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bluerosefox · 9 months

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Daughter of Phantom, Lady Gotham.

I love Lady Gotham stuff in the DCxDP stories, like a lot, so what if, hear me out (Long post is long, I rambled again)

Lady Gotham is Danny's daughter.

How? How about Danny is hurt (his parents? GIW? Vlad?), like badly, to the point even his core is damaged and the time needed to heal would take years, like a lot of years. Like it was bad that even his Rogues were shocked and shaken. They eventually get him to the Realms but are unsure what to do next. So they're scrambling trying to figure out how to save him.

So when CW appeared he asked to handed the Core because he knows what to do, where to hide him so he can heal they don't question it, everyone in the Realms know CW, the Ancient of Time itself, has a soft spot for Phantom. He opens a portal to a different world, not Danny's he can't run the risk of GIW finding him, to a just beginning world, the new world will help speed up his healing, and with Frostbite's help they set up a healing chamber deep, deep in the ground. Once they made sure everything is set up and safe, they place his core inside the healing pod and return every so often to check on him.

Over time though, above on the surface of that world it's timeline starts. Animals, creatures, humans, aliens, magic users, etc etc begin and with it, because even as a half healing core, Danny's power and ectoplasm starts effecting the area he's resting in (Ghost King Danny? Young/New Ancient/Eldritch Being? Or just an OP Danny?) (Clockwork and even Frostbite showing up every so often doesn't help either, it explains why Gotham is so cold sometimes or why time seems... off)

Anyways due to Danny's power (along with bits of Clockwork and Frostbite), magic of this world, and people beginning to build a small town on top of the land it gives birth to the namesake of the town.

GOTHAM.

CW foresaw her 'birth' and finds her sitting in front of Danny's healing pod. He always knew Gotham would eventually form, the belief/love her people have in her would had given her a form eventually he just wasn't expecting her to form so soon (this is why Danny remains his favorite person, he always did something CW never really see's to often) nor was he expecting her to become Danny's daughter. Gotham looks a bit like Danny, dark hair, blue eyes, pointed ears, sharp teeth, glowing star like freckles, but she also reflects her people, the ones that call Gotham home so her image shifts sometimes. But he can see small hints of maybe himself and Frostbite in the shifts.

She is 100% Danny's daughter via spirit/ectoplasm. If anything CW and Frostbite are like many times removed family members when it comes down to ectoplasm.

She's silent for a moment before she asks if "You and the other come here often to see him... The one sleeping is he my father?" Which CW does confirm, he explains why Danny is healing and who he and Frostbite are and why they show up to make sure he is doing better. How his healing will take many, many years. She goes silent again before saying "Teach me how to protect him. I am new and young compared to others... and yet I already know if anyone desires him for the power he gives, they will stop at nothing. He is my father and I am his daughter, I need to keep him safe just how I know he would keep me safe. This much I know."

CW agrees.

She learns, from her father's allies (CW, Frostbite, Pandora, etc etc) how to defend and fight. How to protect what she loves. She watches over her father and fights off demon's, monsters, sometimes an alien that senses the slumbering power, evil magic users. Etc. She watches over the town and people who named her as well, falls in love with the humans who call her home as well and defends them as well.

She even gets the blunt force of a curse a powerful old entity that tired to place it on her father after she had just banished it from her lands. It's an old powerful curse that CW or Frostbite can't rid of because it would weaken her far to much that they run the risk of her fading, the only way to get rid of it is if she had a family member feeding her ectoplasim to help sustain her. (Her aunts can't because Jazz isn't ghostly enough and Danielle can't because hers is limited due to being a clone (like she has enough for herself but does need to visit the Infinite Realms during her travels to get more ectoplasim to filter in and out). Danny is their only chance because he's constantly filtering ectoplasim in and out and even creating it because of how he died with a portal opening up at the same time)

The curse slowly starts eating away at Gotham, makes it hard for her to have a solid corporeal form because pain (when she has to use this form to fight off others she has to bare through the pain), her appearance starts changing (eyes turn from sharp ice blue to glowing yellow, skin turns deathly sickly pale, her star freckles slowly blinking in and out, hands become inked claws, her dark hair is unkempt and spills like an oil sludge down her body and face) and because Danny is still healing himself he can't help her and she can't see him all too often anymore because she doesn't want to run the risk of the curse effecting his healing core, she does get updates from the other ghosts that visit him and then her. She still defends him though, outside of his healing chambers should on the rare chance something finds it way down to him.

Eventually due to Danny's and Gotham's natural ectoplasim filtering on the lands, visiting and powerful ghosts, Gotham fighting off powerful beings trying to use her father for power, and the curse on Gotham herself, the town that had been built on the ground above by humans becomes the very city we all know.

Its a whole mixed bag do to so many factors, that's why Gotham is the way it is.

Gotham does her best to keep her people safe from well... everything but due to the curse and the fighting off another person/entity/demon/magic user/etc coming for her father's power, she can't always do much by the time one crisis is over and a new one pops up, she's slowly breaking down the longer it takes.

That's why she has a soft spot for her Dark Knight and his family and allies, they help her from the pain from the curse by trying as both the Wayne's and as the Batclan to fix up her city self, its not enough to really fix her fully but it helps with the pain that eats at her.

She does her best to give them tiny blessings though, but due to her duty of protecting her father she can't always do much (she wept when news of Jason, her second Robin, her rough around the edges bookworm, had died came to her. She couldn't protect him because he was out of her reach. Its why when Joker returned she made it very hard for him to really gain his foothold in her again but had to stop because CW told her if she kept making it too hard for the clown he'd go running off to 'play' with a different hero and that... that timeline would lead the world to ruin. She begrudgingly stopped but when Joker had taken her third Robin, her tiny Tim the one she loved watching shadow her knights, she did everything she could to keep him sane from the pain he had been put in, and lead Batman to the warehouse to save him. Also it turns out her heartbreak over Jason's death, her curse acting up, and her ectoplasim sparking off at the same time it helped bring him back from his grave not fully but somewhat, she was so shocked that she didn't have time to send hints to Bruce to get him when he was taken by Talia and once again out of her reach. She tried hinting it to Bruce that Talia had taken him but by the time he would check on the League, Talia would had moved him)

Gotham, depsite being young in the eyes of many other powerful beings and entities has held her own and kept those that wanted to use her father for power packing. Despite being cursed that is slowly eating her alive she still holds onto the hope her father will awaken and she will finally get to meet him. (She hopes she made him proud, he is a protector spirit core after all and she had been steadfast with keeping him safe all these years).

Things however take a turn for the worse when Gotham awakens from some sort of powerful slumber (she doesn't know what happened?! Did something knock her out?! When did she fall asleep?! Was it magic? Did the curse do it? Did someone or something-) And discovers someone or something had managed to steal her father slumbering core. (So close to healing, so close to awakening according to Frostbite, just a few more days he says. Just. A. Few. More. Days)

She tries to go find him but is suddenly hurting more, her curse has progressed even worse, she can barely stand, let alone fight whoever had her father. And she knows her father's friends won't be back to see her until far later.

And then all of Gotham shakes and shudders when her rage, panic, and terror are felt that early morning.

-×-×-

Deep in the Batcave, Batman and the others are searching for whatever caused that strange almost magical but not (ectoplasm) shudder that morning.

They were expecting a full scale attack. Magical, alien, maybe even all the Rogues in Gotham working together. An all scaled war. They were looking for any signs of it, maybe to by some miracle stop it before it becomes to late.

They however weren't expecting a strange sick looking woman with yellow glowing eyes, oil ink like hair covering her face and body, clawed hands like they had dipped in ink as well, star like freckles blinking in and out on her body and face, sharp ears, breathing heavily and coughing every so often to appear in the cave. Like she had sunk out from the shadows in pure silence. (Even Cass did not hear her)

Nor were they expecting her not to even flinch when they trained their weapons onto her. Instead all she did was laugh, a raspy low laugh, but it held warmth and mirth.

"Now, now my knights... No need for that. I come needing help and you are the only ones I will ever trust with this mission..." her voice was soft but harsh, talking seemed to hurt her though for she had to take deep breaths and suppress a cough. Her eyes trailed across them all, despite her sickly look her eyes gleamed with a motherly warmth in a strange sense, something all of them could feel "I can not hold this corporal form for long. Long story short I am cursed, have been for a very long time and whatever happened to me earlier this morning has aggravated it even more and thus I can not stay in the world of the 'living' to do much. My father, the one I have been protecting since my creation from all sorts of terrible and dangerous things, for should they get a hold of him it could spell the end of life itself for he is that powerful, has been taken from his healing chamber. I do not know who or where but I know he still remains in the city, that much I can sense."

She coughed and took a shuddering breath "But alas I can not go to his aid as I once has been able to, this is where you all come in. I need you to find my father, find his core. Bring him to safety. I had fought so many to keep him safe, to make sure he heals in peace for so long, and he... So close. Just a few more days he needed... then I could had finally had met him."

She lightly muttered those last few words, eyes looking lost for a moment before coughing hard.

"Who are you." Batman, Bruce Wayne, stonely demanded but for some reason he couldn't help but feel like he knows her, like from a foggy memory, and by the looks of his family they all could sense the same thing.

The woman, or whatever she was, merely smiled, sharp teeth bared in it as she looked him right in the eyes and said.

"Gotham, my dear Dark Knight. I am Lady Gotham herself. Its wonderful to finally meet you despite the circumstances."

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #blue rambles #crossover #writing ideas #random idea #batman #danny phantom dc #Lady Gotham #Lady Gotham is Danny's daughter #his ectoplasm her towns people belief and love in her and the natural magic of the world gave 'birth' to her #danny is sleeping for a very long time #CW made him rest on a different world so he didnt have to run the risk of the GIW finding him or 'sleeping' well past his love ones time #this got long but its my brain being weird and coming up with a new AU #none of the bats was expecting Lady Gotham #she needs their help though #she has always wanted to speak with them but her duty in protecting Danny and her curse made it hard #Bruce has questions #like so many #Lady Gotham feels like 'mom' to her favorites #who has Danny?#idk someone #this... this got long #this is what happens when I'm fully allowed to ramble I've been let loose and been allowed gremlin hours #Lady Gotham takes after his human half when she was 'born'

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unabashednightmarepizza · 7 months

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𝐼𝑠𝑒𝑘𝑎𝑖'𝑑 𝐼𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑇𝑒𝑦𝑣𝑎𝑡

Part 2

Life is strange.

You were in your world and doing godforsaken homeworks from your teachers and laying down idly while obsessing over maybe that game you started to obsess over... Then-

Now, seeing yourself in what appeared to be a godly attire in a gameworld that you barely knew wasn't on your list

Besides, how did you even come here?? You weren't actively trying to shift-

"Paimon thinks they are a bit pale..." she said while poking your arm that, surprisingly enough, didn't break or fall off during your fall. Hearing the familiar child voice of her, you widened your eyes and sat up on your hands and knees, letting out a high screech after throwing a comment.

"And Y/N can hear you, whoever you are." you groaned and they both screamed on top of their lungs much like you in fright, hugging each other thightly.

But... Why were you slapping your cheeks?

"This is insane... I didn't think those creepy and weird Isekai anime thing would happen to me!" you mumbled in deep shock, looking around yourself and seeing all the vibrant colors of Teyvat, the ones you were so used to seeing on screen...

Then came another startling thought: There were every kind of monsters, slimes, Hilichurls and even more dangerous and hard-to-kill ones.

Before you could freak out even more Aether, as the sweetheart he was, helped you, with Paimon finding something to burn to warm you up

They wondered how you were here, perhaps you also fell down like him and his sister and now were stuck? Since you looked, and still did, really horrified to find yourself here. But yet again, your looks was much different than anyone he had seen.

Shining bright eyes with sharp star shaped irises... They were mesmerizing, so alluring and so full of wonders, power as if they held the answers to all questions...

Where were you from?

But, apart from your obviously tall body, like really tall, and your star-like eyes which he found to be cute, there was another fact that stood out and made him realize how much trouble he would find himself in:

Your behaviour too which was becoming... concerning the poor boy.

Because who the fuck just kills an entire horde of elementals with just a quick flick of their... hand through sending golden waves singlehandedly with a cute smile and excited skip in their steps? Just how unhinged are you?

So, that was the first time you met the blonde who was way too pretty for a boy Aether and his cute companion Paimon, not that you didn't know them already.

" I think I will die very young, like very young..."

"Nah, you are the main character in this game. If you die, the game is over."

*Cue tripping into the lake headfirst but still managing to breathe with a thumbs up*

You just gave the biggest spoiler to anyone who would understand you but poor Aether, tho he tried to understand your words, didn't know shit about what you said.

Now, obviously, you couldn't tell them everything... That would, what, fuck with the order? The Heavenly Cosmic Rules? Whatever their names were, you really didn't want to anger anyone but also really wished to fuck with people.

Not now tho, you had to stay alive for that one.

But Aether had his own suspicions. He had been around long enough to know that he couldn't trust everyone but yet again... He needed another actual human who he could seek comfort when needed, be sure that they would have his back...

Poor, touch-starved boy ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

And he couldn't lie: You were funny as you tried to grab Paimon and squeeze her thightly to your chest, and even managed to kill a few of the hilichurls that came out of nowhere from behind your group...

Then there was the red tint of his cheeks, when you turned to look at him excitedly( not knowing that this was what you always wanted to do) and seeked his approval as if you needed it.

I mean, you were strong and pretty, a little bit too odd and obsessed with death and never took something serious, always praised him( God knew he needed that) and patted his head, even cooking delicious food that he never heard of before...

....

Exactly what he needed in another company!

"Hey,um, since you also came from another world probably... Whose language and words I absolutely don't understand, how about we stick together? I mean, I-I wouldn't want a woman to be alone, not that you can't take care of yourself, I just saw you-" he stammered nervously, absolutely not wanting to make you uncomfortable. But as you stared at the boy with a blush as his golden eyes looked at everything but you, there was only one single thought:

Hehehe cute ｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡

"No problem, it would actually be amazing since I know nothing about this world!" (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

Lie, not completely but still a lie

But come on, his stutter was cute and besides he needed to have... a human sized companion in case things got so very wrong

Whether you were the human companion or not... Well, was unknown.

The poor, still-innocent Aether was eager to know your story. Where you were from, whether you came from another world like him too, how you used that power you obviously had but you had no idea of having it in the first place...

Poor boi was just so touch-starved, and had been so lonely until he stumbled upon Paimon two months after he woke up and one month later, you.

Besides, Paimon was not affectionate in the way he wished... More like, she was an emergency food~

"For the last time, Paimon is NOT AN EMERGENCY FOOD!"

Oh how you always loved watching her get riled up so easily

You three were each other's everything from now on.

So that was how you started to have adventures while trying hard to not to die. Paimon would offer her funny thoughts while sometimes giving really useful info, Aether would often cook for all three of you until you learnt how to make most of the food known here to help him.

He was already doing a lot by protecting you and making sure that none of the hilichurls were eating you

Though soon, his protection contract you did between the two of you unofficially came to an end when an excited young scout named Amber found you three and brought you to-

"Holy shit, Monstadt is even more beautiful in real life!" you exclaimed excitedly as Amber watched you three run happily, looking at everything in astonishment as if she was the one who created the city, nodding her head proudly at what you said. "The rumors don't do enough justice to us! Of course the real thing is much better!"

Poor girl... If only she knew that this world was actually a game and you were talking about that by saying "in real life".

Or whatver concept it was.

Even though the quality of the game was *chef kiss*, nothing could have prepared you for the gentle breeze that flew past you, how it made you shiver pleasantly as your hair danced around, the air of wine and... freedom filling your every cell.

This was definetly what home felt like.

You might not have enough knowledge about them, with being a new player and all and not having that obsession to know everything about them yet... But there was one thing obvious as your attention was on a certain florist: Her... obsession(?) over a certain redhead was very fucking obvious- was that a jewelry store?

Meanwhile, as Aether was left with a blue haired-cyro user who also had the same star eyes like you, trying to dodge all the flirty and suave comments... He searched for you desperately to get out of the situation he found himself in.

Because even if he was the fighter, you were the talker with a sweet voice and surprisingly very convincing when you wanted to be. Whether you were always like that was a mystery to solve another day.

"Paimon could always ask them! Y/N likes Paimon the best after all, they said so!"

"wHaT? Y/N! IS THAT TRUE, AFTER ALL THE TIME WE SPENT-"

That was the other side of Aether you didn't see much through playing the game. He was more excited and more lively, always running around and helping people while making new friendships whereas Lumine was more well-kept and calm.

Though to him, your and Paimon's friendship meant the most and he would never let you, her or him forget about that.

You three were quite the Trio after all!

Besides, your talent of negotiation worked wonders with him since you decided to use it to braid his hair and force him to sleep.

But if there was one thing he despised about you, which was also the only one, was the attention span of a baby you had whenever you saw something either shiny or cute.

Or someone attractive and hot...

Which showed itself again when he was called upon Kaeya's, the Cavalry Captain's, commands for a "super secret mission" and he wasn't able to flee out.

"The other knights can't know about it! I can't ask for help from any other than you... Please, help me." Aether swore he saw the hint of a smirk on his face-

"What kind of secrecy is this?? And what's with that eyepatch?"

"Well, to be honest my little friend... My great grandfather was a pirate!"

Yep, he better find a way to get out of this soon (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

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vs120shound · 2 months

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We dubbed her SSS'SS' bestowing this nickname in the summer for Sultry Smoking Solène "Super Star" and ain't it the truth? Truly remarkable! An angel who smokes cigarettes living in Paris, France!

SLENDER, TANNED AND SMOKING, SOLÈNE IS 'LOADED FOR BEAR!'

And what percentage of BHYSWs have "whiter" teeth? And what a rockin' tattoo! An immaculate complexion! Stylish hair! Sharp yet subtle jewelry that did not require a month's earnings to purchase! All in casual attire! After all, her nickname is Sultry Smoking Solène "Super Star" for good reason, right?

Dual-Media 83-Post, 470-Pack Ultra-Megapost!

And can any BHYSW handle a cigarette in a more sexy manner? Nearly flawless! Only "constructive criticism" would be that she would not be at the top of the list to become a guest lecturer on the "Stylish, Powerful, Grand and Persistent Exhales" class at any of the world's 3 Smoking Academies. Now would she? Solène is graceful, stylish, playful, serious at other times, friendly, loyal, fun-loving and gorgeous, though few fashion model magazines would describe her nose as a classic example of a desired nose. Beautiful eyes. Pouty lips. Lovely mouth. Wonderful cheekbones. Rugged chin. What does she do for work? In which of the 20 Arrondissements (administrative districts) does she reside in Paris? When did she become a fan of "Les Bleus," the French men's soccer (football) national team from the FFF (Fédération Française de Football). In one of her videos, a match involving "The Blues" is in the background. Did she play the sport and gave it up when her cigarette smoking left an impact on her fitness on and off the field? Some things are more important than other things, no? Does she date a football player? Would she want to? We stray . . . our network named her the Number 1 SF Newcomer of The Year for 2023, edging runner-up Dorine Zopp of Bordeaux, France who was born in Berlingen, Germany and is a fashion model and jewelry designer, and No. 3 teenager or BHYSW in her young-20s Mira Çelik of Turkey, who close to elite status in Yoga!

Most Current Post in Our Family of SSS'SS' Solène of Paris, France!

From vs120shound on February 17, 2024 . . .

SF Newcomer of The Year for 2023! (With Solène earning the No. 1 Spot)

From vs120shound on January 6, 2024 . . .

Our Photographic Tribute to a Soon-to- Be SF Hall of Famer and SF Goddess!

Candidates for future Anchor photographs!

#SF #Hot women who loves smoking cigarettes #Smoking cigarettes #Smoking #Sultry Smoking Solène 'Super Star!'#vs120shound!#lostlighter23!#vs120shound-2!#user0726 of SFK!#Juniorjunior of SFK!#muruk of SFK!

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flowery-laser-blasts · 4 months

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Ron Stoppable Lipsky concept - A Sitch in Time AU

Ok hear me out:

This is my take on a slightly darker themed story. All of this would play out during the 'a sitch in time' special. The villains go to Middleton in the past to disarm their teenage foe by preventing her from ever becoming friends with Ron and in turn training him to become an agent of chaos with only one mission: eliminate Kim Possible.

The team would kidnap Ron, erase all of his memories and start training almost immediately.

Duff Killigan is the first one to drop out upon hearing this plan. He thinks this goes a bit too far: sure getting rid of Kim is nice and all, but kidnapping a wee lad from his parents and brainwashing him? That doesn't sit right with Killigan. Yes, he's world's deadliest golfer, but this has NOTHING to do with golfing.

Monkey Fist is on the other side of the coin: he wants to ensure that Ron will never get his hands on ancient monkey power. He wants to kill the child. That way he'll never become friends with Kim nor obtain monkey powers. Drakken, Shego and Duff object heavily to it and battle ensues. Monkey Fist is outnumbered, Drakken opens a portal to a remote past and Shego kicks Fiske in. Duff takes his chances to save Ron by trying to push Shego in but Drakken notices it, makes Duff trip and follow after Monkey Fist. Now only Dr. Drakken and Shego are left and they go on with the plan.

Ron gets kidnapped, brainwashed, tutored and trained in private by the two of them.

Things have changed quite a bit for both Drakken and Shego. The plan is still top priority but they do find a bit of joy in raising the kid. Drakken and Ron are almost inseparable at this point. At first Drakken was annoyed by the constant questioning of the child, but once Ron showed enthusiasm for Snowman Hank and helping his 'dad' out in the lab, Drakken warmed up, a lot.

Shego had a more calculated approach at the start. Since she has a degree in children's development, she knows how and where to manipulate little Ron. Other than that she started training him young and got a lot of fun out of teaching the boy different fighting techniques and him chopping a wooden plank in half and injuring a henchman at the same time!? Amazing!! As a bonus: the hugging, the "I love you mama"s at bedtime and the surprisingly sweet bouquets of hydrangeas she received for mother's day were very sweet.

The three became an unexpected family.

Ron is a whole different person now. Calculated, sharp and very skilful in fighting. But he also has a softer side to him that comes out when he and Drakken start talking about nerd stuff.

One day, Shego stole a very valuable microchip, one of the last pieces they needed for world domination and like clockwork; Kim Possible appeared at the lair to save the day. However it wasn't the evil megalomaniac and his sidekick she had to fight but, a teenage boy? Wait, she recognised his face!

They fought and for most of it, Kim dodged and analysed her opponent. Ron growing frustrated started to fight more recklessly, giving Kim opportunities to strike. She managed to get back the microchip and got away but not before reassuring Ron that she'll 'help' him.

Shego partially felt like she had failed the training and that this 'mother charade' was to blame for it. The boy was still weak and his weakness affected her over time.

Drakken let it slide. He saw this as a victory because comparing Ron to how he used to be, this was a very close to being the ultimate weapon against the teen hero. The boy needed just a bit more drive and Drakken knew that revenge would be just that.

Drakken sent out Ron to retrieve the once stolen microchip to redeem his previous failure and as extra task: kill the teenage hero.

Ron manages to find Kim alone in her house and they start battling it out. Kim tells him that she has suspicions that he's not who he thinks he is nor are Drakken and Shego. She tells him about the boy that got abducted on the first day of kindergarten, the missing posters and how the entire city was on a wide search for him. Ron gets conflicted over all of this and breaks down. Kim wants to comfort him but gets punched out cold. Ron is about to give a final strike and end her but what she said, he has to know if she was speaking the truth. He finds the microchip and returns home.

Drakken is delighted when his 'son' returns and even more proud to hear that "Kim Possible has been taken care of." Drakken leaps into the air and says that this calls for a doomsday party. Ron says he feels a bit tired and retreats to his bedroom. Later on when everyone's passed out, he starts snooping around and after thorough searching. Ron finds out about the entire plan and the monkey idle. He calls for Kim through her website and she arrives. He tells her what happened and how to fix this until they get disturbed by Drakken and Shego.

The four of them battle it out with both parties hurt by this betrayal. In the end the money idle shatters and brings everything back to the status quo.

QUESTIONS I IMAGINE SOME OF YOU HAVE

"Kim and Ron lost at the start of the special because they lived far apart from one another, how would this play out here?" Easy, Drakken managed to disrupt the kimmunicator signal connected to Wade before, who says he can't do it again? Señior Senior Senior also managed to find Wade's home address so it won't be hard to find him and destroy all his tech. That way, Kim won't know where the villains are.

"But wouldn't present Kim stop them by going back in time?" No, she can't. There is no supreme one in this story, so Rufus 3000 (Kim's key to time travel) has likely a happy life OR doesn't exist. Besides the villains won't interfere with her memories from that day. They make sure not to get spotted by little Kim at all. Soon enough the timeline changes and Kim won't remember meeting Ron at all.

"But will Kim still be a hero? Ron convinced her to take on her first mission after all!" I'd say yes! Kim was always destined to be a hero. She might get more cries for help from people in need. I mean, when in crisis people might make mistakes writing to team Impossible. Kim wouldn't be able to ignore these requests because people are in danger and she feels the need to help.

"Won't Dr. Drakken and Shego be very old by the time Ron caught up in age?" Sitch in time's final act was a 20 years future gap and going from past to present is around 7 years + if they really care about appearances, they can still use the juvinator that Drakken has.

"Where are past Drakken and Shego? Won't they ruin the plan?" Like in sitch in time they would've probably convinced their past selves to go along with the plan. So let's say this is the timeline present day and past Drakgo:

- Drakgo goes to past, explains the plan to their past selves including the importance of the monkey idle and where to find it and secure it before past monkey fist gets his hands on it.

- Co-exist and follow the plans. They got double the ammunition for world take over and present day Drakken points out flaws in past Drakken's designs and plans.

- Once they caught up to present day, team past goes back in time to repeat the cycle (this time without Monkey Fist and Duff).

Hope you like this little concept!!

Special thanks to @creatorping for discussing the design with me!

#kim possible #kimpossible #kim possible sitch in time #dr drakken #drakken #shego #drdrakken #drakgo #dr. drakken #drakken x shego #shegoxdrakken #evil ron stoppable #ronstoppable #ron stoppable #duff killigan #duffkilligan #monkeyfist #monkey fist #lord monty fiske

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thebunnybooknook · 9 months

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Books that Deserve to be Inducted into 'Girlblogger' Coquette Canon

Perfume: The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Suskind

In the slums of eighteenth-century France, the infant Jean-Baptiste Grenouille is born with one sublime gift—an absolute sense of smell. As a boy, he lives to decipher the odors of Paris, and apprentices himself to a prominent perfumer who teaches him the ancient art of mixing precious oils and herbs. But Grenouille’s genius is such that he is not satisfied to stop there, and he becomes obsessed with capturing the smells of objects such as brass doorknobs and fresh-cut wood. Then one day he catches a hint of a scent that will drive him on an ever-more-terrifying quest to create the “ultimate perfume”—the scent of a beautiful young virgin. Told with dazzling narrative brilliance, Perfume is a hauntingly powerful tale of murder and sensual depravity.

Jane & Prudence by Barbara Pym

This early novel by Barbara Pym captures the charm and folly of English middle-class life. The two title characters share a devoted friendship based on memories of Oxford school days, poetry and their neighbors' private affairs- all discussed over leisurely lunches. And they share a common goal: finding a suitable mate for Prudence.

Prozac Nation by Elizabeth Wurtzel

Elizabeth Wurtzel writes with her finger in the faint pulse of an overdiagnosed generation whose ruling icons are Kurt Cobain, Xanax, and pierced tongues. In this famous memoir of her bouts with depression and skirmishes with drugs, Prozac Nation is a witty and sharp account of the psychopharmacology of an era for readers of Girl, Interrupted and Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar.

Tiny Pretty Things by Sona Charaipotra & Dhonielle Clayton

Gigi, Bette, and June, three top students at an exclusive Manhattan ballet school, have seen their fair share of drama. Free-spirited new girl Gigi just wants to dance—but the very act might kill her. Privileged New Yorker Bette's desire to escape the shadow of her ballet-star sister brings out a dangerous edge in her. And perfectionist June needs to land a lead role this year or her controlling mother will put an end to her dancing dreams forever. When every dancer is both friend and foe, the girls will sacrifice, manipulate, and backstab to be the best of the best.

The Nun by Denis Diderot

Diderot's The Nun (La Religieuse) is the seemingly true story of a young girl forced by her parents to enter a convent and take holy orders. A novel mingling mysticism, madness, sadistic cruelty and nascent sexuality, it gives a scathing insight into the effects of forced vocations and the unnatural life of the convent. A succès de scandale at the end of the eighteenth century, it has attracted and unsettled readers ever since. For Diderot's novel is not simply a story of a young girl with a bad habit; it is also a powerfully emblematic fable about oppression and intolerance.

The Blacker the Berry by Wallace Thurman

"The tragedy of her life was that she was too black," declares the narrator at the start of this powerful novel of intraracial prejudice. Emma Lou Morgan lives in a world of scorn and shame, not because her skin is black, but because it's too black. No one among her family, teachers, and friends has a word of consolation or hope for the despised and rejected girl. With nothing to lose, eighteen-year-old Emma Lou leaves her home in Idaho, seeking love and acceptance on a journey that ultimately leads her to the legendary community of the Harlem Renaissance. A source of controversy upon its 1929 publication, The Blacker the Berry was the first novel to openly address color prejudice among black Americans. Author Wallace Thurman, an active member of the Harlem Renaissance, vividly recaptures the era's mood and spirit. His portrait of a young woman adrift in the city forms an enduringly relevant reflection of the search for racial, sexual, and cultural identity.

The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison

In Morrison’s acclaimed first novel, Pecola Breedlove—an 11-year-old Black girl in an America whose love for its blond, blue-eyed children can devastate all others—prays for her eyes to turn blue: so that she will be beautiful, so that people will look at her, so that her world will be different. This is the story of the nightmare at the heart of her yearning, and the tragedy of its fulfillment.

Innocents by Cathy Coote

Written when Cathy Coote was nineteen, Innocents is a taut, wickedly clever descent into the anatomy of an obsession, the debut of a precociously assured and provocative young literary voice. Forcing someone vulnerable and naive into a sexual relationship to satisfy a twisted desire is perverted, even evil. But when the perpetrator is a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl, is she culpable? And if the victim is her thirty-four-year-old teacher, shouldn't he have known better? When the nameless young narrator of Innocents decides to seduce her teacher, she immediately realizes that the power of her sexuality is greater than she ever imagined. She leaves the aunt and uncle who are her guardians and moves in with her teacher; together, they quickly embark on a journey into their darkest desires. Unforgettable, disturbing, and morally complex, Innocents permanently unsettles our notions of innocence, experience, and power, and suggests that we all are culpable.

The Torn Skirt by Rebecca Godfrey

At Mt. Douglas (a.k.a. Mt. Drug) High, all the girls have feathered hair, and the sweet scent of Love's Baby Soft can't hide the musk of raw teenage anger, apathy, and desire. Sara Shaw is a girl full of fever and longing, a girl looking for something risky, something real. Her only possible salvation comes in the willowy form of the mysterious Justine, the outlaw girl in the torn skirt. The search for Justine will lead Sara on a daring odyssey into an underworld of hookers and johns, junkies and thieves, runaway girls and skater boys, and, ultimately, into a violent tragedy.

Bonjour Tristesse by Francoise Sagan

Endearing, self-absorbed, seventeen-year-old Cécile is the very essence of untroubled amorality. Freed from the stifling constraints of boarding school, she joins her father—a handsome, still-young widower with a wandering eye—for a carefree, two-month summer vacation in a beautiful villa outside of Paris with his latest mistress. Cécile cherishes the free-spirited moments she and her father share, while plotting her own sexual adventures with a "tall and almost beautiful" law student. But the arrival of her late mother's best friend intrudes upon a young girl's pleasures. And when a relationship begins to develop between the adults, Cécile and her lover set in motion a plan to keep them apart...with tragic, unexpected consequences.

#coquette #coquette aesthetic #bunnyburrow

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eezeybreezy · 10 months

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ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴜɴᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴀᴛ ➜ʜᴏʙɪᴇ ʙʀᴏᴡɴ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

I have fallen to the Hobie brain rot and this is the result. This was a lot longer than intended so now it's broken into multiple chapters! Lmk if I should post those too or if this is too cringe. Part 2, Part 3, Part 4🔞

warnings: suggestive, not-so-accurate accent, recreational drug/alcohol use, partying, punk shit, eventual smut?

As they entered the headquarters, the pair were met with a cacophony of sound and movement. People in spider suits and uniforms hurried to and fro, carrying files, and talking urgently on their phones or to each other. Clearly, this was a place of importance, filled with sensitive work and decisions.

The first was a young woman, her hair pulled back into a high ponytail and dressed in a long, flowing maxi skirt in earthy tones, paired with a crochet top. Adorned with beads or other natural details, she walked confidently, looking around with a sharp eye and taking in every detail. The second was a young man, his steps a little slower and his gaze mellow. He was dressed in a concoction of ripped fabrics, belts, and buttons, his studded vest and chunky boots a signature in the halls they walked.

"Wow," breathed the woman, taking in the bustling scene. "I knew this was a big deal, but I had no idea.."

The man chuckled. "Told you it was the real deal."

The Spider you’d come to know was none other than Hobie Brown, a stand-out among his peers and variants alike. You’d only met after being rounded up as an anomaly, though you’d come to the HQ willingly, as any means to getting home was better than being stranded in some uppity renaissance dimension. After learning of your role as the Black Cat in your world, the punk had found a new friend in an unexpected place.

“Hm…” Hobie peered at you absentmindedly, seemingly turning something over in his head.

You didn’t like that look, and knowing the kinds of ideas an anarchist could come up with, you decide to pry, “What’s up?”

Hobie finally looked at you and not through you, “How did you get those abilities bruv like, I was bit by a radioactive spider so I have spider DNA in me, but how’d you get ‘em?”

“Hear me out, a cat bit me. But she wasn’t radioactive or anything, actually quite sweet.”

“Wait wait wait, you ‘ere bitten… by a cat? And you now have abilities like me??”

You giggled at this, he’s dumbfounded over a cat but a radioactive spider giving powers is the norm around here. “I don’t know about ‘like you’ per say.’

“Aight, maybe not exactly like me, but it’s similar yeah? You have wall-crawling abilities I presume or am I wrong? And probably enhanced strength?”

Why the sudden interest in my abilities, you thought. “I mean I do have enhanced strength and speed, but I can only climb up walls with my claws, I don’t stick like you all do,” referring to the bustling crowd of Spider-people you found yourself in the presence of.

“I see, then I have one last question… What does your suit look like? I’m proper curious ‘bout that.”

Now this was unexpected, not only was he interested in your powers, but your alter ego altogether. In the few months, you’ve been friends, little was spoken about your homeworld, let alone the role you play in that dimension. You wonder what’s gotten him so interested, and so you decide to tease a little, getting Hobie Brown flustered was something very few could boast.

“You ever been to a BDSM club? It’s like a leather dominatrix suit

“…” “That’s… huh.”

“Problem ‘Obie?” You poke at him playfully, gliding to stand closer to the slender man.

“Not at all… can’t say I’m not confused though…” he trailed off. “But hey, as your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man it’s not my problem that you have an… um… interesting taste in fashion.”

That got a snort out of you, “You’re one to talk about ‘interesting taste in fashion’, Mr. Spider Punk.”

A sigh comes from the taller man. “Fine. You win.”

Deciding to toy with him further, you play nonchalant and petty, “If I’m so annoying I’ll just leave then. I enjoyed meeting you Punk.”

“Oi oi, I didn’t mean to insult you, I swear… I'll be 'onest wiv ya, mate. I don't really know what I'm doin' 'ere. I'm just takin' it one day at a time and seein' where it takes me.” He looked up from the ground to look at you again, something sad in his eyes. “Life's a funny old game, ain't it?"

“The rockstar runway model is bad with people? Color me shocked”

Hobie let out a huff of air, which you could only assume mimicked a laugh, “Is that meant to be an insult or genuine criticism?”

“I was being serious Hobie, you seem to have a good handle on people. You’re just so cool I thought maybe you’d have it down by now” Despite wanting to crawl into a hole at your admission, you said it with your chest, and you’re not about to back out now.

He’s quite surprised by this, not anticipating such a blatant compliment from you. “Huh… you’re actually pretty rad yourself. Most people don’t think that and just call me a freak.”

“I mean I’d say I’ma freak too but that hasn’t gotten me any complaints if you know what I mean.” You say with a wink, deciding to lay it on thick.

He smirks at you, catching the vibes you're putting down quickly. “Oh, I understand what you mean. I just didn’t expect you to be this forward luv.”

“What’s the phrase? ‘You miss 100% something something-”

“You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take?”

“Yeah yeah somethin like that”, you past your giggles. “You tryna get out of here?”

Hobie looks at you almost sideways, and if you didn’t know him better, you’d be put off by the glare. “Get out of here and do what exactly? What’re you planning?” He takes a step towards you, covering more ground than you’d anticipated due to his long strides. He was so close.

“I’m not dumb, I can tell you’re trying to trick me into something, but I’m not quite sure what…”

You smile at that, despite telling the truth, he’d managed to tease you in the process. We’re in the clear. “No trick here, not today at least.”

You look at him through thick lashes, “Did you have any ideas Spidey?” you ask coyly.

The punk chuckles,

“Ah, the ol’ playing coy shtick ‘uh? Not that I have anything against it, honest with you I kinda like it.”

Your tone is drenched in sarcasm, “Me? Coy? What kind of women do you take me for?” You’re feigning being offended, and he continues your banter. He laughs in a friendly way, deeply and honestly, a sound you wish was heard more often by the masses.

“Oh trust me you’re not like the other girls. You’re cool.”

“I’m not like other girls,” you say mockingly, trying to keep him amused. “So, what’s the punk down to do?”

Hobie’s face lights up with excitement, “I know just the place. Ever been to a punk rock show? There’s always tons of wankers to hang out with and it’s basically a Beano with loud ass music.”

You’d know about Spider-Man in front of you’s reputation, his subtle flex of eclectic success was something you’d come to admire about him. “I’ve had my fair share of underground events, though I’d call myself more goth than punk, you ever been to a goth club? I’m down to go to one of your shows if the anarchist is down to do some substances with me.”

He perked up at this. “Hell yeah, I’d be down, I love partying. Although, can I ask what kind of… substances you’re planning on using? I wanna make sure I bring the right shit.”

“Fuck no nothing hard, just weed and drinks will do it for me. That’s pretty stereotypical punk shit tho huh?”

“Yeah, well stereotypes exist for a reason. Though the whole ‘punks are stoners’ stereotype always bothers me, I never got why people think punk = drug abuse…” He shrugs.

The hair feels heavier, don’t kill the mood now! “ Well I do love me some weed, and hell yeah it’d be great to drink with you and have fun.” You keep going, hoping to bring that light back to the spider that was there but a moment ago. “I think the whole stereotype thing is stupid, but I totally understand why it doesn’t make sense to you, hating labels and all that.” You punctuate the end of your sentence with a punch to his shoulder.

“Alright, lead the way ‘Obie!”

He chuckles a bit at that, and playfully shoves you back into the portal he’s opened. You always land on your feet as you enter his dimension with a thud. He’s crouched next to you, standing to take off his mask and tuck his suit away.

“What was that for huh? I know you can punch ‘arder than that.”

He closes the portal and starts walking towards the club, throwing you a glance over his shoulder. He beckons you to follow. “It’s just up this way, hopefully, there won’t be too big of a crowd.” His guard is down now, it’s just you and Hobie Brown, not Spider-Punk and Black Cat, just two “civs” kickin it.

“If you’re down to spar I can show you more than a little punch Bee.” You send a wink at Hobie, hoping the new nickname didn’t make him uncomfortable. “And hey! I thought you were a celebrity, don’t get special treatment even in the underground huh?”

Hobie smirks at that, “Hah. You’re funny.” He peers down at you, despite your above-average stature. “So you wanna spar then? Because now I’m very tempted to see what you can do.” He’s being cheeky, you can hear it in his tone.

Oh, this man was dangerous, and you can’t help the sly smile that makes its way to your face. “Oh, I’d love to show you everything I can do.” You’re sultry now, biting your lip as you gaze up at him.

“Damn, you’re a cocky little cat huh?” He shakes his head laughing, but can’t hide the big smirk forming on his face.

“Don’t think I won’t accept your challenge, because I will…”

“Oh? Is that so? What’s the punk challenging me to do exactly?” You step closer, still looking up at the man, with a smug grin on your face.

“Oh, I think you know…” He smirks at you and steps closer. “Or should I remind you?”

You grab him by his guitar strap, pulling him down until your lips almost touch. “It must’ve slipped my mind, Bert.” You emphasize his name teasingly.

Despite the way your eyelids flutter shut, and how your lips seem to draw each other in, he chuckles and gives you a quick kiss on the lips, still very clearly smug.

“I’m glad I could remind you.”

#hobie brown #hobie x reader #atsv hobie #hobie x you #spider punk #across the spiderverse #atsp spoilers

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happyk44 · 1 year

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The world froze as a dog’s howl pierced the air somewhere behind the Titan’s army. It was too much to hope but Percy called out, “Mrs. O’Leary?”

The enemy forces stirred uneasily. They began to part, clearing a path through the street like something behind them was forcing them to. Soon there was a free aisle down the center of Fifth Avenue. Standing at the end of the block was Percy’s giant dog, a small figure in black armor and a slightly larger figure crackling with electricity.

Percy’s heart stumbled in his chest. “Nico?”

“ROWWF!” Mrs. O’Leary bounded towards him, ignoring the monsters on either side of her. Meanwhile, Nico continued forward. The enemy army fell back as though he radiated death. Jason was at his side, becoming more and more recognizable as he approached. His mouth was matted with golden blood. It stained his skin.

Through the face guard of his skull-shaped helmet, Nico smiled. “Got your message. Is it too late to join the party?”

Percy’s heart skipped a beat as he glanced at Jason, growling low. “I thought Jason was supposed to be doing something else?”

Nico drew his hand up to Jason’s face. “He completed his task in record time.” He turned to Kronos. The tone of his voice was chillingly breezy. “You remember your brother, Grandfather? Krios. Jason eviscerated him just moments ago.”

At the sound his name, Jason turned his bloodstained body to face the Titan still on his chariot.

The shock that slid over Kronos’s golden eyes was almost funny. His lips turned back into an ugly sneer. His hand tightened on his scythe. “Son of Hades,” he hissed. “Do you love death so much you wish to experience it?”

Jason growled. Lightning licked the earth around him. For a moment, Kronos almost looked worried. It sent a shock of confidence through Percy’s core, even as the campers behind him, even as Annabeth at his side, faltered nervously at the sight.

Nico held a hand out. “Your death,” he said, “would be great for me. And as Jason’s already proven, you and your kind will easily perish.”

He withdrew his sword - black as a nightmare. With the motion, the ground rumbled. Cracks appeared in the road, the sidewalks, the sides of buildings. Skeletal hands grasped the air as the dead clawed their way into the world of the living. There were thousands of them, and as they emerged, the Titan’s monsters got jumpy and started to back up.

“HOLD YOUR GROUND!” Kronos demanded. “The dead are no match for us!”

The sky turned dark and cold. Shadows thickened. A harsh war horn sounded. As the dead soldiers formed up ranks with their guns and swords and spears, an enormous chariot roared down Fifth Avenue. It came to a stop next to Nico and Jason. The horses were living shadows. The chariot was inlaid with obsidian and gold, decorated with scenes of painful death. Holding the reins was Hades himself, Lord of the Dead, with Demeter and Persephone riding behind him.

Hades wore black armour and a clock the colour of fresh blood. On top of his ink-black hair was the helm of darkness, a crown that radiated pure terror. Just looking at sent chills down Percy’s spine. It changed shape as he watched: a dragon’s head to a circle of black flames to a wreath of human bones. It reached into his mind, pulling forth his worst nightmares and fears. He wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. It was only obvious the enemy army felt the same way from the way they were shuffling, only remaining in place by Kronos’s power and authority.

Behind him, Demeter and Persephone were decked in armour as well, though Persephone matched her husband more closely. Where her mother’s armour was as gold as wheat, Persephone’s was blacker than sky. A silver diadem of roses laid across her head. She carried a wicked sharp sword, Stygian Iron like Nico’s, but it glinted bloodred in the sun. In Demeter’s hands, she held a scythe. Something about it made the air cold. Like winter was coming.

Hades smiled coldly. “Hello, Father. You’re looking… young.”

“Hades,” Kronos growled. “I hope you and the lades have come to pledge your allegiance.”

“The ladies?” Demeter snapped. The air within the first few feet of her dropped by several degrees. A light layer of frost rose slid across the pavement under her chariot. “I am your daughter, you body-stealing cretin. This is why I helped kill you last time.”

Persephone grinned wildly. The flowers on her chariot bloomed. “Hello, Grandfather! We’ve never met before, but I’m excited to watch you die!”

Hades’s laugh was chilling to hear. It resounded loud across the air. The enemy army shuddered at the sound. It broke right down into Percy’s veins. Even Kronos stilled. Persephone only beamed wider.

“I’m afraid we are not here to join your side,” Hades said. “My son here convinced me that perhaps I should prioritize my list of enemies.” He glanced at Percy with genuine distaste. “As much as I dislike certain upstart demigods, it would not do for Olympus to fall. I would miss bickering with my siblings. And if there is one thing we agree on, it is that you were a terrible father.”

“True,” Demeter huffed. There was a cold glint in her eyes. “No appreciation for agriculture.”

“Mother!” Persephone groaned, but Hades’s lips quirked upwards.

Hades drew his sword - the same double-edged Stygian blade Percy remembered presenting to him months before, although now it was complete, etched with silver and haunting. “I will say, I’ve always envied our youngest brother. Watching you die has always been my dream.”

Demeter raised her scythe. “Then we’ve been having the same dream, brother.”

For a moment, a genuine flash of fear showed in Kronos’ eyes. Quickly he steeled himself, snarling, viciously, “I don’t have time for this!”

He slammed the ground with his scythe before either of his children could finish their attacks. A crack spread in both directions. It circled the Empire State Building. A wall of force shimmered along the fissure line, separating Kronos’s vanguard, Percy, and those closest to him from the bulk of the two armies.

“What’s he doing?” Percy muttered.

“Sealing us in,” Thalia whispered. She turned to where Jason was hunched over low to the grounds, hands clawed. “He’s collapsing the magic barriers around Manhattan, cutting off just the building, and us.”

Outside the barrier, car engines revved back to life. Pedestrians woke up and stared uncomprehendingly at the monsters and zombies all around them. No telling what they saw through the Mist, but it had to be plenty scary. Car doors opened. At the end of the block, Paul and Sally emerged from their Prius.

Panic spiked Percy’s chest. “No. Don’t…”

From Sally’s expression, she understood how dire things were. Percy hoped she would have the sense to run, but instead she said something to Paul and began running straight towards him. His voice trapped in his throat. A positive, he didn’t want to cause Kronos to divert his attention to her. But fear clawed its way, ugly and heated, throughout him as he watched her dodge crevices in the pavement and guide Paul around weapons and monsters.

Lightning slammed the earth. Percy snapped to attention, eyes flicking to Thalia then past her at the barrier where Jason had just thrown himself at the barrier. He stumbled back, but, undeterred, threw himself at the barrier again. It was almost enchanting to watch. Winds stormed around him like a mini tornado. Electricity crackled against his skin. With every slam, the sky thundered.

And Kronos seemed that much more worried.

Hades blasted the wall with black energy and roared, “ATTACK!”

The armies of the dead clashed with the Titan’s monsters. Fifth Avenue exploded into absolute chaos. Mortals screamed and ran for cover. Demeter waved her hand and an entire column of giants turned into a wheat field. She spun her scythe towards a group of cowering mortals and blew them out of danger with a blast of winter wind. Persephone laughed, delighted. She changed the dracaenae’s spears into sunflowers. Nico slashed and hacked his way through the enemy. He guarded fleeing pedestrians as best he could. Meanwhile, Sally and Paul continued to run towards Percy, dodging monsters with every step.

“Nakamura,” Kronos said. “Attend me. Giants.” He looked down at Percy and sneered. “Deal with them.”

Then he vanished into the lobby.

For a second, Percy was stunned. He’d been expecting more of a fight. Not a blatant dismal. Like he wasn’t worth the time. Rage hit him like a storm. When the first giant smashed at him with his club, Percy rolled between his legs and stabbed him in the ass. He shattered into a pile of ice shards. The second giant breathed frost at Annabeth, but Grover pulled her out of the way, while Thalia sprinted up the giant’s back like a gazelle and sliced her hunting knives across his monstrous blue neck.

Outside the magic barrier, Nico was fighting towards Sally and Paul. Hades barked an order at Jason that Percy could barely hear under the thundering fall of the giant Thalia had slaughtered, but whatever he said, had Jason sprinting, faster than light, towards Nico’s side. He grabbed a monster and ripped it apart with his bare hands.

Thalia landed by Percy’s side with heavy breaths. She followed his line of sight and exhaled sharply.

Jason was his own mess of violence. Monsters and friends alike cowered before him. Mortals screamed more in terror at the sight of him than anything else that was happening. Once he reached Nico’s side, he was like a guard dog. He darted around Nico and caught an enemy demigod’s throat between his teeth. Blood spurted as he tore out their jugular, then threw them away with one hand. Their sword clattered to the ground as their body slammed into the barrier.

Thalia’s breath hitched.

Percy was so mesmerized by the horror of a one-man killing machine he almost didn’t notice that his mom had arrived, Paul at her side. Paul grabbed the sword from the demigod Jason had murdered and stabbed an oncoming dracaena in the gut.

“Paul?” Percy said bewildered.

So many things were happening right now - Hades had arrived with reinforcement to turn the tide of this battle, Kronos had just run off, a wolf child was tearing monsters and people with his teeth, Paul had just expertly killed a monster.

Paul grinned as he turned to Percy. “I hope that was a monster! I was a Shakesperian actor in college! Picked up a little swordplay!”

Percy could’ve laughed, but a Laistrygonian giant was charging towards Sally at top speed. Her bac turned, she was rummaging through the open door of an abandoned police car. Fear vomited through Percy’s mouth as he screamed, “MOM!”

She whirled around, just as the monster was almost on top of her. But instead she cranked the pump and a shotgun blast blew the monster twenty feet backwards, right into Nico’s sword. Enraged, Jason howled and launched himself at the next one, eviscerating it, before quickly returning to Nico’s side.

“Nice one,” Paul said, a little distant as he glanced down at Jason nervously.

“When did you learn to fire a shotgun?”

Sally blew the hair out of her face. “About two seconds ago. Percy, we’ll be fine. Go!”

“Yes,” Nico agreed. “We’ll handle the army. You have to get Kronos.” He lifted up his sword and grinned. “We got this, Percy.”

“Okay,” Percy breathed as he stepped back, stopped only by Thalia grabbing his hand.

She was watching Jason with wide watery eyes. Nico followed her gaze and shook his head. “He’s fine!” he insisted. “He can handle himself.”

Jason proved as much by shredding an entire group from the enemy army with one decisive wave of his hand. The air pressure slamming down exploded them into bits. An unbothered air rolled about him. He crouched low to the ground and growled.

“He’s fine,” Nico repeated. “Please. Thalia.” She turned to him. “You have to go.”

Percy pulled on her hand. For a moment, she refused. And then, quietly, she went. As Percy ran after her, he called out to Mrs. O’Leary to search for Chiron in the rubble. And as he, Thalia, Grover and Annabeth ran into the building, they paused in the destroyed doorway to look behind them at the war ensuing. Sally was blasting away at monsters. Paul was hacking and slashing. Nico was shouting orders to skeletal soldiers.

And Jason was a force of blinding light, tearing everyone else to pieces like they were nothing but toys to play with.

Thalia shivered. Annabeth and Grover glanced at Percy but he just grabbed Thalia’s hand and turned, racing towards the elevators. They could get into who and what Jason was later.

–

Percy watched his dad walk towards his throne, with an amused grin and little wink. Before she ascended to her throne beside her husband, Hera waved her hand. A simple stone guest chair appeared at the foot of the hearth. Hades brustled past Percy towards it but didn’t sit on it yet, gazing past Percy through the open doorway of the throne room.

With a gentle smile, Hestia glanced up at her little brother. Demeter passed him on her way to the throne and gave a quiet acknowledging nod. Even Poseidon patted his shoulder brotherly before he sat down on his throne. However, Zeus only looked annoyed.

“Do you wish to continue standing, brother?”

Hades rolled his eyes. “I’m waiting for my son. The rest of your brood are here. Only seems fitting mine should be as well.”

A floral scent emerged from nearby. Percy glanced over his shoulder to see Persephone walk in, looking slightly frazzled. She grimaced and mouthed an apology. Behind her, he could hear Nico arguing with someone. The acrid stench of electricity filled everyone’s nose. The other gods paused in what they were doing as Nico approached, his lips thinned. Alongside him, Jason fussed over him. For the most part, he was clean. There were still stains of blood in his blonde hair, but it was gone from his clothes, hands, and mouth. Strangely, he was devoid of any wounds. But he was trying to lick at Nico’s healing cuts and growled every time Nico swatted at him.

He kept walking towards his father, but his footsteps shook with every beat once he passed through the doorway. Attuned to the change, Jason’s posture turned as well. He bared his teeth at everyone they passed by, tensed and angry.

“I’m sorry,” Nico said to his father. “I tried to get him to go home with Persephone but he was refusing.”

As though on instinct, Jason dropped to his butt by Hades’ chair. Hades ignored Nico’s apology to sweep his hair back from his face instead. Then he pushed Nico down by the shoulder. Nico crossed his legs over one another, settling beside Jason who was laying down on the ground, watching everyone else warily, but less tense now that Nico was with his dad. Hades himself sat down.

It was clear he was pretending he didn’t notice Zeus staring down at him in abject horror. A mixture of anger and disgust flustered across his face.

Voice thin, he pushed himself up. “Hades, why do you have my son with you?”

Not looking at him, Hades glanced down at Jason and pet his hair absentmindedly. Jason leaned into the touch, rumbling low in his chest. “I would argue that he is with my son, rather than with me.”

“Jason?” Hera said faintly.

The situation was tense as could be. The air around them all was supercharged. They had just exited one war, and it seemed like another was fast on the horizon. Zeus descended from his throne to approach. A thunderous rage built like a storm in his eyes. Jason tensed, rising up to all fours, beside sliding back onto the tips of his toes. A low growl rolled from his throat, a warning.

Hades’s eyes flickered up to face him. Then he stood quietly and shifted to the side, shielding Nico from view. Percy couldn’t blame him. Zeus had already tried to kill Nico once.

He’d be damned if he tried again.

“He,” Zeus began, quiet and testy, “is not supposed to be here.”

“And yet he is,” Hades mused. “He could be dead, if you’d prefer.”

This time it wasn’t Zeus that spoke, but Hera. “What?”

Hades didn’t turn to her when he responded. His gaze remained firmly on his youngest brother, his stance hardened, protective. “They asked me to help kill him, I offered him a home instead, they accepted, and here we are.”

Zeus laughed, bitter. “They would never-”

“When has a child raised by wolves ever been returned to the human world in a way that doesn’t breed fear?” Hades snapped before Zeus could finish. “A child of yours is no more special than anyone else’s. He was a terror. They wanted him gone.” His voice lowered. “I found it quite funny, actually. All that talk about how my children were a danger to everyone else, best to be culled-” The word stung the air with a tremendous force. “-before they came into themselves, and it was yours who proved to be as such.”

It was so fast, Percy almost missed it. Zeus had raised his hand - to slap Hades or blast him. But Jason threw himself forward in such a blinding rage that Zeus stumbled back. Shadowy tendrils emerged from Hades’s cloak. They snapped forward and caught Jason before he could sink his teeth into his father’s throat, before he could sink his outstretched hands into his father’s bare skin and rip.

To his credit, Zeus had the sense to take a few steps back. Hades clicked his tongue and Jason relaxed. The shadowy leash dispelled as Jason eased backwards, crouched low all the while. His eyes never strayed from his father. He let out a loud snarl, almost like a bark. Lightning glowed across his skin. Faint winds whipped across his hair. His teeth remained bared.

Stay back, he was saying. Or I’ll kill you.

Percy remembered how he’d appeared, covered in golden blood. It was meant to be a thought, kept quiet to himself to speculate aloud later when the situation wasn’t so charged, but instead his seaweed brain faltered and he blurted out, “Who’s Krios?”

Zeus whipped to face him, face reddened with fury, and he wished he’d said nothing at all.

Hades sat down with a quiet laugh. Poseidon clasped his hands together. “He’s our uncle,” he said slowly, as though picking his words carefully.

Percy was content to keep it at that, ready to just get this meeting over with and go home. But Thalia stepped forward, breathing shakily. Zeus looked more pissed off. Thalia ignored him. “Jason killed Krios. How come we didn’t see him do that? Where was he?” She gripped her hands into tight fists and steeled her voice. “Where has he been?”

The gods glanced around themselves. Artemis cleared her throat. “Thalia-”

“There is a Roman camp,” Hades said. Everyone’s gazes snapped to him. Their eyes were wide with shock. Hestia giggled and he grinned at her. Quickly, Persephone crossed the room, glaring briefly at her father, before settling herself on Hades’s knee. “For Roman demigods. Jason is not the son of Zeus. He is the son of Jupiter. Same person, different priorities.”

Zeus’s entire body was trembling now. “You-”

“Me,” Hades agreed. He shrugged. “I always thought it was dumb to separate the two. The problem didn’t come from petty rivalries but the idea that they were different to begin with. I am no better than Pluto and he is no better than me. Jason is no better than her-” He gestured at Thalia. “-and she is no better than him.” He placed his hand on Persephone’s hip, steadying her. “If anything there’s value in the differences.”

Thalia bore no mind to her father’s shaking form. “And the wolves?”

“The Roman children are taught by wolves, by Lupa. Jason was too young, stayed too long. It changed him as it would any child his age. When the camp received him, they couldn’t manage him. They wanted him gone but failed to do so themselves. I was summoned as a next step. I didn’t see the value in killing him. Besides, I quite like dogs.” Thalia bristled but didn’t react. “I did agree to hand him back when requested.

“While you fought here, they fought their own battle. He killed Krios as requested, and when he was done, he came home.” His lips twitched. “As you can see, he’s quite attached to your cousin, as well as myself and my wife. Refused to stay behind if we were going. Since he’s here, there’s really no sense in hiding his origins any longer. He completed his great purpose, after all, the reason behind his secrecy. And as much as certain people in the room enjoy trying to kill their nephews-” He turned his gaze back to Zeus, voice incredibly bleak. “-I have little interest in killing mine.” He glanced at Percy from the corner of his eye. “Well, it depends on the nephew, I suppose.”

Percy ignored the flash of fear that squirmed in his stomach like flopping fish.

A Roman camp…

He supposed it made some kind of sense. Greco-Roman was the name. Didn’t they go hand in hand, written in and out of each other? And they’d met Janus the year before, hadn’t they? He was Roman, and Percy hadn’t questioned his existence.

“So! Little brother.” Hades leaned forward, gave a roll of his hand. “I believe there were things you wanted to say.”

“Yes, Zeus,” Hestia chimed in. “Please get started.”

Her voice was so soft and kind. Zeus softened with every word. His gaze hardened as he raised it back to Hades, but without further complaint, he rose to his throne and sat back down. Thalia took a step back, exhaling shakily as Zeus called the Olympian Council convened and began his long-winded speech. Persephone smiled from Hades’s lap and ran her hand through Jason’s hair. He laid his chin on Hades’s other knee, keeping a careful watch on Zeus all the while.

A fact that did not go unnoticed by the rest of the people in the room.

–

“So. A Roman camp, huh?” Percy leaned against his cabin wall. “How much do you know that no one else does?”

Nico screwed up his face. “It depends. What do you know?”

Percy snorted and glanced up to where Jason was wandering around, taking everything in. He didn’t stray too far from Nico, constantly looking back to make sure he was there and that Percy, standing a good couple feet away, wasn’t hurting him. Thalia was watching from closeby. Her face was carefully guarded. However, every time she would try to get closer to Jason, he’d snap at her and a flash of distress would cut over her eyes as she stepped back.

Percy sighed. “I don’t…” He shook his head. “I can’t imagine what she’s feeling.”

Before they all left Olympus, Hades had called Thalia to the side and spoke with her. When she returned, she said that he had explained briefly the reality of how Jason had gone missing in the first place.

Why

their mother had abandoned him. Which was news to Percy. After Jason’s introduction during that whole sword quest in the Underworld, Thalia had chosen not to explain anything about him in the aftermath. Percy had thought he’d run away or something.

But no. He’d been abandoned to wolves at two years old. By his mother.

She didn’t go into much more detail, but obviously whatever Hades had told her had hurt her. Instead of following Artemis back to the Hunters, Thalia tagged along with Nico. Then continued to follow them as they chased after Rachel. They all overheard yet another prophecy being written into the stars, ideally nothing for the next century or so, when Percy was long dead and didn’t have to deal with any more godly madness. But in the softening madness, Thalia was hanging back, observing her wolfish brother.

Dinner would be starting soon. Percy wondered if that meant Nico would be taking Jason back to the Underworld. If Thalia would lose her brother for the third time.

“Pain,” Nico said. “And hope.” He fiddled with his fingers. “I didn’t know about the Roman camp until I met Pluto, my father’s Roman form. He prefers Hades, but sometimes, when Jason is too rowdy, they fall into what he would know them as.” Nico chewed his lip. “I don’t think he can tell much of a difference. Mostly because there really isn’t one. It’s not like dual sides, or different aspects, like with Egyptian gods.”

“Wait, Egyptian-”

“I mean, there’s no wild or calm variations. It’s like Dad said,” Nico continued, breezing past Percy and this new revelation with ease. “It’s just slightly different priorities. Pluto is more wealth than my father but they’re both still kings of the dead, in charge of the underworld, owners of all the jewels beneath the earth. They’re both still my father. Same as Jason will always be Thalia’s brother, even if he was born from a different name.”

Percy considered what to say. Then, “I didn’t know you were rich.”

Nico’s lip twitched. “My father’s rich. I’m just his son.”

Percy shrugged. “Well, he’s gotta die some time, right?”

Nico laughed, gently. “He would agree with you on that actually.” Ahead of them, Jason, finished examining the exterior of all the cabins, turned sharply on his heels and began jogging back towards them. “Nothing lasts forever.”

#feral!jason #percy jackson #nico di angelo #jason grace #thalia grace #hades (pjo)#pjo #my writing #my fanfic #pjo fanfic #i am so tired i'll upload this to ao3 sometime tmr #kronos is scared of jason because he remembers his son killing him with lightning and isn't thrilled at the risk of a repeat #please please please please enjoy this it took so fucking long to write and im really tired #underworld jason au #happy talks pjo

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mightymizora · 3 months

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Also I planned this and shared with some folks and others might find this interesting!

In my little canon world Gortash has many lovers, and I compiled a little list of his favourites!

Everybody listed here happened multiple times over a time period, so people like Haarlep which was a very set period and one off seductions like Liria (the name I gave to the elf whose head can be found in the workshop in Moonrise) don't count here.

Neither technically does Manva Warhelm, though she sits on top for always being on his mind sue me.

Putting under the cut because Enver Gortash is a bad, bad, bad man.

Bane. I mean this goes without saying. Visits from his God are always eventful.

Musahn Mensahn (Human) a Calishite importer of people who docks every few months. One of the few people Enver is actually fond of, Musahn is a shrewd, cultured man who spins a good yarn and is an attentive, gentle presence in his life. Afternoons with him are like a little holiday.

Del Dawnstar (Dwarf) A young employee at Mistress Yare’s flophouse in The Wide, Enver has been seeing them since they were a teenager starting out. Their position fluctuates; on the one hand they will do anything he asks of them as long as their price is met and he has been able to shape them to his tastes, but on the other hand, sometimes he likes a bit more of a fight (features in Let Me Adorn You)

Hester Ashenheart (Dwarf) A servant in Gortash’s household. He knows Hester does not like him, but that is part of the appeal on both sides. She has found herself in his bed on a number of occasions, often when he has received a less than pleasing letter - and she bears the brunt of the worst of his temper (Features in The Portrait)

Franc Peartree (Human, deceased) Franc and Enver have been working together for around a decade and have been lovers for almost all of that time. Franc has been a close supporter of Enver’s rise across business, politics, and religion, and their affair has always been one of a mutual understanding of his place.

Kruugar (Half-Orc, deceased) Kru is a mercenary who has worked for Enver across jobs. This one is pretty much just physical, and Kru has a prosthetic that Gortash fitted himself as a prototype (having also cut off his arm)

Kerrie Lovelace (Half-Elf) Gortash traded Kerrie and her brother Ellyan from Calimshan, and let her be bought by Karlach Cliffgate in what he saw as a very funny and misplaced moment of chivalry. She went on to become Ulder Ravengard’s mistress, which then sparked his interest; he blackmails her for her company when he feels he wants that particular feeling of power, and she cries all the way through, which is exactly what he is looking for (features in The Portrait and Ammunition)

Ivo Thorngrove (Halfling) A very shrewd moneylender, Ivo has been working with Enver for decades. They had a much more physical relationship when both men were younger, which has petered out into something more familial for the most part, though Ivo can sometimes be persuaded…

Helsik (Dwarf) A completely transactional, only occasional relationship when he wants something. He admires her business sense.

Wisteria Jannath (Human, deceased) Another transactional relationship, Enver nonetheless enjoys her sharp wit and warmth, and her understanding of what their relationship is.

Ettvard Needle (Human) Editor of Baldur’s Mouth. Enver met Ettvard when working on improvements to the efficiency of print and they formed a close working relationship which became closer when he joined the Banite church.

Ffion Goldgrind (Dwarf, deceased) Another working relationship, he sees Ffion when he needs a heavy reset.

Fariza Linnaker (Human) Technically his wife. Fariza was kidnapped and held as collateral for ransom to attempt to get Lady Ruth to hand over some of the family’s gold. She did not play ball, a move that Gortash deeply admired, and instead suggested that he keep her if he really wants the investment of the Linnakers. She has gone from locked up in a safehouse, visited only by Manva who “trained” her in what to expect should she live, to being locked up in his estate. He loathes her weakness.

Avery Sonshal (Human) Avery is a recent addition, an ambitious young man who is a Banite “friend of Gortash.” Enver doesn’t think much of him, but he takes a cock well and is eager to please, so is also easy to subjugate.

#dunno how to tag this lmao #it's my own little universe #my writing #i guess

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random-introverted-blog · 4 months

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His Star - His Queen [Chapter 2 - You Beckoned the Stars and They Beckoned Back]

Setting the stage

Summary: Already in pursuit with the aid of a mysterious Elven man and woman, your vampire spawn was coming to the rescue. Without you, his newfound freedom from Cazador was hollow. You were more than a treasure. You were his star. And he was yours. You’d done more for him than you would likely ever realize. You saved him from himself. Now it was his turn to save you.

Link to the Tumblr Chapter Index

Link to the AO3 page

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Once they emerged in the wide open space, it became clear that this was going to be a complicated ordeal. A dozen empty, elegant chairs surrounded a round table in the center, matching the marble floor. The curved walls featured aged stone construction, and the floors were made from white marble.

How the room remained so well lit was anyone's guess. Though there were torches mounted along the curved walls, they shouldn't be effective at all due to the immense size of the room. The only darkness to be found was in near the top of the tall ceiling.

On the right, there stood a pair of imposing wooden double doors, sealed shut and framed in cast iron. Upon closer inspection of the surrounding walls, one could spot delicate patterns reminiscent of faded murals that adorned the chamber.

The trio approached the round table and the man - young for an elf - set his papers down and meticulously pored over them, his fingers gliding over the rough texture of the parchment. Astarion's focus only shifted when the older woman passed beside him, her footsteps echoing in his ears. "It will take some time to arrange and organize an effective strategy—"

"How long?" Astarion bit, his voice as sharp as his fangs, and his eyes hardened into a piercing glare

"An evening, no longer." The woman answered. Her tone carried a sense of calm as she spoke, her words hanging in the air like a gentle breeze on a cool evening. "We are venturing into forbidden territory," she explained, her voice steady and unwavering. "The gods themselves are wary of our meddling with such powerful magics. They will only allow us to proceed if we can prove our intentions are pure, aimed at preserving the delicate balance of time and space." She says, brushing her fingers along the odd, unrecognizable markings along the rim of the cold marble surface.

Her gaze lifted, meeting his eyes with a solemn determination. "We must find a way to ensure your safe passage from this realm to his, without causing further harm to either of your worlds," she concluded. The gravity of her words permeated the atmosphere, serving as a constant reminder of the monumental task that awaited them.

Astarion raises an eyebrow, his irritation simmering beneath the surface as he considers the challenges that await them before they've even begun. "If he could saunter into ours with the same insouciance a drunkard enters a tavern with, why can't I?"

She shook her head, the strands of her bright blonde hair swaying with the motion. "The simple answer would be because he is an Ascendant," she said, her voice carrying a hint of weariness. She paused, her features etched with a grim expression, as if burdened by the weight of her words. "But he's beyond that. He is The Ascendant. There is no other like him across any reality. The..." She hesitated. The air, as if reluctantly, grew heavy with a profound sense of awe and reverence. But her hesitation was born of more than that. Astarion recognized it right away. She was biting her tongue. Withholding information.

"If we were to open the way for you to trespass in his homeline now," she continued, her voice tinged with caution, "you would not last a full day before your body and soul deteriorated to dust." The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, suffocating. The atmosphere was charged with an unspoken danger, as if the very walls were aware of the consequences that awaited any who dared to challenge the Ascendant. "And without you, she has no hope of returning home. Not on her own." She said, her voice tinged with a touch of sadness.

Astarion felt his body stiffen, and he lifted his chin. Dead coiled in his chest like a frigid hand gripping his dead heart at the mere thought of you being truly trapped with that freak wearing his face. "The Ascendant's repression of his late queen was constant. She tried many times to find her freedom, to no avail. Even in death, he would not allow her to depart his side." The sound of her words echoed in the silence, each syllable carrying the weight of a lifetime of captivity. "The use of the disintegrate spell was rather clever on her part," she confessed. Her words carried a bitter melancholy, testament to the lengths she had gone to escape the clutches of the Ascendant.

"Why are you telling me all this?" He asked, his voice becoming more subdued, as if his lifeless heart was crumbling to ash within his chest.

Their eyes locked in a moment of intense connection, the woman's gaze revealing the weight of her words. "He spared no effort in protecting what he held dear, his most precious possession, only to have it torn away from him."

As she drifted toward him, Astarion's body tensed, his eyes unwavering. "He spared no effort in his relentless pursuit to find your Tav," she explained, "and went even further to take her from you." She skillfully thrust the memory back into his mind, causing a surge of emotions to course through him. The vision of your desperate struggle against the Ascendants' arms around you... How you only ceased when that magic encircled you. She paused, creating a palpable silence between them, before continuing, her voice tinged with a sense of foreboding. "And now that he has what he wants, his behavior will only worsen. His obsession will dominate her, becoming inescapable... He will not willingly relinquish his grip on his newfound queen."

Her warning came with a tone that left no room for ambiguity, emphasizing the seriousness of the situation as she continued "no matter how vehemently she resists, she will not so much as bend a single bar of the gilded cage he has confined her in." The woman's gaze lingers, a veil of poignancy shadowing her face, as if a dark brushstroke has painted her features. "And that's before he has tamed her. Shattered and molded her into his submissive queen, trained her mind to perceive his actions as true love..." Her voice teeming with sympathy... pity...

"That is why we need you. She needs you," she emphasized, tone filled with conviction and shows him no mercy, reminding him once again of where you were, what you were going through as they stood around. "That is why we must do everything in our power to ensure you have the best chance to overcome the heaven-height mountain that lies before you. And that starts by equipping you with the necessary enchantment to meld your existence into a timeline where you already live..."

As she studied his expression, she couldn't help but notice the mix of astonishment and bewilderment that played across his face, causing her to sigh in resignation. "If this is too great a burden to bear, we will not stop you. You are free to return to your homeline and live however you wish. We will stop him, one way or another. But we cannot guarantee her wellbeing."

Motionless, Astarion grappled with the heavy responsibility she had bestowed upon him. His instincts were screaming at him, telling him to have nothing to do with this. It was apparent that she was being selective in what she shared with him. That alone should be enough to ignite his fury and make him accept their offer to send him back.

But then he recalls the despondent look in your eyes, the way they shimmered with tears. Your voice quivered with emotion as you spoke those three little words and hung his name at the end. It was more than just fear that caused your eyes to gloss over; there was also a deep anguish. And with each tear that fell, the bitter ache of being forcibly torn apart from him was imprinted into every drop. Your heart filled with palpable anguish. That you'd never be able to say them to him again. The beautiful twinkling stars of your eyes, like his own night sky, flickering into nothingness.

Foolish, altruistic, reckless to extents that made him initially wonder if you were suicidal. And frustratingly heroic as you were, he knew you would have done the same for him in a heartbeat if the roles were reversed - lacking any of his rather wise caution. Hells, you had been doing the same for him when this mess started. Freeing him from his cruel master...

He was many things, but he was no liar.

He vowed he'd save you.

He would save you.

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A/N: Just setting things up here, choosing the drapes (I'm going straight to hell for writing this one)

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wintermelonbear · 2 months

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Just Another Picture to Burn

Summary: Just a cute little friendship between Jon, Damian, and Marinette. Can be read platonically or with some romantic inclination. Just two friends who want the best for each other and will celebrate each other’s milestones

Sidenote: I haven’t written anything in years, but dragged my butt to write this for the MGI civil war so proceed with caution.

Sharp green eyes open up to the world moments before the buzz of a phone alarm signals the need to get up. Out of an abundance of caution stemming from his tumultuous upbringing the young teen scans the room for any signs of an intruder, most days this is a fruitless endeavor, but Damian could never find himself to drop this habit. He notes an envelope on his desk and reaches for the compressed bo staff under his pillow. As he approached the desk the only sound that could be heard was the light creak of the manor’s floorboards and low mumblings coming from the kitchen. A sigh of relief breaks this silence as Damian recognizes the gentle script sprawled across the front of the pale pink envelope spelling out “To Dami”.

Cautiously he flips the envelope checking for signs of tampering. While the sentiment is nice, the choice to send a handwritten letter rather than a text was out of left field from his companion. He notes with a slight grin that she had used the wax seal he gifted her after the defeat of Hawkmoth. Sliding a batarang out from the underside of his desk he slices open the top of the envelope to reveal a piece of thick cardstock. At this Damian’s brow moves into a sharp arch, what could have been so important, yet so minimal that she had to portal over to his place in the middle of the night. Pulling out a piece of pristine white paper, he reads, "You, me & Jon. 7 pm CET. I already checked with your dad, so no excuses. Love, Mari”

Picking up his phone –the latest from Wayne Tech– he taps out a message to his top contact, “Spotted Menace”. A bright blue message populates the screen reading out, “An invite? To what exactly?” For emphasis, he adds in a raised eyebrow emoji then after some contemplation adds in a thinking emoji. Following that text, he quickly snaps a picture of the note to Marinette to confirm he received her letter before preparing for the day.

Before leaving his room he picks up the envelope again, this time to admire her handiwork instead of ascertaining its threat level. Turning to the back of the envelope his chest puffs out a bit as he dons a victorious smile he takes in his handiwork. She had used the wax seal stamp he had gifted her on her 16th birthday. He hand-carved the image of a ladybug resting on a branch of plum blossoms, to signify her new beginning as a hero by choice and not by necessity after the defeat of Hawkmoth.

As Damian slipped into the driver’s seat of his sleek sedan he mused that 12-year-old Damian would be utterly baffled by the person he is today –apart from being the stronger member of the new generation of heroes, that has always been a given (Somewhere Jon is rolling his eyes). Honestly, when Damian first met Marinette he found her pathetic. She was just a worthless little girl who was gifted powers beyond her capability to wield, and he never hid his disdain for her. Thus, to young pre-teen Marinette the youngest Robin was just a massive dickhead who had no feelings apart from his superiority complex. He was an embodiment of torment; the worst parts of Felix and Chloe combined. Not to say that Damian is perfect now, but at the time he lacked the perspective he gained from his travels to and return from Lazarus Island. Now he has spent more time learning from others’ experiences, has gone through his first heartbreak after Flatline decided that time spent with him was distracting her from her personal goals, and all of that has taught him to care and have some level of empathy. He may not be like Marinette and Jon, ready to do what is right solely because they blindly believe in the goodness of others, but he understands that even if he may not find value in someone, that does not mean their life is worthless.

The first time Robin acknowledged that despite Ladybug’s lack of technical combat skills, she had plenty of other skills that other heroes would be envious of, Nightwing attempted to give him a “bear hug” and Superboy nearly fell from the sky. What Robin to this day doesn’t know about that night is that his comm was connected to Ladybug’s and the reason she fell off the roof was not the attacker’s sharp jab to her ribs, but rather the shock of Robin giving her any form of praise. From then on Marinette decided maybe Robin was capable of growing a heart, and while it may have started as one-sided conversations with her rambling on about herself and basic topics of conversation – how’s the weather in the Gotham? It’s been warm in Paris! Did you see the new Mecha Strike game launch? What’s your favorite dessert? – eventually, Damian started warming up to her.

By the time the youngest Wayne snaps out of his reverie, the bell has rung signaling the dismissal of his second-period and the start of the school’s 20-minute break. Fishing through his pockets, and quickly unlocking his phone he finds several missed messages from Marinette, Jon, and their group chat “Talk Shit Get Hit”. After skimming through their private messages, Damian bites the bullet and opens up “Talk Shit Get Hit” to begin tackling the growing number of messages. Scrolling to the top of the chain of unread messages he sends Jon spamming the chat with unintelligible keyboard smashes followed by “MARI HOW DID YOU GET US OUT OF LIZZIE-SITTING DUTIES???”, Damian swears that the capslock on Jon’s keyboards must be worn down with his overusage. He reacts to the message with a set of eye emojis because there are very few people Diana trusts with her fussy toddler and he knows for a fact that she’s in the midst of an investigation into a rapidly expanding crime syndicate. As he scrolls further he is dismayed to find out Marinette cashed in this free day in exchange for a date night babysitting gig in addition to normal babysitting duties. Damian loves Lizzie like a younger sister and of course, wants her to be in the care of someone befitting of her status. Still, he has been yelled at one too many times for taking her on patrol with him, and sometimes bringing a 3-foot-tall sidekick with a tutu (courtesy of Marinette) kills his intimidation factor. Once he makes it past a wall of crying emojis and gifs of betrayal from Jon, the chat goes back to its normal contents, filled with reels shared between Jon and Mari, and complaints about their teachers. Jon eventually asks Marinette what she has planned for tonight that is worth the extra babysitting duties, but Marinette declines to answer and instead tells him to be patient.

After school Damian carefully considers his outfit but sticks with his classic black turtleneck and a pair of khakis, Marinette will call him boring but what does she know? She used to have a crush on a guy who exclusively wore a striped shirt with an open button-up and bright orange Converses. Once they became comfortable with one another Marinette made it VERY well-known that while she wished his civilian wear had more diversity and color, she found his original Robin suit to be a “crime against fashion and most people’s eyeballs”. Stating that only traffic lights would appreciate sharing a color palette with him. Damian argued that it’s tradition, while Marinette replied with “It’s fugly and you know it. Y o u! ditched the design in the first place”. Rolling his eyes, he heads to the window and yells out “Jon! I am ready!” and with a flash of blue and red Jon shows up at his window clad in a red hoodie and blue jeans. The Super family really needs to consider their civilian “disguises”.

Swooping Damian up into his arm Jon bolts out the window and into the sky towards Paris until they reach a familiar flowered rooftop. After two taps to the trap door beneath them, the door abruptly gave way and Damian was met with a loud POP and confetti raining down onto him. Quickly Marinette busted out the door cake in hand and in unison started singing with Jon. While it was not a rare occurrence for Marinette to provide them with sweets at her residence, what was on the cake was the strange part. It was a picture of one of his earlier Robin outfits? One that after many earfuls from Marinette knew to be her least favorite, why would she put it on a cake??

“Happy outfit death to you! Happy outfit death to you! You no longer look like a traffic light! Happy outfit death to you!” Out of seemingly thin air, Marinette pulled out a lighter and lit the top layer on fire revealing a picture of his new outfit underneath. “You do not know how relieved I am that I do not have to be with someone whose color palette matches a kindergarten classroom rug, and not a cute one”.

Damian with a puzzled expression questions her, “Is this something to be celebrated? Besides that I changed outfits months ago”. Marinette looked at him mouth agape. “Close your mouth you will catch flies at this rate”.

Almost as if rehearsed Jon and Marinette reply in unison “What are you my maman/ma”?

After clearing her throat Marinette went to explain, “There are plenty of things to celebrate for your outfit change! You’re finding out the type of Robin you’re going to be, and I personally believe that is a worthy cause for celebration. Besides, after Monarch’s downfall, I was really struggling to figure out what to do myself. My whole world felt like it splintered into pieces, but you and Jon were there to help me figure things out when the consequences of my actions™ struck. I want you to feel empowered too, even if you don’t need it the same way I did”. With a smile Marinette brought out some forks, “Now let’s dig in”! If it made him uncomfortable how quickly his friends stabbed his frosting face with their forks, he didn’t let it show.

#maribat #marinette x damian #damian dominance #mgi civil war 2024 #daminette #prompt: color palette

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llondonfog · 7 months

Text

twst (horror) tober — day 3 (sharp)

➤ Day 3: Sharp | “Careful, you could hurt someone with that.”

His father warns him of such as Silver hefts the practice sword with wide-eyed wonder, the weight of a budding world lying in the palm of his hand as his fingers wrap around the grip and pommel.

It is a plain thing— blade made of tapered, sanded wood held in place by a thick cross guard and rustic, brown leather-wrapped handle. The hilt has worn down over the years, faded where many a trainee wielded it with all the might of their deepest wish: to become a knight in the royal guard, to wear the emblem of their kingdom over their chest with untold pride and undying honor.

To Silver, it's the most beautiful sword in the world.

Despite his father's cautious reminder, Silver can see him smile faintly from where he stands, arms crossed in an attempt to hide his biased pleasure as his son takes his first step along the arduous path to share his mantle. His father may not be the most expressive man, but Silver knows where to look for his kindness, his love. They even match today— his mother had laughed so fondly at the sight of them at breakfast with their golden locks held back in place, dressed in similar training outfits that his father had commissioned the royal tailor to create, as Silver diligently reached for second helpings of every plate his father had selected.

"My most handsome knights," she had murmured, kissing his father on a pinking cheek and her giggling son on the top of his head. "How well our people will sleep tonight knowing that they have the two of you to protect us all."

His father gestures to a training dummy with a breastplate and pauldrons of armor already assembled, the dull sheen of metal beckoning in the mid-morning sun. A buckler of hammered steel is held protectively before it, and Silver's heart leaps into his throat at the sight.

"We've sparred with batons enough," his father continues in that same patient tone, all the time and peace in the world to train his only beloved son. "I think that it is time for you to test your hand against what a true opponent would use to block an attack. Your swing needs to be able to withstand a shield rising in front of you, it would not do you any good as a swordsman or a knight to lose your blade in battle because you could not keep a grip on it."

Silver nods solemnly in agreement; it is not mere prattle that his father speaks, he did not become the foremost knight of their kingdom, their realm, by negligence and sheer luck alone. Chest brimming with the joy of knowing his father deems him ready for advancement, has seen the diligence and dedication of Silver's daily practices, he turns to face the dummy, readying his wooden blade.

The faceless straw head stares impassively back at him as he judges the distance between them, the weight of the sword in his hands, the force of the impact he ought to carry through in order to dislodge the shield without injury. Silver can feel his father's gaze, warm with silent pride, resting like laurels over him, invisible in its comfort and steadfast in its praise. He can do this.

He readies his stance, the lightest touch of a summer's breeze lifting his fringe as he all but feels the rushing power of young muscles tensing together to propel his swing—

And drops the sword in shock, hands stinging from the impact as it clatters painfully off his shin.

"Silver!"

Within an instant, his father has rushed to his side, those auroral eyes so identical to his own flush with concern. Calloused hands gently take his own, flipping them over with care and searching his body for bruising, but Silver all but brushes them off, babbling incoherently with a fright so innate, he cannot remember where it emerged from.

"I—I saw someone! Father, I— I know I did, they were standing just behind you!"

For his credit, his father does take a bemused glance behind himself to the empty practice field, but it is simply just that: a desolate training ground that he had ensured would be free of guards and servants for the quality time of training his son.

"Silver, I . . . I do not doubt that you were concentrating, but perhaps it was merely a shadow of a bird? You know how they often enjoy gathering here to watch you spar, are you certain it was a figure that you saw?"

He cannot stop the trembling of his fingers, the bone-deep curdling of his blood. His father soothes a hand through his hair, tucks him into the warm safety of his side, and wipes away the shaken tears that have begun to spill from his eyes, murmuring sweet nothings that have no effect on his reeling nerves.

He knows what he saw— the figure standing behind his father, clad all in shadow with emerald eyes gleaming like the jewels in his mother's crown, pitch-black horns spiraling to the sky.

And clasped in their long, thin fingers, dangling like a noose from blackened talons— his father's necklace, the ring glinting like a warning in the suddenly cold summer sun.

#lettie writes #twisted wonderland #twst spoilers #diasomnia #twisted wonderland silver #twst silver #twst malleus #malleus draconia #the knight of dawn #does he have a tag yet?#apologies for the day behind; not too happy with it but not going to rework it now #after my dental work my mouth is so damn sore and killing me #so i'm gonna take some advil and lay down for a bit :')#THIS IS NOT HISTORICALLY ACCURATE i know nothing about medieval armor and training alksdfj

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abowlofhunny · 7 months

Text

A/N You'll need context from the ending of CC2 for the beginning of the fic, but if you don't plan on reading that series it will (mostly) make sense. But hardcore spoilers for CC2 😭😭

But lmk if you guys would like more Azriel x Cadre!Reader! I've loved this concept forever and am finally ready to start sharing it 🥰 You'll meet reader in the next part and get her pov 🥰

ACOTAR X TOG crossover

Pairing: Azriel X Cadre!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, eventual smut, angst, trauma, CPTSD, war (to be updated ❤️)

⚠️ GIGANTIC ACOSF, CC2, AND KINGDOM OF ASH SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT⚠️

The Blade of Doranelle

part 0.5

Rhysand was going to go mad.

He paces behind his desk with furrowed brows, trying to get any sense of something rational in his life. Since Bryce Quinlan fell into his court months ago his brain has been close to bursting. Feyre is no better. They've each had dozens of reports of tears in their world, in the very air itself, with shifting light marking every last one of them. Even when the female made her way back to her world, the rifts didn't close behind her. Both high lord and lady had gone together to the closest one, just outside of Velaris, and tried to close it themselves. When that proved impossible for the two most powerful high fae to have walked Prythian, tensions rose considerably.

Rhys takes a deep breath and turns to his mate who has been watching him quietly from her perch on the couch. She had Rhea, Madja's assistant, watching Nyx while his parents were occupied throughout their busy afternoons, and this was no exception.

"Thought for a thought?" She murmurs gently.

Rhysand stops pacing, and despite the exhaustion weighing on his soul he smiles. Despite his 500 years being alive, nothing could have prepared him for something this absurd.

"I'm thinking… that I want to throw something out of that window," Rhys grumbles. He turns to Feyre who can practically see the instincts in him roaring to protect and slaughter any who threatens what's his. But that now unsealed letter at the top of dozens of reports? It rattled him.

Azriel had brought it in, after his spies witnessed a village go into an uproar after a blonde fae male in silver armor stepped through a rift and politely requested a letter be delivered to their leader. But when Az had gotten there the male was long gone, stepping back through the rift.

As soon as Rhys finished reading the male's letter; he silently handed it to his mate and his eyes glazed over, immediately contacting everyone in his inner circle for an emergency meeting. Feyre's eyes had darted across the page before immediately turning back to Azriel, her face grave. "We need Amren here."

Although its contents itself were as pleasant as it could be, all things considered. Azriel's face had been dark since he brought in the damned thing, and now that the second in command was getting involved? As he winnowed away, Azriel was sure this was nothing but a bad omen.

He returned within a heartbeat with Amren. The small female was still intimidating despite her loss of power. Especially now seeing her delicate face contorted with rage as she's handed the offending paper by her high lady. Azriel's face was still dark as he moved to stand in front of the fireplace and a cunning eyed Amren now read the letter.

Feyre twists towards her mate once more and leans forward, "What is the political side of you thinking, Rhysand?"

Despite her young age, her eyes were sharp and clear. This was her court and her family potentially in danger, no matter how important these rifts may be, to be sent a letter from something on the other side was a security risk, no matter their intentions.

Rhys takes a deep breath in and considers. Just as he opens his mouth the door bursts open- "What the fuck do you mean a queen from across the rift requested an audience?"

"Hello cousin," Rhys grumbles before pinching his brows.

"There's no way in Hel that you're considering it," hisses Mor again, with Cassian and Nesta on her heels looking inclined to agree. She likely had winnowed them to the river house upon getting her own summons and brief explanation from Rhys mind to mind.

"As I was going to say," he rubs his face, "this meeting is risky."

"But so is leaving unattended rifts across our court." Amren says. She had been silent since she finished reading, the letter dangling haphazardly from her pinched fingers.

"We can handle the rifts across our court. We shouldn't be interacting with what is on the other side," says Azriel as he stalks forward towards Rhys, "It has to be a trap."

"What if it's genuine? Look at your orrery Rhys, you already thought other worlds existed. It was confirmed with Bryce. It wouldn't hurt to at least reply to the letter," Nesta says before she catches Azriel's eye, "You're a spymaster, shouldn't you be halfway through that rift to seek your own answers from whoever delivered the letter?" Azriel's eyes narrow in response.

"That is not a risk even I am willing to take. The rift itself could likely kill us-"

"It won't. I already have eyewitness reports of townsfolk stepping through a rift with rope tied around their waists and returning of their own accord," Feyre interrupts as she presses her fingers into her temples.

"Rhys and I entered their minds and they weren't altered at all, Madja looked at several as well and no bodily harm came to them either. And its been well over two months since the first rift opened, if something was going to happen to those people I think it would have already."

"Mother's tits Rhys. First the queens, Koschei, Bryce, rifts opening across all of Prythian and now finding something on the other side of one?" Cassian sighed before grumbling, "I need to make sure the Illyrians are ready to fly again."

Mor's skirt hissed against the wooden flooring as she swept forward to snatch the letter from Amren, who surprisingly allowed her with no more than a sideways glance. She refolds the paper to align the broken seal once more and traces the dark green wax.

"This seal is unfamiliar…" she muses before skimming the letter and promptly dropping it back onto the once organized desk of Rhysand's office. The paper now seemingly mocking the rest of the reports that were deemed unimportant.

"Do the initials A.A.G. ring any bells?"

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linkedspirit-fanartfunart · 2 months

Text

Blue Skies and Dark Clouds

Sky's backstory! (Ao3)

(And unfortunately because it's a Backstory I and everyone else must suffer the sense that things aren't Resolved lol)

Summary: Zelda & Link have always been inseparable. Now, Link fights Demise, the creature that separated them, even as he's on the verge of collapse... when the battle is done, Link just can't seem to slot himself back next to Zelda as smoothly as they used to.

Warnings: injury, ignoring injury, spoilers for the end of Skyward Sword but like. So is the comic. Zelda has Hylia Guilt annnd... angst. Ye.

There was a time before Demons and Goddess reborn. Before endless cycles of battle. When the sky was blue and cloudy. The air crisp. Skyloft had felt much bigger back then. When it was the only place they knew. When the place beneath the clouds was a legend, a fantasy.

The little orphan boy followed the headmasters daughter closely, as he often did when they were young. Small hand in hers. The pair were still equally small, and had recently traded wardrobes. Link's old dress looked much nicer on Zelda, that was for sure. Link also much preferred Zelda's old tunic shirt on himself. It was especially nice because it smelled like her still.

“Hey- er- Zelda!” Groose said, waving excitedly at her. His red hair was tied up in a little ponytail right at the top of his head.

Link leaned over to whisper to Zelda “Umbrella.”

She laughed, “Link, be nice.”

Groose frowned, putting his hands on his hips. “What did he just say?”

“Oh, he's just being silly.” Zelda said with another giggle.

“Hmph. Well, I just learned how to do a loop-d-loop with my loftwing! Do ya wanna watch?”

Link shifted to hide behind Zelda.

“Oh, not right now. Link and I are gonna go looking for butterflies,” Zelda said. She gestured her head at Link behind her.

“...Oh.” Groose mumbled. He frowned, folding his arms, “Well when are you not doing something with Link?”

Zelda considered. She shrugged, “I don't know?”

“Uhg, why do you even hang out with him!? All he does is stare at clouds and catch bugs! How is that any fun? He doesn't even talk!” Groose complained, throwing his hands up.

Link hid further behind Zelda. She frowned, stepping forward, “He's my best friend! He's super sweet and funny and super cool! So maybe you should shut up! I don't think I wanna be your friend if you can't be friends with Link!”

Groose pouted, “Well…n- Nevermind then!” he turned and ran.

Link watched him go, then looked at Zelda. “Thanks,” he whispered.

“I'll always protect you!” Zelda exclaimed, turning to take his hand and raise it to the sky with hers. “We'll be best friends forever and ever and nobody is ever gonna get between us!”

Link smiled and nodded firmly.

-*-

10 years later and nothing would get between him and his best friend. Not even the Demon King.

The sky was dark. Oppressive dark magic filled the endless world of storm. Lightning made of pure rage and malice crashed through the swirling dark clouds.

The Master Sword raised Skyward like a beacon of defiance. The lightning struck down upon him. Ae channeled all the boiling rage of his own and redirected it against the Demon King. Before it could consume him.

Link ignored the pain crashing through his body. Ignored the insistent chime from Fi reminding him he was very close to outright collapsing or even dying. Ae could do this. He would be fast enough, he would be strong enough, he would be smart enough. Nothing. Would. Take Zelda. From him. Again!

He slashed repeatedly into Demise's chest. His blood boiled in his veins. His gaze sharp and focused. Aer breaths made with careful precision.

Demise was strong and firm. His movements sharp and heavy. Link's legs shook with the efforts to remain standing as Demise's blade struck against his shield. Link flipped out of Demise's range, eyes flickering at the demonic skies. There was no holy light here to call. Only electric power and anger.

Link rose his sword Skyward as Demise strode toward him. Stalking aer like prey.

Link grunted and stumbled slightly against the force of pure energy crashing against his blade. Fi captured it, sparks crackling dangerously close to his skin. He panted, swallowing down the fear closing around his throat. He swung his sword toward Demise as he rose his own. The blades cracked together.

Lightning erupted over Link's body, the crash shocking his senses. His body seizing from the God's power. It felt nothing like the electric powers found in the Desert. It was seared into him with pure contempt for his existence.

A buzz in the ozone. Hair standing on end. Demise's electrified blade struck against his chest, pushing Link back into the pool of thin waters. Link could barely feel aer face. He breathed out slowly.

Ae struggled to take another breath in.

The sky was hazy and dark. Get up. Get up. GET. UP. He refused to slow down now.

Link rolled as Demise's blade crashed down against where he would've been. Ae tumbled into a stand, pulling out a half-full bottle of red liquid. He downed all the flower-sweet crimson potion in one gulp. Ae choked on it, feeling it buzz against the fuzz in his brain and the cotton in his mouth.

He dodged another attempt at a blow, flipping backwards. Ae dropped the empty bottle entirely. He grabbed the Master Sword and thrust it to the Sky again. His eyes focused even as his vision seemed to play tricks with him.

Lighting cracked around the blade. Zelda's hair golden and long like a flash of light.

Link yelled and sliced the electric power at the God with breakneck speed. Zelda's smile as she demonstrated an arching motion with a wooden sword.

Zelda. Limp and unconscious, warm brown color drained from her face. Her body draped in Groose's arms. Link hit Demise with a flurry of quick, precise strikes. Aer blood pounded in aer veins. Fi's blade nearly glowed, shining and swift against the shadows of the Demon King.

He pushed Demise onto his back with a splash of ink dark waters. He screamed a yell of rage and lept. Electricity cracked around Fi's blade. The pulsing rage of it almost seemed to follow his whim, now. He drove the sword into Demise's chest. He was strangely still for a flash. The sky rolled with thunder. Link flipped back. Ready.

Demise stumbled back to a stand, wavering. His blade rose, then fell, crashing to the ground. Ghirahim's sword form vanished in a flurry of dark smoke. Link glared intently. There had to be another move. Something the demon had prepared. A beastal form? Like the Imprisoned?

Demise panted, almost laughing, “Extraordinary. You stand as a paragon to your kind, human.”

Link stared, unsettled. He shifted, keeping his sword close and ready. Briefly, he glanced around for a sign that Ghirahim might materialise to attack him from above or behind.

“You fight like no man or demon I have ever known. Though this is not the end.”

They both labored for breath. Link couldn't see any inkling of a transformation. His scales shimmered slightly, but not with dark power. It seemed more like light, crackling and overpowering the dark that created the demon.

“My hate… never perishes. It is born anew in a cycle with no end! I will rise again!” Demise exclaimed to the windless world.

Link's brows furrowed deeper. His breaths felt shallow and difficult. He ignored blistering pain shooting through his arm and hand. He would see this through. Ae had to stay standing. He had to. Just. Stay standing.

Demise raised his hand slowly, pointing, “Those like you… Those who share the blood of the goddess and the spirit of the hero… they are eternally bound to this curse.” Demise heaved a laboured breath. “An Incarnation of my hatred shall ever follow your kind, dooming them to wander a blood-soaked sea of darkness for all time!” The Demon King laughed, maniacal as his form shimmered like a ghost.

Link's heart pounded heavily against his chest. A booming painful cacophony. He held firm. Ready and alert even as Demise vanished into a puff of smoke.

Fi chimed. Link glanced at the glowing sword, his friend, expression softening. Ae shifted to raise the sword Skyward, slower than ae usually would. His arm ached and stung with the effort.

The lingering darkness gathered into the blade. Fi spoke into the endless sky, finally turning a peaceful blue. “I have confirmed the eradication of the Demon King.” Link let out a heaved sigh of relief, looking up to the clouds. He felt the lingering tension in his body fade. His vision swirled and wavered, the blues and whites hazy. Ae felt close to collapse. He stiffened back up again. Ae could pull it together. Ae needed to get to Zelda. Check if she was alright. Prove to Impa and his goddess that he and Fi were successful. Prove to Zelda she was finally safe.

“His residual consciousness has been absorbed into the Master Sword…” Fi said softly. His sword arm shook slightly. He glanced at Fi. “And is now sealed away.” Link closed his eyes, and light returned him to the sealed grounds.

-*-

“Hey, wake up sleepy head.” A soft voice said. Gentle fingers brushing against his forehead. Zelda. His brows pinched and he turned further into the mattress… Which didn't feel quite like a mattress. It was warm and the fabric was wrong. Not to mention the vague sense everything was moving.

“Link? Please wake up,” Zelda said, sounding more frightened, sad. Ae groaned, shifting to open his eyes. Zelda seemed like she was glowing. A blur of pale blonde and a white dress. Just how often did he need reminding she was a reincarnated goddess? So far beyond his reach… Now she had to glow to be beyond his sight even with her next to him?

“Oh, oh good-” She said. She definitely looked like she was walking. Why were they moving if he was asleep-

“He's gonna be fine,” Groose said somewhere above him, “He was moving and grooving just fine for at least 20 minutes, right?” Oh. Groose was carrying aer. They'd said goodbye to Fi, to Impa- twice- and he'd looked back at the Master Sword and… then… then…. The world had lurched upward and everything was bright and blank.

“I'm just worried his injuries are worse than they look… Goodness, his face-” Zelda's hand brushed against aer cheek. It stung. He made a soft whine, pulling away slightly. “Oh, oh! I'm so sorry-” she stammered, sounding a lot more like she used to when she fretted over aer. Ae giggled despite aerself. He missed her so much… He tried to reach for her hand, but his right side felt pinned, tingling with pain and exertion. He shifted and brought his left hand to her hand instead.

“We're going to take you home, okay? It's going to be okay! It's fine, you're fine.” Zelda moved her hand away and became a blur of motion. With the little hiccups Link had to assume she was wiping away more tears…

Link sighed softly. He briefly considered demanding Groose let him walk on his own… but… this felt nice. Ae was exhausted anyway. So instead he pulled on Groose's shirt to get him to move closer to Zelda. Groose didn't quite catch the intentions, and instead he leaned his big dumb head down to obscure all of Link's currently very limited vision.

He glared lightly.

“You look like a pirate with that squinty look you're doing.” Groose commented. Link smacked his chest. “See Zelda, ae's fine! He probably only collapsed because he's been running on no sleep for like a month.”

“Ohhhhh,” She whined, not sounding comforted at all.

Link reached to her again but instead of Zelda's touch, ae felt a billow of wind and heard an unmistakable chime-

“Woah! Ally-up!” Groose exclaimed with a whoop and they were flung upwards into the air. Link completely lost sight of Zelda in the whirlwind. A sense of panic and dread clutched his chest and his throat.

Groose held onto him tightly. Groose whistled. A screech from a loftwing. Link yelped as he got nearly squished between a body of feathers and Groose. “Sorry sorry-” Groose whispered. “That could've been gentler.”

Link struggled to adjust aer self enough to get into a more secure and comfortable position. “Stop squirming, you're gonna knock us off balance. it'll only be a few minutes.” Groose grumbled.

Link snorted a huff. A red blur swooped above them, shrieking.

“WOAH you big red brute, he's fine! I've got him!” Groose exclaimed to Crimson.

Link wanted to clarify just who the big red brute was here, Crimson or Groose, but the joke couldn't make it past a wheeze in his throat.

Link hooked his left arm around Groose's shoulder and pulled himself up closer to a sitting position. Groose and his Loftwing both squawked in protest. The world spun and blurred around him. Something wooshed back and forth in his ears. It didn't feel like the wind. His own heartbeat, maybe. He reached up to his Loftwing's beak, giving him a gentle pat. Crimson churred, satisfied, and backed away, swooping to fly under them.

“Oh. Thanks,” Groose grumbled, “...Dunderhead.”

Link didn't have the energy to argue. Blue. Blue blue blue- why was Zelda's loftwing the color of the sky, why was she so hard to see- “Zelda-” Link rasped. Voice quiet and scratchy. It felt like the first time ae had spoken aloud since Zelda had fallen through the clouds…It might have been.

“Oh. She's just ahead of us. She's speeding like a firecracker too, I think she's gonna grab some people to meet us when we land.”

Link struggled to look into the distance enough to spot her. It was harder to breathe in the sky. The air thin, his breaths shallow and wheezing. The blue skies all blurred back out into darkness. Aer head lulled before ae could stop it.

“Link?!”

Blur. Grainy moments. Their voices were so loud but so distant. His body heavy and light all at once. It was just too hard to wake up…

“OH I think he's waking up!” Zelda shouted over her shoulder. Practically in his ears, but he didn't care. Her face was much closer and thankfully much clearer.

Footsteps thundered into the room. Groose, Link assumed, from the stumbling sound. A slower footfall entered shortly after, Headmaster Gaepora maybe?

Link didn't turn to look. Ae just smiled softly at Zelda. She smiled back, eyes teary. Ae wished she could stop crying… it was over. She said so herself.

Link reached up to wipe her tears. He frowned softly as he noted the bandage wrapped around the entirety of his right hand and arm. It hadn't been that bad… right?

Zelda leaned against his touch, grabbing his left wrist with both her hands. “Stop scaring me, you jerk.”

He slowly pulled his hands from hers, signing, “I'm okay. Tired.”

“Have you really not slept for a month? I know better than to trust Groose at his word but-”

Groose huffed, but didn't interrupt with protest. …Weird, Link decided.

Zelda brushed a thumb under his left eye, where dark circles were very likely to be. He closed his eyes, sighing. “You really look so tired.” She said softly.

Ae couldn't really dignify that with a response. Sleep had become a battle of its own lately. Dreams of the myriad of ways he could've lost Zelda had been near constant any time he'd slept long enough to dream.

She leaned over and hugged him, voice lowering to a whisper. “I'm sorry. I didn't- you're too kind. I would hate me if I was you. So much. I made you do such dangerous and horrible things in my name-”

“No-” Link whispered… Don't say that-

Zelda leaned back so she could look at him.

“I trust-” His signs were cut off without his input. His arm shook, tingling with pain pain pain- How did he ignore it before? Electricity seizing his heart with a slash of a blade. Burns curling against his hand-

“Link?”

The shaking slowed. Ae swallowed heavily, staring at aer hand.

“Zelda, may I?” Gaepora asked softly.

She nodded, making space for Gaepora to sit beside them. Zelda leaned into her father's side, sighing softly. Gaepora smiled at her, kissing the top of her head before turning back to Link.

“Link, what caused these injuries? I haven't seen anything like this before.”

He sighed, forming the words carefully with his hands, far too focused on the motions to feel anything more than monotone. “Lightning. Sword. Demon.” He hesitated, then mimed raising the Master Sword up, and the crackle of lightning traveling through it. Trapped by Fi. Then a strike to his blade, and chaos, lightning jumping from his sword and through his arm.

“Ah. That explains the intensity of the burns on your hand.” Gaepora took his right hand gently to look at, carefully. “Do you feel anything?”

Link snorted, grimacing a bit exaggeratedly, “Yes. O W.”

Gaepora shook his head, very gently squeezing his pinky, one of the least injured fingers, “Can you feel the touch, though?”

He frowned, focusing. Slowly, ae nodded.

Gaepora hummed sceptically, letting go, “I'm taking that as ‘a little’.”

Link sighed, shifting to lay flat, looking up at the ceiling. Ae supposed the scepticism was fair.

“Well. The main thing I'm concerned with is how shallow your breathing sounds and how hard your heart seemed to be working earlier. The burns and cuts should heal, but we have no way to know how that lightning will affect you.” Gaepora said softly, “We'll keep watching you, okay? Just be careful.”

Link nodded, closing his eyes again.

-*-

The woosh and thunk of the ax against the wood was pleasantly familiar, even if Link wasn't the one cutting. He watched Zelda take a final whack at the tree. It crackled and fell neatly. He sighed. She was getting the hang of it very quickly. She didn't even need any advice. With the dangerous section done, he decided he might as well help more than just supervise. The site they'd set up building the house was within shouting distance. He carefully grabbed a finished bundle of wood and started walking.

“Link! What are you doing? Be careful!” Zelda shouted as she rushed toward him.

He groaned loudly. He was going to start screaming every time he heard those words. He continued walking. He was being careful with this batch of wood, thank you very much. He wasn't even using his bandaged hand.

Zelda grabbed the wood from him, “Here, I can do it-” She said with a smile. After she'd already taken the wood. She adjusted her grip, “Do you remember what part of the frame this was for?”

Link frowned, “I had it!” He protested, throwing his hands up.

“I know!” Zelda said, smiling far too wide, “It's fine though, I can do it! It's barely anything compared to what you've done…”

He looked up to the sky, but he knew the Goddess wasn't going to guide him. … She was trying, however. He sighed. “It's for the right wall.”

“Oh perfect!” Zelda started walking, and Link sighed, following.

“So you just want me to find the right woods, and that's it, huh?” ae mumbled.

“You really should be resting, I have it handled by now-” Zelda started. She looked at him, and something about his furrowed expression must have made her smile fall slightly. She turned to look forward, “You helped a lot with the plans, you're really doing more than you need to!”

“I'm a woodworker,” Link said as an explanation. He needed to do something with his hands. Ae couldn't just sit around while everyone else helped build their house.

“And you're fantastic at it, but that doesn't mean we can't help you!” Zelda said, “Please… just let me help you.” She said softly.

Ae sighed. With another glance up at the sky, ae nodded. Silence stretched between them. It felt awkward… When did silence between them start feeling so uncomfortable?

“I love you.” Link mumbled, just to say it. To fill the space. To confirm they were still best friends.

“I know.” Zelda said, voice thick with some sort of sadness. A guilt he couldn't figure out how to stop her from believing. “I love you too.”

He watched her for a moment, carrying the burden he had intended to take. Ae sighed, gripping his bandaged hand. It stung slightly still, sending a tingle through his whole arm. “I know,” he nearly whispered, feeling like he had to force it out... Strange, how he had to grow out of his childhood silence all over again.

“Oh there you two are!” Groose shouted with a wave. “Look!” He gestured to the house's frame, nearly complete already.

Link smiled softly, “You're insane.”

“Oh wow. Impressive work Groose!” Zelda cheered. She laughed, running over to hug Groose. He blinked, face flushing bright red over her shoulder. “It's going to be so beautiful!” Zelda cheered, squeezing him.

Link laughed and meandered around the structure. He smiled, looking it over. Groose was a fantastic engineer. He sat in the grass, closing his eyes to imagine the finished work. He could just picture Zelda's fiber art hanging in the rafters and walls. Groose's little workout space in a corner. His work bench in another- his hand started shaking again. He opened his eyes, feeling a wetness well in the corners. Would he ever get back to whittling? It certainly wasn't particularly safe with a shaky hand. ...A lot of things weren't, it seemed.

A warm body settled next to him, and then another on his other side. Zelda leaned in, “Are you okay? Is it hurting? Do you need something?”

Link swallowed and shook aer head. “I'm fine.” He sucked in a breath, rubbing his eyes gently. “Just got lost in my thoughts.”

Groose nodded softly, “Sounds like you.”

Link laughed, “I guess it does.” Lost. He was always lost, wasn't he?

Zelda nuzzled in and hugged him. “Can we help you through them?” She said softly.

“No,” Link whispered impulsively. Surprising himself. Zelda looked startled, confused. Ae bit aer lip. “It's nothing bad. I was just imagining what it'd look like when it's done.” He pulled a smile on, glancing between the pair of them.

“It'll be fantastic," Zelda said softly.

“It'll be Groozsume!” Groose announced.

“That doesn't sound like what you think it sounds like,” Link laughed.

“Shut up, it totally does.” Groose laughed, ruffling Link's hair.

The trio laughed and snuggled together.

“It'll be beautiful,” Link whispered softly. He sighed, closing his eyes. The breeze tossed his hair. Warmth on either side buffetting any windchill. Zelda's perfume was still calming. But he could feel her nervous energy, her suffocating concern curled against him.

Yet… Ae would always prefer to suffer her nerves and worry over not having her near at all. He just needed her near. They'd figure the rest out. Eventually.

#linked spirit #loz au #legend of zelda #loz #linked spirit au #ls sky #ls zelda #ls groose #ls demise #angst #fic #ls writing #backstory #injury #death mention tw #ok... i think im done staring at this one #fly be free #skyward sword

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pocketramblr · 3 months

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36 for the word game, please!

36. — conditional

"You don't... want to eat my soul?" Izuku asked. Everything felt unreal, between the light around the demon and the floating sensation between Izuku and his body. Maybe it was just the bloodloss or oxygen deprivation. Maybe the demon wasn't even here. That'd be the better option, right?

"It would not be." The demon grumbled. "Young man, I'd have to be a very powerful demon to utilize souls in magic. I don't know if anyone but the demon king has ever managed it. As for eating humans... Well, yes, some demons would. But I don't."

Well, then Izuku's would-be murderers were going to be very disappointed.

"They just summoned a demon, guess there wasn't a way to phone ahead and check your interest. Sorry you got dragged into this too, then, you can leave right?" And then with no demon to fulfill their wish, Izuku's kidnappers would... Probably just kill him. He was dead anyway.

The demon's brows furrowed, his eyes shone sharp blue in black. "I could, but I don't want to leave you to your death. Nor do I want them to try again, with another summoning circle."

Oh. That was nice of him.

"Unfortunately, I can't really do anything yet until I accept or deny the contract. Until you are dead, or mine." The demon began to pace, yellow bangs swaying side to side. Izuku watched him, and didn't move from the circle painted on the ground. Moving sounded like it would hurt.

"Well, I guess..." The demon sighed, then turned back. "Ok, here's an offer: I adopt you as my son. That means accepting the contract, with another on top."

Izuku already had a dad. He thought about what his mom would say if he said yes, it would have broken her heart. But if he said no... Well she wouldn't exactly have been happy about this, either.

"As your son?"

"It would allow you safe passage to the Netherworld and would fulfill a condition of the contract."

"The Netherworld?"

"Where demons dwell. As I said, in this world... You're not long for it."

"What are the other conditions?"

"I'd need something from you. As this saves your life, you'd have to give up something too."

"My soul?"

"No, that'd be under my custody until you reach adulthood. You'd have to give up your surname."

"Oh, like, change my name on the family registry because I'd be adopted? Demons have family registries too?"

"Sorta... But no. I mean, give it up. You wouldn't ever remember your family's name here, and it'd be replaced with mine."

Oh.

It was his mom's surname.

"So if I don't agree, I die. And if I do, I forget my name and go to the Netherworld with you, and you are definitely only going to adopt me and not eat me because if you wanted to do that you already would have, I guess, and... What happens here? To make sure there isn't another summoning circle or they try to get even more people killed because it apparently works and-"

The demon waved a hand. "In accepting, I would also be sealing the deal with... them too, yes, but I can then make sure they are unable to do anymore harm with it."

"So, you wouldn't be giving them what they want?"

The demon snorted. "I'd be giving them what they think they want. And I can promise you this, they will regret it."

Izuku almost asked what it was. Almost asked what they wanted badly enough to kill him. But couldn't.

"All right. I agree."

"Really?" The demon sounded too surprised, considering he'd been trying to sell Izuku on this plan. Or, trying to get Izuku to sell on his plan?

"Yeah."

"Deal. Sign here." The demon snapped, and papers and and old pen hovered in front of Izuku. He couldn't read the paper.

He signed it anyway.

#and that's why everyone calls him 'Izuku' and no one uses Midoriya in that au #because of the conditions on the adoption #anyway! should izuku have signed a contract he can't read? no #but was it totally worth it because now he gets dad might? yes #pocket talks to people #shih shoulda had it #ask game #a familiar Netherworld au

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peterpcrkcr · 1 year

Text

Shy Girl | Peter Parker x Reader

Third person pov.

Requested by @z-iridest

3.4 k words. One shot. I definitely could see me writing more lol.

ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ

The final bell of school was about to roll on Monday. This wasn’t your average monday. It was the day a big news story was going to break and the nerves inside Peter Parker were building up.

“Alright everybody it’s the last week of school so listen up.” Mr. Harrington said in his usual anxious drol. “We have a lot to get through as you’re going to be seniors next year. That means more training, more studying, and more mental dexterity.”

No one was listening. A quiet roar of excited young minds sharing their summer plans drowned out the nearly useless info he was producing.

“Excuse me,” he said a little louder to possibly break through the chatter. “Don’t you guys care about my plans to hold up your brain prowess over the summer?”

“If I’m being honest, no.” Flash Thompson, the alternate for the team who rarely ever came to meetings spoke up. Everyone listened. Everyone except for Peter who was enthralled in a diagram he was making to keep his thoughts in order. There was too much he needed to do by the end of the week to make sure everything was covered for a full summer of crime saving. “We’re all busy worrying about what we actually give a shit about.”

“And what would that be Mr. Thompson?” The teacher asked, though plainly uninterested.

“The massive summer kickoff pool party I’m throwing this Saturday at my mansion!” He said to many cheers and applause of favor. Flash crossed his arms and nodded his head, a smug look of accomplishment across his face.

“Now that’s fine and all but we really need to be focusing on how you guys are going to-“ Mr. Harrington started to rebuff but a knock on the open door stopped him mid sentence.

“Um, Mr. Harrington?” A woman’s voice called from the doorway.

“Yes?” He responded as all the kids turned their heads toward the door.

“I know this is incredibly last minute but we have a new student at Midtown and even though the decathlon season is over, we’d like her to join now so she can feel nice and welcome come next semester.” The administrator spoke.

“Yes, that's fine.” Mr. Harrington said, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

The female administrator closed the door, leaving the students to their chatter.

“Now- Flash don’t you think there are more important things to worry about than some party you won’t remember in 20 years?” Mr. Harrington posed to his most ruthless student.

“It’s okay Mr. Harrington, you don’t have to be sad that you were never invited to parties when you were in high school.” Flash responded to a gasp and a chuckle from the crowd.

Peter couldn’t have been more uninterested. Mind wrapped up in a web of tangled thoughts and nerves and worry. 17 years old and on top of the world. He died and was brought back after half of the planet disappeared. He made a hundred powerful friends and made the news a million times. Well, not him necessarily but he was still doing really well for himself. High grades, and life was pretty easy when Happy was in charge of him considering the man was so busy running Tony Stark's estate. A deep sadness hung over Peter though. Not only had so many great things happened, many terrible and heart wrenching things had as well. He felt a sharp heat start to prick the back of his neck.

“Im gonna go to the bathroom.” He said curtly as he stood quickly from the table to walk out of the room. He stopped just a little down the hallway, not even 20 feet from the classroom he was just in.

His breathing started to quicken. Sweat beads popped up on his forehead. His fists clenched at his sides. Maybe it was too much. He wasn’t even a legal adult and yet it was like the whole world was in his shoulders. And there didn’t seem to be single person who could possibly help lift it for him.

Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Two. His shoulders relaxed. Three breaths and his fists unfurled. Four and the color returned to his face.

When he turned on his heel to head back to the room, he opened his eyes and saw a girl standing across the hall. He felt a shiver down his spine and his eyes went wide. The red returned to his face, but the color of embarrassment.

She met his gaze with wide eyes of her own. A hard pink blush bloomed over her cheeks for being caught. She had watched him leave the room and calm down. She looked down quickly.

“Been there long-?” He asked her. She nodded. “That’s embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed-“ she said quickly, still gazing at the floor. “I was doing the same thing.”

“What?” He asked, confused. “You were out here taking deep breaths so you didn’t freak out in front of everyone you know?”

“Not exactly.” She moved her foot to twiddle with a spare pencil on the ground. “I was taking deep breaths though.”

“Why?” Genuinely, Peter wanted to know.

“Well, I’m a new student during the last week of school and I’ve had an awkward day of being introduced to people who are already fully over the school year so they haven’t really cared about being super friendly.” She said glancing up at him.

“I care-“ Peter blurted out. She let out a soft burst of a laugh. “I mean. I care that you’re having a hard time. I’ve lived here my whole life so I don’t really have that problem, but I definitely know how you feel.”

“You do?” She asked, fully meeting his gaze.

“Yeah,” he smiled at her.

For a moment it was just the two of them standing in the hallway, looking into each others eyes. A silent understanding of emotion holding all of the space between them.

“Do you need help finding your class or something?” He offered.

“Ummm… not really. I was supposed to go into the room you came out of for another introduction but I couldn’t do it.” She looked away, at some student made poster celebrating the end of the school year. Peter looked over her with a soft gaze. She could feel his eyes tracing over her. “It was making me a little anxious.”

“Right-“ he stopped his eyes from wandering and placed a hand on the back of his neck. “Oh! You’re the new student!”

“Yeah.” She chuckled nervously. “That’s me.”

“I’m Peter.” He said offering the hand on the back of his neck to her.

She crossed the hallway and met his gaze. Peter’s eyes fluttered as her perfume filled his senses. Her skin looked soft and her hair was fluffed. Eyes a little red. Possibly from crying, he thought. When she took his hand he felt another shiver up his spine.

“I’m (y/n).” She smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.” They dropped hands and immediately his hand felt cold again.

“We should probably head in.” She said ducking her head toward the classroom. Peter didn’t move his eyes from her. Something was different about her. Something gentle and soft. She reminded him of a doe. Delicate and stuck in the middle of the street. His weakness. “Peter?”

“Oh, yeah. We should.” He didn’t make a move to the room though. He couldn’t. This was the first time in months that he felt his mind quiet down.

For a silent beat they locked eyes once more. There was a tenderness to it. Sharing a moment of vulnerability with a complete stranger wasn’t common for most people, but Peter had had his fair share. This was different though, because she couldn’t see Spider-Man. She couldn’t see any of it. She only saw Peter. Midtown student and anxious student.

The bell rang, unleashing them from their gaze and the students from their rooms. As the doors flew open, endless conversations erupted into the hall, filling their warm silence.

Mr. Harrington and Flash hadn’t finished their debate about partying as they headed Peters way down the hall.

“Oh! Mr. Parker!” Mr. Harrington smiled. “You must’ve found our new student!”

“Come on now Porker, you didn’t think you could call dibs before anyone even saw her, did you?”

Flash said as he pulled Peter into a tight Noogie.

Peter shoved him with a little extra strength, making Flash clash just enough with Mr. Harrington to knock his glasses off his face. Students walking by trampled right over them. The poor broke teacher bent down and picked them up.

“It’s going to be a fun summer.” Mr. Harrington said, putting the shattered glasses back on. “See you guys Wednesday.”

With that, he was off.

“Whatever Porker.” Flash said, hurrying down the hall.

This left Peter and (y/n) alone once more. Even though it wasn’t even close to silent, when he looked at her he could only hear his own heartbeat in his ears.

“I guess that means the day’s over…” she said sheepishly.

“Y-yeah… right. Okay. Well I’ll see you Wednesday?” He asked. She nodded and started as though she would walk away. He gently pinched her elbow to stop her, which sent a shockwave from her skin to his fingertips as he did it. “Hey-“

“Y-yes?” She asked stopping close to him. So close he could feel the faintest sip of her breath on his face. She didn’t look at his eyes though. Her face was very red and he could almost hear how fast her heart was beating.

“If you need anything this week I’m here for you.” He said in earnest. When she looked into his eyes again he almost wanted to say forever, but forever was never a possibility for him.

“Th-thanks, Peter.” She said with the cutest stutter, her eyes drifting to his hand. He started to blush when he realized he was still holding her elbow. He dropped his hand and looked away. “See you around.”

“Yeah. See ya.” He said, and with that she was off.

——-

“Dude you missed Flash’s party announcement.” Peter said as he spun another web to swing on his way home from school. Ned Leeds, his best and most trusted friend, was on a video call in Peter’s mask.

“It’s not my fault my aunts came to town for the spring parade. We’re doing all the touristy stuff. I can’t tell you all the stuff I learned about the Chrysler Building today. I felt like I was in school anyway-“ Ned said making Peter grin. “Wait, since when do you care about Flash’s dumb parties? Especially after the one sophomore year?”

Peter’s eyes widened in surprised thought. Ned was right. Why did he care about the party?

“I don’t know. Other than that it was a normal day.” Peter said shaking it off

“Nah, I can tell something’s up with you. Is it about the news announcement today?” Ned asked. Peter had almost forgotten about that considering his mind was wrapped around (y/n) all day.

Peter smiled. He was glad to find out he wasn’t worrying about his usual problems. Something much more exciting had entered his life.

“Well there’s a new girl and she-“

“Dude no!” Ned said. “Leave it to you to meet someone the last week of school. I’ve been single since Betty and I broke up. Wait until college, dude. That’s where the babes will be.”

Peter laughed and shook his head as he dropped in the alley by his apartment for one. 17 and living alone. He could handle it but he had never been lonelier in his life.

“You wanna come over and play COD?” He asked as he threw his backpack in his apartment window.

“Nah, I can’t. My aunties want to go to that cafe where people scream Broadway music at you while you eat.” Ned said smacking his tongue on the top of his mouth.

“Don’t have too much fun.” Peter said jokingly.

“Oh I won’t.” Ned said making Peter chuckle to himself. “I’ll be at school tomorrow morning but I’m leaving at lunch to go see a matinee of Bye Bye Birdie.”

“On a Tuesday?” Peter asked.

“It’s a seniors only showing.” Ned responded. “With the alternate cast.”

“Good luck with that.” Peter said.

“Thanks. Honestly I think I need it more than you right now.”

“Catch ya later.” Peter said. Ned threw up a peace sign and the call was over.

Peter was about to climb inside when his spider senses started going off. Something was wrong.

He closed his window and took off out of the alley. He followed the hairs on his arms toward the feeling. He started to hear the commotion as he moved to the end of the street.

Two men were cornering a young woman by some bodega dumpsters.

“I don’t have anything-“ she said with a teary, terrified voice. “Please, just go!”

“Not gonna happen little lady.” One of the thugs said, rolling up his sleeve.

“Yeah, I see that gold watch you’re wearing. And it ain’t a fake.” The second moron said as they both moved closer to her. Her back was flush against the dumpster and Peter didn’t really have a good view of the situation. No time to waste.

He shot a web at the second thug and threw him hard against the wall of the electronics sales shop next door. (Y/n) screamed in shock.

The second thug turned and started barreling toward Peter, but Peter was faster. He threw one web at his feet, encasing them together. The thug fell flat on his face, but reached quickly into his pocket for a knife.

Peter dodged it, and as it flew by his face he shot a web and the thugs back and whipped him up and into the dumpster, hard.

At this point a small crowd had gathered to watch the spectacle. The local, and world, hero had saved another citizen of New York.

He took a step toward the girl and stopped. He recognized her. (Y/n). She was crying. Shaking. Eyes wide in fear. When he stepped toward her again she tensed up and stepped even more flush against the dumpster.

“Don’t be scared.” He said reaching a hand out. She eyed him. “I’m Spider-Man.”

She didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Fear locked her up. The doe in headlights. He wanted to rip his mask off and laugh and say “haha me again!” But he wouldn’t risk that secrets weight atop her head.

“You don’t have to be afraid.” He said softly, his hand still out-stretched. She looked at his hand and relaxed her shoulders. “You can trust me.”

“You just knocked two guys out cold in like a minute. I don’t know what you could do to me.” She said with a choked voice.

“I just saved you-“ he said surprised.

“Thank you for that, I’m just taken back. You… you really hurt them.” She looked at the man still unconscious on the ground by her feet. “He’s bleeding.”

“Yeah! I’m bleeding too!” The thug in the dumpster chimed in. Peter shook head head.

This wasn’t right. He just saved her. He just took two criminals off the map. She didn’t owe him anything, of course, but this was new.

“You’re sorry for the thugs?” He asked, dropping his hand to his side.

“Well, no…” she said, looking away. “Actually yes? Kind of? They’re still people, Spider-Man.”

“Yeah, bad people.” He said plainly.

The crowd watching were chatting amongst themselves and Peter knew he had to head out soon before the police came to investigate. And before the news bulletin came out.

“IN TODAYS NEWS!” A voice bellowed from one of the television at the electronic store. He felt every hair on his body stand straight.

“We need to go.” He said to her urging her gently with his hand stretched out to her once again. She shook her head.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” She said matter of factly.

“SPIDER-MAN IS ANNOUNCED AS THE NEWEST MEMBER OF THE AVENGERS!” The voice bellowed. The crowd standing nearby started cheering. Clapping. And closing in on Peter and (Y/n).

“You’re an avenger?” She asked, marbled eyes looking into the animated eyes of his mask. He nodded.

“Yes, now let’s go.” He said stepping toward her. The crowd moved closer to them both.

“I said im not going with y-“ she didn’t have time to finish her sentence before he webbed her hip and pulled her into his side.

Up up and away to the heights of the skyscrapers and away from the investigative crowd of adoring fans.

“What the hell!” She exclaimed as her leftover tears flew from her face as they swung through town. “PUT ME DOOOOOWN!!”

She screamed into his ear, making his grip on a web falter just a little. She gripped him tighter and as he felt her body press against his, he felt an odd mix of emotions. Annoyance for the fact that she wasn’t very happy to be near him, but solace in the fact that she didn’t know it was Peter.

But if she did? If she could know he’d just saved her life would she still have those tender eyes for him in the hallway? Would she even look at him again?

“I’ve got you.” He said in a tone so soft she felt her breath relax in her chest. “Relax.”

“How!?! I’m like 100 feet high!” She asked.

“More like 500.” He said, which made her hold him tighter. He could definitely feel her racing heart against him. “I won’t drop you.”

“You can’t tell me that!” Her eyes were closed. Closed since she lifted off of the ground.

“Feel the wind, (y/n).” She opened her eyes to stare at the masked crusader. “Enjoy the moment.”

She then felt her entire body take a deep breath. She could feel the wind on her face. The push and pull of his swinging motions. The leap of gravity as they played between the earth and the sky. She started to look around and she started to laugh.

Peter had never heard a more gleeful sound in his entire life.

“Woohoo!!” She yelled as they swung through the burough. “This is awesome!”

Peter watched where he was going most of all, but when he knew the next placement of his web, he watched her. Watched the fear fly away with the wind in her hair. He grinned at every yelp she made, every cheer. Her eyes were shining and sparkling in the light of the evening sun.

When they reached their destination, which was just around the corner from the high school, he set her down. Her legs were like jelly as she took a step. He caught her softly in his arms before she stumbled forward. This time she wasn’t afraid of his touch. She leaned into him. He could tell she could feel his warmth. His body. She wrapped her arms around him and held him. He didn’t know what to do for a second but when he wrapped his arms around her, it was like a glow covered them in their embrace.

Peter couldn’t tell if it had been a minute or ten that she held him. And she was really holding him.

“Thank you for saving me.” (Y/n) said as she pulled out of the hug. She put a large step between them. Brushed a piece of hair behind her head, and looked at the ground by his feet. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah…” Peter said dreamily. Until he realized who he was at the moment. He straightened up and started to chuckle with a hand on the back of his neck. “Well citizen, I’ll leave you to your day.”

“Right…” she started as though to walk away but turned quickly back to him. He tensed before she stopped right in front of him and kissed him on his clothed cheek. “Thanks again, Spider-Man.”

“Oh yeah. Yeah. Don’t mention it. Haha…” he had never been more thankful for his mask in his life as he knew he had probably never had his face this red before. “Bye.”

“Bye.” She said, pulling out her phone to make a call. Probably to her parents. Or a taxi. Or the cops.

All Peter knew were the butterflies in his stomach and how he couldn’t wait until Wednesday to see (y/n) again. He was going to ask if she wanted to go to Flash’s party with her. And he hoped more than anything that she would say yes.

#long post #sorry I’m on mobile and idk how to add a post block for a long one so I’m posting this and I’ll add it when I get on my laptop.#peter parker #Peter Parker x reader #imagine #Spider-Man #one shot #fic #wiriting

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