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starry-bi-sky · 27 days

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Childhood Friends Danny and Jason: Ch2 Remastered

-------------------------------------------------------------- late at night when the stars don't look quite right -------------------------------------------------------------- there's something burning in the empty room inside of my head fill it up with doubt let it in, let it spread

Jason nearly falls flat on his face when he sees the photo of Danny. He’s in a warehouse, finishing up with a gang selling drugs on his turf. The guys he’s got tied up are cursing up a storm at him, throwing every insult under the sun his way that he’s all heard before. His eyes drag over to them, and silently Jason adjusts his jacket to reveal the guns strapped to his thighs, his hand hovering over the handle of one.

They all fall silent, and Jason moves his hand away. His phone in his other hand, texting Oracle to alert the police. Jason hates that he has to; these guys will be out of their cells in a matter of months, and nothing will change.

But he’ll play nice.

And then his phone buzzes, and when Jason looks down he sees a banner from Tim. A message he planned on ignoring, but his eyes skim over the text on instinct, and suddenly the air is stolen right from his lungs, and his thumb is hitting the screen before he can really think it through.

[Hey Jason, your best friend just appeared in Gotham for the first time since your funeral.]

Impossible. He thinks, yanking his phone close to his nose, as if that will make it any less real or fake. Danny hasn’t been in Gotham in years, Jason checked. But then the image loads, and then he’s staring Danny Fenton in the face. And then he’s greedily tracing every minute, new detail he can find. The gang left half-forgotten in his mind.

Danny’s got an undercut, it looks self-done. It looks good. He looks taller. He’s got piercings in his ears, gold and jewels lining up the sides like a magpie’s find. He’s got an eyebrow piercing.

Something old, something new; Danny is smiling and it still looks just as Jason remembers it. Crooked, lopsided, warm like the sun and belying the mischief underneath it. He remembers to breathe in that moment, and the sound comes in sharp. Danny’s eyes are as blue as they’ve ever been.

(“I don’ get why books talk so much about peoples’ eyes.” Danny complains to him one day when he’s visiting the manor, his legs thrown over Jason’s back like an anchor tied to its ship. They’re sunk into the mattress of Jason’s bed, sunlight peering through the windows. “They’re just eyes! I don’t need t’know that they’re ‘as blue as the sky,’ or- or the ocean, or whatever blue thing in the world there is.”)

(Jason’s smile comes to him like breathing, and he twists around to lay on his back. His arms trap Danny’s legs to his stomach. “Pretty sure it’s jus’ for emphasis on how much they’re noticing the person’s face.”)

(Danny’s face scrunches up, and Jason’s smile splits into a grin, heart swelling three sizes on instinct. “I think it’s stupid, s’just some fuckin’ eyes.”)

(“Eyes are windows to the soul, Dan.” Jason retorts, barking out a laugh when Danny gives him a deadpan look. His hands creep for a pillow, one of the soft downy ones wrapped in silk, and he throws it at Danny’s face. “And besides, speak for yourself! Your eyes are the bluest thing I’ve ever seen.”)

But most importantly, Danny looks tired.

Hiding is something that comes free with the purchase of living in Gotham, and Danny’s good at hiding things, he always has, but Jason knows him like the palm of his hands. He looks tired, and Jason wants to reach through the screen and ask him why. There’s an age-worn look there, catching in the flint of his iris, where his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Jason gets the ETA from Oracle, then leaves as fast as his legs can carry him and his grappling hook can zip through the air. He needs to see Danny with his own eyes, to confirm himself that Danny was here, and that it wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him. Or that it was Tim playing a cruel joke on him — and if it was, he’ll have to rethink his whole killing thing.

Gotham’s air is warm and suffocating, but her winds bite at him as he soars through it.

It’s second nature for him to find the west end balcony, and Jason finds himself with his feet locked in place on the building beside it. Grappling hook in hand, and a balloon in his lungs, all swelled up and squishing the air out of him.

It’s just his luck —with whatever he has left— that Danny is there as well. In the same spot he’s always been, with a cigarette caught between his teeth. He’s stuck halfway, head tilting, eyes closed, with the shadows of Gotham on his back and the light of the gala at his front.

For a moment, for a fleeting, terrifying moment, Jason thinks Danny’s going to tilt himself back off the side.The thought has him blindly tilting himself forward with his heart in his throat. Hands reaching for his grappling hook, swinging down to drop down beside him.

Danny is staring at him before his feet even hit the ground, face nigh unreadable beyond the small, wary furrow of his brows. Danny’s never looked at him like that before, it feels like stumbling on the last step of the stairs.

Then, like fire to black powder something flashes and ignites in Danny’s eyes. Mouth curling, eyes burning, for a moment, just a moment, they’re kids again, getting into fights and turning soft hands punch-rough. Danny looks at Jason like he’s going to tear him to shreds.

Jason’s mouth runs dry like a desert in the summer, but his blood chills in fear cold in his veins. Why are you looking at me like that? His mouth opens, but his tongue is leaden in his throat, and no sound comes out. It’s me. Don’t you recognize me?

Danny yanks the cigarette from his mouth like it burns him, his free hand gripping onto the railing like it’s the tether to a leash, nails threatening to turn into talons. “Red Hood.” He says, voice low and timbre, smoke dripping from his lips like dragon’s breath.

Oh.

That’s right. Jason suffocates on his heart as it sinks and soars with relief. Danny doesn’t know it’s him. In his tunnel vision, he forgot that simple, easy fact. It’s not because it’s Jason that he’s angry. It still doesn’t explain, though, why Danny looks at him like he ought to sink his teeth into his throat and rip him open.

He’s half-distracted by that, and then distracted by the need to drink in the sight of Danny again. A photo is one thing; the real person is another, and with his fear subsiding, Jason rakes his eyes over his best friend and swallows him whole. His eyes are bluer in person, his memory and Tim’s photo doesn’t do them justice, and Danny inherited his dad’s height. He’s gotten so tall. They both have. They both used to be such scrawny kids.

So distracted is he, that he forgets to respond to Danny, to say anything. Not until Danny tries to dismiss himself, and Jason kickstarts into gear. White hot panic fills in his lungs, burning him up like magma. No, no, no, he’s moving without thinking, always when he’s with him, and he nearly latches onto Danny. Nearly wraps his hands around his arm to hold him in place. Don’t leave. You’re finally here; don’t go.

Danny stays, but he stares at Jason’s reaching hands like he’ll bite them off, stares at Jason with his eyes burning, watchful. Jason’s excuse is lousy and he knows it, but he wants, wants, wants to stay and figure out every new thing about Danny.

And he feels like he’s losing something. Time bleeds together beside him and Jason feels trapped behind a glass wall of his own making. Something old, something new. The distance of which Danny keeps him at is foreign to him. He hates it.

Tell me everything, he thinks, because he can’t find the words to say it. He hands Danny a cigarette instead, and hopes that it’s enough. Tell me everything and more, tell me what I’ve missed.

In the end, he still feels like he’s losing something, but he also feels like he’s missing something. Answers that are water, and that water is slipping through his fingers. Danny leaves him with more questions than answers; something that’s never happened before, and Jason watches him walk back inside with a spinning mind.

What do you mean you spoke to my ghost?

I told you that the Joker killed me?

Have I told you anything else? Have I already told you everything I’ve wanted to?

What happened while I was gone?

Is that why you’re scarred?

Because Jason isn’t blind, he’s never been. Not in Crime Alley, not as Robin, not now. And not when it comes to his best friend. He sees the silver lightning scars ripped jagged up Danny’s arm, sees that they disappear under his sleeves. He saw, faded as they were, invisible until the light hit right, as they spread like tree roots up his throat and across the side of his face.

Scars that Danny’s never had before. Scars he didn’t have when Jason was alive the first time. Scars he didn’t have the last time Jason saw him. Or — what he remembers to be the last time he saw him, because apparently he saw him as a ghost. He sees the curve of his ears and how they point more than a human’s should, he saw the glint of his canines, sharper than they should be; sharper than he remembers. Metaphorical fangs turned real.

Jason should’ve asked where he got them from, should’ve taken Danny by the front of his collar and stopped him from leaving. Who did this to you? He should have said, a fire burning in his chest and wrapping around his throat, pulling his voice into a snarl. He should have said, his guns weighing heavy on his sides; Who did it. I’ll take care of it. Just tell me who. Tell me everything.

Instead, something crawled into his mouth and died, and his tongue is glued to the roof of it. And he doesn’t say anything, because saying something means telling his best friend who he is. It means having to take off his helmet and mask. It means telling his best friend that he’s alive, that he has been. That despite being two halves of a whole, Jason spent five years letting him think he was dead.

He can’t tell him, not when he’s in too deep already. Not when Jason is so unrecognizable to who he used to be that if he told him, Danny would hate him.

And Danny is still grieving him. So plain as day mourning, still angry over his death. Angry enough that he wants the Joker dead, angry enough that he wants to hang the noose and kick the chair out himself.

Jason wishes he told him that he looks tired.

Instead he’s standing alone on the balcony, trying to get his thoughts in order as music blares muffled through the gold-light door. He’s left staring at the crushed cigarette laying on the ground, Gotham’s ambience at his back and a poem hanging in the air that he has no words for. It’s already there. Like stars on a painted ceiling.

And there are so many questions he needs answers for.

Like his ghost. His ghost.

What did Danny mean by his ghost?

Does he really want to kill the Joker himself? Was it just the grief talking? Jason knows — or thinks he knows — Danny like the palm of his hands. He’s been through everything with him, he’s seen him say something and then immediately follow through with it. He knows when he’s being serious, he knows when he’s not.

Danny wants to kill the Joker. Stealing is one thing; murder is another. And Danny wore a look on his face that looked like he meant it when he told Red Hood that he wanted to kill Joker. But saying and doing are two different things. Jason doesn’t know what to think.

Something old, something new. Danny is still the same, and yet he’s changed so much.

What did Danny mean by his ghost?

Jason doesn’t ever remember being a ghost. But Danny knows the Joker killed him. He knows how he killed him. Danny’s parents are ghost scientists, and Jason remembers the letter he got one day telling him about the portal they were building in the basement.

He remembers thinking about telling Bruce — this was something beyond the glowing green samples stored in the fridge, giving life to the food inside. This was beyond the weapons, the inventions they made that only saw the light of day when the Drs. Fenton brought them up to showcase them.

And he didn’t, because if he hadn’t told Bruce about everything before, he wasn’t going to start. He admits, it was part fear that Bruce might intervene and prevent him from seeing Danny that he didn’t.

Neither of them had expected it to work — but it sounds like it did.

(Jason has avoided Amity Park for a reason. He knows he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from going there if he didn’t. But now, he just might have to look into it. He’s missed too much.)

And Danny wants to kill the Joker, and Jason isn’t sure if he means it or not. Because the look on his face when he said it is oh-so familiar. It’s the one he wore when he needed Jason to distract the clerk while he snuck behind the counter to steal cigarettes from the shelves. It was the one he wore when an older kid cornered them near one of Gotham’s many alleys, threatening them over something Jason can no longer remember clearly.

(He remembers puffing himself up, rearing for a fight. Danny, with glass in his teeth and blood between his fingers, lands a square kick to the spot between the kid’s legs. His knees hit the ground, and Danny’s hand found Jason’s to drag them both out of there.)

It’s the look of a boy, Gotham-touched grime in his soul, soft fingers turned calloused and scarred, about to do something he’s not going to regret. It’s the look of a boy that has set his mind to something and is going to do it. Some might call it the eyes of a cornered animal, but Danny’s never been cornered, not when Jason’s been with him.

(But Jason hasn’t been with him. Not for the last five years. So can he really say it wasn’t the eyes of a cornered animal?...Yes.)

Jason gets off the balcony before he can be seen, and he shouldn’t, but he loiters. He should get back to patrol, the night is never over. Not in Gotham. But he stays, hidden atop the roof nearby.

—---------------

An hour later, Danny walks out the doors with a man Jason recognizes as Vlad Masters — another new mystery for him to uncover. The paparazzi have long since left. Gotham’s nights are dangerous and everyone knows that, not even the vultures would stick around for a scoop, not unless there was something worth seeing.

A black limousine pulls up beside them, and Masters walks around the back to reach the other side. He’s bristled like an angry cat. “I thought I told you not to embarrass me.” He hisses, eyes snake-narrowed.

Danny, for the most part, just looks unbothered, his hands shoved into his pockets without a care. But he narrows his eyes right back, an expression made of stone. “You have a pretty low bar for what you think is embarrassing.”

Masters just scowls, “I don’t understand you, I would have thought you’d spend the whole time mingling with the Waynes, badger.” He says. Danny ruffles at the nickname, lips curling into a snarl. Jason finds himself unconsciously mimicking him. “And yet, I find you sequestered away in the corner like a little fly on the wall. Were they not up to your standards?”

‘Sequestered’ Danny mouths mockingly, eyes burning like he was going to claw his hand down Masters’ face. Instead, his hands dig into his arms. “I did talk to them, that’s more than I can say for you. You couldn’t even keep Mister Wayne’s attention for more than a minute.”

Jason frowns, and Masters scoffs, puffing up like an owl with its ego bruised. “Regardless, I am not the one losing here. Or did you forget what you promised me?”

Jason’s frown deepens. Danny doesn’t promise anything. At least, he doesn’t promise with just anyone. He deals; he repays; he indebts. But he does not promise. Promises were power, with only one side benefiting. It was trust to promise someone something. Danny doesn’t trust easily, neither of them do.

Something that hasn’t changed. Danny rears up angrily, mouth twisting, teeth baring, snarling out a fury sound. A wire cut live and sparking. He grabs the door handle and yanks it open harshly. “I didn’t promise you anything, Vlad.” He hisses, Jason strains to hear him. “I offered and you agreed. Do not fucking twist my words.”

There it is. Jason should’ve known better, guilt string-plucking in his chest for his doubt. Danny doesn’t promise things; not to people like this Masters guy, at least.

Danny grabs something from the car and throws himself back. “Don’t wait up.” He snarls, a wild thing just as Jason is, and yanks on a red hoodie over his arms. It zips up, and hangs off him, smothering the vest and button-up beneath. “I’ll meet you back at the hotel.”

Then he slams the door shut, shoulders hunched and with a scowl carved into his face. They’re both made of broken glass; independence — disobedience — and rebellion cut into them from every broken beer bottle shattered on the streets.

(Jason makes a mental note to look into Vlad Masters — Danny’s never told him about him, so they must have met after he died. The man leaves a rot in Jason’s mouth, and there is a greed festering inside him that Jason knows has left him in decay.)

(He doesn’t like how close Masters acts with him, doesn’t like the affiliations between them both. Masters reminds him of Luthor and every other rich socialite with their hands in something dirty. He hates even more that Danny is making deals with him. What has he missed?)

Jason follows after Danny, partially concerned that Danny is wandering Gotham alone. Regardless of what he can do, Gotham is still dangerous. It is bone-rotting, lung-choking and unforgiving. Danny knows this, Jason knows he does. He’s partially curious to know just where he’s going, and whether or not it was important enough to visit in the dead of Gotham’s bloody nights.

Danny surprises him — slipping between alleyways, sticking close to the shadows. Someone taught him how to be stealthy — or, at least, refined what stealth Danny already had. More new things that Jason needs to learn. More things he will never get to know.

Who taught you that?

Just what, exactly, have I missed?

I want to know everything.

Five years is a long, long time to be away from someone. If a caterpillar can become a butterfly in two weeks, then what can five years do to a human? It’s a long time to change, to become something else entirely. Jason’s become someone new, and he thinks, so has Danny.

Dread pools in his ribs, into his lungs, and weighs heavy on his heartstrings. The urge to drop down in front of Danny, to grab him by the arms and ask him to tell him everything, returns with a vengeance. This is why he avoided Amity Park.

Will I still know you like I used to? Jason trails behind Danny from the rooftops, like a ghost. Do you still love the stars? Do you still take tea over coffee? Will you tell me, if I ask?

And if he doesn’t? If he doesn’t ask, like he isn’t right now?

If he doesn’t ask about his ghost — something that still boggles his mind, because it means the Fentons were right and that portal might have worked, and Danny found Jason’s ghost? If he doesn’t ask what his ghost told him, if he told him anything else? Did his ghost tell you that he was Robin, like he always wanted to?

He will just have to keep his questions to himself. He will just have to tuck them into a folder in his mind, and file it under all of his other regrets.

He feels like he’s Robin again; keeping secrets and hiding things from his best friend because it simply wasn’t safe enough for him to know. It’s maddening.

Why has nothing changed since he died? Why has nothing changed, now that he was alive?

—---------------

Danny leads him to the Gotham Cemetery. Jason freezes outside the gates. Oh, he thinks.

Oh.

He thinks back to what he thought earlier.

What could possibly be so important that he’d go to it in the dead of Gotham’s night? The cemetery. Of course. Something old, something new, something bittersweet sets over his tongue that he swallows down.

Jason forces himself to follow.

“Hey.” Danny says as Jason settles behind a tree, voice gentle in foreign familiarity. He’s standing at Jason’s grave, his hands shoved into his pockets. The light is low but it doesn’t stop Jason from seeing the starlight-soft look in Danny’s eyes and his half-tilted smile, the smile that Jason is more familiar with than the wary scowls. “Sorry I’m late.”

Guiltish misery wraps its hands around Jason’s lungs. Pin-prickingly, stabbing at his heartstrings, Jason’s mouth moves on its own; “It’s okay.” but no sound comes out. Danny doesn’t hear him, and neither does Jason himself.

Danny sits down before Jason’s tombstone, groaning low and tiredly as his legs fold beneath him. He’s older than Jason, and immediately his mind switches over to all the jokes he used to lob him with.

(“Need help crossing the street, old man?” Jason, eight years old, asks with a grin so wide and painful across his face; giggles in his chest. He hooks his elbow with Danny, and keeps him tight against his ribs. “You’ll need all the help you can get in your ancient age.”)

(“I’m not that old.” Danny says, glaring at him before they scurry across the street with the light still green. Traffic laws are a joke in Crime Alley, it’s like a game of frogger as the sound of honking horns and screeching tires follows their heels. “We’re six months apart!”)

(“Six months and four days, actually.” Jason corrects when they reach the other side, snickering as they race down the sidewalk. Drivers lean out their windows and curse them out as they get away, Danny dodges an empty soda can thrown at his head. “Can’t forget the four days.”)

“I would’ve come sooner.” Danny tells him, pulling him from child-fuzzy memories and back into reality. Jason peers around the tree to see him running a hand through his hair, head ducked down. His palm splaying against his neck. “Sorry I didn’t. I got scared.”

Scared? Jason blinks, he leans against the bark and bumps his helmet against the wood. The thunk is loud in his ears, but Danny makes no indication that he heard. Of what?

But Danny doesn’t say what, he drops his hand and glances off to the side. He sits like a man who isn’t quite sure what to do, his mouth pressed into a thin line, his eyes scrunched. Grief carves into the lines of his face like a sculptor carving into marble.

“I was gonna get you flowers on my way here.” Danny continues. His voice cracks, begins to wobble, and Jason sees Danny’s jaw tighten and his eyes close for a moment. When they open, there’s a wobbling sheen on his bottom lashes; tears threatening to bleed.

Danny flicks at the tears with the nail of his thumb, it does nothing. It just makes his breath hitch. “Um, but they- uh, didn’t have any open on the way here.” He says, giving Jason’s grave a tremulous smile. “Sorry, I’ll make sure to pick some up on my next visit.”

Next visit. Jason’s heart squeezes uncomfortably, before he reels at the words. Danny’s going to be visiting again, after five years of being out of Gotham? Next visit, why are you visiting again? Was this the reason he came to Bruce’s little charity ball with Vlad Masters? So that he could come visit Jason’s grave?

It couldn’t have been. There are other ways to get to Gotham that don’t require making deals with shady rich men. Danny’s smart, smarter than Danny himself gives him credit for. He’s brilliant. Why did he need Masters’ help to get him to Gotham?

There had to be another reason why.

God, there were so many questions that Jason wants the answers to. He’ll find them, one way or another.

But, he focuses in again. Danny is only here for the night. One night, and he doesn’t know when he’ll be back again. Jason wants to commit every detail of his best friend to memory before he leaves.

“You like zinnias, right?” Danny pets the grass at his side absently, and yes. Yes, Jason does, and Danny remembers. Even five years from his death, he remembers. Of course he does.

“Yeah, you do. You used to pick the petals up off the sidewalk from those uh, fuck — the vendors. The Victorian flower language too, I think. Got a book on that somewhere. I’ll get you red an’ yellow ones.”

Grief traps in Jason’s chest, and he barely tamps down the bitter laugh forcing itself out of the chokehold of his throat. You fucking sap, you big fuckin’ sap.

Red zinnias. Steadfast beating of the heart. The irony. It’s got double the meaning now, now that he’s alive. But Danny doesn’t know that, so the heart that’s beating could only belong to him. But even with Jason alive, he’s hiding. Between the both of them, the only one here with a beating heart is Danny.

(Between the two of them, the only heart here is one that's made between the two of them.)

Yellow zinnias. Daily remembrance. Of course. That doesn’t need any explanation, the writing is right there on the wall. Raised, so that even the blind may read it. It doesn’t need to be said what that means, Jason can hear it on the wind, in the grass, in the trees. His heart crumpling like a rag being twisted out to drain the dirty water soaking in it.

I miss you.

I’m right here. Is what Jason wants to say. It’s what he should say. He should step out from behind the tree; should speak up and say something. To announce his presence. To do something to let Danny know that he’s speaking to someone who is more than a ghost (who feels like one anyways) and a corpse in the ground.

Here I am. Here I am. HERE I AM.

His feet are gravebound to the dirt, his tongue cut out of his mouth and shoved into a jar. He feels, in some way, like he’s clawing out of his own grave again, but the dirt keeps falling and his arms are burning. His lungs are filled with more soil than air. He’s not getting out.

Shame burns cigarette smoke in the back of his throat, shriveling up what little remains of his tar-filled heart. It should be his lungs, and it’s got that too. His feet are grave-bound to the floor.

Danny’s begun to cry, much to Jason’s horror. It should be more incentive for Jason to step out. He doesn’t. His best friend sniffles and scrubs at his face, soaking tears into his hoodie’s sleeve. “I’m sorry for not visitin’ sooner,” he says, voice spiraling with grief, “I don’t have an excuse. I should’ve come sooner. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Don’t be, Jason thinks. Finds himself surprised by the truth of it. He should be upset. Five years and not a single visit. He abandoned him like everyone else. Except he didn’t.

He’s not upset, he can’t be. Not when Danny’s finally here. Not when he’s still crying over him five years after the fact. Not when he’s going to put flowers on his grave that means he thinks of him daily. Not when Danny knows who killed him and wants him dead.

Jason isn’t sure of what to think of that still. He wants Bruce to kill the Joker. More importantly he wants change in Gotham. He wants something to be done. He doesn’t know if Danny is being honest or not — and honesty doesn’t mean anything if someone doesn’t act on it.

Danny continues talking to his grave, his voice full with sorrow. He talks about the gala, about running into Bruce and talking to him again.

Jason listens in dutiful silence, soaking in Danny’s voice like a sponge. This is what he was expecting on the balcony; this easy conversation. Except it’s not a conversation, Danny is talking and not expecting a response. Jason feels like a stranger imposing on his own grave.He should slink away, let Danny have his peace on his own.

He refuses to move. He can’t bring himself to.

If he closes his eyes, he can pretend that he's sitting in front of him. He can pretend he’s thirteen again, with him and Danny crawled under the bed at the manor and trading all the stories they couldn’t fit in their letters. Danny tells him about another fight he had with Dash Baxter, eyes rolling but smug teeth flashing in a stifled smile. Then he tells him about something Sam and Tucker did; about one of Sam’s protests she led against the biology lab, and Tucker coding his PDA to play Doom. Easy, stupid middle schooler shit.

They’d sneak out to the balcony for their vices, Danny clutching a carton of cheap cigarettes in hand. Alfred always finds the ones Jason hides, so they usually share whenever Danny comes to visit. Jason tells him about Gotham Academy, about the people there and the classes. Prep school is another beast entirely, he likes seeing Danny’s reactions to the politics that goes on inside.

Or, further back, they’re eight again, climbing a rickety fire escape to the rooftop and hanging their feet over the edge to find Batman and Robin. Danny was in the lead before he left for Amity Park. Jason remembers it clearly; they’d spent all night outside on that rooftop.

Jason doesn’t close his eyes.

Jazz decided to change career goals; psychology’s become more of a hobby for her, and she’s going to go to med school instead. She’s thinking of doing an internship in Metropolis. Danny says he’s glad that it’s not Gotham, and when he told Jazz this, she laughed at him and told him that she was going to save that for later.

She’s Gotham-touched too, she knows it’s blood just as much as Danny does. She wants to help the people there, but knows what Gotham’s like. She knows what she can and cannot do. Determination doesn’t equate skill, it just means the willingness to learn.

Sam is staying in Amity Park and doing online classes for college, but Tucker got a full ride scholarship in software engineering. Danny’s thick with pride as he tells Jason’s headstone. Jason’s happy for him — they weren’t close, not like he and Danny were, but they were still friends.

Jason soaks it all in; tell him more. He wants to know everything.

"I don't know what I want to do." Danny says when he’s finally done talking about everyone else, his chin laying on his knees. “S’not like I can be an astronaut anymore, but there’s not anything I can see myself doing.”

The corner of his mouth coils, sardonic. “I’ve had five years to come up with somethin’ new, and I’ve come up with nothin’ at all.” He huffs. It’s a rough, bitter sound. Gotham has been steadily seeping back into his voice since he arrived in the graveyard, and now it comes out thick, like it never left.

Danny’s face falls slack, like a puppet losing its strings, and he sinks into himself. “I guess I…” He exhales slow. “I’ve just been distracted.” A faraway glaze eclipses his eyes, and before they close, tears begin to bleed onto his eyelids. Again, grief mars the lines of his skin, settling into the curve of his mouth and threading between his brows like second nature.

Fuck, it’d be so easy for Jason to just step out. Move. His best friend is grieving. He could save him the pain of it and tell him now. Move, move, move.

He doesn’t move.

For a while, there’s nothing but silence, just Jason hiding in his shame; a rat on the street would be bolder than him. Danny’s eyes don’t open. Eventually, his head tilts and slumps into his knees, Jason almost thinks, somehow, that he’s fallen asleep — but Danny’s hand threads into the hair on the back of his head, his finger beginning to tap an invisible beat into his skull.

It’s the perfect opportunity for him to slip away. Danny’s distracted; lost in his thoughts. He won’t notice if Jason slinks off now. He could go and hide away on a roof nearby, ensuring that Danny gets his rightful privacy without leaving him to the teeth of the streets.

Jason still doesn’t move.

Danny begins to hum. It’s a low, breathy sound, and it shakes unevenly. There’s no discernible melody, but a breeze picks it up and travels it through the air anyway, rooting Jason to his spot. His throat swells, and his back sinks into the bark behind him.

For a full minute, maybe two, Danny just hums. It’s a simple tune, but it fills the graveyard with the sound. When it goes up, he sharpens, when he goes down again, it flats, and sometimes it wobbles.

When he lifts his head, when he finally opens his eyes, he’s still humming. Soon it dies down, and the next time Danny exhales, it comes out tumultuous and slow. His hand slips heavy from his head and drops into the grass.

“Where’d you go, Jay?” Danny mutters, and despite his voice coming flat, he still sounds so tired. Danny’s eyes flick up, lifting off the grass to burn into the headstone. He’s not even looking at him, and yet Jason still freezes up, he still feels pinned under the weight of his stare. “I know you’re still out there, somewhere. I know it.”

Jason breathes in shakily, a sting deep in the back of his throat. He gives no answer; guilt is an animal with claws, and it burrows deep into Jason’s heart to make itself a home between the tendons. He’s right here.

Silence falls over them again, and this time it’s only the sound of the city around them that bleeds into the air. Danny stares at Jason’s grave, staring like he’s expecting an answer. He doesn’t get one.

Danny sighs out low, and stands. His knees tremble slightly, and he rubs his sleeve into his eyes, catching the stray tears falling from his lashes. Like breaking a spell, Jason jolts from the fog of sorrow hanging in the air.

“I’ll see you later, an’ I’ll make sure to bring you those flowers you like.” He tells him, and miraculously, a shadow of a smile flits over Danny’s mouth. “Y’better be here when I get back, alright? I’ll kick y’fucking ass if you’re not.”

Jason bites back a huff, his mouth upturning in a wobble. I will, he thinks, and watches Danny trail out of the graveyard with his hands in his pockets. He waits until he’s disappeared behind the gate before following.

Guilt is a thing with claws, and Jason leaves the cemetery with it eating his tongue. But he makes sure Danny gets back to his hotel safe before he slinks back to Crime Alley; he might not be a ghost anymore, but he can still trail behind Danny like he is.

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ayy i finally got chapter 2 of CFAU/TMWS edited/redone! It had to get rewritten because a lot of stuff became obsolete in the wake of the new chapter 1. and also it just kinda. fucking sucked imo lmao

(you can also read it here on my ao3!)

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #cw swearing #dpxdc crossover #childhood friends au #cfau #dead on main #dp x dc fanfic #dpxdc fanfic #dpdc #banshee danny fenton #got to let jason be Slightly More Unhinged about Danny in this version which i had fun with. i love writing unhealthy attachments it just #adds a little spice ✨ im like an evil scientist marveling over their unethical creation. someone call me olivia octavia #fun fact that i learned recently: jazz also wanted to be also be an accountant or a brain surgeon! so she's getting a little break from #being the Therapist Friend. :]#jason @ danny: whose hurt you. tell me i'll kill them. talk to me tell me everything. don't leave my side please.#danny would be pr similar if he knew red hood was jason :P. uhh. after the initial shock wore off.

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meerawrites · 1 year

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Introduction to writeblr

Hello I am Meera S (they/them), I am a speculative fiction writer, writer of historical fiction and more, all of it is queer centric and with person of global majority (colour) angle. Please interact with this post and I shall add you back to the best of my ability!

about my writing

I’ve been writing and fan fictioning since I was 10. I started my first novel a little over a year ago, I am editing it in a month. I gravitate towards the gothic and historical but I am not gonna limit myself to that. I also write short stories, fic and poetry.

1. Vampires, witches, werewolves, ghosts, and more, oh my!: I love me some monsters and allegories that are multilayered, just not zombies.

2. Fantasy and gothic, I write about the human through the inhuman, Anne Rice once said vampire was the most poignant allegory for outcast and other-ness.

3. The historical. You have to know the past to understand the present and future. Ancient History through 1920s and all of South Asian history and mythology.

4. Diversity: I am a queer south asian person but I do earnestly try for informed diverse world views that are nuanced and sympathetic even if not “moral” because vampire, etc.

about me

read here.

fandoms: read here. go here for fandom stuff. Here for history. Here for fic. Role-play masterlist.

Influences: Anne Rice, Oscar Wilde, Octavia Butler, Indu Sundaresan, @writingvampires, @elisaintime, Silvia Moreno Garcia and @saintmachina.

what i'm looking for

1. Friends and cool people.

2. eventual beta readers/editors.

3. Other writers.

4. people who know people etc.

genres i read

I gravitate towards the gothic and historical, but anything well written and I think worthwhile.

Just finished: Good Omens, Lasher by Anne Rice, catching up with Dracula daily . also following @re-dracula.

Immediately going to read: Taltos by Anne Rice, The Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice, Common Sense by Thomas Paine, and the memoir of Benjamin Tallmadge (the memoir is only 75 pages long so..)

WIPS

Presently unamed, editing in a month: What if Sibyl Vane was too haunt Dorian Gray? Heavily inspired by Wilde’s poetry, Emilie Autumn, steampunk, the allegory of ghosts as the inescapable past popularized by Charles Dickens in A Christmas Carol. As well as the folklore of banshees, avenging angels & La Llorona. More here. Playlist.

Pending: novella: les liaisons dangereuses x vampires. Playlist.

Pleasure to make your acquaintance!

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themanwhomadeamonster · 1 year

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AHDJSJDNJS HI WAS TAGGED BY @ditaliaa THIS GOT BURIED IN MY DRAFTS OOPS-

3 ships: dropping my wf ships bc i love them <333 - nekroberon, fast food, banshee/octavia. special shoutout to lavos x everybody though

First ship ever: silvaze LOL 🤍💜

Last song: my own piano doodle that i unofficially labelled "sadge dot mscz"

Last movie: muppets most wanted 🐸

Currently reading: nothing atm but i last read a fanfic draft for a mate the other day :>

Currently watching: resident alien and inside job again

Currently consuming: mango/pineapple smoothie

Currently craving: my cola mentos.......

Tagging: @wainwrightjakobshammerlock @pureunbridledchaos @wellyourenotwrong @juliozapata and YOU

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eliasdrid · 4 years

Photo

Banshee Prime with Octavia (in Lua!)

Kavat’s out of the container!! Here’s my piece for the “This Is Who We Are” Warframe Zine! (more info about it here)

#Banshee Prime #Warframe #Warframe Zine #This Is Who We Are Zine #Warframe fanart #Octavia #my art #fanart #illustration #banshee x octavia #yeah this is what this piece is about!#sorry if u thought it was about anything else -#anyway!!! really happy that i can finally post it #hope u like it

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theterribletenno · 2 years

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Siren, the Voice of Death Warframe

Based on an original submission by Mochi. New sonic sister for Banshee and Octavia.

Health: 100 (300 at rank 30) Shields: 100 (300 at rank 30) Armor: 100 Energy: 200 (300 at rank 30) Sprint Speed: 1.2

Passive: Similar to the Ghost ability of the Shade sentinel, Siren will turn herself and her companion invisible when hostile entities are within 7.5 meters of her. This invisibility lasts up to a maximum of 10 seconds and is cancelled if Siren attacks or uses an ability. This effect has a 10 second cooldown and cannot trigger within 5 seconds of Siren's last attack or ability cast.

Ability 1: Temptation, 25 energy. Siren seduces nearby enemies with a soft song of comfort and allure, causing them to guilelessly stumble into her waiting arms. When cast, all enemies within a 20 meter radius become entranced, slowly walking towards Siren without attacking or using abilities for the next 10 seconds. While entranced by Temptation enemies are vulnerable to melee finisher attacks. Any damage dealt to entranced enemies will cause them to break free of Siren's Temptation, suffering disorientation for a brief moment, along with amnesia causing their alertness level to reset.

Ability 2: Echoes, 25 energy. With great skill, Siren throws her voice to confuse and distract enemies. All enemies within 35 meters will perceive phantom threats around them for the next 12 seconds. Siren along with any and all of her allies within range will have their threat reduced to zero and every 2.5 seconds affected enemies have a 10% chance to perceive each other as threats and attack each other.

Ability 3: Scream, 50 energy. Siren lets out a shriek so powerful it causes physical harm to enemies. When used, all enemies within a 20 meter radius are hit by a deafening scream, causing them to hold their heads in pain for 5 seconds, and for 10 seconds after suffer from disorientation, reducing weapon accuracy by 50%. Enemies in a 60 degree cone in front of Siren also take blast damage with 30% status chance based on distance. Enemies less than 6 meters away take 1,000 damage, enemies between 6 and 10 meters from Siren take 750, enemies between 11 and 15 meters away take 500, and enemies between 16 and 20 meters away take 250 damage. Any and all enemies under the effects of Temptation when Scream is cast will be knocked down and unable to stand for 5 seconds, rendering them vulnerable to melee ground finishers. Any and all units under the effects of Echoes when Scream is cast will perceive their nearest ally as an enemy and begin attacking them.

Ability 4: Song of Death, toggled ability, drains 3 energy per second. Siren sings a song of war, famine, and pestilence; a song of fear, desperation, and hopelessness; a song not for the dead but of the dead. While active all enemies within a 35 meter radius begin taking toxic damage every half-second with 15% status chance. Damage scales with enemy level and proximity to Siren. Base tick damage scales from 100 at the outer edge of the ability's range up to 750 at the epicenter. Damage is multiplied by 1+X where X is the enemy's level divided by 10. Damage from Song of Death does not cancel the effects of Temptation. Casting Scream while Song of Death is active will increase the damage and status chance of Song of Death by 200% for 3 seconds.

Subsumed ability: Scream

Signature Weapons Leucosia: Siren's signature primary weapon. Years of work went into perfecting this sniper rifle's barrel bore and vents to produce beautiful sounds as it fires. During Orokin military ceremonies this rifle was used as an instrument. While hip-firing this weapon has a full-auto trigger with high fire rate at the cost of low per-hit damage, and while looking down the scope it changes to a semi-auto trigger that deals high damage at the cost of low fire rate and consumes multiple bullets per shot. Full-auto hipfire mode has above average crit chance, semi-auto scoped mode has very high crit chance and increased crit multiplier both at the cost of very low status chance. Both firing modes are silent and deal mostly puncture, moderate impact, and low slash damage. Small magazine for a full-auto rifle with a quick reload. When wielded by Siren this weapon's scoped shots cost less ammo per shot. Ligeia: Siren's signature melee weapon, a polearm with a spiraled spear blade resembling the shell of an ancient sea creature. High attack speed at the cost of below-average per-hit damage. High status chance at the cost of below-average crit. Deals mostly electric damage, moderate slash, low puncture and very low impact. In Siren's hands this weapon's slam attacks have a guaranteed electric status proc.

Closing Notes: Stealthy sonic destruction warframe. Basically Banshee but better. Leucosia and Ligeia are the names of two mythological sirens.

#warframe #fan made #original character

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kurosara · 4 years

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Octavia Blake x Fem!reader (The 100)

Trigedasleng

‘Just float me already.’

I couldn’t even get a couple of hours of sleep without hearing Bellamy Blake scream out orders like a banshee. I sat up, feeling groggier than normal. Probably because of Monty and Jasper’s juice they were giving out all night. It took a few moments before my mind began to race. Thoughts of what I was supposed to be doing smacked me in the brain full force.

‘Shit. Shit. Shit.’

I quickly laced up my boots and put on my cleanest top. Peering my head through the flap of my tent, I waited until Bellamy and his group of fanboys were too busy being dictators to notice me and jettisoned myself, aiming for behind the dropship. From there, I kept a crouched position and hurried to the makeshift tunnel we’d built. I rushed out of the hole, letting the forest engulf me for a moment. My eyes scanned the trees, spotting the familiar white flower. I plucked the flowers in a hurry as I followed my designated trail to my final destination. My footsteps were light and gentle as I practically hopped across the ground, just as I’d recently learned. As the cave entrance I was searching for came into sight, my lips curled upwards just enough into a smile before I shook my head, remembering I had to keep my game face. I crept to the entrance, trying to be unnoticed for the moment as I listened carefully.

“Ai laik Octavia kom Skaikru en ai gaf gouthru klir.[I am Octavia of the Sky People and I seek safe passage] Now you try.” I could hear the faint echo of a familiar, deep voice. Lincoln.

“Ai laik Octavia kom Skaikru en ai gaf gouthru klir.” Octavia’s voice mimicked Lincoln’s words slowly.

I slowly walked further into the cave, Lincoln’s eyes catching mine, causing Octavia to turn in a panic, probably worried I was her brother or a grounder.

I put my hands up to show I am weaponless, “Hod op. Ai laik (Y/n) kom Skaikru en ai gaf gouthru klir.” [Stop. I am (Y/n) of the Sky People and I seek safe passage.]

The pair of them just stared at me in silence for a few moments before they both chuckled and let smiles grace their previously stern features. I chuckled softly and ran my hand gently through my (h/l) (h/c) hair. I went to join the pair and sat with my back against the wall of the cave, Octavia to my right and Lincoln to my left.

“You’re getting better Octavia,” I commented as I tilted my head in her direction.

Octavia just shrugged with that shy smile of hers, “Not really. Not like you are. You’re way better at this than me.”

Lincoln nods his head with a hum of agreement, “I agree. How do you understand Trigedasleng so well? You guys didn’t have this language right?”

I shook my head to the side slowly, “We had history books with other languages. The ones we knew and had teachers for. But I was born with an ‘affinity for communication’ as my teachers said. I pick up most languages quickly and communicate well.”

“I wish I could do that,” Octavia mumbled, casting her gaze away from us.

I gently ruffled her hair with my hand, bringing her attention back my way, “What I have in speech, you have in fighting ability. I wish I had your natural survival skills.”

Octavia’s cheeks turned a faint shade of pink as she tucked some hair behind her ear, that shy smile returning to her pink lips. I turned my eyes away, returning my attention to Lincoln. He just shook his head at me slightly with a slightly creepy smile as he brought one of his knees up. I only gave him a scrunched look of confusion, but he turned back to Octavia, to continue their training.

Octavia’s pov (that’s right. I did a POV switch >:D )

I tried to catch my breath as I reached my arm out. (Y/n) grabbed my forearm from her place on the ground and I assisted her to her feet. Lincoln had brought us down by the river, further upstream so we wouldn’t be seen, of course, to practice our fighting.

“You’re getting better (Y/n).” I gave her a sly smirk and she just laughed, bowing her head slightly and then looking up at me.

My breath caught in my throat for a moment. As the sun reflected out of her (e/c) eyes and her hair looked just right for her, I couldn’t help but stare helplessly at her adorable features. We were still gripping each other’s forearms when Lincoln placed a hand on our shoulders, causing us to drop our hands.

“Great job today. (Y/n) you leave yourself open a lot. Maybe we should test you with something other than a sword. I think your coordination would work well with archery. Octavia, amazing as always. Remember that striking low is equally as strong as striking high as long as you strike fast. Ste yuj.[Stay strong] You should head back. Your people will be looking for you soon.”

We nodded in agreement and started to walk away before Lincoln spoke up, “(Y/n). One more thing.”

He waved her back to him and I felt a pang in my chest and a very uncomfortable churn of my stomach, like I might be sick. Watching the two of them talk without me… what was this feeling? After a few moments, it was obvious that (Y/n) was a bit nervous about whatever discussion they were having, and I wanted so desperately to be a part of that conversation. To find out what’s making (Y/n) nervous. To be the reason she’s nervous. (Y/n) was the only person who didn’t treat me like a freak when I was discovered under the floor. She understood how Bellamy is just trying to protect me and that he’s not the worst person around. She understood me. Like no one else out of the 100 did. And somewhere along the way, I fell for her. Hard.

“What could be taking so long?” I mumbled impatiently from my standing position a few feet away.

Moments after that, (Y/n) comes jogging over to me, but this time she won’t look me in the eye.

“Let’s head back.” That’s all she said before she began walking towards camp, not waiting to see if I was coming with her.

After we were almost back to camp, all I could think was, ‘Something’s not right.’

I didn’t ask right away, but the curiosity was gnawing at me, “(Y/n).”

I stopped walking and she stopped beside me, looking at me for a moment before turning her gaze to the ground again.

“Look at me.” Reluctantly, she finally met my gaze, “What did Lincoln say to you?”

Her eyes widened slightly and she shoved her hands into her pockets, her nervous habit to keep from biting her nails, a more noticeable habit she’d forced herself to stop when I pointed it out to her.

“Nothing…”

“You’re gonna have to be a better liar than that.” I crossed my arms over my chest as I tried to keep calm. It’s not her fault I’m anxious to know.

With a heavy sigh, (Y/n) looked around, making sure no one was watching us in our covered spot behind the trees, “He was just… teaching me some language stuff I wanted to know…”

She scratched the back of her neck, her body kind of hunching in on itself as if she were trying to hide away within herself.

“What stuff? What couldn’t you tell me too?” I didn’t mean for my words to be harsh, but by the unsolicited flinch from the usually sturdy (Y/n), I could tell that’s what I’d done.

She hesitated, her eyes meeting mine once more before she bit her lip, looking down to the ground.

“It was... “ She began to mumble so low I couldn’t understand her.

I took a step closer, leaving not even two feet of space between us, “What?” I spoke softly this time, not wanting her to be afraid of me. I wanted the opposite. I wanted her to trust me. To want me like I want her.

(Y/n) looked in my eyes, but this time was different. There was such strong emotion in her eyes that I almost stepped back. However, I held my ground and gazed right back.

“Ai hod yu in, Octavia kom Skaikru.”

Gaaah why didn’t I pay more attention to Lincoln when he was telling me random phrases?? I had no idea what she’d just said, but damn it, I had to know! It sounded so important so… beautiful from her lips, like magic.

“I…” I paused as I shook my head slowly and her face fell for a moment, “I-I don’t know what that means.” I admitted honestly.

Her face brightened up just a bit as if she were expecting me to say something else. This time she stepped closer to me, closing the space between us. She gently placed her slightly calloused hands on my cheeks. I could feel them shaking subtly against my skin.

With her (e/c) eyes locked on mine, my heart racing in my chest as I tried to remember to breathe, she spoke again but slower and in a whisper, “Ai hod yu in, Octavia kom Skaikru.”

I didn’t even have time to try and decipher the phrase before (Y/n)’s pink lips met mine in such a tender kiss. My eyes fluttered close as I didn’t waste the moment. I kissed back passionately, but still tender against her lips that tasted of the meat we’d eaten and the alcohol we’d drank last night. The taste was intoxicating. The moment itself was bliss. Better than a fairytale. I brought my hands to her waist, pulling our bodies flush together. Her hands trailed from my cheeks to around my neck, and we made out in peace for what I wished was an eternity. We pulled away for a breath of air, our chests rising and falling in sync as we breathed. I sure as hell knew what she meant now.

“I love you too. (Y/n) kom Skaikru.”

Maybe learning Trigedasleng won’t be too hard after all.

#the 100 #the cw the 100 #octavia #octavia blake #oneshot #OneShots #imagines #octavia Blake imagine #octavia Blake oneshot #marie avgeropoulos #x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #x you #octavia x reader #octavia blake x reader #octavia blake x you #octavia x you #trigedasleng

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ivyaltdrachen · 5 years

Note

Favorite Warframe ship?

don’t have a one fave ship, but this is an old pic but i drew some of my favorites a while back! oberon/nekros, ivara/titania, banshee/octavia, volt/mag, khora/valk, and of course the best ship of them all excalibur x his sword

of course these r all my opinions on who would work the best together :>

#warframe #ask dirk #dirk #oberon #nekros #ivara #titania #octavia #banshee #volt #mag #excalibur #valkyr #khora

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sassysweetstories · 5 years

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Empress Part 9

Summary: You’re apart of the 100. You’re very bad-ass and don’t take shit from no-one. However, the longer you’re on earth, the more complicated things become.

Ship: Bellamy Blake x Fem!Reader, Dimitri!Grounder x Fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, crying, angst, swearing, minor smut, fighting,mentions of abuse, blood, gore, etc.

Notes: none of these gifs are mine, credit to owners. i realize not all of this is side by side accurate to the show, bare with me. i hope you enjoy!

Tagged: @bailey-hoover @kiralivelove @thalia-prior-of-ravenclaw@anamcg317@bellasett @queentiffanyyy @archer-whovian-violinist @beingmadinwonderland @princessisabelle19@violence-and-velvet @lachicadelamanzana @teenwolfbitches2

First P.O.V

I groan in pain, dropping my food supplies as Bellamy growls into my ear. “Traitor.” He hisses like a snake. His grip tightening around my neck and shoulders to keep me contain. “You’ve been seeing a grounder?! Have you been feeding him information, too?!” His grip is too much, too painful it’s getting harder to breathe. I twist his arm and push him as far away from me as I can, pulling out a knife to defend myself. “Bellamy let me explain-” He cuts me off by screaming. “I knew you were a snake! The little princess isn’t so clean, after-all!” My voice is twice the rage he was expecting and it takes both of us by surprise. “MAN, YOU JUST LOVE THE SOUND OF YOUR OWN VOICE, DON’T YOU?! JUST SHUT UP AND LISTEN!” Maybe because my hands tremble that he finally silences. Not out of pity but out of something more painful.

I sigh, “Dimitri. That’s his name. He saved my life one of the earlier nights when we first arrived. I thought he was going to kill me, I was sure of it. But when he didn’t, I realized he was just as curious about me as I was about him. He’s not from Lincoln’s clan. There are more clans all over the world. I have saved his people before and they have protected me. I haven’t told anyone about our plans or our people, I swear to you! Dimitri and I would meet and he taught me things about earth, including the language. I told him stories about the books we read when we were kids and the stars. That’s it.” He never puts his weapon down but his eyes are sad and angry, much like when Octavia confessed about seeing Lincoln. He hates the idea but can’t stop her, even when he tried. “Why were you kissing him?” He gulps down some saliva, not really wanting the answer I provide. “I have feelings for him. Please, Bellamy. I know you hate me-”

He scoffs, disgusted by the statement. “I don’t hate you.” I dare to lower my weapon, perplexed. An uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach as I await for more of an explanation. “I don’t like that you’re right a lot. You actually weren’t half bad.” He pauses for a moment, almost eyeing me with distaste. I know the following statement he makes will break me more than I care to admit, a tinge of regret. “I thought you were more than this. I thought you were better than us, than me. Turns out that’s a lie. Your secret is safe, for now.” A small warning: a threat. Make one wrong move and I will take everything you love away. His posture seems to scream. I had the potential of being friends with Bellamy but I don’t know how he’ll view me now. Maybe as a monster for all I know. I walk a few steps ahead, half expecting him to literally stab me in the back. We melt into the flow of the groups movements. He forces a smile in Octavia’s direction and nods to Clarke.

I flank Octavia’s side and half expect Bellamy to glare at me in disgust but he looks more disappointed than anything. There’s a pang of guilt in my heart, a feeling I can’t control despite how much I want to. I have no reason to feel the way that I do but still my emotions alter everything and get the best of me. Especially with how much I don’t owe the Ark or my “people” anything. And though my secret is out to him, it is only he who knows about Dimitri. I’m glad nobody else does. Whether he comes out about my secret is a worry for another day. Right now I need to make sure I get my people out and away from this camp. Octavia and I fall into line a few feet away from Bellamy, Clarke and Jasper. “Alright Octavia, is there anything else we need to look forward to if we slip from the grounders?”

She shook her head, probably glad for the conversation. “Lincoln told me just to get us far away from the first wave of grounder troops. Once we’re away we should be fine.” We walk for another ten minutes until I feel a chill trace up my spine. Both Octavia and Jasper take notice and stop, causing everyone’s movements to cease. “You felt that, too? Didn’t you?” Octavia asks, unsheathing her weapon. She’s becoming better at reading a situation than most. I turn to answer her question when an arrow lodges itself into one of the kids a few bodies away. He dies on impact, falling to the ground instantaneously. We have no time to mourn for another child gone as Jasper banshee shrieks to our people. “GROUNDERS!!! RETREAT!!”

The arrows and chaos around us make our movements quick. So fast, I don’t even realize we’re already back inside camp grounds. When Raven is in the drop-ship secured, and far from harm, Bellamy and Clarke take the ladder, guns at the ready while the troopers take their mark. “Why aren’t they attacking?” Bellamy asked, frustrated. But Clarke and I already know. “We’re doing exactly what they wanted us to do..” She turned over her shoulder to Octavia, blonde hair whipping as she does so. “The first troop are scouts, right?” The young girl nodded to my right. “We can take them! It’s what Lincoln would do!” Bellamy huffed, clearly more angry than before. “I’m done doing what that stupid grounder would do! We listened to him and it got Drew killed!” So that was the boy that died. The thought makes my stomach churn.

Finn scoffed, “That grounder saved our lives! I agree with Octavia! For all we know there’s one scout out there!” I nod along, “Me too. If we move fast we’ll slip out but we’re just sitting ducks if we stay.” Bellamy takes my voice in stride, fully prepared to fight even in times like these. “If we don’t fight, we die! You’re a coward!” And though I’m a few inches shorter than him, I don’t back down from the challenge. “Or am I smarter than you, Blake?! We stay, we rot! It’s obvious. If we move, we live another day!” Octavia pushes us apart, more focused on Clarke than our bickering. “Clarke, we can still do this..” I sigh as people look from her and I. Bellamy may have people listening but he doesn’t have their heart and soul. He lifts his chin up, glancing back at Clarke. “Looking to you, princess. Whats it gonna be?”

When she sighs, I know I’ve lost this battle. “Scouts, more than one. Finn, they’re already here-” Clarke looks back at Bellamy, almost defeated. “Looks like you got your fight-” I cuss under my breath before stalking off to my tent to grab all of my weapons available. Octavia finds me shortly and we make our way towards one of our foxholes. Bellamy grabs her by the arm, muttering something so softly I couldn’t hear it if I tried. I linger, watching the young boy and admiring the camp for what could be my last time. We did pretty well. When she returns to me, I can’t help but smile a little. She looks so strong standing by herself. When I look back at Bellamy, I notice he’s already looking directly at me. His gaze is different from before. Almost like they’re full of longing.

When he’s not being a total ass, he’s quite handsome. Instead of following Octavia, I draw closer to him. “I think this is a stupid plan and I’m sure you’re acting out cause of fear but you’re not half bad, Blake.” I say, stretching out my hand for him to take. Hesitantly, he grasps my palm. His warmth sends chills down my spine. Bellamy doesn’t pull away. “We’re both gonna live.” I snicker at the crude comment, pulling away before asking, “What makes you think so?” He laughs for the first time despite the situation. “Cause we’re both arrogant and headstrong.” I smile wide at the honest joke before following his sister. My grin falters the further I walk, mumbling. “I sure hope you’re right, Bellamy..”

Octavia leaves shortly and with one quick glance, I know she’ll be okay. Though I am not armed with a gun, I still feel safe in the dark of the foxholes. They hoot at the movements but I don’t see anything fall. Bellamy comes tumbling into the makeshift hole. “Don’t shoot! We’re wasting bullets! Where’s Octavia?!” He turns to me. With one glance, I reassure him but tread lightly nonetheless. He holds valuable information that could be my downfall. “She’s okay, Bellamy.” Our radio com starts to explode suddenly. “THEY’RE EVERYWHERE!” For the first time in a long time, my hands begun to tremble and heart beat quicken with fear. I can’t think of the worst outcome. I won’t gain anything from making myself anxious. I make my way over to the other side of the camp, running past some of the kids who duck in fear.

Bellamy follows close by, almost on my tail when a large mass smacks the Blake boy down to the ground. Quickly, I turn around and stand between him and the grounder that’s slipped through. Before he could attack, a large sword ran straight through his chest. Octavia stands over the body with a coy smile. “You see that, big brother?” He laughs lightly before both our expressions fall. An arrow slashes her shoulder and Octavia falls into my arms. I don’t know when Lincoln arrives but I’m nothing short from relieved when I see him. I can take care of her but we have to go now.” He says softly, urgency in his tone. I watch Bellamy struggle to let his baby sister go. I put my hand on his cheek and nod. “Go. Take care of her.” I can see the broken expression on his face as he watches his sister leave with a stranger.

Once they’re out of sight, we walk off towards the fence. “HOLD THE LINE!!” Clarke screams to the gunmen trembling at their posts. I glance through the peephole and gasp. They’ve broke the first of our defense. A few bodies lay on the dirt, unidentifiable. Clarke comes out from the drop-ship again, dripping with sweat and stress. “Those who don’t have guns, make your way into the drop-ship! Jasper’s done it!” They move quickly with panicked faces. This is the end of the camp, I can feel it. I take a deep breath and prepare for the wall to break. The walls; our protection system crumbles and the grounders swarm in, one after another. They never seem to stop. There are at least twenty grounders blocking us from the safety inside the drop-ship.

I do my best to protect Bellamy and myself from the men that run towards us. One hits him hard and I’m forced to protect both sides of the conflict. As he falls, Finn comes out from behind, shooting and knocking more men out of the way. I pull Bellamy up to Finn’s side. They stumble and fight while Clarke gets as much of our people into the drop-ship as she can before closing it. All of a sudden, I’m thrown down to the ground, slipping and falling down the hill. Sticks, rocks and dirt collide with my skin, roughly tearing me into two before I come to a rough stop. My forehead feels wet while my temple aches and throbs against my cranium. With wobbly feet, I stand, putting the majority of my weight onto the nearest tree. All I can feel is throbbing pain. I’m so tired. Despite my body screaming for release, I pull out the last weapon I have and attempt to stand, shifting from foot to foot. The black mass grows into two and then three as my vision beings to blur. Suddenly, everything goes dark.

(I hope you guys liked it! Please comment below!)

#comment below #bellamy blake #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy x reader #bellamy blake x reader #The 100 #clarke griffin #requests #reader #request #reader insert #Female reader #heartbreak #breaking up #screaming #empress series coming tonight #the empress series #empress series part 9 #empress series

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karuframe · 6 years

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Yooooo i saw your tags on that post saying there werent many ship fans in warframe and i was curious what your favorite ships are!! I havent seen anyone else that ships stuff before. Theres almost no warframe fanfiction out there and its kind of hard to find people to talk to about it with that dont just want to talk about builds and stats ^w^

yeah there’s barely any fanfiction or fanart with this topic. to be fair, the warframe story is not really asking for this sort of content and you have to be quite creative and twist the story around to be able to do so, so i’m not surprised, but still it feels a bit lonely at time.i’ve explored some ships and dynamics in my casualframe/humanframe sets and headcanons, there’s more to come, but anyway, i will share some of those i put a bit thought into (take into consideration that everyone interprets the frames differently)!!WARNING FOR DORKY HEADCANONS INCOMING!!

VOLT X BANSHEE-best friends, swaggers, bros-volt flirts around a lot and never scores, banshee crushes on volt-banshee spends most time with their squad (octavia,nyx,nezha,loki)-banshee’s always there for him and to pretend that he’s not a glam loser-eventually volt realizes that he enjoys being with banshee the most and they become a thing

ASH X LOKI-Ash is very distant and introverted, spends most of his time training and meditating-Loki always needs to be everywhere, needs others to like him which in most cases they do, except Ash-Loki gets curious about Ash’s dissapearances and follows him into the dojo where he just stealthily watches him until he’s being pointed out-Ash finds Loki too loud, irresponsible, distracting and annoying and yet he never tells him off-thanks to Ash not liking Loki immediately, he sets it as a personal goal-Ash never seems to be caring for Loki much but when Loki gets himself in a dangerous situation, it’s Ash’s priority to get him out-eventually after Loki proves himself just as worthy, Ash finds pride in having him by his side-Loki cools down a bit and together they give off yakuza powercouple vibes

MESA X TRINITY-amazing synergy on the battlefield and off of it-mesa is very hard on herself-trinity is very patient and loving-both are protecting each other more than themselves-mesa feels like she’s not deserving of trinity but for sure won’t say no to the opportunity-trinity is a pacifist but she’d kill for mesa-mesa loves practicing with ash- both likes pushing their limits- trinity then has some bandaging to do on her-mesa visits vauban from time to time for gun augmentation-trinity is helping/nursing people in her free time

RHINO X NYX-the muscle and the mind-rhino is excal’s right hand man and he spends most time with him-nyx is part of the young’uns squad and spends most time with them or sleeping-they are very casual together-no one knows how they even got together it jsut sort of happened-rhino never lost the pink glasses, even though nyx is a sloppy couch potato gremlin-nyx is the boss-nyx tries to look unimpressed of having the hot kind beefy bf

EXCALIBUR X VALKYR-Excal used to spend the most time with Mag, Volt, Rhino and Frost before-after being chosen as the leader, he took huge amount of responsibility while making Rhino his right hand man-working more with all the frames, he faces the tough task of making all these different characters work together in unity - one of the more problematic ones being Valkyr-Excal takes extra time off to make a personal visit to Valkyr’s quarters to try and let her trust him more-she doesn’t let him at first, but even though he has no experience of dealing with someone so unstable and skittish, he finds a way of making her feel calm and secure-he keeps an extra eye on her in battle and pays her compliments about her skills afterwards-to show her his trust in her, he makes her his right hand woman as well after taking few of her concerns and ideas and decissions more than into consideration -Rhino being the voice of reason and Valkyr trusting her senses and taking risks is a perfect balance between setting Excal on the right path

SARYN / LIMBO-saryn- single by choice / limbo- single NOT by a choice-strong independent saryn who needs no partner / weak dependent limbo who desperatedly wants a laid-saryn- very desired / limbo- gentleman with no game-she doesn’t mind the attention but she makes it obvious that she’s not interested / he craves the attention and is oblivious to people not being interested-saryn- the hot mom of the team / limbo - the wine uncle of the team

NEKROS X OBERON (X NIDUS)-(lots of nekobe HCs i got from lotusshim554 so go check their stuff out!)-Nekros joined later and Oberon was one of the first frames he met; fell in love immediately-Nekros tries too hard, Oberon plays hard to get/isn’t interested-Oberon uses Nekros as an easy “deal with” his heat without any deeper meaning, although Nekros groes even more attached - thinks they are a thing-Oberon enjoys reading or spending time with other mature calm frames, while Nekros tries to be everywhere where he is, just in case-Oberon is sent on a solo mission where he is met with Nidus who he brings back-Nidus has been isolated for too long and lacks lots of manners and empathy, although is very attractive and dangerous looking; catching Oberon’s attention-Oberon clings to Nidus more than he ever showed interested in Nekros and Nidus uses that against Nekros-Nidus, just like Mirage, starts to subvert harmony within the frames for selfish joy-On a mission with these three only, Oberon is facing a decission to help one of those two-Oberon chooses Nekros-Nekros helps Nidus even after everything-after they are back safe and sound, Nidus is locked and watched over, Oberon is coming to terms that after all he chose Nekros and Nekros is in seventh heaven-they become a thing

EMBER X NEZHA-Nezha often catches Ember not keeping her eyes off him which both scares and flatters him-Ember is a known badass tough punk lady, saying it as it is, picking up on people twice her size, not afraid of fight-Nezha is very much aware of fight, very impressionable, feels confident only amongst his friends-Ember is the first one to approach Nezha, she is very casual and straight-to-the-point about stuff she wants-Ember is very grabby and terrirotial of things that are hers-even after being a thing, Nezha’s not sure if he’s aroused or terrified

VAUBAN X NOVA-”sugar daddy” vauban, “petite doll” nova-vauban spends most of his alone time planning and working on tech-nova is paegant girl, scared, unaware of her own potential-nova doesn’t feel good in the company of the other frames, therefore she quietly spends time with vauban in his workplace-vauban teaching curious nova about his creations-nova visting is part of the routine now and vauban makes little gifts for her in exchange

KHORA X HYDROID-the kinky couple-both are very mature, classy and dangerous looking-lots of innuendos-”open” relationship where they are together for the physical aspect of it and for the power couple realness, but neither have problem with the other branching out-khora is desired by many and sometimes gives in to some poor loser’s fantasies-with hydroid’s pirate nature, he really cannot be trusted, yet both him and khora know each other’s game

OCTAVIA X BANSHEE X VOLT X NYX X NEZHA-the young’uns squad-volt the fuckboi leader-banshee the quiet empathic one-octavia the loud diva-nyx the genius sloppy drunk-nezha the hyperactive optimistic one-sometimes includes loki or equinox

OBERON X TITANIA-older brother and younger sister-titania is the more bossy and overprotective one-even though Oberon takes his team as his family, Titania will always come first-Oberon is both her teacher and protector, while Titania gives him courage and talks (yells) sense to him when he gets lost

there were other ships i considered like Mag x Frost, Titania x Ivara,Nidus x Mirage, but i’d stick with those above I’ve mentioned, not everyone has to be paired up and if new dynamic comes to me, i may add to this!

#warframe #hcs #yay i finaly did it #don't look at me i know it's nerdy #there's not much to work with in warframe to begin with and yet #i have very strong feelings about those characters

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