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hana-no-seiiki · 6 months ago

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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒 𝐔𝐏 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 ?

╰┈➤ [ CH 02.1 ] LEAP OF FAITH

pairings: yandere! various (batfam, spiderverse) x miles morales! reader

tw/cw: mild yandere themes, stalking, spoilers for the spiderverse movies (this part covers a majority of the first one) and spiderman games. VV LONG PART!! Lots of canon divergences!!! reader gets called a kid multiple times but they’re an adult.

status: severely unedited

a/n: although i included spanish and uncle aaron, please be reminded that [y/n] looks however you’d like! you may even alter how unc looks since i don’t describe his appearance anyways. i’ll also be adding stuff from the spiderman games to expand on some characters so everything is not one to one from the movies.

wanted to get this out sooner for you all so this part will be divided into two or more depending on how far i get into the movie

[previous] [masterlist] [next]

The dark, putrid alleyways of Gotham was a place that should never be treaded by a small, weak kid like you. You cringed at the sound and feel of your favorite shoes sinking into the water with every step, and then frowned at the thought that your mom wouldn’t be the one washing these later now that you lived in a dorm. Still, even if those criminals didn’t capture you for ransom, or maybe your favorite vigilantes didn’t accidentally kill you, you were sure your dad would — no absolutely will. Maybe having a new home to go to wasn’t so bad.

“I’m gonna get in so much trouble.”

You muttered with a massive grin on your features. Fear always treated you a little differently. If anything it made you walk a little faster. It had been a while since you and Aaron had little fun together, and you definitely wouldn’t let a future sermon get in the way of such a rare opportunity.

Your uncle, his hands tucked into his puffer jacket-hoodie hybrid nudged you with his shoulder. Your much smaller, younger frame almost toppled over.

“Hey man, tell him your art teacher made ya.”

“How’d you know about this place?”

“Did an Engineering job down here.” Whew, even hearing the word Engineering from your Uncle made you shudder. “What?” He asked, you couldn’t tell if he was concerned, weirded out, or just chillin’. He was always hard to read.

“Nothing.” You took a deep breath in, “Dad wants me to get into Engineering.”

You two stop at some metal fencing with a door, which was conveniently climbable. Your uncle quickly demonstrated how with a few swift moments. Damn, it was almost as if he was used to breaking and entering.

“And you?” He smirked.

“I-“ You took a deep breath, It wasn’t as if you weren’t used to getting into shenanigans and sneaking into places yourself. You jumped, barely able to reach the door’s height, awkwardly heaved your body upwards to the gap between the fence and the ceiling, before not so gracefully squeezing yourself and your backpack through. “augh — don’t know yet.”

“Whassup?” You looked at your uncle, a huge and crooked grin of triumph in your features.

“Hahaha— I knew we were related. I’ll tell you something though. Just make sure you can pay the bills and sort out your taxes.”

You groaned in response to his advise. You definitely weren’t ready to be a proper adult yet.

You two then proceeded to the best spot you’ve ever seen in Gotham yet.

“Whoa!” Your mouth was so wide open in awe that it almost hurt. You yelled, “Gothaamm!!” Jumping giddily at the echo.

“There’s a lot of history on these walls.” Your uncle let his hand graze across the old graffiti, tracing each line with a soft, yet proud look on his face.

Excited, you swiftly dropped your backpack, taking out a few cans of paint. “This is so fresh.” And so you did your thing. Letting your instincts guide you as you got back into the groove of spray painting. It had been a while, your hands were shaky at times, but nonetheless you were in your element. Free. Unafraid of mistakes or the far future.

You smiled, truly, for once since your enrolment. There was just a few last touches.

“A little help?”

“Wow.”

“Too crazy?”

“Nah, man. [N/N] I see exactly what you’re doing here.” Aaron patted you on the back before he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “You know, your dad and I used to do this back in the day.”

“Stop lyin’! A guy a like him? I bet he snitch on ya right after.”

“No, no, it’s true! But then he took on the cop thing and . . . I don’t know.” Your uncle had a tense look appear on his face. As if he tasted something bitter. And then, a distant, yet sweet nostalgic one replaced it as the words escaped his lips, “He’s a good guy . . . just . . . you know what I’m sayin?”

“Speaking of good. You don’t have to act all strong when you’re with me.” He gave you a light punch to your arm. “I knew you two were close. Heck, I made a couple of bets that you two would get married in the future. Didn’t know I’d lose to nature of all things.”

“Wait. Hang on— bets?!” Blood rushed to your face. You feel warm and cold at the same time. Were you two that obvious?

“I didn’t know him that well. But what I do know is that he put a huge smile on your face. Bigger than any of the ones I could ever draw on ya.” His rubs his thumb to the corner of your lips, “So feeling bad that he’s gone? That’s a given, kid.”

“Thanks, unc.” You leaned into his touch, “But it really isn’t Miguel. It’s—“

His phone rang. Damn.

“Sorry, [N/N]. I gotta roll.”

“No problema.”

A grave look flicked across your uncle’s features. Must have been the stress from work you supposed. Being called at this hour? You were dreading Engineering even more.

“[Y/N]! We gotta go.”

Turns out spending most of the night outside in the cold right before school was a bad idea. It was as if everything was irritating you. Your clothes felt tighter, your sweats… sweatier. Wait. This could only mean one thing.

“I think I hit puberty!” You exclaimed. Finally you could be as tall as those other kids in school.

Realizing you yelled that out loud and startled your roommate was a tad bit embarrassing though. “. . . Ehehe. . . sorry.”

‘I gotta get new clothes.’

‘Wait, why is the voice in my head so loud?’

“Watch where you’re—“ Of all the people you bump into . . . “[L/N].” Damian’s beautiful green eyes would have been great to stare at if he didn’t use them to glare at everyone. You almost shriek at the random tingle you feel behind your neck. Why were you getting goosebumps all of a sudden? I mean he is hot but not that hot.

“You know my—“

“Yeah. I know everyone’s.” He quickly overtook your attempt at a conversation. “6pm. Weekend. Don’t be late, 42.” And there he goes.

Wait, wasn’t that your raffle number?

“How does he know— He- He really has some issues.” You shook your head. Your mom often brought you around the community to help and whatnot, as such you weren’t that fazed when people just knew stuff about you without knowing who they are.

“Talk about it.” In anycase, you know who’s actually that hot?

“Gwen!”

“Hi. You called me by name for once.” Her eyes traveled all over your body, and it took everything in you not to grin like an idiot, scream and turn red all at the same time. “Are you alright or . . ? You’re sweating, like a lot.”

Shit. Damn your body for betraying you! “I am?”

“Hang on.” She brings forth a face towel, a little damp to the touch, but useful nonetheless.

“Sorry, it has my own sweat on it.”

“It’s great, I mean fine! Thank you.” Holy shit you just sweat melded with Gwen. Laughing awkwardly you give it back to her. Or at least attempt to.

“Uh, you can let go now.”

“I think . . . I think it’s stuck to my hand?”

“What?”

“I- It won’t come off!”

You suddenly feel a static, and judging from Gwen’s face, you know she felt it too.

“What was that?!”

“Okay, [Y/N] listen. Pay close attention. I need you to calm down.”

“Calm down?! How does calming down help?!”

“It’ll be much more helpful for you to be calm rather than panicked at the very least!” Gwen slowly inhaled and exhaled. Damn was she good at everything she does? How is she not panicking like you were? “Breathe in, and out.”

In anycase, a couple of breathing exercises later and a horrid excuse to not make your crush — and hence why your nerves were on end despite the calm atmosphere of a library — that obvious. You two part ways.

Well not without a final word from her.

“We have to talk later” She says. The lighthearted, calm tone turned serious.

You don’t know how you got to this moment. Somewhere, sometime when you were running away from the school guards because of your new found powers — you found yourself in a middle of a fight between Spiderman and The Lizard.

“Dr. Curtis, listen to me! You cannot open up a portal to another dimension. Gotham is not zoned for that. We’re barely surviving here in the first place!” Geez harsh dig, but man was he right. You don’t know how many days your mom spent crying wondering if your dad would come back after being sent to fight Joker of all people.

Still your dad never fails to intimidate you. Despite your powers being oddly similar to Spiderman, you think it’d be best if you left before your parents started calling—

“It’s not up to me!”

You gulped, perhaps the lizard looked a little more imposing than a sermon.

“Why won’t you quit?!”

“I guess I like Gotham not being sucked into a black hole?! Metropolis maybe, not Gotham!”

You gasp as the floor beneath you disappears, you find yourself free falling.

THWIP!

“You’re cute. And your shoes are untied.” As if you weren’t already out of breath, Spiderman just had to call you cute while you were basically heaving from all the physical activity and the anxiety of having a giant lizard on your ass. “I’m basically wearing a onesie so I don’t really have to worry about it.” The man makes it worse and approaches you, holding up your Air Jordan’s and tying it laces.

You feel a tingle down your spine that flows down your limbs. One that looped over and over like some sort of feedback. Same as Gwen’s but somehow stronger.

Spiderman snapped his head from your shoes to your face once more. The white eye-like part of his mask widened.

“You’re a Spider, too? Damn.” Spiderman mouthed the last word breathlessly, though it didn’t seem to be out of being tired. He seemed quite . . . relaxed almost. He was in his element.

You shook your head, “I don’t want to be . . .” And clearly, you weren’t being good enough for it if you couldn’t handle even half of what he’s doing.

“We don’t have a choice.” The unyielding nature of his statement took you aback. You weren’t sure if it was out of awe or fear for the future.

“Got a lot going through your head I’m sure. You’re gonna be fine, I can help you. Show you the ropes? I just needta destroy that big machine before the space time continuum collapses. Try not to move around too much.” He gives your shoes one last tug, and you see the mask shift a little around his mouth area. He’s smiling.

He then styles on you by backflipping unto a rail, doing the classic “hero stake out” pose before he saluted, “See ya.”

“Crap.” Spiderman mouthed as the entire contraption collapsed.

“What happened there?! Are you alright?!" You ran to his frankly, horrid state of self. On the floor, bruised and beaten. His mask torn on one of his eyes, revealing a brilliant blue.

“Talk later, escape now.” He coughed, spitting out some blood.

“Right. Where do I. . .?” Crap. Were you really going to learn about Spiderman's real identity just like that? You wondered were such a man lived. Prolly up town where all the socialites were. Dude's probably neighbors with the likes of Bruce Wayn-

“ . . . Gotham Visions Dormitory.”

“I can’t believe Spiderman just slept next door and he’s a senior in my school!”

“Sshhhh! And yeah, well. The world is a small place. Gotham’s even smaller.” He puts a finger on your lips. A sigh escaped his. Seconds pass before he continued, “I just can’t believe Papa’s kid would be my protégé.”

“You-You-Y-You heard that?!”

“I hear a lot of things.”

You nodded at him. You too have heard many things since your powers first manifested. You wonder how he can handle so much stimuli every single day while going to Visions and being a badass hero.

What were you supposed to do again? Right - ! You had a spider to save. You swiftly shuffled through his belongings. Strangely enough you don't see any pictures of him lying around. Not that you wanted to sneak a peek as to how those pretty blue eyes fit into the picture. Not at all.

After a minute or so, you find a first aid kid and begin mending the most damaging areas of his body. Thankfully you don't spot nor feel foreign objects stuck inside him and it seems as if he's already healed many of the minor wounds.

Superheroes man. So cool.

“You seem pretty experienced with handling this kind of stuff. Should I be concerned?”

“Had a friend that got beaten up quite a lot. Picked it up for him. May I?" You gestured to his mask.

“I . . . see. And go ahead. I need a breather and this thing ain't helping."

You patted his face and neck for any indication of where to pull, finding a slit underneath his chin. Gingerly, you tugged on the latex like fabric.

Your [e/c] meeting those baby blues once more, only more clearly now.

And the fan blogs about him were so right, he is blond!

That would make him the second blondie you've had the feedback loop with now that you thought about it. You were about to mention Gwen but -

“Harry!” Spiderman covered the rest of his body with blanket so quickly that you barely even processed the new person by the time he finished making his move.

What the heck- why'd he even let you- was he just making fun of you- using you-

“Pete. Woah. You look . . .” 'Harry' looked at your new Spider tutor with a mildly concerned glance. Not even moving to help you with the first aid.

“Yeah yeah. You know the drill."

“And you . . .” Harry's eyes drift to your spot. You look away, scared of making direct eye contact. Great, another hot guy.

“Papa’s kid. I know.” You mumbled. A rising sense of resentment for your father ebbed and flowed within your spider venom infested veins.

“No no. There is that yeah, but I mean. You’re the one Peter kept—“

“Harry!” 'Peter' groaned. Huh, you never expected Spiderman to have such a nerdy name.

“Fine. Though, he wasn’t lying. You really are cute.”

Peter groaned even louder this time, an achievement considering his face was buried in a pillow for this round.

“You called me cute earlier too, why are you hiding now?”

“That’s different!”

“Woah, Peter called you cute? To your face? Who are you and what have you done to my friend?”

“Shut up.”

You sense an upcoming wave of awkward silence. As such, the kind person that you were, you quickly finished helping Peter with the injuries he had exposed and stated, “That should be it. My room is just next door. To the left. I’ll be there if you need me.”

You silently return the first aid kid where it belonged and sneak your way to the door as if the two men weren't staring at you at this moment. "Goodbye um- sir Peter. Sir Harry."

And then you were gone.

“You don’t mind if we share right?”

“Harry. Could you not? I’m serious.”

“Woah. What’s with the attitude and volume?”

“I. . . like them. A lot. You know this already.” Peter suddenly had this longing look on his face. Equal parts in hopeless romantic and obsession.

“Clearly I didn’t truly comprehend the extent of your yearning ‘til now. Sheesh. Okay, they’re all yours.” Harry paused for dramatic effect, “For now.”

“Harry!”

“Hey, uh — Gwen. Got caught up in something. I’ll talk to you after I’m done with . . . everything. I should be free just before next week starts. See ya.”

Click!

You were never really good with excuses. Your mind raked through everything you knew just to give Gwen that message.

In anycase, overwhelmed as you were. Your feet took you to one place the anxiety and stress seemed to melt away (aside from Uncle Aaron’s crib).

“This week just keeps getting worse.” You sighed, slamming the window to your room shut after sneaking in.

Well, getting in and getting caught right after.

“Police! Put your hands up!” Your father exclaimed. But his voice doesn’t alert you at all. If anything you were bracing yourself for the sermon right after.

“Wait a sec. [Y/N]?” Your mother appeared from behind him with a frying pan in hand.

You took a deep breath. Facing them both.

How could you say that you were afraid? Scared? Unbelievably crushed underneath all this pressure about going to Gotham Visions and possibly becoming a hero of your own soon.

You'd have to fight giant lizards. Giant sandstorm creating men.

And all you had was you,

and your family.

“[Y/N]—? Why aren’t you at—“ You rushed to hug your dad. Encasing the old man with your arms so tight that it almost took the wind out of the poor officer. “Woah woah. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“. . . No. No it’s . . . “ Not. Everything is not okay. You were about to take on the responsibility of a lifetime. Something you couldn’t – shouldn’t — escape even if you all you wished was to run away from it all.

“[Y/N]? Qué te pasa? Is it the earthquake?” Your mother joined in the hug. Rubbing your back as her other hand held her husband (frying pan put aside).

“Can I sleep here tonight?” You asked.

“[Y/N], it’s a weeknight. You made a commitment to that school.”

“Jeff, they’re upset.”

“Of course you can stay.” Your father immediately changed tune. Heh, he really was weak to your mother.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really hate Spiderman?”

“Yeah. . ? I mean, for a vigilante he isn’t as bad as that friend of his, Red Hood—“

“Jeff, mi amor?”

“What? They asked me! Baby you know how I feel about those people c’mon.” Your father’s voice fades away, taking your mother’s stern look as a sign that he may not be wanted there all too much at the moment.

“Tú sabes que él te quiere mucho. That’s why he’s tough on you. You know that, right?”

“Mhm. I . . . I know.” You knew. But most of the time than not you couldn’t fully comprehend or understand your father. Despite clearly never appreciating or responding well to his tough love approach, he kept doubling down and forcing what he thought was good for you. “Mami. Do you ever think about moving out of Gotham?”

Your mother shook her head.

“Our family doesn’t run from things, [Y/N].”

“What’s this?” You gestured the red box Peter handed you. It was wrapped by some blue ribbon.

“My old suit. Figured we should get that part right before anything else.” He watches you with a smile as you opened it. “It’ll just be a placeholder before I give your measurements to my aunt.”

“Your aunt?”

“My partner in crime. Well — fighting crime. Aside from Jace. But we don't talk about him behind his back otherwise he'll just suddenly appear like the devil." He whispered the last part into your ear. Jace? Was that another vigilante? Sounds like a pompous name. Or maybe you’ve been watching Arcane way too much in anticipation for the next season.

“This is . . . a bit too big.”

“Who knows? It might fit, eventually. Spider puberty is a little finicky.”

“Tell me about it.” You’ve gone through a lot of your handkerchiefs from all the sweat you’ve been excreting.

“You mind?” He gestured his hands in a pulling down motion. You tilted your head in confusion but then slowly pieced together that he wanted to help you put it on.

“Go ahead.”

“That should be it.” He patted your back after securing your suit on.

It sagged a bit on your body, but worked nonetheless.

“That static, tingly thing in our heads. What’s that?”

“Spider-sense. It alerts you of incoming danger. It should do you well to listen to it.”

“Listen to static??”

“You’ll learn its language soon enough. In anycase, first on today’s agenda! Web-slinging. Very important. That’s how we get to any place at any time, whenever someone needs us. It’s what puts me — now us — Spiderpeople ahead of other vigilantes in the area.” He said with what you could assume was a big grin on his face by the way his mask moved.

“Alright. What do I do?”

“Just jump across and —“ Peter flicked his wrist forward, almost hitting you with the sticky goo that makes up his web.

You nod. This should be easy enough right?

Jump and flick. Jump and flick.

What you failed to calculate within your plans was that flicking your wrist needed to be timed precisely otherwise your web would not reach its proper destination.

“AAAAAAAH—!” You screamed as your webs landed on air, your body falling down.

With your eyes sewn shut, you fully expected a crash and the painful reality of falling at least 5 stories.

But somehow, you miraculously get caught. You opened your eyes and . . .

“Woah.” Your mouth went agape. If Peter was cute, whoever just saved your ass (literally) was pretty. Impeccable pale skin, dark and mysterious blue eyes that screamed sleepless but nonetheless striking, and oh his hair. Jet black. Perfectly framing his face.

And as if the heavens decided to reward you for trusting Peter's guidance and taking the fall (literally), it seemed that the ogling was not one-sided, “Are you an angel from heaven?” You both say in sync.

It had not been a moment since that came out from your mouth and you already regretted it. Augh. Cringe.

“Timmy! Old pal!” Peter landed behind him with a large smack to the shoulder, almost making this ‘Timmy’ drop you. “I see you’ve met my protégé.”

“Spider . . .” Peter struggled to put a title on you, “ . . . baby meet Timothy “Tim.” Drake, my underclassman. Timsies, meet my new partner.”

“He knows?” You whispered, as if Tim wasn't there still holding unto to you.

“Yep, he’s actually the Red Robin.” Peter whispered back, playing along with you.

“Peter!” Tim whisper-shouted, smacking Peter’s nape. Not before putting you down gently, of course. What a gentleman.

“R-r-red RobIN?! I’m such a huge fan! I - I bought all of your merch and—“ An alarm went off from inside your suit. You curse as you realized that getting your phone out to close it would take ages. Thankfully you knew what it meant however.“Crap. I gotta go.”

“Go where—?” Peter questioned.

“Well, I have this project with this kid from my class, Damian Wayne?”

“You were partnered with him? Good luck.” Tim had a look of both pity and a hint of delight.

“That happens to be Tim’s little brother.” ‘Barely’ the person in question muttered. “Why don’t I bring you there? Think I should have given you a proper example before throwing you off a building.”

“Why am I not surprised that you almost broke someone’s back with your antics? One day you’ll get ‘em killed.”

Peter doesn’t even answer him properly, “Oh no, your coffee.”

“Ah.” Tim stared at the brown stain in the snow. “I’ll just buy another one. Take care you two.”

And you somehow don’t throw up as Peter took you to the skies. He gives you pointers once on air. Something about wrist angles, pendulum theories and a whole bunch of physics. Unfortunately for him, half of the time was spent with you being thinking and being distracted by how pretty Tim was.

“You’re a godsend. Sometimes.” At least, even with the crap spider tutelage, being a baby spider meant free, fast rides across the New York.

“Just your friendly neighborhood spider.”

You heard lightning in the distance.

“Never gets old.” Peter put his hands on his hips. Neither surprised nor creeped out by the eerie ambiance. “Don’t worry about the creepy atmosphere, the Waynes are huge softies inside. I’ll pick you up at . . . ?”

“Oh, no no no! I’ll be fine. You’ve already helped a lot. (and almost killed me a couple of times) Thank you.” You vehemently denied his help. Fearing for what may happen despite the safe journey here.

“Always here to help. Or not. Good luck, Spiderbaby!”

“You’re on time.” The green-eyed classmate of yours looked raised his annoyingly perfect eyebrows. Considering your track record with classes, you couldn’t blame him.

“Of course.” Damian terrified you way too much for you to be late. He does not reply, so you open your mouth to keep the atmosphere from being too awkward, “Nice place you—“

“No small talk. Now that you’re done fulfilling the bare minimum. We can begin. Follow me.”

He led you through a bunch of hallways. Probably filled with antiques that would make your entire neighborhood go bankrupt. Your past experiences in rich people’s houses made you repeat one thing in your head as your treaded the extravagantly carpeted hall

‘Keep your arms to the side.’ His voice bounced around in your head. Echoes of the past that you've buried for so long. The moment you even raised a finger, you could be charged for theft. Especially if the owner was extra elitist and a douche. Like how his dad used to be.

“Woah, you draw too? These are so cool!” You ogled as you and Damian reached his room. It was as fancy as you expected it to be. Dreary and dark if not for the presence of animal toys and art supplies.

“I said no—“

You continued yapping, far too excited by the concept of Damian having something in common with you to stop. “A whole Windsor and Newton set, of course. I could only wish to have these.” You sighed dramatically. If only you could—

You feel static down your spine. Just by the width of a hair you managed to dodge Damian throwing a paintbrush at you. You look behind to see the wooden end of it stuck within a wall.

“What the heck, that could have hurt!”

“You have good reflexes.”

“Not even a sorry?” Damian raised one of his eyebrows (which are super thick now that you looked closely) and then gave you one scathing hot glare. “Fine, fine.”

It took about half an hour before you found yourself dosing off to dreamland.

“What are you doing? We don’t have all night to work—“

“I’m done. Been waiting for you for forever.”

“Give me that.” He snatched your paper off of your hands.

“Hey!”

“This is . . . acceptable.” He then waved your paper around before slamming it unto the table. “Only that it doesn’t hold any substance at all. It’s too vague. Our teacher told us to talk about our personal experiences. Not hypothetical ones.”

“I’m afraid if I write my personal experiences it’d be way too depressing.” You half joked. Trying yet failing to get a laugh out of your partner to ease the mood. A terrible one to pick for that reason but hey, playing dumb this entire year was your forte at this point.

Maybe cause you were actually a little stupid in some places.

“Then write it.”

“I just said—“

“So what if your life is depressing? It’s your own life. Your story. If she judges you for being honest then it’s her fault.”

“Damian?” Your mouth agape in awe, you said, “You’re so cool, y’know that?”

Besides being the son of Bruce Wayne, he was also the little brother of your favorite hero. You’ve also heard of the rumors. How perfect Damian was at everything. Some people were just favored by the Gods you supposed.

“I know. Besides it’s what was written in the instructions.” Damian huffed. Again, seemingly unaffected by your words. Understandably so, he probably got praised on the daily with how utterly immaculate he was.

Kind of makes you want to push his buttons.

“To be honest, you seemed so scary I almost bailed. Glad my fear of angering you outweighed my fear of you in general.”

“Hm.” Nope. Nothing at all. At least, nothing that you’ll ever see. As the moment you looked away out of boredom, an ever so faint smirk etches itself unto Damian’s countenance.

The rest of the evening passed in silence. Nothing comfortable, you were in an eerie mansion with one of the scariest people you knew after all, but nothing too awkward or chilling either.

“Bye Damian! It was nice working with you!” You waved, making your exit. A sense of relaxation and slight euphoria in your veins as you finally got whatever that was done.

“They seemed nice.”

Damian does not reply to Alfred’s words verbally. Only nodding as a polite response before he left.

Alfred stared at your form as it grew smaller. “. . . albeit a tad familiar.”

“Hey, Mig.” Your body instinctively relaxed as you saw the picture frame above his gravestone, right next to a large bouquet of fresh flowers; a thin layer of snow atop of it.

You wiped it off from both items, before proceeding to kneel down as you always did during your visits, “I missed ya.” You began.

“I’ve been a bit behind on my Spanish lessons, and I haven’t had much use for it since, you know.” Your hand moved around, animated. “Everything has just been so hectic. I feel like every single time I thought things were at its worst the world just piles on more duties for me to take.” And then it fell back to your side.

You bury your face into your knees.

“Is this what you felt like?” You recalled the hours he spent perfecting table manners and speech. The way his life was turned upside down by a single revelation of his parenthood. “Your dad got a lot nicer when you were gone. Your death was definitely a wake-up call to his prejudices. He even offered to pay for my fees at Visions.”

Of course, you refused. Citing the fact that now that Miguel was gone there was no use to niceties. It was too late, your opinion of him and those rich folks who walked all over you would never change no matter how much they poured.

. . . Actually, you change your mind. With the way the current Spiderman was teaching you, you might need some help paying a couple hospital bills along with damages of property.

“You are supposed to be where I am. I bet you’d do a lot better as a Spiderman too.”

In fact, you believed that he would have been perfect. Miguel was the kindest, most self sacrificing person you knew. He would have taken this responsibility with stride and his head held high.

If only you had a better teacher. Someone who was more practical and had more experience.

“Hey Kid.”

After what felt like a chase and a half, you managed to bring the man you knocked out back home. It took a while but you knew your father had some rope, a punching bag, and a place where you wouldn’t get caught (your room, securely locked with a table).

But most importantly, what your dad had was a lot of movies with cops/detectives in them. Interrogation techniques were always something he’d discuss and use on you whenever you’d do something against the house’s ‘laws.’ Which was… more often than not.

“Why do you look like Peter?”

“Because I am Peter.”

You looked at him with a face of utter disbelief. Gesturing to his form you questioned, “Then why are you older? Why is your hair different? Why is your nose broken? And why is your body a-a different . . . shape?”

“Did you just call me fat?”

“N-no- just different!”

“Hey listen kid. Fat shaming isn’t a part of cute privilege alright?”

Ignoring the part where this random ass stranger called you cute, for the sake of this conversation’s brevity and your curiosity you surmised the following, “Are you . . . Are you from another dimension, like from a parallel universe where things are like this universe but different and you’re Spiderman in that universe but somehow traveled to this universe, but-but you don’t know how?”

“Wow cute and smart. That was really just a guess?”

“Learned about it in physics. Visions really drills those in within the first month.”

“Quantum Theory.” You two mouthed in sync.

“This is amazing! I can have two teachers! You seem a bit more experienced too. Maybe I can minimize the bones I break this way!”

“Yeah right.” He swiftly dismissed your idea. Groaning at the thought of dealing with what was basically a child in comparison to his experience.

“Please?”

“Well here’s lesson one kid; don’t watch the mouth. Watch the hands.” And the whole thing that tied him to the punching bag unraveled. Damn it, that took you at least an hour to do! Not only that but the man then kicked the thing at you, making you slam backwards unto a door. Yikes.

“Other Peter, seriously—!” And now you have his web all over your mouth. Great.

“Trust me, kid. This’ll all make you a better Spiderman.” Peter—or whoever this rude man was—jumped out of your window and slung a web, ready to leave. But before he could take off, his body suddenly glitched, the distortion rippling across his form, and he crashed downward, slamming through a set of stairs with a loud thud.

“Hey, are you - are you . . . okay?” You asked, wiping off the remnants of his web from your lips. “What’s going on with your body?”

“I don’t think my atoms are all jazzed about being in the wrong dimension.” He turned his body around, facing you and glitching once more. “Look, I’m not looking for a side gig as a Spiderman coach. ‘Sides you already have one! With a not broken nose! And I got a little going lot on in my dimension.”

“I heard a wise guy once saying that with great power comes great—“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence! Don’t do it! I’m sick of it!” He pointed at you with an accusatory finger, his voice trembling with frustration. And then he glitches again. Huh you might have felt bad if he didn’t just kick and webbed you. “Want my advice? Go back to being a regular kid. We already have a bunch of vigilantes in Gotham I’m sure they can work things out.” He spoke as he hung from a platform with one hand.

“I’m part of this now. I can’t just run away! That supercollider could potentially destroy my universe, everything and everyone I know!”

“What did you say?” Suddenly, Peter turned his head to look at you.

“I can’t just run away?”

He started walking towards you, feet sticking to the brick walls like a natural, “Blah blah responsibility! Who cares about that? Where’s this collider?”

“Under Fisk Tower.”

“Goodbye.” He walks back down the walls. Tearing the eye contact he held with you just seconds ago like it was nothing.

“Where are you going?”

“When it runs, I’ll jump in and get back to my life.”

“You can’t let them run it! You don’t even know if you’ll get sent to the correct dimension much less be alive through it all!” You attempt to follow him, not so gracefully sliding down the walls, “We’re supposed to destroy it so it doesn’t run at all and cause — I don’t know — a rupture in the—“

“‘Space time continuum’ That is what they always say. But there’s always a little bit of time before everybody dies and that’s when I do my best work.”

“You’re really gonna go home and leave me, a kid mind you, to figure this out all by myself?”

“No, I’m leaving you with other, frankly speaking, much more responsible vigilantes to fix whatever aftereffects of that thing is.”

“You good with that Spiderman?”

“Yeah.”

You sighed, falling to your knees.

Older Peter looks back at you from the rooftop with the most unamused look he's ever had this whole night. “What are you doing?”

“Using my ‘cute privilege’ to make you feel guilty. Is it working?”

“I hate kids. How could it— No. Look at me. Does it look like it’s working? No, no it’s —Ohohoho. AAAHH! NO! NO! DO NOT LET THEM WIN!”

You muster all your will not to smile or laugh at his mighty attitude falling at the face of your cuteness.

“Alright kid, you win. We don’t have a second to lose. Bring me to your Spiderman mentor you mentioned.”

“Mmm. I love this burger. So delicious. Mmm. One of the best burgers I’ve ever had. In my universe this place closed six years ago. Mmm. I don’t know why. I really don’t. Mmm!” Peter Burnout spoke as he gorged himself in food. Some of the ketchup spraying to yours and OG Peter's face.

A waiter passes by and drops a bill on your table.

“You have money, right? I’m not very liquid right now.”

“I can’t believe you replaced me!” Peter cried as he looked at his older, more . . . rotund counterpart.

“Peter. Sir. Respectfully speaking super healing doesn’t really help with pain from broken bones. If anything I’m just grateful I didn’t give my parents a whole buttload of debt from my injuries.”

“And I was — pfft — really sorry about that!”

“You’re still laughing about it!” You yelled, watching Peter do his best to hide his amusement at your predicament. This man who so calmly took care of a giant wizard and a world ending collider, did not have the chops for acting or lying at all. “Back to the topic at hand people. Any Spiderman tips Other-Peter?”

“Yeah I got plenty.” He said as he licked his fingers clean. Gross.

“Disinfect the mask. You’re gonna wanna use baby powder in the suit, heavy on the joints. You don’t want any chafing, right?”

“That . . . is actually pretty useful.” You nod, bringing out your phone to quickly type down his words. Although you didn’t have a proper suit yet, you always wonder how heroes felt underneath all that tight latex like material. Of course, you’ve attempted cosplays and whatnot but those have always been with cheap, sweat inducing products.

“Speaking of, your suit should be ready in a bit. Do you have a color of preference?” Your Peter brings up.

“Think I’ll go with [Color(s)] and Red. Just to match up with you a little.” You replied, attempting your best version of your Uncle’s cool nonchalant smile as you were gushing in excitement inside. You then looked back to Peter B. “Anything else?”

“Nope, that was everything.”

“And I thought OG Peter was bad.”

“Hey!” Peter clutched his chest as he feigned hurt. You only deadpan at him, a broken heart won’t soothe your broken bones.

“Look up more about Fisk Tower and whoever you fought at the collider.” Peter B. instructed as he grabbed your french fries.

“Kingpin.” You muttered, typing down ‘Fisk Tower’ as per his instruction.

“Him? Must have been tough that one.”

“Alchemax?”

“Great. We have a lead. Now check where it is.”

“Hudson Valley.”

“Other-Peter can teach me to swing on the way there!” You make a ‘thwip’ ‘thwip’ ‘thwip’ motion with your hands, a huge excited smile gracing your features.

And… it’s quickly replaced with a disappointed frown once you three stepped into a bus, “I’m not swinging to the Hudson Valley! Not after a hearty burger breakfast. Keep your arms and legs fresh. You’re gonna thank me later.”

“Still think I’m a bad teacher.” Peter nudges you with his elbow, a stupidly cute grin on his face.

“Yep.” Peter loses his confident smirk real quick, “Not the worst but still bad. To be fair to Peter B. he hasn’t gotten me injured yet.”

“That’s a no on the cape.”

“But it’s my latest Robin merch I wanna have it for my first mission—“

“No.” The two Spidermen stated in sync, though one much more sternly than the other.

OG Peter pinches the bridge of his nose, “Do you know how many times I’ve had to help the Robins with their cape related problems? I’ve told every single one of them that it won’t work, but they just have to follow Batman’s footsteps.”

“So the theory about the Robins being different people really is true huh…” You thought to yourself, knowing that your two mentors could probably hear you even if you mumbled.

Other Peter also pinches the bridge of his (less perfect) nose, “Yeah take that off. It’s disrespectful. Both to the mantle of Spiderman and every Incredibles movie there is.”

You pout but heed their advice. You took off the yellow and black cape, a sniff in grief follows.

“Okay spiderfolks here’s the plan: Step 1, we infiltrate the lab. 2 Find the head scientist’s computer.” Peter B. Parker started laying down the plan. A surprisingly detailed one considering. . . Well the man’s incompetent to say the least. “Step 4: I download the important stuff. Then 5, I grab a bagel from the cafeteria and run.”

“What are we supposed to do?” You asked, already knowing what he’ll answer with but still clinging unto hope.

“Step 6: Lookout. That’s a very important job. Watch and learn kid I’ll quiz you later!”

“I’m totally the better teacher right?” OG Peter asks you. His puppy eyes on display.

“Anything is better than janky, old, broke hobo spider.”

“Fair enou—“ Peter began his reply but was interrupted by you absolutely decimating a boulder with your fist. “That’s new. And good to know. That’ll come in handy in fights annndddd when I know you’re angry.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Touché. We goin’ in?”

“Oh we’re definitely going in.”

“Whoa!”

“You alright?”

“Not so much with you on top of me!” You whisper shouted. Seriously, even with your new super strength this man was built like a fridge.

“Let’s go. Other Peter!” You whisper shouted again, crawling through the vents with much more noise than needed. Slamming face first unto the Burnout’s ass.“Ah! Other Peter!”

“What are you doing here?!”

“Kingpin’s here. Just move your butt over.” You moved between his legs and then his arms before shimmying yourself beside him.

“Augh, you’re stepping on my foot. Get back outside!”

“No! I - We can’t just sit and let you get caught — or - or die without doing anything about it. I’m not doing that again!” You felt guilty enough with how fucked up Peter OG was after the fight last time, you’re sure as hell ain’t letting that happen again under your watch.

Peter Burnout just stares at you. Silent and unmoving.

“What?”

“Most people I meet in the workplace try to kill me, so . . . you’re a nice change of pace.”

“You have such a low bar. You need to surround yourself with better people. A proper support system is really important for hero mental health.”

“I’m guessing there’s no more room for me there.” Peter pipes up from behind the two of you.

“No.”

“Mr. Fisk. Look at this data. I know you can’t really understand it but these are really good numbers.”

“ . . . Anddd I got the password!”

“Wait wh-“ You looked at him, incredulous. Other Peter can be cool sometimes.

“Um, Mr. Fisk, if we fire again this week, there could be a black hole under Gotham. You see this and this? This is multiple dimensions beginning to crash into each other.”

Peter puppets his hand as she speaks.“This is pretty standard Spider stakes. You get used to it.”

You turned your head to OG Peter for confirmation. That couldn’t be right, right? He was just a kid like you! I mean you never felt any threats to your safety at all during your whole time at Gotham, but then again you lived with a cop dad and an incredibly rich b—

OG Peter nods. He nods! You have a mini anxiety attack inside. You make a mental note to give him more respect in the future. “You get used to hearing threats to your safety and the world? I think you both just need therapy.” Okay but not too much that you don’t get to cash in a quip. What? You were a Spider. It was literally in your blood.

“Watch this.” Peter B. tapped your shoulder several times to get your attention back, “He’s gonna say, “You’ve got 24 hours’”

“You’ve got 24 hours.” He winks at you.

“What this means is that there’s going to be a rupture in the space time continuum!” Dr. Olivia continued.

“Ooh. That’s bad. Actually, everything she said was bad I was lying before.”

“Good to see you admit and communicate your feelings and concerns in a healthy matter, Mr. Other Parker.” You nod in approval. The two of you then move out, one more gracefully than the other.

“Wooh, it was getting a lil tiring just staring at other me’s ass.”

“Just his?” You asked, almost offended that your cake wasn’t mentioned.“Sorry didn’t mean to flirt on the job—“

“No, no, no! Flirting is very much welcomed. I’m single.” OG Peter admitted. His body practically trembling at the awkwardness of his confession.

“Not to be the savior of this awkward atmosphere you kids are creating but a little help here? What are you doing bud?”

“I- I’m stuck! I can’t move!” Not this again.

“Okay, relax your fingers. We don’t have time. Just let go. Be in the moment.”

“I am in the moment! It’s a terrible moment!”

“[Y/N]. Breathe in and out.” OG Peter tried to pull you off but is unable to due to his super strength potentially decimating the octagon shaped lights.

“They’re right there, they’re gonna see you! [Y/N], you gotta unstick. What do you do to relax?”

“You listen to music right? Why don’t you think of a tune that helps you chill out?”

“Relax. Okay, okay, okay.” You close your eyes. Thinking of what you always did when you wanted to relax.

The Robins.

Ah yes, the perfect specimen that is the OG Robin. His musculature that rivaled the Greek sculptures of old. And better yet, his ass? Good lord. You were so glad when he moved on to be Nightwing and shed off that horrid cape. Maybe Spiderman was right, capes were no good.

“Ah . . . Nightwing.” You think back to the pictures you drew of your OC and the vigilante and a finger unsticks. You reminisce of the times you’ve seen them in real life, out at night when your family thought you were asleep and another finger pops off.

You fall once you remember the moment you took a photo with him. “Nightwing. . .”

“Teenagers. Just the worst.” Peter Broken Nose sighed at your hormonal moment.

“Wait, where did [Y/N] go?” Peter Perfect Nose asked, whipping his head around as if you might materialize out of thin air.

“I’m right here.”

“Where? We can’t see you.”

“Pete, I’m literally right in front of you.” You looked down at your hands, stunned to see that you were in fact, invisible, “Can Spider-Man turn invisible in your universe?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Ow!” You groaned as you reeled from Peter B’s slap. “What was that for?”

“This is incredible! Some kind of fight or flight thing.”

“What’s that?”

Pop! And you disappeared. Out of sight. But never out of mind.

"This might pinch a little." She then shoved him unto a chair that automatically strapped him on. You were about to gawk at the kind of furniture she kept around. Thankfully OG Peter had his uses and kept you on track.

"Organize your desktop, lady." You sweated at the amount of icons she had on there. Insane behavior this was.

"This'll take too long. Grab everything before she spots us." And he takes to the ceiling.

"Wow, just complete cellular decay. Never seen anything like this!" Dr. Olivia observed cheek cells she swabbed out of Peter Burnout. You slowed down in concern. Glitching must be completely painful. You had to get him back to his dimension as soon as possible.

And so you followed your tutor’s command.

"What are you two doing?" Peter shook his head as he spots a floating PC and monitor, you, slowly moving to the exit.

"Just taking the whole thing!"

"And obviously you've been glitching."

"Oh god, [Y/N] hurry up!" OG Peter whisper shouts.

"You stay on this dimension for too long your body will start to disintegrate. Do you know how painful that would be, Peter Parker?"

"Oh, I don't know."

"You can't imagine. And I for one, can't wait to watch."

You look to Peter above you, a silent pause as if to say, "This lady is actually insane." Like seriously, how can she teach students like you with a mouth like that?

"What did you say your name was?"

She stood up. A relaxed posture to her form. Her hands reached up to remove her octagonal glasses. "Dr. Olivia Octavius."

Holy shi—

[AUTHOR’S NOTE]:

Character: *breathes*

Author: You’re part of the harem now.

(removed those that couldn’t be tagged) TAGLIST IS FULL!!! SO SORRY FOR THE REST!!! I’LL TAG YOU ON A REBLOG!!!

taglist: @yell0wdreams @humanoid606 @holybatflapexpert @girlcrafter408 @imbiafandbored @miwsolovely @manduse @kiyomisan @vanessa-boo @w31rdg1rl @crystalsbirds @ghestie93 @animelover745-blog @phoenixgurl030 @speckle-meow-meow @mysteriouslyfantasticthief @beta-is-sleeping @day-dreams-posts @paranoiac-666 @ghestie93 @7074lly @yourcutelittlegayfriend @altusha @proffesorbunny @snowwy-night @moonchild-cupcake @the1an0n1y @fuck-the-reaper @siphite @mel-star636 @trickysnack19 @thatone-gayweeb @swagbucksjester @starwritesyanderes @gaozorous-rex-blog @rainnyydaysworld @0-undead-0 @taru-nami @iiiitsfoxie @one-green-frog @victoria1676 @sugarrush-blush @arlynared @ceramic-raven @carnalcrows @victoria1676 @sugarrush-blush @suckitsideways @urminebutidontwantyou @badussyussysstuff

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abizarreyodelingincident · 7 months ago

Text

Shovel Love (Roy)

Roy Harper met the love of his life long past the time he had given up hope for himself. Back when he was only the things he had survived.

Former sidekick, former addict, former father.

He might have been past caring, but that didn’t mean he had the right to stop fighting. To stop trying to make a difference. So what if he took some reckless missions? So what if he worked alone, away from everyone else? (They didn’t want him around anyway.)

It had caught up to him in the end.

He had been betrayed at the height of victory. When he thought maybe, he had done a bit more good in the world and helped an oppressed people topple the regime that crushed them. The revolution had triumphed. And yet, they turned on him all the same.

Roy really should have seen it coming, and some parts of him might have had. Some parts of him might not have minded, not truly.

(He hadn’t hoped that anyone would show up to save him from his screw-ups. He had learned that lesson a while ago. But he was a fool for love, and maybe… )

Yet before the firing squad was assembled, someone broke him out.

Why was Roy Harper spared the sweet release of death that day?

Because Starfire and a former Robin heard about the execution and swooped in to save the day.

Not the former Robin he would have thought though.

(Dick… fuck, Roy and Dick had been matchsticks and gunpowder for a long time now. He wasn’t sure how to just be friends with his best friend anymore. He had not expected Dick of all people, and he had not shown up.)

Admittedly, Roy had had very few thoughts about Jason Todd before the man drove him away from a military base surrounded by tanks and explosions.

“The only reason I’m here is ‘cause if anything happens to you, that would make me the worst former sidekick ever.”

Bit of an off putting second first impression, right?

And yet…

And yet.

Roy had never had someone choose to meet him at the bottom of the barrel. Everyone always expected him to climb out first.

(He stayed. Of course he stayed. Where would Roy even go from there? No one wanted him. He could deal with a little sarcasm.)

It took a long time for Roy to realize…

Black sheep to black sheep, did it really matter if one’s wool was darker than the other’s?

***

Everyone left him. Sooner or later, everyone left Roy Harper. That was the way of the world.

Dad. Brave Bow. Ollie. The Titans. Lian, oh God, Lian.

He knew it was his fault. Always his fault, but he just wished someone would stay.

Even Kori had to leave. For a time. For her people. How could Roy not understand? He did. Of course he did. Gave her his blessings, for all she didn’t need them. But that never made it hurt any less.

Jason…

Roy was waiting for Jason to leave too. To get tired of him.

He’d never been a clinger. He knew. Fuck, he used to know better than to do that. People never wanted all he needed to give and receive. Roy was always too much. Not enough. He had learned a long time ago to be very careful about how much he needed people.

But this time, just this time, Roy couldn’t help himself.

(He’d given up hope before. Someone had met him at the bottom, and he hadn’t told him off for not being able to climb out immediately. Maybe that was why.)

He knew he was screwed when random clients started thinking of Arsenal and Red Hood as a matched pair. In for a penny…

In for a bank account emptying advertising campaign.

Jason’s unimpressed glare at the Red Arse billboard made Roy grin with all his teeth. Jason had theatrics in his soul, a flair for the dramatic, a passion for the loud and the explosive. He was not fooling Roy with that. He was thinking it was funny. And, judging by the slight blush as he repeated their duo’s name, he was also having other thoughts.

However, with the ads, other heroes started reaching out to him.

The first time, Roy might have had an honest to God heart attack.

He hadn’t even been sure people remembered his phone number at this point. It had been so long since anyone had reached out without heroics attached.

‘Are you doing alright, Roy?’ Victor.

‘You breaking into merc work with ads?’ Wally.

‘Red Arse?’ Dick (Dick! The busiest motherfucker this side of the ocean!) had texted. ‘And you make fun of my jokes?’

Roy hadn’t known what the catch could be. Besides the obvious of it being only a temporary thing that would leave him gutted later. He had answered every text, because he could not afford not to talk to the few people that bothered to think of it. He’d given all of his old friends their check-in, and debated with Dick about who’s humor was the best (Roy). It felt a bit like the old days, the Titans days, before it all went to Hell.

“Eyes on the prize, Arse,” Jaybird would snark, pulling Roy away from his coms before another one of their missions.

For a bit, that seemed to be the cycle. Roy would have to be blind not to notice how the messages always seemed to chime in after Red Arse had made a splash in some news. It could only pick up after some dumbasses tried to livestream Arsenal’s death poll.

Roy stared a bit at the smoking corpses on the ground. He was not particularly shocked, maybe displeased that it had been his own invention that had done such a haunting job, but…

Whoever hears the bleating of the black sheep but others of his kind?

“Over three hundred thousand people you don’t know from Adam voted to kill you,” replied the angry ram. “For fun. Because they could.”

Three hundred thousand… Eh. The people that cared about whether Roy lived or died always seemed smaller than what Roy believed. Story of his life.

“You think I give half a damn about what those people think of us? Of me? Show’s over!”

Two quick bangs of gunshots. Shattered glass and sparking ruins of electronics.

The two of them left alone, Roy, beaten, extended no mercy but the anger of a former Robin.

“Jaybird… ”

Jason froze. His whole body stuck in place for a split second, an eternity for a bat, and he muttered something his hood distorted past understanding. Whatever he had been thinking of had slipped out of his mind.

He crossed the distance between them, and leaned in to whisper:

“You got that stupid ass nickname stuck in my head, Harper.”

Roy could not be anything but smug (shaking with disbelief, awed, hopeful).

“I knew you’d come to love it.”

Rough hands helped him away from the restraints. Lifted him up to his feet. “Not what I said.”

“It’s okay,” Roy whispered, softer, his arm wrapped around Jason’s shoulders. “You don’t need to admit it. I already know.”

“... You deserve to hear it anyway. You’re too good a person not to be told.”

***

It started with the Titans.

They always were the one that knew him the best. For all that Jason liked to stay strictly professional in the mask, Roy liked a little spice in their missions. Someway, somehow, it got out. It could have been as simple as the way he looked at his boyfriend obliterating some underworld big shot, or as invasive as a full profile that showed their shared bank account and lease.

A few weeks into honeymoon bliss, Jason and Roy returned from a mission to find Donna, Garth and Wally waiting for them in their living room.

Naively, Roy pulled them all into a group hug. “Guys! What are you doing here?”

“We came to see the neighborhood, obviously,” Wally drawled, but his eyes were laughing too. “So boogie!”

“And only fifty percent of your living space is occupied by knicknacks too,” Garth added.

“Jaybird’s influence,” Roy replied easily.

“Regardless,” Donna said, “it’s been too long, Roy. We’re glad to see you again.”

“It’s good to be so popular. What have you all been up to?”

From there, it devolved into Titans stories, if under a different name. They’d grown up, and the characters had grown up too, but there was a panache that was too typical of their old days to be called anything else. Roy was all too happy to contribute his own, even if he did not receive help when accused of lying.

Jason hovered around the edges of the room, setting things up and putting away Roy’s stuff. He expertly slid away from Roy’s attempts to introduce him, with an infuriating amount of bat-like sixth sense. He knew exactly what he was doing too, the ass, winking everytime Roy failed to get his hands on him.

He played the host instead, supplying snacks that Roy was not even aware had been in their apartment. Damn, now he had even more questions.

Eventually though… Donna caught his attention and asked: “Roy, could we talk? In private?”

Jason chose to ignore the obvious tension with deliberate obnoxiousness. Clapping both Garth and Wally hard, he pulled them out of the living room. “I’ll go make tea. Those two can keep me company or whatever.”

Wally rolled his eyes. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

Roy frowned. That… hadn’t sounded quite right. But okay, Jason was a big boy, he could deal if Wally was being pissy or something. They were all heroes here.

Donna cleared her throat, sitting down and inviting Roy to do the same with a nod.

“So, we came because we heard about-”

Jason popped his head back around the corner, and grinned when Donna repressed a jolt of surprise. “Lemon, no sugar, right?”

“...Yes,” she replied.

Carefully.

Roy’s eyebrows ticked at that.

Donna Troy had rarely needed to be careful around Roy.

“You heard about… what?” he prompted.

“I don’t want to say this is my place, but we were something once… and I thought I should tell you something.”

Roy raised an eyebrow and leaned back into his couch. “Okay?”

“It’s the story of the time I teamed up with Kyle Rayner and Jason Todd, to find Ray Palmer and ostensibly save Reality.”

Every instinct cultivated by his heroic career rang the alarm bells, but he owed it to Donna to listen to what she had to say.

So he listened.

And his heart sank. His fingers grew cold as he heard what she said, what she explained in as many pretty, diplomatic words, and skipped over the part that seemed most important to him.

“I…” Donna finished, still so poised. “I understand this is not a pleasant end to the story. And perhaps things are different now, but I would have been remiss to keep quiet. I do understand the desire to give him a chance. I thought the same too back then. But in the end… ”

“That’s the reason you dropped Jason? Because he shot you in a bid to convince an enemy he had switched sides to try to save Reality?”

Donna’s expression was so sympathetic Roy could have screamed.

He nearly did. Instead, it came out as an incredulous, snide thing. “Because he did exactly what Nightwing would have done in his place?”

Donna’s mouth clamped shut. The realization, obvious on her face, through her widening eyes and her sharp intake of breath. Not that she misspoke or read things wrong. That she lost Roy entirely.

And it hit him, it hit him all ot once, and Roy found his head falling into his hands. A crackling of despair spreading throughout his chest, a cold sort of disbelief. Why? Why was it always the hurt ones that were afforded so little grace?

He looked up, through his fingers, through his sorrow, and he forced himself to look straight at Donna and her own shock.

“He… He always speaks so fondly of you. He’s never had anything bad to say about you. I thought… I really thought, maybe, you were worth his admiration.”

She seemed stricken. Paler. Her hands, neatly folded in her laps, reached forward.

“Roy, I-”

The hurt in his chest bloomed into anger. “Donna, I think you should leave.”

She rose from her seat, a real panic settling in.

He didn’t her speak again. She had said enough. “I don’t want you in our apartment anymore. Right now, I don’t want to look at you. You wanted to talk, so we did. It told me all I needed to know. I’ll thank you to never drop by again uninvited.”

Her expression crumpled. For a second, it even looked like she would muster some kind of apology, but her resolve returned, her eyes steel again, and she offered Roy a quick nod before walking out.

His chest hurt. What… what had that all been about? Donna… Roy had no idea why that had been her line in the sand. She’d dealt with worse. She’d dealt with more annoying. Yet, it had not only been enough to give up on Jason, but to tell Roy to do it as well?

He…

Fuck, Garth and Wally.

Roy hadn’t expected to be able to interrupt whatever would be said. Both Garth and Wally were experienced heroes in their own rights, and the kitchen in their apartment was nowhere near isolated enough to muffle the sounds of the other rooms. All three men stood at reasonable distances from one another, dotted around the kitchen, Garth at the far end seat, Wally by the fridge (obviously) and Jason at the counter, with the kettle whistling steam behind him.

It was a pretty small thing, all things considered. Jason blinked for a second, looked a little confused or maybe off beat. But Jason was a bat.

And Wally was a goddamned speedster.

“Wallace Rudolph West,” Roy hissed, the full force of his fury bearing down on his friend.

Wally obviously winced, eyes darting around to Garth. Who looked uncomfortable, if not guilty.

That was another thing, he realized. Neither of them seemed guilty to be caught or of what they had been doing. Maybe, just maybe, he could have found this whole song and dance embarrassing and a little touching. If he didn’t know that they meant it.

Whatever fucking threats they had made, they were sincere.

They had had the audacity to show up to Roy’s home to try and scare off his partner.

They might not have appeared guilty, but when they saw the look on Roy’s face when he started marching into the kitchen, they did start to back away.

“Roy, don’t get mad on my behalf,” Jason said, lifting the tray with the tea cups and walking past the two shame-faced Titans.

“Why not? Nobody else is clamoring for that role.”

“With good reason,” Wally muttered, because sometimes his mouth really did outspeak his brain.

Roy whirled on him, scowl morphing into an outright snarl. “Fuck off! Both of you!”

Wally jumped a good two feet in the air. But, damningly, stayed rooted inside Roy’s kitchen.

“Are you deaf?! Wallace. Fucking. West. GET THE FUCK OUT, ASSHOLE!”

Garth put up his hands, offering a gentle smile. “Roy, how about we-?”

“OUT!” he shouted as he grabbed hold of the salt shaker and flung it exactly where Wally’s nose had been a fraction of a second ago.

Colors blurred around him, a split second, the afterimage still burned in his eyes. And then they were gone, and the door to his apartment slammed shut.

Roy marched right up to it and loudly turned on the locks.

He waited, listened to the shuffling of feet, to the faint whispering, and finally footsteps fading. Only when he was certain they were gone did he let himself fully digest what had happened.

Damnit.

“What did they say?” he said, talking to the door, to the fucking plank of wood that was now separating him from people he used to love so much.

He couldn’t bring himself to turn, to see anything like fear or doubt or annoyance on his Jaybird’s face. He couldn’t bring himself to face the reality yet, that people he would have eagerly welcomed into their home might just break his newest one.

“Nothing much,” Jason’s voice tickled the back of his neck,

He groaned, trying to push down the guilt and fear. “Jaybird…”

There was a brief silence.

“Wally promised to freeze me in the speedforce for eternity and Garth said something about drowning me. Bit harder to hear him while Wally was demonstrating his ability to make good on that threat.”

I will shoot their kneecaps with bomb arrows.

“I’m sorry. They should not have said that.”

Jason shrugged, his voice even, unaffected. “Eh, I’m used to it.”

Roy finally turned around, and dared look at his boyfriend’s face. Jason was… well, the same was ever. He had that slanted half-smile tugging at his lips, that hollow swagger. This hadn’t changed anything for him. Roy could cry in relief. It hadn’t changed anything.

“They… Jaybird, I did not want them to do that.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, and tilted his head to the side, to the slant of his lopsided smirk. “Yeah? I know that, Roytoy. I don’t blame you or whatever. If anything, it’s almost sweet. It’s good to know that people do care about your heart. It’s too good to be disregarded so easily.”

Roy gently pressed a hand against Jason’s chest. “What about your heart? Doesn’t it matter?”

“I’ve always been an exception.”

Roy narrowed his eyes, but Jason did not relent. Did not falter. He had always been an exception. And Roy knew enough of his boyfriend’s history to know how that was the worst part of it all.

“Hey, who knows?” he injected some false cheer in his voice. “Maybe in a bit, I’ll be the one hiding from some bats?”

Jason immediately chuckled.

“You’re lucky you’re handsome, and smart, and loyal, and so fucking talented, and-”

Roy snorted. “Oh my, all those things?”

“And more. So much more,” Jason replied with a smirk, before dipping Roy over to land a sinful kiss on him.

***

Roy was indeed lucky to be all those things Jason had listed, because no one, be they civilians, heroes or villains, came out and threatened Roy to treat Jason right.

The Red Hood hadn’t made a lot of friends amongst those. And so few that knew Jason Todd was alive cared about that fact.

Whilst more of Roy’s family and friends came, they all seemed to close around Roy protectively. They might have heard what he had told the original Titans, because they always seemed to find Jason when he was alone, where Roy couldn’t see. Couldn’t hear. Couldn’t react.

It drove him nuts!

He could even tell when someone had given Jason the shovel drivel, because he always seemed a little more bemused than not those days.

(One day, Roy feared, he would come back to an empty apartment, and congratulations from the rest of the hero community that he’d finally escaped the Red Hood’s evil claws.)

The closest might have been Rose, but her primary goal had still been to check on Roy himself.

To talk a bit. About Lian.

She hadn’t expected to get attached, when she’d taken the babysitting job. A silly notion. No one could ever resist his Pumpkin’s charm.

(she was perfect she was gone oh god she was gone)

It was almost nice.

“If you do break up with the hunk, send him my way,” Rose had told Roy, winking and laughing at her own not-quite-a-joke.

She had not offered any comment for the opposite scenario, and from her, that said it all. There wouldn’t be a hunk to rebound with if Roy was the one broken up with. Ravager had all the tools needed to make it happen.

“In your fucking dreams, Rose!” Jason had laughed, tossing the TV remote at her head.

(She refused to apologize or pay them back for slicing it in pieces. Self-defense, she claimed.)

(Jason reluctantly let Roy tinker something up, and their seven-in-one remote with control over radio signals across half the city was a thing of beauty. Of beauty!)

Still no bats leaving him boobytrapped mail or leaving him with overview pictures of himself at some random store.

(Until Dick-)

***

Roy showed up alone for Christmas dinner. He was the last to arrive.

The cold seeped through his coat as he hesitated before ringing the doorbell. He could go back. He had time to rush back home and put on his costume and dismantle the ring with the Red Hood. His family would understand. The hero life sometimes called at inconvenient times.

Except…

He thought back to the arrow Jason had slapped down on their kitchen counter once, and the encounter that had ended with Ollie and Roy screaming, and the one time Dinah had laid a hand on Jason’s wrist to speak to him softly, dangerously.

Roy knocked and waited for the door to open.

His latest set of adoptive parents greeted him with warm smiles and hugs. Inviting him inside. Asking about the journey. Roy had missed the feeling of his family embracing him.

Soon though, Ollie’s eyes narrowed, obviously darting around for a sign of Jason. They darkened even further once he realized Jason was nowhere in sight.

“No sign of the Hood, huh? Did he finally stop playing his game or is he just scared to show his face tonight?”

He should leave. This was exactly why Jason had ‘found’ a lead on a massive case just in time to miss the family function. He should explain.

Roy stayed rooted on the spot. Silent.

Dinah slapped Oliver’s shoulder and shot him a look.

“Oliver, can it.”

“What? You also-”

The second hit, more forceful, managed to shut Ollie up. A miracle.

The good feelings of their earlier greetings felt like a distant memory. Why? Goddamnit, why were they all like this now? Nobody seemed to be talking to him about this. Shouldn’t his opinion be the most important part to them?

Not the first black-haired assassin you’ve dated, Harper, a sardonic voice that sounded like Jason drawled from the corners of his mind.

“Come in, Roy,” Dinah said, helping him with his coat. “Please. Everyone was waiting for you.”

***

(They put a plate for Lian. Dinah said a speech. Roy cried in his brother’s and sister’s arms the entire time.)

(He didn’t think he’d ever run out of tears for his little girl.)

***

The evening was already ending when Roy’s dream of a pleasant time with his family crashed.

The wine had started to flow. A couple of cups here and there. One for each of Roy’s siblings that were still underage. None for himself.

A few for Ollie.

“You didn’t answer me earlier,” he drawled, sitting on the couch, glaring at the Christmas movie playing on the big screen.

“About what movie to watch?” Roy replied, bemused, gesturing at the TV. “Sorry, but I say Connor picked a good one.”

“About your mob boss boyfriend.”

It was as if all heat had been sucked out of the room. The lights burned, the scented candles wafted their cinnamon scent, the big wool blanket over his shoulder was only stone. His siblings on either side of him, walls.

“He didn’t show up. Why? Scared of meeting the family? Too big of a commitment?”

“Ollie,” Dinah hissed.

Roy blinked. “You are not doing this to me right now.”

“Damnit, Roy! How many people have to tell you the Red Hood is bad news? He’s on multiple ‘most wanted’ list! Have you even read the files the Bat wrote on him?”

“Yes! And unlike most of you, I actually know Jason!”

Emiko rolled her eyes. “It’s Jade all over again.”

Roy glared at her, stung.

“He hired goons to kidnap your sister! He dueled her with a blade.”

“Hey!” Mia protested. “Don’t make it sound like it was some traumatizing experience. I fought that jerk just fine. But it was a dick move to blow up my school.”

“He saved my life multiple times. I’d have died a dog’s death if not for him. Does that not matter either?”

A stunned silence cut right through the brewing arguments.

“Roy,” Connor said softly, “of course we care about that.”

“I don’t know. Sounds like Ollie would have preferred I stayed away from Jason. And dead.”

Ollie went pale. “N- no, Roy, son, never. I - I just. We keep hearing-”

Dinah let out a resounding sigh and took pity on him. Well, on Ollie, not on Roy. Because she turned to him and with her best ‘therapist voice’ said: “Your friends said you stopped talking to them.”

His grip tightened over his blanket. “Did they mention ‘why’?”

Again. Another series of exchanged looks charged with meaning.

They had. Of course they had. His friends did not think they had done anything wrong. They were simply looking out for Roy, who was overreacting.

“Ha!” Roy scoffed, rising to his feet and shrugging off the hands that attempted to pull him back. “Yeah, I’m not talking about that tonight. No fucking way.”

“Why is he not here then?” Ollie called back after him. “Why won’t he come with you?”

Roy almost punched right through the hallway’s walls.

“Why do you think?” he yelled at the top of his lungs. “Why would anyone want to spend time around you?!”

Roy’s words seemed to have actually hit, as Ollie staggered backward. His eyes went wide, more alert, less clouded by the few glasses of wine he had had. He cringed, alternating glances between Roy, Emiko, Mia and Connor. They shifted awkwardly, trying to find proper words for this.

Whatever. Roy was not staying to listen. Jason had had the right of it. He should not have come.

“Wait.”

Dinah caught his hand. He freed himself, but slowed down around the corner of the living room. The closet with his coat was tantalizing close.

Dinah glanced at it, then took a deep breath.

“We’re worried that you’re isolating yourself from your support system, Roy. That’s not healthy behavior in a new relationship. Please, don’t blame Oliver for being worried. He… he is well aware that he screwed up with you before. Can we please talk about it?”

Anger was gripping at his throat. Choking him. This boiling flame was spilling from his chest into his limbs. He didn’t want to talk about it again. He didn’t want to have to keep defending his choice in partner with more heroes. He wanted to lean against his Jaybird on the family couch and hold hands under the blankets and laugh at something his siblings had said. He wanted to be trusted and loved and cared for.

He wanted to leave.

But leaving would just make them more determined to get involved, wouldn’t it? Was there anything Roy could say or do to make people stop judging his lover?

“Cutting off toxic, two-faced people who have failed to be there for me for years certainly is healthy,” Roy said, acidic. “I’d have thought you would agree.”

Dinah grimaced, avoiding his harsh glare. “Yes, if you really think that’s what they are, then you are right. But-”

“But what? Jason’s not making me do anything. Hell, half the time, he keeps telling me not to get mad when people threaten to gut him. Do you think it feels good to hear that, Dinah? Do you? Somehow, you have all gotten into your heads that I appreciate this behavior. I don’t. They know it. And if they’re not going to apologize, I don’t see why I should let them back in my life. Not that it would make a difference, when people only show up when they think I’m falling off again.”

“Roy, we all care about you.”

“Maybe you do,” Roy conceded. She had been one of the few still there to help him back then. He had not forgotten that. She was half the reason he had given Ollie a chance too. “But this is not how you show it. This is not what I need.”

Dinah held out a hand, almost reaching for Roy, but thinking better at the last second.

He would have shrugged it off. He would have burned from any attempt to comfort him now.

Roy gestured vaguely to the living room where Ollie’s voice could still be heard. “This? This is hurting me. You are all trying to break one of the few good things I have left. I can’t deal with that. And if it comes true because of you-”

Roy clamped his mouth shut. He pulled back. Stepped back.

“Roy… ”

“I need fresh air. I… I have to go, Dinah. Thank you for the meal. Give everyone my best wishes.”

***

Snow blanketed the cemetery with a pure, untouched coat of glimmering white. The sounds of the city felt far away, dampened by the winter. They were alone, this early on such a cold day. Just Roy and his Jaybird, walking up the little hill in silence, a bouquet between them.

Lian would have been rolling down that hill with gleeful shrieks.

Every day, he saw the world how she would have seen it, and it stabbed him every damn time. It had been years now, and Roy had long since learned that nothing would ever patch up the giant gaping hole in his heart. Nothing would ever truly let Roy heal from losing the light of his life.

He was a fool, blindly reaching out in darkness.

He didn’t have a full heart to give anymore. Most of it was in the ground with his little girl. Who would accept such ragged, hollowed feelings? Who’d still think he was worthy of loving with so little to offer in return?

Who, but a man scorned by everyone that should have loved him?

People that should be on their knees thanking the heavens for a son returned to them. People that, in truth, cursed whatever forces had brought Jason Todd back from the dead.

Roy felt like scum, like he was taking advantage of the horrors inflicted on his partner, like he used him because no one else would have someone as broken as Roy fucking Harper.

He felt like scum, because even then, he was too selfish not to cling to the one man that still thought he deserved to be loved.

Jason helped him kneel down by the tombstone and placed the flowers down.

Roy traced the name half hidden by the snow.

“What is it like?” he heard himself ask, a soft lament in the wind. “Being dead?”

The strong body that was pressed against his side tensed.

Roy’s stomach twisted. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. That was cruel.”

A gloved hand closed over his, warm, strong. The slight squeeze pulled him back into his body, away from the clouds of grief that hung overhead. He raised his head, and was met with a saddened smile. Jason’s eyes were a glazed mirror, a pool of a love so tender it struck Roy straight at the heart.

“It is peace.”

Roy felt the remnants of his ragged heart splinter further. Oh Jason.

“Eternal peace.” He held Roy’s hands between them, at chest level, at heart level. “Death was a kindness to me, Roy. There was no fear, no pain. No time at all to miss anyone, true bliss.”

He watched their breaths mingle, the wisps of white that tangled and dissipated. He watched, with a longing, with a homesickness.

“Death is something that was denied to me. It is Life I was cursed with, Roy. And no matter how often I glimpse the other side, the world refuses to let me go back.”

Even if the world changed its mind, Arsenal would have something to say about that.

“Jaybird, promise me.” Roy retrieved his hands and pushed them against Jason’s chest, trying to make him feel the strength of that wonderful heartbeat. Cupped his chin, like he was holding the world. “Promise me you will live. Promise me you can find value even in something as worthless as my love.”

Their foreheads met, Jason’s eyes still so bright. “I wouldn’t hurt you like that Roy. Heroes have never managed to understand me. They don’t scare me. Death doesn’t scare me. Nor does pain. I won’t leave you for anything. Because… your love isn’t worthless, Roy. Your love is everything.”

It was so little, in the face of that violence. Roy couldn’t be worth the wrath of every paragon of heroics on this side of the ocean. He knew he had never been before.

Despite all this, he still leaned forward, still caught his Jaybird’s lips. He kissed him with the hope that there was a way out of the barrel, that maybe, two sets of hands would be enough to climb, and if not, to stay warm while winter passed.

Roy kissed his Jaybird with the promise to love him as no one else dared.

“You deserve everything. I’m sorry I’m the only one willing to give it to you.”

Jason’s eyes were shining, his lips wobbling and his face a splotchy red. But his voice was steady, as commanding and strong as the Red Hood on the battlefield.

“She is at peace, I promise you.”

Roy’s breath hitched. Please, he thought, please be true.

A thumb gently wiped a tear he hadn’t felt fall. “And you will see her again. Give or take a couple decades, I hope.”

Roy leaned in, and kissed his man again. He let himself get lost in the tenderness of that touch, of their embrace. Let this warmth try to compensate for the ever cold in his chest. At times, it almost seemed like it would. At times, he wished that it would.

Roy was lucky he was handsome and smart and loyal and so fucking talented, because it had landed him this wonderful partner. This man who offered him the sweetest horror, the scariest reassurance, without ever losing that awed look in his eyes, and that softness in those blood-soaked hands. It was blunt. It was harsh.

And by all that was good, it was real.

You will see her again. She is at peace.

A sense of content settled over him, and he couldn’t bring himself to be ashamed. Couldn’t fight this one moment of joy. Even if he didn’t deserve it, he let himself feel it.

“And when that time comes,” Roy whispered against his Jaybird’s lips, “I’ll introduce you.”

“That sounds nice.”

Roy did not comment how ‘nice’ sounded like an impossibility in Jason’s voice. He squeezed his boyfriend’s hand, and smiled at the tombstone. Let’s get a headstart.

“Sorry, Pumpkin. I bet you thought it was gross that Daddy was kissing someone, didn’t you? It’s okay now, Daddy got it out of his system. No more kisses, only stories. And he has lots of stories to tell you.”

“Funny stories,” Jason added with a daredevil smirk.

“Hilarious stories,” Roy nodded. “Daddy even got to fight an army of mimes! You were right, Pumpkin, the white make-up did hide their nefariousness!”

“They’re too clown-adjacent to be anything else,” Jason snarked.

“But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s get back to the start. Our romantic getaway to Paris!”

And Roy let the words flow out of him. Description of the city came to him with a poetry he never had, cut by as many intermissions to reply to the thoughts he knew his smart little girl would have had. Brave tales of the valiant Arsenal and his grumpy, snarky partner Red Hood spun around a web of hushed, excited words around a quiet snow-covered landscape. And Roy kept on speaking, kept catching up Lian on the life Roy was forced to have without her until he could join her. And Roy spoke, until morning passed and the sun reached its apex. And still he had more to say. More to explain. More to say (I love you, Pumpkin. I love you more than the world.).

His favorite parts though might be the moments when Jason took hold of the story, when he snapped a quip that derailed Roy’s embellishments and pushed the story back to Earth. When he stepped up and started recounting the mission gone sideways in much more cynical terms, yet with twice the enthusiasm.

Roy could almost see his little girl instead of that tombstone. He could see her sitting top of it, bundled up with six layers because Roy got sick easily as a kid and she was like him. He could almost see how she would kick her legs and lose a boot in the snow and then refuse to let Roy help her put it back on.

Jason would deadpanned something then : “Yeah, Roy, don’t interfere. She’s got it.”

Something like that. Because he’d side with her. Of course he’d side with her.

If only you two had the chance to meet.

It was a pretty dream. Roy could picture it without trouble. Roy would be sitting on their couch, Lian on his knees with one of her books, and Jason, coming from the kitchen with some hot chocolates and a quip. It would be perfect, the three of them.

But they were only two.

What a pair they make. A father who lost his child and himself, an undead son who came back unloved.

“I love you, Lian. We’ll come by again soon.”

“Can’t wait to meet you, kiddo,” Jason quipped, and who could tell if he was serious?

Roy elbowed him anyway. Jason huffed a laugh, slipping an arm around Roy’s waist. Then, he froze, looking ahead.

His family. All of them carrying their own bouquets. They were a collection of Lian’s favourites, looking like they’d been personally arranged by Dinah this morning.

Roy felt a rush of affection for them.

Then, he saw the way eyes darted toward Jason.

No.

Roy could not do this. He could not do this here, in front of his daughter’s grave.

“Ollie, if you dare say even one wrong word right now, it will be the last you ever speak to me.”

“Son, I-”

He noticed Roy’s glare.

Ollie’s mouth clicked shut. His expression shifted as if he was trying to figure out how to phrase his thoughts. But he did not speak. He deflated suddenly, shooting Roy an apologetic look.

The Arrows moved off the path.

Jason actually seemed impressed. He would be. How often did people hold their tongues around him?

“Let’s go home, Jaybird.”

#jayroy #roy harper #jason todd #fic #angst #dealing with grief #how it looks like when your emotional support codependancy is threatened by people that love you

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five-rivers · 1 year ago

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Last pollfic chapter! The previous one is here. There is a poll at the end to choose the next one. :3

“Fine,” said Danny, “whatever. But can we get on with this? The sooner I’m a teenager again, the better.”

“Yes, yes,” said the librarian. She slid the card into a slot on the desk. How many of those did she have? “One moment.”

Danny waited. He waited some more. Then he cringed as his body started shifting. Slowly. Very slowly. His aura flared out, then stabilized at a more comfortable level. His spine and legs stretched. His wings pulled in, just a little.

Then it stopped.

Danny checked his ears - closer to catlike than batlike, but still overly long and pointed. His tail - again shorter, but still there. Wings - the same. As for his overall height… Well, he could see all the way over the counter, now. But he was pretty sure he was closer to ten than fourteen.

“Is that it?” he asked, disappointed.

“It would appear as if whatever was done to you, without the means with which it was applied, will have to fade on its own. Which is how it is with our badges. Can I assume that you will also want to take possession of your belongings at this time?”

“Yep,” said Danny. “I would like that.”

The librarian opened the door to the coatroom and unloaded the equipment bit by bit. As she did, Danny put it back on, piece by piece, until he reached the backup microphone. Yeah. Yeah, if his parents were watching, this was going to suck. If they weren’t watching, well. It would also suck. But in a different way, and later. When they wrecked whatever building he was in trying to get to him.

Yeah. They’d do that in the Ghost Zone, too, he was sure.

He plugged the earpiece into his ear. “Hi,” he said.

“DANNY!”

He took the earpiece out of his ear. He counted to ten, then put it back in. His parents were still being loud and incomprehensible.

“Sorry about leaving the video stuff at the bottom of a hole.”

“You lost something in the library?” asked the librarian.

“Yeah,” said Danny. “Like I said, Mom, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get kidnapped.”

The librarian sighed. “I will make a note to send it on to the Library of Tongues if any of our members find it. A hole, you said?”

“Near where the quiet ones hang out. They call it the Well of Voices. There’s like a lake down there.”

“Danny, are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” said Danny, putting a hand on his ear. “I’m going to spend a few days–”

“A week, at least,” interjected the librarian at the desk.

“--maybe a week,” corrected Danny, “at the Library of Tongues. I’m kind of a bit– Since they messed with the transformation, it won’t come off right.”

“Why can’t you just come home, instead of going there?”

“Because I can get someone from the library to pick me up.”

“We can pick you up!”

“No, Dad, no, don’t come here. You can’t come here.”

“We’ve got the Speeder! We can get there in no time!”

That was not an accurate assessment of how long it would take. Danny was much faster than the Speeder. But that wasn’t really the point, either. “There’s a reason you send me to investigate, rather than coming out here yourselves.” There were, in fact, many reasons, ranging from the safety of Mom and Dad to the safety and sanity of everyone else in the Ghost Zone.

“But you’re in trouble now,” said Maddie. “And we have been prepping for launch, so it really will be short. Just a jump.”

“You’ll get lost and then I’ll have to find you. I’m not in trouble. I’m out of trouble. I am no longer in trouble. Someone from the Library of Tongues will come pick me up. I go to the Library of Tongues all the time. I know how to be safe there.”

“Like you know how to be safe here.”

“I’m not sure how I could have predicted the secret people living in the basement that no one knew about,” said Danny, trying to keep the way that shot had landed out of his voice. “The Library of Tongues isn’t a new place. It’s a place I know. I’ve never had trouble there.” Unless he counted Ghost Writer glaring at him across the room.

“No way no how, not after this library tried to eat you, Danno!”

“That’s– That’s not what happened. I wasn’t eaten. No one tried to eat me, here.” Danny knew what that was like, and it wasn’t what had happened. “And no one has ever tried to eat me at the Library of Tongues. Having ‘tongues’ in the name does not mean that that’s what’s there. You know that.”

“This library has ‘lost’ in its name, and you got lost in it.”

“It’s ‘tongues’ as in ‘languages.’”

“We’re coming to get you.”

“By the time you get here, I’ll be gone.”

There was a brief not-quiet-silence, as if one of his parents had put their hand down over their microphone. Then, “We’ll pick you up from the Library of Tongues. That’s closer, anyway, isn’t it?” asked Mom.

This was the best deal Danny was likely to get. He sighed. “Fine.”

The attendant came back. “They say they will send someone,” they said, bowing slightly. “They’re taking the methodical route, so they will be here soon.”

“How long is soon?” asked Danny. “An hour, half an hour?”

The attendant shrugged.

“About an hour,” said the librarian at the desk. “You can sit anywhere here in the lobby.”

“Thank you,” said Danny. He looked around at the collection of what would normally be very comfortable chairs, and considered his wings. “Hm.”

“The ones that are better for people with wings are over there,” said the librarian, pointing. She directed her attention to the attendant. “And you should return to your duties.”

Danny grimaced at the chairs with the narrow, hard looking backs, but it wasn’t as if he had a lot of choices. He sat down and squirmed to get comfortable. It didn’t help much.

At least he was unlikely to fall asleep like this.

He spent his wait fiddling with one of the less reliable gadgets (it had broken while sitting in the coat room) and filling his parents in on what, exactly, had happened. There was a lot of backtracking and scientific speculation, most of which was probably wrong, but which was, at least, enthusiastic.

The front doors of the library opened, and Danny perked up, eager to see if it was someone he recognized.

Sadly, it was.

“I have been told,” announced Ghost Writer, “that a certain boy has been too bold.”

“Right, because it’s my fault if someone decided to indulge in a bit of kidnapping,” said Danny, already annoyed.

Ghost Writer sniffed, sticking his nose in the air. “Sorry, do you hear something small yapping?”

“Did they really send you to get me?”

“Evidently, I was the only one free.”

Great.

“Danny? Is he one of your enemies? Should we come get you now?”

“No, we’ve just got history.”

“If you say it like that, people will think it’s a mystery. Are you ready to leave?”

“As I live and breathe.” Danny scowled. “Stop that.”

“You’re lucky I’m accepting half rhymes, not just rhymes that are pat.”

“That’s atrocious.”

“What a long word, so precocious.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Let’s just go, before you attract some kind of foe.” He pushed past Ghost Writer, and opened the doors.

As eager as he’d been to come at the beginning, he was glad to put this particular destination behind him. He was definitely crossing it off his list of places to visit in the future.

The End

(For Now)

Thank you for reading this far! I will be adding the whole thing to AO3 shortly.

#danny phantom #pollfic #poll fic #kingdom of fish #choose your own adventure

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hptrash-lookaway · 11 months ago

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Actually on the topic of Harry giving interviews, my biggest pet peeve is when one of Harry’s classmates essentially blames Harry for all that crazy stuff happening and then doesn’t get eviscerated

Year 1: Voldemort was going to be a wraith on Quirrel’s head either way, Harry wasn’t even really his focus (yeah he kinda tried to kill him, but not really too much, and not in a way that affected others, except how that would’ve traumatized them to see a kid die in a quidditch game), his focus was the stone, and maybe he never was going to get it from the mirror, but either way, they can only say that Harry’s presence didn’t cause Voldemort to be there, but it did stop him from having a body for a bit

Year 2: That diary existed way before Harry’s existence, and he wasn’t even the target for it, so either way, it would’ve made its way into the school, again, Harry’s presence didn’t cause things to happen, but since he was the only other parselmouth in existence, him being there stopped Voldemort from having a body again, and from having a basilisk terrorizing the school

Year 3: Can maybe make the argument that Harry’s presence caused some drama, except Sirius was mostly there because he saw Pettigrew in the paper, so if the lottery trip with the Weasley’s still happened (which Harry’s presence would’ve had no effect on), then Sirius was still going to breakout and head to Hogwarts, and there were still going to be dementors, what did Harry’s presence cause? Oh yeah, stopping like a hundred fucking dementors.

Year 4: Tri-Wizard stuff was still going to happen, Harry being a champion didn’t really affect anyone else in the school besides him and his friend group, if Voldemort hadn’t already gotten a body at this point, then he’d still need to try, and chances are he could still use the same ritual, and there’s a lot of people that could count as his enemy for the ritual, so Voldemort would’ve been coming back either way, what did Harry’s presence cause? He was able to get away and warn people

Year 5: Voldemort definitely would’ve come back by now, if Harry wasn’t there, he just would’ve come back sooner, so you can make the argument that Harry’s presence caused them to have Umbridge as a defense teacher, but Harry also made sure they were all still being trained properly to defend themselves in an upcoming war that people didn’t want to believe him was coming (also I’m pretty sure Umbridge targeted Harry the most with the blood quills, so still, what tf is everyone else complaining about, when Harry’s the one most affected by things??)

Year 6: Again, Voldemort would still be back, Harry’s still just trying to keep things under control

Year 7: Was it absolute hell for the students still at Hogwarts? Yes. But guess what? Harry’s presence never caused any of that, and in fact, that’s probably what the school would’ve been like years earlier without him there stopping Voldemort, and then it was Harry who put an end to the war so those students only had to suffer with death eaters controlling the school for a year

(I’m not saying other people can’t be credited with stopping and taking down Voldemort, this whole rant is just about characters (and I feel like some fans) not understanding how ridiculous it is to blame Harry for any of Voldemort’s doings)

(And if Harry hadn’t been born? Either Voldemort never got killed at the height of his power, or there just would’ve been a different chosen one)

#hp #harry potter #voldemort #professor quirrell #rant #lord voldemort #it’s such a pet peeve of mine #I feel like it comes from a place of privilege in canon #that you’re so unconnected to what’s happening that you don’t truly understand how much worse things could be #’how dare you make it so we can’t stick our heads in the sand and pretend nothing is wrong >:(‘#the goddamn victim blaming I HATE it

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gtbutterfly · 11 months ago

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Quincy and the forest giant part 11

Sorry this part took so long. This one has some pretty big lore reveals and stuff, so, yeah! Hope you enjoy it! Criticism is appreciated!

Previous part:

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It turns out that venison just tastes like beef. It was a bit more metallic and dry, but overall, it just seemed like normal dark meat. I wasn’t too into it, but it was fine for what it was. I couldn’t tell which actual part of the deer I was eating, the meat was smashed and mangled slightly due to how Ella caught, killed, and prepared it, crushing the deer with her hand and picking the meat off its bones while I looked away, and then just putting the meat over a fire on the counter and ripping it into eatable pieces for me with her fingers. I ate my part paired with the bread, while Ella just put her entire half of the deer meat in her mouth, chewing a shallowing. She was done eating pretty fast. Since she was done, she didn’t have anything to do other than just watch me finish. It felt a little weird, having her just silently loom over me as I ate. Eventually, she said something.

“What do you think?” The giant asked,

“Uh…of the food?” I said, “It's fine, I guess. The meat makes the bread taste better,”

“Yeah, sorry if it's not prepared well, it's only so easy to make meals your size with hands twice your height,” Ella said, looking at her hand compared to me. She leaned on the table with her elbow. “Usually venisons meant to be like, a luxury meal in restaurants and whatnot, so if you ever have it again, it’ll probably taste different than what I made,”

“Hm…have you ever had it like that before?” I asked.

“Huh?” Ella said,

“Um, venison made fancy from a restaurant,” I elaborated, “have you ever tried it?”

“Eh, once,” Ella said, looking up in remembrance, “it was before….y’know,” she looked down.

“Uh, I think I’m full,” I said, “um, you can have the rest of my food if you want,”

“Hmm, I’ll save it for later,” Ella said. “You’ll probably have it either tonight or tomorrow if it's still good by then,” she picked up the rest of the meat and stood up with it, walking over to a cabinet and putting it inside. The door seemed to seal all the air out when she closed it.

“Um, are you sure you’ve had enough?” I asked,

“I’m fine, kid.” Ella said, walking back towards the table I was on.

“But, it seemed like you just took like, a bite,” I said,

“That's just what most of the animals I catch for food are like,” Ella said, “I never have big portions. Usually the most I eat is from the bread they send me,”

“Oh…” I said, "thing for a second, “where does that bread come from, anyways? Uh, why is it so big?”

“They grow wheat, and they make it.” Ella answered, looking to her side. “They use the same growth hormones they use on the trees here. I’m pretty sure it's still experimental though, so all they do with the crop is make bread to feed me with, since growth hormones wouldn’t affect me much, and burn the rest.”

“Oh…does the wheat field have a giant guarding it too?” I asked,

“No, just normal sized people with guns.” Ella sighed, sitting down again. “You saw them when Amber showed up to make you stay here, right? Because of me, they have a lot less of them here.”

“Really? huh….I would've thought they’d have more…” I thought out loud,

“It's not because they trust me, they just know I can’t afford to go against them,” Ella said nonchalantly.

“Can’t afford it?” I wondered,

“A couple of normal sized humans with guns aren’t going to control me, Quincy,” she said, looking down at me. “If anything, having more guards here for me would be a waste. They have other ways to do that.”

“Like…like what?” I asked,

“Don’t worry about it,” Ella said. “It wouldn’t affect you or your town if they did it. Probably.”

“...ok,” I said, looking down. “Um, so…wait, um…so…they have something to…uh, threaten you…into listening to them,” I asked,

“It's not the main reason I listen to them, but yes, it's something they have.” Ella said. “Why do you ask?”

“You…you said you..work for them, right? Um…aren’t you like an employee, or something…?”

Ella almost laughed at my question. She gave a small smirk and looked down to hide it, before looking at me with the same neutral expression she had before.

“Quincy, look at me,” she said, leaning towards me, her massive eyes just above my face. “Do you think I get paid?”

“....well….um,” I rubbed the back of my neck,

“Do you think I go on breaks on the weekend, and go out to the mall, or whatever, and buy new clothes, or go out to eat, or pay taxes?” she asked, her sarcastic smile showing a bit more.

“Um….well, no…” I said, embarrassed, “but, then..what are you to them? Are you like…a slave…? Did they make you?”

“In a way,” Ella said, looking down, leaning back in her chair, “...technically, legally, I’m a ‘volunteer,’” she said in air quotes,

“A volunteer?” I looked up at her confused,

“I technically agreed to all this years ago, it's on a contract and everything,” Ella said.

“But…if you're a volunteer, can’t you just ... .quit?” I asked, “I mean, you don’t seem to…like the company too much…”

“Quit, and do what exactly?” The giant asked, sitting up straight. “I couldn’t just go on with my life being sixty feet tall. I can’t be around people,” she sighed and looked down, leaning back on the table. “They wouldn’t just let me leave, and you already know why I can’t just run away.” she paused for a moment, her eyes facing down, “I shouldn’t be free and around people, anyways,” she murmured to herself,

“Wh-why?” I asked. She looked at me blankly. “Wh-why shouldn’t you be around people?” she kept staring at me emotionless, not stern, not angry or confused or sad, just blankly. She sat up straight again, having her arms on top of each other on the table and looking down, away from me.

“It wouldn’t be safe for them,” Ella said, almost nonchalantly. She blinked twice, her body twitched slightly, seeming uncomfortable. Her eyes contracted, before returning to their normal size when she looked back at me. “I mean, there are a lot of reasons I couldn’t be around people, but it's mainly just that…safety…”

“Well…you wouldn’t hurt anyone purposely, right?” I asked. Ella kept silent, looking away from me, like she was thinking. “...you don’t seem too clumsy…I don’t think you’d crush anything on accident,”

“I’ve never been in a town before,” Ella said, “its alot easier to be careful when it's just grass and trees everywhere, and not buildings and people,”

“Well….you wouldn’t need to be there all the time…” I suggested, before Ella stopped me.

“Quincy, what are you trying to say?” the giant asked, slightly frustrated.

“S-sorry, you just,” I tried to find the right words, “...how often do you get to talk to someone?”

“Like, a couple times a month, I’d say,” Ella said, “mainly calls and reports to Amber. No one else from the company ever says anything. Then there's the occasional stay human from the town, like you. That only happens once a year, and they usually aren’t too interested in making conversation.”

“...um…” I looked down and rubbed my neck, “thats….I don’t think its…good….to only talk to someone twice a month,” I said, “....especially someone you…don’t seem to like at all,” Ella sighed,

“...it's not, is it?” she asked rhetorically, standing up straight again, still looking down. “Maybe that's why they’re so eager to keep you here,” she blinked, muttering something to herself, “idiots,”

I looked up at her as she looked back at me. I bit my lip and spoke up.

“...Ella, do you…” I swallowed my spit, “don’t you think you deserve to…not be alone here?” I asked.

“...what are you talking about?” she asked.

“Like…don’t you deserve to...y’know,” I looked down, “know people? Be able to leave here? Be…happy? Um…..are you happy?” I asked. Ella’s eyes widened. Not in anger, I wasn’t sure what it was out of. I almost thought for a moment she was offended. She let out an exhale, her eyes still open. She looked at herself.

“I don’t.” she said blankly.

“H-huh?” I asked. She was silent for a moment, before she sighed, and started to stand up from her seat at the table, towering tens of feet over me. Before I could react, she lifted me up from under my arms. My heart dropped upon suddenly being lifted, before she dropped me into the palm of her other hand, holding me gently in it. She looked straight forward as she walked up out of the kitchen and into the living room. “What…what are you doing?” I asked, looking up at her. The giant sighed again, still not looking at me. Eventually, she placed me down on the coffee table in front of her couch, before sitting down on the couch herself, sinking into it with her weight, intentionally slouching and holding her head up with her hands. She looked at me with empty eyes.

“I’m ready to tell you now,” Ella said, swallowing as she looked down at me. “You should know…you should really know what I did,” her voice turned stern like it was before,

“Something you did…?” I said aloud. Ella nodded just slightly.

“I ... .there was something I did that ... .something I’ve done that…that isn’t…” I could tell she was having trouble putting her thoughts into words, “something I’m not proud of,” she finally said. “...something I don’t expect you to…forgive me for,” she looked down at her legs sitting on the couch. I backed away slightly.

“What…? Why would I need to….” I started at her, shocked and confused. She cupped her face in her hands before looking down at me again. She swallowed as she began to explain.

“...me and…Derrick,” she bit her lip, pausing between her words, her eyes flickering, “we signed up as volunteers for these tests…where they put the growth hormones they were using on plants…in trees….and they were trying to see how it affected animals and humans…”

“W-why?” I asked during her pause.

“I don’t know…in case they used it in crops, and the hormones affect the humans that ate the crops.” Ella answered, “they injected it into us both, and kept us and ran test for….at least a week, I think. A couple maybe”

“It…it took over a week it to make you grow?” I asked.

“It was slow..well, it felt slow…technically, it was fast…all things considered” Ella said, going on, “my bones got thicker, and denser, and taller, and my flesh and skin stretched around them, and ripped before it grew too,” she described, looking at her hands, before looking back at me, shallowing spit again.

“Did it…hurt?” I asked. Ella rubbed the back of her neck and looked to her side, as if trying to think of a way to sugarcoat it,

“...it was just…growing pains, I guess,” Ella said, “it was sorta like being sore after working out…just, more extreme,” she looked down as she talked. Her face was scruched up a bit as she avoided eye contact. She held her own arm and rubbed her wrist anxoisly. She went on, “Eventuary, I grew to this height, and the growing stopped…so they started doing physical and…yeah, I was pretty much fine…just bigger,” she crossed her arms, holding herself. It was silent for a moment, as if she wanted that to be the end. Like she didn’t want to go passed that point. She just looked down not saying anything. She closed her eyes. I looked up at her from the table, wondering if I should ask or not. It seemed like a touchy thing for her. I decided to just guess what happened, thinking it might be better than asking.

“Um…was Derrick…” I bit my lip, “...not….fine…? I asked carefully. Ella looked down, her eyes seemed wetter than they were usually. She put her hand over her eyes and rubbed them, before looking at me sternly, but not angry or frustrated, not with me at least.

“No…he didn’t….he…didn’t make it through…he’s gone.” she said, stoic. “And I…lost my temper.”

“What….what do you mean?” I asked, confused, and a bit worried at how emotionless she seemed. I noticed her eyeballs were shaking slightly.

“well…I saw that Derrick was…gone…” she said, her eyes still shaky as she looked down away from me. “and…I got…mad…and did something…” her voice seemed shaky now. She cringed trying to keep her stern expression, her eyes twitching and her mouth biting the bottom of her lip. She stared at her hands, moving her fingers up and down..

“What…what did you do…?” I asked, more worried now for myself and her. She just kept looking down, silently. She took a deep breath. Her giant eyes were wet again, the water almost spilling out. Finally, she closed her eyes and stood up before she opened them again. She towered over the coffee table I was on, I was on the samelevel as her calves. Looking up, I couldn’t see what her face looked like, only that she was breathing heavily from the sound and that her hands were rubbing her eyes again. She looked down at me for a second, the water from her eyes visable as ever, almost dripping down on me. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, still covering her face with her hands.

“I…I’m sorry….I need a minute….I’m sorry,”

The giant walked away, I heard the door opening, and Ella stepping outside, leaving me on the coffee table by myself.

#g/t #giant/tiny #gt community #giant tiny #g/t community #sfw g/t #gianttiny #g/t writing #gt writing #sfw giant/tiny #sfw giantess #gt story #gt #giant

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ellekhen · 1 year ago

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43 and 17 😁😘

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you've just posted and wait for feedback?

Oof so this is where I make my confession — the answer is VERY obsessively.

I swipe to refresh for hours — between meetings, between gym reps, half-asleep in the middle of the night — checking to see if the kudos and views go up, and I get such a serotonin boost when I get comment notifications in my inbox. ^_^;

So yeah, I definitely experience also the opposite — getting bummed/down when there’s little engagement. I don’t want to say that to guilt anyone into validating me haha but I know it’s a fairly universal fic writer experience too! The AO3 subreddit has been a nice place to know I’m not alone in that. And it’s also something I’m working on for myself!

Honestly, as a newer author I feel so lucky to get any engagement at all! Especially after my very first fic was a long fic in a small fandom. Writing for BG3 been a very different experience for sure!

43. Talk about a positive experience with fanfiction or the fanfiction community that you will always remember.

I have felt really blessed to have had so many things to smile about — especially ever since rejoining tumblr. I wish I had done it sooner! I’ve found a little community here with readers, shout out especially to those I’ve gotten to chat and ramble with: @avashnea, @lumienyx, @the-cutest-deviant, @thetoastyurge, @agent-jaselin , and @kasumitanart.

I’m going to feel bad for missing anyone because I’m not confident about matching readers’ AO3 names to their tumblr names, but I’ve also been so grateful for @autumnlassitude, @grovyrosegirl, @chamtong, as well as a couple of the others listed earlier for so often leaving enthusiastic comments with every update.

If I didn’t mention you but you know you’re a recurring reader, it wasn’t intentional! Please introduce yourself in the comments so I know who you are! :D I wish I could thank you all individually. ❤️

One positive experience in particular was towards the beginning of my tumblr return when I decided to read a fic of a mutual, touch too much by @lumienyx.

I really loved it and it was the perfect comfort fic that I needed after some post-Mirror, mirror burnout (and generally a stressful week.) After I commented, they quickly replied so sweetly and enthusiastically, mentioning that Tipping the Scales was part of what inspired them to write the fic in the first place! I think I actually got teary-eyed to learn that someone not only loved what I wrote, but was inspired by it!

We then ended up chatting for hours (until like 3 or 4 AM my time haha) and I was just so excited to realize I had truly found my people on here.

So thank you, @lumienyx. :’) 💙 You were exactly who I needed to meet and chat with during the height of writing burnout!

(Thank you for asking, @the-cutest-deviant! ❤️)

#bg3 fanfiction #ao3 author #author rambles #ask the author #churchstarion #Churchverse #ellekhen #baldur’s gate fanfiction

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dragonmistressivy · 1 year ago

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So many things i need to say and not in order because i’m tired and sick. First Vivian is the name of that depressed girl I mentioned and not the trans girl don’t know how i made that mistake. Second i just spent the last like 2 hours crying to my mom about all my pain and suffering i have been hiding(obviously not all all but most) third we went to the beach again today so that was amazing /s. I want the body of alex because he is adorable. Or the trans girl. Both have bodies and lives i would prefer to mine. They both have cute gfs and both have bodies i want just on different parts of the type of body i want. Also the trans girl(i seriously need to learn her name because calling her the trans girl sounds dehumanizing) is so fucking pretty and has such a happy life and had the life i want bur way sooner and she seems so happy most of the time. I can tell she does hate one part of her body but not going into details because everyone already knows and i don’t need to focus on what she hates about herself. I just want to be happy. Also at the beach the group of spoiled rich girls got vivisn to goswimming in a bikini even tho she looked so uncomfortable. Also at lunch they gave her meat which she doesn’t eat so was barely touching the bread to make mirsky(the name of the teacher in charge of this trip) who was sitting at her table not ask her why she wasn’t eating anything. I barely ate anything and i sm exhausted but i was forced to do a guilded tour tgis morning fir like 30 minutes even tho i felt like i was going to past out the whole time and turns out i was running a fever so that was definitely not a good thing to force me to do. Especially since i will have to tour a whole city tomorrow in the like 95 degree weather without much shade while sick from exhaustion and then go to a greek evening whoch will take so long and i wouldn’t be anle to shave my face from when i shave it in the moring at around 6 am until at least like 11:30 pm. I will want to die. Also i just won’t eat greek food. I hate the snell and the way it looks and i haven’t had it before and i am insanely picky. Also there will be dancimg which will be hell as everyone else parties and dances and i just breakdown even more as my body is failing me and i am being pushed to my limits. Why did past me sign up for this. It was a good waste of at least 7k. And we can’t go back early because that would cost like 1k for just me to go home early. Just trip is a giant waste of money which we could have used for surgeries i want/need to mot kill myself. I will not be happy until my body is perfect and that is not possible with my height, my shoulders, my face, and my penis. I want all fixed. Also i can’t be completely fixed because cerebral palsy can’t be fixed. And probably not be fixable ever in my lifetime. This trip has brought the hands on my clock closer to midnight than if i hadn’t come here at all. I at least could get antidepressants like s month or more sooner than i will. I need a doctor to fix me please. I can’t be made normal. Also tinnitus can’t be fixed either. Also i need nee sinuses because mine are broken. A nee body please.

#mental illness #mental health #tw selfhate #tw sui ideation #tw self h4rm #transgender #transfem #no idea what else to tag this

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primejourney · 10 months ago

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Hi there, Vitalia!

Thank you so much for this wonderfully educational reply!! It was so kind of you to take the time to share art advice and even make some amazing, useful mock-ups! You really went above and beyond, and these tips are exactly what I’m looking for as an artist noob!

Also: I apologize for not replying sooner! I’ve gotten distracted by some life happenings, and I also wanted to have a good moment to sit down and digest all the good advice you gave me. (I also need to get better at dealing with choice-paralysis! It’s so silly since this is just a goofy little project I’m doing, but I still have to grapple with my perfectionism – I tend to put off stupidly simple choices… :,D Art projects like this though will hopefully help me overcome this!).

With your advice in mind, I have some ideas on what to do next with the scene!

I’m very tempted to follow your “zoom in” idea - I love the way the multiple trees look, and it creates a great sense of depth!. (In fact, I’m now entertaining am alternate idea where its reversed: we zoom out from a close shot of his face!) But as I am unsure exactly how to do this in After Effects yet, I might stick with my simple “two trees; static shot” composition first. Once I feel confident, I might use that as a base to create the “zoom in” effect!

(I think it could be as simple as changing the scale of Emmet AND the background, but I have a feeling messing around with AE’s camera tool might be useful if I want to make a cooler “3D-depth” effect with the tree background you proposed).

I also made some more mock-ups, moving Emmet to be placed around the lower horizon line to place more attention on the trees. Am I understanding and incorporating what I learned well? I’m always open to further critique!: Imgur Gallery of my Edits

Also, if you (or anyone else!) would find it useful, below the cut I included a big summary of what I’ve learned so far about horizon/eye lines and composition from your tips and in looking at other resources. I am unsure if I got everything right -- If you (or anyone else!) are willing, I’d love to know if there are any poor assumptions I’m making or if there might be some other tips I should know regarding composition.

Again, thank you so much for taking the time to help me! It was super kind of you to go out of your way to make an in-depth post, and it’s also fun to be able to interact like this with a fellow SubMas fan. (P.S. I’m super happy to hear my drawing of Emmet made you smile! ^w^).

I was first confused on the concepts of the horizon line and eye level/line. I wasn’t sure if there were two different things, and I wanted to understand better on what it meant to place a person’s face relatively around this point. So, I did a little more research.

THE BASIC CONCEPTS – WHAT IS THE HORIZON LINE AND EYE LEVEL?

From what I understand, the Horizon line and Eye Level are two different concepts, but closely related to each other on the topic of perspective in an art piece

Horizon line: where sky separates from land or water

Eye level: the actual height of the viewer’s eyes when looking at an object, interior scene, or an exterior scene

Usually the horizon line and eye line are on the same level as each other, and so the terms are often used synonymously.

The former term usually refers to drawings that are outdoors, while the latter is used for drawings that are indoors (since you can’t usually see the horizon when inside a room!). When drawing complex perspectives, you might have the horizon line at a different level than the eye level, but for the most part, they are the same.

As this redditor named FieldWizard noted: “The horizon line is always at the viewers eye level. Unless you are doing some weird drawing 100 miles above the surface of the planet. Then the horizon line is sort of abstract. The eye line is perpendicular to the picture plane. The eye line does not necessarily intersect the horizon”.

(I also noted that the eye level is also referred to as the eye line by most people I’ve run across online…I don’t think it’s a different thing entirely, but If I’m wrong, anyone can feel free to correct me!)

Other useful notes:

The Horizon Line moves up or down to adjust for your Eye Level (FieldWizard).

As a reminder: Vanishing points are basically than the center of the viewer’s vision (i.e. where your eyes are looking); they determine the orientation of the Picture Plane and the Ground Line.

Vanishing points don’t always converge on the horizon/eye line: The vanishing points of objects parallel to the ground converge to the horizon/eye line, but you might have cases where you want to depict a titled object. This object’s vanishing point could be above or below the horizon/eye line, depending on how it is titled. – LoveLifeDrawing shared this neat explanation (and has other useful notes on horizon/eye lines).

APPLYING THESE CONCEPTS TO ART COMPOSITION -- CREATING A SENSE OF PERSPECTIVE AND DETERMINING THE BEST PLACEMENT OF SUBJECTS IN AN ART PIECE

Now that I know what these concepts are, I can better understand how they can define the depiction of perspective and subjects in an art piece.

How perspective is created by the placement of the horizon line/eye level in an art piece:

“If the horizon is at the vertical center of your canvas, that means you're looking straight ahead, and vertical lines in the scene (perpendicular to the ground) aren't converging to viewpoints, assuming the image isn't cropped.

If your horizon is below the page center, you're looking up, and vertical lines are converging to a viewpoints above the page.

If your horizon is above the page center, you're looking down, and vertical lines are converging to a vp below the page.”

Source – Redditor “Averagetrailertrash”

The rule of thumb for placing people (& people’s heads/faces) in an art piece:

Generally, a good composition rule of thumb is to place people’s heads near the horizon line/eye line, specifically placing them in a way where their eyes line up with the horizon line. (It’s not a hard rule—you can subvert it—but it usually looks nice like this).

With all that said, the rule of thumb of where to place the horizon line, a piece’s subjects, and overall, decide the composition of a piece:

A rule-of-thirds grid can be very useful to setting a horizon line.

If you want to have more focus on the sky (the upper part of the rule-of-thirds grid), set the horizon line in (or near) the bottom row of the grid, with the subject of the sky being placed in the upper two rows.

If you want to have the focus on subjects near the ground (people, plants, etc.), place the horizon line in (or near) the top row of the grid so that the viewer’s eye is drawn to the subjects in the top two rows.

You can place subjects in the middle row too, but can place them in the upper or lower part of that row based on the ideas above

For further reading: This blog has a nice article explaining using Rule of Thirds Grids and The Golden Ratio in art pieces

Hey you!! Yes, you!

Now that I've got your attention!: This isn't Sept-Ingo related, but I was wondering if any kind soul(s) out there would be willing to give me some art advice!

Interested? More under the cut

I'm currently working on an animation project starring the lovely smiley choo-choo man himself, Emmet! I don't want to share more since I'd like it to be a surprise, but I'm looking forward to pushing myself to learn After Effects while doing this.

However, still being an art noob of sorts here, I am feeling some indecision about how to do things, lol. Mainly, I am trying to figure out what kind of placement/composition to go for...I'm horribly indecisive, so an outside opinion from more seasoned artists than me would be wonderful!

I have a few options here. You can see my mockups in the Imgur link here (as silly as it sounds, I don't want my cruddy sketches here to clog up my blog feed): https://imgur.com/a/mBRQIr7

I suppose I will have to spill some beans on what I'm planning here: I want to make flowers bloom onto the trees as Emmet's expression changes. I'm stuck on whether I want to put more attention on his face or the trees (i.e., should Emmet be the focus and ergo, bigger...or smaller as we want to focus on the trees?). I also don't know if his placement looks awkward or not (following the rule of thirds or something idk???).

I'm leaning toward making his face the focus, but I would like to hear what others have to say! Thank you!!

#submas #subway boss emmet #art advice #art composition #horizon line #eye line #rule of thirds #learning art stuff!#reblog stuff

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yoonqua · 3 years ago

Text

help!

mingi x reader // word count: 976 // non idol au

(the seasons greetings couldn’t have come at a better time)

“I like you.”

You stare at the boy standing in front of you in pure disbelief–your mouth hanging so low it might as well have been scraping on the ground. You feel like you’re dreaming–like you're floating. Cause ain’t no way that he just said those words to you right now.

This must be a joke, it has to be. But he’s looking at you with those eyes. Like he’s pleading at you to acknowledge him. His lips are pursed together and eyebrows scooted together in concentration. He’s looking down at you slightly due to your height difference and you think it’s the cutest thing ever.

Oh, Mingi, you think, you sweet sweet boy. You had been crushing on him since freshman year of high school. And coincidentally he was a friend of your best friend, so you saw him enough to quench that crush-feeling and eventually it was something you could easily ignore. Until you both ended up going to the same university.

You actually didn’t see him too often, and it wasn’t until the end of fall semester that you bumped into him in the hall on your way to your last final exam. His face had brightened up so much you thought you would faint. His smile was so wide it turned his eyes into small crescents. He had enveloped you into a hug and you immediately turned into a 16 year old you.

After that he had asked you to catch up a few times. You’ve only gone twice since your schedules don't align with Mingi being on the football team and you constantly being swarmed with art projects and internships. So, his confession currently was sending you into complete and utter shock.

“What…” Is the only thing that can come out of your mouth currently, which causes Mingi’s eyebrows to shoot upwards most likely in confusion, poor guy.

“I said,” he sighs, “I like you–and it’s actually been a while.” He starts fidgeting with his hands as you make him suffer with no response back, “I just never found the courage to–I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to do with my life and didn’t want to hold any of us back from our dreams over a confession.” he rambles.

You remember his dream back in high school–well, his and Yunho’s. They were going to be famous and you’d be able to leech off of their money and fame as their friend. What you didn’t know was what those two went through that caused their dream to be completely shattered.

“That’s sweet Mingi,” is what you say while remembering how carefree you all were in high school. See, this is why you always had such a hard time with your feelings for him. Giant, sweet, considerate Mingi. How could anyone not love him? You were starting to regret your own reasoning for not confessing your feelings, because he was willing to say his, but he was still considerate of your own life in not doing so.

“I’m so sorry, Mingi,” you begin and Mingi can feel his heart physically stop, “I should’ve said something sooner,” he’s breathing again, maybe there is hope? “I’ve liked you since high school.”

“Huh?” he says intelligently paired with wide eyes and a large smile. He forms a tight smile trying not to laugh.

“Yea,” you say shyly, “I just never said anything because I was scared–which was dumb of me! Cause you’re the kindest and most honest person I’ve met,” and now you’re the one rambling and fidgeting in your confession, “So I apologize.”

“Hey,” he says, causing you to look up, “You don’t have to worry about a thing, high school was scary overall. And we’re now so,” he drags and tilts his head to the side and you focus on the mole under his eye that moves along with his face.

“So,” you begin to try and break the awkward tension, “Why’d you do it now?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, knowing you, I always thought you would be the type to confess in a more romantic place instead of the library while I’m half covered in paint,” you shrug and you see the gears turning in

“You’ve thought of me confessing before?” He smirks at you and you roll your eyes and let the blush creep its way on your face because there’s simply no point in fighting it.

“Well, it was sort of a last minute thing- but you look cute in paint!” Oh you sweet boy. You now lower your face, placing your paint brushes next to you on the table as you laugh quietly.

“Oh man, if this happened in high school I would’ve gone crazy,”

“I really should've, especially after Yunho said– wait.” he catches himself from rambling. Nice save, Mingi.

“Yunho?” you question and Mingi sits up straighter, eyes darting everywhere but your own.

“Have I told you about how pretty you looked during prom?” you falter and look at him like a deer caught in headlights, until you remember how that night went down exactly. You had ordered your outfit online, but the store sent the wrong one and in a completely different color making you stand out and visible from a mile away.

“Nah nah, you and Yunho laughed at me when I left my room and kept laughing even after I changed.” You point at him jokingly and he laughs at just remembering that moment. He didn’t think you looked ugly at all; what he said before was true.

“Back to what I was saying—Yunho told you?” and now you were talking in a somewhat serious tone. “I think I need to pay him a visit.” You say as you begin to slowly pack up your supplies, Mingi also begins to help as he thinks of ways to save Yunho and possibly himself.

#mingi x reader #ateez #ateez mingi #mingi x y/n #mingi x you #mingi imagines #mingi scenarios #mingi drabble #mingi imagine #song mingi #ateez yunho #jeon yunho #yunho

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whiskeyswriting · 3 years ago

Text

Love Me Like You - Chapter 1: Breathe

Read Chapter 2: A Mess (Happy 4 U)

😍pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x F!Reader

💭summary: High school and college sweethearts. That’s what the two of you were. And that’s the keyword: were. What are you to do when you come face to face with the man that broke your heart three years ago?

⚠️warning: mentions of alcohol consumption

🎶 Song Inspiration 1: Breathe by Little Mix

🎶 Song Inspiration 2: A Mess (Happy 4 U) by Little Mix

🎶 Song Inspiration 3: Love Me Like You by Little Mix

If anyone has asked, your love story with Jake was a fairytale. It wasn’t love at first sight. No. It was more like slow burn friends to lovers.

Growing up in the same small Texas town, you two always knew each other since elementary school. At first you were good friends. That was until Jake started hitting puberty come middle school.

Boys being boys is what people would tell you when he would tease you for not growing and staying short. The other girls in middle school started developing and teasing you too.

He quickly put a stop to them. In his eyes, he was the only one that could tease you because you were his friend.

Then came high school. Jake hadn’t seen you during the summer since your family went to visit friends in Europe. He was expecting to see the you he was used to.

He was not expecting the height you now reached, much less the soft curves that came over the summer. “Hi Jake!”

“Wow! You’re like a real girl now!” The punch to his arm takes him by surprise.

“Jerk!” You huff and cross your arms, making him laugh.

“You’re still so cute when you get angry. Tiny.”

“You’re incorrigible Jacob Steve Seresin… The fifth!”

“You did not just legal name me… I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he says wrapping you in a hug. “Still perfect size to hug.”

You give in and hug him back. “So are you Jakey.”

That first day of high school was the first day of the rest of your lives. It was inevitable that the two would try and date other people, but the little green monster of jealousy would make you mad at each other. That was until you both admitted your feelings for each other.

And so you two, despite being in totally different social circles, dated all through high school. When the time to pick colleges came, the two of you both wanted the same schools.

Jake, however, had a dream that he never told you about. He wanted to apply to the Naval Academy and so he did. He applied as soon as he turned 17. And every year he kept applying, improving his grades, until he was accepted just after his 21st birthday.

The same day he got accepted was your party for finishing your associates degree earlier than planned.

You were all dolled up and waiting for Jake to pick you up. When you hear him arriving, you rush out the door to meet him outside.

He takes his time getting out of his truck. He knows what he’s about to do is the worst thing in his life, but he feels like it’s still the best thing for the both of you.

Despite being anxious at his delay, something in his body language stops you from rushing to him.

He keeps the truck on as he approaches you at your front door. “Hey doll… Can we talk?” He makes no attempt to kiss you in greeting, though he wishes to do nothing else but kiss you.

“Is everything okay Jake?” You ask.

“Doll… there’s something that… I haven’t told you everything about me. About what I want.”

“Jake. We tell each other everything. What else is there for me to learn about you?”

“I’m leaving Texas. I’m going to Maryland…” he can’t bring himself to look you in the eyes.

“Maryland? What? Why?”

“Annapolis actually.”

At hearing the name, you knew. “You joined the Navy? That’s amazing Jake!” You move to hug him but he takes a step back, causing the first crack in your heart.

“It is. I’ve been applying since I turned 17 and got accepted today… I leave tomorrow. The sooner the better.”

“I’ll help you to the airpo-“

“No. You won’t. I’ll have my parents take me. We’re done.” He pauses for a moment, knowing that what he says next will make you hate him but it was easier to have you hate him than to leave you with a false hope that he would return. “I need to end this before you expect me to give up my dream of being an aviator. We had fun and nice run… But high school relationships don’t last. We never meant to last this long.”

The world around you stopped and started spinning counterclockwise at the same moment. You could feel your heart was in a free fall, awaiting for the hit that breaks it.

“I need to be single to focus on my career. You’ll only hold me back.” And that’s the hit that sank your heart deeper into the fall and finally reached the spike-covered floor.

He doesn’t give you time to say goodbye or even refute his statements. He turns and gets back in his truck and drives off.

It’s safe to say that you missed your own party that night. As well as the attempts of your friends to try to get you to go out for brunch to know what happened.

It had now been a month since Jake broke your heart and left you. You decided to pack up the little reminders of him and put them away.

You decide to pack a second box of stuff to return to his parents. With that you write him a note:

Jake:

I know things are never going to be the same for us. And I get it. I’m not going to beg you to love me. We can’t force what isn’t meant to be right?

Anyways, I’m leaving some of your stuff with your parents.

Before I end this letter… let me just admit that:

1: I can't erase your number and

2: I'm still sleepin' in your jumper

I kinda hate it that I love ya but I’m trying to let you go.

I do wish you the best. Xoxo

You seal the note in an envelope and place it in the box to drop off to his parents. As you close the box, a splash of the whiskey you’re drinking falls onto the box.

“If I call you, will you pick up?” You ask an invisible Jake. When you see there’s no response, you take another long sip from the bottle. “Guess I'm drownin' in the liquor.”

A knock at your bedroom door pulls you away from the bottle. “Come in,” you slur loudly.

Cindy enters and takes you in. “Oh babe,” she sits next to you on the floor and just lets you lay your head on her shoulder as you start crying again.

“I- He doesn’t love me anymore!” You repeat over and over until you can barely speak. “I can’t breathe without him Cin… I don’t want to.”

“It’ll be hard. But you’ll be able to. I’m here for you. And will continue to be here.”

And she was. She kept her promise. Day after day and week after week until months passed by and eventually you started returning to normal.

Every day that passed the pain would lessen. The future you once planned was amended. You had kept all your promises. The only one you broke was one you made to yourself. You promised yourself that you wouldn't reach out to him.

You did only once to wish him a happy new year.

His response? Silence.

🏷 List: @luckyladycreator2 @cycbaby @callsign-dragonbaron @callsignscupcake @dxmerons

#mrsjaderogerswrites #tgm #tgm fic #tgm things #top gun maverick #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader

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moonwritewastaken · 3 years ago

Text

Tales of Christmas Day 13 - cc!Sapnap x gn!reader

Genre - strangers to lovers, Christmas!, retail worker reader

Warnings - language

Word count - 631

Welcome back for day 13! I hope everyone is having a great December ❤️

- 🌙

It was 3 hours until your shift was over and it couldn’t end any sooner. The retail store you work at had been super busy for the past week in the lead up to Christmas, with people leaving their festive shopping until the last minute.

There was only one thing getting you through your shift today, and that was the cute guy that came into the store almost an hour ago with his friends. The group of 3 seemed like they were in their own world, showing each other items the other would then cuss them out for. The one you had your eyes on was an average height brunette with a little beard who you had seen enter the store and you were down bad.

Throughout their time in the store, you had seen the other boys either look or not so subtly point in your direction. They had also come up to you asking for recommendations despite walking past your coworkers on the way to you.

“Excuse me, do you know where I can find the nerf guns?” you're brought out of your train of thought by a fluffy haired, tall guy who is also a part of their group.

“They’ll be in aisle 15, let me know if you need more help” you return the smile and point towards the direction of aisle 15. He thanks you before approaching his friends and leading them to where you pointed.

*With Sapnap*

On the other hand, Sapnap had been teased relentlessly by the other 2/3 of the Dream Team. He looked at you just a little too long soon after they arrived, it was picked up by Dream and he hadn’t been left alone since.

“Just ask her out, Sapnap” George had repeated this sentence in different ways at least 20 times by now and the answer was always the same. No.

“What’s the worst that could happen? They say no and then you’ll probably never see them again” Dream had a valid point but Sapnap deemed it too much of a risk regardless, not wanting to be rejected.

Because Sapnap wasn’t willing to ask you out or even talk to you, the other 2 took it upon themselves to at the very least get you to notice him. However, they were unaware that you were just as interested in him.

After what Sapnap regarded as one too many times they went up to you, he gave in.

“Okay, fine. I’ll fucking ask them out just stop” Dream and George share a look before almost pushing Sapnap in your general direction.

He hesitates for a few seconds before deciding it was better to get it over with. Approaching you, he clears his throat causing you to turn around. Once you’re face to face, you give him a smile even though you’re freaking out on the inside.

“How can I help?” he was even better looking up close, something you didn’t think could be possible.

“I’m sorry for my friends asking you like a million questions earlier, they’re assholes” you laugh at his word before replying.

“It’s okay, that’s what I’m here for! Anything else?” it was normal for you to ask a customer they needed anything else but you were hoping this guy would ask for your number or something. Your wish is answered soon after.

“He thinks you’re cute” Dream walks by. clearly unimpressed with how the conversation was going. His statement causes the both of you to blush.

“I told you they’re assholes. Could I get your number?” your laugh returns and you nod before giving him your number. He tells you to text him when you’re done with work so you can make a plan and they leave soon after.

Today’s shift was most definitely worth it.

#sapnap #sapnap imagine #dream smp #dsmp #dtqk #sapnap x reader #sapnap fluff #dream smp x reader #dream team imagine #dream team #dream team x reader #x reader #dtqk imagine #dtqk x reader #dream smp imagine #tales of christmas

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rafescoke · 4 years ago

Note

Never sent a request idk if I do this right. Been to lazy and not good lately and honestly I just need a good fluff. The basic plot where he is in a bad mood like angry and then he turns to his lover etc etc. Do your thing I just need some comfort and love!

Cupcake ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Maybe making cupcakes with a girl he likes won’t be a bad thing

Warnings: Slight angst on the earlier part, cursing, substance, extreme fluff, adorable Rafe Cameron

A/N: I hope you're doing good, sending all my love and hugs @ you <33 remember to rest!!! @asimpwriter

p.s; you know the drill - send any requests!

"Fuck off," Rafe sighed, shutting his eyes against the bright chandelier above the dinner table. Since when did it got so bright? The last time he checked, it was dimmed. "I swear Sarah, say one more word and I'll fucking kill you."

"Rafe," Ward sighed, placing his cutleries down onto the expensive wooden table. "It's family time. Excuse your sister."

"She's hanging around with those stupid pogues, dad!" he groaned, not wanting to believe that his dad was on her side. Not that he was ever on his, but he thought his father would have the same mindset as him towards this topic.

"Let. It. Go."

"They're my friends," she breathed, and Ward closed his eyes again, knowing the screaming that was about to occur. "I'm sorry you're stuck with Topper-"

"Didn't you cheat on him?" he laughed, and turned to look at his dad. He mouthed at him with an amused expression, "She cheated on him."

"I didn't, and we broke up 2 weeks ago. I'm sorry he couldn't move on from me," Sarah shrugged, and Rafe watched as she put aside her green beans and offered some of the mashed potatoes to Wheezie.

How could she act so normal about this?

"Oh, and-" Sarah turned to Ward, and Rafe waited impatiently for the lies that was about to slip from her mouth. "Do you know that he does drugs?"

"Sarah!" Rose yelled, furrowing her eyebrows as Rafe laughed out loud, clapping his hands loudly that the sound echoed throughout the huge house. "It's a family dinner!"

"I don't give a fuck about this family," Sarah said, removing the napkin from her lap and quickly standing up to get out of the house. Ward didn't say anything, neither did Rose, and after a few seconds, he let out a sigh.

"This is getting out of hand," he started, clasping his hands. "Rafe, I'm no longer letting you take over my business."

Rafe stopped his movements, looking at his father with widened eyes. After all those time he spent at college, trying to make his father proud and to take over the business, only for this?

"Dad, you can't. She's lying, dad, I haven't been using drugs."

"I saw the stash, Rafe," he sighed, and Rafe thought about the space under his bed. He closed his eyes, muttering a ‘fuck’ when he finally remembered the empty space. He didn't think much about it earlier, thinking about how he must have used up all of the powder.

"Until you get your life back on track, or nothing at all."

"Dad-"

"Go find your sister, and bring her home."

"Dad, please-"

"Go find Sarah."

"Okay," he sighed, standing up immediately and letting the chair scraped the polished floor. Wheezie shifted uncomfortably at the sound, and Rafe had an urge to do it again, just for the sake of riling his father's anger.

He cursed silently, walking away towards the table and to the porch, all while thinking about the joy if he could destroy the Pogues' life for making his hard.

The drive from Figure 8 to The Cut took him 30 minutes at high speed and being fully caffeinated, and when he arrived at the Chateau, all riled up from the quarrel with his father that he had before, he didn't try to see if his sister was even in there before barging into the small home.

"Yo, what the fuck?"

"Where's Sarah?" he muttered, giving Kie his side glance and continued searching for her. "Where the fuck is she?"

"Yo, bro, this land is off to the kooks," JJ stepped in, eye to eye as he leveled up to Rafe's height. He was only an inch shorter, but the difference was apparent. He continued to place his hands against his chest, whispering slowly. "Especially to crackheads like you."

Rafe laughed, tilting his head to the back to release the tension building up in his body. He was so, so close to give the blonde boy the consequences of his words, but was halted when Sarah entered the room, hand in hand with John B.

"What are you doing here?" she groaned, walking forward and standing in front of him. "God, can't you leave me alone?"

"Oh, trust me, I rather do that more than anything especially-" his eyes trailed to John B, "When you're fucking with a trash."

"JJ-" Kie stepped up, pulling JJ's shirt to stop him from doing anything. She sighed, knowing that this was bound to happen anytime soon, and she had told John B about this before, but he didn't listen. Now it was like her job to protect her friends from Rafe.

"Leave," Sarah stated, her lips pulled into a tight grimace. "Leave before I'll tell dad about this."

"I'm just trying to protect you," he ran his fingers through his hair, making it more messier than ever. Why couldn't she get that? All he was doing - it was all to protect her, so that his father could see him for what he's worth.

"You know what?" he sighed, wrapping his face with his large hands and turning towards the exit. "You wanna be one of them? Go. Don't ever come back home. You're just another trash, anyways."

He wasn't sure if he meant them, or if it came from the heat of the moment. All he could think about was to run away, to hide and to never come out and face his father or the judgement put by everyone else. He felt an uneasy feeling rising in the pit of her stomach, but he was too proud to say sorry.

“That was useless," he thought, leaning over his motorcycle and blinking his eyes against the lights by the side of the road. He couldn't go back now, not when his father had just ordered him to bring Sarah home and he had failed to do so, and he couldn't go to Barry's; his dad could find him there if he search for him the next day.

He groaned, feeling the cold air nipping at his skin until the final thought occurred to him. He laughed then, not sure as to why he hadn't been thinking of that sooner, and soon he was in front of the mini apartment.

He rapped on the door and waited patiently, his heartbeat quickening. He looked at his watch, checking if his arrival was too late. He groaned, noticing the time, but it would be embarrassing for him to turn now.

(Y/N) was trying to figure out what colour should she put into the frosting mixture, her hands on her waist when she heard the knock.

Her head instinctively looked at the clock, frowning when she read the time. It was not that late, only around 10 p.m., but she was not ready for any guests or her friends to come over.

Had she been too loud that the cranky neighbor next door who sleeps early everyday had come to tell her off?

She sighed, lowering the music coming from the radio before making her way to the door. She was in nothing but her ribbed top and a pair of sweatpants, and her hair was messier than ever.

"I'm sorry, Jerry," she sighed, opening the door to greet the old man. But standing in front of her was not the grey-haired man with furrowed eyebrows, ready to scold her, but it was the boy she had been crushing on since forever instead.

"Rafe?" she exclaimed, and she couldn't deny the shock spreading through her veins at the sight of him. He was sweaty, like he had just been in a fight, and his shirt was sticking to his body. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, I'm sorry, can I come in?"

The smell of freshly baked cupcakes wafted into his nostrils, and he noticed the drool in his mouth. He didn't eat dinner that much, being forced to chase after his sister, and all he wanted was to enjoy some good food and get a good sleep for the night.

"I'm not. . . we can't. . . I'm not prepared for anything-"

"It's okay, I didn't come for sex," he bit his lips, trying to contain her amused laughter at her statement. "We're friends, (Y/N), aren't we?"

"Yeah," she raised a brow, not grasping at the way he was playing his words. She allowed him in, asking him to sit by the kitchen counter and checking her porch outside to see if there was any cameras in case he was trying to prank her.

Rafe Cameron never contacted her for anything if it wasn't for sex.

"What are you making?" he pointed at the mess on the kitchen, and (Y/N) tried to hide her red face as she quickly tried to put the stained bowls and cutleries into the sink.

"Uh, cupcakes."

"Yum," he chuckled, liking the way she was so nervous around him. The truth with (Y/N), she was extremely wild in bed but also very shy outside. It was like a complete two different person, but he was always intrigued by this.

The first time they had done the deed, he was shocked when she got into control, and he would lie if he said he didn't enjoy it. That night was one of Rafe’s best nights, the starting point to the many after.

"Relax, (Y/N)," he laughed, watching as she tilted a cup and placing his hand under the table to catch it before it could break. (Y/N) yelped, struck to her position, and let out the biggest relief when Rafe put it back to its previous place, safe as ever.

"Why are you so jumpy?" he whispered, sneaking beside her to help with whatever she was doing. He hadn't got a clue about this whole baking thing, only watching Cake Wars for the drama, but he wanted to help the girl beside him if it means he got to spend time with her.

"What are you doing?" she muttered, glancing at Rafe's hands as he whisked the fluffy frosting. "Rafe, you're going to get it more clumpy."

"No, I won't."

"Rafe, I swear," she groaned, reaching over to grab the whisk only for him to turn around, laughing while she struggled to get him.

"I'm just making it more fluffier," he smiled, continuing to whisk the mixture without even looking at the white colloid. He was too busy looking at her, and he wondered if she knew about the small amount of flour powder that had gotten on the top of her nose.

"Was the coke good?"

"Huh?" she tilted her head, confused, and still angry at the way he was not listening to her.

"The nose. Was the coke good?"

(Y/N) gave him a look before going to the corner to stare at herself in the mirror, letting out a yelp when she saw the powdery stain on her nose. She quickly dusted them off, stalking back to the still-whisking boy, and she wondered about the amount of energy he had in him and how he was still not tired.

"Rafe! It's all clumped!" she sighed, finally having a hold on the large bowl. She took her a finger and tipped it into the mixture, pulling out before slipping the finger into her mouth. Her face scrunched up, and she reached for the glass of water by her side.

"What? It's more prettier. More texture-ish. If we're in Cake Wars, we'll be the winner."

"That's not how it works," she groaned, pouring the failed mixture into the sink and letting the water cleansed them off. "Now my cupcake's going to be naked."

"You know what can be naked too?"

She held up her middle finger, placing the wet bowl onto the counter and using the clean cloth to wipe it dry. "And I'm not giving these to the children's home naked. You have to help me, Rafe."

Rafe felt a smile tugging on his lips at the mention of 'children’s home', and he thought about how perfect could she be. She’s the epitome of the girl everyone wants to be - she's good in school, never using anyone's money for her, good at baking, and has a big heart?

He thought about how she's good in bed too, but he tired to shake the childish thought away.

"What can I do? Should I go to the store and get any Betty Crocker's frosting?" he offered, his hands in his pocket to reach for his keys. He watched as her shoulder slumped, and he felt bad for ruining her cake. He touched her shoulder, "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't know it would actually be clumped. I thought it would get even more fluffier."

"You don't think, Rafe, that's why," she sighed, "But that's alright. Do you think you can help me make another one?"

"Are you sure? I don't want to ruin anything," he backed away, glancing at the sink and thinking about the clumped mixture making their way to the sewer.

"Yes. Can you reach for that sugar? That's flour, Rafe, god, yes, yes, okay, c'mere," she rolled her eyes, taking the container from him and dumping the content into the dried bowl. "Now, what do we do?"

"Put water?"

(Y/N) laughed, tilting her head to one side, trying to clutch her stomach from hurting. "Yeah, if you want the kids to get sick."

"Okay, Gordon, what should we do next?" he grunted, but he liked the lightness in the air. How the conversation flowed easily, and how quick he regained her trust to help her make whatever this is.

It was like she didn't care about the Rafe Cameron that gets into fights with the pogues or snorts coke when he's stressed. He felt like staying in this moment forever, wanting to help her bake whatever and watching her smile.

(Y/N) handed him the butter, muttering something along the words of 'dump them in', 'use the mixture', 'you're going to break your arms' and 'watch while it's whisking'.

He didn't care about the many orders she was giving him - he enjoyed it. He truly liked how his night was ending after a long day of bullshit, starting with his college sending him a letter for the vandalism he had caused outside of the Dean's office, Kelce and Topper going on a road trip without him and giving him the explanation of 'we asked you, and you said no'.

In truth, he didn't even remember anything about meeting them. His memory was starting to fade, and he shuddered at the thought of not knowing anyone when he reaches Ward's age.

"Okay, that's enough," she groaned, switching the button off. Rafe apologized quickly, being so caught up with his own thoughts, and waited for her next order.

"Choose the colour," she exclaimed happily, pointing out two different food dyes. "I can't choose!"

Rafe skimmed over the label that said 'blue' and 'pink', and made a face. "Are you going to give the blue ones to the boys and the pinks to the girls or something?"

"What? No?"

"Okay. . . why can't we just use both?"

"And make purple?"

"Yeah? Hey, look, I'm wearing blue and you're wearing pink!"

(Y/N) looked down to the ribbed top, noticing the colour, and her face turned into a red shade. Now everything's going to be awkward.

"Okay, purple it is," she rolled her eyes, giving him the blue bottle and taking the pink one for herself. "Three drops together. Are you ready?"

"Mhm."

"1."

Rafe licked his lips, so eager to watch the colour forming.

"2," she looked at him, and back to the frosting. "Rafe!"

"What?" he raised a brow, following her gaze and watching the blue dots on the frosting. He put his hand over his mouth, too stunned to say anything. "Oh my god, I'm so-"

(Y/N) laughed out loud, this time with her hands gripping onto the kitchen counter to stabilize herself, her mind rewinding back to his expression when he found out what he just did.

"Ha-ha, now you're just being an asshole," he rolled his eyes, but he was glad he had made her laugh. Instinctively, her laugh had made him feel better, and all of his worries dissipated into the air.

After a while, she tried to get ahold of herself to put the pink drops in, but failing to do so as his face kept appearing in her mind. Rafe groaned, having to wait for a few minutes now, and pulled her to feet. He pushed her against the counter, her back against his front as he trapped her.

"Don't laugh."

(Y/N) bit her lips, being in this position but not for what they usually do, and concentrated on dropping 3 drops of pink into the bowl. She cheered when she was done, pulling his hand away to move to the other side. The back of her neck was still hot, and she could still feel his arms around her.

"Mix it," Rafe smiled, leaning against the counter to watch as the mixer whisked the frosting, turning the pearly white colloid to a beautiful dark purple.

"It's dark!" she groaned, but she thought about how it still looked good, though it wasn't her expectation. Her job was almost finished now, and she could hear her bed calling.

"Now, the fun part," she smiled, taking her icing materials and placing them before his eyes. She watched as he laughed, being so excited as if he was a toddler seeing a playground for the first time.

"They used these in Cake Wars," he said proudly, showing her a nozzle.

"Stop with your Cake Wars," she mumbled, preparing the icing bag and giving Rafe one. "Put some frosting- not yet, Rafe, God, do you ever wait? Don't fill the bags too much, just in the middle, yes, just like that, and, wait, let me do mine."

She showed him how to do the perfect icing, practicing on a clean plate and asking him to do the same. He scoffed at her, saying how he got this, but what appeared was nothing more than a crooked line.

"That's nice," she muttered, sighing. "For a coming-out party."

Rafe groaned, trying to copy her artwork, and by the time it was 12.03 a.m., he had managed a copy of hers. Not literal, but there was a hint of hers in his.

"Okay. Now, Rafe, we'll make this quick. I do 80 cupcakes, and you do 20. Is that okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, concentrating on his piping bag. He watched as she did the first cupcake, ending her icing perfectly and exclaiming happily as she put it aside. She looked at him, waiting.

"Don't look at me, you're making me nervous," he mumbled, and leaned to decorate the cupcake. It took him a total of 2 minutes, stopping at times and getting a yell from (Y/N), saying how he should not stop, and the result was impressive. At least to him.

"This will probably be in the rejected part of a bakery, you know, that they'll sell with a discount."

"Not everyone can do arts, (Y/N)," he rolled his eyes, but he truly enjoyed the joke.

It was nearing one in the morning when Rafe saw her sighing in relief, placing the last cupcake into the pastry box and safely storing them in the refrigerator. Her hair was in a bun, he had helped her put them up, and when she refused to let him help her, he gave her a poke.

"What? It's not like it's my first time putting your hair up."

"God, Rafe, you're impossible."

His eyes were almost shut, being so tired after being a cake decorator, and all he wished for was to pull her into her bed and sleep until the morning greets them. He waited until she was done cleaning all of the utensils, walking tiredly towards to him to wake him up.

"Get change, Rafe, I'm not letting you sleep in my bed with that shirt and that sweatpants."

"It's not a problem before," he mumbled, allowing himself to be pulled by her to the bedroom. He removed his shirt weakly, pulling off his sweatpants and jumping into the bed as soon as she closed the light. (Y/N) giggled lightly, noticing how adorable he was being, and she pinched his cheeks before she could stop herself.

"Take off your clothes."

"I'm not going to take off my clothes," she laughed, pulling down her shorts and getting into the bed beside him. She finally laid her back against the mattress, letting out the biggest relief ever as she tried to get comfortable.

He pulled her close towards him, breathing into her scent. She smelled like cupcakes, and he loved it.

"I'm going to the children's home with you."

"What?" she pulled a face, because she wasn't sure if she had heard him right. There was no way Rafe Cameron would ever step his foot into a children's home, what more to give out dark purple cupcakes.

"I'm going to the children's home with you. To give them cupcakes."

(Y/N) smiled and kissed his cheeks. "Okay."

"And we should do this again."

"Okay."

"Goodnight, Rafe," she laughed lightly, placing another peck before closing her eyes.

He placed a long kiss fully on her lips, feeling the butterflies soaring in his stomach. "Goodnight, (Y/N)."

taglist is close atm until i figure out wtf is up with tumblr :(

@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleep @im19yearsold @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @drewstarkeyluver @unfortunatekiwitrash @Mellifluouszayn @hhishho @hvrcruxes @scottybitch @asimpwriter @starxqt @amaya124 @Made212 @adriee16 @eggirl @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @beyatch012 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @lumzs @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasause @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @Emmalvei_03 @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagines #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagines #rafe cameron smuts #rafe cameron fluff #outerbanks #outerbanks imagines #outerbanks x reader

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keithbutgay · 2 years ago

Text

Letters to You (a platonic Kidge fic)

(What if Lotor never arrived? What if Keith's Naxzela plan had actually gone through? What if Pidge started writing letters to him to cope?)

CW: implied sh, implied ed, implied self-sacrifice, death, depression (I'm sorry guys)

~~~

A while ago, I was talking to you. It wasn’t our last conversation, We were at my house, eating candy and talking about nothing and everything.

You were lecturing me on taking care of myself, and mentioned a friend of yours who had broken their ribs from binding unhealthily.

You were always such a hypocrite, as much as you liked to deny it. You were worse at taking care of yourself than I was.

I asked you if the friend was okay, and you looked at me, bluntly stating that they were dead.

I didn’t know how to respond then. I don’t really know now.

You said you shouldn’t be joking about having dead friends.

But guess who has the dead friend now, Keith?

Guess who?

~~~

I was going through my texts and found the conversation between the two of us.

I started scrolling through it, and amid all of the 2 am talks about cheese, the interesting facts, the cartoon shows, I found it.

It was after you had joined the Blade. You’d never messaged me before then.

You told me you missed me, let me know that you were visiting. But we never did plan anything, did we Keith?

I should have said something sooner. I should have written back. I knew I should have.

But I didn’t.

And look where we are now.

~~~

You used to always joke that I couldn’t listen to Ricky Montgomery.

I used to always joke that you couldn’t listen to Mother Mother.

It was our little thing (we listened to both anyway).

And when our dysphoria got too bad, we could just joke that we should switch bodies. (I always was jealous of your height)

Your sense of humor might have been more than a little skewed.

But it was okay.

Because we could be skewed together.

~~~

There’s someone at the Garrison who kind of looks like you.

I keep seeing them around.

They tied their hair back today, making it look short, and I saw you.

But it wasn’t you.

It will never be you.

I should really be used to that.

~~~

I text the others every so often.

I hear I’m the only one they’ll talk to anymore. You’d think that would make me feel special, but it really hurts.

Lance still loves you, Keith. He never got over you. He wants you to come back. Needs you to. We all do.

But not even the others will message him. Not after he asked to talk to you one too many times.

One of the others texted me this morning, at 4 am. I could have cried when I saw the notification.

It’s been so long since I’ve talked with any of you.

And yet this person missed me. This person wants to see me.

But you’re gone.

How long can I handle another person in your place?

Meeting up with them might end up being the hardest thing I’ll have to do for a while.

It hurts just to see your face.

~~~

You told me you were Galra before you told the rest of the crew. I guess you thought I’d be more likely to understand you.

I didn’t believe you at first.

Maybe because I didn’t want to. I was scared, we all were. But you had always acted and looked so human… I didn’t see how you could ever be a monster, like they are. Like the ones who took my family.

But as soon as I thought about it, I knew you wouldn’t be lying about that. And maybe I noticed a few signs every so often. The impeccable night vision, the sharp canines, the colorblindness.

I guess it all makes sense now.

Despite all this, I never thought of you as any different than who you were before. I never treated you any different.

Maybe if I had, you wouldn’t be gone.

~~~

I went to your house once. Before Kerberos, before you were expelled.

Did you even remember that?

We played Identity V, and KillBot, and Cards Against Humanity (much to Matt’s amusement and Shiro’s horror).

I bought that game. Did I ever tell you that?

I bought Cards Against Humanity because us playing that game is one of the only memories I have of you.

I can’t lose that.

~~~

I’m sorry.

I’m so, so sorry.

I’m sorry I ruined your last moments with your boyfriend.

I’m sorry I didn’t hug you goodbye.

I’m sorry I let you go.

I’m sorry that I acted like I didn’t care, that I brushed it all off.

I’m so sorry, Keith.

I’m so sorry for everything.

~~~

Maybe it’s pointless to write all of this.

It’s not like you will ever read it.

I guess it’s just been pent-up for too long.

It’s been so long, Keith.

I don’t understand.

I suppose I might never truly understand.

~~~

You were one of the only people who knew about my scars.

You had the same ones.

You called them your “barcodes”, held our arms together and joked that we were matching.

I never knew how to respond to that.

Mine were only faint white marks, so old they were hardly visible against my skin. Yours were red and harsh, lining your thighs, your arms, your hips.

You never did let me check for fresh wounds. Now, I regret not pushing harder.

I used to constantly be so confused how you would always convince others to eat, even as you skipped meals for days at a time.

I didn’t get how you would go to any length to stop a friend from hurting themself, even as white scars lined your arms.

I never understood how you would be so persistent about not suppressing your emotions while pushing down an anxiety attack.

You were always brushing aside your own problems. You always seemed so figured out.

I had never realized.

~~~

One time Hunk tried to stop me from stimming and you called him ableist because I’m neurodivergent.

I was so confused at the time. I hadn’t told anyone I was autistic.

I texted you about it later. You brushed it off, saying that you had a kind of gaydar for neurodivergent people.

When someone’s closest friends are all ADHD and autistic, they begin to notice a few things.

I never guessed that other people would notice as well.

I have a new friend now. Their name is Sophie.

You would like them. You’re a lot alike.

They are the best friend I’ve had in a really, really long time. And probably the closest.

They’re a hybrid too. Part Olkari, part human.

But I know they’re not leaving me. Or at least any time soon.

~~~

I get angry about it sometimes. Did you really think we could ever forget about you?

Why didn’t you try harder? Why wouldn’t you fight back? Why couldn’t you have just fucking stayed?

The Blade was putting so many things into your head, Keith. Couldn’t you tell?

Knowledge or death. That’s the reason you aren’t standing before me anymore. That’s the reason I can’t hear your breathing in the room next door.

That’s the reason I relapsed last night.

You never had to leave us.

You never needed to sacrifice yourself.

It wasn’t the only option.

It won’t ever be.

~~~

I had a dream last night.

You were in it.

I didn’t want to wake up.

~~~

I haven’t been able to sleep recently.

Thoughts of you plague my mind.

It makes me feel sick, thinking about how you died. If Matt hadn’t told us… I don’t know what would have happened. We might have never noticed.

That terrifies me.

It terrifies me that you felt that the only way to stop the bomb was to explode your ship.

It terrifies me that we unknowingly egged you on, told you to do it. We congratulated you. Good job Keith! You did it!

It terrifies me that you died thinking we hated you. You died before we could apologize for the harsh looks thrown, for the angry words, for making you feel expendable.

But most of all?

It terrifies me that if no one had told us you were dead, we would never have realized on our own. We would still be going to parties, doing shows, fighting the Empire.

We would have assumed you thought you were too good for us, off on some Blade mission that didn’t really matter.

It’s the thoughts like those that really make me feel sick to my stomach.

Here’s to another sleepless night, I guess.

~~~

I almost threw away these letters.

But as soon as I tried to let them go, I started crying so hard I couldn’t convince myself to drop them.

I clung to them as if they were the only thing keeping me alive. Keeping you alive.

I suppose they are, in a way.

~~~

You came into my room once when neither of us could sleep.

I was playing the video game we got from the space mall, Kill Bot Phantasm 1. I didn’t notice you coming in. None of us ever did. We used to joke about putting a bell around your neck.

You saw my posters, walls covered with cryptids and podcasts. Mothman and the Loch Ness Monster and Welcome to Night Vale.

I don’t think I had ever seen you so excited.

We talked for hours about evidence and theories, finally able to talk cryptozoology to someone who understood and was willing to listen.

You asked to play the game with me. I was more than happy to play with you.

The next morning, Lance came into the room to find the two of us asleep, my head on your shoulder, the screen still on.

He teased me for weeks about that.

I think he was just jealous.

~~~

Something’s wrong with Shiro, Keith.

I can’t tell what’s different. You probably could have. But you were so excited to have your brother back… it blinded you.

I hate not knowing. I feel so stupid. Something’s clearly off.

Maybe he’s just grieving.

That’s more than just a possible answer, I suppose.

I wish you’d come back like Shiro did.

But I guess not all of us are so lucky.

~~~

I found Cards Against Humanity. It was in a small metal box in the corner. I don’t even remember bringing it into space.

It’s not like I could play by myself, but I sifted through the cards, looking for the ones we’d used that day.

I pulled them out, laying them on the floor.

I sat there for a long time, crying and staring at those stupid cards.

Guess I’ll be the one advocating for a team game night tonight.

~~~

I know these letters are pointless.

But they’re the only thing that’s left of you. Or at least the only thing that’s mine.

Lance took your jacket. He says it smells like you. He’ll sleep with it occasionally, head buried in its folds, his eyes red and puffy.

I guess I’ve been pretty selfish with these letters.

You would have wanted to know how the others were doing.

If I’m being honest, they’re not doing well. Your death hit us all hard, and I’m not even sure you realized.

You thought you were doing the right thing. You didn’t see any other way. Good job, Keith.

Shiro is staying up later and later, hacking away at the training bots like you used to do. His decisions have become more and more reckless, and truthfully, I don’t know how long we can keep up with it.

Lance barely sleeps either, but instead of training, he’s playing video games, or reading, or staring at the wall. Sometimes he refuses to even leave his room, and I keep catching glimpses of little crescent-shaped scars on his arms, like he was digging his nails into his skin. He does that a lot, when he thinks no one can hear him cry. When no one can see him bleed.

Hunk has been cooking. A lot. Normally I wouldn’t complain, but it’s getting worrisome. Cooking and baking have always been his outlet, a way for him to vent his emotions and turn them into food. Now, the castle is full of food. It’s like he physically can’t stop.

He cries a lot, too. I can hear through his door, and I think my heart breaks more with every sob.

Allura is a lot more quiet. Less demanding. I think she blames herself for your death, as if her accepting you sooner would have stopped you from ramming your ship into that stupid barrier.

And to be completely truthful… There are times when I’ve believed the same.

Coran has quieted, too. He keeps trying to act cheerful like he usually does, but every joke falls flat. I think he understands, but it hurts to see the downtrodden expression on his face every time he fails to make us smile. It’s as if he’s become more muted.

I'm not sure who else there is to talk about besides... well... Matt.

I think he might have taken your death the hardest out of everyone here. And that's saying something.

He hardly eats anymore. Barely sleeps. He's practically stopped talking, Keith. I don't know what to do.

You were one of his oldest friends, second only to Shiro. He blames himself for your death, both regret and survivor's guilt weigh heavy on him.

He was the one to watch you fly. He was the one to yell at you to stop. He was the one to see as you crashed, as the barrier went down.

He was the one to tell us about your death.

I think he loved you. He probably still does.

He's really hurting, Keith. We all are.

It's days like today that I doubt I'll be leaving my lab any time soon.

~~~

I was sitting in your room a few days ago when I found your knife hidden under your mattress. The one from your mother, from the Blade of Marmora.

I’m not sure I’ve ever missed you more.

~~~

We’re doing a mission with the Blade of Marmora today.

I have mixed feelings about the Blade, if I’m being honest. After all, it was the Blade who killed you. The Blade, with their stupid sayings and stupid mantras about “knowledge or death.” and “the mission is more important than the individual”.

It’s not. It never is.

The individual is always more important. Especially when it was you. When it wasn’t the only way.

I’m scared, Keith. I’m really scared.

I can’t lose anyone else. I can’t lose anyone to another fucking mission.

Not again.

~~~

I think I might have to stop these letters soon.

I suppose I ran out of things to say to you.

I never thought that would happen.

But I guess it’s as good a time as any to finally let you go.

Goodbye, Keith.

I love you. I will miss you for as long as I live.

Your best friend forever and ever,

Pidge

~~~

#find me on ao3!#The_Tiger_King #first time posting fanfic on tumblr #fanfiction #voltron #vld #im putting them through it #voltron legendary defender #keith kogane #klance #autistic keith #autistic pidge #pidge holt

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helliontherapscallion · 4 years ago

Text

Adrenaline Junkie

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Ages (oldest to youngest):

Philza- 32

Technoblade- 17

Wilbur- 17

(Y/N)- 16

Tommy- 14

Pairing: platonic!sbi x winged!sibling!reader

Warnings: near death experiences, mentions of depression, OOC sbi (this is my first time writing about them)

Summary: Philza finds out about your little “habit”

Word count: 1,962

You grinned as you flew through the air with your feathers glinting in the low sunlight. You absolutely loved the feeling of freedom you got whenever you flew. It always gave you a sense of calm when you needed a break from your family. You loved them of course, but you needed a break once and a while; you often felt drained if you didn’t take some time to yourself. The cold air rushed past you as you continued to flap your wings to keep you in the air.

You could not see the ground below you as you soared higher into the clouds, weaving in and out of them. Flying higher, you steadied yourself to look at the sunset. The mixture of pinks, oranges, and yellows blended together perfectly. You always loved the sunset, it was one of the only consistent things in your life. You wished that you could stay hovering hundreds of feet above the ground, but mobs were going to be spawning soon. The last time you stayed out past sunset you had almost gotten killed by a skeleton. Your dad had given you quite the lecture after he made sure that you were alright. You still had the scars on your arms from when it tried to shoot you out of the air.

You angled yourself so you were upside down, put your arms tight to your sides, and extended your wings fully behind you. You dove closer and closer to the earth, quickly picking up speed. The wind whipped around you as you gained velocity, getting closer and closer to the ground by the millisecond. At the last second, you fully extended your wings and drastically slowed your descent to the ground. The extra velocity you had made you soar up once again before you regained control and landed safely on the ground. The adrenaline that the skydive gave you was the most exhilarating feeling you’ve ever felt, and you were always craving it. Your dad didn’t find it as fun or exhilarating as you did.

“(Y/N) (M/N) MINECRAFT.”

Your father’s voice boomed from behind you. You could tell that he was in a lecturing mood without even having to look at him. He grabbed your arm and spun you around. Grabbing your other arm, he looked you up and down with worried blue eyes. After seeing that you were alright, his gaze hardened and he took a deep breath.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?”

He rattled on and on about how you could’ve killed yourself, but quite frankly you didn’t care if you died or got hurt. In your opinion, the adrenaline you got was worth it. You had three lives you could spend, and if you did die, you wanted to go out with a bang all three times. What could you say? You were an adrenaline junkie through and through.

He started to drag you inside the house mid lecture. Swinging open the door, he pulled you towards the kitchen, where the scent of fresh mushroom stew wafted from the pot on the stove. Your brothers looked at you each with their own different reactions. Techno looked as stoic as ever, Wilbur eyed you with slight disapproval, and Tommy looked at you with awe and excitement. They must’ve seen your little trick through the window.

“(Y/N) THAT WAS POGGERS! YOU WERE SUCH A BADA-”

Tommy’s excited rant was cut short as he saw the stern look on Philza’s face. After a few moments of hesitation, your brothers were making small talk with each other with Philza occasionally chiming in. Poking idly at your food, you contemplated how you should go about apologizing to your dad.

You supposed that the best route you could go was telling him that you wouldn’t do that again, but you knew you would do it again. That was the biggest adrenaline rush you’ve ever gotten and you were already craving it again. You couldn’t lie to your dad, your wings always gave you away by twitching uncomfortably whenever you lied. On the other hand, telling him that you felt empty when you didn’t have adrenaline coursing through your veins was not an option. He already has enough to worry about with working to provide for four teenagers. Deciding that your best bet was to lie to him and hope for the best, you zoned back into the conversation around you. Tommy was ranting about how he had broken his favorite sword dueling Techno.

“-do you have any idea how long it took me to find that enchantment, Techno?”

Techno huffed slightly in amusement. “Actually I do because I helped you find that enchantment. We found it in the village together, remember?”

“Tommy,” Philza said tiredly, “we can get you another enchanted sword. Techno, you need to be more gentle with your little brother. You have to remember he’s three years younger than you, so he has less experience in dueling.”

Tommy grumbled to himself, busying himself with shoveling food in his mouth. Wilbur glanced at him with disgust.

“Do you have to eat like that, Tommy? It’s disgusting.”

“Well, Wilbur, it’s not my fault I’m hungry.”

“You’re eating like we don’t feed you.”

You usually enjoyed it whenever your siblings argue back and forth like this, but lately it didn’t make you feel anything. You didn’t feel much anymore if you weren’t pulling off impulsive stunts. Of course, you hid it from your family and acted like you did before. It was relatively easy since you were naturally a quiet person. You thought you were doing a great job at it, you pride yourself on your acting skills.

Dinner went by fast without anything notable happening. Since it was your night to clean up, you got to work after everyone parted ways for the night. You stacked the dishes left on the dinner table and got to work washing them. Luckily, since you lived with three teenage boys, you never had to deal with leftovers. You subconsciously stretched and twitched your wings, feeling restless without feeling the wind moving through your feathers. After you got done with putting the dishes away, you took a deep breath and set out on your search for Philza.

Walking into the living room, you saw Techno sitting near the fireplace reading one of his mythology books. “Hey, Tech. Do you know where Dad is? I need to talk to him.”

Without looking up from his book, he responded in his usual monotone voice. “Yeah, he’s up in his room. I think he’s going to bed early.” He paused for a second before looking up at you with sincerity. “You know, he was terrified when he saw you earlier. He thought that you weren’t gonna stop yourself in time. Hell, we all thought you were gonna die.”

That made you feel guilty. He already had to deal with providing and raising you four and he didn’t need anything else to worry about. You felt your wings droop slightly as you sighed.

“...Thanks, T. G’night, love you.”

You started to speed walk to Philza’s room without giving him time to respond. You needed to apologize to him and fast. Out of all your siblings, you were always the one to hate conflict and would always apologize first whenever you got into a disagreement with anyone. You were always the pacifist.

Walking past Tommy in the hallway, he tried to stop you to talk to you, but you ignored him with a dismissive wave of your wing. You heard him mumbling to himself as he started to walk down the stairs, probably to challenge Techno to a rematch. You nervously fluttered your wings, feathers occasionally brushing against the walls and causing you to shiver slightly at the small touch. Your hands were shaking slightly as you took a steadying deep breath and knocked on Philza’s door. Hearing his tired “come in”, you slowly opened his door. He situated himself so that he was sitting on the edge of his bed and gestured for you to sit next to him.

“Hey, Dad. I-I just wanted to say sorry for worrying you earlier. If I knew that it would stress you out, I wouldn’t have done it.” You sat next to him.

He sighed as he wrapped an arm across your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “I don’t care if it stressed me out. You could’ve gotten killed from a fall at that height. You could have lost a life. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you didn’t open your wings in time.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Then why’d you do it if you knew that you could’ve gotten yourself killed? I just want to understand why you would pull a stunt like that, I’d never expect you out of all of your siblings to do something so dangerous.”

You took a deep breath as you contemplated your next words. You really wanted to tell him about how you felt empty without putting yourself in danger. You wanted to tell him that you didn’t feel like yourself anymore. Unconsciously, your wings started to twitch and pull themselves closer to your body.

You jumped when you felt something else wrap around you. You looked back and saw black feathers. Looking back up at your father, he looked at you with a concerned expression.

“Take a deep breath, you’re shaking hun.”

You looked down at your hands and to your surprise, they were shaking. You took a few deep breaths and clasped your hands together tightly while Philza rubbed comforting circles on your back.

“...It’s just that, I haven’t been feeling like myself lately, if that makes any sense. It’s like I can’t feel anything anymore without doing stupid things that could get me killed. It wasn’t the first time I’ve dived like that. One time I lost control and almost flew into lava-filled ravine.”

“...How long have you felt like this?”

“A few months now.”

Philza felt his heart break, how did he not notice that you were different for months? You could’ve gotten yourself hurt or permanently maimed yourself and it would’ve been his fault because he didn’t notice your mood shift.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t notice sooner.”

“It’s not your fault, Dad. I didn’t tell you anything was wrong. Please don’t blame yourself.”

“We can help you find something that’ll help you. Something less dangerous.”

“We?”

“Your brothers and I. They’ve been listening this entire time, weren’t you, boys?”

You heard shuffling and muffled voices arguing with each other before the door opened to reveal your sheepish brothers. Wordlessly, they all filed into the room. Tommy grabbed your shoulders and yanked you into a tight hug. You felt Wilbur hug your other side before he pulled Techno into the group hug also. You felt feathers tickle your cheek as Philza joined, wrapping his giant wings around you all. The family hasn’t had a group hug since you all started to hit your teenage years. For the first time in a while, you felt happy without risking your life.

After that night, you were right in your assumption that you’d be grounded (literally and metaphorically) from flying for a while while your family worked hard to find something safe that gave you a distraction. Soon, Wilbur found a book about the intricacies of redstone working and you were hooked. Sure, your family was rambunctious and a strange group, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

#sbi x reader #winged reader #sibling reader #philza x reader #technoblade x reader #wilbur soot x reader #tommyinnit x reader #tw: near death #tw: depression #tw: swearing

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