#a one shot is really more about intent and spirit right

[zenkindoflove]

I'm trying desperately to get this stupid one-shot done so I can post it tomorrow and have precious weekend time to work on Summer Heat, but my stupid ass starts writing smut and I basically make every fic two times longer than it has any right to be.

#a one shot is really more about intent and spirit right #anyways this fic is so stupid and self serving #but in a fun chaotic way

[in-som-niyah]

"Come on princess, don't be like that. Give Red what he deserves..."

You are Red Hood's relief. Nothing more. Nothing Less.

Your bedside alarm clock displayed an ungodly time in the morning.

It was a cold night in Gotham, your apartment filled with a chill accompanied by a familiar emptiness. It was just you, after all, and you didn't really have anyone over.

This changed, however, when a certain masked vigilante came to you for help when he was bleeding. Knowing you were a medical professional, he decided to swing by for a stitch or two. Who were you to deny him?

How could you refuse the six foot something, broad shouldered, panting, limping man barely making it across your living room?

You decided to indulge your curiosity, because let's be honest here: If he wanted you dead, he would have made it so a long time ago.

One night became two, then three, then a month and now a few times a week.

You were always welcoming him with a fresh roll of gauze and a chilled bottle of spirits for the pain, since he refused to take anything else.

But it was more than just medical attention. It was the way his chest heaved, back muscles flexed and forearms tightened when you hit a particularly tender spot. It made another certain tender spot on you wet.

Scandalously so.

You tried to hide it by wearing dark underwear and pants to bed, but it didn't help; he had you squirming and squeezing your thighs together in no time.

And there was nothing you could do about it.

He unknowingly infiltrated your senses, his scent of sweat and musky body wash making you dizzy, his vice grip on your bedsheets when you cleaned his wounds making your knees weak.

You wanted him.

You wanted him bad.

On this particular chilly Gotham night, you might just get what you want.

A loud pair of feet landed on the hardwoods near your windowsill. Heavy, irregular, yet determined footsteps proceed into your bedroom, where you've prepared your ensuite for a battered and bleeding Hood.

"Quickly, in here." you rasped having been torn from a restless sleep.

"I'm comin' sugar. Someone's eager to see me huh?" the familiar teasing tone of his voice modulator replied.

"You're only allowed to make jokes when you're not bleeding on my floor, Hood" you shot back, followed by a playful scoff and a silent eyeroll.

However, that eyeroll might not have been so silent.

As Red Hood approached the bathroom doorframe, he caught a glimpse of your feigned annoyance in the mirror.

He sat down with a thud on your toilet, exhaustion invading his bones.

You made quick, wordless work of his belt and jacket, revealing his toned exterior and the scars littering it. You never mentioned his scars, for fear of making him uncomfortable but more so because you couldn't bear the thought of someone hurting him so much that it left such a vicious mark.

"Sweet girls like you shouldn't roll their eyes, it's rude" he huffs between pained groans.

You briefly still your hand, look up at him and quirk your brow as if to challenge him. Then, you roll your eyes right in his face. You have no idea what prompted this pettiness, but your thoughts were hazy and disorganized as you looked back down to continue cleaning and stitching his wounds.

Red Hood chuckled darkly and sighed as he felt you get back to patching him up after your little stunt.

He lolls his head to the side, as if to emphasize his astonishment at your smart comeback. He didn't take you for a fiesty one.

"Really doll?" he prompts.

You say nothing and continue with your bandaging.

"Hey. Look at me." He tries again, this time with a gentler tone.

Still, you ignore him and repackage the unused gauze for another guaranteed visit from him in the future.

You go to get up, but his hand presses your shoulder down and you stop, entirely oblivious to his intentions.

Finally, your eyes meet his mask.

Red can tell you're both making eye contact, which lasts an unusually long time. You both bask in the absence of awkwardness as you indulge in this tender moment.

Slowly, you move closer to him and reach a hand up to caress his helmet. You know he can't feel it, but it feels intimate and personal nonetheless. It is only until your fingers roam lower, toward the base of his helmet and lift, that one of his hands flies up to stop your own.

"Nuh-uh babydoll, the mask stays on" he spits sharply.

The vigilante shifts in his seat, and it's only then do you realize the growing tent in his pants.

Your eyes flick back up to his helmet and it is only now, that you realize you weren't alone in your inappropriate arousal.

Hood maintains the eye contact and brings his hands to your hips, as if asking for permission before taking the plunge.

Carefully, you move your hands down his naked torso, noting how his sore muscles twitch at your light contact.

"Fuck baby-"

A hiss escapes his concealed mouth when your hands ghost over his bulge. You knew this was wrong. You knew he should be gone to wherever he should be by now. Were there people looking for him? For Christ's sake was he a criminal?

Too many questions for a mind too far gone. You weren't thinking anything beyond how sticky the bottom of your panties had become, how puffy your lips had become from constant chewing, and the cool air ghosting over your sensitive nipples.

There's no going back.

While looking at him for confirmation, you begin to unzip his fly, then massage his length from his boxers instead.

A drawn out, desperate moan is exaggerated by his modulator as hood grinds his hips into your hand involuntarily.

"Don't tease me darling, you know what I want" he orders.

Normally, you would have slapped anyone that told you what to do, but here, it only made your sopping cunt beg for relief.

Mesmerized by his boldness and not wanting to keep him waiting, you pull him out of his boxers and kiss the tip. You're met with another whine and roll of his hips.

You begin to stroke him a few times, working him up just to give him his relief.

Just as he was about to speak again, you swallowed him from tip to hilt, making his words die on his tongue.

His body tensed and relaxed with every moan and heave as you began to bob your head up and down, taking him in full each time.

His hand flew in your braided ponytail to guide your head down his shaft the way he liked it, your tongue licking at his balls every time you went down.

"Shit- Want you to touch yourself pretty thing. Show me how those dainty fingers make you feel good"

Warmth shot straight to your core at that, but you were embarrassed to pull down your shorts and panties, and show him just how bad you wanted this.

You hesitated for a moment and pulled off his length. Stroking him with one hand and licking stripes up his shaft with your tongue, you managed to smile sheepishly in a weak attempt to refuse.

Though the heat between your legs was almost unbearable, your potential embarrassment was stronger.

Red Hood cocks his head and tuts in disproval.

"Come on princess, don't be like that. Give Red what he deserves..."

You looked up at him with glassy and desperate eyes, as if to ask if he really wanted to.

The strong hand in your braids comes down to cup your cheek and rub at the side of your mouth.

"Don't keep me waiting pretty girl, I ain't asking a third time" he rasps sternly. You knew better than to disobey.

Slowly, your removed your hands, earning a groan from him. You stood up and hooked your thumbs in between your panties and supple skin and began to pull down.

Embarrassment still clear on your features, the vigilante outstretched his hands and placed them on your plush hips, rubbing circles in your skin.

This silent encouragement prompted you to continue, until you felt the cool air brush against your exposed, puffy clit.

"So pretty" Red mumbles under his breath as the hands on your hips apply gentle pressure to get you back on your knees.

This is his turn to stand up, doing so with his angry red and leaking cock in his hand.

He held it out in silent offering to you, which you took gratefully, and resumed your earlier routine.

Subconsciously, your hand made its way down to your core and your fingers found purpose in rubbing tight circles on your clit. You moaned on his length at the contact, eliciting a pleasurable hiss from him.

You could tell his eyes were trained on the target between your legs even from behind the mask.

"That's it sugar...make yourself feel good for me...good fucking girl"

Your eyes rolled again at that as you increased your pace and suction. He wasn't going to last much longer.

Though you would have no way of knowing, Red was a true gentleman despite his nighttime activities. As a gentleman, he wanted you to cum before him.

"Faster pretty girl, come on, you can do that for me fuck-"

You gave a small nod and increased the speed between your legs. You began to focus on the feeling of your fingertips sending sparks throughout your body, but you weren't close enough.

As if a psychic, he pulled himself from your mouth and sat back down. Confused, the hand between your legs stilled, and your face beginning to pout.

Before you could protest his hands again found your hips and pulled them toward him. Your hands moved to find the back of his neck as the hooded man pulled you onto him to straddle his lap.

When his hands retreated, you whined in frustration at the lack of contact.

"Shhh pretty baby you'll get it" he cooed.

You began to rock your hips against him impatiently, but his strong hands stopped your movement. Before you could complain, his right thumb began to press circles into your core with full intent of making you cum.

"Ah-ah Red please-" you cried out, unable to take the sudden pressure and pleasure at the same time. You gripped his wrist, a weak attempt to get him to slow down.

"You can take it, yes you can princess" he replies. The cheeky bastard knows just how to make your pussy throb.

"Fuck- I'm gonna-... pleasepleaseplease" you blabber desperately nearing your peak. The pressure in your tummy growing and tightening, just waiting to snap.

The Red Hood pressed his shielded forehead to yours and whispered in a deep, modulated voice.

"'M right here pretty girl, cum for me. I know you need to. Let go."

The coil snapped with ferocity and left you screaming his name. Surely the old woman next door wouldn't appreciate it, but you didn't care. Not while he was here, making you forget about the world.

You gushed on his fingers, and he took this opportunity to pump himself to completion with your juices smeared over his shaft. He came with a low grunt and short pants.

After you came down from your high, you slowly and carefully eased yourself off of him, minding his bruises and sore muscles which he appreciated.

It was still ungodly early, your eyes beginning to close with sleep as you washed your hands in the sink.

He will never admit to you that he's never been more in love with you.

Instead, he stuffs himself back into his pants and brings you back to your bed.

Once you're situated under your duvet, you reach for his hand and weakly grasp his fingers.

"Stay?" You slur, barely holding onto your awake state.

He chuckles fondly, and you can almost see a blush under his helmet.

"Maybe another time doll."

#jason peter todd #jason todd x you #jason todd comfort #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd x black!reader #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood smut #the weeknd #kissland #songfic #original writing #dc x reader #dcu #dc universe #dc comics #Spotify #the town #niyah’s songfics

[ramshacklerumble]

can I see an ashi and gigi interaction <//3 look she even has an emote 🌺

KIDDING!!!!!! BUT HI I WANT MORE GIGI CONTENT 🫶 really curious about 🦐🦑🍄 octotrio? this is my attempt at more unagi crumbs BUT!!! I AM GEN CURIOUS ABOUT OCTO INTERACTIONS 🫣 don’t think I’ve seen gigi interact w the other two ssssso 👁️👁️

in a nutshell?

if these three carked it right in front of them, gia would at long last repent and hole up in a nunnery like the good lord intended.

jk. (kinda)

on paper, gia is the octotrio’s personal henchboy as payment for a “favor” floyd does them a little prior/early into the events of book 5. (currently working on a one-shot that goes into this) originally gia’s tenure under the mostro lounge was only meant to be for a few weeks, but it’s made readily apparent once the octotrio finds use in something they are not about to let it slip through their fingers.

so begins the trio's pattern of finding even the smallest infractions on gia’s part as cause to extend their servitude under them. this is, understandably, why there's little love lost between them. i’d say gia prays for the trio’s downfall, but gia isn’t religious and far too proactive to wait around for that to happen.

they’ve made it their personal mission not to leave nrc until octavinelle is burning at their feet.

…

in reality, gia’s relationship with the octotrio is quite complicated.

they’ve been an absolute pain in the neck in every single encounter, but it doesn’t take gia long to realize the octotrio is their speedrun towards getting some REAL power in their hands. proud and hard-working they may be, gia is ultimately a pragmatist at heart.

though a bit of a showman, azul IS an undeniably powerful mage with many a tentacle in many a pie. the twins are nothing to sneeze at either.

as much as gia hates their guts, these three are their chance to make it not only to graduation but to actually make something of themself when staying at night raven is no longer an option.

and that’s not even getting into the growing familiarity between gia and the trio steadily murking the waters…

—

🦑 AZUL ASHENGROTTO: (tagging @thehollowwriter since you also sent an ask for azul)

perhaps the most subtle dynamic of the three (making it the hardest to explain) gia's view of azul can be largely inferred by their joke-title for him: boss.

if azul wants something done, then gia gets it done. gia proves themself an incredibly adept asset to azul and it's why azul pulls whatever strings he can to keep them under his thumb.

that said, while gia puts up with much of azul's overworking and respects they are indebted to the trio by not putting up much of a fuss-- azul is aware he occasionally has to sweeten the pot if he wants to keep it that way.

he'd be a fool to forget this was the same person who got all his original contracts turned to dust. and besides: what good, gracious employer doesn't reward his employees for their hard work?

so azul doesn't mind giving gia access to a few of his private merchandise channels, maybe even some of his more advanced grimoires and alchemy notes, etc.

this dynamic remains largely unchanged for a while, though if one were to squint they might catch a degree of casualness peppering their interactions over time. they indulge in subtle sniping-- even minor trolling-- namely from gia who finds azul an easy target.

they are not fully aware of how things have changed until @cyanide-latte's chrysanthos shroud makes quite a bitter impression on them both. in a low moment surprising even azul, he admits to gia that shroud makes him feel inadequate as a housewarden-- made worse by the fact azul knows it isn't shroud's intention. shroud, in his own way, truly embodies the spirit of benevolence an octavinelle housewarden should be and it's something azul wonders he'll ever be able to do himself. (you can read more on this in cy's post: here!)

gia, in an attempt to give azul the peace of mind that they won't try to use this moment of weakness against him (and bolstered by the knowledge this could come in as blackmail should he think to use what they're about to tell him), shares a bit of their own worries shroud managed to jar loose.

working for the trio is hard, however, it's also been the path that's given gia the most opportunities. but, with the trio being a year ahead of them, gia is well aware their time with them is limited. they can’t help but mull over what is to become of them when the trio leave for their senior internships. gia will likely never see them again and likely be nothing more than a footnote from the trio’s school lives. a strange, magicless weirdo from another dimension, wasn’t that a fun little story?

gia’s probably going to have a lot of free time as a junior and who knows how they plan to go about senior year, frankly, they’re a bit at a loss with themself…

anyway. if it weren't for azul """kindly""" giving them the chance to gain what they DO have by working for him (or whatever), they'd probably be even more lost than they are now. he's a pain and a half, but he's probably not the worst housewarden in octavinelle history.

at this, azul reminds gia he's made his plans to branch out the mostro lounge to the public quite clear. gia wouldn’t be bound to them anymore, but it'd be a shame to let their experience at the school's location go to waste, wouldn't it?

—

🍄 - JADE LEECH

gia's relationship with jade is probably the strangest because despite jade being the one that wigs gia out the most, he is also the one gia openly gets along with the best.

fun fact: gia opened up their own club. the biking club. they are the only person in said club because, for some reason or another, they reject anyone who tries to get in. it might have to do with the fact the reason the club exists is because they needed an excuse to have a bike on school grounds they are allowed to ride anywhere unquestioned-- such as for personal errands or scavenging for potion ingredients. this includes up in the mountains.

y'know who else is often in the mountains..?

because of this little coinkidink, jade found a very weak and fevered gia struggling to get off the ground because they'd stupidly decided to go out foraging while sick. and of course, what good, gracious vice-housewarden of octavinelle wouldn't lend a hand to a poor, unfortunate underclassman in need despite their fervent protests? they're obviously, deliriously ill and are unaware of what's best for them…

indebted to jade on top of the octotrio as a whole, gia lost what little personal time they had as president of their own one-man club. now the biking club is (semi-officially) affiliated with his mountain lovers' club-- meaning gia accompanies him whenever he goes and bikes him around trails whenever he feels like it.

in theory, being alone up a mountain with jade leech should be terrifying, but gia sincerely enjoys these outings. jade is not only incredibly well-versed in mountain flora but a skilled potionologist in his own right.

honestly, it’s not bad.

—

BONUS:

BONUS BONUS:

they're friends :)

@inmateofthemind @simons-twsted-children @tixdixl @jovieinramshackle @blithesharem @theleechyskrunkly @skriblee-ksk (lemme know if anyone wants to be included in tags)

#this is another thing ive had squirreled away for months #you asked for floyd as well i know but just the other two alone gave me a hard time WHEEZE #another day #oc ask meme #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #octotrio #octavinelle #gia yugo #yuusona #twst #twisted wonderland #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #disney twst #oathofoaks

[hollowed-theory-hall]

I agree that Sirius was the best caring adult figure in Harry's life, but there is something that has been bothering me.

Molly said that Sirius was seeing James instead of Harry and was treating the latter as the former's stand in and well this line from GOF came to mind- ‘You’re less like your father than I thought,’ he said finally, a definite coolness in his voice. ‘The risk would’ve been what made it fun for James.’ 

So like I am unsure if I just started viewing their interactions through this lens without any basis after Molly mentioned that line, or if Sirius actually did this in canon. Thoughts?

Hi, 👋

I think Molly is wrong about how Sirius sees Harry as a James stand-in. Sirius doesn't treat Harry the way he treated James. I covered it a bit here, but Sirius is very protective of Harry. While Sirius would definitely do a lot to keep James safe, it's different. Sirius saw James as an equal, capable of just as much as himself, Harry, whom he clearly treats as someone more precious than himself. The way he tries to protect Harry and gives advice to him never read to me like how you'd talk to your best friend who's your peer.

And Sirius knows Harry isn't James. In the quote you brought up yourself, he even calls it out. The line is from OotP and the context is kind of important here. This is after Sirius was stuck in Grimauld for the better part of the year and offered Harry to come check on him during a Hogsmead weekend in his dog form. Harry shot him down:

“All right, all right, I’ve got the point,” said Sirius. He looked most displeased. “Just an idea, thought you might like to get together —” “I would, I just don’t want you chucked back in Azkaban!” said Harry. There was a pause in which Sirius looked out of the fire at Harry, a crease between his sunken eyes. “You’re less like your father than I thought,” he said finally, a definite coolness in his voice. “The risk would’ve been what made it fun for James.”

(OotP, 305)

What Sirius is doing here isn't nice, but it's not really him seeing Harry as a James stand-in. He is guilting Harry using James to agree to him to come. Sirius just wants to do something, to get out of Grimauld, and he cares a lot for Harry's safety, but not much for his own. So, to Sirius, the risk of getting caught and sent back to Azkaban isn't as bad as someone hurting Hary. But Harry wants to protect Sirius. So, Sirius is doing a shitty thing trying to guilt Harry using his dad, but he is in a very bad place mentally, and back in GoF, it always seemed to me he sees Harry as Harry.

All the advice Sirius gives Harry is with the intent of keeping him safe. With James, I think he would approach advice in a whole different way. Here is a scene from GOF that doesn't strike me as the way Sirius would behave with James, an equal peer:

“Sirius — how’re you doing?” ... “Never mind me, how are you?” said Sirius seriously. “I’m —” For a second, Harry tried to say “fine” — but he couldn’t do it. Before he could stop himself, he was talking more than he’d talked in days — about how no one believed he hadn’t entered the tournament of his own free will, how Rita Skeeter had lied about him in the Daily Prophet, how he couldn’t walk down a corridor without being sneered at — and about Ron, Ron not believing him, Ron’s jealousy . . . “. . . and now Hagrid’s just shown me what’s coming in the first task, and it’s dragons, Sirius, and I’m a goner,” he finished desperately. Sirius looked at him, eyes full of concern, eyes that had not yet lost the look that Azkaban had given them — that deadened, haunted look. He had let Harry talk himself into silence without interruption, “Dragons we can deal with, Harry, but we’ll get to that in a minute — I haven’t got long here . . . I’ve broken into a wizarding house to use the fire, but they could be back at any time. There are things I need to warn you about.” “What?” said Harry, feeling his spirits slip a further few notches. . . . Surely there could be nothing worse than dragons coming? “Karkaroff,” said Sirius. “Harry, he was a Death Eater. You know what Death Eaters are, don’t you?” “Yes — he — what?” “He was caught, he was in Azkaban with me, but he got released...

(GoF, 331-332)

Harry's well-being is more important than his own, Sirius, at no point complains about living in caves or eating rats to Harry. To his best friend James, I can guarantee Sirius would have made at least a quip about it. Not with Harry. Because Sirius doesn't want him to feel any guilt over asking him for help or advice.

And Sirius just lets Harry rent, just talk his heart out because he needs to and he has no one else to talk to. This is something I believe he would've done for James too, but with James, it would be mutual. Both of them would rent to each other and make jokes about it to lighten the mood, with Harry he doesn't do any of that. He's concerned for Harry, at no point does he talk about himself. Harry remarks himself Sirius looks concerned and not with the same dead, haunted look from Azkaban.

And Sirius explains things to Harry patiently, he doesn't expect him to know everything he knows in the way he would with James. He's aware Harry isn't James, that he's younger, that he needs to be protected. Sirius is aware he is the adult and that he should take care of Harry and allow him to feel safe his own comfort be damned.

So, yes, I think Molly's line colored their interactions in OOTP for a lot of fans. Sirius, being in an overall worse mental state and lashing out more, helped this image. But I never got the impression Sirius saw Harry as James reborn at any point.

The movies did Sirius no favors either by adding this line: "Nice one, James!"

I hate that line so much, it just doesn't represent the way Sirius sees Harry at all. Sirius sees James in Harry, but he is still aware he's a different person. I think he's not as crazed from his time in Azkaban as Molly or some of the fandom think him to be. In GoF, he is so sensible, and he actually figured out the whole plot except for who the Death Eater is. His less stable behavior in OotP I think is more a result of being essentially under home arrest (in a place that he both misses and despises himself for missing) while people he cares for are in danger and less the result of Azkaban.

#harry potter #hp #asks #sirius black #pro sirius black #good godfather sirius black #harry james potter #hp meta #harry potter meta #sirius black meta

[wannaeatramyeon]

Helloooo I just wanted to say I absolutely love your writing! I always look forward to your posts, they just make my day! When I‘m feeling down they cheer me up and when I‘m in high spirits they make me even happier. So keep up the good work :3

Btw I‘d also like to request the Lookism boys reacting to them accidentically hurting their S/O (especially Jake and Goo, I just love them) 🥹

If you don‘t want to it’s fine! I also just wanted to tell you I really appreciate your writing🫶🏻 Thx!

~Your fan

Hi Anon! SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY. I know it's been a while. Thank you so much for your kind words omg 🥹 your words are also a wonderful pickmeup for me too. I will work harder to keep making the most of this fixation with these silly boys 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ And don't worry, as long as I keep putting out bullshit for Lookism, there will always be some Jake and Goo cos they are my faaaaaves.

Accidentally hurting S/O: Goo, Jake, Gun, Samuel, Vin

Neither of you ever go full force in your spars together. The intent was to improve, not maim.

However, seeing a gap in your defensive stance, their right fist jabs out. Quick as lightning, hitting you in the ribcage.

Which you usually would be able to tank, except.

Fucking liver shot.

All your focus and drive is knocked out with that one hit. You're breathless, trying desperately to stay standing-

Goo x Reader

"Princess?"

Goo raises his eyebrows, a smirk gracing his features. It's not the first time you've manipulated him and then punched him as soon as he was within reach. No chance is he falling for it again.

At the sound of your whimpers, and pathetic sight of you head down, clutching your side, Goo finally backs down.

Surely he didn't hit you that hard, right? He thought you were much sturdier than that especially with all the trash talk coming out of your mouth.

"Cupcake, you ok?" The mirth isn't entirely gone from his voice, but he tilts your face up towards him and gasps at the tears in your eyes.

"My little baby! Did I hurt you?" his fingers come up to wipe the tears from your cheeks, "I didn't know you were so weak. Such a delicate little flower, my buttercup. I didn't even try, and you couldn't withstand that? My sweet darling."

Your tears dry quickly when you hear his words. More gloating than concern. "You asshole, that was a cheap shot."

"If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen, sweetheart."

"Asshole," you repeat as he cackles like a hyena.

"C'mon," Goo gives you a loud obnoxious smooch on the forehead for your troubles, "Let your Goo bear look after you today."

Jake Kim x Reader

Jake realised the impact before you did. Already too late for his fist to change course and resulting in your face crumpling up in pain.

"Shit!" his hands come up, gingerly assessing the area and eyes frantically searching yours, "Y/N, are you ok?"

"No," you squeak out and Jake has never felt such panic before. Is that his life flashing before his eyes?

And then when your eyes well up with tears, lip starting to quiver, Jake feels his soul departing his body.

Shitshitshit-

The apologies tumble out.

Of course, you can't blame him. Accidents are a natural byproduct of sparring. Jake suffered a sprained ankle not too long ago, and you still can't bend your left middle finger fully.

You regain your breath as his hands rove all over to check for any other injuries. Needing to touch you and feel that you're still fine.

"Jake?" You interrupt his worried movements.

"Hmm?"

Probably an inopportune moment, yet even through the pain, it warms your heart seeing how much Jake cares about you. "Love you."

Oh. Jake wasn't expecting that. That's what you give him after a liver shot? You really are too adorable for words.

With a soft smile, he tells you he loves you too.

Gun Park x Reader

Clearly unimpressed, Gun watches you.

With anyone else, he would have called them pathetic, worthless and a waste of his time.

But with you, it's not time wasted. He would rather be with you, than not at all. Which he finds difficult to admit. That fact at complete odds with his drive and his self. A personal weakness he is willing to overlook.

From the offset, Gun could see there was zero possibility of you becoming his masterpiece. Simply put, you didn't have the body nor talent nor skill. When you first asked him to start sparring with you though, he acquiesced. Frankly, has he ever even said no to you.

You chance a peek at your boyfriend. Already you are expecting a look of disappointment, instead you see his retreating back, leaving you alone.

Tears spring to your eyes and you drop your head in shame. Damn, this hurts. You're no match for Gun, no match for most people really. Still, you've been trying to improve.

As you wallow, a blanket is wrapped around your shoulders. In the blink of an eye, Gun hoists you into an effortless bridal carry, calling you an idiot.

You know his words have no bite, his actions speak far louder.

Arms wrapping around his neck, the pain subsides as you nuzzle him.

Samuel Seo x Reader

Samuel feels it in his superiority complex first, always bubbling away and too deeply ingrained for anything else.

Incapacitating an opponent, dominating them, proving that he is better.

Followed quickly by fuck. This isn't an opponent. Not really. It's you.

"Y/N?" he holds you by the shoulders and you lean into it, your legs too weak to hold you up.

Samuel's eyes cloud with worry when you let out a feeble groan.

"Come on," he picks you up, maneuvering you into a fireman's lift with grace and you with anything but. Ass in the air, hair flopping down, still feeling waves of pain.

Samuel faintly recalls his packed calendar for the rest of his day. Meetings upon meetings. Calls and face-to-faces with vendors and investors and corporate fucks who can barely form a thought between them without a brainstorming meeting and a presentation.

"Ughhh Sammy I feel like shit," you gurgle from behind him, and that is all it takes for him to wipe his schedule clean.

None of it matters.

He'll be spending the rest of the day with you instead.

Vin Jin x Reader

Vin nudges you with his foot, "Get up."

In the end, your legs had crumpled beneath you until you're flat on the floor, hands clutched to your throbbing side.

At your lack of response, Vin tries again. "Get up you pussy."

Vin is Vin. An asshole to the end.

"Go away," your voice is weak, barely reaching his ears.

He squats down and squints through his shades, trying to get a closer look at what the hell is wrong with you. He barely even touched you.

"Yeesh, are you really this weak? You're no fun."

You can't bring yourself to say anything to that, just throwing a glare at him. So venomous that you hope it penetrates those stupid sunglasses and into his soul.

"Whatever, if this is what we're doing now." As if he wasn't the cause of your predicament, Vin lets out a melodramatic sigh and lies down beside you.

"You're such a loser," he says, even as he shuffles close, carefully positioning your head on his shoulder and pulling your body to his.

#lookism #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon #lookism x reader #goo kim x reader #kim joongoo x reader #jake kim x reader #kim gimyeong x reader #kim gimyung x reader #gun park x reader #park jonggun x reader #vin jin x reader #jin hobin x reader #samuel seo x reader #seo seongun x reader #lookism fic #lookism hc #wannaeatramyeon

[justafriend-ql]

it's all about the *hands* (hidden agenda meta)

i really love the focus hidden agenda is putting on hands, and not just in the hand-holding scenes. even when joke and zo's hands aren't the primary focus of the shot, they're almost always doing something interesting - especially in zo's case. although he's tight-lipped and hesitant about his feelings for joke, zo's hands reveal what he dares not admit.

the expressive power of hands

first, let me nerd out a little about how important hands are as conveyors of emotion. earlier this year, i had the opportunity to go to an exhibit displaying the work of french sculptor françois auguste rené rodin, who "almost obsessively explored the expressive power of hands" . he believed that hands could convey just as much, if not more, emotion than facial expressions. he created several hand studies, my favorite of which - "the cathedral" - i've featured below. the sculpture depicts two hands encircled around one another, fingers just about to touch.

you don't need to see anything but the hands in order to get a feeling of romance, anticipation, and desire. in the spirit of these rodin statues, i want to focus just on joke and zo's hands, and how the series has employed them to tell us how joke and zo feel about each other, even when they otherwise mask their feelings.

joke reaches out; zo panics

hidden agenda #1 in this series is joke's plan to get close to zo under the pretense of helping him win over nita. but it's not very well hidden, as many viewers have noted, because joke keeps reaching out and touching zo. most of the time, it's intentional: too afraid to say he likes zo aloud, he uses his hands to tell zo instead.

and you can tell zo receives the message, because every time joke touches him, he Feels Things and freaks out.

what's interesting is that zo isn't freaking out about joke wanting to touch him. he's freaking out because he wants to touch joke. and he has since the beginning.

gif from @respectthepetty, who first highlighted this moment

and when he's not thinking too much about it, he does reach out and touch joke.

gifs from @gunsatthaphan and @mooninagust, respectively

unfortunately, zo is an overthinker.

zo's hand gestures are usually precise and deliberate, but when joke flirts, they become nervous and clumsy

another way we see zo's feelings for joke through his hands is how zo's precise gestures become clumsy when he's around joke. zo is a dedicated member of the debate team, and that affects the way he talks and gestures. in promo videos and interviews for the series, dunk has frequently mentioned how he had to practice talking and gesturing in the distinct, formal way people do during debates. he thinks before he speaks, talks slowly, and exaggerates his hand gestures to emphasize what he's saying.

but when he's flustered by what joke says or does, all that debate team training goes out the window. he flails, fidgets, and clutches his hands into fists. because he's nervous - big time.

fantastic gif from @chinzhilla

(right before joke asks zo how he feels about him)

when things get intimate, zo doesn't touch joke

reflecting his nervousness and hesitancy about his feelings for joke, zo is careful not to touch him when they kiss, nor when he finds their faces centimeters apart when they're sharing a bed.

gif from @mooninagust

he doesn't touch joke in these especially heated moments because to do so would be a confession in of itself, and he's not ready for that. but he's working towards it - as he becomes more comfortable with his feelings for joke, he's started to reach out to hold his hand (twice in episode 6).

zo's hands are very dynamic in these two scenes. he's relishing the ability to express how he feels in a way that feels comfortable for him, and he's exploring the new sensation of closeness with joke, finding that he likes it.

gif from @userneos

so next time he kisses joke, he's not only going to touch joke - he's going to pull him in closer.

#hidden agenda #hidden agenda meta #hidden agenda the series #jokezo #this is... excessively long #i'm so sorry the hands have taken over my brain

[unorthodoxx-page]

Super quick about my Something Silly one-shots. If anyone wants to use them as a jumping off point then go for it!!!! I saw a few questions about it in some of the reblogs. I don’t have any real intentions of going back and finishing them……..except for the Harry Potter one lol. I’m trying not think about it right now.

Anyway! If any of them inspire you, or if something in Recoil and/or A Tale of Spirits inspires you (I’ve been asked this as well), or any of my stories really then I’m ok with it! As long as you aren’t copying them word for word, then you don’t need to ask me for permission! Fanfiction is playground! Plus, the more crossovers the merrier!! Tag or message me so I can read them!! I love a good crossover

I’m going to pin this post once I figure out how lol

Here are my most recent crossovers

A Tale of Spirits - updates on Sunday

Recoil - complete

#ao3 #fanfiction #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #fanfic #crossover #tmnt #ao3fic #tmnt donnie #tmnt leo #tmnt mikey #tmnt raph #the avengers #recoil #crossover fanfiction #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles movie #atla #avatar the last airbender #atla fanfic #a Tale of spirits #one-shots #something silly #inspiration #you don’t need to ask me permission if my stories jump start an idea! #go write! #I would love to read them

[i-smoke-chapstick]

'DON'T BLAME ME, [PART FOUR]

-GOTHAM!JERVIS TETCH X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; You're in oddly high spirits tonight.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!jervis x female reader. SLOW BURN!!! Not sure how many chapters this will be yet! LOTS OF PLOT SET-UP!! AGE GAP ROMANCE! (reader is Jim and Barbara's daughter) The slow burn is slow burning, no really, it's on fire. She fell first, he fell harder. Readers more like Alice than Alice is, tbh. Writing this kind of artistically and as character studies for everyone. Reader and Butch have a shared trauma bond from Barbara and Tabs. Jervis being an obsessive freak, per usual. Jim Gordon is still...Jim Gordoning. I'm taking canon out back and beating it with a stick until it stops twitching.

⋆ tag list (tell me if you want to be removed!) @adalwolfgang @jervis-tetch-my-beloved @honestmrdual @moonlightnyx @all-things-fandomstuck @killingboredom

⋆ 'PART ONE, - 'PART TWO, - 'PART THREE, - 'PART FOUR, - ‘PART FIVE, - ‘PART SIX, - 'PART SEVEN, - 'PART EIGHT, - 'PART NINE, -'PART TEN, - 'PART ELEVEN, - 'PART TWELVE, - 'PART THIRTEEN,

♫ “Don't blame me, love made me crazy, if it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right.” Don't Blame Me by Taylor Swift

Time slows sometimes in Gotham. Todays one of those days. You frequently think it's always one of those days. You wish you could up and leave the city. You made that promise to yourself- a long time ago, when your mom and dad got turned all upside down. You wouldn't let this city kill you.

Obviously, though, you often wonder if they'd ever even let you leave. Dad- maybe. You like to think he'd understand. But you think he might kill himself without you, too.

It's your mom that's the issue, you find. She intends to cling onto you for the rest of your lives. You remember a conversation you had with Selina not too long ago.

"When Bab's buries her claws in something, she never lets go. How do you think she got the club from Penguin?" You often wonder if she has her claws buried in you. You often wonder how deep they really go.

You can hear the faint clapping in the back of the crowd. You stare at the stage, intently, seeing Jervis and your mom parade around. They look like they are having the time of their lives, Jervis hypnotizing her to dance with him. You watch Tabitha look on, in an odd mix of disdain and fascination.

Letting them finish their act, you walk along the bar floor. You pretend to ignore the gaze held on you, both by Mr. Tetch and your mom.

You find Butch, sitting alone, nursing one-too-many shot glasses.

"Hey kid." He says, huffing a sigh, when he notices you sit down next to him. You both share an exasperated look, looking between Barbara and Jervis and Tabitha.

"What's up with you?" You ask, and he grumbles.

"Headache."

"And you think drinking more is gonna help?"

He rolls his eyes, effectively fed up. You lightly pat his shoulder in sympathy.

You didn't mind Butch. The first time you'd met him was when he tried to kill you, and hold you and your mom captive for Falcone. Oh, how the times have changed.

"You and Tabitha doing okay?" You ask. You know he's dying to shout about it to someone, if not on the surface, then deep down. But his resolve is as strong as ever. He shakes his head, and swallows air.

"We're fine." You know it's a lie. You know he thinks your mom is a bitch. It used to bother you, but now it just makes you shrug. "You...uh...wanna put in a good word for me? With Tabs?" He asks, hopeful.

You look at him, eyes softening. "Yeah. I can." You nod, and he nods back. Ah, mutual discontentment. You remember why you like him.

The sound of clapping grows louder, and takes the two of you out of your somewhat comfortable silence. Butch raises a glass to you, abet sarcastically, and downs it.

You watch as Jervis and Barbara flood down the stage, bowing. Your mother looks absolutely enamored with the praise. Jervis does as well. They murmur thank you's as they push past the crowd. You offer Butch a parting glance, before moving toward the pair.

"Not half bad." Tabitha remarks, coming up from behind you. It almost startles you, and you catch the way Jervis's eyes glimmer at your jump.

"Please. That was the best dancing you've ever seen in your life." Your mother rolls her eyes. The comment surprisingly brings a smile to your face. It's something the old her would've said too.

"Thank you for the dance, Ms. Kean." Jervis offers a gentlemanly grin, and Barbara nods. You watch her and Tabitha fall into a conversation, talking and laughing through playful insults. When the band starts, Tabitha brings Barbara to the floor to dance with her instead. It's...surprisingly sweet.

Jervis must take note of your longing gaze. He speaks, gently.

"Why don't you dance with them?" He urges- and he reminds you of a teacher, trying to get you to play with the other kids. It almost makes you giggle.

"I'm not a good dancer." You click your tongue. He makes a noise of understanding.

"How unfortunate," He remarks. "You must allow me a dance, one day. I would be delighted to teach you."

Between your mother being a bit like her old self, and your conversation with Butch, you somehow feel elated at his words.

"I'd like that." You whisper, and out of the corner of your eye, you watch his smile falter, as if he wasn't expecting your immediate agreeance. The thought strangely makes you even happier. You're in high spirits tonight.

Said spirits seem to fall quite quickly though, when you notice your father marching into the club. The smile on your face, as well as Jervis's, seem to slowly evaporate at the sight. Jervis hurries towards him, and you weave your way behind, following him like a child.

"Did you find her?" Jervis asks, excitable. But you know the look on your fathers face. Somethings wrong.

"I found her. Lost her. She shot a man and set fire to his body. Said she had an infection," Jim growls out. You attempt to digest the information, whilst Jervis looks far less bothered than he should look. "Also, said she doesn't want anything to do with you."

Oh, I look at Jervis. He looks bothered at that.

"You want to tell me what the hell is going on?" Your dad looks pissed. You want to bang your head against a wall. Nothing in Gotham is ever easy, is it?

"It's complicated-" Jervis begins, before your dad steps in to grab him by his suit jacket. Your eyes widen at the move. When he goes to make a threat, you push him off. Both Jervis and your dad look at you bewildered.

"Hands off, dad. This is mom's club. Don't make a scene. Not with him." You nod to Jervis, and you find his mouth is slightly agape, eyes focused solely on you.

Your dad backs away a bit, looking at the ground, and clenching his jaw.

"Let's talk somewhere private, shall we? Allow me to explain the situation?" Jervis manages to speak with civility. They stare at each other for a moment, tense, before heading out without a word. Before your dad follows him out, he shoots you a look of chagrin.

You stand alone in the club, unaware where your mother and Tabitha have disappeared off too. You look back to find Butch missing from his seat at the bar.

Time slows sometimes in Gotham. Todays one of those days.

#gotham #x reader #gotham x reader #batman #batman rogues #batman rouges gallery #batman x reader #gotham villains x reader #dc comics #jervis tetch x reader #jervis tetch #the mad hatter #dc mad hatter #jervis tetch gotham #jervis tetch imagine #fic series #the mad hatter dc #the mad hatter x reader #gotham jervis

[dangerously-human]

in the spirit of botheration, tell me why I should watch Dune

I adore the botheration, especially from you! Okay, SO, Dune:

Outstanding auditory experience - and I don't just mean oh, the soundtrack sounds nice, although it is bangin'; I mean the sound effects are really good and fit the atmosphere so well, and the music sets the exact right tone and strikes that balance of heroic and ominous so well, and even things like vocal acting choices and volume changes are so intentional and serve the story.

Visually gorgeous! Stunning scenery, an impressive use of practical effects, so many shots that make me mumble, "The cinnamon topography..." (And now I'm making myself cackle, because yeah, that's Arrakis in general, isn't it, with all the spice and sand?)

No one is fully in the right! Ever! To varying capacities, everyone is morally grey and selfish and misguided and noble and changing. I love it.

Foundational sci-fi! If you want to understand why the genre is the way it is, Dune is key. (I have not yet read the books. I will, probably sooner rather than later, but there's actually something quite fun about starting with an adaptation that has been influenced by all these stories that were so heavily influenced by what it's adapting.)

Also just REALLY FREAKING GOOD sci-fi in general. There is nothing in this world I love as much as sci-fi that takes full advantage of the genre.

I will not lie, Timothee Chalamet's presence is a significant perk. Mostly because he suits the role of Paul alarmingly well, but also because he looks, you know, Like That. If tripped-out twink is not your type, however (more's the pity for you), may I present Oscar Isaac and his flawless facial hair as a mostly magnanimous leader? Actually there are lots of beautiful options in this movie, and the casting in general is quite good.

Very little, strictly speaking, Happens in the first movie. It's mostly worldbuilding and character development. In a 2.5 hour movie, this might seem to threaten boredom. However, the pacing works perfectly, and I came away with the right balance of intrigue and follow-up questions. (The second movie moves much faster, while also deepening character arcs and expanding the political context, and that also worked really well. Despite my reservations, I did not spend one second of the almost three hours impatient or bored.)

The Themes! All the ones sci-fi does best, really. Love me some exploration of colonialism and generational trauma, the ways trying to control the future WILL backfire, devotion turned to obsession, questions of what home and family mean in a personal and social context when you've never been fully allowed to embrace or exist in either, the dangers of manipulating religion for political gain...

Meme comprehension. You know you want to understand why we're all snickering about worms all the time.

Most importantly, I will be making a nuisance of myself about it on your dash for the foreseeable future, so might as well join in and be part of it!

#personal #dune

[askew-d]

Can I ask, who are your top favorite romantic couples (can be canon or non canon) of all time from any media? Why you love them? Thx :D

here i go with another grand list that i was very happy to write! i’m in love with these asks, really. i’ll mention all of them, but at first i was in doubt if i could include one that isn’t ‘canon’, but rather rpf. either way, i added bonus couples for good reasoning! let’s go.

1. wangxian (lan wangji x wei wuxian), from mo dao zu shi — they are THE moment, they are THE couple, they are THE goals. who ever could have imagined someone would come up and write a troublemaker who falls into demonic arts and gets reincarnated to fight together with a sucker-for-rules expressionless man and make it work? they fit into any au as well, this fandom rocks. my lovely cultivators!

2. kagehina (kageyama tobio x hinata shouyou), from haikyuu!! — i dont even play volleyball. i dont even like sports! why do i love this anime and this duo specifically so much? they are so passionate about their hobbies, the rivalry and frenemy relationship? the POTENTIAL. the STORY they have. the "someone better will come and find you" promise. sheer beauty. they are silly and fresh and cute and i dont think i'll ever get tired of it.

3. yizhan (wang yibo x xiao zhan), from the untamed cast rpf — i know all the problematics about writing real person fiction. i KNOW, okay?? but people, let me like them and support them in peace?? 😔 i have so much love for these men, and its overall hella fun following their life unfold, even if they are not working together anymore. nonetheless, they are my dose of serotonin when i need it.

4. daiharu (kambe daisuke x katou haru), from fugou keiji: balance unlimited — i will not scream for a seson 2 here. i will scream for more FICS of them here! there ain't enough! its not even about the 'sugar daddy' appeal, its more about the 'partners in (solving) crime' appeal. oh and also the 'i hate you you arrogant prick but i WILL do anything for you' part. everything and every detail of this show.... seriously though: gold.

5. hilson (gregory house x james wilson), from house m.d — oh, my sweet stupid and repressed doctors, i would do unspeakable things for you. wilson has been through every hard moment of house's life. you can name them, he's been there. through every ridiculous situation of his too. it is overwhelming, honestly. the ending couldn't have been more reasonable and fitting for them, in my opinion.

6. hannigram (hannibal lecter x will graham), from hannibal — this gif alone of them with scratches and smiling conspiratorily to each other sums up their entire dynamic. they're toxic and no one's doing it like them. like, yeah, no shit, who would even dare, right? murder husbands can do anything and eat the rude as much as they want, i will be sipping on my drink and watching intently. (man truly looked at this detective he framed for murder and said he would remember their moment together forever??? just dont throw him in jail then???)

7. shiguang (lu guang x cheng xiaoshi), from link click — these pretty boys traveling through time invented the concept of yearning, and i will not explain more to not give season 2 spoilers. i fell in love with them as soon as i saw the first shot of the anime. it doesnt help that they have the same dynamic as wangxian, too. cheng xiaoshi, my beloved, you would never do anything to harm anyone (not purposefully) and i (as well as lu guang) worship you 🙏

8. renga (hasegawa langa x kyan reki), from sk8: the infinity — let's be true tho, can they never do a sports anime without pulling up homosexuals?? not that im complaining at all. please continue, in fact. every couple in this story is valid (adam does not exist), and i love this spirited, young concept of redescovering the beauty of a hobbie. lovely, all of them, but most specially my langa and his admiration for reki. their dynamic has no complications, its just so sweet.

9. moshang (mobei jun x shang qinghua), from the scum villain self-saving system — i will not share a pic of moshang official art because i find shang qinghua appearence too much childlike and annoying, meanwhile i find him much more interesting in the book and fanarts. in any case, i love this couple more than the main couple simply because our airplane-bro can make everything so hilarious. there are fics of them out there which are peak entertainment (check this one!). mobei's tsundere attitude and shang qinghua's shamelessness are a great combo.

10. hualing (hua cheng x xie lian), from heaven official’s blessing — the longing is unbearable. hua cheng loves this man so much, for real. waiting 800 fucking years?? being his most devoted believer? can you believe the audacity?? my man, though he has low self-steem, does anything to protect his god. he doesnt care about any realm. he only cares for xie lian, his dear god. they are the cutest couple.

bonus: aziracrow, johnlock, tododeku, victuuri, blackbonnet, mafuyama, redblue (from this is how you lose the time war).

these are my favorite ships ever! they are what i scream about alternatively, and when i say so, i'm not joking. one week i'm freaking out over new link click content and in the other one i'm reviewing house m.d episodes. my life's a circle with my favorite ships in it and i ain't regretting anything.

thank you for asking, by the way! big hugs! 🤍

#bjyx #yizhan #hualin #moshang #renga #shiguang #link click #hannigram #murder husbands #daiharu #kagehina #hilson #wangxian #mdzs #couples #lgbtqia

[memphisnovels]

Evermore

Chapter 17. Let the light in

Previous chapter

Masterlist

I hope you enjoy <3

pairing: Pietro Maximoff x OFC

warnings: canon-typical violence, torture, injuries, Pietro and Nadia being Pietro and Nadia, arguing, confessions...

Bright white lights blinded me with every blink, causing me to shut my eyes tightly. A pounding ache set into the side of my head as I became conscious. My hand shot to my head a low groan coming from my very dry throat as I pressed against the spot the pain was coming from. A soft hand closed around my forearm, causing me to open my eyes fully. Anna stood at my bedside and Natasha sat on the end of the bed, both gazing at me with tender looks. I rubbed at my head, glancing around the room. It looked like we were in the med bay back at the compound. “What happened.” I managed to get out.

“Someone warned Tara you were coming.”

I hummed, coughing shortly after. Anna moved a cup of water with a straw toward my lips. I gulped down as much of the liquid as I could. “Yeah, she knew who I was, I don’t know about what else though. We were trying to get our intel from the hotel but then there was a car and…” I moved up right quickly.

“Pietro! Where is he? Is he alright?” I tried to pull at the chords attached to me, but Nat stopped me.

“He’s fine, Nads, worried about you but fine. He said something about a fruit doughnut or something.”

“Plum dumplings.” I muttered, settling back into the pillows behind me.

Anna and Natasha shared a look before turning back to me. “Right, well, you did a good job, we’ve got what we need.”

“The intel, it was in the hotel room, someone needs to go get it.”

“We already did, don’t worry, luckily only we knew where you two were staying, Maria Hill went and cleared the hotel as soon as we got the call that you were injured. We recovered everything.”

I sighed in relief at Natasha’s words. “One of the guys who tried to attack us in Amsterdam, he was Hydra.” Both the women beside me sighed.

Anna rubbed a hand over her face. “I should’ve known they’d be involved. They’re probably one of the potential buyers.” She sat beside me once more, reaching into her bag and pulling out a little brown plastic pot, chocolate pudding. My spirits lifted instantly. I grabbed the container from her and tore the lid off, digging in ravenously. “Hmm, I suspected even a nasty concussion wouldn’t stop you from devouring that.”

“You really are a saint!” I spoke around a mouth full of the chocolate delicacy.

Nat snorted, watching me intently. “Those things are so gross, but I love you and I’m really glad that you’re okay, so I won’t judge.”

“These are the nectar of the gods, and they just give them out for free in hospitals. Insanity.” Both Anna and Natasha laughed at me, but I ignored their teasing, cleaning the pot completely. When it was finished, I set it aside, sighing contentedly. “So, what do we do now?”

“You do nothing. We’ll handle this, all you need to focus on is resting.” Anna said.

I shook my head, sitting upright. “What? No, I’m fine!” Before either of them could argue I continued. “I know I always say that, but I really am this time, it was just a concussion. It hurts a little still, but I’ll be good to go by tomorrow. You can’t change my mine I’m seeing this mission through.”

“You’re actually admitting to being in pain?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, whatever. I’m really okay, let me finish this.”

They very reluctantly agreed, only after checking approximately a hundred times with the doctor to make sure I was actually okay. I agreed to spend the day resting and recuperating and that sealed the deal for me. Tara was heading to Morrocco to finalize her sale and hand over what Tony had referred to as the backdoor to the internet. Nat and I would fly out late tonight to stop the sale and hand ser over to the authorities. Each of the Avengers had been to see me after I was released from the medical wing, Cap and Sam had caught me on my way back to my room, Vision had walked through my wall to say he was happy that I was recovering, chilling really. Tony had brought me some food earlier as well, giving me some story about how he’d accidentally made too much when he was preparing his lunch, as if he normally cooks for himself anyway. I’d let him get away with his lies, scoffing the food down the second he left. After I’d eaten and had painkillers all but forced down my throat by Anna, I made my way to Pietro’s room. Wanda was leaving just as I arrived at the door.

“Oh sorry… I just…” I shook my head at my ridiculous stuttering. A kind smile spread across her lips.

“You look okay.” She shut her eyes tightly, her smile turning sheepish. “What I mean to say is that you look like you’re feeling better, I’m glad.”

I nodded at her. “I figured.” It wasn’t mean, wasn’t cold or angry like I had always been with her before this moment. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about her, but she hadn’t been exactly wicked and terrible in the months she’d been here. In fact, after our little tiff, she’d stayed away from me like I asked. She’d respected me, and I appreciated that, so in return I could be nice. Even if it felt strange.

“He really is a stubborn ass sometimes, I’m sure you know that by now.” She spoke up, gesturing toward the door behind her. “He’s so worries, hasn’t stopped asking about you… but he’s too pigheaded to be up front about it.”

“Is he okay?”

Her smile brightened. “He’s fine, a little banged up but still just as annoying.”

A laugh filled the air between us and with some shock I realized it was me. Despite myself, and despite our tenuous relationship I’d laughed at what she said. I swallowed the laughter quickly, glancing at her and offering a tight-lipped smile. “Do you mind if I…” I gestured toward the door. She moved instantly out of the way nodding fervently. “Just to check he’s still alive and update him on the mission, that’s all.” Wanda positively beamed at me.

“Of course.” With that she turned and wandered off down the hallway.

The door felt daunting as I stared it down, I wasn’t sure what to say, things were pretty complicated between us right now. Nonetheless I knocked, resting my head against the surface as I awaited a reply. “Come in.” He called soon after.

He sat more upright the second I entered, pushing himself to sit straighter before me. His leg was in a bandage and surrounded by some sort of non-enclosed cast, I was assuming it was just for the three days or so it would take his enhancement to heal him. “Hi.” I murmured, stopping by the end of his bed.

“Hi.”

“How are you doing?” I asked.

He scanned my body. “Fine. You?”

“Fine.” He nodded at my words, falling silent once more. I fiddled with my fingers, glancing around the room for something to look at that wasn’t him. It was then that I realized I’d never actually been in here before, it wasn’t what I expected. Dark grey and blue furniture as well as a few bits and pieces lying around, a soccer ball in the corner, some books strewn across his nightstand and a line of sneakers peeking out from the open door to his closet. “Agent Hill recovered our intel from the hotel, whoever sold us out didn’t have all the details apparently, so at least there’s that.”

He nodded. “Good. That’s good.”

“It is.”

He looked down at his lap. “So, what now? It’s over?”

“Well, she’s still planning to sell her files so I’m going after her to stop that from happening.”

“Okay so what we wait a few days for me to heal then we’ll go finish this?”

 I shook my head at him, confusion no doubt evident on my face. “No, you should just rest, let your body recover, Nat will come with me to Morrocco to stop Janssen.” The room turned glacial in an instant, or perhaps it was just the icy glare Pietro set me with.

“It’s just a few days, probably less, I heal fast.”

“Pietro you said it yourself, you don’t heal that fast. In a few days Hydra could have those files, I won’t let that happen.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my head, the headache beginning to set in again. “It’s not a big deal, you’re hurt right now, Nat and I can finish this off while you heal up.”

 “Why does it not surprise me that you’d cut me out of the mission the first chance you get?”

His words were like a punch to the gut. I took a step back almost as if I’d been physically wounded by them. “That’s not what I’m doing… I’m not cutting you out of the mission, you have a broken leg, there’s nothing you can do like this.” He scoffed at me, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. I furrowed my eyebrows at him. My eyes were stinging, and I couldn’t stand it. “That’s really what you think of me? That I’m a heartless monster who doesn’t give a shit about you? That I’m more worried about cutting you out of a mission than stopping a national security threat? You think that I don’t care that you got seriously hurt? Fine. Think whatever you want, Pietro. I have to go.”  His face changed instantly at my words.

His voice stopped me as I turned to leave. “No wait, Nadia. I’m sorry, please wait!” I closed my eyes for a moment before turning back to face him with a raised eyebrow. All of the emotions that had been missing from his in that past week were written plain as day across his face. His eyebrows sagged slightly, guilt and hurt present on his features in equal measure. “I just don’t know what is going on – we kiss, and you don’t want to talk about it or acknowledge that anything happened but then you look at me the way you do and you bring me Sokovian desserts to make me feel better and listen to me even when you act like you don’t care and I just don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what?”

“I don’t get what is happening here… between us.”

Running a hand through my hair didn’t soothe me as much as I’d hoped it would. “I agreed to be your friend, Pietro, what more do you want?!”

“I never asked for that!”

A scoff fell from my lips as I crossed my arms over my chest. “Oh, you didn’t ask me to be your friend. Didn’t beg me to be nice to you?”

“No-” He ran a hand through his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh. “That’s not what I meant, I wanted to be your friend but that isn’t all I wanted to be.”

“What are you talking about?”

He shook his head, looking at me the same way he had in the hotel hallway the other night. “I think you know, Nadia.” My heart was pounding against my sternum, so fast I was sure that I was going into cardiac arrest. “It wasn’t a heat of the moment decision for me; it wasn’t whatever you are telling yourself it was. I kissed you because I wanted to.” He swallowed heavily. The look in his eyes made my cheeks burn. “I want to… all of the time.” He continued while I remained silent. “I was cruel to you in Amsterdam and I’m so sorry, I just… it’s really hard to be around you when all I can think about is how badly I want you to tell me you feel the way I do.”

I shook my head at him, looking down at my feet. My eyes were stinging again, and I didn’t know why. I opened my mouth to respond but before I could a familiar voice called out to me.

“Nads, we need to prep before we leave, you ready?” Natasha appeared in Pietro’s doorway, completely oblivious to what he’d just revealed to me.

…

Sweat beaded on my forehead the second I stepped off the plane in Marrakech. The heat here was dry and a shock to my system, yet it was the furthest thing from my mind right now. It had all gone rather quickly, the period between Pietro telling me… what he’d told me and getting on the plane. I hadn’t even had time to formulate a proper response beyond a brief goodbye.

The sale of the Tara’s hard drive was taking place tonight at 6pm in a room at one of the most exclusive hotels in Morocco. We began getting ready as soon as we got to the hotel, hiding weapons on ourselves and testing the equipment. This was supposed to be a simple task, though after the last two missions I wasn’t holding my breath. Anything could happen, I had to be ready for that and I was… Mostly, though, I knew there was a part of me that was distracted, a part of me that was still in New York, standing in Pietro’s room with him.

I want to.

All of the time.

I’d tried to shake it off but the sensation that lived in my stomach seemed unwilling to dissipate. Frustratingly, this feeling didn’t seem content to be yet another item on my growing list of things I could simply ignore. It clawed at me, sung to me, pleaded with me, demanded to be felt by me.

It was that distraction that had allowed them to get the jump on me. The first face I saw was a familiar one, the man from Amsterdam with the Hydra tattoo. I blocked his first hit and the second but the third landed. My body doubled over unwittingly, the moment the impact rippled through my body I knew that there would be a nasty purple bruise where he’d hit. A glance at the brass band over his knuckles explained the extent of the pain. I persevered, throwing expert punches and maneuvering around his hits until I began to feel a little woozy and my vision became blurry. The strange thing about getting injected with things in the heat of a fight is that the adrenaline tends to cover the initial sting of the needle. My hand slapped against the side of my neck entirely too late, each movement so much slower now. Somewhere, someone was shouting my name, but I was out cold before I could process much else.

My body was jostled slightly, prompting me to open my eyes. It was dark and cold here. My vision was still slightly blurred, and the muscles I could feel were like jelly. I thought I might have been in the back of a car, the boot. Consciousness came and went and when I awoke again, I was in a hot, damp room. It took me several moments to realize I was standing, well not really, I was being held up by ropes around my wrists, but the feeling had only just begun to fully set back into my limbs. The rope chaffed my wrists, rubbing them raw.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” A familiar voice spoke, waking me up slightly more. Tara stood before me, momentarily appearing as a double. I closed my eyes tightly for a moment. When I reopened them, things were a little clearer, the room I was in was bare, stone walls, a single chair, Tara, and me.

“You know I actually, didn’t think you were that bad at first. I’m beginning to re-evaluate though.”

The woman before me laughed heartily, taking a step toward me. “Guessing friendship is off the table then huh?”

“What the fuck do you even want?”

“Well, it’s not really about what I want, dear Nadia.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Let me guess, it’s what Hydra wants, customer satisfaction is really that important to you?”

“You still don’t get it do you?”

The two men from the café entered the room. I was beginning to. A humorless laugh left me. “For fucks sake, you’re Hydra.”

A deranged smile spread across her lips. “Bravo, finally we are on the same page! I do hope you aren’t too cross with me about all this pretense, it was all a means to an end you see. I hold up my end of the bargain, deliver you on a silver platter, they protect me while I complete the sale. Plus, if Hydra has you it gets you off my case.”

I wasn’t so sure I understood now, wasn’t sure I really wanted to. What did Hydra want from me?

“Where is Natasha?” I asked, ignoring her previous words. Her smile brightened as she placed two small objects on the chair she had previously been seated in, our comms. I yanked on my binds, glowering at Tara. “This really isn’t the right decision, Janssen. I can assure you Hydra is not the winning team you think it is.”

She merely turned her back, addressing the two men now. “Sie gehört ganz dir.”

She’s all yours.

I yanked on the binds again, setting the tattooed man with a glare as he began to approach me. He had buzzed off hair that appeared to have been blonde and a long scar from his forehead down across his left eye. The brass knuckles were still situated over his fingers as he stared me down, a coldness in his gaze that almost rivalled my own.  The other man leaned against the wall by the door, locking it after Tara exited. It remained like this for a long while, buzzcut just standing there staring, doorman watching from a distance. “Jesus Christ, are we going to stand here all day or are you going to torture me?”

The metal met my ribs once, twice, three times. I coughed from the impact, the end cutting off into a laugh. “Who taught you to punch? A 6-year-old?” He hit me again and again, I laughed in his face. I learned quickly that the more I ridiculed him the worse the beating got, not that I’d expected different. Even with his particularly hard punches that winded me and bruised my ribs it was still not the worst I’d endured. The next time I got lippy the hit was to my face. Minutes passed, or maybe they were hours. Occasionally buzzcut would let up, taking a break for his own benefit I assumed.

Blood dripped from my lips as my head hung between my shoulders. “Most of the hits had been to my stomach and sides, though I was sure I had a bruise across my cheek and likely a split lip.

“Remind me what the point of this is.” I managed to get out. “Are you trying to get information or something? Because usually step one is asking a question.”

Finally, a response came from the doorman, first a laugh, then words. “We don’t want information from you, Nadia. Well, we do, but that’s not what this is about.” He grabbed ahold of my chin and yanked my head up to face him. He had dark hair and features but was so pale he appeared sickly. “We want to recruit you.” A thick German accent underpinned each of his words.

“Oh okay, so this is just a welcome ceremony or something?” I spat my blood at his feet. “Just showing me what I’m definitely not missing?”

He narrowed his eyes. “No, no, this is merely a test, we just wanted to make sure you were as we remembered.”

I raised a single eyebrow. “Oh, that makes perfect sense. So, the test was a few shitty punches from this idiot? Hydra really has gone soft.”

He smiled at me. “Of course not.” My arms were untied, and I was strapped to the chair in the corner. It was around the time the chair was tilted back and a towel was placed over my face that I clued on.

“Oh, for fucks s-” I was cut off by water being poured over me I clenched my fists and attempted to remain calm, steeling my every nerve against the sensation of drowning. It burned and my lungs felt like they were going to burst, it was just as shitty as I remember it being. I tightened my fists as it became more and more unbearable, and the water kept coming.

Finally, there was a reprieve as the towel was removed from my face. I coughed and gasped for air; every fiber of my body strung tightly as I struggled to get the air in. “Reconsidered the offer yet?”

“You made me an offer?”

The towel was replaced, and the water returned. The pattern would continue for well over an hour, a short reprieve upon which the man checked in with me. Eventually he gave it a rest indefinitely, dropping the towel but keeping me strapped to the chair. The water returned soon after though, ice water being dunked over my head. Just like old times. My body was tensed almost painfully, the cold seeping into each of my nerve endings and sending a deep shiver down my spine.

The man grabbed me by the back of the hair, forcing me to look at him. “Join us.”

My body was shivering violently and the slither of light from the window was now gone, prompting me to believe it was nighttime. “No thanks.”

He shook his head at me. “It ends whenever you want it to.”

And just like that I was gone, a blink and I was in a different room, bound to a different chair with something strange on my face.

“It ends whenever you want it to.”

The man in the glassed scribbled on a clipboard, glancing at me occasionally.

“Tell me who you are.”

I felt my lips moving but I couldn’t hear the words that left them. The ballerinas were back, dancing across the screen before me, it was different this time. The music, the outfits. The girl had a feather crown around her head.

When my eyes opened, I was back in the torture room but buzzcut and doorman were long gone. In their place was Tara, sitting across from me. I swallowed heavily, allowing my head to fall back. Every part of my body ached. “Honestly, can’t a girl get a little piece and quiet.”

“Joking until the bitter end, you really are impressive, Nadia.”

I rolled my eyes at her.

“Why are you even here? FOMO?”

She smirked at me. “Well, I just wanted to tell you the good news.” I didn’t dignify her with a response. “My buyer has finally arrived in Morrocco, how fun? I’ve just sent the boys to go begin the meeting.” This was such bullshit, last time I ever fucking help MI6. “Honestly, whatever intel was being fed to you and Natasha was really shitty.”

“Fuck you.” I muttered.

She sighed exasperatedly. “Well, that’s really all I had to say, anyway best be off.” She stood, waving at me tauntingly.

Before she was out of reached, I kicked out and caught her leg with mine, tripped her and using the momentum to kick back of the chair hard, the wood shattering as it hit the concrete ground. I yanked my arms upward, wooden side handing from my binds. Ignoring the immense agony I swung on Tara, easily landing hit after hit. “I told you it was a bad decision.” I said, dragging her to the ground and punching her again.

The sharp, burning pain in my abdomen had me hesitating, Tara and I both looked down, the black and red handle of the screwdriver peeking out from within my body. “Holy shit…” Her mouth fell open. “I’ve never stabbed anyone before. I don’t know why I did that I’m so sorry.” She yanked the object from me causing me to cry out.

“No! You fucking idiot!” I wrapped my leg around hers quickly, sending her tumbling to the ground and punching her. The adrenaline pumping through my veins stopped me from feeling the pain. I knew I needed to make this quick, there was not going to be fight left in me for long. She slipped her hand free, pressing hard into my wounded side to disable me. I yelled as white-hot agony seared through me, falling to beside her. With gritted teeth, I pushed through the pain, grabbing her arm as she tried to escape and twisting it around behind her back pulling her back down so that her back was pressed to my chest. She thrashed as I wrapped my arms around her neck. The pain in my side was so extreme I could feel tears streaming down my cheek, I put further pressure on her carotid artery tightening my legs around her as I felt her begin to fall unconscious. When she went to sleep, I double checked for a pulse, making sure she’d be okay. When I found it I shoved her from me, laying back and letting out a few painful breaths. Finally, I managed to push myself up, grabbing Tara’s arms and dragging her over to the pillar in the corner. The rope I’d been tied with was still laying on the ground for me to restrain her with. When I was sure she wasn’t escaping I threw the file down on her lap and stole the watch from her wrist.

Blood covered my hands, leaving stains on everything I touched. The fabric of my shirt clung to me as a patch of red appeared. Looking down at the time on Tara’s watch, I realized it was 3:45pm, I’d been bleeding freely for at least 3 minutes already. I let my hand fall to my abdomen, grazing over the wound, closing my eyes I thought hard to remember the internal anatomy in an attempt to decipher what she may have hit. I didn’t think the bleeding was rapid enough to have been an artery or my spleen unless it was just a nick. The button up shirt I wore would have to be a good enough bandage for the time being, I slipped it from my shoulders before wrapping it tightly around my stomach. Things became a little blurry about the time I shoved the heavy metal door open to reveal the afternoon sky, there was a mild breeze blowing over the sweat that glistened over my skin.

I stumbled against the side of the car that I’d been brought here in. A bloody handprint was pressed into the light grey of the door. I looked at the watch again, 3:51. There were no keys in the ignition so I began searching the car as quickly as I could, sun visor, glove compartment, center console; nothing. Something gleaming from the floor of the passenger seat caught my attention, a phone. I grabbed it typing in the familiar number, Natasha wouldn’t have her phone so that isn’t the number I dialed.

“Hello.”

“Tony.” I ground out, putting the phone on speaker and navigating into maps.

“Nadia? Are you okay? Where the hell are you? We lost you on the map.”

“I’m fine, sending you some coordinates, it’s where I left Janssen unconscious. I stopped the sale, but you need to get someone out there to grab her. Hydra aren’t the buyers, they’re the sellers, that militia group Anna mentioned, that’s who is actually buying, they’re waiting back at the hotel for Tara, it’s only a matter of time before they come looking for her.”

When the coordinates went through, I began working on hotwiring the car, I needed to get to a hospital sooner rather than later. “It’s all good, Nat’s handing the buyers, but you don’t sound fine, where are you?”

“Just get someone to the coordinates.”

“Yeah, got it MI6 is on their way. What happened to you?”

I finally got the car going and stepped on it, the roads were blurring together as I travelled down them. “She stabbed me with a fucking screwdriver, I’ll be fine I’m going to the hospital now, just make sure they get Tara. Thank you, Tony.”

“Nadia, don’t you dare hang up!” I ended the call before he could continue.

That ringing I knew all too well filled my ears. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, steeling myself and pushing through the weariness. Passing out simply was not an option, I just needed to get to the hospital and everything would be fine. I could feel the strength slipping from me by the minute, but I held on tighter. This wasn’t happening, not like this.

Not when I never got to answer him. Pietro. I wasn’t even really sure what I was going to say to him, but I deserved the chance to say it just like he deserved a response. I was not going to die in this fucking car because of some stupid Hydra bullshit. Typical, even when I’m bleeding out that Sokovian dickhead was still heavy on my mind. I groaned out loud, narrowing my eyes on the road in an attempt to focus my blurry eyes.

It took opening my eyes to even realize that they’d been closed, my shirt was damp I wasn’t sure if it was sweat or blood, maybe both. The car had stopped and there were flashing lights all around, an unfamiliar voice spoke to me. “Miss, can you hear me?” I wanted to nod but I wasn’t sure if I had the energy. The flashing lights came and went, white rooms, needles, bandages, red hair.

“I’m so fucking sick of you seriously.” I heard a soft voice say.

I smiled weakly at Natasha as my eyes focused, a different hospital, the same friend, sister. “Please tell me we did it.”

She laughed tearily. “Yeah. We did it, Nads.”

…

I gave her hand a tight squeeze as we got off the plane.

“I’m fine.” Her glare almost set me alight. I just smiled.

The New York breeze wrapped around me, welcoming me in. Tony was the first person I saw off the plane, he pulled me into a tight hug. “Please don’t remove me limbs from my body, I’m just kind of glad you’re not dead.” I rolled my eyes, patting his back gently, body stiff, nonetheless. He took the bag from my hands wandering off further into the compound.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” My head whipped around at the familiar voice, lips upturning at the look of pure frustration and disbelief written across his features. Suddenly, Nat was nowhere to be found. Pietro took a few steps toward me. “Do you genuinely have a death wish?!” My smile widened. “Honestly, I do not know what your prob-” I yanked him to me, hands finding the sides of his face as our lips joined. Nothing had ever confused me so much but at the same time made so much sense. I didn’t really get it, but at that moment I really didn’t care. It felt just like it had on the balcony, as if each one of my nerves had become a livewire and everything was okay, comfort and chaos all at once but I wasn’t running this time. I leaned my forehead against his when I pulled away, swallowing heavily.

“You didn’t see that coming?” I murmured, breathless.

His lips curved up into a soft smile, eyes still closed.

#pietro maximoff #pietro marvel #pietro maximoff x ofc #pietro maximoff fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson smut #aaron taylor johnson x reader #atj smut #marvel avengers #marvel smut #avengers smut #pietro x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff smut

[moonfruito]

alright i'm back with more coherent thoughts about jay's "rebel's elegy" song ok so to preface if anyone does not know what an elegy is, it is a poem written about someone who has died!

now the "rebel" here is of course jay, lamenting the death of her sister. the contrast between the irreverent and uncaring connotations of "rebel" and the suggestion of eloquent melancholy in "elegy" is incredibly fitting for jay, because as much as she is a pirate fighting the navy, she is driven at her core by grief, and the lack of closure she has received for it. the song's title captures both her thoughtfulness and emotional capacity as well as her ability to stand up for the cause she believes in.

at the same time, i argue that the "rebel" in this situation can also be read as ava - it is her elegy. i think that this is an intentional double meaning. the song before this one is called "the navy's daughter". two daughters of the navy and two rebels. there is something deliberate about the reference to the daughter of the navy here in the singular form, because jay was of course not the only one, and to follow it with reference to jay's rebellion suggests to me that ava shares more than just being the navy's daughter with jay. this carries forward, i believe, in the song itself. now i really don't know how to analyse music because i truly know nothing about it, but i'm giving it my best shot.

the two main components of the song here are the piano and the accompanying violin/synth thing (?) in the background. i'm not really sure what instrument it is, but i can still interpret the effect of it. because the piano has a more solid sound and the... i'll call it violin? has a more airy sound, i interpret them to represent jay and ava respectively, as jay carries on in her journey in the earthly sense and ava in a spiritual sense, existing in the essence of other characters. the piano follows a pattern that sounds to me like steps being taken, with varying speeds and rises and falls, and the violin accompanies. the way that these instruments act as two halves in the song, consistently echoing and reflecting one another, rising and falling together, can be interpreted in a multitude of ways. the first and most obvious of these is that jay feels ava in everything she does, in every up and down, another being that jay is chasing answers about ava, or an image of her that she wants to live up to and make proud. the way the violin adds a sense of weight to every 'step' that the piano takes, as well, could reflect the weight of grief that jay feels in everything she does, and the pressure she feels to do right by her sister's memory. there are countless interpretations you could make, but the one i propose is that jay is following in ava's footsteps. every step she takes follows the ghost of one that ava took before her, and the parallels drawn between the two sisters here suggests the parallels in their stories. the spy for the pirates and the spy for the navy, the betrayal of their families in favour of their newfound pirate friends. they are walking the same path. there is something reassuring about this song, and a lot of that comes from the fact that the piano is not solitary. there is at all times a mirroring presence. it captures the feeling that someone has shared every high and low with you, maybe simply in spirit, or maybe because you do not walk a lonely road. maybe there are footprints in the ash of the war that tell you that you were not the trailblazer. maybe someone has been right where you are now. maybe you just wish they were here so you could ask them if you're doing it right.

#jrwi #just roll with it #jrwi riptide #my textpost #jay ferin #jrwi jay #jrwi ava #ava ferin

[ghostly-penumbra]

Happy (late) holidays, @everystarstorm! I was your secret gifter this year!

The Prompt: ALL ghosts need to honour the truce. Including those who don't know they're considered part ghost.

Could be DPxDC with Red Hood or could be with Valerie.

I decided it would be with both!

Warning: (Barely) mentioned drugs, there's a fight, lots of swearing. The Fentons' Christmas feud is mentioned, there is a small breakdown(?). But, as requested, it gets solved by the end! (So it's hurt/comfort overall). There is a scene that could be considered “suggestive” but that wasn’t my intention and this isn’t an explicit work. There is also references to dying.

Ao3

- - -

Valerie didn't hate living in Gotham. She just hated the smog, the villains, and how mean could be the people when you were just trying to go about your day.

It made life hard and fast-paced, with little breathing room between an academic crisis and a city-wide one.

What she really appreciated, though, was the lack of portals to Hell in her ex-boyfriend’s basement that constantly let out ghosts who greatly enjoyed wreaking havoc in her town. Her new city had its restless spirits, of course, but it wasn’t brimming with ambient ectoplasm enough to power up ghost royalty and Ancients, so she could easily deal with them by either helping them move along or make them.

(Her psycho-pomp side-job was not something she was Obsessed with, really, it’s just that she much preferred it when the dead didn’t mess with people trying to live their lives and had no way to defend themselves. That wasn’t fair.)

The downside of that was that she somehow managed to fall into a fake sense of security in Gotham, of all places. And so, when a convoy of half a dozen unmarked vans sped next to her as she left the library –they wouldn’t let her spend the night studying there in Christmas Eve, or the whole of Christmas day, either, the traitors–, followed by a ping from her Ghost Detector –which wasn’t a ghost sense, even if it was part of her suit, which was a part of her now, no matter what Danny said– and a man riding a motorcycle one-handed whilst he fired a gun with his other hand, she froze.

For a second, which was a small eternity on its own right, which many times meant the difference between living and dying. She froze, confused, wondering how the heck had a proper ghost –that had a high enough level of ectoplasm in itself as to be Detected by her suit– made it all the way to New Jersey? A natural portal, perhaps?

The very next second, by which point she could’ve died already, the Red Huntress sprang into action. Her suit covered her body like a second skin, lifting her from the round as her hover-board materialized and she began her chase.

“Stop right there, ectoplasmic scum!” She yelled at the ghost overshadowing what was probably some thug or crime lord, even. If her luck was really rotten, it probably was one of the more gun-oriented vigilantes.

The ghost turned the guy’s head towards her and quickly fired two shots at her hover-board. Valerie activated the suit’s intangibility with a thought and felt the bullets pass right through her unimpeded.

Annoyed, she growled under her breath, “You’ll regret that,” and pointed her wrist-gun at it; focused as she was on where it would be next, she didn’t wonder why it had used an actual, real gun rather than an ecto-beam.

The ecto-net flew from her wrist and Red Huntress hurried to secure down her end to her board, feeling it dip from the added weight as she fished the guy up from his bike, leaving it to careener off the road.

“Fucking shit! What the fuck is this?” Raged the ghost as it tried to cut the net with a hella-big knife. It probably had already figured phasing through it was not an option.

Well, neither was cutting it.

“Pff, don’t try it, big boy.” Red Huntress told it whilst she pulled up her GPS. “Skulker himself almost cried when none of his blades worked either.” She sing-sang in a mocking tone. That was a much cherished memory of hers.

After a moment of silence, the host spoke again, “I don’t even know who the fuck are you, but as soon as I’m outta here, I’ll fuck you up.”

Valerie rolled her eyes under her helmet, and set course to a dilapidated zone with many abandoned buildings that would serve to minimize potential collateral damage.

“That, you can try, ghost, once you release this… thug? Violent vigilante?” Red Huntress shrugged. Too busy with school to keep up with the gothamite night life, she was lagging a lot in her knowledge of who was who in the Hero/Vigilante vs. Villain/Criminal scene.

“For your information, jerk, I prefer the term zombie, since I’m up and about in my own body.” The ghost said.

“That’s what you all say, ‘this is my bo-’ what are you doing?!”

The ghost had shot a grappling hook at a nearby water tower, securing it firmly, and having Red Huntress’ momentum make her lose her balance and be pulled back by force, dislodging the net from where Valerie had clipped it to her board, and both of them tumbled down the couple of metres left between the ground and them.

Red Huntress retracted her board back into her suit the moment it hit the ground, falling on her feet and running out what was left of her momentum to reduce the impact damage.

She turned around and didn’t hesitate in shooting an ecto-blast from her other wrist as she saw the ghost pointing its gun at her (low, aimed at her thigh to impede, not kill). His gun clattered to the ground and he cursed, holding his injured hand close to his chest whilst he reached for his belt with the other one.

Red Huntress didn’t give him a chance. She stretched her arm and the ecto-net –which the ghost hadn’t managed to completely take off yet, and he had just started fighting whilst still entangled– launched itself back towards her, sweeping the ghost from its feet.

“Fuck this thing!” It swore again, and Red Huntress quickly straddled its abdomen and pointed her ecto-gun under its chin.

“I don’t want to hurt whoever it is you’re overshadowing, but I will if I have to. So come out of that body and fight me like a real ghost if it’s a brawl what you want!”

The ghost growled at her, mindful of the wrist-ray. “I told you I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. I may have died but I am alive now, I’m not a ghost, and this is my body!” It lurched up and flipped them over, pinning Red Huntress’ wrists to the ground next to her head and away from him. “So you better leave me alone or we’re really gonna have a problem.” It reared back and then head-butted her, making their red helmets clash. “Are we clear?”

“Then tell me something, big boy,” Red Huntress spat venomously, “if you’re not a ghost possessing some random hunk, then why do ecto-weapons work on you? Shield up!”

A surge of red power lurched from Valerie’s suit and materialized around her, pushing the ghost away with a grunt of pain.

They stood up quickly, both taking fighting stances. Neither waited for the other one to find a good opening, and launched themselves at their adversary–

–and stopped dead in their tracks just as their fists were about to connect with the other one’s face.

“What are you doing to me?” The ghost demanded in a growl; his fear would have been well-hidden if not for the small cracking of his voice.

“I didn’t do shit, ghost.” She spat back. She moved back to an upright stance, but the moment she tried to attack her body froze again.

Red Huntress looked back at the ghost, who seemed to have reached the same conclusion as she, if his hand opening and closing as a claw whilst it hovered next to his holsters was a reliable sign.

“No violence, it seems.” It said, frustrated.

“That doesn’t sound like Gotham.” Red Huntress mumbled to herself but got a snort from the ghost all the same.

There was still tension running high between them, and Val was thinking fast on how to get the ghost out of that body and into her thermos without kicking its ass, and the ghost was obviously just as eager to resume their brawl.

Psychological warfare it would be.

Just as Valerie was about to say the meanest, most awful, confidence-shattering insult that would make Regina George proud and leave her former A-lister social group back home gaping at her… there was a shift in the air.

You know that feeling you get when you find out someone died? When it finally dawns on you that they are no more, will never be again, and nothing will change that.

Well, to that feeling, add the fact that said dead person is looking at you, and maybe you will get what they felt in that moment.

A bright, toxic green spiral appeared above the space between them, spreading out and opening up to a visage of floating purple islands and doors of all colours.

“By decree of the King of the Ghost Zone, any ecto-entity or spirit that breaks the [insert religious festivity here] will have to personally fight—” The glowing figure wrapped in royal regalia stopped as he took in what he was seeing, “-me. Uh, Red, what’s going on? Who’s your new friend?”

Valerie’s cheeks flushed with rage as Danny looked at her foe up and down with a furrowed brow.

“He’s not my friend! This ghost is overshadowing some hunk and it doesn’t want to let him go!” She said, pointing her finger at said ghost.

“I’ve already told you, I’m not a fucking ghost! This is my own fucking body and I’m not in the fucking mood to deal with this shit!”

“Then why does my ghost detector ping you as one?”

“Because your shit is broken, I don’t care!”

“And I should just take your word for it? You shot me!”

“And you fished me out of a car chase! Who the fuck does that?!”

“A ghost hunter to a ghost!”

“I’m getting fucking tired of you Ghost Buster shtick-”

“And I’m already freaking tired of you ‘not a ghost’ thing!”

“Oh, you can’t even swear.” The ghost mocked. “Shit fucking lame.”

“Get fucked, you ectoplasmic piece of shit.”

“Get out of my turf, Ghost Facer wannabe.”

“Shut up!”

Their mouths clamped shut against their will before they could throw any more vitriol at each other. They turned and found the young king hunched over on the floor, cradling his –now crown-less – head in his hands and with his eyes closed tight. His regalia was all gone, and instead he now wore a white hoodie fashioned after his regular suit. The hood was wide and covered a good half of his face, but his mouth still showed in a pained grimace.

“One year, that’s all I ask. One year without having to be in the middle of a stupid fight between believer and non-believer on fuckin’ Christmas. Is that too much to ask? I can’t lash out, I can’t stay out of it, am I just supposed to be unhappy?”

Val flinched, and her posture shifted so that she was turned towards Danny, ignoring the angry ghost next to her.

“Phantom?” She asked, approaching slowly, one step at a time. “Can I sit here?”

Phantom shrugged his shoulders and snorted. Not a ‘no’, so Valerie took a seat on the sidewalk with him, close enough to touch him if he allowed it.

The unknown ghost looked between one and the other, obviously confused, but Val wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. For one, she no longer could kick his ass, and most importantly, her friend needed her.

“Your parents are still holding onto their feud?” She asked gently.

“Pff, as if either of them was mature enough to accept defeat just for the sake of peace.” He spat, pulling his hoodie lower.

Valerie pursed her lips under her helmet. Danny’s relationship with his parents was good, especially since he revealed his half-ghost status to them. (Valerie’s acceptance had been… slower; to reconcile the fact that the sweet, shy boy she had dated and the annoying ghost she hunted were one and the same took her time, and now she regretted it had been so long); so for him to express himself like that about them… it must still be bad.

“I’m sorry.” She said, because even if it did nothing for him, she was. “I would’ve thought you would stay away for Christmas.”

“I wanted to, but there was an issue with a natural portal.” Danny explained to her, turning his head just the smallest bit toward her. His freckles glowed green just like his eyes, so she could see the bags under them. “I fixed it alright, just not in time to avoid their spat.”

Val put a hand on his shoulder and when he leaned into her touch she went for it and wrapped him in a one-armed hug.

“Well, you’re here and not there right now. Want me to show you around?” She offered him.

“What the absolute fuck is going on anymore?” Both Amity Parkers looked back up to the gothamite still standing there. “Who the fuck are you people?”

“Right, duty first.” Danny said and stood up, dusting off his clothes. “As the King of the Ghost Zone, it is my duty to make sure all ghosts, spirits, shadows, and ecto-entities abide by the Truce. Ecto-contamination makes you both ecto-entities.” He said as he gestured at Red Huntress with a hand, who took it to help herself up from the ground. “I assume you are dead-adjacent.” He asked in a tone too monotonous for such a question.

“… you could say that.” Was the clipped answer.

“There you have it. I’m not gonna delve into it right now, we can talk at length later, suffice to say, you count as an ecto-entity, so you are subject to the Truce, and that means no fighting in Christmas Day.”

“I have fought every Christmas ever since I was resurrected.” The dead-adjacent-but-apparently-not-a-ghost guy said.

“Fighting living, non-contaminated humans without a trace of ectoplasm in them. Which, and you’ll hate this, you won’t be able to do anymore, either.”

“What?!” The vigilante(?) roared, advancing menacingly just to stop one step in. “The fuck does that mean?!”

Phantom sighed and rubbed at his temples. “It means the Truce hadn’t taken effect on you because your ecto-signature is weak, and you hadn’t fought any other ecto-entity before, but now you have,” he pointed with his head at Red Huntress, who was paying as much attention at these news, “so now you can’t fight in this day anymore.”

“What about self-defence?” He asked quickly. Smart.

“That’s where I come in. I get the call, check out what’s up, and if a fight is needed, I have it.” He turned to his ex, sheepishly. “I just added that bit myself, y’know, to release some misplaced anger.”

“Understandable.” She said, patting him on the back. She turned to the vigilante. “I guess that means you’re not a ghost, after all.��

“As I kept saying.” He growled at her, but she ignored him.

“Well, there is nothing to it now.” She summoned her board and offered her ex a hand. “Let’s sight-see.”

Danny smiled, with his freckles shining bright green. “Yeah, okay.”

“So that’s it? You interrupt me in the middle of chasing down drug dealers, you tell me I’m some… pseudo ghost, you forbid me from fighting just ‘cause it’s fuckin’ Christmas day, and now you just leave.” He was clenching his fists hard, and Valerie could picture clearly the snarl on his face under the red helmet.

“It do be like that sometimes.” She told him unkindly, rolling her eyes. She wasn’t having an existential crisis over her nature, even if she had just as much right as him.

“We are going to have a talk, later.” Phantom told him, ignoring Red Huntress’ mean remark and sitting down on the board with his feet dangling. “There’s more stuff you need to know, and I would like you to go see my doctors for a full check-up.” The boy King said with an intense look. “And you’re welcome to join us, by the way.”

“Oh, I am?”

“He is?”

Danny sent a look at Valerie and she just inclined her head to convey her skepticism.

“Yes, you are.” He told the vigilante. “It’s part of the Truce; no hard feelings, regardless of circumstances or allegiances.”

“Pff, sure, I’ll think about it.” He said, turning his back, on them and walking away. He didn’t sound like he would think about it.

“Let’s go, ghostly boy.”

- - -

Hovering barely above Wayne Tower –but a considerable distance away anyways– Valerie and Danny sat watching the sunrise with a tray of jokerized fries between them (and several other wrappings stored away). Apparently, the batburger opened 24/7, every day of the year.

They saw the grapple land on the boar and hook itself to the conveniently placed anchor, making the board dip with the added weight.

They watched in unperturbed silence as the line retracted itself and bought along the vigilante they had found out to be Red Hood after a google search. Crime-Lord-slash-Vigilante, the Truce didn’t care.

“Took ya long enough.” Danny told him as he heaved himself up and then sat next to them.

“Ugh, shut up.” Red Hood answered, but there was barely any heat to his words. “Not much else to do today, apparently.” He glanced at the batburger bags that sat next to Red Huntress and asked, “Got any chili dogs on that?” The paper bag passed hands and soon Red Hood was rummaging through its contents. “Bingo.” He took off his helmet –under which he had a domino mask– and dug in.

Valerie just took another fry to her mouth.

“So,” the gothamite said after being handed a can of pop, “any plans for the day?” He was looking at them, and his face as much more expressive without the helmet; he was genuinely curious, probably wondering what would two vigilantes do on a day without fights and when barely any business was open.

“I was thinking of sneaking into the planetarium later at night.” Danny said. “As long as there’s no property damage, no one gets hurt, and I don’t have ill intentions, the Truce remains intact.” He explained.

“I had thought of going to Robinson Park and have a picnic or something.” Val commented. “Here’s to hoping Poison Ivy isn’t there today, though.”

“She’s in Arkham right now, don’t worry.” Red Hood told her. “The day is long, though; wanna get lost in the woods for a few hours?” He offered them. At both incredulous stared –though Red Huntress’ was hidden by her mask, which had retracted just enough to allow her to eat– he continued, “It’s a cool place to go for a hike if you know which parts to avoid, which I do. There’s also a good hidden bookstore and library that’s open all year ‘round and I have a card, if either of you cares, and there’s also a great Chinese place downtown, also.” He crumbled his trash in his hands and stood up to throw it with a baseball player’s skill at Wayne Tower, managing to make it enter an open window. “Suck it!”

Valerie and Danny looked at each other and shrugged.

“Sounds good to me.”

Val stood up, dusting off crumbs from her suit. “Alright then, big boy. Guide us to that secondary location in the middle of the woods.”

#Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Valerie Gray #Jason Peter Todd #Red Hood #guns tw #violence #ghost king danny #christmas truce #DC Comics #CrossOver #crossposted on ao3 #Danny Phantom Crossover #ghostly-scrypts #hurt/comfort #ask to tag #DPxDC

[bruggle]

Why are one-shots so easy for me to write? THESE PLOTS WILL NOT LEAVE ME ALONE.

Again, this is for @absolutely-normal-about-x 's fantastic au. I'm sorry if you're getting tired of it, I just love it so much.

Just a note, though... uh... this follows within the au of an au like St. Clarity.

Constellations

Phantom takes a moment to reflect

Words: 3k

"Cause like constellatons

A million years away

Every good intention

Every good intention

Is interpolation

The lines we drew in the array

Looking for the faces

Looking for the shapes

In the silence"

-Constellations, The Oh Hellos

  Nights were always the quietest for Phantom.

  Even with Fefnir’s insistent snoring, it was still quieter during the late hours of the evening than any other point on the Flutter. Not that Phantom really minded, of course. No, he quite liked the regular chaos of the house boat. Made all the ways he messed with the inhabitants easier to get away with, after all! But, there were times when he wanted to get away from it. To think. To reflect.

  Of course, he’d occasionally be joined by Volnutt or his father. Volnutt, ever eager to learn more about his older brother, and X being concerned that Phantom felt left out; middle child syndrome, he called it. Phantom wasn’t all that concerned, to be frank. He was, after all, used to being invisible. Both due to his more cunning nature in having been programed for spy work, as well as the… rather poor treatment he and his siblings had faced in Neo Arcadia. They were leaders; Guardians. Not meant to be treated as the children they imitated. It was… a welcomed change to go from that to this more peaceful existence.

  He thinks he’d rather die than face another human.

  Well, that’s not entirely true.

  While it had been a shock to him and his three older siblings, X revealing the fact that they had an older, human sister had been an… interesting one to say the least. But… if she had at least in part been raised by X, then surely she couldn’t be anywhere near as awful as the humans of Neo Arcadia, right? Phantom had had the passing thought of wanting to meet her. Just to see. He wouldn’t be holding his breath, of course. But it would be nice to know that not all of humanity was as callused and cruel as those of his time.

  (He supposed Ciel was an exception. But… well… he didn’t like to think about the reason she had felt the need to leave. -Copy X-)

  Regardless, it had been a further shock when it was revealed that passing thought wasn’t quite as impossible as Phantom had figured. Someway, somehow, Brook had wound up as a cyber elf. Not even X was quite sure how it happened. Perhaps it was the fact that she had been surrounded by the reploids of Maverick Hunter HQ when she had been killed in the explosions Wiel caused just before Omega had fallen the first time. Or maybe just the fact of how much time she had spent in the company of reploids in general; lightanium had a weird sort of radiation it emitted that wasn’t fully understood. Dr. Light himself had been considered the progenitor of cyber elves in X’s time, after all.

  Either way, she was here. The fact only being revealed thanks to Volnutt’s carelessness during a dig. Phantom’s baby brother had gotten himself stuck in the deep recesses of a ruin with a particularly strong connection cyberspace. Unfortunately, he had busted up his communication devices in the process of getting stuck. Brook, as a ‘Spirit’ (as the carbons called them; the knowledge of cyber elves being lost to time,) had led Volnutt out of the dig site. It had been a particularly strong surge of energy that had changed her from the glowing orbs carbons normally saw cyber elves as, into a more… humanoid shape. Volnutt had recognized her from the photo he had uncovered a month ago, causing him to tell X as soon as the youngest member of the family had made his way out of the ruins.

  X had immediately ran into the ruins in a bid to find her.

  (Phantom didn’t think such relief could exist. He knew without a doubt, that if it had been him or any of his siblings, X would do the same and more for them.) -Copy X hadn’t even blinked when he had learned of Phantom’s death.-

 He had, of course, returned with a glowing orb in tow. (Phantom had asked if he was certain this orb was her over the thousands of other elves hanging around the ruins; X had just said he knew. The younger carbon never challenged his father on it again.) At that point, X had worked tirelessly with Barrell on recreating a device that would allow carbons to see and communicate with cyber elves. Mush like humans had in Phantom’s time. He specifically recalled the headset Ciel had worn during her time as a scientist.

  -He’d be lying if he said he didn’t consider sabotaging it once or twice.-

  When they had finally finished it, X had spent hours talking with Brook. Heck, he had spent days. Barely sleeping, barely eating. Everyone had been worried. But eventually, X had emerged. He apologized for the scare, of course, but it had turned out that whatever it was that had caused Brook to become a cyber elf hadn’t… agreed with her. She had lost nearly all sense of identity and memory in the transition. It had taken literal centuries for her to remember as much as she had. And she was still fuzzy on certain details.

  X had then allowed all of them a turn with the headset to properly meet her. Phantom supposed she had been nice enough, but a part of him would have preferred to have passed on his turn. He didn’t care if it was wrong for him to think that way.

  But… she was technically his sister.

  That had to count for something.

  A light out of Phantom’s peripheral vision shook him out of his musings. A part of him was slightly annoyed at the interruption, but he quickly shoved it down. Brook settled down besides him, flashing brighter in order to convey her desire to talk. X had long since worked yet again with Barrell to both simplify as well as produce extra communication devises so that everyone could talk to Brook at all times. Now, rather than a bulky headset, they had simplified it into an earpiece with a visor extending from it.

  (“Hey, this looks like a scanner from Dragon Ball Z!” Fefnir had noted. “What’s Dragon Ball Z?” Volnutt had asked. Phantom didn’t think his older brother would ever forgive the blue clad carbon for that.)

  X and Volnutt practically had their glued to their face; X being the dutiful father that he is, and Volnutt being his curious self. Wanting to know everything he possibly could about his newest, oldest sibling. Phantom kept his off nearly all the time. If anybody noticed, they never said anything.

  -Harpuia knew. He always knows.-

  In any case, when the insistent flashing didn’t cease, Phantom finally, begrudgingly, put on his device. -He hesitated switching on, though.-

  “Do you know any of the constellations?” Brook quietly asked when he turned to her. He was… surprised by such a simple question. The purple clad carbon had figured there’d be an interrogation.

  “…No,” Phantom answered just as quietly. “They never thought it worth teaching us. Couldn’t really see the stars anyways."

 “’They’?” Brook asked.

  “…Neo Arcadia’s researchers,” he hesitantly explained. “They got to decide what was worth us knowing and what wasn’t. Couldn’t even sneak around them.” He couldn’t even sneak around them. They had placed inhibitors on himself and his siblings that didn’t allow them access to the archives without the presence of an approved archivist. And they always made sure none of the more sympathetic ones were approved. Brook made a sort of humming sound. -Did she agree with them?-

  “Would you like to?” she asked. Phantom turned to her, surprised. -Not that he’d show it.- “…I guess,” he said. Please. Brook gave him a small smile, gently floating closer to his face. (She was still the same size as her orb form; they were far away from any sort of cybernetic connection, after all.) “You see that cluster of stars there?” she asked, pointing to a specific part of the sky. “The one that looks like a weird rectangle?” It took Phantom a minute, but he eventually found the stars she was talking about. It did look like a weird rectangle. He nodded. “Okay, now that bottom corner,” she continued, pointing to one of the stars. “Do you see the trail of stars that look like an obtuse angle?” These were a little trickier to find, as Phantom wasn’t quite sure which corner she ha been talking about; but when he did, it was pretty obvious. He nodded again. “That is the Big Dipper,” Brook explained. “It’s a part of a bigger constellation, Ursa Major, but I think some of the stars for her died out. I can’t see them.”

   “Her?” Phantom asked. Brook nodded. “Yep,” she replied. “Her. Ursa Major, Mother Bear. Well, Major just means big, but that’s her role. All the constellations have a story associated with them.”

  “They do?” the dark haired carbon asked. “What’s hers?”

  Brook let out a small laugh. “How much do you know about Greek mythology?” she queried.

  “Just the gods and their roles,” Phantom muttered. Brook nodded. “That’s enough,” she said. “Maybe some other time we can go more in depth on those, if you want.” -He thinks he’d like that.-

  “Okay, so,” Brook continued. “A woman by the name of Calisto caught the attention of Zeus, who proceeded to do what he is most famous for.” Phantom pulled a face at that. “Which in turn, lead to his wife, Hera, finding out. In order to protect Calisto from Hera’s wrath, Zeus turned the woman into a bear. However, Hera waited until Calisto’s son, Arcus, was grown in order to lead him to the bear.

  He was a mighty hunter by that time, so he was determined to kill Calisto; not knowing she was his mother. In order to protect them both, Zeus turned Arcus into a bear as well; then flung them into the sky to keep them out of Hera’s reach. Thus, they became Ursa Major and Ursa Minor.”

  “Where’s Ursa Minor?” Phantom asked.

  “Okay, so the other bottom corner of the Big Dipper,” Brook pointed out; Phantom immediately zeroed in on the star she was talking about. “Now, look north from that point; you’ll see a big, bright star.” Phantom did as Brook instructed, eventually seeing the star she was pointing out. “That’s the North Star,” she explained. “It always points north; no matter what time of the year. It’s what people used to navigate by night before the invention of compasses.”

  “What does this have to do with Ursa Minor?” Phantom interrupted. -He already knew about the North Star. Only because it was useful.- Brook let out an awkward chuckle. “Sorry,” she sheepishly murmured. “It’s kind of my favorite. It’s also the tail tip of Ursa Minor.”

  Oh.

  “Okay, so if you look up from the North Star,” she continued. “You’ll see something that looks like a warped, smaller version of the Big Dipper.” Phantom followed her directions until he came across the stars she was talking about. “That’s Ursa Minor?” he asked.

  She nodded. “It’s also known as the Little Dipper.”

  Phantom let out a small hum. He could see what she meant by ‘warped’. The handle for the Little Dipper had a much stranger shape than the Big Dipper. “So they really didn’t let you learn anything on your own?’ Brook suddenly spoke up. “In Neo Arcadia, I mean.”

  “…No,” Phantom answered. -He didn’t want to talk about it.-

  “Man, that sucks,” Brook muttered, and Phantom had had enough.

  “Don’t act like you know,” he hissed. “You don’t know anything. You’ve been free your whole life!” Brook gave him a bewildered look. “I didn’t say I did,” she replied carefully.

  “You don’t have to,” Phantom snarled, glaring at her. “You act like a false sense of sympathy makes everything better! You all do! But you’ve never been through anything like this in your life! And you never would have!”

  Brook took in a deep breath, before letting it out in a sigh. -This was a mistake. He should take off the visor.- “What makes you think it’s false sympathy?” she asked.

  Phantom gave her an incredulous look. “You’ve never been through it,” he reiterated. “And never will.”

  Brook nodded. “That’s true,” she said. “But that’s not necessarily ‘false sympathy’. It’s empathy. Something all pack animals have, humans included.”

  “Fat lot of good that has done for reploids,” Phantom growled. The cyber elf gave a small shrug. “Fat lot of good it’s done for humanity,” she shot back. “I mean, you have to remember; humanity has had a long, long, long, history of cruelty. You weren’t the first.”

  “And that makes it any better?” Phantom snarked.

  “Not by a long shot,” Brook said. “But I don’t think it was humanity on it’s own. At my time, humanity and reploids were almost there. We were almost to what X wanted for both. But… I also remember all the support Weil got before everything went to shit. How else do you think he got his grubby hand’s on Zero’s original body? The stuff that went down at Neo Arcadia sounds a lot like what he wanted.

  “X… put too much faith into people. I get he was hurting, but I’m quite sure that a lot of the old coot’s supporters took advantage of his apathy.”

  “You’re making excuses,” Phantom accused.

  “Maybe,” Brook sighed. “Or maybe I’m just trying to figure out how it got so bad.”

  Phantom was silent for a minute. “You… said things were better before the Elf Wars?” he hesitantly asked. The cyber elf gave a small smile. “Yeah, I mean,” she started. “Mavericks were still a problem, so there was still a little trepidation, but… there were also a lot of people coming around to it. Did X ever tell you that I was almost adopted by a reploid sheriff?”

  “Sheriff?” asked Phantom. “What’s that?”

  Brook let out a laugh. “They’re like police, only voted in by an entire county rather than hired,” she explained. “Not just anyone can be sheriff. You have to be well liked, otherwise you lose your job. Tern had been sheriff of his county for nearly fifteen years. Lots of people respected him. And that was out in the middle of nowhere. Cities were usually a little more open to that sort of thing.”

  That… surprised Phantom. A reploid with a job that relied on them being liked and respected by their human peers? Unheard of. “Why should I believe you?” he asked.

  “I mean, you’re free to believe what you want,” she shrugged. “But there’s not much of a point for me to lie, either. The second you find out, you’d hate me even more. I’d rather not have that.”

  “…I don’t hate you,” Phantom whispered. Brook gave him a sympathetic look. “Maybe not,” she said. “But you resent what I am. Er, was. Sorry, this cyber elf business is still really weird to me.” Phantom gave a weak smile. -She was right.- “Why?” he asked. “Why did human’s do it?”

  “I don’t know,” Brook answered quietly. “But, one thing I do know is that even though humanity has had cruelty forever, we’ve also had love. Even small things. And it’s a lot more important to remember that.”

  Small things?

  Phantom recalled one of the archivists he had known. (One of the more sympathetic ones. He had liked her.) It had been a day or two after their activation; he had been begging her for more time in the archives. Something she could not allow. And yet… when he had returned to his quarters later that night, he had found a book, a blank notebook, and writing utensil on his charging station. The book had been about panthers; something definitely not on the approved list for he and his siblings. Phantom had spent the entire night carefully copying the book word for word within the blank sheets of paper. He had then carefully hidden the notebook and writing utensil where nobody else would ever possibly find them.

  The next morning, they had confiscated the book.

  He never saw the woman again.

  Was that what Brook was talking about?

  “Why?” Phantom asked. Brook looked over at him; he could tell she didn’t quite know what he was asking. "Why were you okay with reploids?”  

  “’Cuz there was love on both sides,” Brook said. “X… X did a lot for me. Even if I didn’t fully appreciate it at the time. I can’t thank him enough. And Axl was my brother; he was nothing but kind to me even when I was a little shit. But oh, we made X’s life a living hell for the fun of it.” Phantom let out a laugh at that. He’s heard about all the sorts of mischief his uncle Axl had gotten into. “Zero… I didn’t know him  very well. But I knew he cared. Even if he didn’t always show it. And then Om-“ Brook stopped herself.

  “Who?” Phantom asked.

  “It’s… nothing,” Brook hesitantly insisted. “Just… Look. I worked with reploids, lived with reploids, I cared about a lot of them. And I wasn’t alone in how I saw them. There were a lot of people both taken in by and raising reploids by my time. Maybe… maybe if Weil hadn’t been able to do half of what he did, things would have been better.”

  Maybe they would have. But they didn’t.

  “In any case,” the auburn haired elf continued. “Please, talk to X about it.”

  Phantom felt his spine straighten. “I’m fine,” he insisted. Brook snorted. “Yeah, I thought so too,” she argued. “But I promise, you’re not.”

  “What do you know?” the purple clad carbon snapped.

  “Dude, I was fourteen years old when my parents died,” Brook said with a raised brow. “And wound up overhearing that it happened almost immediately after my dad got home from dropping me off from school. You know what that does to someone? Especially when they had the chance to have done something different? I could have had him turn the car around when I realized I forgot my coat. I could have been there.

  “For a while, I thought I should have been there,” she murmured. “But… that’s called survivor’s guilt. And it’s a type of trauma. You have a type of trauma.”

  -He didn’t care.-

  “Why do you care?” Phantom muttered.

  “Because I’m your sister,” Brook replied simply. “And you shouldn’t be facing it alone. That does nothing but hurt the people who love you.”

 

 

 

  What could he say to that?

 

 

  What did he want to say to that?

 

 

 

  -He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to.-

  “Can you show me more constellations?” He asks instead, hoping to maybe distract her from those ridiculous notions.

  Brook gives a sigh, but slowly floats back to her position next to his head.

  “Alright,” she says. “Just please give it some thought?”

  -Maybe.-

#be quiet bruggle #legends reborn au #one shot #writing #Hidden Phantom centric #sorry this ended a little awkward #more of a character study than anything else

[twinkle-art]

now that you're done endwalker, could you talk a little bit more about andromeda? im curious about what she got up to/how she grew in all that time

YES I’D LOVE TO endwalker was BRUTAL to her. and yet she still pulled through with the indomitable human spirit

Previously On Final Fantasy XIV (Andromeda Elo Version) style recap:

as you can imagine, her obsessive belief that killing zenos would instantly reinstate her as a perfect hero circa. stormblood went… poorly. the brief period when people thought she killed him and not that he killed himself in front of her did make her feel a little crazy

and then she went to the first and that kind of put things in perspective. or more accurately, gave her a fresh new slate for her hero image and an excuse to ignore her previous flop era

there was her whole thing with emet-selch. anyways

on that note, the only real canon deviation i made to shb was that when she’s dying of light poisoning she does, in fact, run off to the tempest by herself with the intention of killing them both. this doesn’t pan out and instead she spends about a week hallucinating in emet-selch’s torment nexus until some very upset scions come get her. i’ve drawn a lot about this. i will likely continue to draw a lot about this

due to a cocktail of deep rooted mental issues and also the fact that he was truly just so miserable, andromeda doesn’t feel… great about putting emet-selch down. but instead of articulating this, because she’s convinced it’s not the “right” reaction, she bottles it up for about 3 patches

…until elidibus plays on her guilt and she receives azem’s crystal as a 1-2 punch. when y’shtola asks the wol after the fact if they’re okay i decided that she immediately bursts into tears

so now we arrive at the end times

there’s really no delicate way to say it but the garlemald arc was probably the worst thing she ever experienced. which is impressive, given her spring break amaurot excursion just happened. 

(i loved it though it might genuinely have my favorite writing in this whole game)

as i’m sure i don’t have to spell out, being treated as a foreign invader in the place she grew up was kind of a lot. she’s incredibly sentimental about her homeland- for as much as she hates it for how it rejected her (and the atrocities) and as much as she never for a second regretted her defection, her feelings towards garlemald are not dissimilar from the way someone might crave the recognition of a family that has only treated them poorly. 

in fact, her traitor’s title of viator was never actually official- zenos referred to her as such, but never made his knowledge of her garlean citizenship public because he dgaf. and yet, despite continuing to exclusively go by elo and hide her origins, she privately referred to herself as viator caecus without much thought, in an act of blinding self-unawareness. (but as her god i know the reason, and it’s that on some level she likes that being branded a Significant Traitor still means being recognized by her former home as Significant)

anyways, speaking of her family: they sure did live in the capital! andromeda is trying really, really hard to be brave and pragmatically carry out her duty as Eorzea’s Champion but like…her mommy lives here :(

in the first of many acts that mean the jig of her supposed eorzean origins is pretty much up, she starts asking everyone they encounter if they’re aware of the whereabouts of a woman named lucretia eir caecus (for ilsabard contingent business, obviously. not because she’s terrified her mom is dead.) without much luck. the twins simply do not have the heart to tell her that this is a hell of a long shot. 

(ONE person doesn’t know where she could be, but they do know of her and muse that the rumors must be true then- that this minor city bureaucrat really did have populares sympathies, if she’s a contact for the eorzeans. this comes as total news to andromeda.)

(also eventually, inevitably this get back around to their intelligence and thancred pulls her aside and grills her until he realizes what’s going on and pivots to Oh My God it’s fine that you miss your mom?! you should have come to us helping you look for her is the least we can do after everything. this is the second time a scion makes her burst into tears.)

putting a pin in that for now. in from the cold was . a lot. i don’t have much to say other than that it felt especially cruel to make her drag herself through the ruins of the city she was raised in while wearing the body of the kind of person who made her life hell. also in general that zenos knew what he was doing when he razed her hometown to the ground to get her attention. fucked up duty btw. her desire to kill him with a rock is back.

after tower of babil/the moon/zodiark i deviate from canon a little bit again- she lets the scions do their mare lamentorum side thing while she goes back to garlemald to see what’s going on. not feeling great about maybe causing the final days.

and then she reunites with her mom!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (<- part of her narrative that i had planned out as early as heavensward)

i want to draw this scene out in glorious detail but the long and short of it is that lucretia- who lest we forget, knows her way around a gunblade despite living as some military man’s obedient little wife for 25 years- had actually started trailing the ilsabard contingent from a distance once rumors spread that the wol was with them.

see, despite this not being officially public knowledge, she figured out that this “andromeda elo” was her daughter a long, long time ago, and it kind of snapped her out of the two-decade defeatist trance she put herself in for survival. (which is when she got involved in all manner of clandestine anti-state activities- she was rather dangerously close to getting in extremely serious trouble when civil war broke out and everyone kind of stopped caring) 

so she followed them from a distance, falsely assuming that the daughter who ran away wouldn’t want to see her until finally getting caught and dragged in there

also she killed her husband in self-defense. allegedly. he was totally tempered i promise. he had it coming tho.

ANYWAYSSS that’s the chunk of edw i have the most detailed thoughts on. elpis was also incredibly harrowing due to um. her Whole Thing with emet-selch but tbh i haven’t fully digested the back half of the expansion yet because it is DENSE

(i do love it when two characters get one single transcendent moment when they're finally able to both understand each other though it makes me crazy)

two final beats that i think illustrate her mental state going into the finale:

when the final days descended, the number one thing that kept her from falling into despair was her reunion with her mother- while their relationship is far from magically fixed, the simple fact that she regained something she lost after realizing how precious it really was to her made her all the more ferocious about ensuring that she will never, ever give that up again

when zenos makes his final assertion that the two of them are the same, she rejects him- but this is because while it was once true, she has since outgrown that. she has outgrown him. and that’s why he loses.

...also she fucked drusilla at some point while learning reaper

#ffxiv #andromeda elo #THIS IS LONG. REALLY LONG but i added a bunch of pictures <3 #thank you for asking anon. i love my daughter i love to talk about her

[bittrlys]

The thing about TDP is that it is a fundamentally broken narrative and this makes it hard to take their moralizing seriously. They also burden their heroes with cowardly + hypocritical writing choices that do them or the narrative no favours (Ezran wants to preserve life until he doesn't; Rayla lost her hand but don't worry actually it's back; Callum is the first human to really want magic and luckily that one time he tried Dark magic* it backfired so horribly he won't do that again!)

They open up with a narrative about humans being forcibly exiled from the lands, failing to mention how widespread a problem their magic use was (not that that justifies it, but the way they abruptly introduce this stuff in supplementary material makes it seem like they realized humans were too sympathetic and needed to be brought down a peg) and thoroughly enshrining dragons + elves as charming little ethnic cleansers:

We don't see cackling Dark mages* fighting for conquest. We see normal people in tears as they're forcibly emigrated with what seems like only a small bag of their belongings. Charming! And interesting -- humans rarely take the position of the oppressed in fantasy.

You know how we watch alien movies and they always have aliens wanting to harvest out planet and it's OUR INDEPENDENCE DAY!!! so we strike back and throw off the yoke of potential oppression? That is about as close to humans-are-oppressed that we get in popular media, which otherwise enjoys humans as your relatable (white) protagonists, Average Joes who may not have super strength or magic or whatever, but possess a great spirit that allows them to hold their own, bringing about the "Age of Man", fulfilling our destiny as rightful inheritors and claimants of a world around us.

TDP said "Wow, check it out, humans are a conquered people who were forcibly exiled!" and you're like "Neat!" and then it slowly turns around and says "Isn't it crazy how humans represent an imperialist, white default and thus everything they do against the dragons + elves is the act of a colonizer?" And you go HUH?

What this show does is meta write. It establishes one thing in its lore, but then writes from an outside perspective that is influenced by our general understanding of humans-as-default that totally contradicts itself. It breaks its own narrative immediately and unless you interpret humans as colonizers and Xadians as innocent, nothing in this show makes sense.

Take my favourite bizarre, hypocritical parallel:

Dragon crosses border with ill intent. Does fly bys over a human town unrelated to the conflict to terrorize them. Someone fires what is effectively a warning shot (that would probably not seriously damage her in the first place.) Her response is to start incinerating people until she's forcibly stopped.

Viren crosses border with ill intent. Parks his army outside but walks in, alone and visibly not a threat, and they respond by grabbing him, stripping him, and trying to 'purify' him which may not leave all of him in tact. His (Aaravos's) response is to kill a few people, destroy the Sunforge, and leave.

The show's framing? Ezran rushes to the dragon's side, taking her side against evil humans that want to harvest/kill her. Her immediate 180 proves him right about "humans can fix this if they're just more accommodating." Returns later as an ally. Viren (+ Aaravos)? Evil Dark magic* while sympathetic characters look on in horror. Sunfire elves are forced out of their home tragically (imagine being forced out of your home!) and become allies to our heroes while Viren is our big bad. Even a half-hearted attempt to show the Sunfire elves as bigoted + aggressive (convenient for our black elves, but that's a whole other thing) is countered by the overall sympathetic treatment they receive.

So. Is crossing the border with ill intent an act of war worthy of being responded to with aggression or no? The only way this makes sense is if you think the response to Viren was justified and the response to the dragon was not, and that only makes sense if Viren is a colonizer who has no place in his people's ancestral lands. It's just bizarre!

Another example of the show writing based on our own preconceived notions that do not mesh with the actual narrative is how they rely on our feelings about environmentalism. Dragons/elves/Xadia = natural, good. Humans = industrial, unnatural, bad. Yet I know I'm not the only person wondering how many of these heroes are vegetarians (Rayla's people seem to be but other elves? Dragons?) and like, until they revealed (retconned) the Great Unicorn Massacre there was no indication that Dark magic* was non-sustainable. While obviously we shouldn't kill sentients the show cares less about sentience as they do about magical beings, and beyond that it hits us with classics like "Sure you can be veg and eat worms whatever who cares about gross ugly bugs" and "VIREN KILLED ANOTHER BEAUTIFUL BUTTERFLY :(" and Claudia kills a deer of all things and that's so tragic. Like? Hello? People eat meat? They kill animals for hide and fur? And this is not an industry because everything in this world is pre-industry!

At this point they need to establish all their heroes as vegetarians and show Viren enjoying a big, juicy steak. He deserves it.

(I mean good ol' Harrow had a hunting lodge with an animal head mounted in it but let's just ignore that. It was probably a birthday gift from Viren.)

Put it this way: If Dark mages* treated harvesting specimens as a small, controlled, industry, would that be okay? So long as they didn't hunt sentients and kept population levels stable, no biggie, right? Many reagents they want (feathers, snot, whatever) can be collected non-lethally or even traded for. Yet somehow I think the show would care to disagree, as it is obvious that Dark magic* is fundamentally evil, no matter how ethical your consumption may be.

I emphasize the show's preferential treatment for magical beings because every mistreatment the humans experience and the show ultimately expects us to agree with is because they are non-magical -- it wants us to think humans are naturally predisposed to evil the way other races are not. Sure they were mistreated for being non-magical and starved and suffered for it, but the unicorns were wrong to give them magic (as shown by how it backfires on them) and even with that humans preferred Dark magic* the hardest/easiest magic around. Trying to have magic they shouldn't is why Viren and Claudia are framed as villainous before they even do anything. Everything that makes them sympathetic is unrelated to their ambition.

The writers thus have to break their narrative in half to make Callum worthy of 'true' magic just because of what a nasty little corner they painted themselves into (assuming that this natural magical state will always be superior to anything a non-magical being can do) and so we understand that humans are second-class citizens who should not have ambition and accept their lot in life, and if they are good enough, fully submissive to the 'natural order' like Callum, then they may be granted true magic. As a treat. But that, frankly, does not uplift humans as a whole. Tying into what lazy, stupid worldbuilding it is for humans to not be capable of magic in the first place (are they aliens to this world or something??) if I were writing this show I would have it revealed that dragons did something to take magic from humans and it can be given back to them, which would entirely fit the lore, but never match the overall Xadia Good, Actually narrative they want us to believe in.

Ultimately, I will never get behind a narrative that wants me to root for Team Ethnic Cleansing and thinks that a race of people are inherently unworthy in some way. It's beyond twisted. But that's the problem with the show. Nothing in this series makes sense. Not its magic system, not its politics, and not its lore, and instead of trying to make something cohesive, they write from a biased perspective based on other narratives that are not their own and create never-ended dissonance in their story. It's bad writing, folks!

*I hate the term 'Dark magic' in basically everything and clearly even in this world there's an association of dark/black = evil. (And if you want to argue that the dark = evil association doesn't actually exist in this world and it's a neutral statement, then that's just the writers once again writing from our world's perspective that does not match their lore.) It's framing for the sake of framing and don't get me wrong, I get why people against it would use the term, but why TF do Viren and Claudia call it Dark magic anyways? 'Sacrificial magic' or 'human magic' or 'life magic' are all things that make sense and don't have the weirdly loaded connotations. "Jeez we were exiled from our homelands for practising this form of magic. It was called dark because it's so naturally evil. We do not consider ourselves evil, just doing what we can to empower ourselves + humanity. Obviously we will keep using the term Dark magic. Obviously." It's so lazy.

#tdp critical #* #meta #yes this is a repost #i caved and made a sideblog .... deleting the og post #bear with me people i'm going crazy over this show that i don't even like that much @_@