#cross over fanfiction

[amaliazeichnerin]

Thoughts about Cosplaying (Good Omens and Dead Boy Detectives) I have two Good Omens Cosplays, Aziraphale and Crowley. I do not have any Dead Boy Detectives cosplays. (I haven't got any good photos yet, so instead, I'll throw some GIFs in here.)

However, if I wore my Crowley Cosplay and found two Edwin and Charles (Dead Boy Detectives) Cosplayers at an event, here is what I would do: Go up to them and say: " Hey, aren’t you the Dead Boy Detectives? I have an urgent case for you. It’s about this angel who went back to Heaven and I need to get him out of there ASAP!"

Edwin would maybe ask, "Wait a tick – you want to get an angel out of Heaven? Aren’t angels supposed to be there? Isn’t it their home?" I would reply, "Well, normally yes, but this angel got tricked into agreeing to a promotion to Supreme Arch Angel, but I cannot let this happen. Because … because you see, Aziraphale and me, we are a team, a group. A group of two."

Charles and Edwin would look at each other, Charles would wink at Edwin with a dazzling smile and then would say to me, "I completely understand what you mean."

This is never going to happen because I rarely visit big Cosplay events. But I was daydreaming about this today and it made me smile. Maybe I should start to write cross-over fanfiction.😅If only I had more time.

So far, I have written an AU Good Omens fanfiction (suitable for Teen and up audiences) called "Visit Our Fundraiser Concert with Crowley and the Demons" and it is here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49784236

Currently, I am writing a Dead Boy Detectives fanfiction (parallel to a original fiction manuscript) and am going to upload it to AO3 when it is ready.😀

[thebiggerbear]

Dean Winchester x Jenny Hoyt Masterlist

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

i vote that next year instead of reading Dracula we do a Jeeves & Wooster Book Club. those two never got the rabid tumblr shipping fandom they deserved (disqualified for the sheer technicality of being published a century too soon). we must correct this injustice

[anghraine]

Okay, breaking my principles hiatus again for another fanfic rant despite my profound frustration w/ Tumblr currently:

I have another post and conversation on DW about this, but while pretty much my entire dash has zero patience with the overtly contemptuous Hot Fanfic Takes, I do pretty often see takes on Fanfiction's Limitations As A Form that are phrased more gently and/or academically but which rely on the same assumptions and make the same mistakes.

IMO even the gentlest, and/or most earnest, and/or most eruditely theorized takes on fanfiction as a form still suffer from one basic problem: the formal argument does not work.

I have never once seen a take on fanfiction as a form that could provide a coherent formal definition of what fanfiction is and what it is not (formal as in "related to its form" not as in "proper" or "stuffy"). Every argument I have ever seen on the strengths/weaknesses of fanfiction as a form vs original fiction relies to some extent on this lack of clarity.

Hence the inevitable "what about Shakespeare/Ovid/Wide Sargasso Sea/modern takes on ancient religious narratives/retold fairy tales/adaptation/expanded universes/etc" responses. The assumptions and assertions about fanfiction as a form in these arguments pretty much always should apply to other things based on the defining formal qualities of fanfic in these arguments ("fanfiction is fundamentally X because it re-purposes pre-existing characters and stories rather than inventing new ones" "fanfiction is fundamentally Y because it's often serialized" etc).

Yet the framing of the argument virtually always makes it clear that the generalizations about fanfic are not being applied to Real Literature. Nor can this argument account for original fics produced within a fandom context such as AO3 that are basically indistinguishable from fanfic in every way apart from lacking a canon source.

At the end of the day, I do not think fanfic is "the way it is" because of any fundamental formal qualities—after all, it shares these qualities with vast swaths of other human literature and art over thousands of years that most people would never consider fanfic. My view is that an argument about fanfic based purely on form must also apply to "non-fanfic" works that share the formal qualities brought up in the argument (these arguments never actually apply their theories to anything other than fanfic, though).

Alternately, the formal argument could provide a definition of fanfic (a formal one, not one based on judgment of merit or morality) that excludes these other kinds of works and genres. In that case, the argument would actually apply only to fanfic (as defined). But I have never seen this happen, either.

So ultimately, I think the whole formal argument about fanfic is unsalvageably flawed in practice.

Realistically, fanfiction is not the way it is because of something fundamentally derived from writing characters/settings etc you didn't originate (or serialization as some new-fangled form, lmao). Fanfiction as a category is an intrinsically modern concept resulting largely from similarly modern concepts of intellectual property and auteurship (legally and culturally) that have been so extremely normalized in many English-language media spaces (at the least) that many people do not realize these concepts are context-dependent and not universal truths.

Fanfic does not look like it does (or exist as a discrete category at all) without specifically modern legal practices (and assumptions about law that may or may not be true, like with many authorial & corporate attempts to use the possibility of legal threats to dictate terms of engagement w/ media to fandom, the Marion Zimmer Bradley myth, etc).

Fanfic does not look like it does without the broader fandom cultures and trends around it. It does not look like it does without the massive popularity of various romance genres and some very popular SF/F. It does not look like it does without any number of other social and cultural forces that are also extremely modern in the grand scheme of things.

The formal argument is just so completely ahistorical and obliviously presentist in its assumptions about art and generally incoherent that, sure, it's nicer when people present it politely, but it's still wrong.

[ancientschampionau]

RealAgeAU drabble - Moving

Hello I am back and I got another idea for this little silly au that I have @spotaus to thank for for the original idea :3 Though I think this may be officially becoming one of my AUs hahahaha First part Prev Part Next part

Also yes. I know it would work better to number these uploads but also i am not writing these in any set order so it will become miserable for all of us if i number them because either they will be out of order or I will have to rework all the names and I am already editing links I don't need that extra energy in my life.

ANYWAY! :D

Next part! The one I lovingly clal in my head - The one where the gang finds a more permanent temporary home. (also yes. Before this they all speed-run the whole Parental bonding and emotional bonding to the idea of having a babybones. Which honestly can and probably will make four different drabbles)

-------

Horror stares at the door and wonders once again how he got to this point.

Well, no. That is a lie. He knows exactly how he got to his point.

He glances over his shoulder where the other four at hiding off to the side. Out of view from the doorway but still visable for Horror if he looks just right. Seems like Dust won the discussion, again, and is holding Nightmare, again.

Horror wants to say it is surprising how quickly they all just... accepted the situation they got into but he really isn't. Monsters are weird like that. Forced adoption is not that wild all things considered when you are talking about beings made of magic and emotions.

Horror stares at the door and raises his hand before knocking twice.

He really hadn't wanted to do this but they have no other choice. As he waits he can't help but think back to what made them decide this.

Cross walks from side to side "That was way to close! That was the third time we came across the Stars with Nightmare out. Third!"

Killer nods from where he is sitting wiht the sleeping Nightmare in his lap "Yeah no kidding. It is annoying as shit that they are hunting us."

Dust shrugs "Not surprising. Nightmare 'disappeared' after all. We are their only lead."

Killer grins "We were lucky Cross managed to lie his way out of the last one." and he shoots Cross a wink.

Cross sputters "I panicked!"

Killer grins and winks "Sure sure daddy crossy."

Horror holds up his hands between his two... co-parents "This is not the time. We need to figure out where we can go." and he thinks things over.

Cross sighs "I don't get how they keep finding us!"

Dust huffs as he packs their bags "We go to too little universes. Makes it easy for Ink and Dream to pick us out because they recognise us personally."

Killer frowns "Meaning. we need a big universe?" he taps his chin "But also mostly positive as we still don't know how obvious Nightmare would be otherwise."

Cross frowns "I think it will be fine. He can't feel the balance anymore right? And no one seems to have a reaction to him like they had before nor how people have a reaction to Dream's aura thing. Maybe with the corruption gone he really is just... ex-guardian now?"

Killer groans "I hope so. I am not a fan of child labor."

That is when it hits him. Horror sits up "I think I know a place."

All of them turn to him and he immediantly regrets saying anything. See? This is why he normally tries to limit what he says.

Either way. Here they are now and Horror prays this works. Please. They need one thing to work in their favor.

The door opens and a gasp "Horror! It has been ages! It is great to see you. How have you been?" Crop smiles at him.

Horror steels his nerves. Come on. Too much hangs on this moment "Hey Crop. Nice to see you. I am... okay. How are you?"

Crop frowns at him instantly "You sure? You don't sound okay. Trouble at home?"

Horror chuckles "Kinda? Not exactly. Euh... Can't go back to that place now?"

Crop frowns "Why? Need a place to stay? I got a spare room."

Okay yes! this is going great! just... gotta make sure he knows.

Horror nods "I do need a room. Not just for me though..." Crop starts to frown and Horror raises his hands "Just temporarily!"

Crop frowns "Did... something go wrong?"

Horror pauses and thinks this through once more. He trusts Crop. Crop has never been anything but kind even when Horror had been an ass. Even when he had to once drag Dust here to get healing before they could make the jump back home.

Horror looks to the side and he sees the others just beyond the treeline, hidden in shadows and waiting. Crop takes a look as well but he can't quite spot them. Crop looks back up at him.

Horror takes a deep breath "You need... to promise me, no not just promise you need to swear. That what you are about to learn will not leave this universe."

Crop frowns as he immediantly looks uncomfortable. It is the reaction a promise gets from most of them. But Crop also shoots him a considering look before he nods. He holds out a hand "I swear and promise I will not share the about to be giving information. UNLESS! It endangers anyone." and he waits.

Horror stares at the hand and thinks. That... That is fine right? That should be fine. Nightmare being a child doesn't endanger anyone. Only them and Nightmare. Horror nods and shakes the hand.

Crop nods and steps aside "Come inside. I bet you will be more comfortable explaining there." he glances at the forest "Do your... friends? Want to come in too?" a guess clearly. probably on multiple fronts.

Horror shakes his skull "Not yet. Need to know your answer and reaction first." He turns to the forest and makes a signal to wait a bit longer. He sees a thumbs up shot his way back. Probably Killer. He never bothered with the signals they had learned together.

Crop nods as he steps aside and Horror walks in, having to duck slightly for the door. The door closes behind him and Horror sees the small living room with fireplace.

Crop leads him to the kitchen "Lets talk there. I will get some tea."

A few minutes later they are both seated and with a cup of tea. Crop looks at him expectingly.

Horror takes a deep breath and takes out their most valuable resourch. The Dreamtale book. And places it on the table. Crop frowns at it before looking at Horror.

Horror nods to it "It will help explain... Very long story short... Nightmare was never an adult. He was a child with a magical shield of some type. That magic has ran out."

Crop stares at him for a moment, then he pulls the book closer and starts reading it. He pauses at the title before opening it.

And now he waits.

---------

Crop sits wiht his skull in his hands. Horror just sits across from him, with his empty cup of tea. Crop's own cup has grown cold a long time ago. Horror just waits for anymore questions but Crop hasn't said anyhting in the last ten minutes.

Horror looks back at the book and sees that Crop has turned the pages back to the one with the drawing of Nightmare's head being cracked open. The image makes a very clear show on how small Nightmare was compared to the ones attacking him.

Horror still thinks the book doesn't do it justice. Nightmare is much smaller in person than the picture makes him seem. The cracks had been much worse than the picture showed. But it is the closest they got.

Crop finally sighs and speaks. He doesn't look away from the picture "I don't... Know a lot about this whole... multiverse stuff. It isn't my place at all. And that is fine." he pauses for a moment "But this... You are telling me... That the one being that had everyone afraid. That everyone saw as a demon. Is a child... is this child?"

Horror nods before he explains more "Nightmare... gained a lot of magic and powers when he ate those apples. At least that is what the story implied. We haven't managed to get him to tell us yet, mostly because well... he is six again." Crops pulls a face as well, yeah. Horror agrees. A PTSD filled six year old is not easy. But they are managing.

Horror nods "so... What Cross nad Dust think what happened is that... The magic and negativity of the apples bond itself to Nightmare. Which game him the magic and powers he would use. The connection to the balance because the apples were part of the balance. and more importantly, an adult form and mind to fit all the magic. There was just no way all that magic and energy would have fit a babybones. Especially one that hadn't shown much magic beforehand." an assumption on their end as Nightmare was never said to use magic in the book.

"We think... We think that this magic of the apples just. ran out. We had been in battle at the time and Nightmare had been hit but it shouldn't have had that much of an effect. it was the same type of attack he had been hit by before. Dust thinks it was just the last bit of magic that the apples had having run out. Meaning that with the magic and energy so went the form." all a theory of course. But it is the only thing they have.

Crop nods as he clearly thinks "And as he was suddenly an adult. instead of just being afraid and scared. all that pain and emotions took a more violent turn. As he was an adult and was suddenly able to realise that it was unfair which made him angry..." Crop pauses.

Crop glares back at the table and shakes his skull "It is... It is a whole story about victim blaming. A victim is blamed for the abuse they suffered. They are made to believe they deserve it and should be abused. Then as soon as they fight back and defend themselves they are seen as guilty." Crop takes adeep breath as he leans back "What I don't get... Why come here? I can't help with any of this."

Horror shakes his skull "This isn't about any of the big stuff. We don't even care about it. We just... Nightmare is himself again. His real self." he taps the page lightly "Not his aged-up self that the corruption enabled him to be."

Crop stares before his face changes to shock "You are trying to hide him." Then a frown "Why not go to your own home? Has it been compromised?"

Horror snorts "At this point? probably." a confused look and Horror continues "Nightmare used his magic to shield off an universe and make a castle." he shrugs at the glance "Nightmare likes to read. I imagine he liked to read back then too. He may have been an adult technically but he was still a child at soul. Child him wanted a home and wanted that to be a castle and adult him made it happen... probably... that is Killer's theory at the moment."

Crop laughs and nods "Suonds reasonable- oh... and with his magic disappearing."

Horror sighs "When I left his universe the castle had already been decaying..."

Crop frowns "Left? The five of you you mean?"

Horror looks to the side and feels the shame return "We.... we did not react well... when we saw the changes at first... we... we obviously dind't know what was going on and well." he looks down "We abandoned him. I know it was wrong and stupid and we all regret it. We came back but we still did it." shame.

shame shame shame shame shame shame shame-

A hand on his shoulder. Horror glances up and Crop smiles at him "It is okay. You are trying to fix it now right? obviously. Not cool that you abandoned a child... but it can be nerve wrecking. Suddenly going from a position where a person is mostly guiding you, to going to a position where you suddenly are responsible over that same person."

Horror looks to the side "We still left." he can't believe they just left!

Crop nods "But you returned." he grins "And you are trying to fix it."

Horror nods again "We are..." he chuckles "Not that we have been doing a good job at it. Jumping from place to place."

Crop hums "So you are looking to settle, at least for a little bit, while also hidding. Why this universe?"

Horror nods "Yeah..." He looks to the side "We... we don't know how everyone will react. To him being like this. Maybe they will react well. Maybe not. We don't want to risk it. Risk him."

Crop stares at him for a long time and nods "There must be better places?"

Horror shakes his skull "The Stars kept finding us. Dust figured out we needed a big universe that leans towards positive. Yours is one of those. It is one of the wider and bigger ones. And overall leaning towards positive."

Crop frowns "It can't be the best one..."

Horror shrugs but continues "True... there are bigger and more positive ones. But those are busy. Many people. many places. Yours is quieter. more empty. Gives peace and room to work from."

Crop frowns as he taps his chin. He thinks deeply before sighing "You guys got any type of backstory we can use? The multiverse thing isn't a known thing here and the only reason my brother and I know is because you crash landed here."

Horror blinks "You will let us stay?"

Crop nods "Sure." and he grins "Can't kick out four parents with a babybones." and he gets up.

Horrro shakes his skull "That isn't... Well I mean technically." He knows that Killer has come close to killing quite a few people with how protective he has grown over Nightmare and that isn't even including the motherhenning of Cross nor the clinginess that Dust has.

Crop chuckles as he nods towards the stairs "The attic is messy and should be cleaned but can be used by you four, well five. There is an old bed and an old lounge chair up there." more thoughtful "How big is he exactly? we will need some clothes. Probably also get a healer to check him if he is developing okay after all those magical shenanigans."

Horror stares for a moment before smiling "Thank you... I know it is a lot."

Crop shrugs as he opens the linnen closet "Horror. Taking care of milking all the cows on your own is a lot. Having to fix your roof in the middle of a thunderstorm is a lot." He straightens his spine with blankets in his arms "Helping a friend and his friends who have somehow aqcuired a babybones, while strange, does not compare to either of those. Now get your friends out of those woods. They will make the animals nervous." he grins "I am excited to be one of the first ones to meet the real Nightmare."

Horror smiles as he packs his book and goes towards the door. "Thanks again Crop."

Crop waves it off as he moves the piles upstairs.

-------

Boom! and they are staying in FarmTale for now! Horror and Crop are homies and Dust is more of an acquaintance of Crop but it works. Aged-up Nightmare knew that Horror had an universe he liked to visit but never demanded details. *shrugs* Nightmare didn't see the point. as long as horror wasn't going to betray him what did it matter he didn't tell him?

Surprise Nightmare, this is your temporary home now. For a bit. or maybe longer? They are still figuring it out.

First part Prev Part Next part

[losfacedevil]

Retaliation // SFK x CM

a/n~ Roughly a year ago I had a crackship idea to write Sam as a profiler for the Quantico BAU and throw him into the world of Criminal Minds - which never happened until now. The serial killer mentioned in this case is not of my own creation but is one of @vanfleeter’s creation, who lovingly let me borrow her idea to get the gears turning. Thank you, my love. You’re the best 😘

WARNINGS: Mentions of crime scene photos, Death, gun shot wounds. The use of guns in a criminal investigation setting. Foul language. Any that I may have missed please please please let me know!

This wasn’t his life plan. Working with the Federal Bureau of Investigation- the Behavioral Analysis Unit to be exact, wasn’t exactly where he saw himself when he crossed that stage to accept his bachelors degree in criminal justice. Never once had he dreamed of working with the FBI - the weakness of his stomach around anything even slightly grotesque had made that decision for him many years ago.

Though his interests had changed immensely somewhere between walking the stage in his high school graduation and picking a major in college. A simple read through of a true crime book changing the trajectory of his thoughts and dreams. Long gone were the ideas that he’d don a space suit and blast off into the stratosphere with his colleagues. His mind full of the facts that would make him a brilliant astronaut, while his passions lie elsewhere in the midst of cold cases and unsolved mysteries.

He had been encouraged to join the BAU, the brilliance his mind held to create a profile, picking up on even the most minuscule of details causing him to be able to solve a case even those higher in the food chain couldn’t.

“That is absolutely his signature! Look, each woman have the same markings as,” he trailed off, sifting through the file folder spread out across the conference table.

Finding the one he wanted he quickly carded through the documents, placing crime scene photos of the victim next to the ones he was studying.

“Her! They all have the same markings, look at their ears - it looks like he may have taken a hole punch to them.. but why? An inch of skin isn’t any substantial trophy.”

Hotch had raised an eyebrow, his eyes dancing over the photos Sam looked through, placing his hands again the table as eh leaned his weight forward.

“So then what could it mean?”

“Wait look! She’s got one, she has one on each ear, but she has three and she, LOOK! She has two on each ear. He wasn’t a one time killer, this was the work of a serial killer. This is how he was signing off each kill.”

Hotch’s eyes grew wide as the realization hit him. Pushing back off of the table he steadied his weight, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You ever think of doing this professionally, kid?”

____________

“I still can’t believe the newbie cracked that last case as a stand in rookie cop, it’s never happened like that before.” Morgan chuckled, perching himself again the edge of Sam’s desk and clapped a firm hand down onto his shoulder. A sheepish smile spread across Sam’s face and he turned his attention back to the file folder sat in front of him.

“That’s because he wasn’t meant to be a cop, he was meant to be a profiler.” JJ chirped up from where she sat, her eyes never leaving the screen of her laptop.

“Actually, my calling was space. I studied to work in a space station, but a few of the degrees over lapped into this line of work. But then I read this book called Murder New England which was a collection of cases and it really sparked something in my brain. I found that I was able to profile right along with the story and well… the rest is history.” Sam shrugged his shoulders and realized he was rambling.

“No wonder you all said he’s just like Reid.” Emily shook her head and slowly made her way out of the bullpen and in the direction of Garcias office.

A comfortable silence fell over the three profilers remaining in the bullpen as they went back to the tasks they had originally been working on. It wasn’t long before a commotion rang out somewhere down the hall and the doors to the bullpen sprang open as Hotch barged his way into the bullpen followed closely by Garcia and Prentiss.

“A new case just came out of the DC area, they need our help ASAP - wheels up in thirty.” Sam’s head shot up at the authoritative tone in Hotchs voice. His eyes danced over to Garcia who - in a tizzy - was handing out case files for them to go over on the flight. JJ stood from her desk and threw a look over her shoulder at Sam who was frozen in his seat.

“You comin’, Sam? We gotta jet.” Her voice was light and airy, a tone that shook him out of his thoughts and he pushed himself to stand. Holding his hand out he allowed Garcia to place the file in it and wrapped his fingers gently around it before taking off at a jog behind his colleges.

Garcia began pacing in front of the conference table as she waited for the crew to take their respective seats. Pulling a deep breath in through her nose she turned on her heel and, using the remote in her hand, brought the screen to life behind her. On it were gruesome crime scene photos of three separate victims.

“Asher Max, Mariah Lambert and Colby Rodriguez. All three were found dead on the steps of various museums within the Smithsonian.” Sam cocked his head to the side, trying to examine the photos on the screen as best as possible.

“There’s duct tape around their wrists and a GSW to their foreheads… what do you think the unsub does to get them in space where they can restrain their hands and bring them down execution style?” Sam offered, turning his attention to the file folder that sat on the table in front of him. Garcia clicked through to the next slide, presenting photos of the crime scenes, the offices in which the victims worked.

“They hang around long after the museums are shut down for the night, find a way in and ambush them in their offices - they’re found on the front steps the next day. No one has stepped forward outside of those reporting the findings of the body and crime scenes in the offices.” Sam shook his head, not wanting to believe what he was hearing.

“Someone had to have seen something, anything. What about security guards or cameras? Have they pulled the footage?” Garcia nodded and clicked over to another slide.

“They ceased the investigation until we could get there. So far there are no ties to anyone or any real motive as to why the murders are happening.” Garcia scanned the faces of her colleagues and her gaze came to rest on Spencer.

“What are you thinking, Reid?” She mumbled, leaning forward to rest her hands against the conference table.

“There’s something telling in the male, female, male, pattern in which they’ve killed. Meaning the next kill may be…” Spencer was cut off as Hotch brought his hand down against the conference table.

“Another female was found outside of the American Woman’s History Museum. Let’s wrap this up. Wheels up in five!” Hotch spoke with a sense of urgency as he pushed his chair out and rose to his feet, making his way quickly out of the conference room.

“Someone’s had to have seen something. Is there any connection they’re aware of?” Spencer asked, rising to his feet and collecting the file folder from the table in front of him. Garcia shook her head and turned off the screen behind her.

“So far no… go get em tigers, I have faith in you.”

Sam sighed as he rose to stand and followed JJ out of the conference room.

~*~*~

“Agent Rossi, what brings you here?” Hotch was quick to address the senior agent as they made their way over to the American Woman’s History Museum. Rossi raised his eyebrow and turned on a heel to face the BAU members standing behind him.

“They called me directly. Who do you think tipped Garcia off to compile the files?” Rossi kept his tone even, not wanting to tip off the crew that he was peeved. Hotch nodded solemnly and they slowly made their way into the police station.

“I’m Agent Aaron Hotcher of the Quantico BAU. This is Agent Reid, Rossi, Jareau, Morgan, Prentiss and Kiszka.” Hotch rattled off a quick introduction as they were escorted into the conference room.

Sam’s eyes danced over the expanse of the map of the Smithsonian they had set up, taking in as many details as his mind would hold. Reid stepped forward and stood shoulder to shoulder with Sam, eyeing the newest member of the BAU quietly before turning his attention to the map on the wall.

“Look… even the order of museums is odd, he bounces from one side to the next… male, female, male, female… so if he hit the Woman’s History Museum last…” Reid’s voice trailed off and he reached up to cup his chin in his hand.

“If he follows the same trajectory…the National Gallery of Art is next. Hey Hotch? Is the director of the Gallery of Art male or female?” Sam called, glancing over his shoulder at his senior Agent.

“That would be David Saunders. He’s one of the best historians around these parts.” The police officer standing next to Hotch spoke up and turned to face the agents.

“Shit… and it’s almost closing time. That’s his next target - we gotta go!” Sam’s voice took on a tone of urgency as he turned on his heel and took off out of the conference room with both Morgan and Reid hot on his heels. Rossi turned his attention to the commotion for a brief moment before returning it to the CCTV footage that was pulled up on the computer screen in front of him.

“See him? With the bucket hat?” The security guard working the cameras zoomed in on the man and waited patiently for him to tip his head in the direction of the camera.

“That’s Chase Rivera, he parted ways with us a few months ago due to ‘Unforseen circumstances’… do you think?” His question trailed off as he looked up at Rossi. The senior Agent nodded his head vigorously before pulling his cellphone out of his pocket and dialed a number.

***

“Talk to me, Rossi.” Morgan spoke down the phone, his free hand resting on his holster as he scanned the crowd for any suspicious activity.

“The guys name is Chase Rivera. He’s wearing blue jeans, a Hawaiian shirt and a black bucket hat stood just inside the door to the National Art Gallery. Keep a close eye on him, I think he’s our guy.”

“He just walked past me and Reid mumbling under his breath but I couldn’t catch what was said. Newbies been trailing him since we spotted him. I’ll keep you in the loop.” Morgan ended the call and slid the phone safely back into his pocket.

“Hey kid, they’ve got a birds eye view on the guy Sam’s trailing, I’ve got a good feeling about this.” Morgan chuckled and slowly began to make his way over to where Sam stood in the crowd. Reaching out he placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder as to not startle the boy with his presence.

“He keeps watching the director every time he goes back and forth to and from his office… wait, look at his belt. Is that a… gun holster?” Reid took a step closer, the unsub none the wiser that he was being watched from all angles. Slipping his hands in his pockets, Reid leaned forward slightly and squinted his eyes, just barely making out the glint reflecting off of the revolver.

Chase rocked on his heels as he watched the few people that still remained in the museum disperse. All three agents shuffled backwards, pressing up against the wall as to not be seen. Reid crouched down next to Sam and leaned sideways just enough to see Chase’s shoes, watching to see if he dared to move.

“There goes David into his office… shit!” Sam mumbled, his hand going instinctually to the gun that hung on his hip. Reid pushed himself up off of the ground and followed suit, drawing his gun and turned his attention to Sam for the next round of instruction.

“He’s not luring them into their offices, he’s waiting where no one will look and following them in. We’ve got him now.” Sam’s voice held steady between a whisper and his normal tone as he slowly began to walk towards the directors office. A commotion could be heard coming from inside the office. Muffled voices and furniture being tipped onto its side.

Reid pushed past Sam and turned his attention to the agents at his back. Raising his hand he counted down from three before kicking in the door to David Saunders’ office.

“FBI! I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Chase!” Sam’s voice carried in from the hallway and a stunned Spencer stood still in his tracks.

Chase raised his head slowly and finished securing the duct tape shackles he was weaving around David’s wrists, rendering the man helpless. He straightened his back and stood to his full height, taking in the scene in front of him.

“And why not? There’s nothing a boy like you could do anyway.” Chase spoke in a drawl, dragging out his words longer than was necessary. Sam swallowed hard, the words he wanted to speak becoming fully entrapped in his mind.

“Drop the weapon, Chase. There’s an easy out standing right in front of you. He’s done nothing to you, there’s no rhyme or reason for the way you’re acting. You left on your own, you brought this upon yourself now… drop the weapon.” Reid’s voice was soft and level, knowing just how to speak to someone on the edge.

Chase turned his attention to the gun he held in his left hand and slowly lifted it, pressing the barrel to David’s temple. Sam swallowed hard as he watched the scene in front of him unfold, scooting his feet shoulder width apart he steadied his hand and took aim for Chases shoulder.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t empty this barrel into his head. He forced me to resign, took my job from me. My lively hood! Doesn’t matter what I did to provoke it. He ruined my life.”

With a slight nod of Reids head both Sam and Morgan discharged a bullet from the barrels of their guns, lodging them both into Chases shoulder and caused the man to drop his gun. Sam was quick to place his gun back in the holster and stepped forward, slipping his handcuffs off of his back belt loop.

“Chase Saunders you are under arrest for the murder of Asher Max, Mariah Lambert and Colby Rodriguez. You’re going to have a lot of time to think about what you’ve done where you’re going.” Sam rambled off, placing the cuffs securely around Chases wrists and pulled the man to his feet. Stepping forward Morgan slipped his hand around Chases arm and yanked, pulling him in step with him.

A shaky breath slipped past Sam’s lips and he looked up, meeting Spencer’s gaze. Nodding his head in the direction of the door, Spencer turned on his heel and slowly made his way out of the office.

“He needs medics, but we got him. Sam got him.” Morgan beamed, handing Chase off to the EMT who was waiting for them outside of the museum. Hotch turned his attention to the main door of the museum and watched as Sam slowly dragged himself over to where everyone stood.

“Looks like our work here is done, good job son. You alright?” Hotch spoke, placing a reassuring hand on Sam’s shoulder. Sam nodded gently and turned his attention to the older man at his side. With a reassuring squeeze and a tilt of his head, Hotch motioned for everyone to head back to the cars knowing that their presence would soon be needed at the police station before they could head back to Quantico headquarters.

TAGLIST: @vanfleeter @stardustvanfleet @readyforthegarden @ascendingtostardust @belovedsamuel @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @lyndz2names @the-wicked-gnome @runwayblues @gracev0609 @lipstickitty

[bigfemboyenergy]

The Worst Crossover To Ever ‘Cross Over’ Pt.2

See, Danny isn’t terribly surprised with his predicament. And by that, he means that he is wholly unsurprised that he has to fake who he is. A fourteen year old kid working, in this day and age? Unlikely, he thinks. So he decides to pretend to be fifteen, what an easy fix. But that doesn’t help with Sonic’s side of the problem. Sure, Sonic gets confused for a kid, but..how old is he?

As soon as the thought surfaces, Danny opens his mouth to speak, turning to look at Sonic as they walk around, searching for a somewhat acceptable abandoned building or something similar to hide out in for now. “Uh, how old are you, exactly?” Danny asks, with little hesitation. Sonic shrugs; “Old enough to legally drink in some countries- why, worried about something?” Danny feels his face turn a bit white. Wow, his appearance does not match his age. With a nervous smile, Danny responds with, “Yeah, dunno if you could get a job looking like that. I’m fourteen, and even I look older than you.” Sonic coughs awkwardly. “I’m gonna have to work on that, aren’t I? What an unlucky day it is,” he says, with a yawn. Shelving that problem in order to focus on the most important one, the two continue to wander the streets, looking for something to temporarily call “home”.

It isn’t too long before they find a suitable place. Dark, dreary, just like everywhere else; but it’s far more exaggerated, and even dirtier than the rest of the city. Some old graffiti here and there, a broken window or two. Not too shabby on the inside, still has running water and an AC. It makes Danny wonder just how old this building is and just how long it’s been since it was last lived in.

Sonic inspects every nook and cranny of the building, as if checking for safety violations. It appears to be an old office building, with kitchen necessities in what might’ve been a break room, and running water in the bathrooms. He investigates alone, namely for “Danny’s safety”, he says, but it makes one think. The amount of spiders he’s killed seems to point to a different conclusion..but that’s of no matter.

After looking at every floor, Sonic finally decides which one they’ll be staying on. Something that’s just a cut above the rest, and also safe enough- the third floor, out of four. He waves Danny over to the cleanest spot in the spacious, main room, calling out, “Let’s sleep over here for now, since we kinda can’t clean anything yet. It looks a lot nicer here, away from the nasty corners.” Danny nods, agreeing in silence. It looks like they have a lot of work to do, as they both flop on the floor and try to sleep.

Danny, however, struggles to sleep. In an entirely new city, an empty building, with someone who he’s just been freshly acquainted with, trying to sleep on the cold, hard floor? That’s no easy feat, and he acknowledges this. So he comes to the most logical conclusion: why not check out the city from above, via Phantom form? In silence, he nods in agreement with his own thought, intrigued by his new possibilities. He’ll fly out and survey the town, enjoy the sunrise, if he’s awake for that long- try to make this place feel a little bit like home. Familiarize himself with it, perhaps. It sounds like a good plan, no? So he acts.

He whispers to himself, after assuring that Sonic is asleep, “Going ghost!” He transforms in silence. A little reminder of who he is, the whispers of who he was only hours ago, come to him via his reference of his beginnings. It gives him a feeling of determination, a want to explore. A desire to protect this new friend he’s found, and the strangers of a place he’s newly discovered. Slowly slipping through the floor, intangibly, he floats out of the building, making himself invisible so as not to spook anyone else who may be out at night.

In the night sky, he soars through the clouds as he takes in the layout of the city. It’s large, dark, and..full of crime, which makes a lot of sense in such a poverty-stricken area, but.. it has an air of abnormality. Suddenly, he hears some horrible sounds. Shrill, shrieking laughter booms out from a warehouse a few blocks away, his ears wishing for the silence of seconds before to return. Although he doesn’t truly want to approach, his obsession to protect those in need draws him to the source of the sound. The closer he gets, the more off everything seems. And..are those furries on the top of that building? What have I gotten myself into, he thinks, with an accompanying facepalm. Oh, boy.

Back in the cold, dreary office building, Sonic wakes up, restless. He feels terrible..he turns towards Danny, wanting to check on him, before quickly finding out that he’s not even present. What a fantastic day this has been. Sonic feels his heart pumping, ready for a run. He has to find Danny, to make sure he’s okay. Unless..he left of his own accord? Shit, what if he actually is weirded out by me..he said something about the unusualness of a guy like me showing up, didn’t he?! Sonic struggles to decide what to do. He knows Danny could be in need, he knows he’s young. And, from what he’s gathered, he’s a bit odd too, but if he needs help, of course Sonic should jump on in for him! They’re “partners in crime” now, aren’t they?

Despite his conscience screaming at him to go, he still struggles to make the choice. What if Danny really didn’t mean anything he said? But..he listens to that loud, desperate part of him. He doesn’t want to lose the only person he’s found here. If he can save or help this kid, someone who accepts him in this strange new place, that’s just what he’ll do.

So, against his “better judgement”, he rushes off, speeding around the town to find Danny. If anything, he should be where it’s quietest or where it’s loudest, since both are eeriest. As Sonic zooms off, going incredibly fast so as not to be seen clearly, he is particularly careful to check suspicious, disturbing areas.

Not long after he began his run, he finds Danny. But it’s quite the weird situation to be in.. cause Danny’s colors are inverted now? Amd there’s this weird bat guy a few buildings away, with some friends, too.. and a fucking..clown?! What is this shit, bad writing??!

[summercourtship]

stay to burn (only to drown instead): chapter one: water to tread [part I]

masterpost | ao3 link

jonathan crane x reader; bruce wayne x reader; edward nashton x reader | warnings: canon typical violence, sexual themes | word count: 4218 words

DISCLAIMER: these chapters are not meant to be read alone. not every chapter has content for one of the three pairings listed. this is an ongoing fanfiction that I am cross-posting here on tumblr, not a series of one-shots.

The rain in Gotham was poison on your skin, more acid than water as it hit the city’s streets. It wasn’t doing anything to wash away the grime. Instead, it made it bubble to the surface like a toxic stew of dirt and blood. But you’d lived here for long enough that you were used to it and paid it no mind as you quickly walked home, trying to ignore your water logged shoes and pitifully wet socks. It was much later than you liked being out but your sleazy manager still scheduled you for late shifts despite you repeatedly telling him why you aren't comfortable walking home in the dark.

“Get some pepper spray and don’t flatter yourself.” He’d rolled his eyes when you’d tried explaining, raising his eyebrow as he gestured to your body. You didn’t bother telling him you already had a canister of pepper gel (it’s better than pepper spray) in your purse. And your backpack. And the inside pocket of your usual coat.

You also didn’t bother bringing up Gotham’s stupidly high crime rate and the statistics of violence in the city, knowing it wouldn’t do you any good. You didn’t want to push too hard and end up out in the rain, jobless and soon to be homeless when you wouldn’t be able to afford your rent. And then you’d lose your ability to continue your education, and everything would just keep spiraling downward along the same trajectory until you’re a drophead and trying to bum dollars off the clients outside the Iceberg Lounge.

All of that to say that you had to watch what you said around your boss because you needed your job.

Half of the time, you were able to find someone to cover the night shifts over at the 24/7 convenience store but every now and then they couldn’t (or wouldn’t). And sometimes you decided to just grin and bear it for the money. The shop was understaffed anyway and they made you feel like shit for not being able to work every waking second, even though you explained time and time again why you didn’t want to walk home after eight P.M.

But they thought it would be “special treatment” to only give you the shifts you wanted to work. Or they told you that with the extra money you made you could just order an Uber. But the prospect of getting into a random car was more nerve wracking than the idea of walking home alone at night. So you picked the lesser of two evils and walked.

So, that’s where you were at.

It was better, anyway, to brave the walk home than to be on a bus or in a cab by yourself. At least you could run if something bad happened to you out here. It felt like every other day now there was a bus or train jacking for some asinine reason and you really didn’t want to have to deal with that.

As you walked down the street, you subconsciously adjusted the hood of your rain jacket, but whether you were trying to hide your identity or shield yourself from the rain, it was futile.

Your face was dripping wet, and you were being watched.

You didn’t notice exactly when watching became following (always be aware of your surroundings, but there’s too much to be aware of in Gotham city that you’re bound to miss something), but soon enough you were more than aware of it. A hot itching feeling at the base of your neck started, sending a wave of heat and anxiety over you as you glanced in a passing window to confirm what your mind had been whispering at you.

Three men were following you.

One short and stocky, one tall and gangly. The third, middle one, being completely unremarkable- which is why he scared you the most of the three. It was always those ones who were the most dangerous.

When you stopped at an intersection for the crossing signal to turn in your favor, you glanced around you. Cars sped by, their tires disturbing the permanent puddles on the road. If you were attacked now, would anyone stop? Or would they chalk you up to another number in Gotham’s ever increasing violent crime statistic?

The men had stopped after you halfway down the block, keeping their distance behind you. You allowed yourself to, for a moment, entertain the notion that you were just being sensitive and jumpy. That nothing would happen and you'd get back to your wonderfully warm and horribly cramped apartment with a sigh of relief when you realize that your paranoia had gotten the best of you again.

But in this city, paranoia is akin to safety.

You spared another glance behind you, pretending like you were just checking out the closed lingerie store you had stopped next to while you were waiting for the crossing signal to change. They were leaning against the brick of the next shop down and goosebumps ran down your arms when you saw them looking your way. Really, they were leering and the way they did was enough to set off every alarm bell in your head. Adrenaline burned over your skin as your brain went into a quiet frenzy, trying to figure out how to get out of the situation as safely as possible.

Realistically, you had three options:

Option one: run. (but you must also consider the possibility of falling, being hit by a car if you didn’t look carefully enough, or still being overpowered by the men.)

Option two: fight back. (the option most likely to end with you dead, if you’re being honest with yourself.)

Option three: ??? (there was no option three.)

Turning back to the crosswalk you jolt forward as the little LED man giving you permission to cross the street flashed at you. You quickly crossed, not even checking the street to ensure cars had actually stopped coming. Being hit by a car was the least of your worries (at least they could pay off your student loans).

Sneaking another glance behind you as you rushed onto the other sidewalk, barely sidestepping a large puddle, your heart sunk in your chest when you saw the men start following you again, their dark eyes trained on you like a predator stalking its prey.

Without a second thought, you started running, pressing your way past all the other people walking home. You didn’t even apologize when you jostled them too much and they didn’t seem to care. Really, they barely paid you any mind, adopting the typical attitude of Gothamites: it’s none of my business; I didn’t see anything; I don’t want any trouble.

Always content to stand back and watch, never concerned enough to do anything about it.

You could feel rather than hear your socks squelching in your shoes as you ran through puddle after puddle. You twisted your body, sliding your backpack around to your front. If you could just get your pepper-gel out of your bag, maybe you’d have a chance of escaping this relatively unscathed. Shoving your hand into the front pocket, you fumbled around inside, not caring when your hair ties and period products fell onto the sidewalk. They are replaceable.

Finally, your hand wraps around the familiar canister, your thumb immediately turning it so it was ready to deploy. You should have done this from the moment you left the convenience store but you’d been so ready to leave and so tired that you trusted your luck a little too much.

You’re close to your apartment by now but you won’t risk leading them to your home- your sanctuary. Instead, you make the hasty decision to duck into an alleyway between a diner and a bike shop- both closed for the night. Pressing your back against the dirty brick, you breathe slowly, fighting against your body’s instinct to pant in exhaustion.

You knew that the men were still following you, and that they definitely saw you go into the alley- there were not enough people on this street to hide your movements. All you could do was wait for the light spilling into the alley from the street to be blocked.

You didn’t have to wait a long time- within thirty seconds the slow, wet stomps of boots on the sidewalk drifted into the alley. You held your arm out, desperately trying to keep your grip from wavering.

The second you saw one of the men, you pressed on the trigger of the pepper-gel, but clearly luck wasn’t on your side as it jammed just long enough for the man to rush towards you and knock it out of your hand. It sputtered as it landed in a puddle, useless and dead. The tiny canister hadn’t given you much hope, but even now that was dashed.

The shortest of the men shoved you against the wall, ripping your bag away from where you’d been holding it like a shield against your chest. He threw it to the one who knocked your pepper-gel out of your hand, who immediately began searching through its contents.

The short one slammed you against the wall again, knocking the wind out of your chest, bringing his knee up into your stomach before you could catch it again. You crumpled in on yourself, pulling out every ounce of strength you had to keep your feet steady on the ground. You’re brought back into reality when the tallest man comes behind you and holds you still against him. You lift your impossibly heavy head to stare at the short one, daring him to do what his sleazy smile was implying.

But the man only rears his hand back and punches you across the face.

Pain blossomed from the moment his knuckles met your cheek, an involuntary cry escaping your mouth along with a glob of spit. The man holding you readjusts his grip on you, his arms hooked under your armpits. As soon as you’re able to bring air back into your lungs you renew your struggle against his grip, trying desperately to jab your elbow against the sensitive flesh of his stomach or into his side. Anywhere that might cause him to release his hold on you.

You knock your head back, trying to look up into his face to see if he was bothered yet or if he still had that same self-satisfied grin on his face. But your eyes slip right past his grimy complexion.

Instead, through the sheets of water falling from the sky, through the lights of the buildings, your eyes focused on the clouds. Or rather, what was being projected onto them. It didn’t appear every night but tonight it seemed that somewhere, someone in Gotham needed him.

You certainly did.

“What’s this?” A rough voice broke your focus, wrenching your attention away from the signal in the sky. The one who’d been pawing through your bag held up two thick bundles of money, tied together with rubber bands. You closed your eyes, heart sinking, head dropping against the tall one’s chest.

“Shit!” The tall one laughed at the sight, his chest hitting your back with his boisterousness. But you know it's really not that much cash, maybe $350, certainly not enough to warrant the beating you’d already received. Singles and fives stack up quickly.

You wonder if they’ll be disappointed when they count it out and see it’s not even enough for a month’s rent in this city.

“Now what were you doing to get this?” The stocky one swept his gaze up and down your body, fingers twitching like he wanted to touch you too. “And how much for one night?”

You knew what he was insinuating, but in reality your boss was just shit at paying you everything you were owed on time. Every month or so you’d finally ask him about it and he’d just reach into the register and give you cash. Did it feel illegal, or at least extremely shady? Yes. But you needed the job and you were just getting what you were already due from your work. He’d be in more trouble if he withheld anymore from you than he already did.

“Give it back.” You struggled to get the words out, water and blood pooling on your lips. You tried to wiggle your way out of your captor’s grip again but he didn't let go.

“I don’t think so, whore.” He drops you to the ground, your hip hitting the concrete with a wet thud, landing in a questionably dirty puddle. He swiftly kicked you in the stomach, forcing a wheeze out of your lungs. You curled in on yourself.

The man was rearing up to kick you again, and you wondered if he’s actually aiming for your stomach. In a flash, you can see him missing and instead kicking your face in. You were so certain that this would be what was about to happen that you close your eyes, bracing yourself for the worst pain you would ever feel.

But the kick never comes.

Instead, you hear a deep thud followed by the obvious rustling and scuffing of boots on pavement. Then, the dull sound of punches landing on clothed skin, hushed threats spoken in a low voice.

The men aren’t laughing anymore.

“Go.” It’s not a familiar voice, certainly not any of the three men who’d attacked you. But it couldn’t be who you’re hoping it was, right?

Your bag lands beside you and from the sound of it, it was pitifully empty as the men ran away, almost splashing through the rain in their hurry to leave.

You open your eyes, blinking in the warm light of the streetlamp. You keep your gaze focused on the bricks, watching a soiled band-aid float across the puddle you were currently laying in. Gross.

Two black combat boots stepped into the circle of light, raindrops rolling off the leather onto the pavement.

So it was who you thought it was.

“You’re a bit late,” you cough, grimacing as you attempt to lift yourself. The man says nothing, which is about as much as you expected. You’d read all about him, the masked vigilante running around, trying to save Gotham.

You finally managed to push yourself into a seated position, your clothes now so thoroughly soaked you didn’t mind sitting in the puddle while you attempted to gather your thoughts. You don’t think you could actually stand right now anyway.

“They took my money.” You sighed, more to yourself than to him. “That was like, 30 hours of work.”

How the hell are you going to feed yourself for the next two weeks?

“You shouldn’t be out walking at this hour.”

You finally look up at him, the Batman, narrowing your eyes. Out of all the things he could say, he chose that? You don’t allow yourself to be starstruck, astounded by his overwhelming presence in front of you, instead choosing to be indignant about what he said. How removed from reality it was. You can’t read his expression, what with most of it covered by that mask of his. Maybe he regrets what he said, but it’s just as likely that he sees nothing wrong with it at all.

“I’m going home. I work late.”

Once again, he didn’t say anything, simply watching as you pulled yourself onto your feet. Your footing was shaky but you didn’t feel like you would keel over, at least not immediately. You could make it the few blocks to get back to your apartment.

Then your knee gave out from under you and you’re about to fall right back over when he steadied you with one gloved hand on your upper arm.

Your heart jumps in your chest, any annoyance that you had felt dissipating at his touch.

“Let me help you home.”

His voice cut through the silence between you. Wouldn’t it be nice to be escorted home by the man who saved Gotham on a regular basis? But a moment later your ears pick up the faint sound of a siren in the background and you shake your head, waking up from the awed stupor his presence had put you in.

“I think you’re needed elsewhere.” Bending down to pick up your soaked and empty bag, you gave him a soft smile. “That probably wasn’t for me.” You gesture to the signal in the sky, still projected onto the clouds. You’d always wondered who kept it lit, who decided when the Batman was needed and when he could stay in. As far as you knew, the crime of Gotham never ended. He was always needed.

“Thank you for the offer, though.” You stopped, frowning when you realized that only seconds after you’d finished speaking he had disappeared once again into the shadows.

The rest of your walk home saw your thoughts preoccupied, almost getting hit by a black sedan you’re so distracted.

The Batman had saved you. You! Somebody whose body, if it ever became just a body with no life in it, would’ve barely made a line on the fifth page in the next day’s news.

You moved like a zombie, ambling and slow, through the streets, only waking up from your daze when you arrived at your building. Old bricks with moss clinging on them towered above you, the buzzing light above the main entrance flickering.

Your apartment itself was small, sandwiched in the middle of a hundred year old building that showed its age in the worst ways. The apartment had clearly been renovated at some point to give the main space a more open floor plan, but aside from that it was pretty much exactly as it had been when it was built. Uneven door frames, cracked window panes, creaky floors. But it was your home, your safe haven in this godforsaken city.

Thrusting open the door with a decidedly unladylike grunt (your key got stuck half of the time), you threw your keys on the counter and your bag onto the floor. To your right when you entered was your kitchen, which consisted of nothing more than a few counters in the corner of the main room, complete with a stove in the middle and a fridge on the end of the row. A few nondescript magnets held papers on the fridge- grocery lists, greeting cards, your schedule, a brochure from the Gotham Museum of Fine Art.

You immediately made a beeline for your kettle, filling it with water and perching it back on the stove. In the back of the cupboard is a dusty Bella Reál campaign mug that you should really throw away but can’t bring yourself to. You don’t pick it though, instead pulling out an old Christmas mug. Turning and rummaging through your pantry cabinet, you pull out a well-worn box of Sleepy Time Tea that had been your saving grace this past year.

“God, I wish I was you.” You murmured to the tiny bear on the packet before ripping it open and throwing it into the Christmas mug.

It’s almost November. Close enough. (And you broke your only Halloween mug last week.)

As you waited for the kettle to boil, you moved to the section of the room that you have designated as your living room and office space. Against one wall was a desk with your laptop still open on it, various textbooks, and random documents scattered on its worn surface. Directly next to it (at an uncomfortably close distance, sometimes) was your TV stand with the world’s smallest TV sitting off-center. More books were stacked next to it, ranging from history textbooks to self-indulgent paperback romances. Barely six feet from the TV stand was your couch, and just behind that, with barely any walking room, was a sliding glass door.

You glanced outside the windowed door to your balcony- which was a glorified fire escape, really- and almost shrieked when you noticed a large black silhouette. Heart racing, you yanked open the door, grunting as sticks slightly in the middle. Mustering the most of your strength, you heaved it the rest of the way open.

“How did you find me?” You asked immediately, not stepping away from the doorframe, from the comfort of your warm apartment.

“I have my ways.” The Batman was mostly hidden in the shadows, only the light reflecting off the tiny droplets that had collected on his suit differentiating him from the darkness.

“That didn’t answer my question.” Really, it only raised more. But he didn’t say anything else, so you just sighed and crossed your arms, wincing as the movement sent pain across your skin. “Why are you here?”

Typically, you wouldn’t be this standoffish, even with strange vigilantes that showed up unannounced on your doorstep. But you were tired and had had a rough night- you could say with confidence that it was one of the roughest you’d ever had. Honestly, you just wanted to curl under your duvet and take a nap for three days.

You raised your eyebrows at him, daring him to be the next to break the silence before you realized that he was holding something out to you. It took another second for you to recognize what it was.

Money.

It was crumpled and it was wet but it was money.

“Is… is that mine?” You reach out to take it from him, but he doesn’t let go of it yet. You’re tethered to him, connected by a wad of damp and dirty cash. But you can’t let go of it, you can’t risk him leaving and taking your hard-earned money with him (though you doubt he would do that, given that it's yours).

“What did you do for it?” His voice is quiet in the night air, barely audible over the rainfall and whoosh of cars five stories down below. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes again.

“Honest work, I swear.” You looked up into his eyes, almost glowing in their darkness, hidden being the mask and a layer of dark paint. You wondered, in the event you ever saw him again, if you would be able to tell what color they were. “A 24/7 corner store, the one on Swift and Broad. My boss just… sucks at paying me.” On time or at all.

He released his hold on the money. You immediately draw your hand back into your personal bubble, cradling the bundle of cash against your chest as if it will disappear again. Who knows, maybe one of those insane city pigeons would swoop down from the sky and snatch it from you to use in their nest.

“Thank you.” You broke eye contact with him, looking at the bundle in your hands instead. “I’m sorry to have put you through this trouble. I’m sure there were plenty of other things to do tonight… Other crimes to stop and all.”

Ever since the Riddler’s murder spree last year, Gotham’s criminals really seemed to up the ante. Sure, before, there’d be a few weirdos every couple of years but now… now it seemed like everyone was trying to outdo one another. All vying for Batman’s attention.

If you weren’t so unnerved by it all, maybe you’d laugh. But instead, all you could wonder as each criminal was taken down and into custody… What now? Which nightmare would emerge from the shadows next?

“It was a slow night.”

“Well, I’m glad it was.” I would have been killed if you hadn’t found me.

“Clean your wounds before they get infected.”

“I will, don’t worry.” You both stand there for a few more moments, before the screech of your kettle breaks the silence. You turned to look into your apartment, sighing. “Do you want-”

But when you turn back to the balcony he’s gone, the droning of the rain suddenly deafening.

“-To come in.” You finish lamely, not even knowing what you would’ve done if he’d stayed and said yes. The mental image of him sitting in one of your mismatched chairs at the table was funny but incompatible with reality.

No, him leaving like this was better. You’d never see him again and would just remember the night where he saved you, perhaps think about it- reminisce, like a little old lady- when you saw him on the news.

You closed the door again, locking it and pulling the curtain closed. The familiar, anxiety-inducing smell of money wafts up to you and you put the roll on the small table by the sliding door, your makeshift kitchen table that saw more use as a catch-all table than as an eating surface.

When you count the money later, you may have noticed that there was more in the pile than you’d thought before. And you know for a fact that your boss would rather die than pay you more than what you were owed.

It seemed that Batman was more generous than he came across.

Sighing, you pushed aside the extra amount (almost $200 of extra amount), deciding that if you ever ran into him again, you’d make him take it back.

After all, you were beginning to suspect he hadn’t tracked down the thieves in the first place.

part two

[atd-everything-girl]

A Demigod of my own.. Ch. 1 my little seashell.

This is a fanfic about Triton from Percy Jackson series and his point of view along with an couple of ocs of mine to make the story interesting. (With a couple of my hcs enjoy!)

The prince Triton, the son of poiseden.. That was his only identity so far.. expect for that dumb Disney movie the little mermaid (he swears that movie portrayed him way too old). Triton had been feeling more insecure than ever, a thought he had heard a couple of fish gossiping about earlier 'Prince Triton takes so much pride in being poiseden's heir he's immortal it's not like he gonna die anytime soon.' and then another fish said 'you know a couple years back I heard poiseden telling that Demigod boy of his that he was his favourite son.' Triton had left not wanting to hear more (he silently destroyed those fish later on due to anger) but the thought had remained with him since had that stupid Jackson boy accepted immortality instead of telling the gods to be better parents his father would have replaced him in a heartbeat for Percy, the thought still silently terrified him though he knew that confronting poiseden and demanding to ask why a puny Demigod was his favourite; he knew that he would only be asked a thousand questions and probably punishment 'How do you know I said that? ' 'He saved olympus twice what have you ever done to become my heir besides being my oldest son?' 'He beat Ares in a fight when he was 12 tell me do you have the guts to fight Ares?' and so on Triton had silently been growing more resentful of Percy and more depressed worrying about how much importance did he really have and that his father probably couldn't care less about him in general, he'd been growing more paranoid as well. However, some help and comfort he had received due to a certain friend. A couple years back he had been answering calls on Poseidon's behalf because poiseden had some 'matters' to attend to (probably chasing a poor Ocean nymph) when a certain call by a minor god only a few years younger than him intrigued him a son of Hades called Zagreus, the younger god had been rather friendly with him and told him that they should meet sometime when he comes to the surface, Triton had agreed on the condition that they would not be up there for more than 7 hours since his mother would question him if he were and those questions would annoy him, Zagreus had told him to meet at a beach near one of the exits out of Hades's realm. They had infact met there and Zagreus said ' Dude, try assuming human form so can roam on land and we can a proper conversation ' ' what's wrong with me being in the water?' Triton had asked. 'Well I don't like sitting on sand for too long and also your face looks like a monster-like green.' 'Thank you for your honesty Mr underworld prince but I don't know how to walk on legs. ' 'come on just try it I'll teach you ' 'fine.' so he had transformed, his skin colour was a perfect tan, his Curly Black hair still tied in a high ponytail, he had some black leggings and blue sweater on and of course he stumbled a couple times but Zagreus had taught him how to walk properly soon Triton could run, for a while it has become a weekly thing Zagreus would ires-message him to meet up, Triton would make his father was too busy to notice that Triton had stepped out of his realm and then he would talk with Zagreus for hours, despite being two princes/heirs of two different realms they had a lot in common their fathers being rather neglectful and distant, them having better relationships with their mother figures,them feeling rather questionable due to their fathers having obvious Demigod favourite ism (Though a difference being that Zagreus actually liked his Demigod brother a lot), there had been a couple of times where they couldn't meet due to the war with gaea and Kronos and during approximately 2 or 3 years before Percy's intial claiming, Triton had met a certain woman a lifeguard who worked part time at wallmart, Sofia malician. A beautiful red headed woman with olive skin colour and kind sky-blue eyes. He had met her when zag had ires-messaged him and he was waiting for him. He had saw her sitting and ended up staring at her, Sofia caught him once he turned his face away, twice he turned his face away again.

[daegudrama]

Title: Route 613

Pairing: Reader/Namjoon, Reader/Yoongi, Reader/Vmin

Summary: Reader wants to be the very best Pokémon trainer there ever was. Her first stop in that journey is Paldea University home to a myriad of higher education. Still working to get over her ex boyfriend, Yoongi, reader forms new connections while making a few questionable decisions along the way. Each battle bringing her closer to the glory she's always dreamed of. Will she succeed in becoming champion or will outside forces stop her from achieving her goal?

Word Count: 7.5K

Disclaimer: Real life ages mean nothing in this fic. Refer here for ages and my shitty graphics

cross posted to ao3 here

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Chapter 1

Professor Oak looks towards you as you are the last one to enter the room. There are three other students in his office waiting to be granted the first gift of the Oak’s Club. The blinds let the fall sunlight wash over the professor’s messy desk. Faintly you wonder why he didn’t clean up before the three of you showed up. Probably not a priority for a man that quite recently moved to this region in search of further knowledge. Everything you’ve ever heard or read about him makes you want to ask him a million questions. He’s one of the most accomplished researchers in the country. Which is why you are here before you can even unpack your things at the campus provided housing. Professor Oak chose four students he thinks show exceptional promise.

He invited you here on the recommendation of his colleague, who happens to be your ex boyfriend’s mother. The same ex boyfriend that standing to your left rolling a classic pokeball between his long fingers. Serious is the only way you can describe the look on his face. It is so unlike the normal gentle expression he used to look at you with. The one you’ve loved since childhood. Your stomach drops, sending ebbs of dread through your veins. Of course, you knew you would have to see him soon but you didn’t think it would be quite this soon. The break up wasn’t clean and when he left right afterwards you weren’t sure he was ever going to come back.

The man to your right is a stranger. He is tall with impressive muscles you can see even through his loose fitting shirt. His black hair is pushed off his forehead. He looks like a model you’d see on the billboards in Levincia. The stranger radiates a calm soft energy as he smiles towards you. Something tells you he’s not from this region.

Next to the tall stranger is another man you haven’t met before. He’s a few inches shorter than the other man and has delicate features. His plump lips are pulled back into a smile as he looks around.

“Ah, you must be YN.” Professor Oak says letting his eyes drift over the four students in front of him. “This is Yoongi, but as you're from the same town I’m sure you already know that. This is Namjoon. He’s a second year student, originally from Kanto and this is Jimin. He’s also a second year student originally from Johto.”

The old man points to the tall man as he says Namjoon and the shorter man when he says Jimin.

“Nice to meet you.” Namjoon greets, his voice far lower than what you expected. The tone almost makes you forget about the man on your other side. “I’m studying growth and illnesses in Grass-Poison type Pokemon.”

“Nice to meet you, YN!” Jimin says his voice is soft and warm. There’s something almost angelic about him. “I’m studying growth in Grass and Fairy type Pokémon.”

“Nice to meet you.” You say without glancing at Yoongi. If you look at him you aren’t sure you will be able to hold it together. This summer was supposed to be about getting over him and you thought you succeeded. Obviously, you’re wrong if his presence is making you feel this way. Almost as if you are right back at square one. “I’m studying Battle Strategy and Training.”

“I’m also studying Battle Strategy and Training.” Yoongi says in an almost monotone voice like he would rather be anywhere else in the world.

The professor holds out a single pokeball with both hands. You take the pokeball, holding it gently as if this is the first time you’re holding one. In fact you have one on your belt right now with your Luxio, Spark, who you’ve been raising for several years.

“As a welcome gift to Paldea University and the Oak’s Club I have a Pokemon from my home region. This Charmander is ready for a new adventure and you are the perfect trainer for that task.”

“Thank you so much, Professor Oak. It’s an honor to finally meet you.”

The old man smiles at you before he continues speaking.

“Please meet me at the stargazing event by 7:30. The Dean has asked that I introduce you to the students before his welcome speech.”

He nods before turning to walk back to his desk and take a seat. Without another word the boys file out of the room and you follow closely behind. Yoongi darts away from the direction of the dorms you know he’s staying in. Cabo Poco is too far away to comfortably commute from.

Namjoon and Jimin follow beside you, not saying anything for a moment as they look at their newly acquired pokeballs. There is so much you are wondering about each of them, but blurting all your thoughts is surely not the right choice. When you reach the lobby of the main building Namjoon turns to you.

“If you ever need help Jimin and I live in the Indigo building.” He says stowing his pokeball away. “I’d offer to show you around but I’m supposed to meet my friend soon. See you later, YN.”

Namjoon walks through the large front door and you see him descend the many steps into town.

“I have to go too, but let me get your number. That way if you have a question about something I can help you out!” Jimin says holding out his phone to you.

Quickly, you type in your information and he smiles brightly. There’s no anxiety when around Jimin. It’s like he’s washing a calm aura over you.

“I’ll see you later, Jimin.” You say before starting the walk back to your dorm.

You will need to get supplies in town later, but for now you need to unpack your room. Though your hometown is one of the closest towns you’ve only been to Paldea University one time. On your phone you follow the map to find your building. You are so glad your mom made you save the map despite your protest.

You’ve been assigned to the Violet building. There are eight buildings a short walk away from where classes are held with studio style apartments for students to stay. Approximately 300 students live in each of the buildings named for different colors. Pink and Violet for first years, Indigo and Blue for second years, Green and Yellow for third years and Red and Orange for fourth years.

Many students are walking the same path as you. When you reach the large courtyard between the buildings you stop staring up at the tall buildings. As their names suggest each building is a different bright shade. In the center of the courtyard is a statue of Uxie, a legendary psychic Pokemon, surrounded by a fountain.

Before you go inside you let your new Pokemon out of their ball. The Charmander walks towards you tentatively sniffing the air. You squat down to their level holding out your hand in a non threatening gesture. They nuzzle their snout against your hand and you giggle.

“Should I give you a name buddy?” You stroke your hand across the back of your Charmander’s head and they make a positive sounding vocalization. “How about Sriracha?”

The flame on the tip of their tail wavers for a moment indicating happiness. Genuine happiness fills your heart knowing you get to raise another Pokemon. You’ve always wanted a fire Pokemon but they aren’t common in the area you were allowed to explore as a child. Your parents only allowed you to keep Spark. They wanted to make sure you really knew how to take care of a Pokemon and now you are ready for a whole team.

There isn’t a Fire type gym in this region but you’ve seen videos of the ones in other regions. For as long as you can remember your goal has been to become a champion then start a Fire type gym. Most of the battles you’ve done were with your classmates but you are determined to find more difficult competition here at Paldea University. Yoongi has been your only real competition for years. The two of you were the only ones who took battle strategy class seriously. It makes sense, in this world not everyone can be a top trainer.

Sriracha follows you closely with each step you take towards the Violet Building. When you get into the hallway you decide to call them back to the pokeball. There are a lot of people roaming around. Sriracha doesn’t protest, seeming nervous about all the people as well. You hope you can grow a strong bond with this Charmander.

When you get to the door with your name on it you take a deep breath before unlocking the door with your school ID. There is a small hallway leading into your room where you’ve put a rack for your shoes. You walk a few more steps inside. To your left is the kitchen, bathroom and your walk in closet. Kitchen is a strong word; it's mostly just a sink, a hot plate and a small refrigerator. The bathroom has a shower tub combo as well as a toilet, sink and mirror. It’s quite spacious considering.

To the right there is a six by six cube bookcase at the end of your bed. It acts as a nice separation from the other side of the room. Your parents left you a light pink couch and a TV with a stand that has extra storage space. It's the one that used to be in your room at home. You don’t imagine you will spend much time watching TV but the thought is nice. There is also a desk provided by the school.

One of your parents made your bed but left the rest of your things packed away. You are thankful for that. The last thing you need is to spend the rest of the day searching for your things. You sit on the couch unzipping your largest suitcase. It takes nearly two hours but eventually all your clothes and belongings find their new homes. Before going down into town for the rest of the items you need you rest on your bed.

Taking in your new surroundings you sigh wishing there was something to distract you. Seeing Yoongi after so long brought up a flood of emotions you thought you would have more time to process. Why would he accept an invitation to the Oak’s Club when he must’ve known his mother recommended you? You’ll have to see him at stargazing and every Oak’s Club event after that.

The stargazing event Professor Oak mentioned is when on the first night all the students gather on the lawn together to look at the stars. It's a good way for people to mingle and meet each other. Your parents met on their first night at this very school and all these years later they are still happily together. Is it foolish to hope that maybe the same will happen for you? But you don’t want to settle down. Being the top champion has always been your dream. Couldn’t a lover potentially get in the way?

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After resting for twenty minutes you make the trek down the many stairs that lead to Mesagoza. Spark joins you on the walk bringing you a sense of comfort in this new environment. Lots of students are roaming around town stocking up on essentials and exploring.

Once you’ve purchased all the items you need a delicious looking food stand comes into view. You purchase your food and round a corner to find a place to sit. It’s only after you’re seated that you see your ex sitting just a few tables away. You decide to ignore him and dig into your food happily. Spark lies at your feet like a guard as if he can feel your unease.

When you are wiping the corners of your mouth the chair in front of you scrapes across the ground and Yoongi sits down. He looks less serious than before but something is still different.

“Hi, YN.” He says, folding his hands on the table as he looks at you.

“What do you want?” You say harshly meeting his eyes.

“Can we please talk? I swear I didn’t have a—”

Spark is glowing like he’s charging himself to shock Yoongi. You hold up a hand to your ex boyfriend and recall your pokémon to his ball. The last thing you need is to have to explain to the Dean why your Pokémon is shocking people.

“I don’t want to talk to you, right now.” You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment to collect your thoughts. “You broke up with me out of the blue then left the region for months with no explanation.”

Yoongi nods his head before standing. He takes a few steps away before turning around and scanning you with his eyes. His voice is soft when he speaks.

“If you ever want to hear my explanation, come find me. Oak’s Club is going to make us be around each other and I’d rather we were on good terms.”

Yoongi walks away without a further word. Part of you really wants to know what he has to say, but the other part of you knows you should forget about him. You miss Yoongi but how could you ever trust him after what he did?

Back in your dorm room you put away your new items. You let Spark and Sriracha out of their Pokéballs. They get along well immediately much to your surprise. Usually, it takes a little while for different types to warm up to each other.

It doesn’t take you long to get ready for the stargazing event so you decide to eat a snack while watching TV. Spark curls up on your lap while Sriracha stays on the floor watching curiously. You vaguely wonder if they have ever seen a TV before.

At 7:15 someone knocks on your door right as you are getting ready to leave. Namjoon, Yoongi and Jimin are standing in front of your door. Seeing them standing side by side in front of you shows off their height difference. Namjoon is at least four inches taller than Yoongi and Jimin.

“Hi, YN!” Namjoon says cheerily. “I thought we could all walk over together since campus might still be a little confusing for you two.”

You greet them before stepping outside and closing the door behind you. Namjoon leads the way asking how you’ve been finding things so far.

“Not too bad.” You glance at Yoongi who once again looks serious. “I introduced my Pokémon to each other and it went really well.”

This captures both Yoongi and Jimin’s interest; they look at you with curious faces. Namjoon also looks towards you.

“You have another Pokémon?” Namjoon asks clearly surprised and you can tell that he’s excited to hear what you have to say.

“She has a Luxio named Spark.” Yoongi says before you can speak for yourself.

Namjoon almost looks annoyed that Yoongi answered for you, but quickly bounces back to ask questions. For the rest of the walk over Namjoon and Jimin talk to you about Pokémon. Yoongi doesn’t join the conversation despite having just as much to say. You know he does because you’ve talked to him for hours about Pokémon.

“Oak’s Club hello!” Professor Oak says when arrive. The four of you greet him, watching as he grabs something from a nearby table. He holds a stack of four jackets. You can see a small logo of a pokeball with Oak’s Club curved over the top. Below the ball is Yoongi’s name. “I had these jackets made so you can match while representing our club.”

Professor Oak hands each of you a bomber style jacket and you see that he’s personalized them with your names. On the right sleeve you see a Charmander. Each of you has the Pokémon you were given embroidered on the sleeve.

“Thank you so much!” You say running your fingers over the material.

As you wait for students to start showing up Professor Oak asks about your new Pokémon. You learn Jimin named his Cottonee Candy Floss, Yoongi named his Squirtle Crush and Namjoon named his Bulbasaur Bom. Professor Oak seems excited you decided to name your Pokémon. He believes it’s an important part of bringing a trainer closer to their Pokémon.

As more students are finding spots on the grass Professor Oak tells the four of you that he’s going to talk about his plans for the year as well as why he came here. After he speaks each of you is going to introduce yourself to the students and say a little about yourself.

The four of you slip into your matching jackets as Professor Oak steps onto the makeshift stage and speaks into the microphone.

“Hello everyone, my name is Professor Samuel Oak. I am from Pallet Town in the Kanto region. Moving here is the next step in furthering my research and helping nurture the budding researchers and trainers of this university. I’m excited to introduce you to the Oaks Club. A new club this year with individuals handpicked by me. Each of these students has shown exceptional potential in their chosen field with enthusiastic recommendations from my colleagues.” With over 2,000 students watching, Professor Oak is as calm and cool as when he was speaking to just the four of you. “During this year I will meet weekly with these students to discuss a variety of topics as well as give them hands-on experiences. We will be holding benefits throughout the year to raise money for different departments here at Paldea University. In winter we will take a trip to my home region in preparation for the spring excursion.”

A trip to Kanto? Excitement floods your body dreaming about what that trip could be. Professor Oak is one of the most well connected researchers in the world. You can only imagine what kind of knowledge and training he could arrange for you. Your eyes turn to your other club members. Namjoon doesn’t look as excited as you’d expect him to be. Shouldn’t he be excited to return home?

Professor Oak waves the four of you over. You follow them on to the stage and Jimin is the first to introduce himself. He looks confident like he’s spoken before this many people hundreds of times.

“Hello, my name is Jimin Park. I'm a second year research science student with a focus in the growth and evolution of Grass and Fairy type Pokémon. I am originally from Cherrygrove City in the Johto region. My goal is to better understand why grass and fairy types grow the way they do and what outside sources can effect that growth.”

The students clap and look genuinely interested. You are thrilled to be around people who care about Pokemon as much as you do. Most of the students look excited to be here and you can hear many of them talking as Namjoon steps up to the microphone.

“Hi, my name is Namjoon Kim. I’m a second year research science student with a focus in growth and illnesses in Grass-Poison type Pokemon. I am originally from Saffron City in the Kanto region. My goal is to find cures for common illnesses faced by Grass-Poison Pokemon.” His dimples show as he speaks into the microphone.

Yoongi steps forward when Namjoon steps back. He seems calm enough but you know he doesn’t like speaking in front of people like this. His tongue darts out to lick the corner of his mouth before he speaks.

“I’m Yoongi Min. I’m a first year battle strategy and training student. I am from Cabo Poco here in Paldea. My goal is to become the Pokémon League Champion.”

A roar of gasps sweeps through the crowd. It’s a big goal and everyone knows how hard it is to achieve. Even you are a little shocked that he's saying these words to so many people. Yoongi has told you he wants to battle the gym leaders but he never expressed interest in being champion. Contrary to popular belief those things aren’t mutually exclusive. Taking on the champion title requires more responsibility than just battling. Has something changed his mind in the time he was gone?

Yoongi steps back and you take his place smiling nervously as you look over the crowd.

“Hi, I’m YN. I’m a first year battle strategy and training student. I am also from Cabo Poco and my goal is to become the Pokémon League Champion this spring.”

More gasps and a few cheers can be heard from your position at the front. The reigning champion has been in his position for six years. Many have tried and failed to beat him. It would be good for the school’s reputation if one of their students finally beat the Kai Huening. You are confident that you will be that one.

The four of you move away from the microphone and find a spot in the front. The Dean starts his speech talking about the history of this school and all the things he hopes the students can accomplish this year. Trying to pay attention is harder than it should be. Your mind is racing with the possibilities this year will bring. If only it was already spring so you could start the real adventure.

When the dean finishes his speech Yoongi walks away and students surround your group. They all want to know how you go into this club and what they can do to make sure they get in next year. Obviously, none of you have any real advice. Still you tell them to make themselves stand out.

After about fifteen minutes of talking music begins playing over loudspeakers. This is your cue to lie on your back and gaze at the stars as the name of the event suggests. A few staraptor fly overhead as you watch the bright stars light up the night sky. Namjoon starts pointing out constellations and telling you stories relating to them. He reminds you of Yoongi in the way he seemingly knows a lot about a variety of topics.

When you get back to your dorm you quickly get ready for bed and collapse into the soft comforter. Despite your excitement you fall asleep quickly dreaming of battling the random faces you saw today.

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On Monday morning your alarm wakes you an hour and a half before your first class. You stretch your fingers to the sky before getting off your bed. The process of getting ready only takes thirty minutes leaving you plenty of time to head to the dining hall for breakfast.

Sriracha follows closely behind you as you navigate the array of breakfast foods available. Monday, Wednesday and Friday you have three classes: Intro to Theory of Battle Strategy at 9AM, Intro to Pokemon Human Relations at 11AM and Intro to Battle Training at 2PM. This schedule gives you plenty of time so won’t have to worry about sprinting to the next class.

Peacefully, you eat breakfast alone before heading off to your first class of the day. The lecture hall is nearly half full when you arrive. You opt for a seat in the second row several seats away from anyone that is already here.

Everyone is minding their business looking at their books or phones. The second option sounds more fun to you right now. Instagram is the first app you open where you are greeted by a picture of Kai Huening. He is standing in the snow with his Avalugg, who is just as tall as he is, smiling like there is no place he’d rather be. Montenevera, Kai Huening’s hometown, is one of the places you are looking forward to visiting the most. You’ve never had a reason to travel there but it looks beautiful and you are interested to learn about the place that raised one of the greatest pokemon trainers of recent decades.

After a few moments of scrolling you look around the room. More students have taken their seat and as your eyes scan you don’t see anyone you know. Maybe, one or two of them talked to you yesterday at stargazing but you can’t remember.

“Hi, you’re YN, right?” A girl with shiny eyes and a beautiful small face says as she sits beside you. When you nod and she continues speaking. She has short black hair with bangs covering her forehead in a way that really suits her. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you yesterday. I’m Chaewon Kim. I live down the hall from you.”

“Nice to meet you!” You reply and are about to ask her where she’s from when the professor takes her place at the front of the room.

Nothing very important is discussed during class but still you take diligent notes. If there is anything useful being said you want to make sure you have a note of it. Chaewon falls into step beside you as you walk towards the library. With little prompting she tells you she is from Alfornada, home of the Psychic gym, and is here to study battle strategy and training. There are two gym leaders in Alfornanda and the younger one is the same age as you and Chaewon. You wonder if they know each other, but decide not to ask just yet.

In the library the two of you find a table and start comparing schedules. She is in all the same classes as you. Chaewon speaks so brightly you can’t help but feel happy when speaking to her. You are happy to keep talking to her about pokemon and whatever else you can think of until it's time for Pokemon Human Relations.

When you enter your next class Yoongi is sitting in the third row on the left. You guess you knew he would be in at least one of your classes but you hoped it wouldn’t happen. Chaewon starts moving towards Yoongi and you tap her arm.

“Let’s sit over here.” You say jerking your head in the other direction. Chaewon looks confused for a moment but follows you to the other side of the classroom. Under normal circumstances you wouldn’t volunteer information about yourself but something about Chaewon makes you know she is going to be here by your side for a while. “That guy over there is my ex.”

“Isn’t he in the Oak’s Club too? That must be awkward.” She whispers eyes briefly darting towards your ex dressed in an oversized black hoodie and ripped jeans. “Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t think it’s going to be easy.” You say keeping your voice low on the off chance Yoongi can hear you from the other side of the room. You pull a notebook from your bag and settle into the seat. “It's kind of complicated.”

The professor begins class as Chaewon is starting to reply. Chaewon cuts herself off and gives her full attention to the front of the room. Much like your last class the time is spent going over the key concepts you will be covering in this course. You can feel Yoongi’s eyes trained on you and a quick glance confirms that he is in fact watching you. It’s much harder to forget his existence and what he did to you when he’s in the same room as you.

“Do you want to get lunch?” You ask, trying to get out of class as quickly as possible.

“Sure!” She pulls out her phone as the two of you walk towards the dining hall. “Isn’t the food so much better than you expected?”

Chaewon and you fall into a conversation about the different foods you’ve tried so far. Once you’ve made it through the line and chosen your food you sit at a table by the window. You tuck in to your food admiring the view until a sweet voice interrupts your train of thought.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” Jimin asks with a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I’m Jimin Park.”

He directs the last part towards Chaewon as he sits down next to you. Jimin includes both of you as he asks how your very first classes were. He seems pleased when you tell him it wasn’t hard and tells you how his professors just dived straight into the material. You almost wish your professors had done the same so there was less room in your brain to think about your ex boyfriend.

The three of you talk about your hometowns over lunch and what you are looking forward to. Chaewon and Jimin are following you out to one of the front lawns when Chaewon says something that surprises you. Though maybe it shouldn’t.

“I want to beat the Elite Four.” She holds her head tall and confident when she says this.

Battle Strategy and Training as a major isn’t always about being the best trainer in the region. There are a multitude of things a person can do with that degree. Nothing she’s said in the last few hours of knowing her would leave you to think she would want to battle them. Usually people are very upfront with that. In your experience it’s something people mention in the first twenty minutes of knowing someone. Trainers like you want people to know they think they are good enough to take on that challenge.

“That’s a really tough challenge.” Jimin says releasing his Cottonee from his ball. Candy Floss rests on Jimin’s lap letting out a happy noise. “The winter tournament alone is going to be tough competition.”

The winter tournament is to determine who has the honor of representing Paldea University in challenging the gym leaders. Of the sixteen best in the school there are only two winners. In order to qualify for the tournament you have to be recommended by a staff member and show above average battling capability. The top champion of the battles gets $7,000 and a basket filled with useful items for their adventure. Technically other students can still try to face the gym leaders, but they usually don’t. If they can’t even win against their peers it’s unlikely they would be able to defeat even the first gym leader.

“You think we don’t know that?” You ask leaning back onto your elbows in the grass letting the sun wash over your face. “You can’t accomplish this dream without an incredible amount of hard work.”

Chaewon smiles, being glad to have someone who understands her. Nothing about this is easy but it’s what makes your whole body feel excited. Raising, training and battling pokemon is what gives you the biggest sense of accomplishment and joy in your life. There is nothing in this world that you want to do more.

“If I don’t make the cut this year I will just train even harder for next year.” Chaewon says brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. She pulls a pokeball from her bag and a Seel appears. Sriracha starts shaking their ball so you let them out and they immediately start playing with Chaewon’s pokemon. “This is Pearl.”

Jimin explains his whole process of naming his pokemon and you follow up by saying the name just felt right. Your method of naming is much closer to Chaewon’s from how she explains Pearl getting her name. It's nice talking to someone who isn’t Yoongi about pokemon. A whole new perspective from two people who grew up in two places very different from your own.

“Jimin, what made you come all the way over here?” You ask, realizing you never got around to asking him that on move in day.

“There’s more opportunities for me here.” Jimin says picking at the grass under his hand. You wonder how many times he’s been asked this question since he started here last year. It must be a lot. You hope he isn’t tired of answering it. “Cherrygrove is a very small town. I could have gone to the bigger cities of my region, but none of them excited me the way Paldea does. I’ve found a lot of good things here so far.”

“I always knew I would come here.” You say looking up to the sky. “My parents met here. My journey to becoming champion was always supposed to start here.”

Chaewon’s eyes widen and she vigorously nods her head like she’s had the same thought. This launches you and her into a conversation about who your parents are. Her parents own the Seabreeze Cafe in Alfornada and have been together since they attended school here. You share some information about your parents and Jimin interrupts you.

“Like the researchers?” Jimin perks up keenly when you say your parents' names.

“Yes, do you know their work?”

Both of your parents are fairly well known pokémon researchers but for different things. Your father has spent the majority of his career studying feeding habits in grass and bug pokemon while your mother studies and practices medicine on large pokemon. She has a particular fondness for fire types which she has passed onto you.

“Of course! Your fathers paper on the long term effects of PokePuffs on combee’s really got me interested in pokemon nutrition.”

You can tell Jimin wants to ask a million questions but he restrains himself. You’ll have to remember to give him your father’s email later. He would love to talk with a passionate student about his research.

════════∘◦❀◦∘════════

Intro to Battle Training is a bit longer than your other classes. When you enter the classroom you see many of the same faces from your first two classes. Notably, your ex boyfriend is absent and for that you are thankful. Kai Huening’s younger sister, Bahiyyih, is in this class. You recognize her from photos on Kai’s instagram even though it looks like she’s giving herself a hard rebrand in the last few months. It completely slipped your mind that she’s the same age as you.

This class goes much like your others with the professor explaining key concepts and his class structure. The first few weeks will be spent entirely in the classroom. After midterms you will spend half of the class time outside or in battle areas implementing the skills you’ve learned.

He gives you one homework assignment due by the next class: Battle a trainer and write a paper detailing the points that could be improved upon based on the training categories he briefly introduced. He ensures the class the required textbook will expand on each category.

It’s been a long time since you battled a trainer. Spark has mostly fought wild pokemon and you’ve yet to battle with Sriracha. Yoongi has been your only real competition for years. Finding someone that challenges you the same way he does will not be easy. Though Bahiyyih might give you a run for your money. She was raised battling the current champion after all.

You head back to your dorm alone planning on studying for a little while. As soon as the door closes behind you, tiredness overwhelms you. After removing your shoes you make a beeline for your bed and fall asleep on top of the blanket.

Light is still streaming through your window when you wake from your nap. Quickly, you check the time and decide to go for a walk. It’ll be good to familiarize yourself with the surrounding era.

On your way out you see Namjoon playfully spraying his Bulbasaur with a squirt gun. You keep on your path not disturbing the cute moment.

The large gates that surround the school automatically open when you scan your student ID. You let Spark roam free as you walk away from the school. He seems happy to be outside but checks over his shoulder every few minutes to make sure you are still there.

Tall grass adorns each side of the path where you can see small wild pokemon roaming. You walk for nearly twenty minutes finding yourself close to the edge of the river. Your eyes scan the area for a moment before one pokemon in particular catches your eye.

According to your Pokédex app Azurill is a round, blue mouse Pokémon. It has circular ears with pink insides and there are two white dots on its cheeks. Azurill has a thin, black, zigzagging tail and a large blue ball at the end about the same size as its body.

The ball is bouncy and packed with the nutrients it needs to be able to grow. The ball can also be used as a flotation device. It can be seen bouncing and playing on this rubbery tail. The tail can also be spun around like a lasso. When the tail is thrown, the body can go as far as 33 feet. Though Azurill is typically docile, it swings the big ball on its tail to smash into opponents bigger than itself when angered. It lives at the water's edge, where they gather to splash around for fun on sunny days.

You approach a lone Azurill trying to sneakily capture it without drawing attention to yourself. Reaching into your bag your fingers find a classic pokeball and grip it tightly. Spark stays close to your side patiently watching as you fling your ball towards the pokemon. The Azurill goes into the ball, shaking it aggressively before breaking free. The pokémon bounces seeming angered by your attempt.

“Spark, can you help me catch a pokemon?” You ask planting your feet onto the lush grass with determination.

He lets out a happy cry nodding his head. Spark loves to help you in any way that he can. His posture is rigid as he wants for your command. It’s perfect that you stumbled upon a type that’s weak to electric. Not that this should be a particularly difficult battle for the pokemon that you’ve been training for years.

“Spark, use thunder shock!”

Your loyal Luxio digs his claws into the ground harnessing the electrical energy running through his body. Spark jumps into the air, bright light surrounding his form, shooting a large bolt of lightning into the air. The wild pokemon bounces into the air when the bolt makes an impact. The Azurill’s muscles are frozen by the electricity and they are floating in the air until Spark backs off at your request. The Azurill falls to the ground trying to muster the energy to fight back, but they can’t even lift their head.

You throw the pokeball again, hitting your target. The ball twitches instead of shaking and you hold your breath. Your heart races while you wait to see if the Azurill will escape. The ball stills on the ground and you retrieve it. A smile spreads across your face. A new pokemon for you to nurture.

You lean down circling your arms around Spark’s neck when you are sure the electrical charge has diminished. He rubs his head on your cheek and a giggle bubbles past your lips. You reach into your bag for a treat and hold your palm out flat while you praise Spark. Your Luxio gently pulls the treat into his mouth with an appreciative hum.

One of your greatest goals for this year, besides becoming champion of the pokemon league, is to create a bond like the one you have with Spark with all of your pokemon. It was easy to bond with Spark, but you know that might not be the case for future catches. Each pokemon is unique with their own personality, likes and dislikes.

Stomach growling, you decide to head back towards campus planning on going to the dining hall. When you are nearing the gates to the school you hear someone. When you turn you see Bahiyyih Huening and a smaller girl you don’t recognize. You recall Spark and hide behind a tree just close enough so you can hear what they are saying.

“You’ll never live up to Kai’s legacy!” The small girl says as her Magikarp tries to use tackle on Bahiyyih’s Pachirisu. The Magikarp looks like it's been shocked already and the tackle doesn’t hit very hard. “You’re always going to live in his shadow and you’re not even interesting like Lea. Just a boring student who brings shame to the Huening family.”

“You shouldn’t speak to her like that.” You say popping out from behind the tree. You can’t stand to hear another ridiculous word come from that girl's mouth. “She’s literally beating you. Your Magikarp is one hit away from being unable to battle.”

Bahiyyih looks over her shoulder and you can tell these words are affecting her more than she wants to show. She takes a deep breath and turns back to the battle at hand.

“I am my own person and I am a much more skilled trainer than you.” Bahiyyih says without a waver in her tone. “Kepi, use Thunder Shock!”

Her pokemon does as she commands and you were right, the Magikarp is unable to battle when Bahiyyih tells her pokemon to back off. The other girl picks up her pokemon and runs away without another nasty word.

“Hi, you must be YN. I’m Bahiyyih Huening.” Bahiyyih says scooping her pokemon off the ground and into her arms.

Bahiyyih has bleached her long beautiful hair giving it a soft blonde color. She is wearing a black tank top with her hometown’s name written on it and black ripped jeans. Her chunky black boots give her at least another inch of height making her tower over you.

“Nice to meet you.” You say studying the many piercings decorating her ears. “Does this happen a lot?”

She lets out an unamused laugh and sighs before she replies. Her words are slightly muffled from pushing her face into her Pachirisu’s fur.

“Yeah, it's happened three times since I got her last week.” She looks up at you as she says the next sentence. “I can show them how wrong they are but it still hurts knowing that these people have preconceived ideas about me because of my siblings.”

Bahiyyih changes the subject as the two of you begin walking towards the gate. She asks you about your classes and you realize she is actually in all your classes, not just the last one. Bahiyyih talks fondly of battling and is excited to face even more of her classmates.

“The best thing about being here,” she says once the two of you enter the dining hall and are filling your plates. “is that it's warm. At home there is snow on the ground 365 days a year. I had to buy a whole new wardrobe when I moved.”

“I really like your style.” You say loading noodles onto your plate.

Bahiyyih smiles and you can tell that it means a lot to her. Maybe she was nervous about her new style, but it genuinely suits her nicely. When your plates are full you look for a table but before you can sit down you spot Jimin waving you over.

Jimin is sitting with Namjoon and a handsome man you don’t recognize. You sit next to Namjoon with Bahiyyih right across from you. The stranger quickly introduces himself as Taehyung Kim, a second year healing major with a focus in music therapy. Taehyung is from Azalea Town in the Johto region and decided to come here because the music therapy program here is far more advanced. He and Jimin became friends last year when they were in Pokemon Human Relations together. They bonded over both growing up in Johto. They lived fairly close to each other but never managed to run into each other until they came to Paldea University.

Much to her dismay the boys already know who Bahiyyih is and aren’t surprised that her major is Battle Strategy and Training. To their credit though, not a single person asks anything about her brother. Instead Taehyung starts telling everyone a story about the time he saw a wild Gyarados that almost capsized his fishing boat.

When Taehyung finishes his story it seems that Jimin has told Namjoon who your parents are. He tells you how much he loves a very specific paper of your mothers. You feel proud knowing your new friends respect and are deeply interested in the hard work your parents do. At the same time you don’t want to talk about them all the time.

“Did you catch a new Pokemon?” Namjoon asks, looking at your three pokeballs where there used to be two.

“Just before I met Bahiyyih I caught an Azurill down by the river.”

An excited roar takes over your table as they want to know every little detail. At this moment you are so content talking about your favorite thing in the world.

[sighing-pandas]

I read a Detroit become human fanfiction crossover with the avengers and now I can't find it anywhere.

Connor and Hank get transported in the avengers universe and Connor has panic attacks and Hank becomes friends with Thor and starts hanging out with the other avengers gaming.

Can anyone please help me find it. TIA.

[batcavescolony]

Me every three or so months: let me reread every fic in this hyper specific fanfic genre for a specific fandoms

[rewritingcanon]

the amount of times i gotta pull words out of my ass to describe a shooting star when writing this fic:

[sexynetra]

WIP W(Thursday)

Hi I haven’t posted any writing in so long I’m so sorry anyways started a new story today in a panic so have an excerpt :) it should be up within the next week or two!

~~~~~~

Jackie made her way to the nearest coffee stand, needing something to distract her.

“Nervous flier?” The woman behind the counter asked as Jackie swiped her card.

“Huh?”

“You a nervous flier? You look like you’re on the verge of tears,” she said, passing over a scone Jackie definitely hadn’t ordered or paid for.

“Oh, no. I actually love flying. But I’m just here to meet my girlfriend. I’m planning to propose tonight actually,” Jackie said as she took the pastry, placing the bag carefully in her purse.

“How wonderful! Mazel Tov!” The barista gave her a kind smile and sent her off with a second free pastry. For the new fiancée, she had said.

[ancientschampionau]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Information

I am bored and so decided to go write a little thing on this as I had an idea again.

First Drabble over here. original prompt by @spotaus

Next Drabble in chronological order here

This one is around the time after the gang met back up again to return to Nightmare but found the castle starting to collapse. about a week after they left.

Also, apology in advance. I slightly re-did the story of Dream and Nightmare. Just to fit it me more. The original story you can find with Jokublog as their original creator.

Warning, unbeta'ed and unedited as always lmao

-----

Dust sighs as he glances around the empty and dark halls. The whole castle so far had been empty and deserted.

Because they had deserted him. They had betrayed him. They had-

Dust shakes the thoughts and familiar voice out of his skull. No time. They need to find somekind of clue.

Dust looks from side to side as he thinks. The four of them had searched the bottom floor together but found nothing. Horror had split up to search the forest and gardens. Cross went to search all storage rooms. Killer had went to search the basement and cellar.

Which left the normal rooms for Dust to search.

And he had found nothing. Dust groans as he slides to the ground. Where he just sits for a moment.

It didn't make sense. Because Dust had noticed stuff being gone from their rooms. Dust know one of his old hoodies disappeared but it would be the first time they had a laundry mishap. But the other rooms it felt like stuff had been missing.

But there were no signs of breakins or anything. Nothing that suggested that anyone had been here. Which probably won't be for long.

With how difficult it had been for them to even get back here... It is obvious that the magic keeping everything together and hidden is failing.

It is a matter of time before the universe is no longer hidden and then the Stars will come and mess things up even more.

Which... Nightmare most likely realised. And so he left...

Dust groans as he covers his face and thinks. Fuck. They didn't even know what was affecting boss. What had been causing him to grow weaker and younger. To cause him to lose his powers.

And they FUCKING left! Like fucking assholes and ungrateful little shits!

No wonder Nightmare decided to leave as soon as he realised this universe was a lost cause.

Dust sighs as he looks around the hall before his sight stops at one last door. The door he hadn't dared to enter.

It is stupid.

It isn't like they had been good followers before. With them just abandoning the person who had saved them from their own dying AUs as soon as he lost power.

Yet it felt disrespectful to just enter his room.

Dust shakes his skull again and gets up. He marches over to the door and pauses. He raises his hand and knocks.

No answer.

Dust waits for a moment before knocking again, a tiny bit louder.

Still no answer. Dust still waits before trying the door. He isn't sure if he wants it too open or be locked.

The door opens.

Dust stays still for a moment before pushing the door fully open. The room is dark and empty nad Dust makes sure to check all hiding places.

But still nothing.

Dust sighs before aglimmer of silver catches his eye. He tilts his skull and walks over to the bed. On it lays a shining silver band. Dust hums as he studies it and rubs some of the old dust and grim off of it. only to reveal a crescent moon.

Dust stares at it for a long time. It... it kinda looks like the crown simular to Dream's but it is so much smaller. It looks so much more fragile and dull. Dust takes a seat on the bed as he rubs the soft metal. It is clearly old. Very old. But it seems cared for.

Why... Why would he leave it?

Dust looks around the room again and stops to stare at one of the bedside tables. The drawer isn't completely shut. He pulls it over and immediantly sees that a false bottom has been removed and not bother to be put back. Dust looks at the crown and the drawer before testing it out.

The crown fits perfectly in the drawer and once shut you wouldn't even see it unless you knew it was there. He removes the crown again before turning quickly to the other bedside table. Dust dive crawls over the bed and reaches the other side.

He opens the drawer and removes all the pens and papers and notes from it. It seems to be notes on possible universes for them to raid and notes on what to pick up from where. Small 'to do' lists. The drawer is soon empty and he feels around it.

Click.

Another false bottom pops open and Dust grins as the removes it. Only for the grin to fall as all he can see is an old fairytale book. Dust puts the drawer piece to the side and takes out the book.

It is old. Older than any of Nightmare's books in his library. Older than the castle now looks. Even broken and falling apart.

Dust sits back upright and crosses his legs as he lays the book in his lap. The cover shows a large tree with a female like figure next to it. Golden letters at the top spell out DreamTale.

Dust freezes before he quickly opens the picture book and starts reading.

It is like a childrens tale. A fairytale.

A young powerful woman by the name of Nim. The keeper of emotions who spreads them across the multiverse. Who prefers her privacy. Positive and negative send out as equals and spread where there is a need.

A man. A mortal. Bold and brass. Greedy for things not his. Goes to her and demands a power he has no right to. A fight happens and Nim wins. But the cost is high.

She has been hurt. Hurt by the mortal who she had to kill. The mortal who forced her to bloody her hands. Make her guilty of a crime she never wanted to commit. With her last power she tries to create a way to continue. A way to exist. Before her, two spirts appear.

One is a golden light made of hope and dreams. positivity shines out as the spirit seems happy already. Nim smiles at them and names them Dream. As the little spirit already seems to be a dreamer and a being of hope. A name fitting for the small spirit.

A second spirit, she hadn't expected, takes form moments after the first and Nim pauses. She ends up naming this one Nightmare, only because they seem to be the oposite of Dream in ever way with their dimmer light and purple colour.

Dust stops and frowns "Wow lady. Talk about clear favouritism with your children." Dust frowns as he traces the picture of two small balls of light in the hands of the woman, Nim.

He shakes his skull and continues reading. For how old the book looks it isn't that long.

Nim felt her time nearing its end and searches the multiverse for a vessel to fit her children. Something that can withstand their magic and beings.

Many failures as he desperation hightens and hightens. Until she comes across a skeleton who just shines out with briliant positivity. She doesn't think and uses the last of her powers to recreate that form for her children.

Nim becomes one with her tree as her children begin to move their new bodies. Young and new to the world. Only been made days before. But they have one another and the tree.

Dust glares "Are you kidding me? You give them just... bodies which clearly only fit one of your sons?! What the hell lady?" Dust takes a deep breath before continuing to read. Why doesn't the multiverse know this? Most of their stories are known across it by now.

Neither Dream nor Nightmare know what to do. Both are young and only just been born. Luckily their mother is still with them to guide them. She warns them away from mortals and tells her children it is now their duty to protect her and her tree. But most important the apples that grow from it.

The golden and purple apples. The golden apples will cure any illness and body harm. While the purple apples will heal any magical illness and mental harm.

Nim tells them again and these apples can not be given away as they also hold the key to keeping the multiverse in balance concerning positivity and negativity. That Dream can only touch and pick the golden apples and Nightmare can only touch and pick the purple ones.

But that they should never eat one. Never.

Both the children look up at their mother before nodding. They promise they will do their job and duty and protect her and her apples.

Dust huffs "Wow. Child labor now lady? You are so getting the mother of the year award." he continues reading.

Time passes as Dream and Nightmare stay with the tree. The live and sleep under it and relax near it. That is until the settlers come and people make a village nearby. Nim reminds them again that mortals are not to be trusted.

Dream however wishes to meet them. See who they are and make friends. Nightmare tries to convince his twin to stay near the tree. They job is to guard it and make sure no one tries to take the apples. Dream reassures Nightmare that he can do that by himself before going down to the village.

The villagers are quick to adore Dream. It is no surprise after all. Dream radiates an aura that makes those around him happy and he is happy to help. He goes to the village daily to help around and make friends.

Nightmare however is more distrustful. He remains near the tree and makes sure no one tries to take from it. The villagers are unhappy wiht him. How dare he keep the treasures of the tree to himself. He tries to explain he can't give them the apples but the villagers are quick to leave.

Dream reinforces the rule that no one can be given an apple and the villagers seem to accept this easier.

It continues on. The village keeps expanding quickly and Nightmare shares his worry that they will eventually hurt their tree and mother. Dream nods and promises his brother he will talk with the villagers.

The villagers do not stop expanding but instead gift Dream a large cape with his symbol of the sun on it. To wrap around the tree to reinforce it is special and no one is allowed to cut it.

Nightmare and Dream happily work together to secure it around the tree.

As Dream grows more and more loved by all those around him Nightmare grows more distrusted and shunned. The villagers agree him to be a bad omen and if something bad happens it must be his fault. After all, Dream is the one who helps them and makes them happy. That must mean that Nightmare is the source of what is bad.

Nightmare tries to explain this isn't the case but no one listens. He tries to explain to Dream what the villagers say but Dream just tells him to spend more time with them and get to know them.

Words change into actions. But Nightmare stays quiet. It is no use. And he doesn't wish to make his brother sad.

Wounds and broken bones are eaisly hidden by long sleeves and excuses are easy to make up. Nightmare doens't like lying but no one beleives his truths anyway. His mother reminds him that mortals are not to be trusted but try to keep Dream happy.

It all comes down to one faithful day. Nightmare begs his brother to stay with the tree but Dream had been promised a nice cup of tea from one of his friends.

Dream promises Nightmare he will return quickly after the tea.

Dream drinks it and feels sleepy soon after.

As Dream rests the villagers band together to take what they are owned. After all. They have lived her for so long and that terrible Nightmare refused to share the apples and forbid Dream from sharing them as well.

Nightmare sees them coming and reminds them again. He isn't allowed to give them the apples. As he had reminded them for the last six years of his short life-

"Six?!" Dust stares at the word. Soul beating fast. Six. They had been six. Nightmare had been six! Those... those disgusting creatures saw a babybones. a six year old and younger before that. and decided he was a horrible creature?

Dust has to take deep breaths to calm his racing soul and thundering magic. It is no use. Contain it for now. Read. Learn. Plan. Then act.

Dust quickly finds the spot where he had left off.

As he had reminded them for the last six years of his short life. He isn't allowed to share the golden apples. He can give them a purple apple-

But as soon as he offers the villagers grow more angry. How dare he try and hurt them with those harmful apples?! The apples that no doubt will cause harm and poison them!?

Nightmare was confused and unsure what to say. None of the apples cause harm. They all have ways to help someone in their own way. They just also help the multiverse as a whole. Nightmare steels his nerves and hides his fear as he repeats what he alwyas said 'I can't pick the golden apples for you. I am not allowed. Please leave.' after which he turns and returns towards the tree.

This is when a village grabs their chance. They grab a large rock and bring it down on Nightmare's skull.

It caves nad Nightmare falls down. His head hurts and he can't seen. His soul cries out for his twin. Brother. Brother where are you? Why aren't you back. You promised. You promised me.

Nightmare watches as the villagers near the tree. His mother asking and begging him to help her. That the villagers are killing her and that Nightmare needs to do something to defend her.

Nightmare doens't know what to do. he is afraid. He will die. an apple falls near him. a golden one. and in desperation he grabs it.

The golden apple's colour changes from the beautiful gold to a sickly black. it drips and shimmers. it smells sour and feels wrong. But Nightmare is afraid. He doesn't want to die. and selfishly. Eats the apple.

Dust glares "Selfish?! Selfish?!" he seethes as he looks away from the words and back to the drawing. It looks like a pencil drawing and Dust feels slightly ill. because most of his skull is done in the drawing. the crown broken and dented next to him as the rock caused most of the tiny skull to break. his whole right side is done until just above the mouth. the broken broken edge continues right over the nose bridge and just barely misses the left socket before going all the way around.

The top of his skull had been gone.

Those... They... a six year old. a babybones.

Dust's sockets find the next line and continues on.

Once he starts to eat he can't stop. As Nightmare's own negative emotions and being had infected the pure positivity that the apples were made of. As Nightmare ate the apple all of his own negative emotions came back to him. all the pain he had felt. all the anger, sadness, loneliness and betrayal. All of it came to him and it covered him.

Selfishly, Nightmare felt safe for the first time in a while. uncaring that the very thing protecting him. Would become the undoing of everyone.

Instead of just acceptance Nightmare chose the path of destruction. Once he ate one apple he could not stop himself. He ate and ate and ate.

This is when Dream wakes up. To screams on the couch of his dear friend. He looks outside and sees the tree on fire. He rushes outside and runs towards their hill. towards his brother and mother.

Only to see the damage his brother had caused-

"Are you kidding me?!" Dust glares "It wasn't his fucking fault! Why!? How!? Why faulting him when all he did was try to finally protect himself?! To finally fight back against the abuse?! To... to... fight... the fate this stupid multiverse gave him and... and..."

To... break out of his prison... to escape...

No wonder Nightmare grabbed all of them... No wonder he freed them... and what did they do? They left him alone when he needed help.

Dust shakes and ignores the fact his own view is getting misty.

Only to see the damage his brother had caused. Dream has shocked. He had always defended his brother when the villages were rude about him. Always said that his brother was jsut shy and needed patience. only for his brother to do the very thing the villagers had said he would. That Nightmare would destroy them all.

Dream stood frozen at the edge of the field. The hill covered in the dead and blooding bodies by the cut down form of his dying mother. Dream couldn't hear any words in their mother's panicked and pained screaming.

He runs forwards and reaches for her. A hand touches his shoulder and Dream turns only to be meet with a horrifying image of a black melting creature. In his panic he strikes out and hits the being in the face.

The creature takes a few steps back before raises a hand to touch the spot where he had been hit. Dream looks up afraid before his soul gives a panicked pulse. Finally seeing just who it was and who he accidentally hit in his panic.

Dust huffs "Oh yeah. excuse all of his actions because he is afraid yet punish Nightmare for it. Real good story telling there narator."

Nightmare, now corrupted, pauses before turning back to the tree that had been cut down, their dying mother. And pulls off another apple before he eats it as he stares at his brother 'Well look at that. The betrayer finally showed up. Had enough of leaving your brother to deal with everything alone? With the pain on his own? Wanted to hurt him yourself I see.'

Dream shakes as he holds out a hand 'Nightmare. Nightmare please. stop this. this isn't you.'

Nightmare tilts his skull at his brother. negativity dripping of his form. No longer hurting from physical wounds. all that burns through him is rage. Dream had left him. Dream had never been there for him. Ngihtmare smirks. 'You finally decided to see what your brother is doing? What is wrong? Wanted to make sure your dear friends had time to hurt him first? As always? Because he deserved it?'

Dream shakes 'I don't understand... why...' something hits his foot. Dream looks down and sees another apple. another golden apple. He reaches for it and picks it up. Unlike with Nightmare it doesn't get corrupted. Dream's being is perfect for the positivity and the healing it provides.

Nightmare eyes the apple before looking at Dream 'Give me that.'

Dream shakes his skull and hugs the apply close. Only for his soul to absorb the positivity. Nightmare glares but ends up laughing loudly. Dream takes a few steps back but Nightmare just smirks 'Fitting. Even when your own brother is dying you will defend those stupid villagers first.'

Dream shakes as the apple is now part of him and part of his soul 'Dying? Nighty... please i don't understand.'

Nightmare doesn't react as he turns towards the village, where more ligths are on 'That is because you never listened.' and Nightmare left towards the village. To hurt those.

Dream tried to follow but the negativity around him made him weak. The negativity his brother caused and powered made him lose his powers. With shock he realised that he was turning to stone. Dream tried to reach for his brother. To call for him.

But nobody came.

It isn't until many many years later that Dream breaks free of his stone prison. One of his old villagers friends helps him out fo the stone and tells him all abuot how Nightmare had destroyed everything in a fit of jealous rage.

Dream shakes and says it must be something else. that Ngihty would never. He begs that it must have been the apple. That eating the apple corrupted him. That the corruption must have destroyed him and taken over and done all those terrible things.

His friend asks him what he plans to do now.

Dream thinks before deciding that he will find a way to fix the corruption. the cure Nightmare and fix all the wrongdoings he has done.

The years that follow Dream grows into a formiddable warrior of light and hope. Someone who holds the care for everyone in his soul and meant to battle the darkness. Dream promises himself that he will save his brother from the corruption and makes sure everyone has their chance for a happy future.

The end

Dust stares at it. What about the balance? What about the fact that Nim clearly set one up for success and the other for failure.

What about the fact that Nightmare had been six and had been abused for years on end until that tiny six your old broke under the pressure.

That that same corruption everyone feared was the one thing keeping him safe and giving him power?

Dust stares at the pages for a long time. Things starting to shift around in his mind as a clearer picture starts to form.

"Dusty? Are you here? Found anything?"

Dust traces the crown and feels a small dent and finds the fixed cracks.

All this time he had been working on the balance and trying to right his own wrongs. That had never been wrongs, at least not in Dust's opinion. The wrongs a desperate child made o finally feel safe.

And the very multiverse and fate decided to punish him for it.

Dust's grip tightens on the crown. And they had abandoned him. As soon as his powers started to leave. No doubt the magic of the apples reaching their limits. As soon as Nightmare started to return to his original form. They abandoned him.

Nightmare is somewhere in the multiverse. As the original version of himself. the version he was before he ate the apples. six years old and probably hurt.

Woudl he even have his memories?

"Dust?"

Dust looks up from the book and sees three familiar faces in the doorway. Cross frowns as he takes a few steps closer "You are... crying."

Dust doens't bother to fix it as he feels the book "Nightmare... Nightmare was never an adult."

Shock as Killer is suddenly by his side "Waht the fuck do you mean?"

Dust just hands both the book and crown over as he speaks "He was suposed to be six." he nods at the book "See that name? Notice any specific pattern?"

Killer stares "Dreamtale-" he stops and stares at them as he points from person to person "Dusttale, Dust. Horrortale, Horror. X-tale, Cross." Killer stops and stares down "Dreamtale..."

Dust nods "I don't think... I don't think Nightmare was ever originally meant to leave his story."

Killer opens the book and starts reading. Dust sees Horror and Cross join him as well. That is okay. Dust needs a moment.

They are going to have to find him before Nightmare finishes referting back to his real age. Dust does not want to know if those wounds that he had had would remain.

----

First. (and prev) Next.

[theycallmequeenie]

Charmed One x Gabriel Crossover

Master List

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight:

She appeared in the same spot that Gabe had been with Cas earlier that day. She didn’t know why this was where she landed but she did note to herself that the view was incomparable to any she had seen before. She spun in a circle taking in the sight of the Bay below the bridge pondering if a speck she saw was Alcatraz or not before sitting herself down and just watching the sights below her just to avoid any unwanted outcome from her visit here. She wasn’t the steadiest on her feet and happened to be a but if a klutz from time to time. As she sat watching the water, she gently pulled her knees to her chest again noting that she wouldn’t be able to sit like this for very much longer. Then the thought creeped into her mind that she probably wouldn’t be alive for very much longer either. She knew what happened in her world when angels got their human partners pregnant. It always ended badly. Whether it was when the child was born or before, from the other angels tracking the partner in question down and eliminating the partner and the ‘abomination’ the partner was carrying.

As she sat her mind wandered to the other part of her current situation, she found herself in, newfound family and powers. She couldn’t wrap her head around the fact she wasn’t entirely alone, beside the Winchesters and the two angels, in the world. Three older half-sisters. She knew it was farfetched but not entirely impossible, she had never known her mother or even seen a picture of the woman. She thought over the physical appearances and noted to herself the similarities between her and each of the sisters she had met that day, pondering just how many she had gotten from her mother. Until this point in her life, she had thought she looked like her father’s family and had none of her mothers’ features. She had been proven wrong today.

She hadn’t noticed how much time had passed nor has she noticed that she was not longer alone up on her little perch. She heard a malicious laugh behind her and immediately sent out the call for help to Gabriel and turned to see an ill intending angel with a wicked smile on their face. Y/N scrambled to her feet trying to stamp down any panic that quickly bubbled up.

The enemy angel spoke and spit their words like a serpent spit venom, “My my my Y/N. How foolish of you to be out here in the open all by your lonesome without your boyfriend or anyone else to protect you and your little growing abomination. Oh, this is going to be so easy to take care of…” They laughed again and stalked toward Y/N watching as she stepped away from them and closer and closer toward the ledge. The angel knew exactly what they were doing. If they were menacing enough the problem would just take care of itself and they wouldn’t have to get their hands dirty in the slightest. It would appear to her archangel boy toy that she jumped instead of her being killed outright by another angel, at least that was what this angel hoped. Watching as Y/N reached the edge and teetered slightly, chuckling to themself when she caught and rebalanced herself trying to keep herself from falling over the edge.

The angel lunges at her and she falls backwards off the top of the top of the bridge first she screamed out for Gabriel and then she called out for her newfound brother-in-law. It was Leo that was able to answer her call first. Catching her midair and orbing them both safely to the ground to profuse thankyous from Y/N. When her feet touched the ground both of them heard feathers rustling, Leo not knowing if it belonged to friend or foe he shielded Y/N with his body and turned to face the one responsible for the sound only to find a panic stricken Gabriel waited rather impatiently to get to Y/N and make sure that she was okay as well as beating himself up for not being there to keep her safe. She had to rely on her brother-in-law to save her from impending death. He was angry with himself and terrified for Y/N.

When Leo moved from between them Gabriel all but tackled Y/N and held onto her a little tighter than he intended to and failed to realize until she was tapping his shoulder begging for air reminding him, she needed to breath to continue living. He loosened his grip on Y/N just enough to let her breath comfortably but still holding onto her tightly afraid she would be in danger again if he let go of her.

He and Leo spoke about what had occurred and Leo questioned him about what happened that she had been up there by herself. Reminding them both that this situation could have ended very badly.

Gabriel was starting to get hot under the collar from the lecture that he was being given. He knew full well what almost happened and was already beating himself up internally for his mistake. That seemingly was all he’d been capable of making lately when it came to Y/N.

Finally, he’d had enough and decided to remind Leo who he had been lecturing. Speaking in a rather unpolite and unapologetic tone he let loose on Y/N’s newfound brother-in-law, “Yes Leo I am fully aware of what just happened and what could have. I’ve been around for literal centuries. Since the beginning to be exact. Ya know, the whole Archangel thing. I was there when Dad flipped on the lights around here. And yes, I am acutely aware of what almost happened here. And had I not known that you had her I wouldn’t had taken the time to smite the one that tried to kill her!”

Y/N reached out a cautious hand at this point trying to calm Gabriel down. She gave Leo a nod of gratitude and a knowing look before speaking up, “Gabe, how about we argue about this tomorrow and head back to the hotel for the rest of the night. I had some time to clear my head lets go enjoy out last hours of solitude and peace before the chaos of living in a house with people we barely know starts up…”

Reluctantly Gabriel turned to look at her and agreed with her snapping them back to their room and into the bed…

To Be Continued…

Part Nine

@disfunctionalcellmembrane  @misskitty1912-blog​