#Team Phantom Bow

[conversationaltreestump]

If Dead Boy Detectives and Julie and the Phantoms had a crossover episode, it would be 5 minutes of them getting the stamp off of Willie and getting rid of Caleb, and then an hour of them all trying to convince Edwin to change his outfit to go to a concert

[hello-eden]

Unexpected Hope

Damian has been disoriented all week. When he was told that stopping the ritual would have repercussions, he did not expect this. He had been dealing with the memories on his own but unfortunately he could not postpone this gala. 

He had been stopping a ritual that would end up summoning the being he now knows as Undergrowth. Damien does not regret that choice especially now that he has the context. Unfortunately it brought back his memories of Phantom.

He didn't quite understand they were memories for quite a while honestly he was a little bit concerned he got possessed. Thankfully after some compartmentalizing and a little bit of isolation, he figured out what was wrong. It did not help the confusion that comes with being a Midwestern teen and an assassin child put into one body but he has gotten the hang of it. 

Unfortunately Damian did not get long before he was forced back into the presence of his family. he had put off many public family events in the last few months so he was not able to get out of this event. he probably could have faked being sick but he'd much prefer to be able to pass off any of his symptoms from the memories as uncomfortableness being around strangers then be alone with his family. 

He's honestly very happy with his choice after he sees her. He doesn't recognize her at first with the dark auburn braided hair and the dress being something other than black but something made him turn around when he heard her rant.

She was giving a humanitarian speech to one of the investors. At first he got closer just to hear about it. It's always funny to see the faces of the imbeciles when people don't bow to their wishes.

Damien thought he finally found someone who was not a gold digger or a social climber. What made him really stop in his tracks was her body language. It was like a neon flashing sign opened up and said ‘hey this is Sam Mason’. 

Damien walked over with hope in his chest that he was not alone. she eventually seemed to get tired of the man or maybe he was able to scramble an excuse and walk away. he couldn't quite hear but by the time he walked over there it was only her.

 “you seem to be quite passionate,” Damian says, trying to start a conversation and figuring out how to ask the hard question.

 What is he exactly supposed to say? ‘Hey, are you my best friend for my last life or hey do you remember being on my ghost hero vigilante team that ended up with all of us being Undead royalty.’

The girl looks him over, probably trying to figure out what he wants. 

“Are you here to argue?” She says angrily, obviously ready for another fight.

“Your speech reminds me of someone, have you ever heard of Samantha Mason” Damien says trying to be nonchalant.

Her eyes seem to widen and look him over again.

“Where'd you hear that name.” She ordered.

“I've heard enough of her rants to be able to pick it out from a crowd.”

 “Danny,”  She said softly her grabbing his hands and squeezing as she looked around to make sure no one saw. “what how I thought it was the only one” Hope seemed to be filling her eyes. 

“Hi Sam” Damien Whispers just as softly just as glad he is not alone. 

Without another word Sam drags them to the stairway rushing up to the floor upstairs and trying to find a room that isn't being used. She eventually finds one two floors above the room they were using for the gala and pushes him into what looks like a break room.

 “How the hell did you get your memories” Sam demands 

“Why are you yelling at me? You have your memories too obviously if you are recognizing your name” Damian says shouting back at her. 

Sam always has a way of catching him off guard. She was happy just a minute ago. 

“yeah well I did something stupid which means I know you did something stupid” Sam said pointing her finger at him.

“ Well I may have accidentally stumbled upon a ritual for summoning an ancient and when I stopped it the backlash gave me my memories back. ” Damien stumbled over their words trying to justify themselves. "What stupid thing did you do?”

“The girls in my stupid Prep School in my grade went through a very witchy phase. there was a slumber party and they were stupid enough to actually find real magic. I had a cut on my hand earlier in the day and try to freak them out by adding a little bit of my blood. apparently my protection spell is literally stuck into my soul, so things went down” Sam says just as hesitantly as Damien

 “you have zero leg to stand on okay fine we were both stupid” 

They both sat there in silence for a while, mostly just basking in each other's presents realizing they weren't alone anymore.

“it's good to have you back," Damian says, giving her a weak smile and running his hands through his hair.

He'd been trained out of all of his nervous ticks but it probably makes her more comfortable to see him just as nervous as she is.

“it's good to see you too da- do you have the same name?” both of them don't seem to realize at the same time that they didn't get each other's names. 

“Damien” he says as he pulls his hand out of his hair and puts his hand out for a handshake. 

“Sarah” she says, grabbing his hand and giving it a shake.

the two of them shake their hand for a moment before they look at each other's eyes and burst out giggling. 

Damien's really glad he decided to not pretend to be sick.

[suppose-i-was-worm]

Dani A(Clone)

**An Arctic Siren Aside**

***Thank y'all for 200 followers!! I look forward to getting to know y'all!***

Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow of Star City, was not easy to startle. He went through too much training, too much pain to not be on the alert all the time. Letting out a breath, he shot his arrow, hitting his far away target with an ease that he was familiar with after so many years.

“Wow, Mister, you sure have good aim!”

Oliver Queen, when startled, screamed like a goat. He spun, looking for an enemy, but instead was met with the curious face of a young girl sitting on the ground behind him, leaning her chin on her fist.

Oliver took a moment to recollect himself.

“Hello, young miss. Can I help you?”

The girl tilted her head.

“I’m looking for my brother. Are you a hero?”

Nodding, Oliver pointed to his bow with the hand not holding it.

“I’m the Green Arrow.”

She didn’t seem impressed.

“Tell me more about your brother? Is he older? Younger? What’s his name?”

“Stranger danger, what’s your name?”

Oliver paused.

“Green Arrow.”

“His name’s John, in that case. John Jacob Jingleheimer Smith.”

“John?”

“His name is my name too.”

By the glint in the girl’s eyes, Oliver was being pranked somehow and neither child was named John. He tried a different approach.

“What does your brother look like?”

“Like me, but a boy.”

Helpful. He knew he was supposed to be kind and gentle with civilian children, but Oliver almost wanted to pick this girl up and shake her until she had useful information.

There was a crunch on the rooftop behind him, and by the sounds it was Arsenal coming to find out what was taking him so long.

“Oh wow, you’re cool!”

The girl bounced up and darted around Oliver to circle Roy, looking him up and down.

“Now there’s a hero! Baseball cap? Clean shaven? Be still my beating heart!”

Oliver’s only solace was that Roy looked about as off-put as he himself was.

“Can I be a hero? My brother’s a hero, we’d find each other that way!”

Roy smiled at the kid.

“Well, it takes a lot to be a hero, you know? What would your hero name be?”

“Phantom, like my brother. And it’s fine! I’ve got powers, see?”

The girl lifted off the ground, hovering, and crossed her legs underneath her to sit in the air.

“I can do some other stuff too, but the flight is the coolest.”

Oliver looked at Roy, who seemed to be seriously thinking about the girl’s proposition.

“Arsenal, you can’t- What about her parents?”

The girl’s float drooped a little.

“They’re… gone. It’s just me and my brother, and I don’t know where he is. I’m from the Infinite Realms, and I can’t get back without him.”

The Infinite Realms sounded like Justice League Dark shit.

“Let me introduce you to the Teen Titans, then. Phantom, right?”

Phantom lit up, and Oliver stared in shock at his teammate.

Batman would be so pissed at him.

~~~

Dick Grayson smiled at the girl in front of him. Damian had convinced him to come meet her, claiming that she was an ‘integral part of the team’, only a few weeks into her tenure with the Titans.

Phantom smiled back, too sharp teeth on display.

“Hello, Phantom. I’m Nightwing, Robin’s brother. How are you today?”

“Stellar, thanks!” She did a little twirl midair. “How are you, Mister Nightwing sir?”

“I’m doing well. I heard that you didn’t allow for a DNA sample? It would make life in the tower much easier if we had your biometrics.”

She scowled, suddenly dropping to the ground and crossing her arms. She was short, for a sixteen-year-old, but Dick was still a little thrown off by the ferocious look on her face.

“Don’t you Gotham folks know when no means no? Consent is sexy and you are not. I’ve met heroes with better etiquette than any of you.”

He held his hands up in a gesture of peace.

“I won’t force you. Who’s your favorite hero?”

Immediately, as if a switch had been flipped, Phantom was up in the air again, grinning like a loon.

“Phantom Prime, of course! My brother is the strongest person I know.”

Kid Flash looked up from where he’d been assembling a puzzle.

“You met Superman the other day, though?”

Phantom scoffed.

“My brother could kick his ass. Ancients, I'd kick his ass if you guys would let me. He deserves an ass-kicking.”

“Why?”

Dick would admit he was just as confused as Kid Flash.

“Vibes.”

“Vibes? What kind of vibes?”

“Fruitloop vibes.”

“That doesn’t make much sense, Phantom.”

“Sure it does! Hey, Superboy!”

~~~

Kon-el startled at being caught listening in to the conversation. He turned to address Phantom from the tower kitchen.

“What’s up?”

“Is Superman’s secret identity rich?”

“Uh, no?”

“Does he have a lair?”

“Kinda?”

“How is he about clones?”

Kon must have made a face, because Phantom pointed at him.

“Ah-ha! Those vibes! Clone hater vibes.”

Stepping out of the kitchen, Kon tried to downplay the issue.

“I mean, he’s gotten better, but…”

“Nope! He’s still an asshole and deserves an ass-kicking.”

Nightwing held up a hand like a kid in a schoolroom.

“You have an opinion about clones?”

Phantom nodded decisively.

“My brother says that clones didn’t ask to be made, just like any other kid. It’s not their fault, it’s the fault of their creator. He says that the sins of the father should not be visited on the sons.”

Kon stepped closer, curious.

“But. Isn’t it a violation? If someone makes a clone without the donor’s knowledge?”

Phantom looked over at him with big, sad eyes.

“My sister says that’s between the donor and the creator. No kid should be painted as the one in the wrong when they were a victim, too.”

Nightwing spoke up again, sounding a little out of his depth.

“You deal with a lot of clones?”

She grinned, and Kon could tell there was a secret behind the twinkle in her eyes.

“One or two.”

~~~

Dani heard a knock on the frame of her open door and turned to greet her visitor. It was getting late- she was pretty surprised that anyone was still awake.

“Hey Superboy! How can I help?”

“Would you-‘ he looked sheepish. ‘Would you really beat up Superman for me?”

She cracked her knuckles. Someone had said that Kon-el was a clone, but she hadn’t really expected him to admit to it. They weren’t even properly teammates- he was part of Young Justice, not Teen Titans.

“I’d beat up anybody to protect the honor of clone-kind, Superboy.”

“Why?”

Making a split second decision, Dani leaned in close.

“Can you keep a secret, Kon-el?”

“Yeah?”

“You’d better. Us clones have to stick together, amiright?”

Superboy looked at her, stunned, and she winked.

“Just don’t tell the bats. Batman has both rich and secret lair vibes.”

[skellyflowers]

Tour Bus Cuddles

Masterlist

Phantom x reader 

The European leg of the tour has been going fantastic so far. I was excited to be on the road and get the opportunity to travel around. However no one mentioned how hard being a Tour Manager Assistant would be! 

When Phantom dragged me into Brother Kevin’s office to nominate me as the new assistant I thought he was being a clingy boyfriend. He told me that he would miss me. I would miss him too. I was going to work on a schedule for us to still be able to still talk while he was gone. I wasn't expecting this. When Phantom first mentioned Kevin needing an assistant it was during our pillow talk so I didn’t take him too seriously.

I was surprised that Kevin made me his new tour assistant, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was because of how hard headed Phantom is. Kevin has me in charge of checking in the band at any hotel we stay at, ensuring the Green room has what the ghouls need and running last minute errands. 

However this show is in the biggest arena so far. So I have to cover way more ground than before helping the ghouls and completing my pre-show checklist. And to make things more complex two of the main stage speakers have been damaged. Lucky us the crew as backup speakers, they are not as loud but they are just as good. Unfortunately for me that means I need to help load the new speakers off the crew truck and bring them half a mile from the parking lot to the arena. 

When it is time for a sound check I can’t feel my arms and can barely pay attention to what the merch team is telling me. It doesn’t help that Phantom likes to keep me up after shows and work out his leftover adrenaline. I love him and we always have a great time together but it is going to be hard to do my job if I can’t feel both my arms and legs.

I’m in the Green room sitting on the couch when the ghouls come back after they finish the sound check. Phantom closes in on me and sits in my lap like a little cat. He starts to purr like one too. I smile at his actions and start to scratch at one of his horns, he starts to purr even louder.

“I missed you babe.” Phantom says.

“It’s only been 30 minutes, Bat.”

“30 minutes too long.” he pouts, cuddling into my neck.

“GET THAT CUTE SHIT OUT OF HERE!” Dew yells, startling me.

“Shut up, like you aren't going to come to me and beg for attention.” Rain says, rolling his eyes.

Phantom doesn’t get off my lap until it is time for the ghouls to get on stage and Mountain picks him up. We hold hands and walk from the Green Room to backstage and give a kiss before he gets on stage to the screaming crowd.

The show is amazing, just as all the others have been. When the final bow is taken and Papa has said the last goodnight I help the crew take down the stage and pack up so we can get on the road as soon as we can. The process is smooth and we are able to pack up the crew bus in under an hour. A new personal record.

When I get on the ghouls’ bus I am exhausted. I am happy to be the first on the bus tonight. Papa could herd the ghouls perfectly without my help but I felt a little guilty about texting him that I went straight to the bus and crawled into the first unclaimed bunk I found. Ghoul shepherding is part of my job.

I started to fall asleep when I heard the bus door open and close. I hear footsteps shuffle around until they stop in front of the bunk row I am in. I also hear sniffing? The curtain separating me from the mystery ghoul in the bus slowly opens. I’m surprised that I see Phantom, eyes bright and tail wagging.

“This spot taken?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

I let out a quiet giggle and scoot back as much as I can. Phantom gets a big smile on his face and crawls in next to me. He turns my body so he can be the big spoon, his second favorite cuddling position. If it was always up to him I would be laying on top of him at all times. I find his hand and lace our fingers together and he starts purring against my back and plants a kiss on my neck.

“Did you have fun at the concert?” I ask.

“It was fun, Swiss fell off his stage. But I missed you.”

“Maybe if you teach me to play the guitar Papa will add me to the band.” I said as a joke.

“That’s a great idea. We can start tomorrow.”

“You are so silly, Bat.”

“It is a good idea. We could spend more time together.”

“You never leave me alone. You're the reason I got this job.”

“And I will never give you a moment's peace.” He says, giving me a squeeze.

“We can talk about it in the morning.” I say, with a yawn. “Love you Phantom.”

“I love you too, My Angel.” kissing the back of my head.

I let his purring lull me to sleep as the other ghouls get on the bus and settle in for the overnight drive to the next sold out area.

[disillusioneddanny]

The Story of Us. Two: The Memories Start

Bruce stared in shock as Danny Fenton floated in front of them with his legs crossed beneath them. The ghost blinked a few times before a wide grin spread on his face and wow was he beautiful. Bruce mentally shook himself, this was a serious moment, and they needed help. And if Danny could provide that help, it would be great. But also, he was even more attractive now than when they had last seen one another. 

Danny was dressed in long purple robes with a black trim, and a staff with a caduceus on the top rested in his slack hand. He had the same white hair only now it was long enough to be pulled back in a ponytail, the sides of his head shaved close to the scalp. A dark black tattoo started at his right cheek and dipped down into his robes, beautiful whorls and shapes that if Bruce stared deeply at it, was the language of ghosts written into his skin. He was beautiful beyond compare. 

“Brucie?” Danny asked, squinting his eyes as he leaned forward in the air, trying to get a better look at him. “This is what you became when you decided to become a vigilante.”

Bruce thanked the ancients that the cowl covered most of his face because he knew he was blushing. 

“You guys… know each other?” Green Lantern asked, looking between the two. 

“Of course we do!” Danny said. “But we don’t need to worry about that, I’m here for work,” he told them and looked the members of the Justice League over and held back a smile. 

“What is it?” Bruce asked, giving him a tired look, despite the fact that it likely did not have the same effect that Danny was used to when they were in their twenties.

“I knew you became a vigilante after I left but I never really had time to keep up. I didn’t realize you had a whole little superhero group,” he crooned, floating past the barrier, causing Constantine to jump in alarm before he floated around Bruce. “Are you a bat?”

“Yes, Phantom, I’m the Batman,” he said with a sigh, already knowing the teasing he was going to get from his childhood friend. Danny knew better than anyone what his fear of bats was like, and from the snort that came from the ghost, he was likely already thinking about it. 

“Adorable,” the halfa said before he sobered up. “Okay, I’m done.”

Bruce watched as his friend composed himself, squaring his shoulders back, lifting his chin up, and cast a steely look at the heroes in front of him. 

“I am Phantom, high healer of the Infinite Realms, who summons me?” He declared and Bruce’s heart skyrocketed. 

Danny had become a healer? He knew that his friend had left for a war in the Infinite Realms but he had never heard from him since; the fact that he had continued on to his goal to become a doctor of some kind had Bruce feeling beyond proud of his friend. It had been a goal that they shared at one point, becoming medical professionals together. 

Wonder Woman stepped forward and bowed in front of Danny. “Phantom, we are the Justice League; our teammates have fallen ill from a mysterious illness and we have been unable to find out what is wrong with them. We learned that you were one of the greatest healers in the universe and hoped to make a deal with you to help them.”

The halfa gave her a small smile. “No need to bow, I’m no royalty,” he said, raising a hand. “And there’s no need to make a deal. I’m more than happy to help you. A friend of Bru-Batman’s is a friend of mine,” he said, glancing over at Bruce. 

Bruce stepped forward. “I’ll catch you up on the situation,” he said and Danny landed on the ground, his feet hitting the floor without a sound before he glided over to the vigilante. 

“You’ll have to catch me up on a lot,” Danny murmured, glancing over at Bruce, his eyes that bright, beautiful green that he hadn’t seen in so very long. “It’s good to see you again,” he whispered softly. 

“It’s good to see you too,” Bruce murmured, bumping their shoulders together and ignoring the looks of horror he was getting from the rest of his team. “You’ll have to catch me up as well, you know. High Healer?”

Danny’s blue skin turned a bright green as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, it’s no big deal, though,” he said awkwardly. 

“This is so fuckin’ weird,” Constantine muttered. 

“Tell me about it,” Hal Jordan said in response. Bruce just held back a smile before he launched into his explanation of what happened to the supers and how they were in a coma. The two made their way into the medbay where both Damian and Tim were waiting beside their friends. 

“Phantom, these are my sons, Robin and Red Robin,” Bruce said and Danny let out a coo as he looked at them. 

“You have kids now?” He exclaimed before he froze at the sight of Clark. “Oh fuck.”

Bruce’s heart dropped at that as he remembered the state of his friend and colleague as well as Clark’s family. “What is it?”

Danny said nothing as he rushed over to Clark and spread his hands, a green hue glowed from his palms and over the super’s body. “I’m glad you summoned me,” Danny murmured. He stepped away from Clark’s body once it had taken on the glow and stepped towards Conner, ignoring the way that Tim balked. 

“Danny, what’s wrong?” Bruce demanded, feeling himself panic.

“It’s a Kryptonian poison,” Danny murmured. “They call it the Bacterial Blight. It comes from the plant Blister Ivy. It’s an uncommon plant, especially now that Krypton is gone.”

“How do you know anything about it then? What are you doing to them?” Damian demanded, glaring as the same green light covered Conner’s body and he turned to Jon’s. 

“It’s a stasis spell, it just freezes them in time so that they don’t get worse,” Danny explained. “I’m a healer for the Infinite Realms, I’ve learned some from the Kryptonians in my dimension but I’ll have to consult with them about this.”

Danny then launched into an explanation of what exactly the Blister Ivy was and the three vigilantes listened in horror. The plant was uncommon, even when Krypton still existed because of how dangerous it was. The plant was worse than even the most poisonous plant on Earth. It was a tiny plant that could only be found in some snowy regions and bloomed twice a year for three weeks. The plant itself had thick, spear-shaped leaves, usually a light red color with flowers that tended to be light grey, brown, and bronze. They grew in small numbers and even were easy to get rid of because of how rarely they grew. 

The plants had a defense mechanism that allowed them to produce a powdery substance. If the substance got into the eyes, mouth, or nose, the victim would soon find themselves experiencing symptoms that grew worse and worse as time went by. 

“It starts with a cough and a fever,” Danny said, looking down at Jon. “They then fall into a comatose state as we see here. If you had waited any longer before summoning for help you would notice that their veins would start to bulge out, the color changing to a bright green, then the organs would start to shut down one by one while the skin starts to develop bright blue blisters.”

“That’s exactly what their symptoms were before they fell comatose,” Tim murmured before he looked Danny over. “How could you tell just by looking at them?” He accused, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Bruce glanced over at Danny curiously, his son had a point, that was a rather fast diagnosis. 

Danny gave them a small, secretive smile. “I’m just that good,” he said with a wink before he let out a chuckle and walked towards Clark. “In all seriousness, I just had to look at him. If you look closely, you can see his veins were already starting to turn green, not only that but there are blisters forming along his face,” he said and ran a finger along the top of Clark’s cheeks where sure enough, tiny blue blisters were already forming. 

“So what do we do? How can we save them?” Bruce asked him, a frown on his face. “How long do we have to find a cure before their organs start shutting down?”

Danny shrugged. “All the time we need, right now they are all under stasis, and we’ll keep them under that stasis spell until we collect the ingredients. I’ll have to talk with a few of the Kryptonian doctors who have passed over already and see if we can recreate the cure. It’s likely going to be quite a few Kryptonian ingredients and that means it’ll take longer for me to collect them.”

“How on earth can you get ingredients native to a planet that is gone?” Damian snarled out, the twelve-year-old’s eyes already red-rimmed. Bruce stepped forward and rested a hand on his youngest son’s shoulder. 

“Phantom is a very old friend of mine, if anyone can find these ingredients, it will be him. We just need to trust him, but our friends will be well once again,” he said softly. Damian sniffed, rubbing his nose just a little before he nodded his head. 

“Alright,” he said and looked over at Danny. “Save them, please.”

Danny gave him a small smile and nodded his head. “I can do that,” he said. 

The halfa looked over the three supers and ensured the stasis spells were fully set before he looked at Bruce. “They’re under a stasis for now. We can start focusing on the rest now,” he said softly. 

Bruce smiled and walked towards Danny and, despite the fact that both of his sons would likely hold this over his head for the rest of his life and would never let him forget, he leaned forward and pulled the man in for a tight hug. “Thank you,” he whispered. 

“Anything for you, B,” Danny said softly, standing on his tiptoes to wrap his arms around Bruce’s shoulders, hugging him tight.

The two walked down the hall of the Watchtower together, Bruce’s cowl tucked underneath his arm as he glanced at Danny. 

“High Healer, huh?” He asked, quirking up an eyebrow in curiosity. Danny chuckled and shook his head. 

“It’s a pretty long story,” he said, changing from his ghost form into his human form, giving Bruce the perfect opportunity to see just exactly what his childhood best friend looked like now. His hair was still the same, only that familiar dark black color, he had the same crystal blue eyes that continued to haunt Bruce’s dreams even twenty years later. Freckles were smattered across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, that same tattoo trailed down his face and along his neck. For a man who Bruce knew, was forty-three years old, Danny looked barely thirty-five. He still had the same short, slim build he had when they were in their twenties, still barely hitting five foot seven compared to Bruce’s six foot. Gone were the fancy healer robes and staff, in its place Danny wore a pair of worn jeans and an old NASA t-shirt that had Bruce reminiscing about old times. 

“I’d love to hear about it sometime,” Bruce admitted as they continued walking. “Also, your room is still the same as you left in the manor. You’re welcome to stay there while we figure this out. If you want.”

Danny gave him an amused smile. “I’ll think about it, B. I do have a house in the Ghost Zone I can continue to reside in.”

“I know, but if it makes it easier. Besides, I’d like to get to know my best friend again,” he admitted hesitantly, feeling a sort of openness that he had never felt with anyone aside from Danny. Bruce knew he was awkward and bad at feelings, he knew that he couldn’t communicate for shit. But with Danny it was different, it was easier. If anything it was too easy, it was like his mouth lost control and said things before he even had a chance to actually think them through. 

He didn’t remember being this embarrassed about it when they were teenagers, though. If anything he had once been thankful to be able to know that he could talk to Danny about anything and everything without feeling like an emotionally constipated asshole, as his kids would so eloquently put it. 

“Yeah, we really are shit at keeping in contact, aren’t we?” Danny laughed, throwing his head back with the action. “Twenty fucking years with no contact, we suck.”

“We were busy. I became Batman and then became a father and found myself busier than I ever expected. And you apparently joined a war and became a high healer,” Bruce said, giving Danny a teasing look. 

The ghost groaned. “Oh my Ancients, I’ll tell you about it eventually. It’s just a very long story,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. 

“I’m going to hold you to it,” Bruce said smugly, bumping his shoulder against Danny lightly. 

Read the prologue and chapter one here

[andrewlloydwebber]

so basically what happened last night at the penultimate performance of the phantom of the opera on broadway!

there wasn't like a formal after curtain call performance and it initially was treated like a regular, random show. it was kristen blodgette's (conductor and musical director for a lot of alw's shows) last time conducting, when the cast was gesturing to her during the end of the curtain call, they all stomped their feet in appreciation for her. And then the curtain went down as if it was a normal show. But as the play out music played, someone of the cast opened the curtain at the side to watch her conduct the play out music.

And then usually at this point most of the audience would have left, so the crew started resetting the chandelier to the position it hangs in when the show isn't playing. But no one would leave so we all started cheering and the stage manager had us give the cue to call "chandelier out!"

And then there was a bunch of people chanting and cheering and clapping, someone started up "one more song!" a lot of the cast came out in their street clothes and just kind of soaked in the moment, they were filming the audience and hugging each other (check people's instagram stories), a few people did extra bows, giselle alvarez did the monkey dance from masquerade, kristen blodgette took an onstage bow, raquel suarez groen brought out her dog, etc. someone started the chant "one more song" and the cast sang "happy trails". and then nehal joshi gave a speech that began with "as this theatre's faux owner" and thanked the crew, front of house team, and all the fans for "taking care of us for the last 35 years". he told us it was probably time to go home and then there was some more cheering and clapping and the ushers finally made us leave.

as much as i wish there was something preplanned by the production to mark the occasion and the producers didn't treat it like "just another show", i really was touched by the genuine spontaneous outpouring of mutual love and appreciation from the cast to the audience and vice versa. i won't forget it

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Part 12

MASTAPOST

huge credit for their support and betaing to @brekitten

And credit to @adonneniel for sam’s last line :3

Tucker’s fingers flew over the keyboard as sweat rolled down his eyes. The cave was supposed to be cool and damp, but he felt as if placed under a heat lamp. Lines of code, addresses and file names filled the screen. New windows and notifications popped up faster than he could chase them down. The presence of his giant in the hacking world crept closer and closer. His chest cramped from heavy breaths. Sam was barely a few feet away, muttering an incantation, but the distance felt like miles. Each new line of code seemed to shift the walls of the cave inwards or outwards depending at random. He kept going. He couldn’t stop. Not with Danny out there and alone.

He always thought himself as good at hacking. Good with tech. The guy who could turn Skulker’s suit into puppetry. The guy who could out-hack fucking Technus. But maybe he was always just a small fish in a small pond. As the enemy hacker closed in on Tucker, each wave surrounding him, infiltrating like rats into a battered house of cards.

Tucker knew it was inevitable, but to see it happen was something else.

The enemy hacker got it. Got everything Tucker had ever stored on this laptop. His location, his destroying of evidence. His tampering with the sonars to ignore Danny. His attempt at erasing the video footage showing Danny sneaking off. Everything was in the hands of a stranger whose face Tucker would never see.

The only thing keeping him from fully breaking down was the comfort that the real incriminating data was safely locked away in his room, on a server that would brick itself if anyone other than Team Phantom tried to get in. That he made sure of, not just with tech, but with Sam’s spells.

It was cold comfort, though. Not a complete catastrophe, but still fucking awful.

Tucker sat back, watching glumly, helpless to do anything more. His deletion program ran in the background, destroying everything, but it was too late anyway.

Sam growled in frustration. “It’s not working. This stupid Mercator Projection map is fucking with the spell. I can’t tell if he’s in Hawaii or Mexico City.”

She crumpled up the cheap map they’d bought from the tourist shop and stomped on it with a thumping vengeance. They would’ve brought an entire globe, the bigger the better, but that would get them noticed, and flying under the radar was the whole point.

“Any luck?”

Tucker gestured to his computer, about to be bricked again. “This guy’s a monster. A monster. I’m like a tiny ant compared to him. Every time I make a move he’s made fifteen more.”

“There’s gotta be something else we can do. Come on, Tuck-”

Then the waterfall sprayed over the cove, revealing the Fenton Family SAV.

Shit.

He and Sam locked eyes in a second. Then they broke eye contact. They and Danny had gone over plans for what to do if certain things happened. If someone stole the files on his servers. If someone followed Danny without noticing. If someone found their cove.

Above all else, above everything else, don’t tell them about Danny. Don’t even hint towards it. Play dumb and obfuscate.

Tucker realised belatedly that they never got to practice all of those plans.

Mrs Fenton leapt off the bow, and marched like a woman possessed. Her eyes narrowed. Her shoulders squared up. Her jawline set.

Tucker felt like he was going to die.

“Where’s Danny?” Mrs Fenton all but ordered. “Where is he? Is it true? Is it true that that- that- that Phantom brainwashed all of you into helping him!? What did Phantom do to him?! What happened to my baby?!” Each question echoed louder, more panicked than the last.

What was the rulebook for this situation again?!

Tucker’s mouth dried. Every millisecond not responding put the fear of God into his heart. “Who the heck is Phantom?”

Mrs Fenton’s expression hardened further, if that was possible. Wrong thing to say, fuck.

Sam stepped in front of him, pose defiant, but arms shaking just enough for Tucker to notice. “That’s what we’ve been doing. We’ve been looking for Danny because the adults sure as fucking hell won’t.”

Looking for him, and Damian Wayne, but maybe bringing him up was going to be more trouble than it was worth, seeing as behind Mrs Fenton, Danny’s dad and holy shit was that Bruce Wane trailed up behind her. If it weren’t for the situation, Tucker felt like would’ve died anyway from meeting his idol.

Mr Wayne spoke up next. “I’m sorry we neglected the case of your friend, but you should’ve informed the authorities as soon as you suspected. How long have you known and not told anyone?”

Because telling people about Danny would land him on a VIP seat in the operating theatre! Because it was your freaking son he was trying to save?

Tucker couldn’t tell them that. What could he tell? He clenched his jaw like a vice, searching for a way out of this…

“You guys don’t get to tell us what to do.” Sam ground out. “We’ve been helping Phantom protect this freaking island from the sirens for months, with no help from any of you.”

Right! Good work Sam. Just a tiny hint of the truth and the real secrets stay hidden. Sam, he could kiss her right now (not that he’d ever want to).

Mrs Fenton raised her voice. “Samantha, we’ve been over this. Phantom isn’t a hero like Batman or Wonder Woman or Superman. He’s an inhuman monster staking claim over a territory. He’s tricking you kids!”

“Phantom’s saved us more than we could count! He’s risked his neck for this town.” Sam spat out, squaring up to Mrs Fenton on her steel-toed boots.

“He’s protecting his assets! If Phantom is such a protector, then why would he threaten the mayor, lead the invasion of town and work with Showenhower!?”

“It was all just a m-misunderstanding, Mrs Fenton, I swear!” Tucker said.

Mrs Fenton continued. “And now Danny’s gone. We know he’s been supplying Phantom with our inventions. Don’t you try and play dumb with us, young man. We’ve seen the footage of Danny sneaking out.”

Tucker’s blood ran thinner, and thinner. The cold sweat returned in full force.

Mr Wayne came between them, trying to put space between the two, without much success. “Please, if Phantom is hurting or threatening you in any way, it’s ok to tell us. We can keep you safe. We just need to know what happened to Danny.”

Sam gulped. Loud enough that even Tucker could hear it. It was at times like these Tucker wished Danny’s parents were as inattentive as they were made out to be by the public.

Their silence spoke volumes enough. Tucker wasn’t Batman, and neither was Sam. They didn’t have the chops to talk their way out of this, not enough Charisma to hit the DC checks, but they were also cornered here by the adults. One way or another, Tucker feared for Danny’s secrets.

Mr Fenton spoke up next, his voice uncharacteristically contemplative. “When I showed Danno the new security system and cameras in the lab and arsenal two weeks ago, it felt like he wasn’t as pumped up as I was. At first I thought it was nothing, but looking back it almost looked like fear.”

Well duh! You were showing him all the stuff you were gonna use to tear him into itty bitty pieces! Who wouldn’t be afraid for their life?!

Bruce Wayne crouched to their level, eyes soft like they were traumatized orphans that he was gonna adopt or something. “Did Phantom threaten Danny into giving him wea-”

“NO!” Tucker shouted instantly. A beat passed. His voice echoed through the cave. Shit. With the way the adults were looking at him, he might as well have said yes.

Sam pushed Mr Wayne away, or at least she tried to. The man barely budged, so she just stepped back from him. “Why do you care?! Already looking for another kid to replace the one you lost?”

The Fentons’ eyes widened, their faces in shock. Mr Wayne looked like he’d been punched through the gut and made into a donut. Ouch Sam, what the fuck?!

His voice lowered into a dark timbre, his expression steely cold. “I don’t want any more kids to get hurt. This Phantom needs to be stopped.”

Sam clutched his hand like a clamp. Tucker’s heart sank. What had they just done?

Please be alright, Danny, and Damian Wayne…

In an ocean far far away…

Damian sniffed the water as he clung to Danny’s shoulders again, his tail wrapped around the black and white boy’s waist. The kid had been doing that a lot lately, sniffing. Claimed it was to hone his senses.

“I believe I can smell Atlanteans nearby.” Damian said. Danny took the moment to verify his suspicions with his whole whiff.

“Yeah, looks it.” Danny said. He was a little suspicious though. Damian had refused to speak about what happened in the Atlantean outpost and how he got all this cool stuff. Surely he could’ve have fought them off, so he probably snuck around. Danny couldn’t imagine how terrifying that kind of thing would be. At least he knew his parents and what they were capable of when sneaking around the house and Amity. This kid was literally just some normal rich kid until all this happened.

“Why do you mention it?” Danny asked.

“I believe we it would be beneficial for us to partake in raid.”

Danny blinked.

A raid.

“You raided the Atlanteans and got this stuff. Like, legit raiding.” Danny said, dumbfounded.

“I met little resistance.”

Danny needed a moment to breathe here. His gills flexed open and closed.

“And now you want to raid another settlement. Why? We’re still good on food, and we even have veggies!”

Damian shook his head. “We need a map.”

Danny huffed, fins straightening. “We have a map literally up there!” he pointed up at the orange and purple sky over the sunset. The brightest stars were already beginning to show, with many more on the way.

“The Atlanteans likely keep maps of the local area, including human settlements and islands. There we can find further resources, and establish contact with the human world again.”

Huh. That was actually a pretty solid plan. His friends, sister (and maybe parents, if they noticed) were likely worried sick. A phone wouldn’t do them very well in the water, but even just a call letting them know they were ok would do wonders for their mental health.

That still left one teensy, tiny little issue, though.

“But how did you raid them the first time?!”

“It matters not.” Damian said, fins puffing up with pride. “All that matters is that with your skillset, such a mission will be as easy as breathing underwater.”

This kid was having way too much fun boasting of things no kid should’ve been able to accomplish. Then again, he showed some pretty insane marksmanship with the Wrist Ray the other day, so maybe he really did have the chops to back the ego up.

That acknowledgement did not stop Danny from pulling Damian to his chest, and administering a thorough nooggie, however.

[yuurei20]

Rook Info Compilation part 15: Rook and Vil (pt4)

Rook says that, once they were better acquainted, one of the first things that Vil told him to do was to take care of his nails, as his hands were callused from gripping his bow string, with his skin dry and cracked.

Rook says that he hardly paid attention to his hands because he typically wears gloves (in the game guide there is a memo about how Rook wears gloves as often as he does in order to not leave fingerprints).

Vil says that Rook did not leave a very good impression when they first met: Vil was reading a script on a bench in the school’s courtyard when Rook approached him to compliment him on being a convincingly cold, tyrannical, tantrum-prone fiend in a recent play.

Rook claims he was “terribly nervous,” but Vil calls him a liar.

Vil explains that, after that first meeting, Rook started approaching him without any encouragement from Vil to “share his completely unsolicited opinions on (Vil’s) performances, then go on his way. Both his positive impressions AND negative ones.”

Vil says that over time he realized that Rook’s observations were oddly perceptive. One day he asked Rook how he would have performed a certain scene which Rook spoke critically of, and “He went on for FIVE HOURS STRAIGHT.” (Rook: “What a rewarding discussion that was.”)

Vil says that he had been convinced that he knew more about theater and art than anyone else his age, but “Rook quickly disabused (him) of that notion with his breadth of knowledge.”

After that, the two started meeting up regularly in the courtyard after school.

At the end of Book 5, Rook justifies voting for Royal Sword Academy by explaining that Vil lacked conviction: “No amount of validation from the rest of the world will ever leave you fulfilled. Even if you wind up old, grimy, and stooped over, if you were to truly believe that you are the fairest of all despite that, even the Magic Mirror of legend wouldn’t contest your claim. The strength and pride to believe in yourself is what marks the true fairest one of all.”(This scene later plays out as Rook describes in Book 6.)

Rook and Vil were on the same team for Beanfest in their second year and Rook says that “no one could mount any effective resistance” against them.

During pre-event stretches Vil notices that Rook’s shoulders and thighs have more muscle mass than usual. Rook explains that he had spent the previous month doing higher-intensity training specifically in preparation for Beanfest, as his wish to compete against Vil was granted.

Rook immediately pairs with Trey for the event, citing that teams need leadership to persevere, but during the game he asks Trey to not interfere with his capturing of Vil, which he successfully does after Vil runs out of beans. (Vil: “You’re stooped low, crouched like a predator. I can barely keep my aim trained on you!”)

During Phantom Bride Rook comments, “Would a bride who’s spent so long seeking her groom be willing to relinquish him? Were it myself, I would never let my dear beloved go.”

At the end of the event Vil is displeased with how long Epel and Rook took to come to his rescue and Rook apologies, saying, “I found myself lost so often without you to light my way,” but Epel points out he had actually been “busting up ghosts with giddy abandon.”

[rain-day-today]

Gajeel and Wendy

They are just so brother-and-sister-with-a-large-enough-age-gap-that-they-often-get-mistaken-as-dad-and-daughter-core its insane.

Add levy and they literally look like a little family when they go out in public . I could totally see gajeel trying to steal wendy from team natsu with the excuse that she looks like gajeel and levy’s secret lovechild. Erza of course doesn't let that happen considering that Wendy could also be her and jellas secret love child, but she doesn't say that and instead says that changing Wendy’s team would be too much paperwork, so she cannot possibly transfer to Gajeels team.( the paper work doesn’t exist everyone is too scared to call her out on it though)

I feel like Wendy already considers most of the men in the guild to be her brothers but especially gajeel and natsu because not only do they have the same magic type, but they were literally raised together. Just the idea that gajeel,natsu, and wendy have a little dragon slayer get together ( they invite laxus and occasionally he pops up) where they do dragon things like stuff their mouth full of iron, fire, and sky(?), talk about their childhood and just be a little feral as a treat for being all proper( having basic human etiquette ).

Imagine gajeel letting wendy put bows in his hair because he wants her to feel like a kid for a bit longer and its remind him of of metalicana(?) playing with his hair. Or Wendy giving gajeel a talk about how he's going to be a great dad to his and Levy’s kids because he is already such a great brother. Or gajeel seeing how he wants his kids to be when they grow up while looking at Wendy. Think about Wendy being dragged into a guild brawl and absolutely blowing through everyone and gajeel standing there all smug because that's his little sister!

Imagine the guilt Gajeel feels knowing how many times Wendy has been abandoned at her young age. How he tries to train her to be stronger. If they get their memories back, how they compare the people they are now to the kids they started off as.

Think of the Sibling angst possibilities of Gajeel not being anything, how Wendy remembers him due to his tough life in phantom. Think about how much of each other's lives they missed? The possibilities are ENDLESS.

It’s criminal that we don't get to see more of them!

[astral-multiverse]

Team Trinity Side Stories: A Jaded Conquest

@smashingveteransandnewcomers

The collaboration between the Eggman Empire and Queen Jade and her Prisma Elite has had some very... interesting results, but all have ended in failure. And these failures have annoyed and infuriated the bejeweled queen. She was pacing around in an empty room with only her Prisma Elite accompanying her and they knew their queen was fuming with anger

"This whole unity idea was a big mistake... Ever since we came here, we've had nothing but failure after failure! And I thought those Robotniks would make things easier, but apparently I was mistaken about that too!"

"I don't even know why we bother with them, Your Majesty. I mean, even with our help they can't even beat Team Trinity! And that whole Illusion Empire plan was practically flawless!"

"Yet it was foiled because of the rouge element of those Phantom Thieves arriving... Something we could not have anticipated..."

"I say to hell with this whole team up! Those Robotniks are just holding us back!"

"Agreed, Opal... Which is why we're breaking ties and taking over this show ourselves... Crystal, I need you to start on reprogramming the Egg Net, that way we can have complete control of their robots and their files"

"At once, Your Majesty"

"It's time for the Eggman Empire to bow before their new Queen..."

[nikethestatue]

A Match Baked In Heaven

Sorry for the long break y'all. Life and all. Here is an update.

Chapter XV

Things Ain’t Like They Used To Be

The beginning of the end started innocuously and unremarkably. There was nothing to suggest that things would be changing. And they shouldn’t have been changing either, because everything was…happiness. 

Azriel had disappeared soon after Christmas dinner was over and the last of the trifle was eaten, and Elain couldn’t find him. However, since she couldn’t find Piglet either, she hoped that her boys were together. 

She had a fun night, singing carols, teasing Nesta along with Cassian, and risking her wrath, because Cassian was hilarious and Nesta was all pissy since Elain and Cassian teamed up for the first round of games. Then, while drinking after-dinner cocktails, everyone played more games, and Feyre and their father won. Rhys and Elain came in second, but Rhys lamented that Azriel wasn’t around because he’d beat everyone. 

“He is wildly competitive,” Rhys whispered to Elain. “Not surprising considering he is a professional athlete, but that man will win any game.”

It was then that Elain realised how much she missed Azriel next to her. After their silly row earlier in the day, things weren’t the same and Elain hated it! She hated that their first Christmas together wasn’t perfect. The fact that she even had him with her here, in Rosehall, with her family, having Christmas with all of them like he was part of the family, part of her, was exhilarating enough! She never thought that it would happen; that she’d be at her ancestral home, with the man she loved, with her sisters, her father, her dog, but here they were. Therefore, while the festivities were still going strong, Elain slipped away from the reception and went to find Azriel and Piglet. Just before she rounded the corner though, she heard Cassian’s voice calling her,

“Hey, petal. Wait up.”

Cassian looked a little buzzed, his jacket off, his white tuxedo shirt unbuttoned at the collar, the bow tie untied and hanging over his neck, his hair flowing just past his shoulders. No wonder Nesta, the icy, prickly Nesta, was all aflutter over him. The man was almost pornographically handsome, in the most primal of ways. This was the man who was going to bend you over, fuck you within an inch of your life, and you’d turn around and thank him. The raw, beasial beauty of him was truly breathtaking.

Elain stopped her thoughts spiralling out of control, because it was probably inappropriate to think of her sister’s new love interest in this manner. But Elain was…horny. Since last night, she was horny (well, she’s been horny and a little desperate for a while now) and the phantom feel of Azriel’s wicked hand inside of her still lingered and offered a pleasant memory by keeping her sore and wet.

Nevertheless, Elain thought that if Azriel wasn’t her soulmate, she’d absolutely give Cassian a lot of attention. Because this man was devastating. 

He came closer, propping his arm against the wall. Elain looked up at him, all 6”6 of him and he snickered, “Well, we destroyed them at Pictionary, didn’t we?”

“We annihilated!” Elain agreed savagely, nodding.

Cassian laughed at her, but then his face changed to a more serious expression, and he asked,

“Az treating you good, petal?”

Elain frowned at the strange question and said,

“He is!”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Why?”

Cassian avoided answering directly, instead, saying,

“He can get a little intense, you know,”

Elain laughed at that.

“You think?” she shook her head. 

“Are you okay with that?”

“That he is incredibly intense, barks ‘you are mine!’ and has me saved as ‘Mrs. Night’ on his phone?” she raised her brow at Cassian.

He pressed his tongue into his cheek and after a long pause, nodded at last. 

“Yes, that’s what I mean.”

She shrugged, 

“He is also generous, loving, unbelievably inappropriate but also strangely gallant. I have to take the good with the bad and the questionable,” she said decisively.

“He is new to all of this,” Cassian reminded her cautiously.

“What?”

Cassian paused again, until he finally uttered, 

“Love.”

Elain swallowed loudly, unable to respond. 

She and Azriel had never gone as far as the ‘L” word. They’ve exchanged words of tenderness, and Azriel never stopped coming up with new and extravagant endearments for her. But he never said that he was in love with her, and neither did she tell him the same.

“You know his history,” Cassian continued, “he never felt like this about a woman. Never been with a woman long enough to feel much of anything.”

“Cass, I think it’s premature to discuss all of this,” Elain muttered, her tone panicked.

Cassian ran his tongue over his lower lip and said, “Just be gentle with him, Elain. Be kind to his heart. He is not himself because of you.”

“What do you mean?” she demanded, worrying her lip with her teeth.

“Nothing really. Just that he is navigating a wholly new territory. He isn’t as confident as he appears to be.”

“Azriel…he is very special to me,” Elain murmured.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what you shouldn’t tell him,” Cassian warned quickly.

Her brow furrowed, “what, exactly?”

“Special. Don’t use words like that with him. You either confess your love for him and tell him that you are his. Or nothing, He doesn’t do things halfway. It’s all or nothing with him.”

Elain sighed, thinking. What Cassian was saying made sense, though she wasn’t sure how to approach that conversation yet.

“Thanks Cassian. But we are just fine. Brilliant even.”

He grunted something unintelligible and then said, “well, good night then. Happy Christmas, Elain. I didn’t think that that’s where we’d be for Christmas, but I can’t say that I mind it.”

She smiled and nodded, “yeah, I don’t mind it as well. Happy Christmas.”

Elain turned and she was almost out of sight, when Cassian called after her again.

“Oi!”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, watching him rub his chin, looking pensive.

“You been to his flat?” he questioned. 

Another odd inquiry.

She nodded, “yes. We went to his yesterday. Why?”

“You liked it?”

“The views were amazing!!” she said enthusiastically. “But Canary Wharf…you know,” she shrugged indifferently.

“Boring, eh?”

Elain grinned, “it is!”

“Did you see a cage anywhere?” he suddenly asked.

“A cage?” Elain looked utterly confused. “What cage?”

“So no cage?”

“Oh, for Piglet? Yes. Az got him three beds and a ton of toys, but also a huge cage! Can you imagine?” she giggled.

Cassian stilled at her words.

“Yeah,” he murmured thoughtfully. “He was talking about it.”

“Pigled isn’t into cages,” Elain huffed. “He’d bite him if he was put in a cage!’

“That’s what I told him too,” Cassian smiled at her. “Well, good night then.”

“Night Cass!”

-

Elain opened the door to the bedroom quietly and tiptoed inside. It was dim in the room, only one lamp illuminating the spacious, luxurious space. She heard Piglet and his little snores first. Then she found Azriel lying on the bed, dressed in joggers and a t-shirt, his arm thrown over his eyes. He was barefoot and looked comfortable in his sleep, his breathing deep and even. Piglet was sleeping on his side next to his dad, oblivious to everything, not even sensing Elain’s arrival. Or if he did, he didn’t react. Great guard dog he was! But she supposed he was trusting Azriel to protect her from serial killers lurking in the garden. He was apparently ‘off duty’.

She watched them for a moment, until suddenly Azriel opened his arms, but not his eyes. Wordlessly, Elain approached the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips and burying her face in his chest. His arms banded around her and he pressed her closer to him. She didn’t care that she was wearing her dress and that her voluminous skirt took up half of the bed. She didn’t even care about wearing shoes. 

He stroked her bare back lightly, his harsh, uneven skin and strong fingers sending shivers of pleasure down her body. 

“I thought I lost you,” Elain whispered, her voice sounding desperate.

He sighed and drew his hand along her spine.

“No. Not just yet.”

“Yet?” she gasped and looked up at him.

His face was sombre, but then he smiled at her and caressed her head, and then her face.

“Are we fighting?” she asked, knowing how stupid she sounded, but she didn’t even care. She knew that she kind of freaked out at him in the morning and it was so silly–all because of ‘Mrs. Night’ on his phone. 

“Do you want to fight?” he asked seriously, watching her closely.

She shook her head. 

“No. No I don’t.”

“Alright then. We’ll leave the fighting until after Christmas.”

“But you left,” she whispered. “So you are angry with me?”

He smiled at her gently and lied, “nah, I just have a headache. Pink was also all partied out, so I took him out–sorry, there is a pile of his turds somewhere in the garden–and then we came back here.”

Elain rubbed her cheek against his neck, breathing in his crisp, sharp scent, as she clutched his biceps, feeling her fingers tremble. The stress of thinking that he’d left her, that he got into his car and drove away suddenly hit her so hard, she shivered and felt cold sweat cover her body at once. 

“What's wrong?” he asked, feeling her tension and her unease. He tipped her chin up and looked down at her with a frown.

“Nothing,” she said. “All is good,” she stroked his arm. “All is good now.”

She sat up, still straddling him and then cupped his face in her palm. 

“Everything is good, Az. Because you are with me.”

He gave her an assessing glance, like he didn’t believe her, and then asked, “is that enough?”

“Yes. For me it is.”

She reached into her bag, which was left by the bed, and took out a small box, wrapped in a blue ribbon.

“I wanted to give you your Christmas gift.”

She blushed at the words and ducked her head shyly, handing the box to him. Azriel sat up, cocking his brow and looked at it with interest, and maybe even surprise. When she attempted to slide off him, he wrapped his arm around her hips, keeping her in place and said, “open it”.

Elain pulled on the ribbon and then opened the box. 

He looked inside and then declared with a grin, “yes, yes I will!”

“Wha…”

“It’s a ring! You are asking me to marry you?” he said definitively. “So I am saying ‘yes’,”

“My god!” she swatted at him. “That’s not what it is! You are a madman!”

“Maybe I am, or maybe I am not, but I am now an engaged madman,” he told her. “Put a ring on it, baby,” and he wiggled his finger at her.

Exasperated, Elain sighed dramatically and announced, 

“It’s for the headaches you get…that everybody gives you. It’s supposed to stimulate brain activity and specific pressure points and relieve your headaches,”

He stared at her and then laughed out loud, startling Piglet, who looked over his shoulder with a sleepy, bewildered gaze wondering what was happening.

“Sorry little lad,” Azriel patted the pug’s side. “Go back to sleep.”

“This is amazing, beautiful!” he exclaimed then. “And invaluable. Between my teammates and Cass and Rhys, this is the perfect gift!”

Elain smiled happily and added, “it’s not the only thing it does. If you press here,” she showed him, “you’ll get background noise to sleep, or drown out any other noises. I imagine that travelling with your team could get loud at times.”

“Yes, indeed,” he agreed, looking at the ring and pressing invisible buttons. 

“It measures all your vitals,” Elain added. “And tells you to sleep if you aren’t sleeping enough,”

“Where did you get this?”

“I had it custom made. Just for you.”

Azriel put the ring on his thumb and twisted his tattooed hand in front of his eyes, admiring the new bring. It was an elegant piece–black, with a silver insert.

“Do you like it?” she asked shyly, rubbing her finger over his thumb.

Azriel cupped her cheek in his hand and pulled her closer to him.

His breath fanned over her bare shoulder, when he placed a gentle kiss on it.

“You are magical, Elain Archeron. A little faery,” he whispered. “I am one lucky fucker.”

Elain snorted and scoffed, “your language is the worst!”

“Sorry, pretty girl, you’ll have to live with it for the rest of your life,” he shrugged innocently. 

“Oh is that so? The rest of my life?” 

He drew his thumb over his lower lip, his expression sobering and becoming more serious.

Elain thought that he’d go on some tangent about marriage and her being his, but instead, he said, “I wasn’t sure if I should give you your present…”

He rustled under his pillow and then pulled out a box. It was much too large for a ring, and Elain, who was waiting with bated breath, wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed. But whatever it was, she was excited to see it. 

“Stay where you are,” Azriel ordered firmly, insisting that she remain seated atop of his hips. “You may take the dress off, if you so desire,” he suggested casually.

“I’ll decide once I see what you got me,” she told him firmly and he smiled. 

“Well, happy Christmas then,” he murmured and opened the box for her. Elain’s breath skittered over his hands when she beheld a stunning diamond and sapphire necklace displayed against the cream satin of the box. It was a Vacheron Constantin no less–the finest of the finest. Not a trifling thing either–a ‘garden’ necklace of clusters of large diamonds and even larger sapphires, shaped into a chain of flowers. A gift that a husband would give his wife for the holidays (if he were a millionaire footballer that is). 

“Azriel,” she sucked in her breath, entranced by the exquisite beauty of the necklace.

He was about to unleash on her for saying ‘I couldn’t possibly’, but she beat him to it and suddenly–to his utter delight–pulled up her long curled hair and presented him with her long delicate neck. “Put it on me?”

Azriel’s head went quiet. There was something profound about this moment, with Elain allowing him to put this visible ‘collar’ around her neck–accepting him, permitting him to do that to her. For her. He moved closer: her breasts, still contained within her structured dress, pressed into his chest, and he loved the feel of them, while he wrapped his arms around her and fastened the lock of the necklace in the back of her neck.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, watching the diamonds gleam and sparkle in the low light.

“Is it too much?” she wondered, as her fingers slid over the stones.

“No. Just enough,” he decided, admiring her. “A little bouquet of diamonds and sapphires for my pretty flower girl.”

Elain's necklace

Fucking beat a crown that Rhys put on Feyre. Damn peacock. 

“May I remove this unnecessarily big dress for you?” Azriel offered smoothly, and without waiting for an answer, he found the zipper in the back of her gown.

“Az, we can’t do it!” she hissed in alarm.

“Do what, exactly?” he teased, while he slowly slid the zipper down.

Scrambling and bumbling, she muttered, “you know! that…You know what!”

“That and what, huh,” he chuckled. “It’s not like I’ve been anticipating getting laid tonight, sweetness. I mean, I’ve pretty much lost all hope by now, but,”

“Excuse me!” she exclaimed. “We’ve been dating for 3 weeks!”

“I feel like it’s been much longer, since October.” He corrected her, while opening the dress up in the back and letting it fall away from her body.

“October? October?!?!” she cried. “No way! We only met in October.”

“Well, and I’ve been dating you since I’ve met you,” he reminded her calmly. “Not sure what you’ve been doing.”

“Well, I,”

“Yeah, so it’s pretty reasonable for me to expect to have sex with my girlfriend after three months,”  he glared at her.

“I can’t!” she argued weakly. “Not with my dad in the same house…and Piglet right here,”

“Oh, bring dad into this, why don’t you! And Pinky is a dog, who cares?!”

“A dog? He isn’t a dog. He is my son!” she argued fiercely. “I gave birth to him, you know!”

“Uh-uh, did you now? I beg to differ,”

“Why is that?”

“Because I don’t remember making him, and the only son you’d be birthing would be mine,” he stated definitively. “So there is that.”

“I don’t think that’s how it is,”

“I do. But we’ll have fun making ours,” Azriel promised and gently squeezed her nipple between his fingers.

While she was pontificating about being her pug’s birth mother, Azriel managed to bare her to him and now he whistled softly to himself. 

A fine pair of full, pear-shaped breasts had tumbled from her gown and they were incredible. Azriel has had his share of peeks and glances, but even last night, when he was fingering her, she was still wearing a bra. Now, the titties were out, and before Elain could make up some excuse, he was dipping his face to them and before she could even gasp, he latched onto her nipple with his lips, pulling hard, and sucking half of her breast into his mouth. His hand wrapped around her neck–not choking her, but keeping her keen and at attention–while he circled his tongue around the nipple, as he held her on top of him firmly. Elain inhaled sharply, watching him, while he crouched in his uncomfortable position, and watched her. 

Elain was warm and soft, and her sublime tit was like melted butter on his tongue–silky and soft and rich. She felt so good in his arms, shivering every time he gave her little swollen bud another suck, his thumb stroking her lovely neck, his fingers brushing against the cold of her new necklace. He also liked the way the ring looked on his thumb. Black and sexy.

He pulled away from her breast and then licked her other nipple, nipping on it with his teeth, before biting roughly. She yipped, but he only drew his thumb over her mouth, quieting her down.

“I am not gonna fuck you tonight,” he whispered, sucking on the other nipple as well, making it nice and puffy, “only under one condition,”

“What?” she breathed sharply, her eyes wide, her skin hot in his hands.

“You are sleeping nice and naked. Next to me. Don’t care about Pink here, don’t care about dad, or anyone else. You’re sleeping naked and I am jamming my dick into her bare arse.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Ellie. Although of course you may wear the necklace.”

“Ohhh, you are so magnanimous!” she scoffed, though her fingers tangled in his hair and she very clearly enjoyed what he was doing to her. He kissed each lovely globe with small, tender kisses, then he licked around the nipples, soft and slow, savouring every bit of her skin. Elain panted and rubbed against him, the thin material of his joggers getting pleasantly damp against her pussy. 

“I am that,” he nodded in agreement and then fell back on the pillows. “Go clean up and I expect you next to me, nice and naked and wet, sharpish. Got it?”

Elain rolled her eyes, but climbed off of him and walked to the bathroom, dragging her dress around her hips, while he was chuckling an evil laugh.

While Elain was in the bathroom, Piglet woke up for a few minutes and then demanded that Azriel spoon him. Azriel moved away a bit, and Piglet moved closer, then Azriel moved again, and Piglet sidled up to him. Once Azriel got the message, he tugged the pug closer to him, but the moment he removed his hand, Piglet put his paw on his hand, indicating that he better be snuggled right this minute. So Azriel had no choice but to cuddle the dog next to his body, and Piglet put both of his paws over Azriel’s forearm, keeping him in place. Piglet was going to take full advantage of this situation–he wasn’t allowed to sleep in the same bed with his Elain and while he could nap in her bed–which he often did–sleeping overnight wasn’t permitted. Here, today, he knew he was going to sleep with her and Az, and he was going to require full-on snuggles while he was at it. As soon as he had Azriel in his possession, Piglet fell back asleep.

“Close your eyes!” Azriel heard.

He laughed.

“Absolutely not!”

“Fine, I am not coming out then.”

“You gonna sleep in the tub, Ellie-girl?”

“If I have to!”

He snorted and then said, “fine. My eyes are closed.”

“Truly?”

“Absolutely. Come on, come out.”

Elain tiptoed into the bedroom and gasped, because Azriel was snuggling with the sleeping Piglet, and had his eyes WIDE open.

“I hate you,” she moaned.

But Azriel’s big hazel eyes lit up at the sight of her and she gushed, “you are so fucking gorgeous, Ellie. I can’t believe my stupid luck.”

Elain blushed at his words and wrung her fingers nervously and she silently walked across the carpet. She had kept her word–she was completely nude except for her new gorgeous necklace. 

“You’ll have to be the biggest spoon, baby,” Azriel told her. “I’ve been made to spoon the fur son. He was cross with me when I attempted to move,”

Elain chuckled, secretly enjoying how his eye devoured her. She never considered her body to be anything remotely perfect, but the way Azriel was looking at her made her think that maybe she’d been too hard on herself. Maybe seeing her through his eyes was all she ever needed, because he saw the beauty in her that she never allowed herself to acknowledge. 

She got in bed next to him–his massive body warm and firm, exuding his innate strength, but also calmness, all the while brimming with power. It felt good. Like she was in the safest place in the world. 

“Did you like Christmas?” she asked quietly, kissing his shoulder.

“It’s a good Christmas,” he stated simply. “You and me and the dog. Well, and family, I guess.”

She laughed at that. He was very nonchalant about the ‘family’ bit.

…Surprisingly, even though there was a naked Elain in bed with him, Azriel fell asleep quickly and without any usual struggles. Perhaps, her gift was already working? Or perhaps he was in the place where he always meant to be.

When Azriel opened his eyes, bleary sunlight was already streaming through the windows. From where he lay, he could see the muted pink sunrise, pale light tentatively touching the ground in the vast park of the estate. 

He could get used to it, he thought. The life of a country gentleman: caring for his manor, a bunch of dogs and horses on the grounds, a glass of whiskey at night by the fireplace, his Elain tending to her gardens, being the lady of the house, running charities and organising their social calendar. Yes, he wouldn’t mind that at all. Wouldn’t mind railing her on the daily either. 

Elain’s gorgeous naked body was outlined by the morning light, the lovely curve of her bottom so sumptuous, Azriel had to bite his lip to keep himself from groaning out loud. She stood by the window, her foot tapping softly behind her, her long hair cascading down her back. Azriel was pleased to see that her nipples were still nicely plump and swollen from all the attention that he’d paid them overnight. 

Gently setting Piglet aside Azriel rose swiftly and sat up on the bed, rubbing his face sleepily. He inspected his leg–it looked normal now and therefore, he knew that his little holiday was coming to an end. After the new year, he was going back onto the field. His last checkup was going to be on December 28th. If he was cleared to return to playing, his first game was going to be the first week of January. And it’s not that he didn't want to return to the game–he’d missed it: his team and his boys and the thrill of the game–but he also knew that his time with Elain and Pinky would suffer once he got back on the road. And that made him sad. 

He looked at Elain again, silently observing the sensual heaviness of her breast, the pretty curve of her belly, the softness of her shoulder. With sudden, acute clarity, he also saw her standing in the same spot, but this time, with her stomach round and heavy with his baby. 

Fuuuuuck. He was feeling broody. 

He rubbed his face again, trying to shake off the image. But somehow, it was seared into his brain now. Elain glorious nakedness didn’t help him clear his mind of dreams of impregnating her and watching her get round with his son. 

At last, he stood up and walked soundlessly towards her, startling her when he brashly cupped her warm bare pussy in his hand.

“Az!” she gasped. 

He kissed her neck softly and murmured, “that’s my name, baby. Good morning, my Ellie.”

She melted against him almost immediately, her sweet arse moulding into his cock just like he wanted it. Pink didn’t budge the whole night, and as much as Azriel tried, he couldn’t spoon Elain, because the dog was in the way. Even when Azriel released him a couple of times and tried to turn on his other side, Piglet growled and then crawled over him and planted himself between their bodies. There was no escaping him.

“Our first Christmas morning together,” Azriel whispered, and buried his face in her neck, gently stroking her soft pussy, while he cupped her breast in his palm and teased her nipple lazily.

“Oh…” she breathed blissfully, “this feels so good…”

“I am here to make you feel good, Ellie. That’s going to be my full time job. Fuck football!” 

She laughed and patted his hand, “not yet. I want to have a brawny footballer as a boyfriend for a little while. Before you get all old and become a coach,”

“Old?!” he exclaimed, outraged. “I am going to be 30!”

“Yeah. Old.”

“No respect for your elders,” he shook his head.

“Oh, look, look,” Elain pointed outside, and then bounced on her toes with excitement. 

Azriel looked out, seeing that the garden was covered in fresh snow, just in time for Christmas. Out in the cold, Nesta Archeron was running laps. She was thin, ramrod straight, her hair tied in a severe ponytail. 

“She runs every morning,” Elain sighed, shaking her head. “She never misses a day. Can you imagine?”

Azriel didn’t want to remind her that he also ran every day, and exercised for a few hours too, so he simply said, “she is very dedicated.”

Elain huffed, muttering, “well, I’d rather have a cup of coffee and a croissant.”

Azriel did not doubt that one bit. But he only kissed her shoulder and her neck and caressed her silken breast in his palm. He liked his soft and plush Elain, where he could touch and squeeze her lush body to his heart’s delight, and feel her supple flesh and not a pile of bones. 

“Ohmygod,” Elain gasped. Azriel looked to see what got her so excited and then smirked with amusement. 

There was his brother, in a pair of joggers and a sleeveless hoodie, his long hair tied into a topknot, running behind Nesta. 

Cassian pounded the ground steadily and when Nesta heard him, she turned around and was clearly surprised to see him. He greeted her indifferently, like this was what he did every day. And he did–Azriel knew that Cassian ran too. But he was quite sure that Cassian wasn’t so dedicated that he’d normally run on Christmas morning. No. This was a ruse. Cassian wanted to run with Nesta.

Elain watched the two with rapt attention and then turned swiftly in Azriel’s arms and asked, “do you think he fancies her?”

“Yeah he fancies her,” Azriel confirmed simply and kissed the tip of her nose.

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure. Can’t you see?”

“You know, she never dates!” Elain exclaimed in frustration. “Never ever. And…well, I like Cassian,”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “I think he would be good for her. He is warm and funny and good.”

Azriel agreed. And Cassian would be the right person for Nesta too. He could handle her. He liked a challenge, but he was also emotionally intelligent enough to know what a woman like Nesta needed. 

“Alright,” Azriel decided, hauling Elain up in his arms, “let’s go back to bed and make out.”

-

Piglet was overheated.

Which is why he was presently lying on the cool stone tiles of the palace and was being fanned by Feyre and his Elain. They sat next to him with magazines in their hands and were frantically trying to cool him off. 

“You couldn’t have been more careful?” Feyre hissed at her husband accusingly. “And you?!” she snarled at Nesta. 

“Okay, Feyre darling, in my defence,” Rhys said pacifically, “I am not well familiar with a pug’s internal cooling system in a snowball fight,”

Elain couldn’t help but snort a laugh.

Azriel was observing all of this with a disdainful look on his face, as he shook his head.

“This damn pug is more of a diva than Mariah Carey!” he crossed his arms on his broad chest, watching the two girls on their knees, fanning–literally–over the panting dog. “Just in the last 48 hours, he ran into a wall and knocked himself out, then he attempted to poison himself with some flowers, and now he is overheated from a snowball fight. Whatever will the next 48 hours bring…” he pondered.

Dad was being mean of course, but Piglet didn’t even care. Because whatever. He had so much fun during the snowball fight that he’d do it all over again. Hey, yolo and all!

-

So this is what happened:

When Piglet woke up in the morning, it was because dad and his Elain were doing something that looked a lot like wrestling on the bed. They pushed at him, and he woke up, only for the big man–Cass–to burst through the doors the next moment and scream ‘snowball fight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’

Then all hell broke loose, because dad yelled at Cassian, who already left the room, for seeing Elain naked, and Piglet didn’t know what all the fuss was about, because he saw his Elain naked all the time and it was no big deal. He escorted her to the loo and to the bathroom pretty much all the time, just to make sure that she was okay and didn’t need his help, or that she didn’t just disappear somewhere. 

Everyone had gathered downstairs soon after. There wasn’t even breakfast! Piglet only got some water and a banana, which he had to eat in a hurry, so he trotted to the gathering holding it in his mouth. 

“Couples can’t be together!” Cassian declared loudly. 

“Why not?” Feyre demanded instantly.

“No. That’s not how it works. You can’t be with Rhys. And I can’t be with Nes,” he continued.

“We aren’t a couple,” Nesta reminded him coolly.

“But I want to be with Azriel,” Elain whined, clutching Azriel’s hand.

“Yeah,” Azriel nodded, “I wouldn’t mind being with Ellie too,”

“Like I said,” Cassian rolled over all the objections, “no couples.”

“So what do you propose we do?” Rhys demanded, tapping his fingers on his bicep impatiently.

Piglet watched the humans negotiate for a good ten minutes, while he chewed his banana and rolled his eyes. They were slow and indecisive and kind of annoying too.

“What about Piglet?” Elain exclaimed at last.

Piglet looked at all of them, challenging them with a wordless yeah, what about Piglet, indeed?

“He doesn’t have thumbs,” Rhys reminded her. “He can’t make snowballs.”

At that, Piglet huffed. 

Cassian rubbed his chin and said, “whoever gets him will have a distraction, for sure. He might come in handy actually,”

At least somebody was talking sense. 

Piglet got onto his hind leg and suggested that maybe Cassian take him on his team. But, naturally, as luck would have it, Piglet ended up on the worst team ever–with Nesta and Rhysand. They picked the short straw which egregiously meant him. 

The final breakdown was Cassian and Elain, Feyre and Azriel, and Nesta and Rhys and Piglet.

And so it began. 

Rhys had the audacity to ask Nesta “does he understand commands?”

“Yeah, when he wants to,” Nesta scoffed. “Usually when there is food involved, he is all ears. If not, then they are for decoration only.”

Piglet was upset that he wasn’t on the team with Cassian, who was hidden behind a tree with Elain, designing an honest to god tactical warfare plan. But it didn’t matter because Piglet was gonna show Rhys that he could be an important addition to the team. And he didn’t do everything for food. Like for example right now. He didn’t even have breakfast, but here he was, rushing across the field, distracting everyone, while Rhys sprung on Azriel and pummelled him with snowballs. 

Piglet crawled between bushes and then destroyed stockpiles of snowballs that Elain had made, incurring Cassian’s wrath as the big man bellowed ‘you wily little bastard!’ 

Elain wailed ‘I can’t believe you did that!’ but Piglet only rolled in the snow, completely obliterating her work, before running away.

As far as he was concerned, all was fair in love and war.

Azriel chased Nesta with snowballs, wiping her out, and while Rhys valiantly attempted to defend her, Feyre rushed across the field and kicked all of his snowballs, flattening them ruthlessly, and then ran back, followed by Rhys’s mournful scream ‘you are my wife!!!’

She shrugged and saluted him, while Cassian sprung on her and dumped heaps of snow on her head. She screamed hysterically, as the snow fell into her coat, and unsuccessfully fought back the attack.

Meanwhile, Azriel sprinted towards Elain, and basically tackled her, landing on top of her in a heap of snow. He managed to half-bury her in the pile, before she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips. Azriel melted at once, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her back, which allowed Cassian to sneak up on him and toss a bunch of snowballs at Azriel’s head.

“Sorry, petal!” he bellowed, since some of the snowballs landed on Elain as well, but she gave him a thumbs up and laughed wildly.

“I can’t believe you did that!” Azriel fake-gasped, wiping his face.

“You are defeated!” she announced. 

“Never! With Piglet’s help, Nesta and Rhys certainly had the upper hand. Piglet kept pretending to fall, or be struck by snowballs, he howled and rolled around, he also repeatedly rushed various people and successfully took them down, because they lost footing as they didn’t want to step on him. 

As much as Cassian tried to insist that the couples stay apart and not couple, by the end of the fight, Rhys found his way to Feyre, Azriel to Elain, and even Cassian draped his arm over Nesta’s shoulders (and she didn’t shrug him off). 

That’s when Piglet collapsed for real, panting within his red Arsenal jacket.

Feyre saw him in the snow and hurried to pick him up, crying loudly, ‘Piggy don’t die!! He is going to die!’

Elain was much calmer about this and told her distraught sister, ‘He won’t die. He is just hot. But we’ll need to fan him.’

“Oh and by the way, Feyre and I won,” Azriel shrugged innocently.

“I beg to differ!” Cassian argued at once.

“Yeah, according to who?” Nesta snarled at Azriel, her hands on her hips.

“Okay, let’s reassess what has taken place,” Azriel offered calmly and all of them headed back to the manor, arguing loudly about who’d actually won. 

Piglet felt like he’d won. 

-

Piglet was very pleased with his massive haul of Christmas presents. 

He received not one, not two, not three, but FOUR sticks!! Four. Excellent sticks. 

As expected, dad gave the best presents: in addition to one of the sticks, dad also got him a pack of used padded Amazon envelopes, two pairs of socks, a whole bunch of toys, a Chelsea ball and a small plush tree decorated with shiny balls, which were also soft. All for him to destroy. 

The rest of the gifts consisted of bags of treats, chewys, more balls, and piles of outfits. 

Christmas lunch was incredible and he ate ham and roast beef and then came to the conclusion that Christmas was his favourite.

Now, after closely supervising the loading of all the gifts into the car, including all four sticks, Piglet lay in his seat, having been hugged and kissed by everyone about a hundred times. He was heading home and he was hoping that everything would go just as well as it’s been going. 

-

January 6th was a surprisingly sunny day. Warm for this time of year, the apricity of sunshine dispersing the gloominess of the winter chill. The feeling in the air was almost…innocent. Full of expectation and new tidings. A new year indeed.

That didn’t stop Piglet from being put in air jail, and he was being carried by Azriel. On their morning walk today, Piglet tripped Elain by wrapping the lead around her ankles, then, once in the park, he barked and scared a baby, and then ran with some big dogs, chasing them loudly, until they turned around and began chasing them, and he dodged them, but fell off a retaining wall. After that, Azriel picked him up and now carried the pug like a baby. 

Now they were seated at The Ivy Canary Wharf and having brunch. Piglet agreed to be quiet and discreet and in return, Azriel fed him ham under the table and strawberries from the fruit salad. 

“I’ve been thinking,” Elain said slowly, sipping her Rhubarb Bellini. 

“About?” Azriel sliced into his eggs and looked at her.

“Him,” she nodded towards the dog under the table. “His leg. When we went to that vet here,”

“Yeah, I remember,” Azriel nodded.

When Piglet fake-poisoned himself on Elain’s birthday, the vet that they took him to worked in a fancy private practice. It cost Azriel 1,300 quid to get Pinky to take a laxative, but the vet told them about a new experimental treatment for dogs with missing legs. It was a robotic leg, which would sense his movements and respond accordingly, effectively working just as well as a real leg.

“So what about it?” Azriel pressed.

She didn’t answer right away, and the pause felt somehow important, pivotal. He wondered if Elain was going to ask him for input and they’d make a decision together.

Truly, it should’ve been a family decision.

He and Pinky were tight. They were besties. 

“It would be good for his joints,” Azriel told her. “Right now, his hips and shoulders are stressed because of the extra pressure that he places on them. Since you’ve been pumping him full of longevity shots, he might be living for 20 years for all we know, and you don’t want him to struggle with his joints.”

Azriel spoke from experience. He’s been running for 20 years. 

Elain pouted and muttered, “I am not pumping him full of longevity shots…”

He chuckled. 

“It’s expensive,” he added quietly. 

“I can pay,” she said quickly. “It would be worth it.”

He shrugged and offered an ambivalent nod. 

At that moment, Elain’s phone pinged with an incoming message.

It wasn’t her regular phone, but her work one, and while they typically didn’t use their phones at the table, she smiled at him apologetically and he nodded. 

Who had a matchmaking emergency on a Saturday morning?

Azriel didn’t really give a shit. His mood soured and he was playing with his eggs listlessly, internally annoyed. What did he need to do to fucking make her understand that they were a pair? A couple? What did he need to do to make her yield? It was exhausting and he was irritated and angry and dark thoughts swirled in his mind. What would it take for her to consider him her man? Her partner? Did he need to force sex on her? Steal her away? Lock her in the cage?

“...I’ll see what I can do, Gwyn,” Elain said into the phone.

Azriel had been so absorbed in his unhappy thoughts that he didn’t even notice Elain speaking to this Gwyn.

“No…I understand. I think it will be a bit of a challenge on such short notice, but I will definitely try,” Elain promised, grimacing. 

Piglet looked up at Azriel from under the table, tilting his big round head back and forth, assessing Azriel’s mood and feeling that it had changed. Azriel stroked the floppy black ears and smiled at the dog. Pinky was the only one who understood him. Pinky was the one other being obsessed with Elain besides Azriel, but Elain was also devoted to the dog, and wasn’t devoted to Azriel quite as much.

She put the phone down, her brows knitted. 

“What’s going on?” he queried, taking a sip of his coffee.

Elain waved her hand and replied, “oh nothing. Just a client, in a bit of a bind,”

“What kind of bind can you be in as a matchmaker’s client? That you need to ring on a Saturday morning?”  Azriel was actually genuinely curious because it sounded so ridiculous.

Elain leaned back in her chair and explained, “she is a client and I’ve been having the hardest time matching her with anyone,”

“Why? She ugly? A psycho?”

“My god. Not everyone is an ugly psycho, you know!” she seethed.

“I feel like most people who use a matchmaker probably are,” he noted callously, still annoyed about the robotic leg situation. 

 “Are you an ugly psycho?” she snapped.

He shrugged and looked at his mangled hands, considering for a bit, before saying, “not ugly. But definitely a psycho.”

“Anyway,” Elain grunted.

“Tell me. I want to understand this matchmaking emergency! Indulge me,” he beckoned, smirking.

Elain scoffed at him and his attitude, but nevertheless, began explaining,

“She is a lovely person, really. Very smart,”

“Sorry baby, but this is not a selling point,” he huffed an amused laugh. “You come at a bloke with a ‘I’d like to match you with a very smart woman’ and he immediately starts wondering just how smart she is and would he measure up?”

“So what you are telling me is that you are intimidated by smart women?” she crossed her arms on her chest and glowered at him. “Only airheads for you?”

He drank his coffee lazily, enjoying her anger and then said, “Nah, baby. I ain’t intimidated by nothing. Bring on all the smarts. See, you ain’t an airhead and I am dating you. So I think that I am all good. What about this lass though? What does she do?”

“She is pursuing her PhD in Classics and Philosophy at Cambridge,”

“Jesus,” he breathed. “No wonder you can’t set her up. She sounds like a bundle of laughs.”

“You are so judgy!” she gasped.

“You have no idea,” he confirmed, smiling widely. “And yet it doesn’t stop me from being with you–the Queen of Pearls and Cardigans.”

Elain rolled her eyes and muttered, “I hardly ever wear cardigans! And my pearls are heirlooms, are worth a ton of money and will be passed on to my daughters,” she told him in a firm and decisive tone.

Azriel shrugged and said, “That's fine by me, as long as I get to make these daughters with you, you may give them all the pearls.”

“No comment.”

“So no one wants to hook up with the Cambridge scholar then?”

Elain sighed deeply and gulped on her drink, “she is very picky! And not even so much about the men…but how they’d fit into her life. She isn’t moving from the university and she is very determined to finish her degree–which I absolutely understand. But that makes everything very challenging, because there aren’t many men who want to give up their own lives and careers to be with a woman. Because she’d definitely end up in academia for the rest of her life with a degree like that. So, it would have to be someone who is so completely independent that he wouldn’t care. Or another Cambridge scholar.”

“You are running short on those?”

“I know you are joking,” she was shaking her head in defeat, “but it’s very difficult. She’d need a man like you: someone whose career isn’t stationary and who wouldn’t depend on her.”

“Running short of available footballers too?” he teased. “But what does she need from you right now?” he insisted, making a show of the bustling Ivy on a Saturday morning. 

“She has an event that she needs to attend. She is a keynote speaker. It’s a formal gala,”

“Let me guess, she needs a man by her side? To show she isn’t a lonesome singleton?” he laughed.

“Basically. Yes,” Elain confirmed.

“So I guessed correctly.”

“And how the heck am I supposed to find that?” 

She sighed dramatically and added, “I am almost ready to give up on her and tell her that I am unable to find her a match…It would be my first,”

“I’ll go,” Azriel said suddenly.

She started and looked at him wide eyed, “What do you mean?”

He shrugged and repeated, “I’ll go. I’ll go to the gala with your boring scholar. I’ll wear the tux and I’ll escort her around and shit…”

“But,” Elain began, sounding uncertain. Azriel was pretty blase about his proposal.

“What? What’s the big deal? Besides, don’t I owe you one last fake date or whatever?”

“They weren’t fake dates!” she protested.

“Nuala was okay,” he allowed. Then shuddered demonstratively and murmured, “Mor, not so much.”

Elain thought about his offer. She wasn’t crazy about it–he was her boyfriend, after all. Or was he still a client? Or both? Gah! This was so frustrating. Even thinking about Azriel escorting another woman, even one as romantically clueless as Gwyn, made Elain uncomfortable and genuinely jealous. It was crazy, of course. Azriel was totally devoted to her, and absolutely paid no attention to any other women. Even right now, in the restaurant, some very pretty women walked by and while other men gave them a once over, Azriel only had eyes for Elain and for Piglet, who was now sleeping on his shoe. 

“Jealous, beautiful?” he snickered.

“No! I am not!” she argued defensively.

“Think about it. I am your failed case, so is she. Your two failures, fake-dating for one evening. Face it, it’s kind of poetic.”

“You're not my failure,” Elain glared at him, but her tone was soft and loving. 

“No?”

“You are…you are actually my,” she swallowed hard. 

He was watching her closely, waiting.

“My win,” she concluded. “My reward.”

-

Gwyneth Berdara.

27 years old. PhD candidate in Classics and Philosophy at Cambridge University. Part-time lecturer at Cambridge, otherwise previously unemployed. Moved to London from Inverness, Scotland to attend university. 

Attended a Catholic preparatory school. Initially intended to become a nun.

No previous relationships.

Hobbies: yoga, meditation, pilates, travelling, reading

Azriel read the profile while sitting in Elain’s office. He exhaled a long breath, internally cringing. A nun? A fucking nun?

Supposedly Elain wasn’t a virgin–he was yet to check on that–but this one…yeah, this one definitely was. Not that he cared, but it made him wonder how he was getting set up, even for one evening, with such odd specimens.  

Frankly, this girl needed someone like Elain. Because otherwise, how was she ever going to find a boyfriend? What would be the opening line? ‘Hello, my name is Gwyn and I wanted to be married to Jesus!”

Anyways, he wasn’t here to judge. He was just getting instructions. 

Elain was plenty jumpy as it is, so he wasn’t going to aggravate the situation. 

As it turned out, Gwyn was a keynote speaker, she was also receiving some scholarly award (Azriel didn’t care, so he didn’t ask for any details). The gala was being held at the Museum of Natural History, the dinner was cooked by some of Britain's best chefs and it promised to be quite the event. There would be dancing, a silent auction and all the proceeds were going to go to some animal sanctuary. Azriel hoped that it was going to go to some pug sanctuary.

Elain had informed him that there weren’t many pug sanctuaries out there, which, Azriel, felt was an omission.

Azriel kept most of his comments to a minimum. He knew that it was ridiculous, but somehow, this whole proposal now sounded a bit like cheating. And he regretted having come up with the idea. It was stupid, and he shouldn't have done it, but now, it was too late to back out.

“Okay, you will pick her up at 4:30 pm on Saturday. She needs to be onsite earlier than the rest of the attendees,” Elain was explaining, “because she has to prepare. Cocktails are at 6 pm, and then dinner is at 7 pm.”

He nodded.

“You know you are my girl, right?” he asked suddenly, and when Elain glanced from her tablet at him, his expression was almost…desperate. Pleading. 

She smiled softly at him and nodded,

“I know.”

“I probably shouldn’t be doing this,” he muttered.

“It’s okay. I am not jealous,” she assured him. “I trust you.”

-

But maybe Elain shouldn’t have? Trusted him, that is.

-

The next time she spoke with Gwyn Berdara was on Sunday morning following the gala.

‘How did it go?” she inquired, once Gwyn picked up the phone.

“Elain, it was wonderful!” Gwyn chirped excitedly. “I had a brilliant time! Thank you for setting me up with Azriel. He was–is–incredible!”

Umm

Setting her up?

Did she not understand that this was a one-evening only sort of a deal? Elain thought that she’d been clear about this arrangement. One gala. One evening. That’s all.

“I mean, I am not a footie fan,” Gwyn continued saying, “but even I’ve heard of Azriel Night! And honestly when you told me that it would be him, I was unsure. But he was…’ she seemed to be lost for words. “Well, he is lovely, isn’t he? Great manners. Excellent dancer!”

Yes, Elain didn’t argue, he was all of those things, but didn’t Gwyn understand that it was an act? Azriel was rough around the edges, with a potty mouth, a dry, taunting, sarcastic sense of humour, full of abrasive comments and inappropriate innuendo. That’s how Azriel was. He wasn’t some dark gallant knight. Yes, his manners were fine, and he could hold his own in any company, and he knew how to dress smartly and hold a conversation, but Elain knew the ‘real’ Azriel. And she loved the real Azriel. 

“Gwyn, I…” she began saying, but Gwyn interrupted her.

“Thank you, Elain. I didn’t think it was going to happen, and that you’d be able to find someone for me, but you truly are a miracle worker!”

“Gwyn, are you sure that Mr. Night is…interested?” Elain didn’t know how to ask her politely. She didn’t add ‘in you’. 

“Well, yes! I know we initially thought that he’d just be there for the gala, but I want to see where it will go. I don’t know yet, it’s so new, but,”

“I don’t think he is available!” Elain blurted out, feeling confused and anxious. 

“Oh, I know. Not now,” Gwyn laughed. “He is playing today! I am going to watch the game–for the first time,”

She didn’t even like football! 

Piglet trotted into the room, wearing his Arsenal shirt. He was ready for the game too.

“Well, thanks again,” Gwyn said, “I’ll keep you posted on how things go.”

As soon as she hung up, Elain frantically texted ‘ring me!’ and then she added more ‘!!!!!!!’

She knew that Azriel was prepping for the game right now and wouldn’t be available right away, but he’d ring right before, so she could wish him a good game. And she always sent him a photo of Piglet in his kit.

Only this time, Azriel did not call back.

[burningfairytales]

In honour of our favourite ace’s birthday, lemme dump this bit of unedited writing on you.

Happy Birthday, Bokuto!

They make it through the first two rounds of the Interhigh Qualifiers with ease.

Really, it’s almost too easily. Konoha is expecting something to go wrong at literally any moment.

They’re the last ones on the morning of their second day, because Bokuto insisted on checking the merchandise stand before their first match, and even though he’d whined and asked Akaashi to join him, their vice-captain had insisted that at least one of them should be with the team, and had trusted Konoha to “reign him in before he spends too much money, Konoha-san. Thank you for your hard work.”

He’s prepared to drag Bokuto to the arena kicking and screaming, which it turns out he doesn’t have to, because Bokuto is actually excited for their match, and goes willingly with one more t-shirt and two matching keychains in his hand.

(The t-shirt, of course, is as ridiculous as any he’s ever bought, with the English words ‘POWER UP’ in big bold letters on its front. The keychains are of Vabo-chan, which fine, Konoha understands, but does Bokuto really need two?)

The other shoe drops when they’re making their way down the hall and towards the arena, and really, Konoha’s been waiting for it to happen - it’s just that he’s been expecting Bokuto to go all depressed over something small again, something laughable, something to joke about with the others, maybe tease Bokuto about afterwards.

He’s not expecting to come across two players from the team they’re about to face, standing a few metres away and talking, loudly, about Fukurodani.

Or rather, their captain.

“Have you seen their captain, though? Doesn’t he feel a bit… useless?”

He isn’t expecting the way Bokuto freezes for a moment, the way his shoulders slump imperceptibly, how he seems to shrink in on himself.

“I know! He looks strong and all, but I heard he sometimes messes up the simplest of plays.”

A chuckle.

“Maybe the team would be better off without him.”

The hallway is quiet when they leave, and Konoha glances at Bokuto from the corner of his eye. And it looks a bit like someone had poured salt into an open wound or found a bruise to poke at, the way Bokuto presses his lips together, wincing at a phantom pain, like his heart is bleeding.

“Hey, Owlhead,” Konoha starts. “You know they’re just talking sh-”

“Konoha,” Bokuto interrupts, straightening. Throws him a brittle smile, his lip quivering. It’s the saddest goddamn thing Konoha has ever seen. “I’m going on ahead, okay? Akaashi was right, I should have stayed with the team. Gotta warm up and all!”

His laugh lacks all his usual enthusiasm, and he turns, making his way towards the arena.

Konoha watches him go, watches the bow of his head, the downward pull of his shoulders as if he’s carrying something heavy.

Bokuto is ridiculous. He’s too enthusiastic, gets discouraged too easily. He’s simpleminded, and a bit of an airhead, and Konoha teases him for it often - but Bokuto is his teammate. Konoha knows he can joke about it because the things he says aren’t one hundred percent true, and he’s not always one hundred percent serious.

He can joke about it because he knows that Bokuto knows that.

But that just now, that was something else.

Konoha clenches his fist. He turns on his heel, following the other two players in the direction of the bathroom. Anger tightens his chest, sizzles in his gut, hot and dizzying.

“Hey, you!” He calls, when he catches up with them. “I heard you talking shit about our captain!”

The two of them look at each other and then at him. One of the two shrugs, unimpressed.

“So?” He asks. He’s the taller of the two, probably taller than Konoha. “He just seems like a bit of an idiot.”

Konoha grits his teeth. How dare they?

How dare they?

He’s in front of them before his brain even registers the movement, grabbing the taller one’s collar and shoving him against the wall.

“You don’t talk about him that way,” he grits out. “You don’t know him.”

“H-hey,” the shorter one says, his voice suddenly small. “Don’t take it personally. It’s not like we were talking about you.”

But it is personal. It is personal in a way Konoha doesn’t deign to explain because they have no idea how their team works. They don’t know half the stupid shit Bokuto pulls, or the way he’s there for his team when one of them needs him. They don’t know that he keeps stealing their food when they go out to eat, or the ongoing prank war with Nekoma High that Bokuto puts all his effort into winning. They don’t know how he makes sure they all know that it’s not their fault when they lose a match. They don’t know how he pushes them - encourages them to try harder, give it their all.

They don’t know shit.

He considers, for a moment, the consequences of punching one of them, just for the sake of it. Considers if it’s worth the suspension that’s likely to come his way. But just as he decides he’ll just have to risk it, a voice stops him.

“Konoha-san.” Akaashi stands at the end of the hallway. His back is straight, his hands hang loosely at his side. “We’re waiting for you.” His voice is quiet; calculated. “Let’s join the others, shall we?”

With a long exhale, Konoha lets go. Takes a final look at the two and almost laughs at the relief on their faces, because really, they have no idea.

That Akaashi’s calm demeanour shouldn’t at all be reassuring to them - that the fact he keeps his hands at his side betrays his anger, because it’s likely a conscious decision, or else he would be fiddling his fingers. That his quiet is the lethal kind.

Akaashi probably took one look at Bokuto’s deflated form, came to find Konoha two seconds away from throwing punches, and most likely realised exactly what must have happened.

They don’t know that their calm, collected vice-captain doesn’t get angry - he gets even.

“You don’t know us,” Konoha repeats, this time with a smirk. “But you’re about to.”

***

He tells the others what happened while Akaashi is off in the corner warming up with Bokuto - speaking to him most likely, while doing the thing that never fails to cheer him up: spiking Akaashi’s tosses.

Komi glares daggers over the net, looking just as ready as Konoha to drag them out of the arena and settle things off-cours. Washio frowns, and Onaga keeps sneaking worried glances at their captain. Saru’s mouth is drawn downwards in an unhappy line.

Their collective anger isn’t surprising, of course. Bokuto is their teammate, too.

“Let’s show them what we’ve got,” Komi says, a fist in the air. “They won’t get away with this.”

“I have an idea.” Akaashi’s voice is quiet as he approaches, like the subtle cracking of ice before an avalanche. “It’s a bit unorthodox.”

Behind them, Bokuto is talking to their coach, but he seems at least in somewhat higher spirits than before. Konoha wonders what it would be like, to have whatever these two have going on. To know and understand each other so completely.

“Let’s hear it!” Komi says.

“It might be a bit difficult to pull off,” Akaashi says slowly, “And it certainly won’t be very nice.”

Konoha laughs. “Akaashi, haven’t you heard? We’re not very nice people.”

***

Unorthodox is a good word to describe Akaashi’s sets - none of them could be considered textbook, which makes them anything but predictable.

He dumps the ball over the net not once, but twice, sets the ball to Konoha even though the blockers are on his side, and throws him a look that clearly says, I expect you to get around that.

Konoha snorts as he jumps. No pressure or anything.

Luckily, the blockers apparently aren’t expecting that bold a move either, because they’d already taken a few steps to the other side of the net, and are scrambled to get back into position just a second too late.

He scores, and laughs at the sheer audacity.

Most notably, Akaashi lets Bokuto spike however he seems to want to, even though he would normally try to reign him in - there’s a particularly bold backrow set that Konoha has to admit is actually kind of impressive. Not that he’s about to say that out loud.

(“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi calls between sets, “You haven’t used a single feint this tournament. Not today or yesterday.”

“Huh? Yeah, I guess? Do you think I should?”

“I think,” Akaashi says, and his smile is lethal, “I think it might be fun.”

Konoha shudders. He really, really doesn’t want to get on Akaashi’s bad side.)

By the end of the second set, Bokuto is back to his old self, laughing and whooping with every scored point.

He does use a feint then, cheerfully tips the ball over the blocker’s hands, punches the air in victory with an emphatic, “hey, hey, hey!” when it hits the floor on the other side of the net.

Konoha catches the smile on Akaashi’s lips as he watches Bokuto - warm and proud and so full of something else, something big and overwhelming that it catches Konoha off-guard. But before he can blink, Akaashi has already schooled his features into careful indifference, turning back towards the net.

Oh, Konoha thinks, as the puzzle pieces fall into place.

Oh.

***

It’s probably the most unconventional they’ve ever played - definitely the most risky, and, dare he say - the most fun, too. He’s sure Coach Yamiji will have words with them later, but for now, Konoha doesn’t care.

They didn’t just win - to put it in Bokuto’s terms, they crushed their opponents.

***

“Konoha!” Bokuto throws an arm around him, and Konoha allows it, just this once. “Let’s go get Yakiniku tonight, to celebrate, okay?”

“Sure.” Konoha shrugs. “As long as you’re paying, Captain.”

“Eh! Uh. Hmm….” Several emotions flit over Bokuto’s face. “Okay, yeah. Sure. We deserve it. Yeah!”

And then he bounces off. “Akaashi!” He calls, “Help me pay for Yakiniku later!”

With the advantage of hindsight, Konoha supposes it’s obvious. He watches how Akaashi’s focus shifts the second he hears Bokuto call for him. How his entire body turns in the direction of his voice before he’s even finished what he’s doing, like it doesn’t have a choice but to move, the pull of Bokuto commanding its movement like some sort of gravitational force.

He sees how Akaashi’s entire demeanour changes - it’s nothing obvious, nothing someone not from Fukurodani would even notice. But Konoha, like everyone else on the team, is practised in the art of recognising their setter’s subtle shifts, and so he sees:

The small, upward quirk of his lips, his open posture, how he reaches out and lightly touches Bokuto’s wrist with two fingers - Akaashi, who never initiates any physical contact with anyone.

Everything about him becomes softer the second he lays eyes on Bokuto. The same way, Konoha supposes, reviewing these past two years in his head, the same way Bokuto is softer around Akaashi than with anyone else on the team as well.

How did it take him this long to notice, he wonders, when it’s right there, written plainly on Bokuto’s face, and in the curve of Akaashi’s shoulders.

***

On the bus ride home, Bokuto stops at nothing to point out how amazing they were today. He mentions almost every one of Saru’s spikes and Washio’s blocks, compliments Komi on his receives and recreates Konoha’s plays with exaggerated hand gestures and dramatic flourish.

It’s completely ridiculous, in the way Bokuto always is, and Konoha feels his own chest with pride anyway. Komi high-fives Saru, and Onaga chuckles behind them.

Next to Bokuto, Akaashi catches Konoha’s eye and gives a subtle nod. Konoha smirks.

And this - this is why their team isn’t better off without Bokuto - not that Konoha is ever about to tell him that. Because Bokuto always tries his hardest, whether it’s during a game or off-court, whether it’s about volleyball or lifting their spirits. Because he reminds them of their strengths and still dares them to do better.

Because he is theirs, for better or for worse, and they will always, always rally behind him.

[galeorderbride]

Could I request headcanons for Dark Urge (good-aligned), Geraldus, Astarion, Gale, Wyll, and Halsin with GN Tav who is a martial pacifist please?

Finally, I bring happy tidings in the form of your requested headcanons. I seriously hope you enjoy them, and thank you so much again for your patience <3

I gave Durge GN pronouns as well, just a note.

HCs below the cut, much love xx

Some allusions to romance, but T rating for all

Headcanons for Geraldus, Astarion (spawn), Gale, Wyll, Halsin, and Durge (in that order); Tav as a Martial Pacifist

Geraldus: 

Geraldus would admire someone like this deeply. Tav, representing the grace, confidence and strategy that he believes Harpers should emulate. Traits he tries to achieve but sometimes feels that he falls short on. Especially after the fight at Danthelon’s. Survivor’s guilt would plague his mind a lot after that, and a strong motivation to prove to Jaheira and everyone he cares about that he could do his new job with honour. He wishes he could embody such a tactical way of encountering others of various temperaments.

Perhaps that’s what draws him to Tav. A self assuredness that anyone would be charmed by. And he’d be just as good at Tav’s side in a fight. Given how skilled he is with a bow when they fought those doppelgängers. The two of them would make a good pair, Tav knowing when to choose the battles, and Geraldus swooping in with those archery skills. Eventually, he’d get used to being at Tav’s side, and his confidence in himself would improve, as would his abilities as a Harper. 

Astarion (Spawn):

In all honesty, Astarion wouldn’t care for this attitude much. Not right away, anyway. When he’s absorbed in the need for revenge for all that Cazador did to him, he’d find difficulty in understanding Tav’s general pacifism. This is boring to him, unsatisfying even if it’s a bit more pragmatic. A martial pacifist Tav and Astarion might not even get along that well at first. Suffice it to say, their attitudes toward life tend to—clash. 

This wouldn’t last forever, though. Tav’s peaceful side also implies patience, an understanding that a lot of Astarion’s irritation comes from pain. Once Cazador is defeated and Astarion can begin to heal, he will see the value a little more in how Tav chooses their battles and wishes to cooperate instead of fight. That very patience is what would drive them closer as friends. 

Not to say he wouldn’t get a kick out of the times Tav fights back though, he’d remember those moments fondly. 

Gale: 

Gale isn’t the type to be confrontational for no good reason. He has a value for words and believes deeds reflect the character who performs them. He says it himself when entering the Grove that helping Zevlor with Kagha is a good idea, or, ‘the diplomatic approach’ as he calls it. So, he’s pretty impressed with Tav’s abilities to keep peace early on. Before Elminster charms him, he’s happy to avoid fights or stressful situations anyway, given he doesn’t know when the orb could detonate. 

But Gale has a bit of a wicked side, taking unexpected pleasure in seeing Tav exercise the last resort: fighting. The Shadowlands would force Tav’s hand in heavy combat, pushing off phantoms and cursed harpers in the emerald darkness of Reithwin. At the end of it all, when everyone is taking their breath and Gale sees them covered in viscera and sweat, his growing crush grows into strong desire. Enamoured by Tav’s tactical approach, as capable of swinging a sword as they are in the skill of word. 

Wyll: 

The best thing about Wyll is that, in some ways, he is also a martial pacifist. With those warlock charisma levels, it’s no surprise that he can talk himself out of a situation as adequately as he could fight his way through. Tav and Wyll would be an absolute dream team throughout the journey! Getting along well through conflict but also times of relaxation, sitting around the campfire exchanging stories of past adventures. 

These two learn a lot from each other and it brings them closer. He appreciates a person who can rise above themselves for the greater good, whether they’re angry, vengeful or saddened. To understand that peaceful resolution can get someone even more than fighting them. But he’s also gifted with the sword, enjoys the adrenaline of battle when it comes down to it. Much like Tav, he knows the balance between love and war. 

Halsin: 

Despite his size, the man is not a fighter. Not that he isn’t capable, but that he simply prefers balance to chaos. As is the nature of most Druids. While Halsin struggled with the constant politicking of being Archdruid, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t value the other preservation of peace through words and negotiation. He wouldn’t believe himself to be charismatic enough to manage it himself, certainly not in the way Tav would throughout their adventure. But he would feel confident in Tav’s reliability that shows in their implicit pacifism. Because of this, he’d prefer the ‘pacifist’ side more than the ‘martial’. 

He’d appreciate Tav’s confidence in fighting in the Shadow Cursed Lands. A place that demands combat all the time, not many opportunities to talk one’s way out (at least until they reach Moonrise). But Tav pushes through, helping Halsin break the curse he’s been studying for a century. The rugged journey of finding Thaniel in the Shadow veil is not fit for the faint of heart. And after fighting off undead monsters, only to help Halsin bring Thaniel to camp, the friendly giant has nearly no choice but to fall for Tav. 

Durge (Redeemed): 

Good-aligned Durge wants to be good, but at the beginning of their journey, they have no idea where to start. Bloody urges still fester in their brain despite the tadpole’s influence, and pushing them away is definitely harder than giving in. Honestly, Durge might have initially learned to cool their head and de-escalate violence from Tav when they first met. Watching Tav go through stressful situations with confidence, never losing their temper even when the moment begs for rage. Durge would envy that ability, even to the point of madness as Tav seems to do it so effortlessly, slinking into the background as if they weren’t battling with themselves. 

Nights by the fire with Tav would be the real ticket to Durge admiring them rather than being jealous. Maybe even become entirely attached, as Tav would be understanding and helpful when Durge becomes downtrodden by fighting their ancestral desires, wondering if they’ll ever be able to change despite forcing themselves to be peaceful. Eventually, when Durge frees themselves from the clutches of Bhaal for good, they’d credit Tav as teaching them about the kind of person they want to be from then on.

[still-breathing-au-p3r]

The last day of exams always held a sense of relief. The finish line to cross, or the light to re-emerge into, or the surface to swim towards from the depths, depending on who you asked. A sign of hell on earth finally coming to an end. Akihiko’s been doing this for three years now, and for the first time, he feels none of that relief. 

How can he? The hell he’s been living in has nothing to do with equations or essays or memorizing vocabulary. The last two weeks have been the worst in recent memory– only the murky stretch of time after Miki died even compares.

He had managed at least to finish his final test early, faster than everyone else in class. The teacher in charge of keeping an eye on them all had given him a strange look, but he accepted the test regardless and Akihiko was free to leave, early or not.

He isn’t confident in his scores, but right now he really couldn’t care less. 

Now he’s back at the hospital, right where he’s spent the majority of his time since the last full moon. If he wasn’t at school, or sleeping or bathing, he was here: in this box with Shinji and the phantom of a hypothetical cat as they hovered between ‘alive’ and ‘dead’ (that thought experiment hadn’t even come up on the damn test, which he finds unaccountably irritating).

It was a menial schedule. He studied, he ordered takeout, he did some shadow boxing now and then just to let off some steam. Sometimes he talked to the other team members when they were visiting. And he waited for Shinji to wake up.

He knows it isn’t healthy to devote all of his free time to this. He does. But Akihiko had meant what he’d said to Mitsuru: he doesn’t want Shinji to wake up alone.

There’s a nurse switching out Shinji’s IV line when Akihiko comes into the room today. It’s the same nurse that’s always here, he thinks. The nurse offers a cursory greeting, and Akihiko greets him back. He finishes his task and leaves, and Akihiko and Shinji are left by themselves.

The long silence that follows weighs heavy, just like always. Akihiko doesn’t know what to do with himself. He sits there, lost in thought, for at least a half hour.

Akihiko’s never really been one for words. He’s always lets his actions, and his fists, do the talking for him. But in this situation, that just isn’t an option. 

Words are all he’s been left with, and yet he’s barely said anything to Shinji since he was admitted. What would be the point in talking to someone who can’t respond? He’s been told by nurses, by his mother, even by Takeba, that Shinji might be able to hear him, but he just doesn’t see how that can be true.

But the strain of it all– the lack of sleep, the hours of silence, the endless uncertainty, the vertigo-inducing moments of adjustment whenever he crosses the boundary between this room and the rest of the world– must be loosening his tongue. Akihiko finds that the words just spill out.

He digs his fingers into the fabric of his slacks.

The memory of Shinji practically spitting poison in his face still makes his blood boil. Where did he get off demanding Ahikiho stop worrying about him– right after admitting to taking those drugs that had cut his life expectancy off at the knees (or at least not denying it, which was as close to admitting anything as he could almost ever get out of the stubborn jackass). 

Akihiko gets up to pace. His skin crawls and burns, his muscles feel like they’re squirming underneath. He needs to move, he needs to get this out, or he’s going to lose his mind.

He stops, his back to the bed and its occupant. He can’t even face Shinji right now.

Tears sting at the backs of his eyes. He grits his teeth and tries his damnedest not to let them fall. Even now, talking about the night that took Miki hurts like the ends of a broken bone grinding against each other– deep and jagged and nauseating. He lets out a shaky breath and bows his head, pressing a hand over his eyes.

God. He needs to get ahold of himself. The last thing he wants is for a nurse to walk in and see him like this.

[carterstarlight25]

Hi everyone! So I been thinking hard on a rather unique 3way crossover that I been considering about writing. Please feel free to give me your input.

The 3 way crossover consist of DC x DP x Halo Infinite. With the ships being Jason and Danny (Obviously). Master Chief and Bruce as the second ship to be included. And Tim Simping for Katrina. (Cortana 2.0 from Infinite)

I see these possible dynamics being cute as Chief will learn how to be human, and how to love. Him and Team Phantom Finding Family. Also I don't mean the bull Chief pulled in the god awful Halo TV Show!

Bruce will learn that killing isn't an act of God. It isn't you kill once, and become a mindless murderer. That there is a difference, between a Soldier doing his duty to protect humanity and his loved ones. And a mindless killer, enjoying the horror of its victims as the bleed out with please for mercy. Effectively stealing their innocent lives... Oh also learn to not be as emotionally constipated after Katrina effectively out smarts him into a therapy session with Jazz Nightingale. (Last name changed after she saved Danny from the their parents lab…)

Danny will learn what it means to be apart of a family. And how screwed the GIW are.~

Jason, finds out he’s ghost pregnant and a heavy underdeveloped Halfa. All while the Pit becomes a full ghost that he ends up birthing. Which is gonna be a Dinosaur that will be Jason’s “Nightmare.” To his Fright Knight. (I am really wanting to go for Altispinax, or Spinax Vivosaur from Fossil Fighters series. But idk, might just use the Giga from Jurassic World Dominion. Just to change it up from what I seen people have the Pits become.

How Chief comes into the story however, would be introduced via Clockwork leaving a very obviously placed Halo Infinite Xbox Game case with a unmarked disc inside it. In an Alley Danny was taking refuge in. With a sticky note of course. And a few chapters in, when he was alone in Wayne Manor decided to play the game. And by Play. I mean go ghost and jump into the game. But of course. With his Fabulous Phantom Luck (trademark pending.) A new power began to make itself known as the code latched on him on his way out. Bringing Master Chief and Katrina to life in the real world, with all his memories and Katrina with the entire UNSC Database.)

While that’s how I plan to bring in Chief and Co. the main gist of this will be an all out battle, to destroy the GIW. Outlaws, Sirens, Chief and the entire Batfam Team up.

Despite the JL repealing the Anti Ecto Acts. A few Private donors continue to find them to get their hands on Ectoplasm. The League of Assassin’s, Lex Luthor. And of Course Vlad Masters will be the main villains connected to the GIW.

I can see Jason and Chief getting along like wildfire. And when Bruce finds out Jason is one leading the squad his kids, trying to get them to go on a date with Master Chief. It leads to some funny moments I would think. And of course can’t forget Chief reluctantly surprise appearance in Civies at one of Bruce’s Gala’s. (I kinda wanna make him wear Olive Green suit and dress pants. Black Bow Tie with a white under suit. Black belt. And an Olive Green Military Cap to hide his Neural Implant. Maybe having all his Medals from the service pinned to his chest. At least the ones that match ones in this universe. So not all of them obviously.

And Jason would absolutely catch his father freeze up when he sees the handsome Spartan.

For looks regarding Chief’s face since we don’t know what he looks like. I was thinking Caucasian Male, short brown hair that could be the right height to spike it up at least. Not a complete buzz cut. Rather bright blue eyes. That do not glow like Danny’s. But at least around that color. Of course he will have some scars on his left Temple, his lip and across his right eye. Freckles too. His muscle mass would of course be a bit more built then Jason. Which says something. But, you know. Super Soldier and all. (Update: I did in-fact Draw it ^^. If you want to see. Let me know if you wanna see Master Chief in a suit at the Gala ^^)

The Ages I was gonna go for was as follows.

Alfred: Immortal (Thanks Clockwork!)

John (Master Chief): 46yrs (I know it’s not his cannon Age. But it’s what I want for the story.)

Bruce: 45yrs

Barbara: 29yrs

Dick: 26yrs

Jazz: 21yrs

Jason: 21yrs

Cass: 20yrs

Sam: 20yrs

Danny: 19yrs

Duke: 19yrs

Steph: 19yrs

Tucker: 19yrs

Val: 19yrs

Tim: 18yrs

Ellie: 14yrs

Damien: 12yrs

Katrina: 6 months old

And that’s the little Fanfic I been thinking about. Of course it’s just an idea. but I think it would be fun to write.

[cuupidsss]

Can I request an sbg x fem reader one-shot who has the powers of winter from aespa's new Supernova mv in the phantom world, but the drawback is that she gets sick and vomits blood + she has lucky girl syndrome (which means she's lucky asf)

Or

A sbg x gn reader who is like emu otori from wonderlandxshowtime and she is the captain of the dance team + and has the fighting technique of mizuki just search up "mizuki wrestler" on tiktok.

I’m doing the second one because I’m inlove with the cute theme soo.. hope you like it ^_^

— I also added the lucky girl syndrome for this cause it fits a little, I would take your first request but it takes SO MUCH more research, I’ll find a time to do it though. ❤️

How could they truly react to you? When they had first met you their first impressions went well to say the least. You were bubbly and expressive and now or less extroverted. You were giggly aswell and it was hard to deny how you were a little ditzy sometimes.

Everyday at school you were always in a good mood, they never caught you in a bad one. At first when the phantom realm thing started they thought that it didn’t happen to you. They didn’t see you for the first or second time they went, it confused them, it truly did. You went to the sorrel weed house to? So how come it didn’t affect you.

They soon came to realize that was not the case. They saw you one day, running towards them and waving. Ashlyn was the first to react, it was only a couple minutes into the second day and you were just so happy to be here? Taylor ran towards you and you both hugged, even though you all aren’t close. Tyler and Ben were more or less standing awkwardly but Tyler looked a little upset. Aiden was just being.. Aiden? He was asking you some dumb questions and poking you. Logan looked concerned but everyone was overall okay.

You were really tired, you rubbed your eyes as they asked and harassed you with their concerned. You gave them a odd face and just shrugged.

“I don’t know! Lol?” You said with a little smile, they all suddenly had straight faces and Taylor giggled at how lost you sounded. “Those blob things were scary though!” You sounded so shocked, but not scared… at all.

You guys had been going to the realm for a couple days after this silly incident and they hadn’t really seen you fight, they all figured you couldn’t, Ashlyn decided that you guys might aswell see her parents to train. It could benefit all of you.

They were shocked, very shocked. ON HOW YOU REFUSED. Why didn’t you want to do it? It would literally benefit all of them. Tyler had the most negative reaction.

“Come on, this would help all of us! You’ll just drag us down if you can’t defend yourself!” He said something like that, practically saying you were dead weight if you couldn’t be of use. It didn’t hurt you to much, you knew what he meant to say and yet it didn’t affect you.

You decided to tell them you would accompany them, and accompany you did. When they asked one more time if you wanted to take your turn at getting your ass beat you said.

“No thank you!” And smiled sheepishly, “I already have sports I do like wrestling, I don’t need to learn anymore stuff!” The whole group went silent.

“Why didn’t you tell us that before?” Tyler asked. You didn’t hear him very well, it sounded like mumbling.

“Huh? What was-“ “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US THAT BEFORE?” His reaction was sort of funny, but you just kind of stood there all silly and blinked sheepishly.

You and Aiden get along pretty well, but you’ve had your creative differences.

“I think it’ll look better like this!” You said, showing him the show outfit idea for your next match.

“I think you should add a bow on the chest part, like a glitter force character!” He said nonchalantly as you groaned..

“Okay, should I add glitter?” You asked, your eyes lighting up, he quickly agreed. You got for work on it immediately.

They’ve come to a couple of your wrestling matches, you joined the school club. The club wasn’t separated by genders so imagine their suprise when you took down some guy who was much taller than you with little to no effort. After the match when you met up with them the first thing you said was;

“This uniform they make us wear is so not cute! Or comfy for that matter, they only let me put some sweatpants over the bottoms. And the bottoms are so tight!” You just raged about the uniform, you looked like a sad puppy, but they you brightened up again, “were you all impressed?”

“Why don’t you do this stuff in the phantom realm?” Taylor asked with a dumbstruck face as you mimicked her and everyone went silent. Ashlyn stared at you before sighing and dismissing Taylor’s question after looking at your face.

You and Ashlyn are close aswell. The grumpy, quiet and observant with the cute, playful, ditzy one was your guys favorite stereotype. Or at least yours..?

You two are complete opposites but go so well together, the only thing she has to complain about is how you can be so, so clueless.

“What do you think, (name)?” You blinked at Ashlyn’s question and made a weird face.

“About what?” You asked scratching your neck. She stared at you for a minute befor asking;

“Are you serious?” They had just been talking about the plan and you had missed so much of it. Besides that encounter you guys get along swell.

Taylor? Taylor is your girl. Your go to bestie, your number one. She gets you, she really gets you.

“Do you like my outfit? It’s for wrestling! I have a match tonight!” She marveled at your presented outfit, you had all been hanging out at your house and you wanted to personally show Taylor your outfit, in your room while the others hangout downstairs.

“It’s so cute? How is that for wrestling?” She says, messing with the bow that Aiden insisted you add. “The bow is cute.” You deadpan.

“Yeah it’s cute I guess.” You say blushing cockily, you flip your hair dramatically as you both burst out into giggles.

Now, Logan? Logan, Logan, Logan.. how did you approach this one? Well he was a little intimidated by you, you were so bubbly, loud and creative that he just couldn’t get over how overwhelming you are.

“Logan!” You said, hugging him it was early morning and you had gotten to school early, you didn’t take the bus. You saw Logan just standing off to the side awkwardly. At first he was always put off by your affectionate nature, also how nice you were.

“(Name)?” He said, slightly hugging you back. He had seemed to have gotten used to it. It were times like now that he appreciated your personality. Ben came up beside you two and waved, you and Logan had already stopped hugging as you waved at Ben.

Ben was sweet, really sweet. When you had met Ben you were a little put off. He was kind of awkward around you, but he was also really nice to you. He never spoke, unlike you, but you seemed to get used to it just like Logan got used to you. One day you both were in the realm and you had beaten the shit out of some globs, as you like to call them. You had scrapped your ankle when you all had booked it t safety.

“Thanks Ben.” You whispered to him, while everyone conversed. He had wrapped your ankle neatly for you, you couldn’t help but smile at his generosity. He looked at you before nodding and turning his attention back to the group. He was really just shy, or was he?

Tyler was a special case. I don’t think he’d ever get used to how peppy you are. Your kind of like Aiden, it annoys him to think that.

“Tylerrrr!” You said, trying to get his attention by poking him. You guys were at lunch, you were sitting at the table together and today you had sat next to him. He had to breath in before giving you a look.

“What?” He said before looking back at his plate.

“Are you gonna eat that?“ you said, looking at his extra soda he got from the vending machine. He looked at it, he was gonna save it for his next couple classes but.. he handed it to you, without even thinking. Why didn’t he think? He just gave it to you? You took it great fully, that’s where your guys mural friendship started.

You still scare them sometimes, everyone gets scared by how reckless you are, going into battle without a second thought is dangerous. You somehow NEVER get hurt other then the ankle thing. It literally shocks them.

One time you fell out of a tree you and Aiden were messing around in and you landed on Ashlyn perfectly. You could’ve gotten hurt but you somehow landed on her in the perfect position.. how the freaky deeky?

Another extremely lucky moment was when you guys were on top of a large building and you fell off only to land on one of the window sills, somehow? Taylor had to find that window and pull you through it.

Another time you were fighting a phantom and you jumped off of a fucking refrigerator and landed your feet hit directly on top of its head as it was WALKING PAST so it was still moving!

They have never seen someone so damn lucky.

“Do you have something that makes you so lucky?” Taylor asks and suddenly everyone else started asking too.

“Yeah, even Aiden isn’t that lucky.” Ashlyn barged into the conversation.

“She’s just stupid.” Tyler says and Logan silently laughs. Ben. Sighs at the insult before you pipe up.

“I guess you could call me lucky man!” You’d say, like you’ve discovered a new species.

“Your a female.” Aiden correct.

—

That’s all I have, sorry I’m lazy and tired tday lol