#dp x dc#crossover#dc x dp crossover#No one will be ready for child Danny#Does he have his older memories? idk maybe#maybe his six year old mind from the sudden deage is at front rn or something#Damian almost feral/angry screams at his mother for 'daring to try to replace Danyal with a cheap clone'#only to see the look on her face and knows this wasn't planned#his little brother who he secretly watched as his mother tried to go behind grandfather's back to heal only for the pit to greedily keep#was brought back by the pits not looking a day over the age he lost him#What happened was Danny disobeyed an order from Ra's and was punished for it#he almost died for it and Talia wanted very badly to keep him because he looked so much like her beloved and she couldn't bare losing that#Only the pits kept Danyal instead of bringing him back#or rather under the guide of a certain entity he was brought to the forest the Fenton's were visiting#Damian scoops Danyal up when he see's the look in his mother's eyes shift from shock to calculating greed/love#he refuses to leave his brother in the hands of the League or his mother#he loves her despite everything but knows Danyal would never truly survive their mother's version of 'love' especially in the League#Also Damian may have...refused/forgotten to tell the others about Danyal#so cue them being horrifically confused#The pure sick feeling and deep seeded panic Bruce feels when he see's the mini version of himself but with hints of Talia hits hard#blue rambles
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without you, part 2
matt murdock x f!reader
A/N: hey the title rhymes. Hi angels! Part 2 is finally here, by heavy demand! And uh... for those who thought I was gonna fix everything with this part?? No, I'm here to make it worse! Woo! (Don't hate me, I did warn you lmao). So, enjoy the angst! Hope it's worth the wait x
Summary: continuing on from Part 1 - You return after the ‘blip’. Five years is a long time, and a lot of things can happen in that time. Where does that leave you now?
Word count: somewhere in the 2.7k zone idk
Warnings: ANGST. Angst squared, if you will. Broken hearts everywhere. Broken hearted reader. Broken hearted Matty. A brief broken hearted Frank coming in for the rescue. Not a happy ending. Mentions of divorce and the religious thoughts surrounding that, the Blip and the devastation it would've caused, break ups, brief jealousy, heavy denial, anxiety, lots of crying and I just want to hold onto him forever & ever. This is unedited coz I'm lazy and like to just throw things out into the void and die like a warrior.
There’s a vicious, relentless pounding behind your temples when you finally begin to feel the darkness pulling at your mind recede. With the constant stab of pain, everything returns—the apparent lost time, the strange new world that had grown during your absence, the relationships that had also changed during those five years.
Five whole years.
It might as well have been an eternity.
Your whole life, everything you knew—gone. It doesn’t seem real, it’s just not possible, and yet here you are. Here you are in a world that still feels so familiar, and sickeningly not. Your thoughts are a vicious storm in your mind, merely intensifying the throb running along your forehead. Your system flutters between confusion, denial, mourning.
It’s enough to make you want to simply fall back into the blissful void of unconsciousness, until—
“Sweetheart?”
Matt.
Your heart still jumps at his gentle rasp, a part of you longing to just soften into his hold and cling to him like you’d done so many times before, but you can’t. He’s not—he’s not your Matt. Not anymore.
It’s hard to pull away from the fingers tracing your cheek, and when you open your eyes, they wince from the light shining through the large windows. He’s knelt on the floor beside you, a frown of concern creasing his brows as you slowly shift on weak limbs until you’re sitting upright on the leather.
You study his features through raw, hazy eyes, and it’s only now you notice the subtle changes you had missed upon your return to the apartment—the few more creases lining his face, the extra spatterings of grey strands amongst his dark tresses. His hair… it’s shorter too, now that you’re really looking. How had you not seen that? Not noticed?
Maybe it was the panic. It had to have been. You didn’t notice anything else when you ran in. Your surroundings had changed within a second, everything was all just so confusing and mad—you had just wanted him, you wanted home. Turns out, you had no home to return to. No one to return to.
There must be so many others. The pain must be immense throughout the world. Lovers returning to mere memories. Parents returning to kids left behind, now years older and practically strangers. Children returning to homes that were no longer there, lost amongst the new world and without anyone familiar around them to find comfort in. God, they must be so scared.
Matt’s hand returns to your face, the backs of his fingers testing the feel of your forehead before ever so slowly trailing away until they rest where your pulse thrums through the skin of your throat. It’s not necessary—he’d hear it across town. Maybe he’s seeking physical reassurance that you’re really here, right in front of him.
“Talk to me,” he pleads quietly, “say something, anything.”
You find nothing worth speaking. You doubt you’d even have the strength to speak with how dry and heavy your tongue feels in your mouth. His hand moves, fingers hot on your skin as he cups the underside of your jaw and this time, you don’t quite have the strength to pull away.
All you want is this.
His touch, his presence—him.
“Sweetheart, I—” he stops, head tilting ever so slightly towards the door.
You watch him stiffen, tension rolling through his shoulders as he rises from his knelt position before turning towards the door to the apartment expectantly. It takes longer for your senses to catch up, but eventually the dull thud of boots hitting the flooring outside of the apartment hits your ears—
Frank.
Where was he through all of this? Had he been left to carry on with life, trying to make sense of a world left in ruin? Or had he been washed away with the breeze, just like half the planet? Universe? You want to ask Matt, but words seem to fade away on your tongue.
He doesn’t bother knocking—he never has.
While there had been some stirrings of indifference between him and Matt after everything that happened, there was still a solid foundation of respect, which quickly extended to you the more you attempted to coax the beaten and bloodied man into your clutches for some much needed medical treatment. You were more than acquaintances, a little less than friends—just close enough for him to feel comfortable coming and going from the apartment should he have ever needed patching up.
“Apparently it’s been a while,” Frank mutters gruffly as a somewhat greeting once he’s stepped into the apartment, and you feel the same air of confusion and denial radiating from him.
He had been gone then, like you. How is he handling this? Does he feel as lost as you? As scared? You’d always thought him to be someone not exactly immune to the feeling, but at least stronger than others. As much as you feel for him, hurt for him, knowing exactly the type of thoughts and feelings that plague him, you find comfort in the fact that you weren’t alone in this.
Matt doesn’t respond, and Frank sighs tiredly, eyes flashing briefly to the side under his heavily bruised and swollen brow.
“I ain’t here to fight, Red.”
Matt’s tongue flicks over his lips and he gives a humourless huff, still not relaxing from his defensive stance. Maybe he was expecting Frank to be pissed and burst in like a raging bull with red in his vision, seeing as he and Karen had something brewing slowly between them all those years ago, but Frank doesn’t seem to be interested in any violence whatsoever.
You’re not even entirely sure what he’s here for.
“Well, Karen’s not here—”
“I know, she was with me,” Frank rumbles deeply, head tilting as he appraises Matt, “told me the happy news—congrats.”
It’s not insincere, but it’s damn near close.
His gaze moves to you.
He studies the way you sit, drawn in on yourself and cuddling your chest in an effort to hold yourself together. You can feel how raw and swollen your eyes are, and when you finally manage to tiredly lift them to meet his, Frank seems to soften.
It’s only slight, imperceptible to anyone who didn’t know his mannerisms well, but you see it.
“I was thinkin’ you might need a place, after hearin’ about—” he swallows, jaw rolling ever so slightly. He exhales sharply and shifts on his feet, “You got anywhere to go?”
He’s here for you?
Matt intervenes immediately. “She’s staying here, Frank—”
Staying here? In the apartment you used to live in? That he now lives in with another woman? Was his idea to leave you sleeping on the couch alone, while they sleep in your bed together? No, it’s not your bed anymore. It’s their bed. Their apartment.
Five years of Daredevil and regular concussions must’ve really killed some of his brain cells. Is he even still Daredevil? Maybe married life changed his perspective on his dangerous nightly habits. Maybe his perspective changed on a lot of things. Is he even the same Matt you had left behind?
Frank’s head tilts, his eyes narrowing into a scowl as they flick back to Matt. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t askin’ you—was I, Red?”
“No,” you finally rasp in reply to his earlier question before Matt could retort, voice rough and weak in your throat, “no, I don’t.”
He nods, expecting your answer. “You got a bag?”
“I don’t know if I have any things left,” you mutter, bitterly wondering where your belongings went. Storage? Donated? The trash? How long did they leave it, did Matt leave it before tossing it all away? Like you’d never even existed, like you’d never even mattered. “Do I have anything here, Matt?”
Matt baulks at the ice coating your tone, and it’s unfair. You know that. Deep down you know you’re being unfair, a part of your mind gently reminding you that you probably would’ve thought and done the same in his position should it have been reversed, but you don’t care.
The familiar bite of anger, pain, still stirs relentlessly in your system and it trumps all reason and logic.
You had a life, and now it’s in complete ruins.
What are you supposed to do with that?
Frank nods sagely, “We’ll get you some things, ain’t gotta worry about that. You comin’?”
As much as you want to reject the idea of leaving, as much as your heart screams at you to stay with Matt because he’s all you know, he’s all you have, and he was telling you how much he loved you only mere hours ago… you give a minimal nod, and shift to stand from the couch.
It wasn’t hours ago—it was five years.
Five years.
Matt instinctively steps in front of you to keep you from moving any further, his tongue darting across his lips in an apparent panic, “You’re going with him?”
“Can you give us a minute? I won’t be long,” you ask Frank quietly, aching at the way Matt’s anxiety seems to heighten at your words.
Frank gives a single nod, and then slips out, the door clicking quietly shut behind him. Matt ignores it, every sense focused in on you and the way your heart beats a broken rhythm in your chest, the way your nails pick at the cotton of your sleeves, the way fresh tears smell building on your lash line—
“I have nowhere else to go,” you mutter, body now numb to feeling and just utterly exhausted from the onslaught of emotions the day had thrust upon you. “I can’t stay here, Matt. I can’t. Seeing you two—God, it’ll kill me. I can’t do it.”
Why you? Why did it have to be you?
A part of you wishes it would’ve been Karen in your place, uncaringly and unknowingly torn from her life to leave everything she ever loved behind, only to return to a world that had survived, that had moved on without her… and you don’t even have the energy to feel guilty for such a thought yet.
It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t even Matt’s.
“Sweetheart,” Matt pleads softly, hands seeking and taking your hands tightly, “just—just tell me what to do. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”
The thought is immediate—would he leave her? Could you ask that of him? Could you expect him to just drop and abandon everything he’s built during your absence?
You want to.
You want to tell him to break it off with her as soon as physically possible, to kick her out so you could be at home where you’re comfortable and with him and just act like nothing happened—
—but you can’t.
You can’t bring yourself to say the words.
What would he think of you asking a question like that? Would he even do it? You know how he feels about divorce, what his religion thinks of divorce. His whole belief system, his life, his God… would he abandon it all for you?
Looking at him now, how he physically pleads with you with those soft, lost eyes looking for guidance, you believe that maybe, just maybe, he would.
But you can’t ask that of him.
You could never, and would never, ask that of him.
Unless—
“Were you happy?” You ask softly, eyes bouncing between his where they rest just left of your face.
He blinks, a slight frown forming between his eyes in an effort to make sense of your unexpected words, “What?”
“Before I—” you take a breath, tongue rolling along your lips to moisten the sudden dry skin, “—before I just materialised back onto the street… were you happy? With your life? With her?”
Without me?
Say no.
God, please say no.
You begin to wonder why you asked. Maybe you’re a glutton for punishment, maybe you think nothing could possibly hurt any more than it already does, but when his expression falters, when his mouth opens and nothing seems to make it past his lips, you know that’s not possible.
This… this seems to hit the hardest.
He was happy.
He was happy before you came back.
He was happy without you.
And it’s… good.
It is.
Of course you don’t want him to be anything but that. He had found what he wanted from life—some normality, some peace, and it’s with that understanding that you realise you have no place here anymore. At least not with him. You have no part in his life now, and it shreds that last little untouched piece of your hopeful heart to absolute ruins.
Denial still pulls at your mind, still blatantly refuses to accept that five years had actually passed. You’d been nothing but a distant memory to him, to your friends, to the world, and yet, everything is still so vividly fresh for you. You only got out of bed, held him, kissed him, a few hours ago—a few fucking hours!
Five years.
“It’s okay,” you mutter, as his saddened eyes flutter in a panic, “I want that for you, Matt. I’ve always wanted that for you, even if that means I’m not—that we’re not—”
You ache at the thought of being apart from him, a feeling he had already experienced and endured.
“Three years,” he says quietly, brokenly, a slow gathering of tears building along his lash line, “three years I searched, I waited, I prayed… if I had known—if I had known you… I wouldn’t have—”
—moved on.
You envision Matt lost in the organised pews with dozens of other faceless mourners, on his knees and weeping into his closed hands, begging for the strength to finally let you go. He was granted it, after enduring agony for such a stretch of time, and now it’s all fallen to pieces at your return.
“It’s okay,” you repeat softly, the feeling of your heart beating in your throat choking the words, “it’s okay.”
“No,” he shakes his head, face creasing as the tears begin to make their way down his cheeks, “no, it’s not. I’ve only just gotten you back. You’re back, and now—now I—God. I can’t say goodbye. Not again. I can’t.”
“So don’t,” you say simply, a fresh build of your own tears streaking your cheeks, “we won’t say goodbye. Just… just forget. Forget I ever came back, Matt. Everything will be as it was.”
He recoils sharply, as if you physically struck him. “I can’t do that—”
“Yes, you can. You have to, we all have to.”
“No, I won’t—”
“You told me to tell you,” you croak weakly, the feel of his coarse stubble piercing the soft skin of your palm as you cradle his cheek, “you told me to tell you what to do, and that you’ll do it. Well, this is it, Matt. This is what I’m telling you to do—forget I ever came back. It’ll be easier for everyone. You can keep what you had—what you have, and I—”
And you?
What will you do?
Where will you go?
Your hand falls from his face, only for it to be snatched up and returned to its previous spot with his own pressed tightly against it to keep it there. His tears smear against your skin, the evidence of his heartbreak an obvious reminder that he never let go completely.
There’s something still held for you within him, it just wasn’t the same as when you left.
His forehead comes to rest against your own, and you weaken into the familiar comfort of his touch, just for a moment. You don’t want to let go, don’t even know if you can. There's nothing left to be said, nothing left to be worked out. This is just it.
Why does it have to be this way? Your stomach churns at the idea of walking out for good. How can you? Nothing has changed for you—everything you feel for him is right there, right there where it’s always been, and you can’t do anything with it.
You indulge in the moment a little longer, stretching out to softly press your lips to his with the bittersweet taste of a loving goodbye—one last time. You savour the feel of him, his lips, so warm, so soft and sweet and familiar—
—and then pull away, the air filling the space between you lingering with the memory of what could have been.
He lets your hand fall away this time, pained haunted eyes scrunching closed as you further the distance between you until you’re at the door to the apartment. The quiet exhale of a sob reaches your ears as you open the door, and you dare not look back at Matt falling apart as you close it softly behind you.
#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x f!reader#matt murdock x you#matt murdock angst#matt murdock imagine#daredevil fanfiction#marvel fanfiction
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One of my favorite Discworld books is actually one of the more obscure ones, "Moving Pictures", which is about the invention of films and the movie business in this fantasy world that has dwarves and trolls and wizards and so on. It has its rough patches like every early Discworld book, but Ginger's speech about people who were born in the wrong time or wrong place for their dreams really gets to me in a good way, and I love all of the references to classic films and commentary on fame and creativity. It also has classic characters like Gaspode the Talking Dog and C.M.O.T. Dibbler, and it introduces Detritus's romance with another troll named Ruby.
Perhaps most importantly to me is that this book introduces Ponder Stibbons, who is a wizard, and who goes on in later books to be one of the most important members of the Unseen University (he holds like twelve different positions), in that he's one of the few people who can competently manage a project and so ends up managing nearly everything. (Bear with me, it's been a while since I read any Discworld and my memory is a little rough.) In "Moving Pictures", Ponder is the classmate (roommate?) of a fellow named Victor Tugelbend, who is one of the main characters.
Victor begins the book as a career student, in that a wealthy relative left him a great deal of money exclusively for school; so as long as he STAYS in school, all of his living expenses are paid for. If Victor graduates, that's the end of the money. If Victor drops out, that's the end of the money. But if Victor manages to hit a specific mark range in the 80s every year, then he gets to stay on for another year and try again, and so Victor is perhaps the most dedicated and knowledgeable wizardry student in the university's history, because you have to know what the right answer is in order to intentionally get a certain number of the questions wrong, so that you can continue to coast along on your college fund.
Ponder's graduation is (accidentally) Victor's fault, because Victor runs away to get into the movie business. (I won't spoil what happens, but it's VERY funny.) Now, I like to imagine after the events of the book, after Ponder holds a faculty position in the university, Victor comes BACK to the university occasionally as a disgustingly well-paid external consultant, which drives Ponder UP THE FUCKING WALL. Like, people are so stingy all of the time but SOMEHOW the university budget has room to bring your offensively handsome dropout roommate back just to say, "Hmm, yes, that looks bad. Have you tried turning it off and on again?" I'd throw a fit, honestly. (As soon as Ponder has enough seniority, he probably puts his foot down to stop this if Victor isn't actually useful. Maybe he is, idk, but maybe not for THAT consulting fee.)
I also like to imagine that Victor Tugelbend and Theda "Ginger" Withel are still together, maybe even still acting (badly? mediocre-ly? decently?) together, in some dingy little theatre (Ginger is the director and runs their acting troupe like a tyrant) where the front seats are regularly filled with middle-aged folks who still sigh over the memories of moving pictures. (Moving pictures are now, presumably, VERY illegal in Ankh Morpork.) Victor and Ginger have only because even more attractive as they've gotten older, which is EVEN MORE OFFENSIVE to poor Ponder because his former movie star former roommate is married to another gorgeous former movie star?! I'd throw another fit.
Anyway, I think Ponder deserves to have an affair with a pair of aging former movie stars. I like to imagine this purely because I think it's funny. He seems kind of busy for marriage, so joining someone else's marriage part-time might be good for him. It probably makes most of the rest of the Unseen University faculty breathlessly envious and that really does it for him.
And I think that this affair would OF COURSE be covered by every newspaper and tabloid in the city, including The Times, and William de Worde and Sacharissa Cripslock don't fully understand why their entertainment reporter is so breathlessly excited about people who were famous over a decade ago? (Supermarket tabloids love to tell me about alleged affairs of people who were famous 20+ years ago.) The article on Victor Maraschino and Delores De Syn's failing marriage* is their bestselling newspaper in months and William puts his head down on his desk in despair. (He's fine. This happens on a weekly at least basis. He just needs a minute.)
*Victor and Ginger are very happy with this situation, actually. They're going to take Ponder to dinner to go on a double date with Ruby and Detritus soon. Victor and Ponder are going to get distracted arguing about some of the Inadvisably Applied Magic research projects, but that's fine, because Ginger wants to talk to Ruby about this one-troll-woman-show concept. (Detritus will proudly hand out tickets at the Watch station and accidentally intimidate all of his coworkers into accepting the invitation.)
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Can I request a Bob blurb? Maybe he has a really hot girlfriend and nobody believes him until they meet her? You can do whatever you want with this!
A/N: for the purposes of this story, the daggers are permanently stationed in san diego. idk if this really fits the request, but i look at bob and immediately think that man can dance, so....
also, the squad gives bob a bit of a hard time in this one, but i promise they love each other lmao and the length of this may have gotten away from me, but i had fun, so it's okay lol and this isn't proofread bc i'm tired so excuse any spelling errors (i'll stop talking now byeee!)
(p.s. see if you can spot the movie reference, 10 bonus points to whoever points it out)
Word Count: 2.2k
Content Warnings: none unless you don't like dancing ;)
Cheek to Cheek
Bob knew he wasn't really a "ladies' man." He was rather quiet and reserved, keeping to himself most of the time. He wasn't cocksure and forward, like Jake. He wasn't a goofy, shameless flirt, like Bradley. He didn't consider himself shy; he wasn't afraid to engage in conversation or make friends. Bob just preferred to sit back and observe. He liked to watch and listen, getting a good read of every room he walked into. Watching and listening was how he noticed you.
You were a sight to behold. Bob reasoned that you had to be new to the club because he would've noticed you before.
Bob doesn't get much downtime, but when he does, he likes to spend it at the San Diego Swing Dance Club. Since he was little, Bob loved to dance. He remembers his mother teaching him a basic waltz when he was about seven. Gliding and twirling around the living room on top of his ma's feet are some of his fondest memories. He started ballroom classes when he was around twelve (he wanted to impress his date to his very first dance) and fell even more in love with the art. His repertoire grew and grew, having meticulously memorized different styles (paso doble was his favorite). He still loved dancing as he grew older, able to turn on the charm as easy as he knew the moves. He loved the way dancing made him feel. Bob never felt more free than when he was drifting about the dancefloor, leading his partner. He thought it was the closest you could get to flying while staying on the ground.
That's why, when he noticed you, he knew he had to have a dance. Thankfully, his regular partner, Julie, understood and agreed to the switch for the night (she was a great wingwoman). For as often as he was in his head, Bob usually never got nervous. He was nervous approaching you. He remembers it like it was yesterday. It was Lindy Hop night and you were wearing grey striped slacks, a white blouse with the sleeves rolled up to your elbows, and an old, beat up pair of white slip-on vans. He was in his usual button down and slacks. One look at you and he knew he was a goner. You looked a bit disheveled, hair haphazardly put up and out of your face, making small talk with a few other members of the group. He thought you looked ever so slightly out of place and that it was so, so endearing.
Eventually, he worked up the courage to ask you for a dance. It did take more than a few pep talks from Julie to get him to go over to you, but she didn't have to literally drag him there, so it was a success. He asked for a dance, holding out his hand. You said yes.
One dance turned into two, then three, and eventually you'd danced the whole night away. You'd exchanged numbers before going home and then you weren't just meeting once a week at the dance club. You were making time to see each other whenever possible. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. It had now been six months since you and Bob made it official and you couldn't be happier.
Now, it made sense with his job and his general personality why the rest of the Dagger Squad hadn't known about you. They'd had conversations about their love lives often, but Bob had never really volunteered much information. You two had a good thing going and he liked to keep good things to himself for a while. Plus, the conversation rarely ever got turned his way. Bob was... very unassuming. The rest of the squad, except for Nat, never really inquired much about Bob's love life. It's not like Bob was purposely keeping you from his friends— it just never really came up. Nat was the only one who knew Bob was seeing someone and she was keeping it close to her chest out of respect for her friend and WSO, but also in the event that it spawned a bet. A bet she would surely win.
Eventually, one evening at the Hard Deck, the Daggers were all discussing their love lives once again. Mickey turned to Bob and asked if he was seeing anyone.
"I am, actually." Bob felt 5 more pairs of eyes snap to him, a collective "what?!" buzzing in the air at their inquisitive looks.
"You're seeing someone?" Jake asked, partially stunned. Bob wasn't offended, he knew he presented as a bit of a wallflower, and he was okay with that.
"What, you jealous, Bagman?" Bradley couldn't help himself. Jake's gaze snapped to the other aviator, challenging. Despite them both being on... better terms after the uranium mission, they still liked to jab at each other. Jake was usually better at it— slow, persistent needling while keeping a calm and collected facade. Bradley was more direct, favoring an immediate reaction over slow buildup.
Before Jake could respond, Bob cut in, turning the focus back to him.
"Matter of fact, I am," He sat a little straighter, dusting his pants of remnants of the peanuts he was snacking on. Natasha took a swig from her beer to hide the sly grin that was threatening to break across her face.
"Romantically? You're seeing someone romantically?" Reuben questioned.
"Sure am." Bob pushed his glasses further up his nose. He was thinking about you and how he wished you'd been able to come out tonight. You had talked to Bob about coming by to meet his friends, but scheduling conflicts always arose.
"What's her name?" Mickey asked.
"What's she look like?" Nat played into it, ignoring the pointed look Bob shot her way. He was still thinking of you, particularly about how darling you looked when you writhed underneath him, but they didn't need to know about that. Instead, Bob refocused, a dreamy smile taking over his features and a rosy blush creeping up his neck, landing on his cheeks. He couldn't help but look at the ground for a few moments, then he relayed your name. It felt so natural falling from his lips. The squad was eager for more information.
"She's just... perfect. She's smart and funny and so, so beautiful. She's got these eyes that just... and her smile?" Bob sighs, he actually sighs.
"I don't buy it." Jake is the first to burst the bubble. "I mean, we ask you what she looks like and all you give us is "oh, her eyes, her smile"? No way," Jake throws back the rest of his drink. Mickey and Reuben nod, signaling their agreement. Natasha smiles devilishly to no one but herself.
"C'mon, Bagman, he's clearly telling the truth. I mean, look at him. He's actually lovesick." Bradley chimes in. He knows what a man in love looks like.
"Yeah, it's kind of disgusting," Javy pipes up, firmly siding with Bradley.
"Well boys," Nat claps Bob on the shoulder. "Looks like we have a bet on our hands." She watches the men around the high-top table, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Hundred dollars in the pot says Bob's mystery girl is real. You in?"
Nat pulls out five twenty dollar bills, placing them in the middle of the table. Bob watches in amusement.
"Steep price, Natty, but I'll bite." Jake throws his wager in as well.
Eventually, everyone put some money in the pot, much to Nat's satisfaction, even if she would have to split the prize money.
"Alright, alright... When and where can we meet your lovely lady?" Jake asks Bob, who is glancing down at his watch.
"Uhh, this Thursday at the San Diego Swing Dance Club. Seven-thirty, sharp. Wear something nice, but comfortable." With that, Bob was throwing on his jacket and out the door, headed home to see you. He wouldn't have left so abruptly, but you'd sent him a text and he wasn't going to keep you waiting.
The Daggers were even more perplexed. Well, all except for Nat, but the rest didn't need to know about it.
"San Diego Swing Dance Club?" Reuben was taken aback. Jake was thoroughly amused.
"Oh I have got to see this now."
-
The week flew by, and eventually it was Thursday evening. You were excited to finally meet Bob's friends, he talked about them so often. You'd be lying if you said you weren't a bit nervous, fretting over your outfit and hair more than usual, not to mention your makeup.
"Babydoll, you'll look beautiful no matter what you choose." Bob had been sitting on your bed for the better part of an hour now, as you agonized over your outfit choice.
You sighed, coming to sit next to him. "I just want to make a good first impression." You rest your head on his shoulder.
"I promise they'll like you no matter what you wear." Bob presses a kiss to your temple. You take a deep breath and close your eyes.
"I'll go with the plaid pants then."
Bob huffs out a laugh, "Alright, baby."
-
The Daggers arrived at seven-thirty, sharp. Just like Bob had told them. Nat sent Bob a text, letting him know that they'd arrived. He excused himself from the group to collect the rest of his friends. He was excited, happy to share one of his passions with the people he called friends. He was also happy to finally introduce his girl to the rest of his friends. Bob made his way over to the rest of the squad, clustered awkwardly by the main entrance of the dance hall.
"Glad you could make it!" Bob pulls Natasha in for a hug and greets the rest of the guys in a similar fashion.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Bobby." Jake says, eyes sweeping the room for a lady to take home for the night. Bradley and Javy were doing the same. Mickey and Reuben had brought partners for the evening— a double date.
The group fell into their usual rhythm, easy conversation and a few friendly jabs here and there. Almost forgetting the reason why they were there. Almost. Jake was just about to bring up the fact that they still had yet to meet Bob's mystery girl, when the intro to Thurston Harris' Little Bitty Pretty One started playing from the bandstand. It was jive night, which just so happened to be your favorite. Scanning the crowd, your eyes found Bob talking with his friends. 'Well, it's now or never,' you thought, and you were beelining towards your boyfriend so you could make it onto the floor for the first dance. Bob was just telling Nat about this new recipe he tried out for dinner when he felt a tug on his arm. He turned to look at you and smiled.
"Bobby c'mon, can't miss the first dance!"
He looked back at his friends, "Be right back," and Bob was off to the dancefloor with you. The Daggers watched as he whisked you away, stepping into a seamless jive. You felt like you were positively flying, floating through the air, feet touching every cloud. The way you and Bob danced together was something special. You could read each other in a way most dance partners wished they could. Feeling the music, keeping in time with the rhythm, anticipating and adapting to every move the other made. Improvisation was the purest form of art, the amount of trust placed in your partner is unlike anything else. You and Bob had something special, there was no denying that, especially as you were twirling across the floor.
"Who knew he could move like that?" Javy had to pick his jaw up off the floor.
"They make it look so effortless," Reuben looked utterly amazed.
Jake had to admit, he was impressed. Game recognizes game and damn it, Bob Floyd had game. It really was always the quiet ones. You were pretty, and you seemed fun. You seemed like you'd be good for Bob, even though they hadn't technically met you yet. Jake couldn't even be mad that he'd lost the bet. What he needed now was to learn how to dance like Bob because apparently, that was a great way to meet a lady. You and Bob were out of breath when you rejoined the group, introductions going a smooth as ever. You like the squad and the squad liked you. By the end of the night, you and Bob had shown everyone how to do a basic jive. Reuben, Mickey, and Javy caught on quickly, feeling comfortable enough to join the people out on the main floor. Bradley and Jake needed... help. Nat was managing, wanting a bit more time to figure the steps out before trying them on the floor.
Before everyone knew it, it was ten o'clock and the band was saying goodnight. You and Bob were saying your goodbyes, ready to head home. Once you and him were out the door, Natasha turned to Bradley and Javy.
"Alright, we split this three ways and make sure to absolutely rub it in Jake's face." Nat divvies up the cash and Bradley and Javy take their cuts. Javy gives a curt nod and a smile before walking to his car.
Bradley turns to Natasha. "Can I walk you to your car?" He offers his arm.
"Sure," Nat smiles and accepts.
#robert bob floyd#bob floyd#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd fic#bob floyd fanfiction#robert bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#robert floyd x reader#top gun maverick hangman#tgm#top gun: maverick#tgm fic#my fic
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We need a so'lek x human x neteyam
Idk if you can do with three characters (but i hope you do)
Nothing out of the blue (got it??)
They are like a couple, but the na'vis are showing love to their tawtute. What i meant is that so'lek and neteyam aren't romantic with each other (gay)
Or if you're not comfortable with this, the reader could be their favourite tawtute. Nothing romantic, just being affectionate :)
Hellooooooo darling~!
So for this one, it will be like platonic fluff. I hope you are ok with this! Enjoy~!
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Pxoeng
[it makes sense to me]
Friends who grew up since diapers will get very comfortable with each other as time passes. Would call each other silly nicknames, refer to the other as family, or practically become family. They are close, where one cannot function without the other. As their lives orbit around the other. Friends can come as two, or in three. A trio if you will.
A trio is different from a duo. With a trio, you can dominate and conquer anything. Three is a crowd? No, three is a party. A party with inside jokes, fun memories and a perfect balance. Truly an unbreakable bond.
Which leads us to three certain people. Neteyam, Pxoeng, and so’lek. They are peak example of ‘three is a party’. You have the bright bubbly personality, the mature mother, and the crackhead street dog. You guess who is who.
“Is it poisonous?” Neteyam asks a bit worriedly, in front of him, his silly little idiot. Pxoeng, a human who likes to test things with her life. And sanity. “I don't feel anything, it tastes kinda sweet” she replies after eating a thick gooey substance leaking from a tree. Licking her lips, she lets the taste settle down, staying still for anything.
“We can always go to mo’at if anything happens” neteyam offers. Pxoeng nods in agreement, with that settled they continue on their walk. “Or we could go now” a deeper voice followed behind them. Turning around they see an unpleasant so’lek. Arms crossed, frown deep, and clearly not happy with pxoeng’s little stunt. The human girl frowned, matching his.
“I won't die from it. I ate plenty of inedible things and I am alive. Live a little so’lek, "she says. Rolling his eyes he turns to neteyam, “if she pukes, it's on you”. Neteyam shrugs and doesn't mind at all. “Lets go, we still have ways to go” so’lek says, taking the lead of the walk path. Pxoeng and neteyam followed suit, one on each of the older na’vis side. “You sure seem a bit grumpy today, did someone take the last of your favorite?” neteyam asks so’lek. It doesn't take a word out of his mouth to respond but so’lek gave his answer with a grunt.
“I know! For lunch let's gather some of your favorite mushrooms to make your favorite stew, how does that sound?” Pxoeng suggests. Giving a moment of thought, so’lek nods. “Yes, that would be nice”.
The three continued on until they reached their destination. Their little piece of heaven, ‘Arch heart’ as pxoeng named it. It was a comfortable little cave, filled with paintings, food, hammocks and among other things, built to feel like a second home. Away from their main home.
Neteyam entered first and began to roll up some screens to let more light inside. Pxoeng grabbed a fruit and dumped herself onto her hammock and so’lek sits on the edge to enjoy the view of the outside.
For a while neither of the three said anything, just doing their little tasks here and there. Letting the silence be the comforting sounds to soothe them. It is their favorite part of the day. Just the three of them together in their solitude. No tasks, no chores, no one to take time off of their day. Just pure tranquility.
“Ok ok, how about…..we use some pali’s to pull the cart and maybe the ikrans can carry it on here. Aaaand whala! We can have nice comfy bean bags in here” Pxoeng explains her little idea after they had a nice hearty dinner in their cave.
Night arrived, so to be more comfy, so’lek still sitting on the edge but this time pxoeng and neteyam joined him. Pxoeng sat on his lap while she laid her head on neteyam’s lap. Doing as his mother taught him, neteyam calmly massages pxoeng’s head as so’lek squeezes her thighs from time to time.
“But aren't bean bags easy to tear? The ikrans would tear it apart with their claws” Neteyam says. His playfully boops his nose, “that is why I said to use a cart. So that the bean bags won't get damaged”.
“No bean bags, the hammocks are enough” So’lek interjected. The other two look over at him in slight confusion. “But you like the bean bags,” Neteyam says. So’lek looks at him then back at the sky. Slightly smirking, the boy playfully shoves the older’s shoulder only to receive an annoyed hiss. “No no, he is right. You are the first to body slam on a bean bag. Wouldn't it be nice to have some here and not sit near the edge like…an edgy anti hero” Pxoeng says.
So’lek sighs, not tired, not annoyed, just a sigh.
“Fine,
“YES!”
“But you and neteyam are carrying them all the way up here”
“What?!”
"But they are heavy...”
So’lek lets out a hearty laugh as he enjoys their expressions. Especially Pxoeng. Neteyam calms her down by stroking her hair. Pxoeng lays her head on neteyam’s head as she starts to play with so’leks fingers.
“Fine, we will carry them, but they are for us and none for you so’lek”
“Now hold on
Aaaaaaaand that is it for this one! Sorry if it was short, but its short and sweet! Until next time! See ya!
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Pxoeng = We, three, inclusive
#avatar#avatar the way of water#na'vi x reader#na'vi avatar#avatar 2#na'vi x human#neteyam sully#neteyam fluff#neteyam x you#neteyam x reader#neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan#avatar twow#atwow neteyam#neteyam x human reader#neteyam x y/n#so'lek x reader#so'lek x you#so'lek frontiers of pandora#avatar frontiers of pandora#so'lek x reader x neteyam
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Is it just me or is cecil really exhibiting some of his mom's possible symptoms this episode(idk how else to call them)
I’m so glad you said this omg…. I have been thinking more and more about his admission in Ghost Stories, where, he can acknowledge that their mother was unwell before she even left, as well as when she finally did abandon them, but that the hurt and damage she caused he and Abby was still very real. Perhaps there were things truly out of their mothers control, and its a more interesting and complex story when all of the grief and trauma is still real and there if BOTH things are true. For example, she may have been sick BUT she was a bad mother. There may have been forces outside of her control BUT she still neglected and ultimately abandoned her kids. Etc etc.
Cecil loves Esteban, clearly. But then again, maybe his mother really loved Cecil, despite what it seems like. Maybe she really tried to. Maybe she was truly trying to protect him. We of course know all she did was create grief and trauma, but its interesting to compare Cecil as a parent and his mother as a parent. Her actions are inexcusable, if the things in the narrative she said and did are true, but stories are almost never as black and white as that. I don’t think Cecil would ever say or do the things his mother said to him to his own son — but with the way things are in Night Vale — can we ever really know why his mother said them to him? Was it just her? Was it something else? Does it matter? Because she did do and say those things.
So, to give an example, lets look at It Sticks With You, where Cecil, Carlos and Esteban take a trip into the woods. If Esteban been had been older than 3 in It Sticks With You and the memory was firmly in his mind — a memory of a really fun and lovely day with his parents — and his father kept wandering off, and eventually forgot entirely about the day — like it didn’t even exist for him — how would Esteban feel? And then what happens when that patten continues? I’m sure he understands his father loves him, and hopes that he enjoys spending time with him— but— an inkling of doubt forms. We are looking at an isolated incident, but history shows a pattern of Cecil forgetting, and sometimes its not his fault, and things are out of his control, but it still happens. We will see all of Cecil’s rightful confusion and heart break — but what of Estebans? This is a story told through Cecil, after all.
Because Night Vale is a reactionary story. Most of the narrative is how people respond to and process things — since it is framed as a news show. Much like real life, there might be reasoning behind your actions, but there are still consequences, and they will effect others. Cecil isn’t exempt from that! No character or person is. And it really comes down to the point of, no matter the reason, the events that occur effect people in different ways, and no one can control that.
Its a theme I really enjoy in Night Vale — though usually I am discussing it through Carlos and his actions lol
#poor cecil#thanks for the ask!#i love thinking about cecils trauma lol#wtnv#welcome to night vale#ask tag
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Keeping It Close To The Chest Pt 4
Hi Friends! Part four is here for you first!
General warnings for ya'll
Big sads, panic, PTSD, flashbacks/traumatic memories, Danny should come with his own warning, canonical plus one death but it's Danny, guilt (does it classify as survivor guilt? idk)
Anyway! I hope you enjoy! The Ao3 version will be up soon too!
Stay safe, take care of yourselves please, take your meds if you need to, water yourself, eat some food, get some sun! Much love to you all
~Ren
Danny hadn’t woken up this comfortable in a long time. Fingers dragged through his hair carefully working out knots before scratching at his scalp. He was curled into someone’s side. His automatic thought is he crawled into bed with Jazz after patrol. He grumbles a reply as he tries to bury his face deeper into the shirt? Blanket? Whatever it was, it was soft against his cheek. His core is purring in contentment. He feels safe. Something he hasn’t truly felt in a long time. He melts, even if Danny doesn’t understand why the logical part of his brain is begging him to be suspicious. He pushes the thought away and wants to revel in being close to his sister, just for a moment.
A voice breaks the silence. “Are you awake Danyal?” It comes out hushed, but warm and fond. A distinctly male voice. Danny jerks so harshly the boy he’s resting with begins fussing, worried Danny pulled something.
Danny’s eyes shoot open and he tries to rear back to get a good look, something pulls in his chest but Danny ignores it. His brother’s arm tightens around him keeping him nestled into his side. His brother is staring back at him. Danny looks him over for the first time since he died in the League all those years ago.
Short dark hair and a face like his own. Danny wants to weep gazing into his emerald eyes. How often had he transformed just to see green eyes instead of blue. Even if doing so brought his memories of the lazarus pits to the surface.
(He doesn’t really remember, it was a wisp of a memory. His Mother carefully hiding their presence as she rushed his limp body to the pits. It was just nothingness… for once. No more harsh shouts and bruises just the soft transition from alive to dead. His heart had stopped, his lungs refused to bring in more air and then nothing changed to screaming pain searing him down to his bones, or maybe he was the thing screaming as he could feel what little air he had escaped into the toxic water he had been tossed into. He remembers the frantic way he swam upwards, breakinging the surface with hacks and coughs, only to see an unfamiliar landscape around him. This water was actually water, some sort of lake as far as he could tell. A little girl sitting on the dock had reached over and pulled him out of the water by the scruff of his shirt. When Jazz would recall she had always fondly said she had fished out her rabid kitten that day. The rest was history.)
Danny couldn’t help himself. Kept going back to his mirror to stare into toxic swirling green, trying so desperately to see his brother reflected back. Only to swallow disappointment when the reflection always fell short. For all his genius, for all the solid, crystal clear memories he does have of Damian they are few. All the more Danny hoarded them cradled in between his ribs, mapped them along the many scars that he gained before meeting the Fentons. He had spent so many nights tracing them trying to remember just how he had gotten the mark, Danny instinctually knew that they would lead him to remembering the boy who’s shadows haunted him. Desperate and determined to hold onto any connection to his older brother.
Danny takes a moment to really look at Damian. Damian looks healthy, a bit tired maybe, but his clothes are casual and clean. Nothing like what they wore in training. Damian isn’t as tan as he was as a child, but it was a small difference. There is a faint scar by Damian’s left eye that catches Danny’s attention, it trails down his cheek and under his ear. His hand moves to cup his twin’s face without thinking, softly tracing the mark. Danny aches at the thought that Damian could’ve lost an eye while they were apart. A few more inches down or over and his brother wouldn’t be alive in front of him like this.
“Damian” The name comes out broken, filled with reverence and awe. Danny can be certain at least in this moment they are safe, together now after a decade. Damian wouldn’t allow himself to be truly relaxed if they were still in danger.
The world resettles around him. Danny remembers his escape, the portal that ripped through reality to reunite him with his twin. There was so much blood, Danny was sure he was gonna die for good on the floor of some dirty warehouse. Shame floods his system and settles beneath his lungs. Danny grips his hair in frustration as he tries to fill in the yawning blank spots of the last twenty four hours. His delirious panic yesterday is mostly a blur, he can remember soft whispers of Arabic and careful touches. How far he has fallen. He should know better. He should be better.
He sees the questions that Damian wants to demand answers for behind his favorite pair of green eyes, the frustration that builds under his skin the longer his brother waits to ask. He wishes Damian would just ask him. Danny takes a trembling breath. Danny is confused why he would hesitate, his brother was never one to hold his tongue. A quick glance around some sort of medical room. It seems for now they are alone, proof Damian has some sort of regard or leverage here with their Father. With slight amusement, Danny catches the slight glare of wire and is sure part of the peace came from his twin having trapped any entry points into the room.
As Danny takes more in the room uncertainty takes root as he starts catching sight of more of his brother’s traps, he was very thorough. Like he was trapping his bedroom in the League from those who would want to cull one of the young heirs.
Perhaps Damian is also uncertain about his family’s reaction to Danny since he felt the need to defend them in such a way. Truth was Danny had no idea what any of the Bats were truly like. A few rumors about how metas weren’t welcome in Gotham had circulated but other than his childhood stories about their mysterious father Danny was going into this blind. His mother’s opinion was one thing, but Danny refused to be blinded by his feelings again so soon. Mother had said their father loved them, but what assurance was that? Mother wasn’t exactly a good standard to judge others on. The Fentons had said they loved him, they had taken him in as one of their own and raised him. After watching him grow up they didn’t flinch once strapping him to that table. Danny wants to ask just what about his existence is such a threat he must be wiped from the Earth, his memory squashed and scattered. Singular snapshots in time that are taken as the whole of his being. He could run again if he had to, if things go south and Batman also believes Phantom is a threat. If the vigilante wants to turn him over to the GIW...
A shiver works its way down Danny’s spine and he pulls Damian closer. He can be untouchable and invisible in seconds, Danny reminds himself. The thought of leaving Damian so soon after their reunion makes him pale and his core protest in his chest. His form shutters for a brief moment. Danny tried to shove down the sudden desperation and panic he felt. He had nowhere else he wanted to be, together they could figure something out. Danny wouldn’t have to run.
His brother is watching him carefully, goes to say something but Danny needs his older brother to just listen for a moment and pushes closer, a gentle hand over Damian’s mouth to silence him. “You said we were with Father. Do you trust them? Are you safe here?” The Arabic stumbles out of him in a hushed whisper.
They stay like that, staring at each other. An assessment. Danny wants to shrink under his twin’s steady gaze but won’t look away. How Damian responds is important, Danny might be out of practice reading his brother’s expressions but if he tries to placate him, if Danyal isn’t safe here, Damian won’t be able to fully hide his unease. A soft grip pulls his hand away and Damian looks exasperated as he leans forward to bump their temple’s together. “Yes. Our Father adopted many children that despite their overdramatic behavior, they are reliable,” Damian says it begrudgingly but he also sounds incredibly fond. Well, fond for Damian. His brother had never given out meaningless praise before Danny was sure that hadn’t changed in their time apart. He can picture the way Damian’s face softens as he whispers between them, “Father allows me to care for a handful of animals and last Christmas Grayson and Pennyworth presented me with a Studio to create my art pieces in. ”
A soft awed sound leaves him as Danny tips his head forward onto Damian’s shoulder. It’s just like Damian to know exactly what Danny was searching for even after all these years. Damian can indulge in things that once were decreed by Grandfather as weak here. He can be vulnerable and is with enough regularity that he has a special studio that was made specifically for him to use and a multitude of animals to care for. Danny is suddenly so happy Damian can spend his days petting animals and creating art on canvas instead of training. His brother could hold a brush in his hand instead of honing himself into a weapon to be wielded for the benefit of their Grandfather and his legacy. This was what they whispered about in the dark as children.
Relief is sweet, his body sags into Damian’s. Danny’s smile is so big it almost takes up his whole face, he’s almost drunk with how the release bubbles through his veins. His brother wouldn’t lie to him. If Damian would now just ask the questions they both know he’s itching to, Danny can answer them. Danny will trust his brother, if he trusts the family he is with now then he will too. Likely feeling Danny’s rising nerves Damian leans to catch his eye. “What happened to you, Danyal?”
Danny can’t help the bitter laugh that leaves him as he sags back into the bed. This conversation will be long and he’d prefer not to go over it twice. “You wanna gather the Bats? I don’t want to go over this a million times.” He can’t help how sad and tired it comes out.
It’s not the reaction Damian was expecting, unsure what sparked the change in his twin as he just blinks at Danny for a moment before smoothly replying. “ No one but me has access to the Recovery Room at this moment, although Pennyworth has successfully pleaded for his access to be temporarily reinstated when your bandages need to be changed and wounds assessed. I have stayed close to you since we brought you back since we were unsure if you would recognize any of the others and I refused to risk you panicking and reopening your chest wound again.” The hard glare at Danny’s chest makes it clear that Danny will not be escaping the care now that he is conscious and that Damian was aware of the possibility Danny pulled something earlier. He prayed he didn’t pop a stitch, half-ghost or not Damian was still very scary when upset.
With a huff Damian adds, “Though the family is sure watching through the cameras as they are both worried and incredibly nosy, especially when a new sibling is involved.” Danny could barely breathe, his gaze bounced about trying to spot the glint of a camera lens. The room felt smaller. How long have they been watching them? Why wouldn’t they confront him? When would people stop impersonally observing him? Were they scared to be close to him? Worried about contamination?
Before the fear could settle Damian caught Danny’s attention. “I simply meant you only have to tell me, once, here. I.. We had thought you would prefer what privacy we can afford while we determined who had done this to you.” The uneasy lit to Damian’s words was matched by his restless need to play with Danny’s fingers. “The family while well intentioned, can be overwhelming. It is difficult gathering everyone and having them sit quietly for extended periods of time and our family is… large.”
Danny sat stunned. He would never say his brother was mean or cruel in their childhood but consideration of another person was frowned upon outside of ensuring the success of team missions. More often than not those who couldn’t keep up didn’t return. It’s just how the League had worked. For his twin to shield him, possibly creating tension amongst his family just to make Danny feel comfortable. He wasn’t sure how to respond.
It hurt to see how much his twin had grown in Danny’s absence but it also made Danny flush with pride. Damian’s behavior is proof to Damian’s claims that their father truly is different, maybe even safe for someone like Danny. Swallowing all the things he could say Danny clears his throat with a small but real smile, “Thank you Dami.”
Once Danny makes a decision he throws himself in head first, this will be no different. Danny has to start at the beginning. He must tell them everything to have a hope of them understanding how Danny ended up dropping through a portal to his brother’s side. For… their family to understand what true danger hunts him even now.
With a deep breath Danny goes back as far as he can.The terror of fighting to his first death, the enchanting embrace of the dark, his violent resurrection in the pit. How when he surfaced some strange red-headed girl was in his Ahki’s place to pull him soaking wet to the solid wood of the dock. How Danny knew their mother had defied the Demon Head and even if he knew how to get there, Danny could never go back. How when he had done his best to shake off his disorientation it had been childs play to integrate him into the strange family that found him. Danny was good at hiding, at adapting.
Danny didn’t know how exactly but the Fentons had gotten their hands on a forged birth certificate and social security documents. He assumed through some government contract seeking their expertise on ghosts or weaponry. It was as if he had always existed in Amity Park, there was enough of a rotating population that not many remembered differently. Danyal Al Ghul son of Talia Al Ghul and Bruce Wayne, twin heir to the Shadow and the Bat fully became Daniel Fenton, only son to Maddie and Jack Fenton, younger sibling of Jasmine Fenton.
Things had been great for a while! Easy even. He gained a sister in Jazz. As he got better at socializing, Jazz’s dedication to practicing with him paid off, he gained friends in Sam and Tucker. Their afternoons spent studying or hanging out at Nasty Burger. He had creative parents who knew so much about science, technology and the universe. Who would take Danny and Jazz camping so they could fish, and eat fudge-filled s’mores by the fire. School was boring but he liked going to the library and looking at their books on space.
Danny could’ve never imagined how happy life could be away from obligation and duty. Away from his Grandfather. He could live happily while keeping his weakness from eroding the League further. Danny had tried so hard to forget, forget so his guilt about him alone getting all these soft experiences wouldn’t eat him alive. How dare he friviously enjoy a normal childhood when his brother was left behind with the course sand and suffocating expectations.
Things had been great until their obsession with completing the portal infected his new home. That kind of overwhelming happiness was simply too good to be true for someone who had done the things Danny has. His parents would spend days holed up in the basement building. Grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, and maintenance to the house it all fell to the side. House keeping wasn’t nearly as interesting as trying to build a bridge to another world. Eventually Jazz dragged Danny to the library so she could teach them how to do those things on their own. Danny could never tell her he already had learned to do most chores on his own by the age of 5 and if the debit card stopped working he could trap and clean something reasonably sized in the woods for them to eat.
Danny had tried to convince himself after the portal failed to open at his parent’s big presentation things would soon return to their normal, as chaotic as that normal was. Sure they had been really upset, slipping into depression, but they always started up again. Gained their groove. They had gone on their vacation and… Then the portal turned on. Well, he turned it on and was electrocuted with the entirety of the town’s power grid. (They had done the math at some point to figure out the exact voltage but Danny had never wanted it written down, if Tucker thought it was important to know he could keep it hidden under his firewall in a secure file.)
His second death was painful. The electricity had burned its way through his body, stopping his heart, only for the ectoplasm to force it to beat once more. He was sure his heart would burst under the strain. Or the ectoplasm would rip holes in the delicate tissue as it puppeteered it into the sluggish beating he has now. How does he put into words what becoming the gateway between two realities feels like? It was… An eternity hoping for the agony lighting up his nerves to end in the seconds it took for the ectoplasm to merge with him down to his DNA. He could feel his cells splice, die, stutter, and trip but life surged and evolved. He became something new, something unknown, something rare.
#daydreamsandcrashingwaves#ddcw.txt#daydreamsandcrashingwaveswrites#dc x dp#danny and damian are twins#danny fenton#damian wayne#big brother damian wayne#big feels#panic#PTSD#flashbacks/traumatic memories#Danny should come with his own warning#canonical plus one death but it's Danny#guilt (does it classify as survivor guilt? idk)#I made myself sad but now i release it to you so YOU are also sad lmfao#Keeping it close to the chest fic#keeping it close to the chest#demon twins au#twin au#damian and danny are twins
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Reading that post about Eclipse confuses me because my mindset about him hasn’t changed even with the tragic backstory (mainly because we were shown his bad actions first). Yes, it was sad that Moon left him in Sun’s head, but it does NOT excuse what he’s done after that. And I know he also said, “So why do I still care?” when he had slapped Lunar (which almost made me want to root for him to change), but he shoved that feeling down and continued on his dark path.
Honestly I never thought Eclipse was that big a threat.
Maybe it's the nature of a VR RP show, but all Eclipse did was monologue about how much Sun and Moon suck and he wants them to suffer.
The only real crimes he actually did was, idk, abuse his two creations and cause everyone in the Pizzaplex to think Sun and Moon were bad guys.
Other then that, his real crime is monologuing for too long and everyone panicking about what he possibly COULD do, rather then what he actually did.
Eclipse is kind of the reason that the Killcode thing became a problem and that Moon had to wipe his memories. But that was more of an unintended byproduct of anything. As we find out, Eclipse got big sad when Moon didn't know who he was.
Eclipse is also the reason July 16th massacre happened, but again, that was more of an unintended byproduct of him building BloodMoon just for the sake of having company and someone as "evil" as him.
To me, Eclipse read more as "Team Rocket" evil, rather then Marvel evil, like they were trying to go for.
Everything that is true evil he does, is always on accident.
And everything that is evil with intent, isn't that bad in the grand scheme of things. Not that I'm justifying his abuse to Lunar, but realistically, that's about all he did. (Well, and the maternity chip with Roxanne...which in retrospect, is kinda a subplot that went nowhere. But I don't like how they write Roxanne in the SBshow verse anyway)
Maybe I am way older then the target demographic for this silly YouTube show,
But I never understood Eclipse as a threat in his own show. In a narrative sense, and how other characters perceived him.
He was just a Cheeto who liked listening to himself talk at the end of the day, that everyone perceived as a threat cus he liked to burn ants for fun.
@ayyy-imma-ninja @twinanimatronics
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Alright people, it's time for more Villain Leo lore!!!
Today we are diving into Leo and Splinter's relationship!!!
Read under the cut because this got so LONG, these two have so many issues and there was so much to work with.
Alright, so it's no secret that Leo and Splinter have a....less than ideal relationship. You can see throughout all of TMNT history that Leo looks up to Splinter an insane amount, and Rise Leo is no different.
This boy looked up to Lou Jitsu his whole life, and we can often see him doing the same movements and catchphrases that Lou did. Granted, all the boys do, but Leo seems particularly attached to Lou
And we've all seen the smile comparisons, it's insane how similar his grandiose smile is to Lou Jistu's.
The point is, Leo really looks up to his dad, and we can see this in his actions and attitudes towards not only Lou Jitsu, but also Splinter in canon.
"Trust me pops!"
I mean, just look at how happy he is to be there with his dad, in his element. This episode is Leo at his peak, outsmarting everyone and predicting his family's moments to the letter.
Also, idk about you, but that smile seems incredibly genuine. That's not even a Lou Jitsu smile, that's a 100% Hamato Leonardo smile at his dad whom he looks up to so much.
And what does Splinter say to his son's ask for trust?
"I knew I should have brought Purple!"
....what.
That is his SON. His 14, maybe 15 year old son, who is asking for his father to trust him.
....and he responds by saying that he wishes he had brought his more intelligent twin brother instead, who he has already shown an implied favoritism towards in the past
"And I thought Purple was the funny one!"
"Told you guys I was the funniest."
This is a pretty harmless comment tbh, but Leo takes so much pride in his quips, one-liners and puns that this had to sting a little bit.
There's such a huge amount of content to sift through when it comes to these two, and that fact actually saddens me because I had SO MUCH to pick from when making this post, but here's some highlights.
One thing that I noticed while watching a Splinter and Leo compilation is that during the memory episode, Leo is the only one Splinter directly hits
NONE of the other three were directly hit like this is any point in the episode and yeah, this could totally be played off as a bit or just a case of wrong place, wrong time, but we'll get to my theory later, right now I'm just laying out the facts.
An important detail I'd like to point out here too is Leo's face after the first hit.
Guys, he looks HURT. Donnie and Raph are looking at him, checking that he's okay, but he is looking right past them at the shadow Splinter, who is dressed and looks just like his childhood idol, who just hit him specifically right in the face.
Not only his idol even. No, the most pure and unfiltered representation of his father, the man who's raised him his whole life.
And he just got hit in the face.
Ouch. For a kid as emotive as Leo (who I honestly think feels his emotions even more intensely than Mikey when he lets them out), this is a devastating blow. Literally.
Then, let's talk about this scene, you all knew it was coming.
"Can someone tell my son I am NOT TALKING TO HIM!!"
"You got this pops! I love you!"
Guys this scene hurts my heart. Like, once again, he can't be older than 15 at this point. Yeah he's being a badass stratigiser this whole episode, but you cannot convince me that he wasn't at least a little excited to see his dad, his HERO in action, and wearing a matching outfit as well, and show his dad, his idol and hero, exactly what he's capable of. Leo absolutely worships the ground Splinter walks on and what does his father have to say to his son"s encouragement??
"NO!"
GAHHHH like yes, Leo was kinda being a little shit this whole episode and could have clued his dad in on the plan a little bit, but honestly that could have ruined everything if Splinter had any holdbacks.
Not to mention, this is the only Leo and Splinter episode we get. Donnie gets the derby, Mikey gets the Hidden City bonding, even Raph gets the ending of the memory episode, and in each, they have a genuine moment of bonding with Splinter.
Splinter never ONCE apologized for his actions in this episode. Not once. RAPH is the one who tells Leo in this episode later on that he trusts Leo, something he's been begging Splinter for the entire time.
All of a sudden, this moment doesn't seem so out of place.....
"I love you soooo much!" "No, no you don't, I'm your least favorite!!"
This line could totally just be a throwaway line, but as it was pointed out to me by the wonderful @nardos-primetime, the alarms that the boys did for Google home have a REALLY upsetting one for Leo
youtube
Go to about 1:57 and listen to that one and just......cry.
NOW that line in "Rat Flu" makes a LOT more sense. Splinter LAUGHED at Leo when he asked if he was his favorite. LAUGHED at him.
But wait, you may ask. What about the ending? Splinter made Leo the leader, obviously he trusts him!
....yeah, just take a look at their faces here.
Donnie and Mikey are basically horrified beyond belief and in complete shock
Raph is.....blue screening, honestly
And Leo looks completely taken aback and shocked and scared and honestly, I don't blame him. There is absolutely NO precedence for Splinter to do this. He has proved time and time again that he does NOT trust Leo, he never ONCE tells Leo that he trusts him even though he asks for that trust during the entirety of "Unhappy Returns". NONE of them look happy about this new change.
You could see this as Splinter finally giving Leo a chance, but I see this a lot more as one of the more popular Fandom interpretations of Splinter wanting to give Raph a break. Raph had a huge breakdown during the finale and I don't think it's unreasonable for Splinter to have heard of that and decide that his beloved eldest needed a chance to recover.
Who better to pass this burden on to than his least favorite son!
We also see in the movie that this shift in power dynamics really doesn't do much other than create a lot of interpersonal conflict between Leo and Raph, something Splinter does absolutely nothing to help out with, other than telling them to quiet down.
Now that we have all of our evidence (and I put more work into getting evidence for this than for the English project I'm supposed to be doing right now can I just cite this as a source for me being capable of gathering evidence???) we can actually get into the analysis of how this all would affect him.
First of all, I mentioned that I would discuss the repercussions of the memory episode. This analysis is more for Splinter, but I feel like it's still important. We've seen time and time again that Leo is very similar to how Splinter was as a young teen in both looks and attitude. If Splinter truly resents his younger self and how he acted, it would make a lot of sense for him to also subconsciously resent his son who acts a lot like himself at that age. This would cause him to lash out at Leo in his subconscious, the one place where his true thoughts and feelings are on full display.
I just wanna point out his face again here, Leo looks so hurt. He definitely already knows that he's not anywhere near Splinter's favorites at this point, but it still hurts him to see that get confirmed.
This brings me to my next point of Leo's psyche. He is a very confident, witty, smart teenager, but he's still just that. A teenager. He's anxious, insecure, and very self-reliant. He looks to others for praise often and rarely receives it, usually having to hype himself up. His relationship with Splinter only emphasizes these qualities about him and makes Leo look so much worse in Splinter's eyes because his son is just a modern-day representation of his past self.
Now let's put this into perspective of Leo's decent into villainy.
If Leo is hurting and under the impression that his brothers are maybe starting to dislike him, even hate him, adding Splinter on to this can only make it worse.
Maybe he goes to his dad for tips on how to lead when he feels like he can't talk to Raph anymore and needs his father's advice.
Maybe he sets up a dinner for him and Splinter to just chat and bond instead of sitting at the dinner table with another one of Mikey's meals that he feels too sick with anxiety from his little brother's disappointed looks to eat.
Maybe he goes to his father crying from another nightmare after not feeling welcomed in Donnie's lab anymore after they fought for an hour the day before.
And maybe, just maybe, Splinter waves him off every time.
Forgets.
Laughs at him.
I mean, this is a kid who relys on others to build him up, to praise him and love him because after all....
Who is he without his family?
Maybe it's time to find out.
First // Previous // Next
Link to an AMAZING ficlet by the FANTASTIC @beetleviolet
#rottmnt#rottmnt leo#rise of the tmnt#leonardo#tmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#villain leo au#master splinter#Splinter#leonardo hamato#hamato yoshi#lou jitsu#Rise analysis#rise of tmnt#rise tmnt#rise leo#teenage mutant ninja turtles
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What are Mike and Will’s top three artists? (Idk if you’ve mentioned it before sorryy)
oooh i don’t think we’ve named specific favorites for them before!! i don’t know if we’ll be able to just name Three (edit: coming back to proofread after typing out this ask. i did not just name Three), bc to me acswy mike and will both have pretty varied music tastes — i think they’d both listen to a lot of different genres and artists, especially music that their friends/family/assorted loved ones introduce them to that might not be something they’d usually go for.
mike: we did mention in ch2 that mike has a demon days poster above his bed in the blue cabin, and while i don’t think gorillaz is one of his Favorite groups by any means, i do think he 1. listens to them a lot while driving specifically and 2. just reallyyyy loves their album art. to me mike is also such a pop punk enjoyer, so i think some of his go-tos include bands like all time low and paramore and blink-182, probably with a little midwest emo thrown in bc the boy did literallyyyyy grow up in indiana. i do also think he has a soft spot for feel-good pop, especially boyband music like 1D and BTR, and i think 5sos is not technically a boyband (or that they don’t like to be called one? iirc? maybe?) but i think he would listen to them quite a bit as well! really and truly i think mike would just like a little bit of everything, and his fav artists probably rotate a lot depending on his mood.
will: always a jeff buckley enthusiast across universes to meeeee, and the clear answers here are also the cure/the clash and other oldies rock OBVIOUSLYYYY but i think he would also totally dabble in typical Male Manipulator Music lol with likeeeee peach pit and pool house and the strokes especially. i think he’d also be into midwest emo (cannot escape his fate), and maybe also deftones and ptv a little bit (<- self indulgent and me projecting but i am not sorry). i think he also has a soft spot for pop, but not really in the same way mike does — for example, el definitely makes him listen to a lot of carly rae jepsen and the like when they’re together, and he also has a lot of good memories of listening to older pop songs with his mom when he was younger! like. he hits shuffle on his liked songs and it’s destiny’s child followed by radiohead followed by jenny by studio killers. he contains multitudes i’m afraid
#jenny by studio killers is a very special will song to me. if you guys care. i’ll scream it until i’m blue in the face#i also rec’d a fic on my main blog that basically cemented will as a sufjan stevens enjoyer for me for life#likeeee that is my canon now. sorry#anyways i’m so sorry i know you asked for Three and i just word vomited at you#but i just am so insane about them#and their music.#i have a lot of thoughts#asks#acswy reference
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okay but- cowboy!reader having like a lot of scars bc no self preservation y'know. i feel like he'd cover some of them up with tattoos but some are just too delicate. im just imaginin' the team of seeing like a sleeve of them for the first time or maybe he has a lot on his back and everyone just wants to know what they mean and when the heck he got all of them and yeah. also my poor boy you're really runnin him through it
- 🦦
Description: scar reveal
Warnings: scars, abusive backstory
A/n: I know, I kinda feel bad but also there's so much more to come for him and I some of it (if I decide to post it) is really harsh and it will just shatter him bless him but again idk if I'm gonna post it so we'll see aha!
Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies @woodandwaxwings @wizardmon3 @aphroditeslovr @ducks118 @azeal-peal @13thdoctor-run @introvertpan84
You didn't really think about the scars most of the time. Sure, some of the bad ones haunted you at night, or with raised voices, but they weren't bad. Most of them didn't hurt anymore. Some of them did, emotionally, anyway. These ones you got covered with things you loved. The butterfly, for example, sat on your chest, a small Palos Verdes Blue Butterfly for JJ. Big enough to cover a particularly painful scar without drawing attention. Meaningful enough that it made you feel warm inside when you saw it, rather than the dread and fear that used to build up when seeing the scar.
Some, however, you couldn't cover. Most days, you forgot they existed. Others, they were all you could think about.
The bad ones, that is. Not the ones you got from falling out of a tree at the age of seven, or off a horse at sixteen. No. The ones you got when you pissed your foster parents off enough for them to create a permanent reminder.
The ones on your back bothered you. You didn't like that it was a part of your body that everyone but you could see. They would witness some of your worst memories laid out in front of them, some of which you had never even seen.
The ones on your arms were mostly covered, at least the ones on your upper arms and shoulders. They were easy to cover. The forearms you struggled to cover, not that there were many here, that would have been too visible.
Not all of these scars were linked with sadness. Some were happy. Some were from you being reckless (like daring your older brother that you could jump from the treehouse and land on your feet unharmed - you broke your arm. You were seventeen.). Some were from clumsiness growing up (tripping over the corner of a rug when running to watch the football with your brothers). All in all, they told your life story, from the scared little boy to the rebellious teen to the loved young man to the brave man that stood up for those that need it.
So yes, it made you feel vulnerable at times, but most of the time? Most of the time it made you happy to be alive. To be the person you were today.
You knew the team had already seen your tattoos, from a slight distance. They either hadn't seen the scars, or had decided not to ask about them. Either way, you weren't going to complain. You'd tell them or they'd ask eventually.
It was JJ who noticed first, the pair of you sat in the roundtable room, everyone else had gone home. She had gently brushed over a scar on your arm with a curious look. "I got that from trippin' over a rug to watch football," You said, giving a small smile. Her hand moved to one just below it, "Fallin' off a horse," She fingers traced the next scar mid way up your arm, the curious look turning to worry when you tense.
"Does it hurt?" It looked painful, still raised after years.
You shake your head, "Not anymore." You said truthfully, "They used to. Now they're just there, constantly reminding me."
"Except for the ones you cover,"
"Except for the ones I cover." You corrected yourself. Your eyes darted back down to the scar she was tracing. A particularly painful memory. You looked back up, giving a shy smile, "I really do love you, you know."
"I should hope so," She smirked, "We have been dating for over six months now."
"It never gets old, hearing you say that." You answer.
"Good, because I don't plan on stopping any time soon," She winks, gently pressing her lips to yours.
#aaron hotchner#criminal minds#derek morgan#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid#emily prentiss#david rossi#jennifer jareau#x male reader#x cowboy reader#bau x cowboy reader#cowboy reader#bau x reader#bau x male reader#bau#bau team#male!reader#male reader#reader#x reader
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untied shoelaces
fools (chapter 1)
main masterlist | series masterlist | next
pairing : Steve Harrington x fem!reader
genre : angst, Unrequited-Love (or is it? 👀)
warning : contains scene from Season 4 not really a spoiler cause it’s on the trailer
summary : in which you realize that Steve’s feelings for Nancy seems to remains the same even after all these years
wordcount : 2.6k
a/n : i don’t like this one. i wasn’t in the angsty mood half of the time i write this which was tbh frustrating me. i was supposed to be sad but i ended up being pissed cause i’m not sad? idk. i’m planning to make another part if you like this.
Have you ever just looked at someone and went like ‘God, I wish I were you’. If not, then congrats you are definitely not missing out on something important. But if it did happen to you before, then you might find yourself relating to this story more than you thought you would.
***
Steve Harrington is an asshole and she wished that she hated him for that. Instead, she falls for him, harder than she ever did, loving him as if she never loved before. She wished she could hate him for giving her reasons to do that. But no matter how hard she tried, the words that fell out of her mouth would still be lies while the truth remained in her shallow heart.
She is in love with Steve Harrington. There’s nothing in this world that could possibly change that, not even the fact that his heart is set on Nancy Wheeler. Maybe the two of them are more alike than she thought they were, after all, Steve and she are both falling for those whose heart only beats for the one that is not theirs. And there is no greater power out there that could possibly save them from the pain that awaits ahead of them.
She knew Steve for what feels like their whole life, except in this case, she does know him her whole life. Him? Not so much. Steve wasn’t exactly the one who would go around and shake hands with the others even when they were still preschoolers–not exactly the jerk he was going to be in High School, it’s the fact that everyone seems to love him so he never had the time to actually look around and notice her. He probably won’t even remember the first time he ever interacted with her, yet for her, the memory remains fresh as if it just happened the day before.
“Watch out.” She could hear someone yelling while she walked on the pavement, holding her backpack as she got closer and closer to the school. “You. Girl with the red backpack! Watch out.” Realizing that the person was talking to her, she freezes on the spot, eyes widening as it wanders warily around to check if there’s anything that is currently flying towards her.
Not a second later, she could feel the impact of someone crashing onto her back, her feet stumbled forwards a few steps before gaining back their balance. Swiftly, she turned around and found herself looking at a boy with rather voluminous hair for his age. A year older probably, she thought at that moment.
“You should really watch out.” He said, chest heaving up and down, an effect of chasing her down the street. A confused look came on her face, she opened her mouth slightly but her words went silent as the boy suddenly crouched down on one knee. “You really don’t realize it, huh? Your shoelace is untied. You could fell if only I didn’t warn you.” His little hands tied it back carefully before standing back up once more.
“And let me tell you this, falling because of that isn't exactly pleasing. It was rather embarrassing, it happened to me once.” He continues, furrowing his eyebrows together as a displeasing look goes up on his face—the unpleasant memory comes back into his mind. He cringed to himself. “Well, better watch your step next time.”
She continued standing here, frozen in time even though he was no longer around. “Thank you?” The words fell flat on earth as she said it to nothing but the air in front of her. A hue of red covered her face as she recalled the brief interaction. That was the day she decided that maybe, maybe Steve Harrington is someone who goes around and shakes hands with the others. She decided that the next time she saw him, she would express her gratitude for him.
When the day finally comes, she gives up the idea of it as his ‘friends’ drag him away just before she could speak out his name. Whispers about her name flew past her ear. She knows. She knows what those groups call her. Many names just for some stupid reasons. If we’re being truthful out here, she doesn’t really care about it. They were just a bunch of idiots who loved calling other people names to make themselves feel inferior to others. It’s okay, she thought. People make mistakes.
***
It was a random day in Middle School when Steve Harrington approached her for the second time, this might be the memory that comes to his mind when the topic of their first interaction comes up—which is never. She was closing her locker, ready to go back home as he suddenly leaned onto the locker beside her.
She was about to ignore him, thinking that he wasn’t there for her when he called out her name, almost hesitantly as if he wasn’t sure if it was actually her name. “Yeah, hi. I don’t think we were ever properly introduced. I’m Steve Harrington.” He ended that with an unusual smile on his face as if he is up to something not good. She doesn’t like it.
“I already know that?” The statement sounded more like a question instead. “Now if you excuse me-“
“No. No, wait. You live across from my house, right?” She went silent, not expecting him to realize that. When did he start to notice her existence? The thought of that rang in her mind. It is true what he said, that they are in fact neighbors. “And we’ve been going to the same school since elementary school.”
Preschool, she wanted to say.
“And your point is what exactly?” She raised her eyebrows at the same boy who loves to throw a little prank around the school every now and then. He’s not really the jerk she had expected him to be but the boy that goes around and shakes his hands with others.
Steve raised his point finger up in the air. “I need a……….” She couldn’t catch what he was saying at the end of his sentence as he purposely muted himself. Hesitatingly he said it once more. “I need a – I need a tutor. Not really a tutor, I guess. I just need some help with my homeworks. And your house is near and you’re smart. So why not?”
“You want me to do your homeworks?” She asked.
“Help me. Help me with my homeworks.” He replied. “Cause I’m really really really stupid with numbers. My parents are rarely home but when they do it’ll be nice if they have something to be proud of about me, you know?”
Hearing that last part of his sentence, she found herself nodding at his request. That night she went to his house and found herself stressed because God forbid Steve Harrington to understand multiplication or any subjects that contain numbers apparently. “It’s 9. The answer is literally nine. 3 times 3 is 9.” She insisted for the 2749303th time that day.
“Yeah, Sherlock, I know that. But here, it says 3 squared. It has two and three in it which means I’m right. The answer is six.” He looks at her smugly, crossing his arm to his chest as if he just solved the greatest mystery in the world. While she just looked at him, silently wondering how the hell did he pass those classes in the past. With her mouth wide open, she found herself nodding. “Wow. You really should get a brain check, Harrington. You might just solve what even Einstein himself can’t solve.”
That night, the fates decided to write their story altogether, making them quite inseparable as their line of thread stood closely next to each other but never once ever crossed. What began from a stressed tutor-dumbass student relationship grew into a genuine friendship where she found herself getting into trouble with him. Running through the market aisle like some silly pre-teenagers. His hand held hers as he dragged her away from the angry shop owner, throwing their heads back with a wide smiles plastered on their face.
Then high school comes into the picture and ruins them all. Like it always does.
***
It’s really unfair, isn’t it? Fates must be laughing at her right now. Screw them for getting her hopes up. Maybe this is it. It has come to that moment where she needs to accept the fact that their line would never cross and tangle itself with one another–connecting them for eternity. That there would always be a border between them that won’t allow their fate to cross one another.
She had to watch him slowly slipping away from her grasp as he started hanging out with Tommy H. and Carol. It’s not that bad at first, Steve tries his best to make her feel included although clearly, it’s transparent that she wanted nothing to do with his ‘friends’. When the nickname ‘King Steve’ was thrown around she had no problem with it either. Simple meaningless title.
But when he fell for Nancy. That’s – that’s when things started to fall out of place. Even then, she couldn’t bring herself to hate the girl who owns his heart, she could never. Nancy was a nice person and she was also a good friend to her. Hell, she was defending the poor girl after the shitty stunt that Steve had pulled. Driving him to the Byers’ house so he can beg for Jonathan’s forgiveness. If they hadn’t gone there, they probably won’t ever known about the other world that lay beneath them. The dark side of Hawkins. Stories about Demogorgon, Hell-ish creatures, and the girl who apparently has powers.
When Steve passed her and went to Nancy’s side, there was an ounce of disappointment in her gut. But she quickly paid no mind to it, telling herself that in the end, they’ll be the ones who are in a relationship. Her gaze fell on Jonathan as his eyes were fixed on the girl in Steve’s embrace. With a knowing smile, she nudged him. “You too, huh?” Her hand sneaked onto his back, patting him slightly. Why can’t the two turn around and see the one who actually loves them? Good news for Jonathan, Nancy looked over her shoulder for a slight moment.
When the two finally break up with all of the ‘bullshit’ incidents. She went onto Steve’s side like she always does. Keeping the brokenhearted boy close, collecting all the pieces of his heart that have been shattered to the ground the same way she has always been keeping him close to her heart. But she doesn’t think all of her efforts had any kind of an effect on him because at that time she somehow ended up with Steve and Dustin for a few days. She had heard him talking about Nancy again. God, she wishes she were Nancy. In a world full of questions, one stood out the most to her, what does it feel like to be loved by Steve Harrington? If there’s still any chance for her to feel that, even if it were just for a minute, she would trade anything for that.
Maybe I’m not the one.
Seems foolish to feel that much all for a guy whose heart doesn’t beat at the mention of her name. She knows that. She is a foolish girl. But so is Steve for feeling the same way for a girl whose heart no longer beats at the mention of his name. When he started to talk about Nancy to Dustin, she immediately distanced herself far from the two. If only she stayed a little longer, she would have heard how he talked about her.
***
Just when she thought all of those scary things were gone, the vecna problem showed up and here she was standing on the side as her eyes fixed on Steve and Nancy inside the Creel’s house. Hasn’t seen them together side by side for a long time makes her forget how much pain she could feel all at once. She cleared her throat to gain their attention, awkwardly she pointed over her shoulders. “Umm, Max was searching for you. I think she might have got something.”
Nancy throws her an awkward smile as she walks past her. Right, everyone knows. Everyone knows it all but him. She approached Steve who was still standing there looking quite out of the place. She pointed the flashlight to his face. “What was that?” She asked him, quivering her eyebrows. A disappointed look was visible on her face. “Steve, she has Jonathan in California. You should remember that.”
“What was-No. No. Yeah, I know. About Jonathan I mean.” He paused and pressed his lip into a firm line. “It’s nothing. We were just talking.” His eyes avoided hers as he put his hand on his waist.
She nodded slowly. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. I really don’t. Not again, Steve.” She said with sincerity filling her tone. A heavy sigh got out from her as her eyes downcasted to the ground, frowning at the memory of him after the breakup. “I can’t have you–I can’t have you going back to her after–“ After I almost got you. “After all that happened to you back then. She is already happy with Jonathan.”
“So please I beg you right now. Don’t love the girl who wasted your feelings when there are others who would love you—who have been in love with you like how you’ve been in love with her. When there are others who would trade everything they have just to fill the empty space that was left by her in your heart.” She didn’t even realize how her voice cracks at the end of her sentence or how tears threaten to spill from her eyes. “Don’t be a fool.”
Notice me. I’m right here.
Steve stood there, almost looking as if he were a statue if it weren’t for the up and down of his chest. She shut her eyes, letting the tears escape from them, as she turned her head the other way. Unable to face the rejection of what she just accidentally implied to him. She could feel him getting closer to her. And when she opened her eyes, there he was crouching on one knee, tying the knot of her shoelace together. “Steve, I-“
“Your shoelace is untied. You could fell if I didn’t notice it.” He looks up at her with a sad smile on his face. She just stares at him, unmoving, unsure if this was a memory replaying itself in front of her cause once again, the memory of their first interaction remains fresh in her mind even a decade later. “And it’s not exactly pleasant to fall because of that reason.” He stands back up, now looking down at her with an unexplained look in his eyes. One that she can’t bear to look at cause she knows even if it was filled with rejection, she would fall harder instead.
“Thank you.” She paused for a second, before looking up at him. “For noticing me.”
For remembering what I thought was gone from your memory.
He puts his hand on her shoulder, grasping it softly before leaning down a little bit with a whisper. After that, he flashed her a quick smile before leaving the room. Leaving her alone as she stands there with nothing but pain filling her heart as silent tears escape her eyes. They are both fools indeed.
part 2 (pls tell me if you wanna be on the taglist)
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington x fem reader#steve harrington x you#stranger things#stranger things x reader#stranger things x you#fanfiction#steve harrington angst#steve harrington fluff#angst#fluff#unrequited love#steve harrington is a god#friends to lovers#childhood friends
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Hi! I've noticed that OCiel destroys any photos of himself and RCiel - since he's doing this, do you think he could be trying to rewrite history so that history believes that Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive had only one child, Ciel Phantomhive? He does say that he believes that he should have died in his brothers place during the ritual, and I just think it's sad that after his death, after Sebastian takes his soul, the only proof of his existence would be the memories of the people who knew him - since there's no photos of him anywhere, and all of his achievements would be in the name of 'Ciel Phantomhive', his brother.
Some people knew there was a twin, like Tanaka, Madam Red, Chlaus, the Midfords, etc. So, he couldn't completely erase his own existence. But he could keep newer people from knowing, and perhaps that made it a bit easier for him to pretend he's his older brother? But idk why he adamantly wouldn't let the newer people know about the existence of a younger twin while he played older twin. Maybe it would have put him in a situation where he'd be more likely to slip out of his role as "Ciel". He does it occasionally, anyway, but not too many people catch it (except Tanaka, I'm sure). It's quite possible he really wishes he could get rid of his own true existence. 😞
#black butler#kuroshitsuji#anon asks#i answer#answered asks#sorry for the delay#jan 17 2024#earl phantomhive#our earl#our ciel
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I saw this post the other day and haven’t been able to find it again, but it was basically saying that Lancelot and Merlin commit actually the stupidest identity fraud ever in 1x05 because given they had to make Lancelot a member of the nobility and went for making him part of a family with 4 sons already there was actually a pretty good chance one of them might have been at court or even a knight themselves who could have very easily been like “wtf you mean? I’ve never seen this guy before in my life?”
And while I think that’s a good point hear me out, the opposite happens.
The, IDK, 3rd son of Lord Whomever of the Place, finds out one day that his little brother is competing to be a knight. He thinks it’s weird they haven’t come to see him for advice since he’s already a knight, but little brothers can be touchy about making their own way so whatever. Then he actually sees Lancelot and does immediately realize “yeah okay. Not my brother.” And he’s totally prepped to tell someone about it, but then this guy claiming to be his little brother fights Arthur and absolutely kicks his ass.
That’s freaking impressive. No one ever does that (as we see in the episode) and it’s hilarious. 3rd son starts thinking maybe he just doesn’t have to tell anyone just yet….
Lancelot has his knighting ceremony and throughout the evening people keep congratulating Terry (that’s what I’m calling 3rd son now) and saying he must be super proud of his little brother and Terry just nods and smiles and generally emulated the Penguins of Madagascar and wondering how to get close enough to his “brother” to hash this out and maybe make a plan, but the man is surrounded by well wishers all evening and the Prince seems to have decided this guy is his best friend and is Lady Morganatic flirting??? So you leave it and figure you can wait until tomorrow…
Then the next morning when every Knight is still incredibly hungover The King makes you all show up to a special hearing about identity fraud and accuses this dude of being an imposter and Terry has literally never met him but being yelled at incredibly sucks and this guy has floppy hero hair and huge brown puppy eyes and he did pass all the knighting tests and Terry already has a ton of brothers and also he might still be a little drunk and before he knows it he’s out in the middle of the room going “Excuse me your majesty, but I think I would know best how many brothers I have. I must say I do not appreciate you yelling at my precious baby brother Linus-“
“Lancelot” The Prince’s man servant says on a cough.
“Lancelot,” Terry corrects. “Right. That’s what I meant.”
And from that moment on just absolutely 110% commits to the lie that Lancelot is absolutely and completely his youngest brother and no he will not be taking questions at this time. He gets bros 1, 2, and 4 in on it. 1 just thinks it’s too late to course correct and thinks the family can maximize on Lancelot’s popularity and chooses that over endangering their reputation by now revealing Terry lied. 2 just thinks the whole thing is hilarious and 4 likes not being the youngest. Lord Whomever is about the Kings Age and is at that stage certain older people get to where they just don’t give a shit and are down for some chaos so he just absolutely perpetuates this whole thing.
The King asks him about it and the Lord is like “What do you mean suspicious. I absolutely and completely have a fifth son in his twenties. Lucious really does make us all so proud what with the Griffin slaying and all.”
“He claims his name is Lancelot.”
“My memory is going in my old age and I have 5 sons. You can’t expect me to keep all the names straight King Igor.”
“My name is Uthor.”
“Is it?”
And Lancelot just gets fully absorbed in to the family utterly without realizing it. He has no idea what it means to be in a family structure like this and he can’t stand how much danger he’s putting this family in and is just agonizing especially because he finds it so nice and then Terry is like “Pack a bag and put in for some leave. Our little sisters want to meet you and one has a birthday coming up.” And it’s soft and sweet and Lancelot let’s them put a flower crown on him which makes him the immediate favorite of the little girls and he gets to go to a real home sometimes and still meets Percival sometime in there and then all the other knights and Merlin and Gwen and Morgana have a family structure to rely on more extensive than just Gaius, less evil than Morgose, and more supportive than Uthor
And narratively Lancelot gets to be in all the episodes and doesn’t get killed off and he’s around for whatever romance dynamic you wanna put him in because I swear Santiago Cabrera could manage romantic chemistry with a brick wall if he had it for a scene partner so anything goes and it’s all because Terry the 3rd Son of Lord Eldridge of the House of Northumberland (all that might be wrong) decided to pull a Mandalorian before it was cool and do some on the spot freeform adoption
#bbc merlin#merlin#king arthur#lancelot#guinevere#santiago cabrera#headcannons#merlin headcanons#cannon divergence#so clearly I had some thoughts#I don’t normally write drabbles or shorts but this one might be prime#would you guys read it?#thoughts?#possible fanfic idea
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legally required tsc ask:
GOD ok. ok. hear me out. lucas & elodie parallels. my big brother left to join the ravens and then never spoke to me again. and then of course divergence but goddd theyre so much more tragic in light of each other im Not normal about it
Thank you for completing your duty as a good law abiding citizen!
I’m so in love with the outsider view of the ravens from family members of the other players, the players who are not perfect court. We know Jean is fucked up, Riko, Kevin, Neil. But the only view we’ve ever seen of the Ravens is from someone who understands.
Lucas kind of breaks my heart in a way, in his relationship with his brother. He’s not a good person, but it’s his older brother joined a cult and came back as a different person.
Little siblings idolise their older siblings so much. Maybe Lucas joined the Trojan’s because his brother was on a Class I Exy team and he was determined to impress him. I wonder if his brother was excited about joining the Ravens. I wonder if he lost contact with his family gradually, or was it immediate as he walked through the doors to the nest for the first time?
Lucas saw his brother go off to college and never come back, and when he DOES come back, he’s a shell of a person. Like, I know we throw around the word cult because it’s like a cult but… it IS a cult. All those Ravens that attempted and/or died after losing their “life purpose” didn’t see another option. It’s Exy or die. It’s Ravens or die. They’re all brainwashed so badly into feeling like they need Edgar Allan in order to survive, into feeling as if anything outside of Exy is worthless. So many of them are going to be incapable of adjusting back to “normal” life.
Do you think Jeans family felt the same way? When they found themselves so deeply involved in crime, with the Moriyama’s, they saw no other options? It’s give our son to the Moriyama’s or die. It’s traffic our daughter or die. I guess we don’t know much at all about what happened to his sister, but she probably felt the same way Lucas did: my big brother has gone off to university, he’s talented and playing for a Class I Exy team, but he does not speak to our family anymore. His family does not exist to him anymore. Exy is his life and there is no option, no way he can live a normal life again if Exy is not in it.
If she were alive, I don’t think she would recognise Jean if they found each other again. He’s merely a foggy memory of who he used to be, the Jean from before having died when he stepped off that plane in the US for the first time. I think she’d react in a kind of, who are you and what have you done with my brother? Kind of way.
Idk silly rambles as per usual but yes my friend. Absolutely stunning parallels
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