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im-only-here-for-the-fandom · 11 months

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Baby Lost, Baby Found

so first time posting on tumblr, i got inspired by the idea of danny phantom being jason todds father from the story apartment 31c by @faeriekit

its going to be a bit long so,

I headcanon that ghosts can asexually reproduce but it takes some time to make sure that the baby is stable than if there was two ectoplasmic donors so its not commonly done or well known . so when vlad tries to clone danny he doesn’t know that he’s actually growing a lab baby and in the test tube while its forming the baby splits, becoming two babies, one more ghostly (ellie) the other more human ( jason ).

Danny feeling a strange tug at his core urging him to find something, something very important to him and he has to find no matter what, searches for weeks before he finds ellie and jason before vlad ages them up and he falls in love instantly. he looks at his beautiful daughter and son, cradles them carefully and takes them home olny telling jazz, sam, and tucker about their true origins, his parents lecture him about ‘how irresponsible he was for bringing two children into the word’ and ‘how hard it is to raise them’ and ‘how much personal time you have to give up to take care of them’ despite them not noticing that he had disappeared for weeks or that they spent all day in thier lab only coming out for food and bathroom breaks or to put a sample in the fridge because the basement fridge was full {they still haven’t noticed he’s died} . the babyies needed a steady intake of his ectoplasm or pure ectoplasm to stabilize so took them to school with him, not trusting his parents inventions to not accidentally shoot at his kids but thankfully the ghost have calmed down with their attacks ever since he got the kids only going after him after school and during holidays and toning down thier destructive acts.

During the summer holiday vlad invites the fenton family to a cruise ship no doubt trying to enact one of his stupid schemes with jazz unfortunately (or fortunately) unable to join because she was joining a charity for helping less fortunate kids as a volunteer so that she could add it to her resume also because she’s just a really good person and wants to help defintley not to get out of the holidy cruise with val of course not . During one of the cruses resocking pit stops he has to change ellie’s diaper because he’s a goid dad, so he leaves jason with his parents reluctantly after the insisted that he would be perfectly safe with them, jason having a dormant core barley exhibits any ghostly traits while ellie having an active core regularly floats, so his parents were less liely to think jason was a ghost tgan ellie, not knowing that as soon as he left the box ghost came to cause mischief, his parents immediately entering ghost hunter mode forgetting about baby jason.

Enter Sheila also on the cruise running a fake pregnancy scam on multiple people, getting desprate when few men fall for it but needing more proof from her, she decides to steal baby jason who was conveniently unattended to in the chaos happening and leaves before the cruise before the ship departs. She successfully registers the baby as hers saying that she gave birth to him on a cruise thats why she has no previous medical records and naming him jason based on the custom onsie he’s wearing that had in bold Baby Jason written on the chest and starts her scam once again. This time she’s more successful in her scam getting large amounts of money from different men, her having blue eyes, the baby having blue eyes, most people having black hair made it much easier, but now the baby was getting older and its harder to scam people with a larger baby so she doesn’t want him anymore so she hands him over to the only man stupid enough to believe that was truly his baby, Willis Todd, she dumps him in gotham and leaves.

Back at the cruise ship danny finishes changing ellie only to come out to the aftermath of the box ghost and search’s for his parents so that he could get his son back only to discover that his parents have once again neglected another child, their grandchild, in favor of their ghost hunting ways. danny feels devestated his baby boy is gone and the ship had already sailed a long way out from their last stop, he should have never trusted his parents, he didn’t care that they neglected him, but thier neglect now cost him his son. he leaves ellie with jazz once they reach home and follows the tugging in his core once again trying to locate his son, but this time it’s harder it took him weeks to find his kids the first time and that was when they were stationary, now sheila keeps moving meaning the direction of the tugging keeps changing and it throws him off the right track, until she reaches gotham and the tugging suddenly STOPS, danny is floating in the middle of nowhere when his connection with his baby just disappears without a warning. and danny is just terrified, he doesn’t know what has happened to his baby.

Jason is in gotham now, which is a ectoplasm deadzone, despite it being heavily covered in death energy. any time ectoplasm is formed its immediately sucked away by those who have recently died, barely being able to take enough to pass to the afterlife, and with the amount dieing in gotham the amount of ectoplasm is barely able to sustain jasons baby core. he has stronger senses and a better immune system from his ghost half but other than sharper canine teeth he doesn’t develop other ghostly traits over the years growing up, if he able to seemingly disappear in the shadows and move as silent as a ghost, it’s attributed to gotham strangeness.

jason is now 15 and dies waking up briefly in ghost zone only for the ectoplasm to kick start his core and kicks him back into his body six months after his death, back in to gotham the ectoplasm deadzone now unable to support his active core leaving him catatonic for talia to find and dunk in the lazarus pit. he spends three years in with the league of assassins before returning to gotham mad with pit rage and the need for revenge against the joker.

danny, now the ghost king , has never given up searching for his missing, despite not being able to locate him his bond reassuring him his son was alive, having moved out with his daughter and sister when she turned eighteen and cut off all communication with his parents. he’s in a meeting in the ghost zone when he feels his bond with his son flare up strongly only for it to disappear from the ghost zone not a minute later, leaveing him no time to search for him, but the bond is there, if barely, but it disappears again when jason is dumped in the lazurus pit, his signature corrupted from how it was when he was young. danny’s core aches from the sadness he’s feeling, the bond he has with his son is seemingly gone, he doesn’t know what to do now.

A year passes and jason is now nineteen a year after he came back to gotham, having reconciled with his family. but now the justice league is facing a world ending supernatural threat and they need someone or something powerful enough to face it, so who else other than the benevolent and kind ghost king.

constantine has the main league members do the ritual with him batman, superman, wonder woman, flash, green lantern, because the requires a lot of power. so they chant his titles, The Benevolent and Kind, The Great One, The Gate and The Keeper, The Guiding Star, The High King Of Infinite Realms, and a portal starts forming and slowly danny emerges in full royal garb, white hair swaying whisply in an invisible breeze, eyes a glowing green galaxy, crown and ring on full display. Danny opens his mouth to speak only to close it when he feels a weak, sputtering bond from someone standing at the back of the room, he cranes his head searching for the orogin of this bond and spots a young man, then it clicks, thats his son, that’s jason. he can’t believe his eyes, he finally found his baby, after nineteen years, he sinks to the floor and sobs.

Jason had always felt a strange feeling if longing that never seemed to go away, at first he thought it was from a lack of care from his parents, but it didn’t seem right to him, so after he bacame robin, and found out about sheil he thought that was where the feeling of longing was coming from, but then she betrayed him and he died at the hands of the joker. and in that one minute in the realm of the dead everything felt right only to wake up in his own grave and then get dumped in the pit. After getting dumped in the pit the longing was gone, and in its place was rage, like he had lost something very important to him and this made him unbelievable angry, so he went to gotham to exact revenge, and ended up reconciling with his family.

a year later he’s stading at the back the room as the justice league summons the ghost king, and as the king emerges the feeling of longing that was gone since his death starts sputtering to life, he looks at the floating man and the longing gets stronger, they lock eyes and the man shudders and sinks to the floor sobbing, he wants nothing more that to run to him and hug him, hold him and never let go, he has never felt such intense emotions towards someone in his life.

As he slowly walks towards the ritual, danny lifts his and revrently utters his name “Jason”

#dp x dc crossover #dp x dc au #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #danny phantom #jason todd #Baby lost Baby found

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thenightwolf51 · 7 months

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So i just read this post about the Bats being Warlocks with Danny as their Patron and its super great, amazing work @aziraphale-is-a-cat and @percyisawesome

At first i thought Lady Gotham was going to be their Patron, because i immediately forgot i was reading a crossover, and that sparked an idea.

What if Lady Gotham doesn't exist and Phantom was the Gotham city spirit.

So DPxDC idea where Phantom was the first recorded Hero/Meta way back before the Justice League members were even born, because i love those stories, but if course no one knew that back then. Metas weren't a thing yet.

So things go as canon but eventually the GIW get worse and worse, especially as more and more of Amity becomes Liminal from ambient ecto leaking from the portal.

And the GIW, way too confident with the Anti Ecto Acts in place, decide that Amity Park is a lost cause. They launch a major attack the town and destroy the portal in the process.

And even though i think the surviving Amity Parkers would buckle down, stand strong, and rebuild their town. For the sake of this idea, lets say they don't do that.

Instead the survivors band together and decide they need to leave, get as far from the GIW's main base of operations as they can.

They go right.

They end up in Gotham, New Jersey.

Now, im messing with the timeline a bit. I still kinda want the DP parts to be early 2000s, maybe late 80s/early 90s at the least, so the uniquely DC events im pushing to later in time a bit.

So lets say Gotham, while still pretty old and with its history and subtle curses, never really expanded into the huge city we normally think of. No towering skyscrapers or really any huge buildings, is barely a small city at this point.

And then an influx of new residents from the west cause a need to expand. Over the generations the former Amity Parkers help Gotham become what we know in Bruces time. By then they're just Gothamites, and if their subtle limiality is to attribute for the modern Gothamite's durability and the eventual rogues' whole... thing well its been way too long to place blame on that random group of refugees.

And where was Phantom in all this? Watching over his people. The portal and his family are gone, he cant be Danny because the survivors believe he died when FentonWorks exploded, all he really has at the moment is these people who's lives he believes he inadvertently destroyed.

So he watches over them, then their descendants and the seemingly unfortunate people of their new home. This little city has afew old curses that are holding the residents back and making them miserable, its the least he can do to take some of them on for himself, just make things easier for the people.

Eventually the city becomes his new haunt, becomes a part of him as he helps it grow and expand. And some Amity descendants still spread the urban legend that is the Phantom of Gotham.

(Just a little side detail that im not sure how to add in but i really like the idea of Liminality eventually evolving or mutating into the meta gene if there's not enough ambient ectoto keep it active. Maybe the portal sent out a shock wave of radiation when it was destroyed. Not everyone was affected but for those who were it either was so subtle the effects fade within a month from the lack of enough ambient ecto or went dormant until it became a meta gene and no longer needed ecto.

I dont know, i mostly like the irony of Batman's "no meta's in Gotham" rule when most of Gotham was unknowingly built by the original "metas")

@hdgnj @dcxdpdabbles @nelkcats @nerdpoe @ailithnight @tathartiel

And @omnicrafts , hope your feeling better

#dpxdc #dcxdp #Phantom of Gotham #Liminality evolves into the meta gene without ecto to fuel it

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arzuera · 2 years

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Conner isn't a clone of Luther and Superman,but Danny phantom and Superman.

Phantom looked at the monitor in the med bay dumbstruck. Several other leaguers were in the same situation. How could this have happened? WHEN did it happen? Sure during the early years of crime fighting, Danny hadn’t been the best at keeping his blood in his body but he had grown by leaps and bounds since then. With GIW and his parents trying to figure out how to take him out, it had become instinctual to make sure that he didn’t leave much of a trace wherever he went. Yet, somehow it had been leaked.

And to Lex Luthor no less.

“I don’t understand. Phantom wasn’t even a part of the league when the Cadmus project was in operation. So how could this be?!” Flash stated as his eyes scanned the results over and over but they remained the same.

“I’m… I’m just as confused as you are.” Danny admitted still feeling overwhelmed by this new information. When Cadmus was in operation he had finally appointed as the King of the Infinite Realms at the age of 21. He didn’t join the Justice League until a little over a year later when some idiotic cultists had thought it was a good idea to try and merge the death realm with the living. Now, going into his second year with the League, Danny was finding out he had been cloned.

Again.

Batman grunted as he leaned back in his chair. “The results don’t lie. I’ve run them about ten times and it has all come up the same. The records on Cadmus had stated that Superman and Lex Luthor were the donors in creating Connor. However, Phantom’s DNA is a perfect match.”

The halfa looked to the teenager who was lying on a bed in the other room unconscious. While out on a mission, Superboy had taken several nasty hits and was severely injured. He had needed a blood transfusion and the poor kid had a horrible reaction when Manhunter tried to use an IV of Luthor’s blood which was supposed to have been a match. (Superman donated his blood as needed. It's not that he didn’t want to help but it was really hard for him to give blood with his body the way it was. Most needles just bent out of shape when they tried to pierce the skin.) It was touch and go but it appeared that Danny’s was a perfect match in more ways than one. Phantom pulled out his cell phone and started texting Jazz. She was not going to believe this.

“Phantom, what are you doing?” Batman asked when he saw him pull the device out.

“Texting my sister.”

Flash, finally, peeled his eyes away from the monitor. “Why?”

“Because, apparently, I have a long lost son who I didn’t even know about and she is going to flip that Superboy is her nephew,” Danny responded with a smirk. He wished he could have delivered the news in person. Oh! He also needed to get a hold of his other sister. Dani was going to be so excited to learn that she was no longer the only clone in the family.

Thoughts were swirling inside of his head. Conner currently lived at the base of the Young Justice team. Mainly because he didn’t have anywhere to go. Would the boy mind if he took him home with him? His castle in the Ghost Zone was massive and a lot of the rooms were unoccupied. Conner could pick as many of the rooms as he wanted for all he cared. So long as he was happy. Danny’s apartment was a lot smaller but he could probably upgrade so that Conner could have his own space. Money wasn’t really an issue anymore. It would probably do wonders for the teen’s mindset if he had a proper home to come back to instead of the reminder that the one person who was supposed to care about him didn’t.

“You are taking this awfully well,” Batman said as a statement but Danny could feel the questioning gaze of the bat when he put his phone away. “I would have thought you would be mad.”

“Oh, I’m livid all right.” Phantom replied and what he said was true. “I just found out today that I have a son because the boy was put into the hospital due to the severity of his injuries and he had existed for at least two years in this world without my knowledge. Two years that were filled with an unprecedented amount of physical, emotional, and mental trauma as he tries to figure himself out and separate his identity from the man who is supposed to be his other father and mentor. Only for that man to have treated him as an abomination for existing in the first place.” The room temperature dropped to the point that the breath of the other Leaguers showed. “To be honest, I had already low-key adopted him because of that fact but now that I know I’m related there are going to be some changes.”

Flash and Batman exchanged a look seeing the green eyes of the ghost king flare for a few moments before settling into a soft pulse. Both were thankful that Superman was off-world, at the moment. Clark would have probably said something that would have set the man off if he had been there for the startling revelation. Superman cared about Conner. He did but he was having a hard time overlooking the fact that he was cloned without his consent. So Conner’s life was basically denied by the one person he wanted to be acknowledged the most.

Superman would have to be told before he came back so that he would be prepared for when Phantom was going to come at him. Hopefully, enough time will have passed so that Phantom will have calmed down and had a chance to figure out what he wanted to say. Regardless, it wasn’t going to be a fun conversation. For now, Batman nodded to the halfa and turned back to the monitor. “Why don’t you go check on Conner? He should be waking up soon and this news might be what he needs to hear.”

“Maybe he won’t see himself as a villain anymore because he shared DNA with one.” Danny nodded and flew into the teen’s room trying to think of a good way to tell him. How was he going to react? What was he going to say? Would he accept Danny as a father? It didn’t have to be a father role right away, maybe even a cousin or brother. Whatever the boy felt most comfortable with. After all, it didn’t matter what Conner picked in the end because he was family.

And he would never be fighting through things alone again.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #ficlet #danny phantom crossover #danny phantom #conner kent #batman #flash #justice league #arzuera #ask game

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inknopewetrust · 7 days

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 [𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮] [𝒔𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒌 𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒌]

summary: the colors of life change with time, but the music that narrates it lives on forever in one, standstill moment of the 1990s where success and passion came tumbling down. Years later, the story is declassified.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: minors dni (18+), this is based off of fleetwood mac/daisy jones and the six so imagine mid-80s and 90s rock scene, language, lil bit a spice, a whole lotta angst, enemies to lovers to enemies to…

In a world where words meant so much, it was difficult to find them at a time where they were needed.

The cool wire weaved against your skin. Its path crawling like a snake of retrospection from the bottom of your chair to your chest. There was a pebble of sweat threatening to spill from the top of your hairline in the hot California sun which made you think:

"Why the fuck did I ever move out of Indiana?"

But if you closed your eyes, you could recall why. A sickening, thunderous roar of the crowd–you could still hear it now. Somewhere, thumping in the back of your mind as their chants filled a space that breathed a new life within you as the another was dying.

An echo chamber of the taste of metal against lips; the white knuckle grip that still threatened to slip from your grasp.

The woman who sat across from you had a plastic smile on her lips. For her, it was nothing more than a job. An exploitive adventure where you'd be sticking headlines and messages across platforms for weeks to come because of this tell-all documentary.

"When did you know?"

Against cynicism the inevitable hardness of the culture you had immersed yourself in at one time had risen again and the attitude that rose promised a truthful reflection of your experience.

On the floor beside the mics battery pack, a half smoked carton of cigarettes met a glazed palm and the woman watched as a perfectly rolled stick land between two mauve lips. As the flame sparked, your eyes darted to hers.

"Know what?" you muttered between the smoke.

“When it was finally over?”

You could feel the breath being sucked out of your soul. The shudder radiating like a shutter letting rain inside of the home in the canyon; kissing the very center of a heartbeat that stopped at the sight of a pair of eyes, shoes peaking through a doorway.

The cigarette burned between your fingers. Ticking away like a bomb with scorching red embers fighting its casing.

“The Album was the best and worst thing to ever happen to any of us… that sounds ridiculous,” you scoffed, shaking your head and the woman quirked her head.

“It sounds ridiculous that something so magical, something so brilliant, can make those who built it feel small. It put us in a fishbowl and it took every last drop from our cup before it dried up and cracked under the heat… that's when I knew it was over."

She shifted in her seat, readjusting the papers to organize her thoughts. You imagined there was no sounder way of stating it. It was the truth, frank, and to the point but something the rest of them negated to realize or speak into words.

But she shook her head. “Yes, the band… but what of the relationships?”

“None of us had known about Steve and Nancy, Robin and Vickie had barely interacted until their writing began and by the end… well you can read plenty of articles about the end of it all.”

You drew from the cigarette again. Smoke filling the air around you like a mist; the woman kept digging.

“And Eddie and yourself?”

“Well…”

That heart-skipping beat never left. Laurel Canyon was so far away, the studio was a memory, and the stage was a phantom piece of your imagination yet the simple mention of a name so far removed was enough to make time stand still.

Somewhere, a young woman frozen and left wondering the "what if" of a life not shrouded by fanatics and the thrumming of a guitar. Somewhere, lost in the violence of a summer and the shattered glass of a heart left on a stoop, that girl remained inside.

“It was always complicated.”

“So,” she shrugged at you as if the conversation was nothing more than such. It wasn’t as though she was here to get all the details of every part of a life that had already played out in public if people had only been paying attention.

It wasn’t as though she was cracking open a mountain full of jeweled memories that had crystalized themselves in the past.

“When did it all go wrong?”

Feeling the sting of the camera focus on your face, there were two responses to this question that many had already answered before you:

"When did it all go wrong?" You lamented to yourself.

When did you know it was over? When did it all go wrong?

The woman's eyes glistened in excitement. Her story was unraveling before her. You took a drag again.

Fuck. You thought to yourself.

And the film began to play.

A/n: I'm excited to get back in the writing game - especially with Eddie. Let me know your early thoughts! Yay, nay, slay?

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x fem #eddie munson x female reader #reader x eddie munson #eddie munson x #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #x reader #fanfic #x female reader #joseph quinn #eddie x reader #eddie x you

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rottenpumpkin13 · 6 months

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Zangst stanny here! Zack has had a tiring, mind-tearing mission, and comes home exhausted. He doesn't feel like playing it up today. How do the firsts react to seeing a rougher side of their 'puppy'?

No one who joined ShinRa's ranks priming their shoulders to bear the weight of a heroic title expected days like these. Zack could've filled his stomach with lies to his heart's content, feeding his ignorance with the rotten fruits of his labor—the bloodshed in the name of ShinRa's endless conquests.

He told himself before that he had seen it coming, that he already expected the hypocrisy of it all, that he knew SOLDIER was nothing but an oxymoron.

At the end of the day, when the knit sweater was pulled from his aching body, it plopped on the floor with a splat. It was soaked in blood, not sweat.

It was not his blood. It was not someone else's blood. To say it was someone else's blood staining his bathroom tile a sickening crimson would have been a kinder end to give his peace of mind.

The truth was: Zack had lost count after his blade gave the fourth body it's final kiss of death.

The hot water was supposed to have been merciful on his injuries. Another lie. He hissed, pulling away from the boiling stream, fingers finding the closest bruise to soothe beneath his cold, trembling fingers.

'So much for a relaxing shower,' he thought to himself, skimming his closet for a pair of fresh clothes. He tugged at a black hoodie, considering it. He couldn't handle something that displayed his skin and every bruise and bandaged injury he had sustained during the mission.

It was bad enough that everyone knew where he had gone, what he had done. He didn't need the added headache.

But the glaring red ShinRa logo slapped on the hoodie didn't agree with him—literally. Nausea corroded his stomach the minute he noticed it.

Zack shut his eyes and snatched the second hoodie he felt, slamming his closet doors behind him. He stumbled out of his apartment, pulling the hoodie on. It was a thick, maroon one he was pretty sure had been stolen from Sephiroth a few months back.

He scoffed the moment he saw himself in the mirror. Baggy clothes weren't his style, and covering every inch of his body with fabric wasn't going to hide the sins etched three inches deep into his skin.

He didn't know why he bothered. The guys would all know by now. In fact, Zack suspected that was the very reason why Angeal called him up to his apartment.

"Come up once you're settled down, let's hang out."

That's what Angeal had said over the phone when he was on the helicopter flying back to the base.

Oh how Zack wished he could hang out—hang himself out to dry. Maybe then he would've stopped feeling the phantom rivulets of blood clinging to his face and arms and legs and hands and feet and—

"You look like hell," Genesis snorted, leaning against the door frame.

Zack blinked. How had he gotten here again? Why was he here?

"Hello?" Genesis snapped two fingers in front of his face. "Earth to puppy. Hablas inglés?"

Had it been any other day, Zack would've played along to the hell comment and joked that he had just gotten back. But today all he could do was blink up at the man and manage a small smile.

"Is Seph here too?" He asked, pushing past him and entering the apartment.

"In the kitchen!" Sephiroth called out—the perks of having an ultra-enhanced sense of hearing.

The ambiance in the apartment was...wrong. Zack felt the unease slap him in the face the minute he saw a platter of tacos on the coffee table, his favorite movie paused on the TV, and sensed the aroma of freshly baked cookies wafting through the air.

Sephiroth and Angeal came out, the former wiping his hands with a dish towel and matching Angeal's warm smile. Angeal carried two plates of Zack's favorites—M&M-chip cookies and multiple stacks of pancakes.

"Hey! Hang on, let me put these down," Angeal set the plates beside the other platter. "How was the mission?"

Sephiroth stood behind Zack, curiously running his fingers through the younger man's hair. Zack did his best to ignore Genesis's pinning eyes as the redhead stared at him from the archway leading into the living room.

"It was fine," Zack replied. You already know how it went, why bother asking?

"No hair gel?" Sephiroth asked, smoothing out a knot in Zack's hair.

Zack reached up, touching his own hair as he pulled his self away from Sephiroth's touch.

"Um. I forgot," Zack replied, eyes falling to the video game disc on the coffee table. They want to distract me. They think they can distract me.

"You're acting strange, Puppy," Genesis said. He knows.

"Gen, don't start," Angeal snapped at him, reaching out to tie the draw strings on Zack's hoodie. "Don't listen to him. You're okay, right?"

Zack swallowed hard, nodding. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Sephiroth's hand fell on his shoulders and Zack could've sworn it weighed about a thousand pounds.

"Are you sure, Zack?" Sephiroth asked, face filled with genuine concern. He knows. "You can talk to us."

"Sephiroth, stop." Angeal pulled at the draw strings, tying them roughly. "You're fine. You're alive, so you're fine." He knows.

Zack felt a third hand on his skin. Genesis had slunk forth silently like a wraith. His fingers touched a bruise on the side of Zack's neck.

"Zack..." Genesis's fingers were cold. "What is this?"

Angeal and Sephiroth stopped what they were doing and moved beside Genesis. Zack was paralyzed where he stood. They pulled back the fabric. They know.

"He's covered in bruises," a voice whispered. Sephiroth.

"From the mission?" Genesis asked, voice filled with concern.

Angeal started pawing at his body, feeling his skin through the hoodie. He was frantic, and Zack could've sworn the older man's heartbeat was just as audible as his own.

"Where else did you get hurt? Did you watch yourself up already?" Angeal asked.

"I can help in case you haven't already," Sephiroth chimed in.

"Or if you want, I can cast cure," Genesis offered.

They all knew. They knew from the beginning. And yet they willingly watched Zack take the mission knowing he would have to do what he did. They knew. They knew, they knew, they knew they knew—

"Zack!" Angeal's stern voice dragged him out of his suffocating mind scape.

Zack looked up, finding that all three Firsts were staring back at him, waiting for an answer.

But Zack couldn't do it anymore. He slowly shook his head.

"Fuck you guys," he spat.

And with that, Zack left the apartment. No one dared call after him. No one dared follow him. Wether it was because they were too stunned to or because they knew it was a lost cause, Zack didn't know. Zack didn't care.

You see, Zack's problem was that he wanted to be a hero, but there was nothing heroic about being someone else's monster.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #ffvii crisis core #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #zack fair #final fantasy vii #ff7 crisis core #writing

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i-need-a-slurpee · 3 months

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You guys already know I love spreading my akekita besties agenda

I saw someone post a video about a little porcelain figure they found and it was a crow in a big straw hat and a sweater and behind the crow was several different easels. The person filming the video dubbed the porcelain figure 'vincent van crow' so you see where I'm going with this. (Btw this is an AU where Akechi lives and he works with the phantom thieves because they can see he needs help and they're going to give him that help whether he wants it or not. Canon be damned.)

Akechi and Yusuke walking around different shops because yusuke needs new art supplies and guess who they find sitting on a shelf tucked away behind some miscellaneous items like mason jars and small vases of different dull colors. Vincent Van Crow. Akechi saw him first and thought Yusuke would appreciate the little porcelain figure, unaware of the artist's terrible spending habits. Yusuke would feel the same connection to Vincent Van Crow that he did with his lobsters and abandon the original mission just to buy him, insisting it was destiny. A crow that was a fellow artist, the only one on the shell and who better to point it out to him but Akechi himself.

Despite Akechi's protests that Yusuke's funds are limited and he should focus on finding the supplies for whatever new piece he was working on (it was a watercolor painting, several paintings, of the various different places in the backstreets where lebanc resided) Yusuke insists on buying him. Akechi doesn't quite understand how Yusuke can have such a sentimental attachment to an object he doesn't own yet but he can't afford to argue any longer because he'll lose his cool.

It isn't until they've finished their shopping and are walking back to the train station that he starts to really get it. Not because he had given the porcelain crow any thought but because Yusuke declared that this small, breakable and frankly unimpressive (to akechi at least) figure was a sign of their bond. A representation of different facets of their personalities and how despite the fact that nobody really understood it, Yusuke and Akechi made sense together.

On paper it was strange, an aloof artist and the famous detective prince but looking past the surface gave a glimpse into why they worked so well together. Yusuke was honest, brutally honest he never censored himself because he didn't see the point in doing so, he looked for a deeper meaning in everything which made sense since all art has some meaning behind it. It's second nature for him to evaluate everything he saw on a deeper level. Akechi appreciated having someone like Yusuke in his life because he never worried that Yusuke was using him like everyone else had. Yusuke's unrelenting honestly was a breath of fresh air for akechi, and no matter how hard he tried to convince himself in the beginning he could never fully believe that Yusuke's honesty was an act. He was too genuine and his perceptive abilities made him see past the act Akechi would often put on.

In turn Akechi was very critical, he had to be as a detective, and he was constantly aware of his surroundings. He always kept a look out for any danger and covered all his bases to make sure he could keep himself safe. Which was something Yusuke appreciated because he would often get lost in thought and wander off to various different places because they piqued his interest, he couldn't stay on task like Akechi could.

They helped each other and the time they spent together was time well spent, numerous discussions of various topics being viewed from two different lens. But they still managed to consider the other's position in their discussions, Yusuke would consider the analytical mindset that Akechi had and Akechi would pay more attention to the finer details and emotional aspects of a situation like Yusuke did. It was an odd but wonderful friendship they had.

So on the train ride back to their homes, Akechi considered the porcelain crow and his porcelain easels, the shine of his feathers and the way his beak twisted into a sweet smile and he felt a small warmth fill his heart. Warmth at the thought that his friend, his real friend that he had made on his own, would keep that small crow on a shelf or a table and think of him whenever he saw it. Warmth because he wasn't alone anymore, he was wanted by the people around him. Wanted enough for his friend to buy an insignificant trinket that put an extra expense on his limit supply of money just because it reminded him of the detective. Warmth because he was loved.

Your honor that's their son, they coparent him for tax benefits

#kitagawa yusuke #persona 5 #persona 5 royal #yusuke kitawaga #yusuke p5 #akechi goro #akekita #goro akechi #akechi p5 #headcanon

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cor-lapis-candy · 1 year

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Am I about to dump more magic doll out here? Yes, yes I am!

This time we are going to enemies that have angry sex sometimes with Dottore! A cock welding reader and an angry blue bubblegum son of a bitch!

All is fair in love and war, or so they say, and you were saying so with what you had planned for your dear beloathed Doctor. It was a back and forth of words that are double-edged and filled with bittersweet honey, a constant back and forth of snapping and teasing that has lead to here and now. You had acquired the small look-alike doll on a visit to his lab not long ago and on a random whim kept it once you had found out what it was actually for, keeping it as an ace in the hole for just an occasion like this.

He was so cocky and assured that would be able to handle you, have you on your knees for him acting like some good little pet, but no not this time, and not ever if you were to get away with this next little stunt.

He had been teasingly touching the entire time you were with him, brushing feather-light touches against exposed skin, dipping his hands under the hem of your pants, whispers and promises throughout the day, and even pulling you aside to drag you into a heated kiss tangling tongues and palming you as he was so insistent on having the feeling of his mouth haunt you for the rest of the day.

Only with every touch and every mutter he had further signed his own end, now here tucked away in your own home with him still throwing taunts and teasing words your way, posting about how he had gotten you so worked up that you're here waiting for him, bare as the day you were born waiting for him. Only his words falter and his eyes blow wide under his mask when he catches sight of the doll hanging limply in your hands.

"Where did you get that? That should not be here, hand it over now and nothing else will happen. So just-"

"No."

"-give. Wait what? What do you mean no? Hand it over mutt, or I will level this pitiful shack you call a home!"

"No, I don't think I will."

Before he could think to lunge for your seated position your fingers are sinking into the doll, stretching out the small opening that lay at its base, watching as the fury almost drained from the furious man. Slowly moving your fingers has him leaning back, head pressed against the wall mouth open and panting at the feeling of your fingers working him open through phantom touch.

"What's wrong Doc? No words for me? No quips or tales?"

It's easy to cut him off from speaking, pulling your fingers free and placing the doll just shy of pressing against the head of your cock, letting him gather his wits for a moment to watch as you sink into the doll. However, these things work must be somewhat proportional as the moment you have pressed into the doll fully Dottore is stumbling almost doubled over as he moans, shaking when you slightly adjust the doll now firmly wrapped around your cock.

Whatever words he may have had for you were quickly lost, his hands are pressed to his stomach feeling for the phantom touch of how you fill him, it mind-melting, the feeling of being stretched and filled like this. The first noise that follows his earlier moan is a whine, sharp and short as you slowly move the doll, just barely lifting and dropping it back down onto you watching as the lanky man before you barely stands on shaky legs.

When his legs give out, he is quick to fall to all fours shaking and panting as his hips buck into nothing chasing the feeling of you fucking yourself with his doll, using the magic imitation to freely use the snarky man. Speeding up to the point of hearing Dottore almost moan an actual word beyond the small stream of your name he had started the moment you had truly started to fuck the small version of him.

Only seeing how he shakes and pants brings back the earlier moments of need, of the teasing and the taunts that this very man had thrown at you, the thoughts bringing your harsh thrusts to a slow almost teasing pace, casually fucking him letting him feel every drag and deep press as you do. As your pace slows one of his hands begins to move, almost fully undoing his pants by the time you hiss at him.

"Hands off doc or I'll take this lovely little doll of yours and hide it away, filling it with whatever I like, changing it out as I see fit. Making sure you never know peace, keeping you full and needy till you learn to be better..."

"Fuck you."

"No, I think not Doc. Keep your hands to yourself and I'll fuck you..."

#dottore smut #dottore x you #dottore x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #corposting

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raaorqtpbpdy · 13 days

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Suspended in Time and Space

For the Prompt: Wandering lost in the Ghost Zone, Valerie comes across a familiar sight, but this is not the Casper High she knows. Here the red of her suit sticks out like a beacon of color in a realm of black and white (but mostly white). Despite the hateful glares the ghosts throw her way, she knows this school stuck in the past holds the key to her way home, if only she can find it. [from @the-oaken-muse]

Read also on AO3

[Warnings for segregation era racism, canon-typical violence, and mentions of suicide]

It was official. Valerie hated the Ghost Zone.

Honestly, it wasn't much of a surprise considering how much she hated ghosts, but the whole place had always rubbed her the wrong way, and now that she'd been there for who knew how long, wandering around lost, she hated it with a fiery passion rivaled only by her hatred for Danny Phantom himself.

She couldn't remember exactly when the sparse scenery of floating islands, and doors had vanished, but she noticed when the sky turned from lime green to black as night, and speckled with stars that didn't match any constellations she knew, not that she knew all that many, admittedly.

She tried to turn around. She might know know exactly where she was or which way she was going, but she knew the Fenton Portal that she'd chased that wily ghost through before it disappeared came out into a green expanse, not the night sky. But when she turned around, the green behind her was gone.

Every direction she looked was dark sky and stars.

She didn't remember even flying into it, just noticing immediately when the color of her surroundings had suddenly changed. Now, it seemed like she was trapped, with no way out of the vast, inescapable dark night, and back to the vast, inescapable green of the rest of the Ghost Zone.

She tried of course. She picked a direction and pushed her hoverboard as fast as it would go, but she never reached the end of the darkness.

After... well... she didn't know how long it was exactly. Time was impossible to gauge in this place. But after a while, she finally came across seemingly the only thing floating in the night.

More unexpected than finding something in what she had thought was an empty nothingness realm in the Ghost Zone, was finding something so familiar. It wasn't just another door, or another random building on a floating rock, or a strange landmark floating in the void. It was a school. Valerie's school.

Curiously, she steered her hoverboard towards it to get a closer look.

It was Casper High, but it wasn't the Casper High she knew. There were no colors. Here, the glowing red of her suit was practically a beacon, a bright, neon sign in a realm of black and white.

Mostly white, she amended in her mind when she looked through the windows and saw the student body. The hall was crowded with students, but they were all white kids, every single one of them, and not just because they were in monochrome colors. She examined all their features, the shades of gray, and didn't spot a single person of color in the bunch. And Casper High wasn't the most diverse school, even now, now but it was way more so than this place.

However, she also noticed in her examination, that the clothes and hairstyles worn by the students she saw were... outdated to say the least. They looked like they were straight out of the fifties. And, based on the fact that this was the Ghost Zone, it didn't seem like much of a stretch to think they actually were.

Whatever the time period, however, this was still Casper High, and if Valerie wanted to get back to Amity Park in the real world, she had a strong feeling that this place held the key to get there.

She flew around to one of the school's back entrances in the hopes of drawing as little attention as possible. Thankfully, no one seemed to be there. With a tap of her heels and her hover-board stowed itself. Now, she just had to find her way home.

The question was, if this school really was trapped in the nineteen-fifties, how was she supposed to search it. Ruby Bridges had to have police escort her to school because people threw rocks at her, and she was a six-year-old at the time. The Little Rock nine were similarly harassed and threatened. And all that was after the courts mandated the girls be allowed to attend.

This version of Casper High was pretty obviously still segregated, but even if it wasn't, there was little doubt that no one here would take too kindly to her presence.

Valerie was strong, determined, thick-skinned, and a ninth-degree black belt, so she was pretty sure she'd be able to handle herself until she found the way back to Amity Park. She only wanted to get through this as painlessly as possible. At the very least, she should try and get with the fashion. Maybe she couldn't look like she belonged at this school—even though she was a registered student there in the real world—but she could at least look like she belonged in this time.

As stealthily as possible, she made her way to the school theater.

Everything was exactly where she expected it to be. Evidently, the school building hadn't changed much in the last fifty years. Unfortunately, she didn't find any 50s clothes in the costume storage. She supposed that made a certain amount of sense. If these students needed 50s clothes for a play, they would just wear their own clothes, or borrow their parents'.

Still, she supposed she could make do with what was there. Then at least she wouldn't have to choose between her ghost hunting outfit, the short-shorts she had underneath, or the mini-skirt she had to change into—all three of which would have been equally scandalous in the fifties.

With some minor modifications, she was able to turn the even-older-fashioned clothes into a decent approximation of what a standard 1950s high school girl would wear. The fabrics these costumes were made of were a lot nicer and more sturdy than most of what the drama club had nowadays. Go figure.

When she stepped into the halls, it took a few seconds for ghostly students to notice her, but as soon as they did, she was met with glares. Every face watched her with some variation of a hateful expression, anger, disgust. None of them seemed to notice anything off about her clothes, at least, so there was the silver lining.

She ignored them. There wasn't much else she could do at the moment besides ignore them. So far all they were doing was glaring at her, and she could handle dirty looks. She knew this school stuck in the past held her way back home. She just had to find it.

She stiffened when one of the students yelled a slur at her and told her to 'go home to the ghetto', and she just about ran up and kicked him in the crotch, but she held herself back and held her head high. She could handle insults too, even if they were foul.

With a stoic, disinterested look on her face, she tried to make her way down the hallway, but two burly boys blocked her path, presumably football players, judging by their Letterman jackets.

"Let me pass," she said coldly.

"And how are you gonna make us?" one of them asked,

Her lips quirked up in something close to a smile.

"I'm happy to show you."

They were ghosts, so she couldn't just hit them, since her fists would pass right through. She called her suit down her arms and hands under her long-sleeved shirt. Her fingers glowed like they had glowing red veins which thrummed with the sort of energy that let her punch a ghost directly in his face.

She imagined knocking this bastard's jaw clean off and took a swing at him with all her strength.

He instantly fell backwards, landing on the floor, unconscious. His buddy reacted quickly, trying to punch her back, but he swung so wide she saw it coming a mile away and ducked. As his fist passed her by, she saw his class ring, upon which the year was engraved: 1955. Good to know.

She punched him in the stomach, the knee, and then the jaw like his buddy, and sent him falling prone.

"You asked," Valerie pointed out as she stepped over the two of them while the handful of other students in the hall watch on, not daring to get involved.

God, that was satisfying, Valerie thought to herself.

There were plenty of racists in her time, too, but few were so open about it that she could beat the shit out of them and still come out looking like the good guy. Of course, it probably didn't seem like she was the good guy to the most likely equally racist ghosts in the hallway, but she sure felt like she was.

Honestly, though, she should be trying to draw less attention to herself. She let her suit recede so that her hands were bare, and bent her knees under her wide, mid-calf-length skirt just enough so that her face wouldn't be at eye level for most of the other students as she walked by, and most people would only see her black hair unless they were looking. In that manner, she made her way down the halls, turning her back when she noticed anyone starting to look too closely at her.

These people were just a product of their time, and beating them up wouldn't change their minds about her. It was a waste of time that could be put to better use finding her way back home. An extremely gratifying waste of time, but a waste of time nonetheless.

It had been almost an hour since she first got here, and everyone was still wandering the hallways, carrying books, and pencils, like normal students, but not entering any of the classrooms. Was there just no actual class in this place? What was the point of a school with no classes?

Come to think of it, she hadn't seen any teachers either, or any faculty of any kind. She looked through the window of the principal's office as she passed by, but no one was inside. The administration office next to it also appeared to be empty. The school was brimming with students, but... no teachers. No adults at all. Why?

Something was up with this place, and she had a feeling if she found out what it was, she'd find her way home. There had to be some kind of reason Casper High was here. She should start by figuring that out. And how would she do that?

She... didn't really know. Maybe a look at the yearbook would show her if there were any noteworthy Casper High students attending at this time. Or... more likely, a Casper High student that had died. Luckily, Valerie was on the yearbook team—or had been before she'd quit so she could get an after-school job—and she knew where all the old yearbooks were kept. Provided, of course, that they were kept in the same place back in the fifties that they were in 2005.

"This place has been so boring since Poindexter left," Valerie overheard a girl saying. "I mean, I proud of him and all—and I can't blame him for cutting-out when he had the chance, I would have too if I could, but I'm just washed out from this place."

Poindexter? Why did Valerie recognize that name? She shrugged and kept walking. Maybe the yearbooks would answer that question.

Casper High, it seemed, was not all that big on updating or renovating because Valerie found the yearbooks exactly where she expected to. Unsurprisingly, the classroom was empty. It seemed like none of the students had any interest in going inside them when there weren't any classes, and she couldn't exactly blame them. The yearbooks themselves were actually more organized then she remembered them being in the present. All lined up on the shelf by graduation year and everything.

She took the most recent one off the shelf and flipped through it to the class photos. She recognized a lot of the faces in the yearbook as students she'd seen in the hallways. But they hadn't all died. If an entire graduating class had somehow died at the school, Valerie was pretty sure she would know about it. Probably the school would have been shut down, too.

But if they hadn't died, then what were they all doing here?

Then she got to the end of the yearbook, and she saw it.

On one of the last pages, an obituary had been clipped from the newspaper and included in the yearbook, along with handwritten well-wishes, mostly from teachers, but it looked like a few students had written them too.

Sidney Ian Poindexter January 9, 1938 - March 10, 1955

At just seventeen years old, the young Mr. Poindexter threw himself from the roof of his school, taking his own life. A suicide note found in his pocket cited "unbearable an unrelenting bullying" as the primary reason for the jump.

Sidney was a bright student, a gentle soul, and a beloved son to John and Mary-Lynn Poindexter, and younger brother to Malcolm Poindexter, a family by whom he is remembered.

His funeral service will be held on Sunday, March 13. His family asks that in lieu of flowers, please teach the children and young people in your life just how harmful bullying and bigotry can be, and urge them to be kind, even to those who are different from them, and whom they may not understand.

The handwritten messages were mostly apologies, for bullying him, for not helping him, for letting it happen and never saying a word. Valerie scowled at them. Seemed like an empty gesture to apologize to someone after they were already dead, especially when you were the ones who drove them to it. Too little, too late.

She remembered the story now. Back in the 50s, some poor kid named Poindexter had been bullied so mercilessly and relentlessly by the Casper High student body, they said picking on him was a graduation requirement. That is, until he committed suicide jumping off the roof of the school.

The story went that he'd been shoved in his locker so many times then when he died, his soul was shoved inside it, too, and he haunted his locker to this day.

If that was true, then maybe this was the Ghost Zone inside Poindexter's locker, where his soul was trapped. In which case... maybe finding his locker would mean finding her way out. It was a promising lead, but there was just one problem. For the life of her, Valerie couldn't remember which locker was the one Poindexter supposedly haunted.

Damn... she was gonna have to ask somebody, wasn't she?

With deep sigh, she put the yearbook back where she'd found it and stepped out of the classroom. This hallway didn't have as many people as some of the others she'd passed through. She sized up the people in the hall and the way they were all looking at her, and walked up to the one who seemed the least aggressive, a girl with curly blonde hair that looked more nervous than hateful, a refreshing change, if not exactly better by much.

"Sorry to bother you," Valerie said, keeping her tone even and apologetic and her body language as open and pacifying as possible. "My name is Valerie, and I was wondering if you might be able to tell me Sidney Poindexter's locker number?"

"Um..." the blonde girl said, but Valerie never got to hear if she was actually going to answer, because a tall, dark-haired girl who must've been her friend stepped between them.

"If you're so sorry, then don't bother her in the first place," the second girl sneered.

Then she spat.

Directly onto Valerie's face.

And Valerie lost it. She wiped her face off with her long sleeve and activated her ghost hunting suit under her clothes, calling it to cover everything but her face so this bitch could see exactly how angry she was. She grabbed the girl by the collar and slammed her against the wall. She was a good four inches taller than Valerie, but it didn't make a difference.

"You think you can talk to me like that?" Valerie shouted, slamming her against the wall again. "You think you can treat me like that? Think again you hussy! I take no shit, not from you or anyone."

A pair of boys came over and grabbed Valerie to pull her off the girl, but she was having none of it.

"Don't fucking touch me!" she jeered, kicking them in the knees to make them drop her. "I was just tryna have a polite conversation with this girl and you spit on me? You grab me? I'm startin' to think the only decent people in this era are the parents who wrote Poindexter's obituary, but apparently you all have never read it."

One of the boys got up and tried to grab her again, but she slammed the heel of her palm into the underside of his jaw before he could get his arms around her and he fell back.

"I've had enough of you people," she scoffed. "I'll just try every locker until I find it."

With that, she stormed off down the hall, heedless of the looks she was getting. All she had to do was stomp and jeer at anyone who dared to get close to her. She was not gonna be some passive victim like Poindexter was. If they thought they could pull shit with her, they'd better think again.

She started with locker number 001, hoping that going in order would save some time by keeping her from accidentally checking the same section twice. Unfortunately, she had no idea what she was looking for. She was kind of hoping that if she opened the right locker, there would be a swirling green portal inside, like the portal she'd come through. Unfortunately, she had no such luck.

She punched out two more assholes by the time the ghosts all finally seemed to get the message that they were better off leaving her alone. She'd finally gotten into the 100s when they started gasping and turning around to go another way when they saw her. Good.

She was on locker 176 when someone finally had the courage to come down the hallway and face her.

"If you're here to pick a fight, I'm happy to oblige," Valerie said, not looking to see who it was as she slammed the locker door to 176 shut.

"No!" a girls voice squeaked behind her.

Valerie turned to see the blonde girl she'd approached earlier standing there, holding up her books to protect her face.

"Relax," Valerie told her. "I don't punch unless provoked."

Slowly, cautiously, the girl lowered her books so Valerie could see her face. "You said your name was Valerie, right?" she asked. "I'm Emily-May, but everyone just calls me Emmy."

"Nice to meet you, Emmy," Valerie said. "Nicer than meeting most folks here has been, anyway."

"You're in color," Emmy noted.

Valerie raised her eyebrow, apparently prompting Emmy to catch the double meaning and quickly correct herself.

"No I just mean, you're not in black and white like the rest of us. You look... real."

"I am real," Valerie said. "I'm human, and I'm trying to get home."

"Is that why you're looking for Poindexter's locker?" Emmy asked.

"Yeah," Valerie confirmed. "I'm pretty sure Poindexter's locker is my way home, but I can't remember what number it was... can you help me?"

Emmy nodded. "Poindexter's locker was number 724," she said. "But Poindexter's not here anymore, and he was the only one who knew how to get out through it."

"I'll just have to figure it out on my own, then," Valerie said, resigned. "Thank you, Emmy, truly."

Emmy smiled. "I haven't forgotten what was in Poindexter's obituary," she said. "Nobody deserves as bad as he got, it makes no nevermind who they are, but you've been getting that and worse, and it's not fair."

"It's not," Valerie agreed, rather proud of Emmy, even though she was kind of stating the obvious in Valerie's opinion, it was obviously a revelation to her. "If you don't mind, there's one more thing I'm curious about."

"Lay it on me."

"Poindexter was the only one of your class who died, so why are you all here?"

"We're not," Emmy said. "Well, what I mean is, I'm not actually the ghost of Emily-May Peterson. I'm just a conjuration of Poindexter's memories of the real Emmy, back when he went to school with her. This whole place was conjured out of Poindexter's memories, and his emotions about all of us."

"Is that why everybody's so cruel?" Valerie asked. "Because he remembers you all as the bullies that drove him to suicide?"

"That's part of it, but a lot of us were just as cruel in real life as Poindexter remembered us," Emmy admitted with a melancholy shrug. "The only difference is, out in the real world, we had the chance to learn and change, but in here, nothing changes.

"I hope the real Emmy changed. Even in Poindexter's memories, I'm not as bad as everybody else is, but I'm too afraid to go against their bullying when anyone can see me. I hope the real Emmy stopped being such a square and got brave."

Valerie looked her up and down and nodded thoughtfully.

"Emily-May Peterson, right?" she said. "Once I'm out of here, I'll look you up and see how much you changed."

Emmy lit up. "Would you?"

"Why not?"

"Oh, then let's bust you out of here,"

Valerie smiled, and the two of them hurried through the halls toward locker 724, and for once, it seemed like Emmy didn't mind people seeing her going against the status quo as she went along with Valerie the whole way.

Once they got there, the crowded hallway quickly cleared out. Valerie was quietly proud of herself for getting an entire school to unilaterally fear her in a matter of hours. That said—or thought, rather—she couldn't wait to be back in the real world.

She quickly opened up locker 724. Even though she didn't know the combo, she knew a trick that would open any locker in the school, and it worked just as well in 1955 as it did fifty years later. She turned the dial ten times to the left, then three times to the right, then slammed her fist against the door and it popped right open.

Eagerly, she looked inside the locker... but there was no swirling green vortex waiting to take her home. It looked just like any of the other lockers, dirty, with a couple of books and a single personal decoration, a round mirror hanging in the back. A broken mirror, at that.

"I told you, only Poindexter knew how to split through his locker," Emmy said apologetically. "I wish I could help you more."

"That's alright, Emmy, you've helped plenty," Valerie assured her. "I'll take it from here."

"Alright, if you say so," Emmy said, and headed down the hallway, leaving Valerie to figure out the secrets of the haunted locker on her own.

The textbooks were for history and math, and neither held any clue as to how to get out. She pushed against the walls of the locker, but nothing so much as budged, so clearly that wasn't the trick.

Upon closer inspection, however, the mirror hanging in the locker wasn't actually broken. It looked broken, but when she carefully moved her hand over the glass, it was smooth and perfectly intact. It seemed like this side was in perfect condition, but somehow... the backside was broken, or the inside... or the other side. Maybe this was a Through the Looking Glass situation, Valerie thought.

She reached into the locker and pressed both hands against the mirror as hard as she could. After a moment, she fell right through. There was no way she should have fit through the mirror. It was only about ten-inches in diameter and she was... more than ten inches in diameter... especially around the hips. But it didn't even feel like a tight squeeze as she tumbled out of the locker on the other side and found herself in the Casper High of 2005.

A sigh of relief escaped her and she pushed herself to her feet.

The hallway was empty, but the clock read 6pm, so that made sense. Unlike the Casper High in the Ghost Zone, the students at this one could actually leave when school was over, and Valerie followed their lead, dropping off her borrowed 50s costume in the lost-and-found on her way out.

She did look up Emily-May Peterson when she had the chance. Her name was Emily-May Barton now. She'd joined the civil rights movement in 1959, and married a black man named Robert Barton in 1967, shortly after it was legalized. They had three children, one of whom was a lesbian with the full support of her entire family. Emmy was 65 years old now, and still lived in Amity Park with her husband, both of them retired.

Valerie wrote it all down, and taped the piece of paper on the 2005 side of Poindexter's mirror, hoping that Emmy might be able to see it. Valerie was proud of her. She'd managed to 'stop being such a square and get brave' after all, just like 1955 her from Poindexter's memories had hoped.

#dp #danny phantom #valerie gray #phic phight #phic phight 24 #things i wrote #fic #racism tw #violence #suicide ment

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tj-dragonblade · 5 months

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*knock knock knock* ❄️☃️🎄 Asking for 24 for the Spotify Wrapped!!!

24 - Dance With the Dragon by Dark Sarah

Congratulations, you've landed on one of the songs that's officially on my list of Songs That Would Make Great Dreamling Fics (That I'll Never Write)! Based entirely on the video linked above and the story that it's part of, this would be a fantasy AU where the vibes are 'Labyrinth meets Alice in Wonderland' with hints of Phantom of the Opera, Beauty and the Beast, and Hades and Persephone sprinkled over for flavor.

The basic idea is that Hob is trapped in some alternate reality and trying to collect a key from each realm he passes through to be able to get back to his own reality. No idea at this juncture what the first realm/key would be - maybe something with the fae, maybe hell, idk. The second realm is Dream's. Do I want to keep to the source and make him a dragon who lost his wings for hubris and arrogance and got banished from the 'upper world' to rule this dark 'underworld'? Maybe, but that's also very Lucifer-ish. So maybe I'd blend in something closer to his canon. In any case. Hob tries to sneak into Dream's castle, get the key, sneak out. He does not succeed and is taken before Dream. There is antagonistic chemistry. There is sneering haughty-in-my-superiority taunting and 'let's be reasonable' demands. There is at least one challenge set, there is Hob as a 'guest' of Dream's until he completes the challenge ('So I'm a prisoner, then.' 'Oh no, you may leave any time you like, but you will gain no key until you complete my challenge.' 'But what good is leaving without the key, when I'll just be stuck here forever??' 'I fail to see how that is my problem'), there is continued verbal fencing and sparring and building UST as Hob struggles with the challenge, there is an elaborate ball (masquerade?) held, there is a waltz charged with so much tension and raging attraction it's a wonder the room doesn't spontaneously combust. There is at least one moment of 'Oh no under different circumstances this could be More™️' and genuine understanding/connection between them. In the end, Hob finally succeeds at the challenge, earns the key and departs on a note of uneasy flirtation - Dream bowing and kissing his hand in farewell as he acknowledges his defeat, lingering intense smirky eye-contact as Hob goes, that kind of thing.

Potentially this can go on, if I continue the thread of the source storyline but lean on Dream's canon for details. Perhaps collecting the three keys would give him the means to restore Orpheus/free Orpheus/something to do with Orpheus, and he's never had the means to collect the other two keys on his own, but now that Hob has collected the first and second, if Dream accompanies him while he collects the third, they can both use the keys to achieve their ends - Hob to go back to his own world and Dream to restore Orpheus. So Dream leaves Lucienne in charge of the realm and follows after Hob, catches up to him, proposes they cooperate etc; they quest for the third key and finally resolve that UST in the process. When they get the third key, and present it to let's say the Fates, they're told they cannot both claim reward - and they put the choice to Dream, his lover or his son. Let Hob go back to his world/his regular life, or be 'selfish' and choose to cash in for his own goal instead. It could end here with Dream choosing to let Hob go, which could be passing a test by the Fates and as reward for passing he still gets to save/restore Orpheus. Or, the longer and angstier version, he chooses Orpheus and thereby casts Hob into yet another alternate realm, and the next leg of the story is Dream's quest to find Hob again and seek his forgiveness, and find a way to get him home. Hob can't exactly fault Dream for choosing his son over this outsider human that he's started sleeping with, but it still hurts, still feels on some level like betrayal, and while he might like to freely offer forgiveness it's more plausible that there will have to be some earning done. Eventually of course they reconcile and find a way to get Hob home and then of course establish a means by which they can continue to cross worlds to see each other.

Anyway this is far more a mental exercise in mapping one story to another and seeing where they might translate than it is a viable fic idea; it's far too grand in scope and not nearly detailed enough for me to realistically take it on. Mostly I just want the enemies-to-lovers fraught-with-tension ballroom dancing scene.

Spotify Wrapped Askmeme Post

#Thank you!#Askmemes #TJs Writing #SpotifyWrapped asks #Dreamling #Sandman

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scarletsaphire · 8 months

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hello I am here to politely request more Gray Ghost

This is heavily based on the song In the Name Of Love by Martin Garrix and Bebe Rexha. Highly recommended great gray ghost vibes.

“Are you sure that dating is a good idea?” Valerie inhaled sharply through her nose at Danny’s words, immediately pushing down the sting of rejection. She doesn’t hide it very well, as Danny takes one look before he continues, panicked. “I don’t mean it like that! I just. Don’t know if its a good idea?”

“If you don’t like me, you can just say that,” she mumbles. She moves to turn away, but Danny grabs her wrist before she can.

“It’s not that! I do like you, and I would like to date you. I’m just worried that uh.” Danny’s face is beat red, and he lowers his voice until he’s mumbling as well. “I just don’t want something bad to happen.”

Valerie feels the sting of rejection fade slightly. “Like what?” she asks, slipping her wrist out of Danny’s grasp to properly hold her hand.

He looks down at it, face turning even redder. “I don’t know. I…” he trails off, looking towards the ground where he kicks at a loose piece of pavement. “I think you’re wonderful, and I don’t want to lose you.”

The last remnants of rejection turn to joy at his confession, and Valerie smiles softly at him, pulling him down to sit on the curb. “That’s why I’m asking you out, Danny. I think you’re wonderful too, and I like you a lot.”

He looks up at her so quickly she’s afraid he might have hurt his neck. “You do?”

She rolls her eyes. “Yea, I do. I’m pretty sure that’s a prerequisite to asking someone out on a date, you know?”

“Oh, right,” Danny says. He chuckles nervously, scratching at the back of his neck in the way he always does when he’s embarrassed. It’s adorable.

Valerie bites her lip and thinks over her next words carefully. “I don’t want to lose you either, you know. But I think we could really be good together, and if we don’t take that chance, we’ll be losing whatever we could have been. I’m willing to risk it, if you are.”

Danny meets her eyes, and she’s lost in the bright, deep blue, just like the last dozen times she’s seen them. He doesn’t answer for a minute, thinking so hard she can practically see the gears turning in his head. Finally, his face relaxes, and she gives her hand, which is still clasped in his slightly sweaty one, a gentle squeeze. “I think that I’d like that.”

—

“Are you busy tonight?” Danny asks, and Valerie jumps, hitting her hand against the locker door. “I’m sorry!” Danny says, grabbing it quickly and looking it over. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Valerie laughs. “Yea, yea, you never do.” She moves to take her hand away and finish emptying her locker, but Danny stops her. “Danny, I’m fine, you don’t need to worry about it.”

Danny smirks at her. He maintains eye contact with her as he brings her hand to his lips and gently kisses her knuckles. “There. Now you’re fine.” He lets her hand go.

Valerie flicks him in the arm. “Sap. I’m free tonight, after my shift. Why?”

“It’s supposed to be super clear then, and we should be able to see Venus without a telescope or anything. I was wondering if you’d like to go stargazing with me?”

“I think I should be able to,” she says slowly, thinking over her plans for the night. She was working until 9, and had told her father to expect her home around 11, for patrol. But she’d patrolled yesterday, and she so rarely found anything more troublesome than an ectopus. Surely, Phantom could handle Amity by himself for a few hours?

Danny smiled, bouncing so fast with excitement he might as well have been floating. “Great! I can meet you at the Nasty Burger after your shift and we can walk to the park?”

Valerie slammed her locker shut and lifted her backpack over her shoulder. “Actually, why don’t I pick you up? On the corner of Main and Jekyll?”

“Sounds good to me!” Danny agreed instantly. Then he paused in his bouncing. “But why?”

“You’ll see,” Valerie said. She hurried off down the hall, ignoring Danny’s shouted questions as she left his line of sight.

—

Valerie had her whole shift to worry about what she was planning on doing. She’d been thinking about telling Danny about her being Red Huntress for months now; there just never seemed to be a good time to do it. As nervous as she was about it, she was still certain this was the right time, if only because she needed to know what he looked like surrounded by the stars he loved so much.

Every customer in her ear piece, every load of french fries into the fryer, every tap of a key on the computer system, made her more and more jittery, both from stress and excitement. The second that the clock hit 9 Valerie was clocked out and changing out of her uniform at record speeds. She had scarcely made it behind the dumpster in the back before she was in her Red Huntress suit, soaring away on her hoverboard to the meeting place.

Sure enough, Danny stood in the dark, staring intently down the road in the direction of the Nasty Burger. Valerie floated down as gently as she could manage, getting to be a good seven feet off the ground before Danny turned to look at her. His face slackened in shock, his mouth falling open as he saw her.

She lifted back her visor and smiled at him. “What are you waiting for, Danny? Do you want to see the stars or not?” She held out her hand to him, and he took it without a second thought, stepping up on her hoverboard. He stood in front of her, with her arms wrapped around his torso to keep him secure. “I hope you’re not afraid of heights!” She called. Whatever his answer was, it was lost to the wind as they took to the skies.

Before long, the two of them found themselves floating high above the trees in Amity Park Park, sitting with their legs dangling off the side of the hoverboard and an endless expanse of night sky unbroken above them. Valerie drew her eyes away from the stars, turning them to Danny, and was surprised to see him looking at her in turn.

“Danny?” she asked, concerned. “Is something wrong?” Danny didn’t break her gaze, didn’t answer her question, just stared at her, thinking. “I know its a lot, and I’m sorry I never told you. I didn’t mean to go behind your back with all of this,” she said, panic settling in her chest. She should have thought this over more; of course he wouldn’t just accept this without a thought, she’s been keeping huge, life changing secrets from him!

“What if,” Danny said slowly. “I said this wasn’t the first time I’d been this high up?”

“What?” she asked, confused.

“Not in a plane or anything,” Danny continued. “But flying. Like this. What if I said it wasn’t my first time?”

“Well,” Valerie said, picking apart his words. They seemed so random, but they had to be leading somewhere. “I guess I’d ask when you were? And how?”

Danny hummed, and broke eye contact, looking up at the stars. “And if you didn’t like the answer?”

“I don’t understand,” Valerie said.

“What if I had the answer to that question, but it was one you hated? The type of answer that changed everything, that made you question everything you think you know?” Danny still didn’t look at her, sitting so still it didn’t even look like he was breathing. “Would you still want to know it?”

Valerie took a deep breath, the cold air stinging her nose, her lungs. “If it has to do with you, then yes. I want to know everything about you.”

Danny met her gaze that time, but what she saw was not the beautiful blue that she could get lost in for hours. Danny’s eyes were a burning, glowing green, so vibrant that they illuminated her hoverboard. “It’s not the first time I’ve been up this high. It’s not even the first time I’ve been up here with you.”

Valerie couldn’t have kept her eyes open even if she tried, as a flash of bright light emanated from Danny. She rubbed the spots out of her eyes, and then rubbed them again as she tried to figure out what she was seeing. Danny’s familiar figure had been replaced with a different figure, one just as familiar, if for very different reasons. The ghosts green eyes, the same green she had seen Danny with only moments prior, had once again drifted to the stars.

“What?” she asked, not able to speak over a whisper.

“There was an accident,” he said, and now that the answer had been placed in her lap she couldn’t help but recognize just how similar their voices were. Just how similar their everything was. “In freshman year. I died, but I didn’t do it right. I’m half ghost, and half human.”

This time it was Valerie who was slack jawed. Danny let her gather her thoughts. “I tried to end you.” The words were forced out, every syllable choked as if it hurt to say. In many ways, it did.

“I know you did. I’ve known its been you the whole time,” Danny said, and Valerie was left reeling again from that knowledge.

“But, why?” she asked finally. “If you knew it was me, why did you go out with me? Fuck, why did you try and be my friend?”

“I meant what I said. I think you’re wonderful, and you were trying to help,” Danny said. “It’s why I was worried it wouldn’t end well. I didn’t know what you would think about all of this.”

“I think,” Valerie said. It took effort to keep her voice even, but she managed. “I think that we’re both horrible at being honest.” Danny’s laughter echoed in the night, the haunting echo of a ghost. Normally that echoed chilled her, but it was still Danny’s laugh underneath it all. Danny’s laugh, which had never failed to lift her spirits. Now was not an exception. “No more secrets?” Valerie lifted her hand, pinky finger extended.

Danny looked over, and his smile wasn’t the one of glee he had worn earlier that day, but it was soft, and hopeful, and fit beautifully on his face. “No more secrets.” He looped his pinky finger around hers, locking their promise in place. His hands were ice cold. Valerie didn’t let go.

—-

Valerie didn’t bother trying to find the spare key for Fentonworks under the mat. Before she’d even started up the stairs she had an ectoblaster in her hand. By the time she made it to the top of the stairs the door handle was melted off, and she barreled in the house without breaking her momentum.

She careened through the house at top speed, slamming into walls instead of bothering to change course manually. She’d wasted too many seconds already; she couldn’t afford to be late.

She jumped down the steps to the basement, taking as many as she could at once without badly injuring herself. Even still her knees ached at the impact, but she didn’t slow down. She didn’t slow down until the Dr.’s Fenton came into view, each in their customary color coded jumpsuits, with additional surgery masks on their faces. “Stop!” she shouted, though it came out as more of a sob. “Don’t hurt him!”

Jack and Maddie shared a confused look. “Valerie, what are you doing here?” Maddie asked. Valerie didn’t answer, dashing between the two scientists to stand between them and Phantom, who was strapped to the table. “Valerie Gray, you get away from it! It’s dangerous!”

“He,” Valerie snarled. “is your son!” She didn’t bother looking at their confused faces, her full attention on Danny. He wasn’t hurt too badly, at least not for his standards. He was even still conscious, if only barely, his eyes rolled back in his head. “Danny, can you hear me?”

“Val?” he slurred, trying to turn his head towards her and failing.

“It’s me, Danny.” She fumbled at the mechanisms restraining him. “I’m gonna get you out of here, but I need you to go back to human. Can you do that for me?”

Danny squeezed his eyes the rest of the way shut as he focused. The start of his transformation rings appeared at his waist, but they sputtered out before anything could happen. “Can’t.”

Jack’s hand closed around Valerie’s wrist, firm yet gentle. “Valerie, you can’t be down here, its dangerous. I don’t know what you think it is, but its a ghost. They’re dangerous.”

“I know how dangerous ghosts can be,” she said, wrenching her arm free from Jack’s grip. “I’ve been fighting them with you for years.” She let her suit emerge, everything but the visor. “You know me, you know I’m a good ghost hunter. You’ve trusted me to help defend you in fights. So trust me now.” She pointed at Danny behind her. “That is your son, and you are hurting him. You need to let him go.”

Maddie and Jack stared at her, Jack’s shock clear on his face while Maddie had her eyes narrowed, assessing the situation. Finally, Maddie nodded her head, and moved towards the bed.

“If you’re wrong about this, we’ll be letting a dangerous creature back out into the world,” Maddie said as she worked to deactivate the restraints, Valerie hovering behind her. “But if you’re right, then we will never be able to live with ourselves.”

The restraints popped open, setting Danny free. This time, the rings didn’t petter out.

#danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #ask game #danny fenton #valerie grey #valerie gray #gray ghost #grey ghost #you get a whole ass fic i guess

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its-short-for-jackalope · 7 months

Text

WOW! THAT WAS SOME LORE, HUH? :D

reposting this meme bc it's true and bc I really like it, lol

I have quite literally been scribbling notes on a scrap of paper like a madman while rewatching TGOA part 3 as many times as possible, just jotting down all the mindboggling information we've been given, and some less direct stuff that I could be reading too much into but is fun and neat even if it doesn't amount to anything crazy and galaxy-brained, lol.

So click/tap below the cut for rambles about the final part of Pulp Musicals episode 3

The Ghosts of Antikythera ⚓️

Names, Names, Names!!!

Hey, might as well start with all the new names we've gotten!

The captain of the Antikythera — the ghost ship from 'someplace else' — is Addison Arvad.

Kal (my beloved/beloathed ❤ ) is Kalfu

The Traveler we met in TBS is Sia 💖💖

Ahlaam is another Traveler. I adore her already, and not just because she saved Rose.

Dakkar is... somebody. As expected, I've been going crazy in my dms with @man-down-in-hatchet-town, and she believes Dakkar is probably inspired by/based on Captain Nemo? 👀

King(?!) Itzal is... probably bad news! Kal's the one who calls him a King and he is obviously pretty loyal and devoted to him, and wants to impress him (aww), so methinks Itzal is maybe not so good???? (I am also a proud supporter of Brooke's Dylan Saunders as Itzal campaign, lol)

The Blazing World is home. It's where the Travelers and the Antikythera's Searchers (rip) are from, it was destroyed once—but is being rebuilt?—and Kalfu and Itzal seem to want it gone for good.

Lincoln Island is the mysterious island our heroes on the Ellen Austin are approaching at the end of the episode, the place Ahlaam sent Rose and the Antikythera to via orrery.

Quick *Approximate* Timeline

Eh, what can I say? We got numbers and I decided to do a tiny bit of math about it.

1874 — the Antikythera & the Ellen Austin

🔴 YOU ARE HERE

🎶 When are we? 🎶 Well, Morgan Reese informs our time-traveling heroes that, uh yeah lol, last he checked the year was 1874. What a funny question from a bunch of rapscallions!

Captain Arvad's logs from the Antikythera start in January 1874, so we know the Searchers were out and about in this same year. Their disappearances were recent and the ship hasn't been empty for all that long, I don't think.

1865 — may this monument stand forever

On this site in 1835, Sir John Herschel and Anna Hanover launched the first brick satellite, the Sagitta, in what was known as Township Number Nine. Erected to commemorate their bravery, to thank them for their gift to all mankind, may this monument stand forever.

Dedicated August, 1865.

1864 — the dark angel appears

A desperate AJ makes his ill-fated deal with Kal in exchange for his crew's safety during the Battle of Mobile Bay.

Damn the torpedoes.

1835 — the beginning of our adventure

🎶 IT IS EIGHTEEN THIRTY-FIVE 🎶 and the Great Moon Hoax and The Brick Satellite both happen in this year. Things were so simple back then!

1829 — the Blazing World is destroyed

In 1874, we are told (first by Arvad's journal, and then by Sia) that their home, that the Blazing World was destroyed 45 years ago. If my math is right and they're not hippity-hopping too much in time (they have time travel capabilities so idk for sure) that would put the destruction of the Blazing World in 1829.

If the world being destroyed is also the Event that Kal alludes to in Gunpowder and Rum, pt. 3 ("Your powers are returning and you still don't remember what happened? 😒") AND it's the one that left Margaret without her memories and powers, then... could Margaret have been feeling lost, alone, and disconnected with her phantom pain in New York for 6 whole years before the Stratfords wrote the hoax that would bring the quartet together??? 🥺

And while we're on the subject of time passing!

If Sia and Kalfu and everyone besides the quartet has gotten to 1874 the long way 'round... (which I think is the case if Kal snarked at Sia for hiding Margaret in the future—if he has a sense of the future in relation to the world and time, I'd say this also implies he & the others have a pretty consistent present?) ...have they aged? Or does their magic also lengthen their lives? I imagine it would be mentioned if Sia was visibly older, and since Samuel described Kal as looking ~40 years old, then how could he be younger than the war he's been in? lol. But idk, this is just food for thought!

Kal Loves His Lore Dumps, Doesn't he? This one's mostly about Margaret <3

"You've proven quite elusive over the years... We've searched across the seven seas... I suppose it's only fitting that I find you here by chance, looking for an orrery! I'd have settled for the ship, what's its name? An-ti-ky-ther-a. But you will be quite the prize. It's you that will seal our victory! A ship from the Blazing World would have been quite the quarry. But you? That could end things once and for all!"

"The ship, the orrery, they don't matter now. Not when I can dispatch the two biggest traitors in history with just one blow!"

Seems like our girl is pretty special~ 🥰

I mean, of course she is, she's our Margaret, but if Kal is willing to let the Antikythera go to get her instead, and he's so convinced that taking her out will win the war... our girl is Pretty Special™ right? Maybe she's a princess or something, or maybe her Radiance is just that heckin' strong. idk, but I'm excited to find out either way.

I'm also wondering if there's a connection between Margaret and the orrery/orreries... If Kal thought it was fitting to find her when he was after the orrery, does that mean something more? Could Margaret have created the orreries and/or the magic behind them? 👀

...actually maybe this isn't such a good and fun thing. 😅😟 Things don't usually go very well for special and important characters—what is the saying, tragedies love heroes? I mean, Margaret has lost her powers and memories once already, as well as her home and whatever family she may have had before. I know all our pulp blorbos have been in dire straights a few times now, but I don't want them to get MORE DIRE than this!

Kalfu, Sia, & Margaret's history

Kal: High marks for cloaking the fleet, but seriously—

...

Kal: Come on, it's a Traveler reunion.

...

Kal: Just a drink between three friends.

...

Sia: Oh, you were once a man that I trusted. Tell me, where has he been?

...

Sia: Itzal poisoned your mind!

Kal: Itzal opened my mind!

...

Sia and Margaret: *powering up*

Sia: Hey, Kalfu!

Kal: Huh? Ugh, not again.

Kal: *team rocket fog's blasting off again*

I think it's pretty safe to say that, once upon a time, these three were once close. Maybe they were friends and peers, or maybe Kalfu was once Sia and/or Margaret's mentor with that "high marks" comment. Whatever the case, they used to be allies who trusted each other.

I think it's also safe to say all three of them are/were Travelers. Obviously Sia is, and Margaret probably is/was one as well, since she and Sia have a badass combined attack (that I'm betting they used against Kalfu ~45 years prior). As for Kal... I don't know how the radiance and the fog fit together exactly, whether they've always been separate or the fog is a dark bastardization of the radiance, but it seems like he is on equal footing with Sia as far as magic powers go, and he can teleport like they do—AJ witnessed this at the Battle of Mobile Bay, and Samuel did (kinda) on the deck of the Ellen Austin. I don't know if that's the only qualification for being a Traveler, but it's worth mentioning.

It seems like Itzal was a pretty big factor in this trio splitting up—for whatever reason, Kal turned his back on Sia and Margaret to follow him, or perhaps Sia and Margaret left Kal behind when he wouldn't leave with them. I don't know, but I want to—I have questions!!!

Sia and Itzal — Future sight?

Kal (to Sia): You know, for someone with precognitive abilities, you sure like to cut things close. 😒

...

Kal: How I wish King Itzal was here to witness this. Or did he already know? Eh.

There's not much to say about this, really, I just think it's interesting.

But it does make me wonder if Sia *knew* that sending Margaret and the others to Hanover in 1874 would lead Margaret to the Antikythera and help her regain her memories, even if Sia couldn't see much more than that. Like, if she knew that Kal would be there, I don't think she would have put Margaret at risk like that when she was still vulnerable. Unless she was betting on Margaret figuring things out before Kal could make his move... gah, who knows! (Matt. Matt knows.) We do know that Sia can't see everything, though—she knows that the crew of the Antikythera are gone but has to ask Kal what he did with them.

Also, obligatory "yikes 😬" at the idea of having an enemy (King Itzal) who could possibly see your attacks/plans before you make them. That can't make this war any easier!

Fogging the vortices, you say?

Kal: We've been fogging the vortices for decades. There was bound to be an Antikythera sooner or later.

Vortices.... plural for vortex, yeah?

"A mass of whirling fluid or air, especially a whirlpool or whirlwind."

Is one of these vortices located here in the Sargasso Sea? Is that why Rose already knows plenty of ghost stories about these waters, why this is a strange place that'll one day be dubbed the Bermuda Triangle? Where are the other vortices??? How many are there??? What are they, exactly???

Okay, but what about the gates?

Kal: A war for a world of power and might

Sia: A war for a world of courage and light

Kal: Fought over decades

Sia: Over ascension

Kal/Sia: No chance of surrender, no chance of redemption

I'm just throwing darts here, but I feel like 'ascension' has to do with the gates that have been alluded to a few times now?

First, in TBS, Sia told Margaret that she couldn't take her to the gate until her memories were back. Then in part 2 of TGOA, Kal said something about the Antikythera's orrery leading him to the first gate.

I don't think these gates are the same thing as the vortices—if the bad guys have already been 'fogging' them, then Kal wouldn't need an orrery to find them.

The gates probably lead to the Blazing World, right? Kal and Itzal want to destroy the Blazing World for good, which is why Kal was trying to get the orrery, to get to the gate, to ascend to the Blazing World and turn it to dust once and for all.

Travelers and Symbols/Elements/Associations

To finish up, here's one of the things I've noticed more recently. We have four magical characters now who seem to be at similar levels of power and might all be/have been Travelers, and maybe it's just a fun bit of flavor rather than anything Extremely Vital to the plot, but they each seem to have their own kind of... niche?

Lemme run through 'em real quick.

Kalfu—

● Want a drink?

● Gunpowder and rum, too strong for some! 🎶

● And poison... is kinda my thing.

● Non-lethal fog, my latest brew

Kal's easy to figure out—he's been pretty clear with his gunpowder and rum (delicious!) and once he revealed it he's been very cheeky and upfront about his use of/preference for poison too. He also stands out as the only person wielding fog, but I'm sure that'll change as we delve further into the dark and into this war we're learning about.

Sia—

● "Was that sunlight shining in the sphere?"

● We're here to light the fuse

● Lay another hand on her and you'll go down in flames

● I will always be that feeling burning under your skin

hehe okay, Sia is the reason this whole section of my post exists lol. I noticed the references to fire in enough of her lines/lyrics in part 3 that I thought it couldn't be a coincidence, and then I looked at the others. I just think it's neat!

Maybe these lines are just nods to the fact that light can burn as well as illuminate—Kalfu would probably know, hah—but it is fun to think that maybe we could see our first and dearest Traveler friend whip out some cool fire magic later on—when she's not duking it out with somebody on a wooden boat, lol.

I'd love that for her, tbh.

...especially because alcohol is flammable. :)

Ahlaam—

Narrator: In a blinding flash, a woman materialized, and with a single motion, she pushed the water of the room with her mind

Okay, I fully admit this is mostly just a reason for me to make another waterbending joke. Ahlaam's appearance in this episode wasn't really long enough to give us much information about her, but I mean we also haven't seen anyone else do anything with water until she came along, so... if we see her do more stuff like this and she has more associations with water in episode 4 onwards, I will feel pretty smart. 😌

Margaret—

● the moon

● the sea

● astronomy

we might not know much about Margaret's magic beyond how brightly it glows—which isn't unique to her—and what she's been able to do with it, be we do know that she has a connection with the moon, of course.

I think we could also argue that she has a pull to the sea—mostly because of the view from her window and the rooftop, overlooking the water. Learning about the Searchers and the fact that Kal was looking for Margaret on the sea supports this connection, but again, that doesn't really single her out from the others.

Margaret does have an appreciation for astronomy, but even that might not be super unique, if her people have orreries on every ship and they all look up to the sky. However... my brain is still chewing on a possible connection between Margaret and the orrery, because of what Kal said. It would be pretty rad if she was the one who designed and crafted them, figured out that magic. So idk, that could be something.

If her memories are returning, maybe we'll see her really start to shine amongst her fellow Travelers as she recalls more about herself and brings together the person that resides in her memories and the person that losing her memories made her into.

phew, okay! this is a long post and I am now very sleepy, lol. I'm sure I missed a few things—I didn't take any *literal* notes during parts 1 & 2 and it'll be a few days before I get the album and lose my mind again—but maybe there's a few things I managed to catch that y'all will enjoy.

As always, feel free to reply/reblog with your own thoughts!!!

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ofallthingsnasty · 16 days

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Cowboy croco?? 👀👀

Omg imagine him trying to wife up a cute fat darling 🙏🙏 hot

The thing is, to me he's either some ultra slimy, wicked business type who exploits people ruthlessly and gets them with debts/gag contracts or he's a Dutch Van der Linde (rdr2) guy with his own little group of outlaws (and has his fingers in pots the others do not know about...) - or maybe more like Colm O'Driscoll, but I digress...

Oh, but him having a little crisis - he is cunning and strong, has money and smarts and loyal men and all that, but he also can tell that he's in his mid-40s now. People in that line of 'work' (people in general, back then) aged worse - and I don't mean aesthetically, I mean physically. For all he knows, it's entirely possible for him to be dead this time next year; and he can feel the phantom pain in his lost hand whenever the weather changes more and more with every passing winter. 20 years ago, that quick way of living, that uncertainty didn't bother him at all, no, it added to the thrill of everything. That was the spice his 20s and 30s were made of - when the world was his oyster and the next big thing right around the corner. But now? He's richer than before, more crafty; he knows people and how they work, knows so much yet feels so empty... Going out in a blaze of glory would have been appealing just ten years ago, now it feels shallow and vain. It's not that he wants to settle down either, it's just-

Something is missing. Between almost 30 years on the road, the street, in the wilderness, the reeking towns and cramped cities and him lying and cheating and gunning his way through it all, he has been nothing but made of red-hot iron and fury. Suddenly he's more mellow; his evil oozes more than it spurts and he feels himself longing for something - someone. Someone to apply his little ointments for him, someone who cooks for him, someone who is a base for him whenever he returns from his exploits and so much more. He suddenly finds himself yearning for the comforts a wife provides, those little joys and genuine warmth money can't buy. It's strange, really. Utterly strange and out of character for a man like him. But age turns the best of them into sentimental fools and he doesn't seem to be an exception. He finds himself conjuring up someone in his mind whenever he lords over his whiskey or stares at the moon with a cigarette in hand; how nice just another presence would be, how he could afford a wife, how having someone to adore him might be more tempting than cold metal and gems in his hand. He could have both, he reasons, and experience a sliver of peace his life has never given him so far. He has heard many old men lament the loss of a woman; decades shared toiling together, building together - it never bothered him one bit before; now he wants what he can't have.

So when he spots you - widowed, all out on your own and desperate for money, fat with luxuries your dead husband could provide for you but that are now sorely missing, he sees an opportunity; someone to take advantage of. You're perfect, just made for him: desperate, soft and sweet, with years of homemaking and pleasing underneath your belt. Oh, he'll blind you. Deceive you with a front of charm and expensive clothes, with the promises of a home of your own and food on the table. You'll buy his lies hook, line and sinker - won't question him when he evades your inquiries about his work, won't even have the time to think about just where his rings come from when every day on your own just gets harder and harder because your money is running out. You've got a sweet face; the body of a fat little wife and are worn down enough by misfortune that you cling to him like a drowning cat. You'll only see that you married the devil himself after it's all said and done; that you've been dragged into the life of a horrible criminal who'll leave you widowed again - and with the wolves to come once he's been shot like a fucking dog, someday soon.

#but he is so selfish... he lives in the now... and the now is you warming his bed and washing his clothes and trying to be perfect for him..#/crocodile #/one piece #he'll leave you in a sweet little cabin in a little town and comes around here and there... but as long as he lives you'll be alright #at least financially...#thinking about either hosea from rdr2 who was whipped for his wifey. or micah's old outlaw companion who settled with a wife in strawberry #that's what i'm thinking you know....

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myveryownfanfiction · 1 year

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18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

Warnings: Otto having a panic attack, talk of death (Rosie) and the experiment gone wrong

AN: Another No Way Home AU! This time the cure removed the actuators.

"I will not do it. I don't care what you offer me or how often you ask. I refuse." Otto shook his head, his expression stony as the two scientists stood before me. "Norman, you weren't there. You funded everything and Harry was the one that gave me the push. Rosie died because of those things. Harry almost died." He put emphasis on the lives lost and hoped that this cured Osborn would understand what he was trying to convey. Otto's eyes flickered over to me, standing with my back to the trio but listening in. "I won't put anyone though that again." Norman looked over his shoulder and nodded in understanding. Peter sighed and tried to ease the tension in his shoulders.

"But Dr. Octavius..." Norman cut him off.

"If he doesn't want to do it, then there isn't anything we can do to change his mind Peter." He put a hand on Peter's shoulder and started to steer him away. "Otto has enough on his mind right now. We should go." Otto slumped as Norman practically forced the young hero out of the lab.

"You alright?" I asked after a few minutes of silence. Otto had sat down at his computer and was staring at the screen. He slowly turned in his chair to look at me. I could feel his eyes boring into my back. Finishing up the drone I was working on, I turned to look at him.

"Come here." Otto held out his hand and I smiled softly at him as I walked over to him. Taking his hand, he helped me climb onto his lap and settle in. Once I was secured where he wanted me with his arms wrapped tightly around me, he buried his head in my neck. I reached up and ran my fingers through the slight curls at the base of his neck. He tensed up as I brushed against the scar from the A.I. chip.

"Sorry." I whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He hummed in response and held me for a little while longer.

"I think we should call it a day." He finally said, lifting his head up. I nodded, taking in the tired look in his eyes.

"Mental health day." I agreed. Otto nodded and I stood up. Taking my offered hand, Otto let me pull him up from the chair. "Take out?"

"Whatever you want. I'm not feeling particularly hungry." He murmured as he went about shutting down the lab for the day. I frowned but pulled out my phone to place the order anyway. He waited for me while I finished and held my hand all the way to the restaurant. I went in to grab the food and pay before we walked the rest of the way home. Since Otto wasn't that hungry, I put the food in the fridge. Otto went to the bedroom and found his way onto the bed. Standing in the doorway, I watched him carefully.

"Want to talk about it?" I asked finally. Otto maneuvered onto his back and watched me as I made my way to my side of the bed. "You don't have to. Norman has filled me in on a lot of what he's trying to get you to do. But something about it is bothering you." I sat down and spread my hand out, making sure out pinkies touched. He hooked his around mine and shrugged. I leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"It's just bothering me." He sighed. "They don't know what was lost the first time..." Otto trailed off, his eyes distant. I climbed into his lap and gently tugged on the hem of his shirt. Jolting out of his thoughts, Otto stared at me wide-eyed. "I'm sorry." He covered my hands gently and forced his shirt back down. "I'm not in the mood right (Y/N)." I laughed and shook my head.

"No silly. I know how you get like this. Your back is going to start to hurt soon. Phantom pains." I gently ran my hands over his stomach. "It's easier to massage them if your shirt isn't in the way." Otto sighed in relief and took off his shirt. He rolled over and laid down. I ran my hands across the expanse of his back as he propped his head on his arms.

"Norman and Peter want me to make the actuators wearable for short periods of time. For different types of experiments." He started. I hummed as I started massaging the small of his back. I tapped him and he sat up enough that I could reach around him to take off his belt. "...Like the one that permanently attached them to me in the first place." I saw the way his shoulders tensed up and I reached up to rub them. "I keep telling them I won't take that risk again. I nearly killed everyone in that room, including Harry Osborn." Otto rested his forehead against his arms, clearly starting to grow anxious over the thought.

"I understand that. Have you tried telling him that?" Otto nodded as I traced down his spine.

"I did. I even told them about Rosie." I put pressure on the middle of his spine and his breath hitched. "I didn't hold back anything about what I could remember happening. And they still want me to..." Otto broke off, his voice ending in a sob. I ran my hand over the scars that littered his back, remembering how the harness was attached to him and the amount of work Peter and I had done to remove it. The shaking of Otto's shoulders snapped me out of it and I slid off his back. Gently pushing him, Otto rolled over onto his side. He looked at me with tear soaked eyes, his breathing coming in little bursts. I instantly hugged him, grabbing and pressing his hand against my chest.

"It is alright Otto." I whispered. "In for three out for three." I counted him off and he followed my lead. "I've got you. You are going to be alright." I soothed as his breathing evened out. Closing his eyes and leaning his head against mine, Otto squeezed my hand. Smiling softly at him, I brushed his hair off his forehead. "Better?" He nodded and opened his eyes. They were still swimming with tears but he looked better than he had earlier.

"I don't want to lose you the way I lost her." He whispered, reaching up to cup my cheek. "I won't endanger Norman or Peter the way I did with Harry and my Peter." I smiled softly at him, brushing my fingers through his short curls.

"You won't." I promised. He opened his mouth to counter me but I gently kissed him. "I'll talk to Norman. You won't have to do it. And you won't endanger them." I cupped the back of his head and held him against my forehead. "You will never lose me Otto Octavius." I swore to him. "I am not going anywhere. There is nothing you can do what will make you lose me. I'm going to be right beside you through everything. Do you understand me?" Otto was tearing up again but he nodded. Closing the small gap between us, he kissed me.

"I understand." He whispered before kissing me softly again. Smiling into the kiss, I broke away.

"Great! Then let's eat. I'm starving." I climbed off the bed as Otto laughed. I smiled at him as I stood in the doorway, hand outstretched for him. Grabbing his shirt, Otto climbed off the bed and took my hand. Squeezing it, he kissed my cheek.

"Right by your side." He mused as we walked into the kitchen to reheat our dinner.

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