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scarletskiesinthepaths · 24 days

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Levi’s Childhood: “Bad Boy”, The Underground, Kuchel, and Kenny—What Are the Implications?

Content Warning: Discussion of rape, sexual abuse, and sex trafficking

“Bad Boy” makes it even more explicitly clear that the Underground was no place for a child. From the “Bad Boy” panels alone, it is evident that Levi likely had constant people preying on him at all times—especially before he awakened his Ackerman powers. All these men Levi encounters here had no issue beating a child to (near) death or selling him into sexual slavery. Similar to the way it is portrayed in the “A Choice with No Regrets” storyline, the Underground is also described by Levi as “hopelessly dirty” with “rotten air”.

It is significant to note here that Levi was well-known for being a prostitute’s son; all of those men were aware of Levi’s relation to Kuchel, even before Levi himself made it clear. They wanted to traffic him for that reason. In terms of speculation, it is very believable and even highly probable that Levi experienced sexual assault and rape before he awakened. Having grown up in a brothel with his mom, and now further seeing how common sex trafficking in the Underground was and also Levi’s infamy for being a prostitute’s son—there is no doubt that Levi was exposed to extreme levels of sexual violence regularly, whether it be him being witness to it, him experiencing the direct threat of it such as in “Bad Boy,” or him experiencing the actual act. The trauma of this is impossible to overstate. It seems the most likely, however, that Levi has had direct personal experience with the act itself, as men would have likely continued visiting “Olympia” after she died (and before Kenny appeared), and upon discovering she was no longer a viable option to have sex with, some of those men would have set their sights on Levi, who was a helpless child in the process of starving to death.

The men in “Bad Boy” spoke about Levi as if he was born strictly to live a life of sexual slavery, referring to him as a “whore’s child” and discussing how they’d be able to profit from making him do the same job as his mother, saying he may have “inherited her talents”. Levi had probably heard this sort of language used in his presence before. As such, it would not be surprising if Levi had learned to expect this sort of treatment, as if he was placed in the world solely to suffer. Levi would have sought out a reason for this—why must he constantly be subjected to suffering? Is it because there is something wrong with him? If that’s the case, what specifically is wrong with him? It is important to consider as well that Levi’s entire sense of identity at this point was wrapped up in being the son of a prostitute and being raised by a serial killer, who may or may not have been his father.

The violence Levi was subjected to in “Bad Boy,” such as having his head repeatedly smashed against the ground with a fist, would have most certainly resulted in his death, or at the very least, permanent brain damage, had Levi’s powers not awakened in that moment. However, what’s notable to me during all of this is the absence of Kenny’s presence. This indicates that Kenny would leave Levi alone in the Underground for significant enough periods of time that Levi still had the opportunity to find himself in situations of extreme danger, situations such that would have resulted in his death. Given what we know about Levi’s childhood from Kenny’s recollection of it in the main series, Kenny would subject Levi to fights against fully grown men in order to develop Levi’s combat skills and likely prompt his awakening. It is also clear in these “Bad Boy” panels that Levi already knew how to fight, given the way he initially tried to protect himself from being beaten by all those men. He was, however, helpless in protecting himself, given the deep disadvantage he had from being a child, as well as being faced against multiple opponents. Levi’s combat skills after his awakening also demonstrated he already had significant training. The responsible thing for an adult in Kenny’s position would have been to, not teach Levi how to fight, but remove him from the environment that necessitated that knowledge in the first place.

Needless to say, this practice was cruel and immensely abusive. The amount of psychological damage and self-worth issues this would undoubtedly cause Levi are immeasurable. It was Kenny’s responsibility to protect Levi’s childhood innocence, but it is because of Kenny’s actions (and inactions) that Levi was placed in a position of having to kill multiple men as a young child. Kenny may have saved Levi from the imminent death of starvation, but his abuse and abandonment ultimately caused Levi more harm than good in the long-run; he taught and exposed Levi to a life of violence. Indeed, Kenny wanted Levi to be a force for violence. That is all he ever modeled for Levi and desired from him, even though he had the capability of sparing Levi from such experiences. However, it speaks to Levi’s innate goodness that he still loved Kenny after all he was made to suffer by him and even forgave Kenny by the end.

The awakening of Levi’s powers demonstrated to Levi the idea that he was an agent of destruction and a monster. Recall back to the moment during the “Uprising” arc when a man accuses Levi of being such and Levi simply responds, “Maybe I am”. Levi’s awakening was described by Levi as a form of dissociation, as if he was not fully aware of what he was doing. Consider his words here: “I didn’t think it was strange that something had happened to me at the time. The pain in my head disappeared and I felt calm, as if my head was submerged in water. And the idea of what to do came to mind. But I just followed the instinct and acted accordingly.” And yet, Levi likely blames himself for the brutality of which he killed his attackers, despite acting in self-defense and having no other recourse. It was an answer to his question: what is wrong with him? He must be a monster. Being forced into such a situation as a child would instill this view in Levi that he was born into his life only to bring suffering to others. That is why he suffers in turn.

This perception of an inner monstrosity in Levi is furthered by what the man in the glasses tells him directly after this: “Stop doing things that will make your mother in heaven sad!” Levi’s impression of Kuchel, his mother, was the one thing that brought him comfort in his life. He remembered her “elegant” posture. With these man’s words, even that one comfort was lost to Levi. Now the thought of his mother would instead be associated with the idea that she would view him as bad—that she would have seen his “murderous” actions and would cast judgment on him. This is completely incorrect, of course. The only reason Levi even awakened his strength was because he was protecting his mom’s image from the cruel words the men were speaking against her. Levi was severely beaten to near death, all because he loved his mom essentially. Think of the tragedy of that; Levi was directly punished for loving someone. This further demonstrates that innate goodness in Levi—how he continues to love and care about others, despite the immense suffering it’s brought him over and over. To further the tragedy of all this, it is evident that Levi still views his mother with fondness, in spite of the belief that she would hate him. Levi purposely seeks out the brothel in which he grew up with her, undoubtedly filled with countless awful and traumatic memories, in order to feel closer to her presence.

After Levi’s awakening, Levi soon after finds himself in yet another fight, and it is this moment that Levi watches as Kenny walks away and abandons him forever. Levi thought Kenny wanted him to become strong. He thought his strength would earn him Kenny’s acceptance, but instead, he was met with his rejection. If Kenny still didn’t love him even after becoming strong, that once again proved to Levi that there was something deeply wrong with him. Similar to the way Levi would come to associate his strength as the thing responsible for making him a “killer” and ruining his mother’s perception of him, Levi would likely form the association that his physical strength led directly to Kenny abandoning him. Moreover, what was the purpose of his strength? Levi did not want to use it to bring suffering to others.

Levi discovered on his own that his strength could be used to help others—to protect. This is incredibly significant because Levi was literally taught the opposite his whole life: that it made him a monster, that its only purpose was for saving himself and bringing death and destruction—he was taught even that that’s something he should desire. Somehow, despite all that, Levi still found a way to use his strength for the benefit of others. Although, this highlights a further tragedy in Levi. As demonstrated earlier, Levi was taught that it was the normal state of the world, the status quo, for him to be abused; he learned that this treatment of him was, not only happening because it was something he was somehow meant for, but also happening because he was some abnormal monster. Levi desiring to use his strength for others does not negate Levi’s own negative perception of himself. All of the events in Levi’s childhood taught Levi that he had no worth, and that is indeed the way we see Levi treat himself throughout the entire series.

Levi never once defends himself against people’s cruel words against him. Think back to the way Mikasa said it was Levi’s fault that they had lost Eren in the “Female Titan” arc directly after Levi had lost his entire squad; think of the way Levi accepts Dieter’s words against him and Erwin about being “devoid of humanity” in the aftermath of the Female Titan’s attack; think of how Levi accepts the negative way the people of Trost and the merchants were speaking against him; and as mentioned earlier, think of the way Levi accepts being called a monster during “Uprising”. Levi directly refers to himself as “abnormal” as well during that same arc. There are countless more examples of this. Levi fights during the Battle of Heaven and Earth, despite being grievously injured already. It is because of this that he ultimately ends up in a wheelchair. Levi fights for other people to the complete detriment of himself. That is pure selflessness. Levi treats himself as completely devoid of worth, despite seeing so much worth in others. As such, Levi dedicates everything he has, even if it would result in severe damage to himself; he views himself as expendable. It is clear too that Levi views himself as unclean from all the blood he has on his hands and all the filth he was surrounded by growing up. It was his “dirty” hands after all that killed all those men and led to his mom’s teacup breaking at the end of "Bad Boy"; a sign of his inner badness.

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andtosaturn · 7 months

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cellphonehippie’s october prompt list 2023 — day 22: fame/infamy

#taylor swift #tswiftedit #cphpromptlist #usercellphonehippie #useraprilh #usercruellesummer #ayastag #hauntedbythelook #pmoreuserlupe #1989tv #1989 #anti hero #sweeter than fiction #flashing gif #*#*graphics #i made these in half an hour so they are bad pls forgive :)#and they're a few days late oops

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dramioneasks · 1 year

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Top 10 Most “Kudos-ed” (Completed) Fics on AO3 of 2022:

Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in Love by isthisselfcare - E, 36 chapters, Words: 199,644 - Hermione straddles the Muggle and Magical worlds as a medical researcher and Healer about to make a big discovery. Draco is an Auror assigned to protect her from forces unknown – to both of their displeasure.Features hyper-competent, fiery Hermione and lazy, yet dangerous, Draco. Slow burn.

Measure Of A Man by inadaze22 - E, 42 chapters, Words: 590,655 - To truly know someone is to differentiate between who they once were, who they are now, and who they're capable of being. Hermione realises the duality of one man as she rectifies what she knows of the past and begins to understand the pieces of who Draco Malfoy is now: a father, a son, and a man.

Season Pass (To This Ass) by mightbewriting - E, 6 chapters, Words: 16,390 - “What do you mean you didn’t get me a ticket?”Ron’s hand flew to the back of his neck, massaging a red splotch just above his collar, flushing out his freckles. “I mean, I—well, it’s not like you enjoy Quidditch all that much.”“I went to every match you or Harry played in at school.”“Quidditch is my hobby, not yours.” [In which Hermione dumps a Quidditch fan and dates a Quidditch player instead. Spite is a beautiful motivator.]

A Season For Setting Fires by mightbewriting - E, 31 chapters, Words: 95,640 - Torture smells like spring.Like daffodils and tulips and snowdrops. Like the bouquets brought inside from the manor gardens to lend their life to cold stone walls that house criminals. Easter mixed with madness makes sense in this twisted landscape; Draco’s only chance at survival is to endure it. He knows this. But that doesn’t quell the twitching in his calves, the flexing in his fingers.Granger lifts her hand off the floor and Draco nearly loses his lunch, stomach churning as he watches her extend her arm, reaching through the translucent cord, reaching towards him. He tries to blink it away, blink blink blink, but both she and the cord are stubborn, persistent things. [In which a soulmate bond appears while Hermione is tortured at Malfoy Manor. Canon divergent from that moment onward.]

Anthology by senlinyu - M - Assorted prompted ficlets of varying lengths. All Dramione. Ratings and any relevant warnings are listed in the chapter summary of the particular ficlet.

Meet Your Match by morriganmercy - E, 26 chapters, Words: 121,611 - After the war, Draco Malfoy seeks refuge from infamy in the Muggle world. A friendly Muggle couple takes him under their wing, but there’s a problem: they are intent on setting him up with their best friend, Hermione Granger. Or, in which the Muggle friends Hermione Granger undoubtedly would have had will not take no for an answer.

Ten out of Ten by morriganmercy - E, 16 chapters, Words: 61,559 - "On a scale of one to ten, how comfortable would you say you are with me physically?" she asked. "Zero." Hermione's lips pursed in annoyance because she really should have seen that coming. How charming that the extent of his arseholery could still surprise her.In which Hermione is determined to find a loophole to free her from a forced marriage with Draco Malfoy. But with only two weeks until they are legally required to consummate, it would be irresponsible not to prepare for every contingency.

Nothing Good Happens After 2AM by LovesBitca8, nikitajobson - E, 2 chapters, Words: 8,574 - And in the heartbeat that he didn't return the kiss, Hermione saw the rest of her school year flash before her eyes. The embarrassment, the teasing. Her chest constricted at this terribly awful thing she just did — kissing Draco Malfoy.*Fic / Art Collab with NikitaJobson. Two-Shot

Happy Pills by malf0y101 - E, 41 chapters, Words: 285,587 - A few years after the Second Wizarding War, a group of Slytherins is drafted into a rehabilitation program created by the Ministry of Magic and one of its determined interns--one of their former classmates and the familiar Golden Girl of Gryffindor. As their marks continue to cause physical and mental pain, the Slytherins undergo intense treatment in order to relearn everything about the Wizarding World and tackle the trauma of their Dark Marks.And although they are apprehensive, they are also desperate for someone to simply care about them.

for the best by HawthorneWhisperer - M, 19 chapters, Words: 49,105 - She wore that Granger expression, the one that said she was going to bully someone into something. Draco had a bad feeling it was about to be him. “I’ll marry you,” Hermione said. “Don’t be ridiculous.” “I’m not doing it for free. I marry you, then after a year we divorce and you agree to fund S.P.E.A.M.B. In perpetuity.” “Out of the question.” “It’s just one year. We would both get what we want.” “Contracted marriages require consummation,” he said, adding a leer for good measure. Granger had gotten more attractive since their Hogwarts days, he would give her that much. Her jumper was atrocious, though. He had half a mind to burn it. To his everlasting shock, she merely shrugged. “It’s just sex. I’ve had it before and I presume you have too.” She was utterly serious. Draco stared at her and contemplated being married to her. She was irritating and he might make her promise to never wear that jumper again, but it was better than the alternative. Draco would do just about anything to avoid being poor. “You’re serious?” “Completely.” “Then congratulations, Granger. You've got yourself a husband.”

#dramione #year wrap up #ao3 #favourite fics #2022

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madmanwonder · 2 months

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Prompt

Fusion Slavery: Combat Slave & Gladiator Slave AU

Pyrrha has been a gladiator and a combat warrior for a long time but always avoided being a slave for someone specific. Of course when the Arc family wants to get her for their only son she goes to decline... until she sees Jaune himself and it is instant love and she changes her tune. He is reluctant in owning a slave... but Pyrrha is insistent on this.

Love At First Sight Meme

As long she can remember. She was both gladiator and combat warrior slave who earn fame and infamy for being masterless slave who gone unattached to anyone in specific...

"I am Jaune Arc. As of today, I'm your, uh, first actual and permanent master...." Jaune said in a sheepish tone of voice, looking at her with big bashful grin and wide-eyed blue eyes that stare at her with friendliness and compassion.

...Until the Arc Family bought her for her combat skill in hope of protecting their sole son and perhaps teaching him few combat skills so he would die prematurely. Pyrrha knew of this, but as she look at the blonde man no older than her with blank look on her face but beating heart...

"My name is Pyrrha Nikos. Combat and Gladiator Slave..."

...it was at the moment she had fallen deep in love with the man who will be her first and last master as long she breathes.

#rwby #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #fusion au #fusion au prompt #slavery au #slavery au prompt #combat slave au #combat slave au prompt #gladiator au #gladiator au prompt #slavery #master/slave #love at first sight #love at first sight meme #meme post #meme prompt

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raaorqtpbpdy · 1 month

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Highway Home

Jazz and Kyle have a little chat about their brothers after the brothers in question leave the two of them stranded on the freeway and forced to walk home.

Based on the prompts: Jazz and Kyle are stuck wandering the freeway after their brothers show up and steal Kyle's car. [from @camels-pen], and “So how do you feel about the fact that ‘that Fenton kid’ always refers to your little brother, whose infamy has made him far more well-known in the school than you?” ...Maybe Jazz wants some crazy rumors too. [from @dragonsdomain]

Read also on AO3

[Warning for death threats (to siblings), and a creepy guy showing up for a hot minutes, but thankfully Jazz and Kyle aren't stupid]

"Well that just happened," Kyle Weston said flatly as his car drove away with his brother and that Fenton kid inside, apparently chasing after something, although Kyle hadn't seen what.

He looked to his side where the other Fenton kid was standing with her arms crossed, looking only mildly annoyed, given the circumstances. She had been catching a ride with him back from the academic decathlon team victory party—they'd kicked Elmerton Central High's ass, and Jackie Calloway threw a huge party at his fancy house in Polter Heights to celebrate.

The party had been awesome, but Kyle wasn't really a night owl, so when Jazz—the team's MVP—said she was gonna head home early, and then her parents wouldn't pick up the phone, Kyle offered to give her a ride.

Now the two of them were standing on the side of the freeway as it grew steadily colder and darker. Which was... significantly less awesome than hanging out at Jackie Calloway's party.

Even so, the two of them knew their respective brothers well enough that a circumstance such as this was all but expected at this point.

"Guess we're walking home," Jazz said with a sigh.

Kyle groaned, but didn't outright complain as the two started to walk along the side of the freeway toward home. The cars on the road passed them at frighting speeds, throwing gusts of wind their way that did nothing to combat the rapidly cooling evening air.

"At least it's only one more exit," Jazz pointed out optimistically.

That one more exit was over a mile away, and they would have to walk the whole way like this. Kyle hadn't even had the chance to grab his jacket when Wes forced him out of his own car, yelling that it was some kind of emergency.

"Wes doesn't even have his driver's license yet," Kyle grumbled. Wes only had. a learner's permit because he spent all his time screwing around with Danny Fenton instead of doing driving lessons with Dad. "If he wrecks my car, I swear I'll kill him."

"I wonder what all the rush was," Jazz said thoughtfully. "They didn't exactly explain much when they kicked us out. I hope they'll be okay."

Kyle really didn't understand what Wes' deal was with the Fenton kid. It seemed like Wes hated him one day, but they were buddies the next, and then enemies again a week later. He hoped they either made out, or broke up, or whatever needed to happen to make the two of them chill out.

He looked over at Jazz again, and reminded himself for the second time that she was a Fenton kid, too. He wondered if it ever made her self-conscious, that even though she'd been going to Casper High for tree years compared to her brother's one, his reputation was so much more significant than hers.

Sure, pretty much everyone knew Jazz Fenton. Her tutoring list was substantial, so a lot of students even knew her personally, but if they didn't, most still knew of her. Kind, helpful, in line to be valedictorian, highest scorer ever on the CAT exam. But people knew Jazz in the back of their minds, whereas what they knew of her brother was front-and-center. His reputation spread far and wide, so basically everyone in town knew of him.

The passing cars had been too loud to let them carry a conversation, but when there was a lull in traffic, Kyle figured he might as well take the opportunity to ask while it was just the two of them.

"So hey... does it ever, like, bother you that when people say 'that Fenton kid', it always refers to your little brother?" he asked. "I mean like, how does it feel that his infamous reputation has made him way more well-known around school than you are?"

Jazz side eyed him, pulling her cardigan closer around her.

"I'd think of all people, you'd know," she replied. "Aren't you basically in the same situation with Wes? I don't think I've ever heard anyone say 'that Weston kid' and mean you."

"Fair point." He shrugged. "But still, I'm curious. Same situation, different people right. Maybe you feel differently about it than I do."

"Alright, I'll bite," she relented. "But you've gotta tell me your feelings on the matter so we can compare. Otherwise, it's not very scientific."

"Deal," Kyle agreed immediately.

Another car drove passed, and they paused their conversation until the Doppler effect had faded enough for them to be hear.

"So how do you feel about it?" Kyle prompted once it was gone.

Jazz looked into the distance, her lips pursed in consideration, and then she shook her head.

"I don't know really," she said. "I guess mostly I'm just concerned for my brother, you know? What if this reputation he's developed as a weirdo and a troublemaker follows him into college and his future career? What if it prevents him from being able to network with people, and make new friends? But also...."

"Yeah?" Kyle encouraged, sensing that this 'also' was gonna be pretty juicy.

"Well... maybe I want some crazy rumors too, you know?"

A car drove by right as she started to reply, and she had to yell to be heard.

Kyle put on an incredibly satisfied grin at that. He was right. That was a juicy 'also'.

She waited for the noise to fade before continuing.

"I mean, there are people at our school who genuinely, unironically believe that my brother's bladder can predict ghost attacks," she said. "How nuts is that? Your brother swears up and down that Danny is a ghost himself. And ever since all that pirate stuff, the entire freshman class thinks he's some kind of ghost hunting badass, even though he still gets bullied by the football players.

"There are people on the academic decathlon team—some of the smartest, most logical kids in school—who are completely convinced, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Danny is some kind of bad luck charm, because of a series of total coincidences that happened when he sat in on one of our practices. None of them were even remotely his fault, he was just waiting around so I could give him a ride home from school because he sprained his ankle.

"Obviously, I don't want people thinking I'm bad luck, but maybe something just a little weird going around about me would be fun," she finished. "Or make me seem like a little less of a goody-two-shoes at least."

"You want some kind of bad girl reputation?" Kyle teased.

"Well... no," Jazz said, half-shrugging and half nodding. "I like being a goody-two-shoes, but that's not all I am, you know? I can be just as creepy, and badass, and mysterious as Danny can." She punctuated her statement with a pout that was neither creepy, nor badass, nor mysterious.

Kyle shook his head and chuckled.

"To be honest, I don't get what the deal is with our school's obsessive ghost superstition," he said. "I've got a lot of friends online in gaming groups and I've never met anyone as adamant about the existence of ghosts as our classmates at school. I don't know if it's a gimmick, or some cultural thing I missed out on, or what, but it's so over the top."

Jazz laughed out loud, although, for the life of him, he couldn't tell if she was laughing with him or at him. She didn't say anything though.

He knew that she used to be just as much of a staunch skeptic as he was, but at some point in the last year, public opinion on the existence of ghosts had shifted dramatically, and he wasn't sure if her opinion had shifted with it or not. Even if she did believe in ghosts, at least she wasn't as much of a fanatic about it as everyone else was. At least she never spent an hour trying, unsuccessfully, to convince Kyle that ghosts were real.

"Alright, I've said my piece," she told him with a smile like she was humoring him. "Your turn. How do you feel about your brother being so much better-known around school than you are."

"Hmm...."

Kyle thought about it for a moment, his brows furrowed under the edge of his baseball cap. He probably should have thought about it before. It wasn't like he didn't know this was coming.

"I would have to say... I guess I'm like, half annoyed, and half relieved."

"Interesting," Jazz replied. "Elaborate."

Another car drove by, and they both shivered in the wind it blew their way. It was fully dark now, and Kyle was really regretting the fact that he hadn't thought to grab his Jacket when they got stranded.

When the chill passed, and the sound of the engine faded, Kyle chuckled to himself.

"Alright, sure," he allowed. "I'm annoyed because most of the people I talk to, when I mention Wes, they immediately recognize his name, and then they say they didn't even know he had a twin brother. So like, at least people know you exist, even if your brother's more well-known than you are.

"And I'm relieved because have you heard Wes' reputation?" Kyle all but snorted. "People think he's a total nut-case, some kind of raving mad conspiracy theorist. I'm much happier to wallow in anonymity than be the target of constant mockery. He's got such a reputation that people won't even believe him when he says something objectively cool.

"In computer class one time, a girl remarked that she hadn't seen any ducks at the pond in the park lately, and Wes said that was because they migrate south for the winter. Common knowledge, right? Except because it was Wes that said it, she opened a new tab and googled it right in front of him."

Jazz busted up with laughter. "Oh my god, really?"

"I swear to god," Kyle confirmed. "So yeah, if my choice is between obscurity and whatever Wes has got going on, I think I have the better end of the deal, honestly."

"Okay, I can see your point. At least for as wild a reputation as Danny has, his credibility is still pretty high."

"He did get featured in Genius Magazine," he remembered. "Some... gorilla thing, right? That'll boost anybody's credibility."

"Ha! Fair enough, yeah," she agreed. "Somehow, I always forget about that."

"Too bad my brother's just a doofus and not a genius," Kyle joked.

But Jazz didn't laugh at that, only smiled in such a way that was knowing as much as it was amused.

"I don't know," she said, and Kyle didn't like her tone as she said it. It wasn't... mocking exactly, but she spoke as if she knew something he didn't, and that bothered him. "Maybe he's just misunderstood."

"Maybe he's just a pain in the rear," he retorted with a scoff.

Another car came by, but this one slowed when it got close to them.

Kyle saw Jazz tense up, and he put himself between her and the strange vehicle, just in case.

A man leaned out the driver's side window to talk to them. "You kids need a ride?" he asked.

"No thanks," Kyle told him, smiling politely. "We haven't got much farther to go."

"Just the same, it's gettin' late," the man insisted. "I don't like the idea of two kids wandering the highway in the dark for any distance."

"And you like the idea of two kids climbing into a stranger's car any better?" Kyle raised an eyebrow. "If it's all the same to you, we'd rather take a mode of transportation that's guaranteed to get us where we want to go, instead of landing us dead and buried in the woods."

The man scowled. "Is that anyway to talk to a good Samaritan just trying to help?"

"What did you expect?" Jazz pitched. "You're a total stranger trying to pick us up off the side of the road even though we didn't indicate in any way that we were looking for a ride? You can't seriously be worried about us running into a creeper and not realize that you're acting like one, can you?"

Kyle glanced back at her and her thoroughly derisive look, impressed for a moment, before fixing his gaze back on the man, who scowled at the both of them, but pulled his head back in his car and drove off, grumbling the whole time. They waited until the man was a long way down the freeway before they started moving again.

"Damn, you sure told that guy," Kyle commended. "You can be badass."

Jazz flipped her hair for effect and rolled back her shoulders. "I did tell you, didn't I?"

"That you did."

"Now, come on. Our exit's just up ahead, let's take it before another creep drives by that we can only hope takes 'no' for an answer."

"Good call."

Their conversation faded as the two of them started to run ahead to the downtown Amity Park exit where they could finally get off the free way and onto the much safer surface roads.

Once they were back in town, they struck up a conversation about academic decathlon, and the computer camp Kyle went to, and the colleges Jazz had been touring lately as she chose where to apply.

Kyle's apartment was much closer than Jazz's place, but since it was already well after dark, he offered to walk her all the way home if she wanted. She thanked him, but politely declined, assuring him she could handle herself for a few blocks, and it wasn't a dangerous neighborhood. All the same, he asked her to shoot him a text when she got home so he wouldn't have to worry about her, and that, she did agree to.

He was just logging into his favorite online game, about ten minutes later, when the text came in from her, letting Kyle know she hadn't died on the way home.

It turned out Wes wasn't as stupid as Kyle thought he was, because he brought Kyle's car back in the same condition he'd taken it, and he'd even filled the tank. After examining it for scratches and dents, Kyle decided that his brother could live another day.

He asked Wes why he had taken it in the first place, of course. But Wes had replied with a long, convoluted story about the Fenton kid losing his powers and they needed it to chase after some evil, uber powerful ghost. After a couple of minutes, Kyle just cut him off and said he didn't need an elaborate lie and if Wes wanted it kept private so bad, he could just say so.

That, of course, made Wes irrationally angry, which was hilarious, and made the whole ordeal worth it in Kyle's opinion. He got to see his brother seethe, and he had a nice conversation with Jazz Fenton, so all in all, he couldn't even find it in him to be that mad about his car being stolen.

#danny phantom #dp #jazz fenton #kyle weston #fic #phic phight #things i wrote #phic phight 24

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thriftingfreak · 1 day

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Nothing Lasts Forever

Pairing: Luke Castellan x female ares!reader

Summary: Some moments in time where Luke and you can’t seem to figure out how you feel about one another. Part 1??? Maybe more if y’all like it!

Warnings: Yearning. Pretty much a yearning page at this point. Also a lot of background building. My bad yall. This is so long i’m sorry _____________________________________

the very first night

The day you rolled into camp is a day that will go down in infamy.

At least, for Luke it would.

There was no day he would ever remember more clearly.

The sun rose among the clouds beating down upon the plethora of kids and teenagers. He could remember helping some of the younger Demeter and Dionysus kids in the fields with their different crops ranging from strawberries to the beloved camp grapes. Luke wasn’t the biggest fan of grapes himself but he never turned down one from a Dionysus kid.

“Yes, those look perfect Courtney” A grin spread wide across his face as he watched the girl pluck a perfectly ripe strawberry from the plant. If anyone knew how to grow good fruit, it was a Demeter kid.

As he stood up, he brushed his khaki shorts clear of dirt. A flash of a shadow appeared from the corner of his eye. As he turned around, he came eye to eye with a very bewildered face.

“Where am I?” You muttered out. You bent over, placing your hands on your knees. He could tell that you had been running from something terrifying enough to prompt the expression.

“Camp Half-Blood” was all Luke could muster up.

“What?” Oh, this poor girl had no idea how her life was about to change.

“Are you okay?” Luke asked, looking you up and down. Your jean shorts were slashed and your right elbow looked like it had been burned.

You looked up after catching your breath, you shook your head. It was a dumb question, because anyone could see you clearly weren’t doing too great. To this day Luke still felt embarrassment from it.

But even with your confusion and aloofness, you followed him to the infirmary and get the cuts and gashes cleaned up.

Your feet dragged along the path, a couple feet behind him. When Luke turned around, your eyes were pointed toward the ground to the mud stained tennis shoes.

He wanted to explain Camp Half-Blood and every single thing that came with it, the good and the bad. Although now definitely wasn’t the best time. He was afraid you would burst into tears or worse, start hitting him. Luke learned that some of the campers react in that manor, the hard way. Thoughts rattled his brain trying to figure out the best decision.

“Why are you staring at me? Never seen a girl been chased by a big ass bear before?” you snipped at him. At least she wasn’t crying, he thought.

“Uh, actually I have” Luke smiled at you, hoping you would appreciate the sentiment.

You did not. A scowl festered on your face. Maybe from all this anger you’d end up being an Ares kid.

This thought process would prove him to be correct.

Entering the infirmary, he guided you over to a room with several beds. Collapsing on one of them, you shoved your shoes off. You brought your knees to your chest, staring at the ceiling. It was difficult to comprehend the sudden and profound change in your life. Luke knew the feeling all too well.

Luke sat down in the chair across from you. He watched you, almost with care. You seemed to notice though because you immediately sat up.

“Is someone going to explain what’s going on here?” He noticed the sudden quietness in your voice.

Taking a deep breath Luke started the same speech he gave every new camper, with some exceptions. He left out minor details usually directed toward young campers. You clearly weren’t young, at least 16 or 17. Pretty old for a new camper but hey, Luke didn’t discriminate. A part of him didn’t want to scare you away with all of the knew information, leading to little white lies.

“I’ll give you a tour tomorrow morning of camp but I think you should just rest up for now” Luke stood up, walking toward the door. As much as he wanted to stay, he knew the Apollo kids had to do their job.

“Oh by the way” He turned around to face you, “I’m Luke.”

You gave him a curt nod before shutting the door in his face. __________________________________________

a place in this world

It took a couple of months but it finally seemed like you were settling in. Even though your mom had told you about the Gods and Goddesses and how your father was a God, you didn’t have the heart to believe her. That was, until a hairy brown creature was chasing after you.

For the first time in weeks you noticed you didn’t wake up with a heavy heart, missing home.

Someone else noticed it too.

Luke, very slowly, had built up your trust. He really was a good guy, even though he annoyed the piss out of you at first. Countless lonely nights in the Hermes cabin had been made better by him. He would listen to you complain about everything and cry over missing your mom.

That was until an intense game of flag football concluded in being claimed.

After Chris had thrown the ball to some poor Athena kid, you chased after him. Yanking the strap around his waist so hard it sent him flying into the ground. When the ball launched up in the air, you had caught it, sprinting so hard you thought you were going to throw up. In the end, it didn’t end up counting as a point for your team, to your disappointment. Although when a red holographic boar appeared over your head, peace finally seemed to settle in your heart.

The Athena kid did end up in the infirmary after the game but in your defense no one had explained the rules of flag football to you.

On the other hand being claimed meant moving out of the Hermes cabin. In some ways, this was an upside. No more blue dye in your shampoo or whip cream on your face. You wouldn’t feel like you wanted to drown the Stoll brother.

The one who was affected by your claiming the most though was no other than Luke. So many warm nights of your body heat radiating off of his own were no longer. He couldn’t reach out to you in the dark anymore. Now it’s for the better, he thought.

Even with these bubbling feelings, he couldn’t force himself to come to terms with them. They would sit in the back of his throat, burning and itching. But maybe the pain was worth it.

That night he helped you pack your things up to move in with your newfound siblings.

“I wonder why it took so long to get claimed” You wondered out loud, shoving your childhood teddy bear into your backpack.

“The Gods do everything on their own time” Luke’s face fell into a solemn stare. You knew it was a touchy subject for him, specifically his own father. Ares may not have been the best shoulder to lean on but in his own ways he still managed to beat out Hermes by a mile.

Doing your best to shake his mind from it you said, “Did you see Bryce though? I really didn’t mean to yank him so hard” You smiled at Luke and in return you were granted the smallest laugh.

The next morning, you were itching to hang out with your friends (and distance yourself a tad from your brand new siblings). It was a group Luke got along with, but didn’t care much for. Gods knows why. Of course, however, your new found sister Clarisse remained a part of the friend group and Luke never really liked her. She was soft with you and some of your other siblings but rarely anyone else.

The rocky path crumbled under your shoes as you made your way to dinner. You swung your water bottle around your hands before spotting a warm and familiar face.

“Hey Poppy” a smile broached your face. You linked arms with the daughter of Athena. Even though you loved your friendship with Luke, Poppy was your number one. She had only been here for a month before your arrival, causing a very tight knitted bond between the two of you.

“How was the first night in the Ares cabin?” Sharing a look, you both knew the answer. You shrugged. There wasn’t much to share. Your brothers and sisters didn’t seem to hold their rage as well as you thought they might. Arguments ended in screaming matches. Or a dagger being thrown.

“Listen, I’m hot-headed but they really take it to the next level” You both giggled.

Right before you stepped up to the pavilion, Poppy unhooked your arms, turning to face you. “Are you sitting with us today or,” she paused and in air quotes she said “Lukie Pookie?”

Ah yes, the nickname everyone around camp designated upon him. You knew Poppy meant no harm by it but even just by the mention of him, it felt like a pillow smashed your stomach.

Brushing it off you quickly looked around for him, “I was planning on sitting with you guys and I don’t even think he’s here yet.”

Poppy raised an eyebrow and pointed to the curly haired boy across the pavilion. Shrugging once more, you grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the opposite side of the benches.

Your friends, a cluster of kids from different cabin, were gathered in their usual spot. Before you could even sit down, someone called out your name. Whipping around, it seemed as if the curly haired boy teleported.

“Speak of the devil” Poppy muttered. You lightly smacked her shoulder.

“Hey” A soft smile graced Luke’s lips, “Mind if I sit?”

Interesting.

His eyes lingered in yours for a moment before you shook yourself out of it.

“Of course!” You patted the spot next to you. You mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ to the group, just incase.

A flash of hesitation crossed his eyes but he plopped down anyway.

“Mhm! I’ve been meaning to ask you Luke” your friend Ben started “I was wondering if you could help me with my swordsmanship?”

Luke nodded quickly before turning to face you. It was the signal that he wasn’t interested in the conversation. Although you knew Ben would pry about it later as Ben was also a child of Hermes.

But he didn’t see things in the way you did. Instead Luke focused on how your hair fell in front of your eyes. It took everything he had in him to not move it. Others around him could talk and talk and talk but he was only ever focused on you. Over and over again he chose you. But what were best friends for, right? __________________________________________

snow on the beach

The sound of footsteps against a shallow pier never particularly bothered Luke. That was if they weren’t disturbing his peace.

The humming of the trees blowing in the wind, soothed his mind over. His eyes followed the way the fish swam with air bubbles peeking over the surface.

Watching the water helped slow everything down. His particularly dense relationship with his father was starting to wear down on him. Luke knew how even the scar on his face didn’t do his hatred justice.

Too clouded by his thoughts, he didn’t notice a familiar giggle breezing behind him.

You placed your fingers over Luke’s eyes and he immediately reached up to touch your hands.

He turned around and peered up, meeting your gaze. Luke’s breathe slowed when he met your eyes. There was a mutual sense of warmth between the two of you. Shared between little moments of laughter and light. And just by looking up at you, he knew he was in a little too deep.

Luke could, of course, fess up. But even the thought of that made him want to hurl his cookies. It’s not like he wanted these feelings and trust, he’s tried to get rid of them. They were more painful than awkward. The flutter in his stomach when you stood just a little to close to him. The way he caught his breath anytime you looked up at him and smiled. Or the shakiness in his throat and on his tongue whenever you quipped a snarky comment.

He quickly stood up reveling how he towered over you so easily.

His eyes glanced down to your hands which had been pulling something out of your jean pocket. A small string bracelet was cupped between your hands.

He snatched it from you, looking it over. It was covered in red and blue zig zags. His favorite colors.

“Hey” you whined, “I worked hard on that.”

A grin broke out on his face, “Is it for me?”

You frowned, “Well it was supposed to be but since you don’t seem to have much patience, I’ll be taking it right back!”

Before you could seize the gift back, Luke’s arm shot up in the air, holding the bracelet overhead. It was a trick he pulled on you plenty of times. Of course it did nothing but annoy you yet that was the fun of it.

Many could not dupe a child of Hermes. Even so, if there is one thing you inherited from your father it was the fight response in oppose to flight.

Your hands wrapped around the front of Luke’s orange t shirt, bunching it into a fist. Swiftly you yanked him back just enough before you efficiently shoved him backwards.

In the blink of an eye, he performed a large flop into the lake. Although the water that had skyrocketed upwards, dunked you clean with water. Worth it.

Now soaking wet, his mane of dark curly hair, bobbed up and down in the water.

“Not cool” He sputtered out. He pulled his upper body on the dock, holding his hand out for you to grab.

You sighed, knowing what was about to happen. In order to escape future prank endeavors, you had to let him do it.

Before you knew it, you were handing over your right to dry clothes.

Head hitting the water first, you tumbled off the deck. Your entire body, including the dry clothes, plunged into the inhospitable water. How on earth could fish swim in water this cold?

As soon as you breached the water, Luke shoved your head down. Well played.

“Was that necessary?” you groaned, water stuck in your ears and nose. Luckily it was pretty shallow otherwise you would have been way more upset.

“I have bad news” Luke paused, running a hand through his hair, “I think I lost your bracelet” He hesitantly waited for the backlash he was about to receive.

As soon as your mouth started to curl into a frown he knew it was over.

You dove headfirst into Luke. He tumbled back and you pushed him so far under he hit the sand. Although it wasn’t that deep, he managed to grab onto you, pulling you underwater with him.

Your laugh threw bubbles all around. His brown eyes shot open. For a minute he seemed like he was searching yours for something.

In just a couple of moments, it felt like the world stopped moving. You could feel the air in your lungs start to sting. Maybe it was time to resurface.

You mentally clocked all of the seconds you could spend underwater without passing out.

But when Luke smiled, all of your thoughts went muddy. He grabbed your hand, pulling you up.

You gasped for air, feeling the sharpness. It quickened when you realized Luke’s shirt cling to his body.

Look away look away look away look away.

A hint of rose rushed to your cheeks. You cursed yourself for thinking anything different.

After you two had burned every ounce of energy you had, you found yourself laying on the deck, eyes closed.

You could hear Luke breathe as his chest fell up and down.

The sun started to set in the distance, and the buzz of grasshoppers with Luke laying next to you is all you needed.

It’s all you ever wanted.

Almost as if he read your mind, Luke mumbled “I could lay here for hours.”

You hummed in response, simply glad he appreciated the sentiment as much as you did.

Something tickled your cheek with its moisture. You opened your eyes to find small snowflakes falling from the clouds. Snow, specifically snow at Camp Half Blood was rare.

It was weird, but it was fucking beautiful.

It crossed your mind that maybe it was Zeus’s doing, a little reward. You were reminded that even though the Gods had failed you time after time, there were small moments where none of it seemed to matter.

Like laying next to the boy who pulled at your heart strings when snow fell.

You glanced at Luke and caught a glimpse of his smile. The way his lips tugged at each other, you knew he felt the exact same way. It was provoking the way you both knew the ins and outs of one another.

In the back of your mind, you knew the snow wouldn’t last long as it was the start of summer. But oh how you enjoyed it so.

As some would say, nothing lasts forever.

———————————————————————

Authors note: I definitely meant to put this out sooner however I have been booked and busy! Now that it’s summer, I should definitely have more time to write because I love writing this stuff. Lemme know if you guys want more pieces in time of Luke and reader! Also if you have any requests or recommendations send them in!!!!

-Bee

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #pjo #luke castellan x ares reader #percy jackon and the olympians

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kaiwewi · 5 months

Text

Once Upon a Christmas Mission

Secret Santa gift for @chaoticgoodthief Prompt: "Two people with opposite personalities falling in love and balancing each other out." Merry Christmas!! 🎅🎁

Synopsis: Supervillain gives her second in command a new mission. The job, (un)fortunately, comes with a new teammate.

“What do you make of this one?”

“The newbie?”

Frowning, they scanned the newspaper clippings Supervillain had spread out on the desk between them. The lack of enthusiasm on the journalists’ part was plain to see in the five unremarkable blocks of text with unimaginative titles. A small, slightly blurred image next to a short article on a mall robbery a month ago showed the grinning rookie villain dodging out of the way of some local hero’s attack. He held a fistful of jewellery in one hand and a hot dog in the other.

With an attitude like his, one could only wonder how the guy hadn’t been caught or killed yet.

They shrugged. “Amateur. Opportunist. Reckless. Flippant. More luck than brains.”

Supervillain hummed. She wore her impervious poker face. Everything about her posture and tone indicated disinterest. To so unnatural a degree, in fact, that it was fairly obvious she did have an agenda.

They internally groaned. This wasn’t going to end well, was it.

“Why are you asking?”

The corner of her lips twitched with something that might have been amusement at the audible unease in their question.

“No more than simple curiosity,” she said, clearly deflecting. “The other day, he approached me. Asked if we were hiring. Said he’d be eager to join us.”

Of course he would be. Any new villain in the area would grovel for a chance to work even a single job for Supervillain. Instant infamy by mere association. But the newbie’s audacity, bypassing the official procedures and approaching Supervillain directly…

“Ah, great. Reckless, flippant, and presumptuous.”

“So, you do not believe him promising?”

“Promising?” They made no effort to hide their scoff. “All I see is a liability.”

“Or a great asset, under the right person’s supervision.”

“You must be joking.”

That phantom of a smile on her face grew teeth. She was most definitely not joking.

“Surely you could utilise a versatile new piece on the board to its full potential, brilliant strategist that you are.”

“You know I don’t work well with unpredictable people.”

“You work fine with me, don’t you?”

She made that sound like casual banter; it smelled an awful lot like a trap.

“I don’t know why this newbie intrigues you so,” they said, weighing their words carefully, “but, and please pardon my bluntness, I do not want rogue pieces fucking with my game.”

“I’m afraid I need you to give him a chance,” she said as she produced a thin folder from the upper-most drawer of her office cabinet and slid it across the desk, “because I already hired him for this job I’m putting you in charge of.”

“Unbelievable! You could have asked me first.”

She should have asked them first.

“You would have said no.”

Damn right, they would have.

She gestured at the folder. “Christmas Eve. Your target is the Downtown Museum’s special End of the Year Exhibition. Can I count on you?”

Always. And she bloody well knew it too.

They heaved a heavy sigh.

“Fine. One chance. But I swear, if he fucks up…”

***

In the end, as irony would have it, when their meticulously crafted plan did fall to pieces, it wasn’t the newbie who’d fucked up.

He, against their admittedly low expectations, had listened most attentively, had carried out his orders diligently, hadn’t so much as offered a single sign of a contrary disposition. He’d checked in every other minute to report his position, had followed the exact route he’d been assigned at the exact pace they’d agreed upon.

So, as they guided him and the rest of the team through the first stage of their plan – getting everyone inside the museum undetected – they’d had to begrudgingly admit to themself that the only thing that stood out about the newbie was his annoying enthusiasm for doing a fantastic job.

And then, just when they’d started to think that maybe this would be another flawless operation after all, one of their field operatives, Tempest, reported in.

“—s….hing’s wrong. Sec..ity guard in Sector E. Hav. ..en spotted. Abort—”

Her voice cut off. Replaced by nothing but eerily crackling white noise.

It didn’t make any sense. How was there a guard in Sector E? They’d done the maths. They’d checked everything, countless times. Security wasn’t supposed to be in Sector E for at least another 10 minutes.

Not that it made much of a difference now that their cover had been blown.

Abort operation…?

Really the only viable option at this point. But that was unprecedented. There’d been hiccups on other missions, sure, but they’d never had to call for a full hasty retreat before.

Supervillain would be so disappointed.

But they had to. By the looks of it, they’d lost one operative already. They had to get the rest of the team out. This was their responsibility. Their fault. They had to do something before—

“Reporting in,” the newbie’s voice rasped from the radio. “This is Ghost. Current position: Sector E, entrance to Stairwell 4. Assisted Tempest. She is unharmed. But the security guard escaped. And he is not one of the regular crew. I repeat, the security guard is not one of the regular crew.”

Different security. Why was there different security?

They sucked in a breath that hardly made it past their throat and did nothing to relieve them of the tightness in their chest. Then they picked up the radio, and faltered.

Which of the escape routes was least likely to be compromised? It had to be an exit point everyone was able to reach. And quick. That security guard must have raised the alarm by now.

Precious seconds ticked away.

“Exit Strategy B,” they croaked. “I repeat, Exit Strategy B. Abort operation.”

***

A mere 40 minutes after their first failed mission – hardly enough time to begin to come to terms with how badly they’d fucked up, let alone recompose themself – the newbie found them sulking at the little table in the corner of the HQ’s staff kitchen.

If he’d seen them hastily brush some wetness from the corners of their eyes as he entered the room, he didn’t let it show on his face. Instead, he wordlessly walked over and set a tray of cookies down next to their still untouched cup of black coffee.

They couldn’t bring themself to contemplate where he’d found those and they didn’t particularly feel like eating anything either. They took a cookie regardless.

“Great hiding spot,” the newbie said after a moment of tense silence. “Took me forever to find you.”

That’s because they hadn’t wanted to be found.

“What do you need?” they said, speaking more to their coffee than him.

“Nothing. But I’ve got something for you; thought it might be able to lift your spirits.”

Yeah, not bloody likely.

“No thank you.”

“Why not?”

Because they didn’t deserve cheering up.

“I messed it all up,” they said, and it felt like too much of an answer. Too raw. Too honest.

Their voice shook horribly. Pathetic.

“Nah, that was bad luck. Your plan was genius.”

“My plan failed.”

“You got everyone in and out.” He offered a loathsomely genuine reassuring smile. “That the museum spontaneously hired a different security team sucks. Not your fault though. No one could have seen that coming.”

They listlessly stirred their coffee with their cookie and laughed bitterly as it broke apart and disintegrated. Just like their plan. Nothing but lukewarm wet mush.

“I should have considered the possibility. I should have had another contingency plan. You don’t understand, do you? Knowing things, anticipating events, is my job. What good am I to my team when I can’t ever acquire crucial information? I almost got Tempest arrested.”

“But she wasn’t arrested.”

“No thanks to me.”

“You weren’t there,” he said, and somehow made it sound soothing rather than accusatory.

A beat of silence in which they forced another shallow breath into their lungs.

They wanted to scream. But they had to keep their frustration in check, be professional. The newbie didn’t deserve this kind of treatment. None of this was his fault. He’d done great. Without him there…

“Thank you,” they said on the exhale.

“We are a team, you know. You do the research, prepare the operation, brief us. You find us a safe way in and out.” As he spoke, the newbie scooped up a ridiculous number of cookies from the tray. “You’re not a field operative like Tempest and me. Reacting to unexpected events and new information in the field is our job,” he said kindly, then unceremoniously dumped the entire handful of cookies into his mouth.

Like this was coffee and cake at grandma’s and not him obligingly turning a blind eye to the fact his team leader was about to have a most unprofessional breakdown in front of him.

Gosh, it was so very hard not to judge him for his table manners. It was so ridiculous it almost startled a laugh out of them despite everything.

“For what it’s worth—” they tried for a small apologetic smile “—you did do a splendid job out there. I’ll make sure to inform Supervillain about that. I know how eager you were to work with her. I cannot imagine she’ll be best pleased when we turn up empty-handed … but I’ll do what I can to ensure this mess doesn’t reflect badly on you.”

Hazel eyes watched them closely while the newbie chewed and swallowed audibly. He licked the residue powdered sugar off his lips, off the tips of his fingers. The slight creases lining the outer edges of his lower eyelids bestowed a slightly impish quality to his gaze.

The only prominent lines on their own face were those born of frowns and brooding.

His was the face of someone accustomed to grins, smirks, and laughter.

He wasn’t grinning now, of course, but …

They’d expected him to be upset. Disappointed. Anxious, perhaps, that he might have lost his one chance to impress Supervillain. But, if anything, he appeared clad in an air of nervous excitement.

“Soooo,” he drawled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Speaking of Supervillain … I was wondering. Why didn’t you tell us what we were to steal for her? Why weren’t we supposed to know until we reached Gallery 5?”

“No particular reason,” they said, careful to temper the displeasure creeping into their tone. “It was information you didn’t require prior to reaching the target location.”

The newbie pulled a face and visibly bit back what would have undoubtedly been a snide comment. Instead, he asked, “yeah okay, but what was it?”

“Hardly matters now, does it.”

“Actually, I really think it does.”

They scrubbed a hand down their face, sighed. “How so?”

“Say, what if—” he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and lifted his shoulders in a shrug “—I had, hypothetically speaking, ignored your final order, made a breezy lil detour, and used Exit Strategy A instead of B?

“And what if,” he continued, “I had, hypothetically speaking, grabbed a couple souvenirs along the way?” He gave them a sheepish look as he pulled his hands back out of his pocket, producing two messy piles of tangled jewellery and trinkets that he placed on the table between them. “Because, confession time: I did.”

And there it was, amidst all the precious metals and all the valuable stones, their target – the ancient, allegedly cursed, Amulet of the Mothers’ Sorrow.

All they managed was a choked, breathless laugh. Their head swam with so many questions and yet they couldn’t seem to locate enough words to form a single sentence.

The newbie began answering the most pressing of them – HOW!? – without prompting.

“Well. When I pulled that guard off of Tempest, I noticed that shiny keycard hanging right there on his belt, and … I nicked it. Just couldn’t help myself. Grabbed his communicator too. Also wanted to knock the guy out, but he got away.” He made a small disgruntled noise, followed by a snort. “But then the idiot ran down Corridor 14. Like, I don’t think he was even familiar with the museum’s layout.

“Anyway, I figured I’d have at least 4 minutes before he’d find the next phone or reach another guard. And even if he found a panic button, security would still have to regroup first. And with access to the staff elevator … reaching Gallery 5 would take me, maybe, 2 minutes at best. And there I’d already be in the perfect position to use Exit Strategy A.

“Long story short: I know a worthwhile opportunity when I see it. Of course—” and here his voice gained an unmistakable edge “—I hadn’t been told what exactly I was supposed to steal. So I had no choice but to stuff whatever I thought were the most likely candidates into my pockets, hit or miss, and make a run for it.”

He made a vague gesture encompassing his loot.

“Did I get the right one?”

“I—” They cleared their throat and reached for the dark amulet – a filigreed pattern, seemingly liquid, a mercury river delta, against a background of polished onyx – on a necklace with a rich green cord woven through a silver chain, and untangled it from the other treasures. It was so pleasantly warm still from when he’d carried it in his pocket, on his person. His body heat seeping into the palm of their hands as they cradled the amulet to their chest.

They could have cried. Or kissed him.

“Yeah,” they said, barely above a whisper.

“Well then,” he offered, amiably, “lucky you. And maybe next time just tell the rest of us what it is we’re going after.” A grin tugged on their new favourite teammate’s lips. “Merry Christmas.”

The newbie took a bow, turned with an exaggerated flourish, and, humming a festive tune, strolled off towards the exit.

They stared after him, transfixed.

On the doorstep, with the door already opened, he stopped and looked back over his shoulder.

“By the way,” he said, “you got it wrong. Supervillain’s cool all right. But it isn’t her I’m eager to work with.”

~~~

Epilogue: New Christmas Traditions

“How’s the plan for this year’s Christmas operation coming along, darling?”

Their partner came up behind them, slung his arms over the back of their office chair and around their shoulders, and let his upper body go slack. As he nuzzled against the crook of their neck, he leaned on them like a particularly heavy but not at all uncomfortable scarf.

“Almost done.” They scanned the markings they’d made on the map covering half their desk. “I know how to get us inside. Currently working on how to get us out afterwards.”

“My criminal mastermind. Always gotta have at least 3 escape routes.” Their partner chuckled, somewhere between fond and mischievous, and started walking his fingers slowly down their chest.

“I prefer ‘exit strategies,’” they said, and caught him by the wrists before he got the chance to fully launch his tickle attack. “The word ‘escape’ implies opposition or pursuit. Ideally – assuming a certain someone’s antics don’t negatively affect the quality of my work – we’ll encounter neither.” Nevertheless, they turned their full attention to him now. “But should something ever not go according to plan,” they murmured into his hair, “I know I can always rely on my partner’s quick wit and nerves of steel.”

He pressed a kiss below their ear. “Damn right. Those heroes will never catch us.”

“Partners in crime.”

They shared a hearty laugh and a few seconds of tranquillity.

Then they gestured towards a booklet half-hidden beneath a stack of documents. The catalogue of the current target’s exhibits. “Have you had a chance to compile your wish list yet?”

“Nah,” their partner said, “I think I’d like it to be a surprise. I’ll know which ones I want when I see them. You?”

“I have picked a few favourites.”

“Perfect,” he purred. “You can tell me all about them over dinner. I made lasagna.”

“Perfect,” they echoed.

And that he was indeed: absolutely perfect.

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transmutationisms · 3 months

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Do u have any thoughts to share about May December? 💭

hm i mean. it was good, not great, perfectly entertaining way to spend 2 hours. if you had to complain i think the obvious point would be that between the three leads, joe gets a bit shortchanged in terms of the balance of narrative focus, and it is a bit frustrating that his confrontation of gracie comes after so much prompting from elizabeth—melton's performance is standout, but the script isn't quite committed to letting his character earn that arc on his own terms. i remember a lot of reviews when it came out saying that the film wasn't moralising or wasn't passing judgment on gracie—i really thoroughly disagree lol and i'm not really sure why people think that. moments like the high school boy trying to show off for elizabeth, and her just laughing it off because he's a kid, or joe getting high and crying in his son's arms, seem p clear and even didactic to me. which, like, yeah it's a moral position i agree with but i think as a piece of cinema, the film is more interesting where it's sketching out the psychologies of its characters, and there are some missed opportunities imo with the way joe is written: we don't so much get him speaking on his own terms, like gracie and elizabeth, because ultimately the film itself is convinced that the only way someone could be in his position is by lying to themselves ("people see me as some kind of victim") and the only progression or arc presented for him is to, essentially, follow elizabeth's suggestion.

i do actually think there's some thematic continuity here with todd haynes's karen carpenter movie 'superstar', insofar as 'may december' is also interested in interrogating fame and infamy, and what drives us to make a tabloid story out of someone's abject misery. with carpenter too a lot of the coverage did take a specifically very moralistic tone, and was simultaneously so clearly motived by and capitalising off of people's desire to gawk. and whereas in 'superstar' haynes resists that sort of payoff by using the barbie dolls in place of emaciated bodies, in 'may december' there's a somewhat similar effect achieved by keeping the story so focussed away from the actual details of what happened—and by making elizabeth, who's often an audience proxy to ask these questions, pretty uncomfortably intrusive and self-serving at points. nothing about it, like, blew my mind, but yeah it was generally solid, and particularly anchored by three really strong lead performances imo.

#may december

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nosebleedclub · 2 months

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Discussion 4/5/24

remix some of the prompts in this month's prompt list and you get some fun new prompts!

1. lasso (3) 2. epistle (7) 3. novice (9) 4. hologram (18) 5. infamy (26)

#discussion prompt #discussion 4/5/24 #prompts #nosebleedclub

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cellphonehippie · 7 months

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i know you get excited when the cameras go ra ta ta ta ta

day 22 of cellphonehippie’s prompt list: fame/infamy

#cphpromptlist #pete wentz #paris hilton #paparazzi #britney spears #lindsay lohan #ashlee simpson #edit #y2k #y2kedit #my chemical romance #mcr #mcredit

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deusvervewrites · 1 year

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Heirs AU:

Since my initial prompt in the combo has Inko have Nedzu levels of infamy due to her law career, can we get some examples of such feats.

I'm glad you asked because there wasn't enough space to get into it in the original post, and that made me sad

Inko has a reputation for completely obliterating the careers of people who seem untouchable. CEOs, Heroes, politicians, all have faced her in the court and lost.

The Meta Liberation Army considers Inko one of their greatest threats because if anyone can prove, in a court of law, that one of their operatives is indeed attempting to follow the will of (Re-)Destro, it's her. They also know that killing her will ensure that they are found.

Inko's legal debut was given to her because more experienced lawyers had no intention of dealing with what had seemed like such an open-and-shut case involving a Pro Hero. It was deemed a career suicide to challenge. She proceeded to prove that the Hero had deliberately allowed the death of a civilian because the civilian had a Mutation Quirk. This is how she got a job at the major law firm where she still works.

#asks #heirs au

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rhosmeinir · 7 months

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Fictober 2023 #19

Prompt #19 - "What if we're wrong?"

Fanfiction: Good Omens

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Pairing: Ineffable Husbands/Aziracrow

Other Notes: In which Aziraphale and Crowley watch Our Flag Means Death. Which means that, weirdly enough, this entry contains SPOILERS for OFMD season 2. If you aren't caught up through episode 7, maybe skip this one. 496 words!

“But what if we’re wrong??”

“We are not wrong, Angel, trust me,” Crowley insisted, throwing a hand out towards the television, “Those two old men are going to kiss. And not just kiss, but you know,” the demon made a rude gesture involving thrusting one finger repeatedly through a circle made by two others. Aziraphale squealed and batted Crowley’s hands down.

“Don’t be crude.”

“What? They’re pirates!”

Like the rest of Whickber street, whose meetings had become much less about business and more about analyzing every possible detail of the romance between two middle-aged pirates, Aziraphale and Crowley had been waiting obsessively for the release of the latest episodes of Our Flag Means Death, and had just settled onto the sofa to watch them.

“Just because they’re pirates doesn’t mean they can’t have a soft, romantic story. I mean, look at us!” Crowley swiveled his head around to look at Aziraphale.

“You think we’re soft and romantic?” The angel reddened and adjusted his posture.

“Press play please.” Crowley obliged.

When Ed and Stede kissed in the moonlight, the demon nearly lost his fingers to Aziraphale’s sudden, vicelike grip of excitement as he bounced up and down in his seat. He deflated somewhat when Ed asked to take things slow, and buried his face in his hands when Crowley muttered, “You go to fast for me, Bonnet,” in a passable imitation of Blackbeard’s voice. Crowley cackled.

When Stede shoved Ed up against the wall, both angel and demon gasped and clutched each other’s arm, leaning towards the screen intently. They gave simultaneous squeaks when Ed pulled Stede to him in a vicelike grip, and slumped back against each other on the couch at the shot of Stede pulling shut the bedcurtains with Ed looking on, for all the world like the innocent lover in a torrid romance novel.

“Whew!” Aziraphale said, fanning himself as the credits rolled, “So much for taking it slow. At least they’re together and happy now.”

“Hmm,” Crowley replied as he raised the remote to begin the last episode, not wanting to dampen his angel’s enthusiasm, but not nearly as confident that things were going to remain stable.

When Ed was encouraging Stede in his newfound piratical infamy, Crowley thought that maybe he’d been mistaken. He allowed himself to be taken in by Stede’s happiness and laugh along with him as his notoriety grew, and to believe that all was well despite the obvious warning signs. So, when Ed declared I’m leaving, both angel and demon let out identical screams of protest. And when Stede shouted You’re a coward! At Ed’s retreating back, Crowley flopped back with a groan of despair, head hanging over the back of the sofa, while Aziraphale collapsed in on himself and slithered to the floor, sobbing.

At length, after much fish flailing and muttered ranting, Crowley uncrooked his neck and sat up.

“Uuugh. Well,” he said, utterly nonplussed, leaning forward to pat Aziraphale’s still-shaking shoulder, “we weren’t wrong.”

#fictober23 #fictober #good omens #gomens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd season 2 spoilers #fanfic #fanfiction

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