#& just the bad faith element of it all...

[serpentface]

This was going to be a panel of a little comic but I got too invested in drawing minute background details so, here.

[lynxalon]

i've seen a fair bit of... pessimism about dorym lately, esp with the ep107, for example wondering if dorian's opposing views on the gods making orym fall out of love, and i have to say. i very highly doubt it, ur fr talking about the man who has held on to will for so long, holding onto will's family and affectionately calling this *his* family too because that didn't stop when will died. i dont think falling out of love is an option or even a thought to orym.

that said, we know that orym has contingencies for if anyone in bells hells crosses the line into being a version of themselves they would despise, for anyone who jeopardizes their mission. his mission. i think, for the first time since knowing dorian, orym finally has a contingency for him. the longer dorian is back, the more orym sees how scarred he is by what's happened (understandable so) and knows that dorian is with bells hells all the way. but if he isn't...

[vaguely-concerned]

I don't know what I love more, the fact that as rook you can make a statement in NO uncertain terms that you are NOT responsible one way or the other for the theological implications of the shit you're discovering in the 'regrets of the dread wolf' memories. not my jurisdiction. quite simply none of my business. not my chantry circus not my chantry monkeys. irrelevant to the matter at hand here we'll kill that god if we get to him he can get in line. or if the best thing about it is seeing the lone little 'lucanis approves' that pops up right after choosing it. corvid with a knife about to commit deicide keeping it real and sensibly, pragmatically, wilfully agnostic with me here in this magical lighthouse today

[honourablepranksinatra]

Maple Leafs discourse on their team social medias makes me lose brain cells because wdym they're first in their division and coming off a 5 game win streak & people are commenting that the top players are only in it for the money and have no drive, that particular players are useless and need to be traded asap, that they're a garbage team, that they'll never make it past the first round just because they lost one game.

Apparently because they are being payed handsomely the players must be mindless automatons who perform perfectly every night. It drives me absolutely nuts how quickly alleged fans will completely turn on their own team.

[sysig]

Pst (Lee skin by homie, with some edits by me)

[kyliafanfiction]

Boiled down to an overly reductive binary, there's really two approaches people can take to 'spicy toxic problematicness' for a character.

Either it's the starting point for the character, or it's the ending point for the character.

That is, for some people, the real fun is in detangling a fucked up mess of a character and bringing them to some level of... if not 'okay', then at least 'more okay' compared to before. It's not about turning them into a fluffy harmless woobie that barely resembles themselves, all the rough edges filed off, but it definitely does ultimately involve them ending up somewhere more functional than they began.

For others, the toxicity is the goal, the draw, the end game. They want the characters to get... well, worse implies a moral judgement that doesn't always apply, but to borrow a phrase I heard someone use a few weeks ago, they probably want to accelerate a character's fucked-upness. That end point may involve them still being better off in terms of their lived daily reality, maybe even involve them hurting less people, or even helping people, but they're more fucked up than they were before, even if in different ways.

Obviously, this is, as I said, reductive, but separating out the two trendlines when it comes to fandoms for the kinds of characters or ships that attract this kind of binary can be hard, and can result in intrafannish issues, because people may tend to see one as the only acceptable approach, or at least the only form of approach that involves real appreciation for the character.

But neither one is solely valid, even insofar as this binary really holds water in lived reality.

Hard to keep in mind sometimes.

[tevinter]

Veilguard fails to realise that for those who believe, faith is stronger than anything, even facts.

Right in the beginning of Veilguard all the Dalish/veil jumpers are so nonchalant and against their gods returning, as if they were convinced offscreen that their whole faith was based on a lie (even though they all still wear vallaslin) and their gods were Evil™. This, again, fails to consider that the vast majority of the Dalish would either not believe or not care because it's their religion, their faith.

Morally ambiguous gods exist in real life religions too and it didn't stop people from believing in them. Divine morality transcends mortal understanding, so their actions are always rightful. This also leads to the concept of a 'god-fearing' person - even the term used (θεοσεβής) can mean both respect and fear. Mortals are humbled by the gods' power and greatness, and willfully submit to their divine authority.

You needn't go further than the goddamn Bible itself to see countless examples of unethical things that God did/supported including legitimization of slavery and punishment (Exodus 21:20-21 “Anyone who beats their male or female slave with a rod must be punished if the slave dies as a direct result, but they are not to be punished if the slave recovers after a day or two, since the slave is their property." is one unhinged example), cannibalism, many kinds of violence, war, and of course, genocide, one of which was literally the deliberate destruction of nearly all humanity and living creatures on earth. The god of the most widely practiced religion in the world for millenia. Ask a devout Christian if they would stop believing in God just because 'um actually he is bad'.

Mystery is also a great aspect of religion, which also makes it an excellent worldbuilding element for writers. Mystery adds to the immersion because just like the characters, we don’t know everything except the beliefs and unanswered questions. And we're not supposed to, because this is how religion works in real life, where faith is about belief rather than what’s fully understood. It makes the story feel more real and engaging. Professional writers - of a AAA title no less - should know this.

Religion was one of the greatest themes in all previous games, especially Andrastianism and the Elven pantheon. Reducing it all to 'the Evanuris did it' is disappointing to say the least, and even if it was the truth that only the writers knew, they should have kept it that way, or at least some of the mystery. It adds immersion, drama, nuance, it encourages thought and discussion. For all Veilguard failed in the 'show, don't tell' rule, in this case this is too much exposure, and not even done in a good way. ''Religion is fake, so now everyone's atheist or unfazed. Oh, except for one (1) person who is mildly upset'' is not how faith works, especially in a setting so religious as Thedas.

[hattersrabbit]

SEE NO EVIL

batfamily x clairvoyant reader | sfw

CW! gn reader, hurt comfort, supernatural elements, good dad Bruce wayne supremacy, descriptions of crime scenes, descriptions of murder and injury, religious themes (not to harm or in bad faith), mental health issues, reader is vigilante (my oc's alias is used), john constantine is also there

Summary! You're family isn't all that believeable to the paranormal. Unfortunately, it's time that they come to terms that you can see it all, and it's really starting affect you in a bad way.

✎ᝰ. I was rewatching the conjuring movies since the 4th ones trailer is out and I got inspired so here 🫵 for you

part 2 (wip)

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

It was easy for your strange powers to go unnoticed.

Also it helped you hadn't told anyone that you could see ghosts, or demons in visions. Seeing what could possibly happen in the past and what could possibly happen in the future.

You're family didn't believe in the paranormal despite the fact Gotham working with magic users.

In fact Gotham was haunted; you saw everything and it was horrifying.

Case and point; like when you were dressed as your vigilante person you were simply patrolling your route with Spoiler. What made it hard was the fact that you could see the ghost of a man at the edge of the buildings top.

A dangling foot and staring at you with those ghostly eyes. Taking every bit of yourself to stay calm. Not alert Spoiler that you were seeing something she couldn't.

It wouldn't turn away and you couldn't ignore it. You've been seeing these spirits for so long. You don't know if you can even handle this anymore.

"Nymph? Are you okay?"

"Huh!?" You jumped. Spoiler's eyes full of slight worry and confusion. "Oh I'm okay."

"Alright. Looks like you just saw a ghost." She dismissed you and went back to surveying your surroundings.

Oh how right she was.

Perhaps you should tell Bruce that his father was over his shoulder. Maybe you should by seeing how proud he was. His mother was bit of the way looking on with a smile.

A pleasant memory.

The two looked at you. Couldn't help but freeze up at those eyes of theirs. So much like Bruce's ice blue eyes. They were smiling at you with pride.

A whisper into your ear, "Take care of yourself, dear."

Every now and then you'd see them. Always a break from the scary figures you regularly saw in Gotham. Or the various demons that hung over apartments and houses.

And people.

Maybe the entities on your father's shoulder were sad, or angry? They came from all over. Some sobbing and some threatening for his very demise.

You didn't like such things.

Jason was the worst. The spirits and darkness that surrounded him was worrisome. For the longest time you watched over him despite being younger.

Always confused by it but he let it slide. You two were closer than most, but he didn't know that you did it to check on the ghosts.

They were horrifying.

Some had influence over emotions.

When Bruce and Jason would argue you could see them snickering. Voices loud in your ears. Forever to hear the unbearable. No one else heard or sense what was so dangerous.

The same went for Dick and Bruce. It hurt to see it happen.

Bruce always looked so sad after.

Alfred had questioned why there was rosary around your neck. One on your wall above your bed.

None of them really believed in such things, or magic despite the involvement in it. You knew the supernatural had its claw around you all.

The manor walked with monsters. They haunted everyone.

You dismissed it.

Alfred gave you a look but left it alone. You didn't want to explain any more than you needed. You preferred not having to describe what you were feeling.

Especially worse when even touching objects you could see and feel everything. When murders would occur, and you and Tim would find evidence you'd be the one to collect it all.

You two, along with Bruce were smart. While those two used their detective brain to solve it you could see it all. The pain and horrors of what was experienced. All the anger that was dealt to the dead person on the ground.

Relatively the killer would be found.

They would praise you.

The monsters simply glared.

The phantoms that hung over your father made you anxious. Always whispering for his death to become truth, but even so he survived.

The phantoms would torment you.

You wondered when the bruises started appearing on your skin. Wondered when your energy was just suddenly being sucked out of you.

Even one time you woke up with a gash in your leg. It wasn't hard for your family to notice the injury.

"How'd you get that, miss?" Alfred asked. His brows locked up suspiciously. You simply said you must have gotten it and hadn't noticed it.

He didn't believe you.

Bruce was worried. The man had been hovering more than ever. Recently during patrol you were patrolling with him and Damian more. Steph and Tim seemed quite upset about it but they understood.

You're recent behavior had been noticed.

Leslie did her best, but even so nothing could be done. You were simply tired. Tired of the monsters that tormented your sight and sleep.

Bless you when John Constantine came to visit. Exorcism was preformed on a presumably possessed man. The bats were less impressed, but they left it alone.

Again, you'd think they used to magic but bats were they were human. Even if they worked with meta humans, gods, and aliens.

You on the other hand found semblance with him.

On this recent case, a man, presumably possessed was going around killing people.

"Possessed? Killing people."

"Wasn't your boy under controll of the Lazarus Pit?"

Magic was a sore spot for Jason. The boy in this case rolled his eyes. "It was torturous to be under something else's control. We need to get it the fuck out of here."

You could attest to that. Sometimes Jason would go through rough patches and you'd calm him down. In the process you saw all the pain and you hated it.

The attempts on Tim and Bruce's lives were traumatic for you. You couldn't deny your image of Jason changed after that even if not of the Lazarus Pit's control. You were able to hide it relatively well.

Jason was good. You trusted him as he did you.

You didn't know how he'd react to your gift. That fact that you saw everything. No doubt he'd be shaken by that fact. Probably then pushing you away, because that seems to be everyone's method in this family.

Blood covered the floor. Bruce and Tim going over the crime scene. The rest of your siblings off trying different leads. You stood next to Constantine.

The blonde man surveyed the room closely. Looking for any signs of demonic or a evil spirit possession. His eyes had recognition as he looked around.

You wouldn't have left if it hadn't been for the pale man who was dirty and bloody. A ghost of another. His figure stalking towards you. John didn't seem to notice him, or maybe he did. Paying no mind to the ghost of a victim.

His ghostly figure whispering to you,

"He made me do it."

You didn't answer. Only stared wide eyed. Fear in your bones.

"He's gonna do it again...Stop him-"

His mouth opened. Blood came rushing out like a river. Trembling body. Almost like a reactment a knife seemed to appear. A stab to the heart.

Without warning you fled. Bruce and Tim's voices echoing. You couldn't find a care in the world to say why. It was all too much. Holding your head and body it was all too much.

Fear overcoming your body.

The stress was too much.

"Hey kiddo." John walking up to you with his hands in his pockets. "Some scene made?" His brow went up when seeing your face.

Bags, and less color in your complexion. "Hey what's wrong?" You didn't answer. Only collapsing onto the dirty hallways floor. Hugging your self when once again faced with another phantom.

"Do you see her?" You asked. A trembling voice echoing. Almost too quiet for John to hear. The woman being a woman with a slit neck. Ghostly eyes and bloody hands. "She killed her children." Her wicked smile confirmed it.

John seemed stunned. "You can see...ghosts?"

"All of them." You removed your glove and rolled up your suits sleeve. A giant bruise could be seen. Even going so far as to remove your boot to reveal a bandaged leg. "They won't leave me alone." Tears finally falling down your face.

"Oh, Kid. I'm sorry." He got down his knees. His arms snaking around you after you came a gentle nod. "They won't leave you alone? Like you can see them everywhere?"

"Even in my dreams." You shook your head. "I can't go to sleep normally. Everytime I wake up i have bruises or a sudden gash. It won't stop. Everyone's worried about me, and sooner or later I suspect I'll be dead." A sob finally fell from your lips.

"I know. It can be hard. Your attracting them, somehow, perhaps because of Bats. Or simply your that susceptible to you." He turned to look at you fully. "Some have attached themselves to you."

"Really?"

"Their weakening you. I'm assuming you see other than bad spirits, yes?"

"Yes. Sometimes I see B's parents. They always tell me to take care of myself."

"I can get Zatanna and we'll take care of it. Just hold out for longer while." John hugged you tightly. "Trust me, Kid. I know it's hard to see things that others can't."

You sniffled. "Okay, thank you." You hugged him back. You pretended that the breathing down your neck wasn't from a murderer; a man who killed several women.

They told you. For the sake of tormenting you.

After all the visions were just as terrifying.

They weren't done with you this night either. Having gotten home and everyone headed for bed (except Duke since he was day shift), and slept.

You settled into your bed. Eyes feeling heavy due to not getting the right amount of sleep. The visions of the future haunted you. Always so horrible. Your siblings and father getting hurt in ways you never wished for.

Your bed dipped and you realized it was Ace. Softly smiling the dog licked you hand as you petted him. Recently he had been coming to your bed.

Noted animals always seemed to see things humans weren't able. Never have you been so grateful for Ace. As a thank you Ace was awarded with kisses atop his forehead.

Finally settling down in your bed. Trying to get comfortable, and hopefully your dreams would be terrifying.

You were wrong.

The sight of the man you were after. A man wrapped in chains. White eyes and bleeding blood. Sobbing for it to stop.

Make it stop.

The ghostly sight of a demon reigned above. Black eyes. Mocking figure you treasured close to your heart.

It was a dream. This was all too much for you. Becoming lucid it became so much worse. The demon in your face. A hand around you neck.

Thorns pricking in your skin. Body on fire as you garbled out noises. Pleas for it all the stop. You could die in your sleep.

You'll die.

Gotham will be destroyed.

I'll never leave you alone.

You'll never escape us.

You screamed loudly. Your voice feeling like an echo and suddenly you were falling.

Ace was barking when you opened your eyes to find a demoic creature looking down at you. Blood and dirt on its body. A body of a human.

Giggling. It roared and you screamed. Thrashing as it attacked your. A blood curdling scream that mixed with Ace's barks.

"DAD!"

Like a screech you screamed for Bruce. The monster on you and tearing at your skin. Bruises no doubt forming on you as you rolled off the bed. Back hitting the wood hard, and pain rushed up your body.

Bloody injuries bleeding into the wood. Covering your skin. It wouldn't leave and for some reason it was attacking you.

Why? Why you?

Ace's barks never let up.

Even as the door slammed opened to reveal Bruce looking on with a shakened expression. He watched you moving on the floor like it was attacking you.

When had it left?

Ace having lept off the bed he joined you on the floor. Desperately trying to get you to stop hurting yourself even more. All the movement making your injuries worse.

"[ ]! Baby! Sweetheart it's okay!" He grabbed you into his body. You immediately clung to him, stopping your thrashing around. Ace's body not leaving you alone. Crying and sobbing from fear and pain.

"What happened?!" His voice was shaking. Eyes taking in the various bruises over your body. The blood hot on his nose and seeing blood through your night shirt. Three claw marks when he pushed up the damn thing.

"Make it stop- make them stop, dad!" Despite it hurting your arms you clung to Bruce. The cuts in your arms rubbing together as you sobbed. "They won't go away-!" You're voice was strangled as you sobbed.

"I keep seeing them- I can't sleep! I can't-" you couldn't speak any longer. Your chest was hurting too. No doubt tons of blood on your chest from scars.

Blood coated Bruce's silk pajamas.

You're siblings stood out the door with wide eyes.

Dick covering his mouth with teary eyes.

Jason's eyes were filled with unfamiliar fear.

Tim was bewildered.

Damian was beside himself. What the hell was he looking at?

Cassandra wanted to go to you.

Stephanie held Cass back. Horror and tears in her eyes.

Duke couldn't believe his eyes. His own anxiety shot up the roof.

Alfred came rushing in with a first aid kit. The old man shakened up, which was a rare sight. Far too disturbing for Bruce and the Kids.

Along, Alfred the Cat and Titus came rushing in. The animals joining Ace in crowding you with worry.

Bruce was whispering gentle nothings into your ears. He didn't know where to comfort you. Everywhere was injured. Your chest and back. Arms and legs. Neck and maybe even your head.

"Whats going on?" It was a simple question.

You stilled. Eyes wide.

Like you saw a ghost. "They won't go away. I saw him, the one John is looking for. He attacked me. All of them." You looked behind Bruce. He noted it.

"The phantoms want you dead, Dad." You turned to Jason. "They want you back in the grave." Your older brother was shakened by that news.

"Make them go away. Call Zatanna and John...I don't want to die...they'll kill me." You pleaded.

You were inconsolable. The family didn't know what to do. It was hard to cover your injuries as you refused to leave Bruce's side. You couldn't because you'd be alone.

Ace was there. But it wasn't enough.

You didn't want to be alone. You're family could speak to you, despite not being able to see it all. To see the horror of what you saw.

The living room was taken over. Pillows and blankets piled upon each other. A movie blaring on the TV.

A big space for you and house animals in the middle. Damian was quite appalled to see that Titus was refusing to leave you. Never seen him so close to someone else other than him.

The same could be said for Ace.

Despite that you refused to leave Bruce's arms. You're father didn't protest and your siblings let it happened.

You were so scared. They could see it clear as day.

A call was made by Jason quick to John. His voice threatening the warlock to come quickly tomorrow or else he'd have a bullet in the groin.

Late-night cookies prepared by Alfred. You were smothered in blankets and held by Bruce. You refused to let go.

The warmth of your siblings also refused to leave. Protectiveness swallowing them when you told them all you've seen. What you've seen all your life.

The ghosts of demons and spirits.

Bruce was crying when you admitted you could see his parents. Even saying you could feel Martha's ghostly motherly touch on you. A sad expression on her as she kissed you better.

Thomas next to Bruce. His expression hard as he looked at the injuries you recieved.

The supernatural was real and you could see it. All of it and it tormented you. A gift, sure, but you saw evil. It wouldn't leave you alone, and many attached itself to you.

"I promise baby it'll be okay." Bruce whispered to you. A kiss to your forehead just as Damian's arms wrapped slightly more tighter around you. You winced but you didn't mind.

"Sleep. We'll be here if something happens to you."

You were scared. Heavy eyelids threatening to close. Bruce's kissed the side of your temple. "It's alright."

You believed in your father, and all your siblings who were close. Closer than normal. Wanting to make sure you were never harmed again.

With that belief in your mind you slept.

Feeling content, even if the demon was in the corner.

A source of darkness can never defeat love.

And you had plenty of it.

[hana-no-seiiki]

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.”

“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

[pawberri]

The key problem with "proship vs anti" discourse is that the most extreme versions of each side, the ones who actually bother to identify with these labels, accepted each others worst takes as arguments they had to debate. "Fiction =/= reality" is, in practice, an absurdly reductionist, anti-intellectual, thought-terminating-cliche that dictates we can learn nothing about a person via art and that their fiction reflects no political or moral messaging worthy of critique. In response to this, the "puriteens" who are too young to possibly hope to articulate their discomfort, to untangle their position from what is often real trauma experienced online, simply argue "yes, fiction influences and reflects reality in a 1 to 1 capacity." They, and people who want to use the groundwork they laid to make bad-faith callouts, make bad arguments about how the action of engaging in problematic fiction is on equal ground to real life abuse, or is a clear indicator of interest in real life abuse. Both of these arguments are terrible, but each side seems to radicalize the other further and further into their own brands of anti-intellectual reactionary belief. "Proshippers" become libertarian absolutists about free speech and view all transgression as righteous and alternative and therefore leftist. They gain a reactionary nostalgia for the past, desiring a time when people didn't seem to care about the implications of art. "Antis" become authoritarian and hypervigilant for signs of moral decay, at their worst, willing to align themselves with government bodies that offer carceral solutions to the debate. They are willing to use harassment as a tool of punishment, which then leads to false accusations and a fear of openness that puts people at risk of being triggered via obfuscation. (That said, proshippers also take part in plenty of harassment.)

I will say that I believe both of these movements are equally sensitive to co-opting by right-wing forces. We see the authoritarian tendencies of anti culture in harassment campaigns and even the way Republican law makers co-opt "grooming." The proship/fic crowd has such extreme nostalgia for the past that I often see people align themselves with the cultures of 4chan or other happily right-wing websites. They so heavily reject the idea that a drawn sexual depiction of a child could reflect any desire that they are disinterested in analyzing what the motivation behind the depiction is. i.e If we track the history of lolicon in Japan we do find that is, yes, countercultural, but that counter culture is right wing, very misogynistic, and defensive of patriarchial Japanese culture as it is and was including its culture around rape and abuse. Plenty of fictional content works as radicalization material, and radicalization material needs to be ambiguous. There is a valid reason to be hesitant to trust people who consume this content, even if I do not believe most of them will ever be dangerous towards children. The mere presence of sexuality is not enough to make a movement left wing. This kind of thing can again be seen in right-wing libertarian movements in the US. (And even leftist movements can be bigoted and even "pro-pedophilia" or otherwise disinterested in social reform around abuse.)

Is all content with elements of age-play this way? No. But to me, that is why kink media deserves to be treated as art and analyzed, critiqued, treated seriously. It doesn't have to do anything to anyone to be worthy of a moral critique. Said moral critique just doesn't warrant harassment and cruelty and reactionary exaggerations of the person consuming said content.

Anyway, what's my point in saying all this? I don't know. I'm just begging you to tag your God damn content with specific tags instead of random and nebulous shit like "dead dove" or "dark content", and also begging you to stop harassing people who do tag their content so I don't have to guess what "dead dove" and "dark content" mean. No one will erase incest kink fics or people who feel sickened by the idea of them off this earth because we aren't god, but we could at least all be responsible about tagging, flagging, and age-gating our stuff.

[donvampiro]

Hiii!! I wanted to ask if you could please do some more “Jealous?” headcannons (the one with Zoro, Sanji and Nami) with Sabo, Marco and Law?

Thank you so much!!!

hello, Anon!!

hope you're doing well. here are the hc you asked for! i'm so sorry for the super long wait, ngl mental health issues and work have made the last few years a very difficult time. in any case, i hope these hc will meet your expectations 🥺 have a nice day/night! 💕💕

@pure-kirarin get ur sabotonin

part 1! (Nami, Sanji, Zoro) -> here

MASTERLIST - Welcome

***

'Jealous?' pt.2

(jealous/protective) Sabo, Marco & Law x gn!reader

Sabo

‘Don’t worry (y/n), i’m not a jealous man; i mean, what comes first is your individual freedom. me and my feelings don’t have to interfere in your life.’

HAHAHAHAHA bro. like. for real. – our sweet Sabo is the jealous type. BUT somehow he’s like Zoro, he just can’t help, despite his ‘motto’ which would rest upon giving you space, trusting you because you’re an adult capable of assuming your actions, your behavior and its consequences. Sabo wants you to feel, to be free. etc etc... but that doesn’t prevent him from being jealous. and he knows it lol

he’ll rather be the type to strongly repress his jealousy though. Because our revolutionary with a top hat knows that he too has many social interactions that could make you jealous, and he doesn’t want to make your relationship unfair by preventing you from doing the same. He knows he has no right to monitor your life or anything similar.

Sabo bottling up his jealousy would result in very specific (and rather either cute...or scary. no in-between) facial expressions as well as gestures, betraying his state.

With an upset expression, Sabo watches you talk to this person you just met, and he’s surprised that you’re able to ignore him like that, like, so easily – unless it’s his own imagination? no, it’s not, right? but... you can’t forget him so quickly, right? … right? He watches you chat, trying to keep the courteous smile he likes to display; while giving your interlocutor a severe (to say the least) sidelong look. but now… now, it’s getting too long for him. He moves away a little to slump on the nearest seat, never taking his eyes off you. he frowns slightly and, pouty as he drums his fingers in frustration, he broods over this jealousy that he cannot let be exposed, at the risk of betraying this promise of fairness he made. to compensate, his mind blurts out his bad faith.

‘how the hell can (y/n) find this person interesting? Everything they say is so very commonplace…’

Sabo hates when he’s like this. But he also hates your interlocutor, who makes (him) a definitely (very) bad impression. There’s something wrong with this person. But the blond tries to be reasonable, yes, no doubt that his jealousy distorts his judgment. If you talk to this individual, it's probably because they’re not as horrible as he thinks, right?... yeah, yeah. Pfuh. bitter, Sabo wouldn't go so far as to call this person ‘interesting’ either.

he has so little free time, and when he can spend time with you, you choose someone else. Now looking more sad than angry, Sabo narrows his eyes, then looks up again at that damn disruptive element you’re talking to.

even if he’s the type to know how to keep his cool, Sabo can be quite impulsive when it comes to his s/o. Thus, if at some point he’s really fed up, i don’t think he’d leave, i rather think he could come back to you and your interlocutor quite abruptly, to bring you closer to him, so that you stop ignoring him.

he takes big, determined steps, walking straight towards you and already knowing that he won’t tolerate any concessions. he's here to be with you, and wouldn't let anyone hinder his goals, obstruct his way, or whatever. Sabo’s gait speaks louder than all the explanations existing, and he quickly takes back his place by your side, not failing to give the same acerbic look at whoever seems to present themselves as a rival.

“Who do you think you are for y/n?”, Sabo’s gaze shouts. His own morality asks the same question, but to himself. “Who do i think i am to act this way?”. Sabo will probably hate himself, later, for having stepped in, but for now, he doesn’t care.

if the person touches you; lmao it's over. But there’s an even worse thing, it’s this expression of discomfort which gradually takes place on your face, signaling to the blond that you’re not necessarily completely okay facing this interlocutor starting to get physically comfortable with you. everything connects in Sabo's mind; and he understands that he has probably been blinded by his jealousy. weren't you just, so far, being polite to the person, and not ignoring your favorite revolutionary?

a miffed sigh crosses the barrier of Sabo's lips, who not only regrets his jealousy which, as always, carries him away, in countries where all the judgements are rather wrong;... but he also regrets this impoliteness of your interlocutor – which he is determined to put an end to.

Sabo cocks an accusing eyebrow as he stares with irritation at this decidedly annoying person. He readjusts his gloves, before gently placing his hand on their chest, exerting a slight pressure so as to push this individual away from you.

‘Can’t you see that you make (y/n) uncomfortable? We’d have hoped for a little more insight from you. Anyway… I strongly advise you to leave, before I get angry.’

the blond has moved forward a little, placing himself in front of you without hiding you completely, his first desire remaining to make sure that you enjoy your individual freedom; as he often tells you. to not hinder your movements. to let you express yourself. admittedly. but it should always be so. these are basic freedoms, and Sabo will never let anyone get too comfortable with you at first sight, as if they were getting the upper hand over you by imposing that inappropriate touch… right?

it’s hard to stand up to the piercing gaze of the revolutionary, it contains both the expression of this jealousy repressed until then, but also all the love he has for you, the strength of his convictions, including that of protecting you. to be the gentleman you need, or at least to be there for you. that’s all. that’s good.

Guilt slowly rises though, and Sabo’s a bit annoyed with himself about feeling this kind of latent satisfaction in getting this person out of your way. But it seemed like the best solution, judging by the overall situation and the discomfort it was causing you. Visibly, well-advised is the person, because they don’t really insist, facing the revolutionary with a top hat. They’re not interested in an argument, shrugging as they walk away. Sabo turns to you, and you both look confused. The little moment of guilty satisfaction that had been Sabo's (namely, when he chased away that annoying interlocutor) has soon faded, and now the words seem to be struggling to overcome the barrier of your respective lips.

Shouldn’t he be proud that he spared you the company of someone who made you visibly uncomfortable? … Nope? Why is his heart still so heavy? Sabo frowns and doesn’t know what to say, yet he’s guided to a single gesture – to take you in his arms, to hug you gently. Putting his gloved hand lightly on your hair, Sabo feels so sorry as he tightens his embrace. Feeling that you’re cuddling him back reassures him, and, as you whisper thanks; he offers you his most sincere apologies, before murmuring:

'I love you, (y/n).'

Marco

tbh i sincerely wondered whether Marco was a jealous man or not.

i think that, deep down, everyone has a small part of jealousy in themselves, but that the difference lies in the fact that we manage to control it with more or less ease. From then on, i believe that Marco has “mastered” his jealousy well, like he’s quite at peace with it.

i mean, especially if it's people he knows. Marco observes (from afar) and rationalizes things. Just because you talk to this or that member of the crew (or any other crew, btw), doesn't mean you're necessarily going to abandon him, or that something bad is going to happen to you.

yeah, Marco definitely prefers to be reasonable and to keep reading. You’re free to do whatever you want, he's the one you love anyway. And you’re the one he loves! So his face keeps that peaceful smile that makes you melt.

'Hope you had a nice time chatting with the crew, (y/n).'

actually it might sound confusing for you – does Marco really care about you? He never really seeks your attention (at least not in as flashy a way as his crewmates). He never seems bothered by you talking to other people who might be… well… his… “rivals”? It’s troubling.

but oh, your presence is the only thing that can drag Marco's eyes away from his book. and above all, when this very presence is accompanied by another – unknown – soul.

it takes him a little longer to stifle his slight jealousy, because it’s difficult to fight this discomfort in front of this person who could create turmoil in your relationship, so dear to the phoenix. But Marco tries to stay true to his rule, you know, rationalization, in order to respect your own freedom.

this person here seems so confident and proud of themselves, standing in front of you and showing off as if Marco doesn't exist - while he's sitting right next to you and the relationship between you and him is anything but ambiguous. As a result, Marco doesn’t know if he should “simply” call this rudeness... or a clear provocation towards him from this person. Either way, that's not acceptable. But he still tries to rationalize — there's no point in getting carried away.

however, Marco understands that this interaction needs to end as soon as he notices your reaction: you're not exactly rejecting this person, but you're not accepting them either. The signals are unclear, mixed, a little confused — you look uncomfortable, embarrassed, maybe more, and Marco doesn't like that. Not at all.

your moods, emotions, likes and dislikes — all of this holds no secrets for Marco. As your lover, it's only natural for him to pay attention to you, to get to know you, and Marco strives to do this every day with the precision of a doctor. And today, the symptoms don't bode well, so Marco decides to step in.

'Are you okay?'

the question is simple, the tone is calm, and he means what he says. He checks up on you, makes a diagnosis of the situation. He would then turn to the person and ask them the same thing, but with a very different perspective in terms of meaning.

Marco doesn't need to get angry, threaten, or make a big speech. Just his look can let the person know that it would be in their best interest to avoid making you feel too uncomfortable.

this very person understood it very quickly, and didn't push their luck. Marco watches them leave without any real expression showing on his face, before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you back towards him.

his expression is soft and his touch feather light as he rests his gaze on you, offering you a reassuring smile — and you can't help but smile back.

Trafalgar Law

jealousy is a form of affect. Trafalgar Law doesn't want to hear about affect... well, especially if it's jealousy, his jealousy.

might sound weird, but… unlike Marco, tbh i don't know if Law would try to rationalize things, to reassure himself that there's no real insecurity to feel, etc, etc. i rather think that he’d “simply” try not to think about it. What’s the point? It would only stretch thin your link… so… better try to pretend like everything’s fine, right? 🤡

yet you can read jealousy on Law’s face just like in an open book; it's obvious, but our friend with a mushroom hat is always ready to deny it, even if it means being a little curt.

'why would i be jealous? am i supposed to be jealous? i've no reason to be jealous of anything about you. do as you like, (y/n).'

when he defends himself, the word “jealous” is repeated a lot in his sentences, and somehow that’s the way his external speech betrays his deep state, his inner speech. Sometimes Law catches himself thinking that his jealousy isn't something bad, that it actually makes sense, doesn't it? After all, you like each other, and it's okay to feel... “in danger”? when that relationship is put in jeopardy. Moreover, this often motivates Law's desire to protect you, to support you. But… he also finds it unfortunate that it stems from negative affects. Law just wants to be there for you, to protect you, without himself feeling in danger about his place in your heart.

when he feels jealous, Law tends to distance himself, or, quite the contrary, to be slightly clingier than usual with you. Basically, he can either shut himself away and be very quiet, watching your interaction with the person who stirs up his jealousy from a distance (kinda like Sabo); or, on the contrary, he can make his presence felt in the most intense way possible, as if to put pressure on the person in question… and on you.

being more talkative and more attention-seeking than usual, being more irritable,... That would be Trafalgar Law’s (unconscious) way to show you he’s jealous. In fact, Law often realizes his own jealousy afterwards. At the heat of the moment, he just feels pissed off and frustrated, even though he finds it hard to admit it. Overall, what makes Law jealous is people who behave towards you in a way he considers to be inappropriate if they’re not your partner. e.g.: being too flirtatious with you.

Law isn’t the type to confront you to formally forbid you to discuss with someone, however he won’t fail to strongly advise you against hanging out, talking too much etc. with the person who embarrasses him — all of this through lil sentences that actually betray his condition (that you have already noticed for quite a while.)

‘They don’t inspire me with anything safe. I think you should avoid spending too much time with them.’

As said above, Law’s jealousy is no secret to you, it’s as plain as the nose on your face, but it’s often difficult to tackle the subject with him. Don’t tease him too much when it comes to this, he may close like a seashell. But all this embarrassment, which after all results from a form of personal pride; would be quickly put aside if the person (about whom Law already had doubts) comes to clearly bother you.

Coming out of his shell, Law will have no trouble stepping in, kinda abruptly. Maybe he'll grab that person by the collar, maybe not. He positions himself in such a way as to make it clear that nothing bad can happen to you as long as he’s by your side, that you’ll always find support in him. You can always count on him, even if he sometimes seems distant to you.

It’s all in the eyes. A piercing look that is much more full of meaning than words. Law doesn’t want to waste time talking to people who already bother him because they not only take his place, but don’t even take care of it. They’re just annoying you.

Law might sometimes be tempted to use his nodachi. But no doubt it would disappoint you… and that’s out of the question. Somehow it would mean to put himself on the same level as this person who bothers you, this very person who is (at least, in his eyes lol) a walking disappointment.

So Law just chooses to get even closer to them, so he can talk to them calmly… Well, to all appearances :) all of this with some sort of smirk that would actually contain a boiling anger as frustration, and which you’re the only reason why these two components don’t explode.

‘I've already been very lenient to let you talk to (y/n) while you seem so mannerless, so don’t overdo it. Back off and behave better. There will be no other chance.’

After that, depending on what you choose (do you want to leave? do you want to stay with this person who has now been warned by Law?), he’d stay close to you, not imposing himself on your actions, but making himself now much more attentive to the actions of the person — and this for your well-being rather than to his, rather than to this jealousy of which, as we’ve said, he finds it difficult to fully understand. It may not seem like much, but trust me that the person concerned would have understood that they shouldn't mess with you. brrr

In fact, it may seem strange, but I don’t think that Law is generally someone who would be very “fiery” in his jealousy, that is to say the type to violently attack those who make him jealous. i see him more as someone who withdraws, if not sulks; waiting for you to come get him to prove your ‘good faith’ — yes, because those are his terms. In reality, he just wants you to reassure him.

But, no matter what, if someone tries to hurt you, he’ll always be there to protect you! Law is protective of you — whether he’s sulking or not :)

[sylvia-plaths-fig-pie]

The night we met ♡ Sam Winchester

As a young girl it was drilled into you to never be alone in the woods.

As a woman the same sentiment was echoed.

But as a hunter, you found that that warning couldn't be one that you listened to. For the sole reason of what if there was a young girl or a woman in the woods at the mercy of the very things that you were trained to hunt. Trained to kill.

You'd been a hunter for as long as you could remember, grew up on the road with your mother. Never went to a real school or met anyone your age. It was just the two of you.

Untill it wasn't.

One particularly bad hunt with a nest of vamps left you to mourn the loss of your mother, and you were alone.

And that's how you stayed.

That's how you liked it.

Sure you came into contact with men, it was always men, who thought they knew more or were better than you. But you were still standing, and they, well they were not.

Life expectancy wasn't particularly high in your line of work, it would be a miracle of you made it to your 30th birthday. It seemed that hunters either died young or seemed to live forever. You didn't know what was worse.

That being said, the earlier option seemed very likely right about now.

You were alone in the woods, in a deep fog, after killing three vamps.

It was dark and there was probably other creatures lurking in the shadows, knowing your luck there would be a vamp nest right around the corner.

What made matters worse is that the exit wasn't exactly clear. You'd lost your map, couldn't hear a road, and (rather inconveniently) there was no sighn posts anywhere.

All you could do is walk in a straight line and hope that you were going in the right direction.

Hope.

You knew the irony.

Hope wasn't worth much. Hope was a damn sure way to get yourself killed. Hope was for young girls who wished on stars, but after learning the myths behind them you had lost faith even in the night sky.

Hope wasn't somthing you would bet your life on, yet you had no choice. It was better than a prayer you supposed.

Suddenly you became aware that your footsteps weren't the only noise in the darkness. There were voices.

Two distinct low voices. Voices of men. Why was it always men?

Familiar warnings rang through your head. You knew it wasn't just monesters you were to be afraid of, sometimes there are more sinister things that lurked in the darkness. Sometimes death wasn't the worst fait to face.

Your hand griped tighter around your knife, your free hand rested on top of your gun.

The voices stopped after a rush of feverish whispers.

You were going to do something stupid.

"Who's there?" You shouted, trying to sound as stoic as possible. If they didn't know you were there they sure did now, along with anything else lurking in the shadows. It really was a stupid decision, but making stupid decisions was part of the job description and it had gotten you this far, or at least you were still alive to tell the tale.

"I'm armed and you've lost the element of surprise so why don't you do us both a favour and stop hiding!" You shouted once more, slightly more urgently this time, even you could hear the slight panic in your own voice.

A tall figure emerged from the shadowy fog, arms raised in surrender. He was tall, almost abnormally so. 'Go for the legs if necessary' you mentally told yourself, just incase he want so friendly. He took slow, purposeful steps towards you in an attempt not to frighten you, you appreciated the gesture but it did nothing to settle your concern.

As he drew closer you could look him in the eyes. And that's exactly what you did. His eyes were Hazel, almost green with a touch of gold with a sense of softness and sensitivity about them. It felt like you were reading a book, being continually drawn in till you don't even rember who you were before you picked it up. Looking at him gave you a sense of comfort you hadn't expericed before on the road. It was nice. It was terrifying.

You cursed yourself for staring too long.

"Who are you?" You questioned, bringing the tip of your knife to rest against the base of his neck, the blood from the vamps, which still coated the blade, sticking slightly to his neck. He stopped in his tracks, his arms still up in surrender.

He looked unfazed, he looked as though he understood.

"My name is Sam winchester and I'm a-" he began but you cut him off, realisation hitting you.

"Winchester? Where's your brother?" You asked lowering your knife. You knew they hunted together, and you didn't want to be ambushed unwittingly my the other.

"Hi sweetheart." Another figure said as he sauntered out of the thick trees.

You rolled your eyes at his remark, making a menal note to stay clear of him if your able to.

You could tell that the one that approached you was the younger of the two, Sam as he introduced himself, the boy with deamon blood, or at least he was.

Meaning that the older of the two, and shorter, was Dean who, unsurprisingly, greeted you slightly condescendingly.

You turned your attention back to the brunette just as he began to speak.

"Wait how do you-?" He asked suddenly, slightly confused but also a hit of relief in his voice.

"Bobby is aways talking about you boys, I mean every hunter knows about you and your serious fuck ups, but Bobby keeps saying I should catch you boys and work with you or whatever but-" you rambled on before the younger winchester cut you off.

"You know Bobby?"

"Everyone knows Bobby."

"Wait so you must be-"

He was about to say your name before, who you assumed to be Dean, cut him off.

"Yes yes nice to meet you and whatever but Sammy and I have more pressing issues to attend to." He said with a wave of his hand ushering his brother over. Only Sam didn't move. His eyes were still fixed on yours. Your eyes still on him.

"I killed the three vamps if that's what you're doing out here." You commented, directing your answer to Sam.

He furrowed his brown in confusion.

"Three?" He asked, slightly taken aback.

"Yeah?" You responded, worry consuming you. You didn't miss one did you? You didn't make a mistake, did you? Everything was so matriciously planned out surely you couldn't have-

"We thought it was just a brother and a sister." Sam interrupted your thoughts, placing a strong hand on your shoulder. He clearly read the panic on your face, it was like he'd known you your whole life. His hand on you seemed to ground you, help you think, but it made you feel almost dizzy. It was an unfamiliar feeling, a feeling you weren't sure if you liked it or not. Regardless of the fact you relished in his touch as you composed yourself enough to explain what you knew.

"No they were hunting with their father, it seemed like this town was their first solo hunts, but it all lead back to him."

Sam finally turned away, his hand falling from your shoulder to look at Dean, in response he simply nodded his head to the side. There was some sort of unspoken communication between the two.

You felt left out. You longed to know what they were thinking. You specifically longed to know what the taller of the two was thinking.

"You're sure there's no more?" Sam asked as he turned to face you once more.

"I know that there are no more that are killing people in this area, that's good enough for me."

He just nodded in response.

"Well I guess that means we're done here," Dean commented clapping his hands together, "you crazy kids what to get out of here, maybe get some pie-"

"Shut up." You cut him off. It wasn't beacsue you were opposed to getting out of the woods, quite the opposite. But you heard something or at least thought you did.

"Sweetheart, I can tell you like my brother here more than me but there is no need to be-"

"Be quiet." You cut Dean off once more as you strained your ears again, you heard another rustling sound coming from near by. You gripped your knife tighter, your thumb drawing small circles on the hilt.

Turning in the spot to get a better gauge of your surroundings you clocked both of the winchesters expressions, they heard it aswell.

"You said it was a father and his two kids right?" Sam asked poised, now holding a large knife of his own.

"Yeah," you responded in a hushed whisper.

"Any sign of a mother?" He asked hurriedly, voicing the one thing you hoped not to be true.

Shit.

You hoped you would stumble onto another hunter, but you knew this time you wouldn't be so lucky. It had to be the mother and you cursed yourself for mot even considering her.

"Sam-" you began but were quickly cut off by a figure charging from the shadows.

She was fast, but worst of all she was smart. Thats probably why none of you picked up on her.

She launched herself at you first, the well known glint of vengeance alight in her eyes. "You killed them you bitch, you killed them all!" She sceamed in your face as you tried to bring your knife up to decapitate her.

But she was fast and her clawed hand dug into the wrist where your knife was Sam and Dean rushed to your side but they were quickly pushed away, falling on the ground too far away to reach you.

"Was this the blade that killed them?" She asked as you struggled against her, "didn't even have the decency to kill me aswell?"

Blood was gushing from your wrist from her claws as she twisted your own blade towards your chest.

From the corner of your eye you could see Sam pushing himself off the floor, disappearing into the fog.

Logically he was leaving you. He didn't know you. It was in his best intrest to get his brother and go, regroup and hunt tomorrow. You know logically that's what he was doing.

But something inside you told you otherwise. Something in your head was telling you that he was coming for you. That he would save you. That you just needed to stay alive for a few more moments.

It was more than hope that you had. You knew Sam was still there. You knew he wouldn't leave you.

You could feel your knife pressing against your rib cage, you were no where near as strong as her, you tried pushing back with all your might but it was no use.

You felt the blade as it began to draw blood. You felt the pain of the rapidly growing wound. You felt yourself slowing begin to loose grip on the world around you.

"Oh I am going to enjoy watching you die." The vamp said, her words venomous against your ear.

"Not as much as I'll enjoy this." As voice said from behind the vamp.

It was Sam.

Her was there, knife above his head as he swung it round.

The vamp was quick, but she wasn't quick enough to avoid the blow of Sam's knife as he swung it and swiftly decapitated her.

Blood splattered on you as you let out a sigh of relief. Sam was here.

Sam saved you.

Sam winchester saved your life.

You wanted to run to him but the corners of your vision blured. You were dizzy. You couldn't see. You couldn't stand.

"Sam..." you managed to whisper as the world fell from beneath your feet.

You felt two strong hands wrap around you and lower you slowly to the floor. Your head rested against something sturdy, something warm.

"Hey look at me I'm here," a voice said, it was muffled, distant almost.

"You need to just hang on for me, keep your eyes open okay?" The voice asked of you and you nodded or it at least felt like you did. Your vision was blurry but your eyes were open.

"Dean hurry!" Sam shouted, panicked. Sam was holding you. Your head was against Sam's chest and you were resting in his arms.

You tried to sit up but a sharp pain shot throught you. "Shit." You mumbled, you looked down and saw the knife still in you. It was deeper that what you first thought, but it can't have been that bad you could breathe fine, it missed your lung. You were fine, right?

"Sam?" It came out as more of a question, you didn't want to admit it but you were scared.

This is how your mother died in your arms, did she feel like this too? Was she scared? Did she know she was going to die, or did she foolishly think she would live?

"Hey, hey," Sam stroked your hair soothingly, "I'm right here love, I'm not going anywhere okay?" His touched seemed to ground you, soothe you.

"Dean is coming back with medical supply's, your going to be okay."

"Okay." You replied, all you could do was look at Sam. Even when he was blurry he was beautiful. Even when it felt like the world was going dark his eyes were bright as ever.

Thoes were the last things you rember seeing before the world went black, and you finally understood why so many people warned you not go out in the woods alone.

♡♡♡

Anybody want a part 2?

[mariyekos]

Going back to @kurookami-no-kuraitsuki's reblog, Halone's a bit of a mixed bag, but isn't as outright dismissive of concerns as Nophica is. Now Halone's my patron deity so I'm definitely coming at this with a bit of bias, but I read her words as acknowledging the faults in some who worship her even if she doesn't outright scorn them, whereas Nophica just gives the elementals the green light.

(Above: screenshots of the third and fourth Halone line below)

Halone: How bold you are to summon me, NAME. 'Tis no less than I expect from one of mine. Halone: In recognition of your valor and deeds, I offer a word of counsel. Halone: Well do I know the power of men's hopes - of mortal faith. And there is no faith that I reject. Halone: Yet in every age, there are those who invoke the name of the divine for their own ends. Be not misled by them.

In the third line, Halone seems to be saying that there is no inherent wrongness in being faithful, as it is powerful in its own right. But in the fourth line, she warns against those who use faith as their excuse to do bad things. No names are named and no details are given, but this acknowledgment of the misuse of the divine to further one's own ends (like what King Thordan and Archbishop Thordan VII, among others, did) is key. Yes faith can be good and she has no problem with faith itself (line 3), but people can abuse faith for selfish reasons, so you should watch out and not be misled (line 4). She does not explicitly mention Ishgard like Nophica mentions the elementals, and she does not say their actions are good, just that faith is.

Basically, Halone seems to be implying she is not happy people have done selfish (or bad) things in her name, which can be read as her not being happy about what some Ishgardians have done even if she is fine with being worshipped in general. It's the actions that are bad, even if the belief is not. And that's what makes the two different!

I know it's in the RB above mine, but I'm going to put Nophica's lines (including the two before it) in the text here just to make it a little easier for me to read and compare.

(Above: screenshot of the lines below).

Nophica: Why, if it isn't NAME! You with to speak, do you? Nophica: Tell me, have you ever met an elemental? Nophica: Many hold that they were born of me, and as I mentioned, they are the voice of those who abide in the Twelveswood. Nophica: At times, they may seem excessive in their actions, but it is out of an abundance of love. So pray be good to them, and heed their warnings!

As @eriyu said, Nophica seems to be just dismissing the problem of the elementals. Even if Nophica doesn't hold any power over them, her message is one of approval. I will note that she doesn't explicitly confirm she actually made the elementals, just that other people think she did. But it's less an issue of whether or not she made the elementals or whether or not she holds any power over them, and more an issue of whether she's fine with what they're doing. Since she tells you to be nice to them and that their actions are done for a good reason (love), I'd say yes, she is.

So...

Nophica basically says "yes the elementals may be doing excessive (bad) things, but it's okay because it comes out of the goodness of their hearts. Do what they say, and don't blame them for being bad!"

Halone basically says "faith can come from the goodness of people's hearts and I like that, but you must be wary of those who use faith as an excuse to do selfish (bad) things. Don't let yourself be led astray by those who do bad!"

If neither can actually stop people/creatures from doing anything, the only thing we can judge them on is what they think of those actions. When the creatures associated with Nophica do bad things, Nophica says to listen because it's for a good reason. When the creatures associated with Halone do bad things, Halone says not to listen because it's not. Hence why I find Nophica's line "worse" than Halone's. One goddess gives an excuse and says to keep doing said things, while the other gives an explanation and says not to.

Tl;dr Nophica does not acknowledge the faults of those associated with her whereas Halone does and that's what matters to me.

what baffles me about the Gridania situation isn't that the problems "still" haven't been dealt with; it's that the story seems less interested in exploring them than it did in ARR. there is so much ARR content that clearly acknowledges that the racism is a problem, that the xenophobia is a problem, that the elementals are a problem...

but later storylines are just more and more content to gloss over it all. as of 6.5 we just have Nophica telling us "teehee, listen to the elementals; all the shitty things they do are just because they love too much :)"

[melpomenelamusa]

Melpómene´s whump stories archive

To celebrate the new year, I've decided to share with you some of my favorite whump stories I read this year as a thank you to all the authors who share a little bit of their world with us 💜✨

My plan is to update this list annually and have it function as a sort of personal archive for me, hehe, but you can use it too if you'd like! 😁

Melpómene's personal favorites:

🩸Shattered (by @oddsconvert): An anti-human-blood-drinking vampire doctor tries to save the life of a human who for years was the bloodbag of a vampire I really hate.

🔪Total $hit$how (by @befuddled-calico-whump): 5 misfits escaping prison for their criminal records are hired by a mysterious organization to stop another mysterious, but more evil, sci-fi organization (Benji, my son).

🩸Blood and tears (by @whumpisgoodwhumpislife): A little half-vampire is suffering too much and a human decides to take care of him and protect him (They are both my babies).

🪄Forsaken (by @inhurtandincomfort): A young wizard, condemned by a pact he made with a misterious entity in the past, is trained and used as a living weapon by a malevolent institution in a fantasy world. Ft. some loser boy mad scientist.

🎣In troubled water (by @whumpisgoodwhumpislife): A little mer anglerfish suffers. That's it. Also known as "my poor fish baby".

Others amazing stories I've read/I'm reading:

📸Smile for the camera! (by @morning-star-whump ): A boy is kidnapped by a psychopath from the deep web. His parents and his little boyfriend try to find him (Andre Vazquez is the best character).

👑Darius & Mianu (by @geode-crystal): A traumatized prince and his faithful knight/boyfriend want to live happily ever after, but something always happens.

👹The Bahkauv (by @deluxewhump): Three friends decide to buy a magical creature to study; but what seemed like nothing more than a monster or an animal may turn out to be a companion.

⚡Overloaded (by @fleur-a-whump): The son of a supervillain wants to join the good guys, but discovers that "heroes" can be just as cruel as villains.

⚓Voyagers (by @sorrowful-hyacinth): A jerk sea captain captures a jerk mermaid prince and they torture each other. They both deserve it because they're such bastards, but you also feel bad for them and it's complicated.

⛓️A taste of your own medicine (by @oddsconvert): Whumper gets kidnapped and torture along with his ex-whumpee by an even evil whumper. Only one person is having fun here.

👨‍👦With me (by @greatgigintheskiess): A bitter guy living in the woods accidentally rescues a little boy who escaped from an evil laboratory. Parental caretaker my beloved.

🪐Humanity Collector (by @rabbit-flaying): A cosmic creature who likes to collect human things decides to add a real human to its collection (A cosmic horror one-shot).

🧵Writemas 2024 (by @tildeathiwillwrite): A woman suffers the mysterious death (or murder?) of her husband. This is the kind of story I would love to read in a printed book and recommend to my entire family.

🦌Whumpcember 2024 (by @kabie-whump): An evil wizard has turned Santa's reindeer into humans, who now have to live with their new bodies. A series of shorts with very interesting and cute characters that I definitely need to keep reading if I could.

🪢My favorite stories by @writinglittlepains: Speedster, Aleksander's Plight and Sweet Fins are my favorites!

⚖️Guilt & Revenge (by @what-if-i-just-did): A traumatized ex-bully is kidnapped by the kids he used to bully as a kid because he couldn't afford therapy and is brutally tortured by those who actually happened to be the ones who needed therapy.

🫂We Are TroubleD (by @whumpty-dumpty-doo): Two best friends are kidnapped by a guy who originally planned to capture one of them for ransom, but now is just torturing them for fun.

⛈️Ventis and friends (by @kabie-whump): A half draconic half air elemental and his varied adventures in a fantasy world *kindly slaps Ventis* This bad boy can fit so much trauma in him.

🛡️Drusus & Keme (by @whumperofworlds): Don´t know why it took me so long to add the whumpable husbands to the list. There´s whump! And fluffy married love! And used as bait!

🪦Curse of Withering (by @sir-fenris): A magical boy with the power to kill everything he touches is imprisoned and used as a living military weapon.

🎀Pretty whumpee (by @string-of-broken-hearts): Pretty whumpe and carewhumper. I really need to know the context, I'm so intrigued.

👿Karma's B*tch (by @whumpthusiast): A pathetic guy kidnaps the wrong woman and now it backfired.

👥Group Whumpees (by @haro-whumps): A young man inherits his eccentric aunt's house after her death and discovers that she had enslaved and tortured five servants. It's now his job to try to restore them to a sense of humanity.

[adragonsfriend]

Ways to Write a Meaningful AO3 Comment…

…or frankly, a comment on any writing or artwork where your primary goal is to encourage and appreciate the creator.

It occurs to me that comments are a mini writing task, I have been a writing tutor, and if I’m going to ramble about how not to form communities and have meaningful interactions on the internet, I could maybe also help make it a little easier.

This post is written on the assumption that people want to interact, but struggle for whatever reason: nervous, tired, didn’t realize comments meant that much, can’t think of what to say. I myself spent years at a time on ao3 not commenting on literally anything—something about stones in glass houses. But in my experience, while getting comments on my own fics is kind of my favourite, leaving the kind of comment I know I would cherish—and sometimes getting replies from authors replying to my comments and actually chatting with them—is pretty damn magical too.

In that spirit, this post is henceforth a how-to, not an argument, and I’m not going to address anything to do with bad faith comments. I’m gonna try and provide some structures and simple formats to start comments from. I cannot emphasise enough, these are all intended to be used from a place of sincerity. Tools for finding and formatting the appreciation which is already in your brain, just hiding from you.

That said, we’re gonna take this in stages—

1. The Chapter Kudos

“Chapter kudos,” a little “<3,” an “I loved this,” or similar simple expressions of warmth and enthusiasm, slapped on a oneshot or each chapter of a long fic. These are a nice small gesture that lets the author know you’re here and you’re still loving the fic. Not every author is in love with the these type of very short comments, but unless they have a specific note about it, they’re almost certainly glad for the knowledge you’re still reading. This is minimal—great for days or weeks when you’re tired, low effort, can’t think of shit to say about a particular chapter, and so on. Comments, like all tasks, must be allowed to vary in intensity with available energy and time.

2. The 1-2 sentences

A one or two sentence comment. Here, a combination of a general compliment: “this was amazing,” and a specific compliment: “character A’s dialogue felt so realistic” works really well.

General compliments are typically easier to come up with:

What an awesome chapter!

Wow ok I did not see that coming—

I fucking. Love. Your writing.

This was so exciting!

I screamed when I saw this updated

Maybe a little over the top, but you get the idea—it’s hard to go wrong with these.

Specific compliments are often a little harder to come up with, but they generally fall into two categories which are both wonderful: content and writing.

Content includes things like:

I love [character] so much, seeing them in [particular situation] was so fun

Wow there’s so little content for [niche fandom/character/ship/trope] it’s great to see it here

Your idea about [authors headcanon] is so smart—that makes [weird element of canon] make so much sense

I didn’t used to be into [trope/ship] but holy fuck am I convinced now

The point being you’re noting a particular element content of the fic—what and who it’s about—that you loved. These are great because getting really damn excited about a character/trope/headcanon etcetera, really is the heart of fandom.

Writing takes a slightly different tack, and talks about the author’s writing skills—what they do well:

You write such good dialogue, it feels really realistic

Your action scenes are so exciting!

The tone of this chapter was so perfectly creepy—the way you describe [setting/character] gave me the shivers

The spacing you used really fit the piece—it’s a neat way to show the character’s mindset there they’re struggling to think clearly

The combination of a general and specific compliment can make it easier to start writing your comment, while giving you a second to think of your specific thought. It’s simple, but it means a lot to get any kind of specific comment, because it shows the author that you are paying attention to their writing and that you appreciate or relate to them, specifically. These comments are fairly quick to write, but can mean so much.

3. The paragraph

Several sentences long, with a bit more room to explain what you loved. Everything from the 1-2 sentence section applies here too. A general compliment is still a great starting point, and specific compliments are still where we want to end up. The main difference is you’ve got a little more room to talk, and you can take that in a few different directions.

You can talk about one specific compliment for a bit:

I love the way you write dialogue—character A saying “[quote]” was exactly what they would say in that situation. And their banter with character B was incredible, i laughed out loud. The way they both use cursing, but in slightly different ways is fascinating. The way character B does it is…

Or you can go through several different ones quickly:

I love the way you write dialogue—character A saying “[quote]” was exactly what they would say in that situation. The fast dialogue kept the pace up and the whole chapter was so exciting—I loved that you brought up character B and character C’s relationship too, it gets so little attention but I love it…

There’s also room for wider observations and questions (these can also totally go in 1-2 sentence comments, it’s just easier to have a little more substance around them):

Your writing always makes me feel so [feelings]

Wait I’m a little confused did [event] happen the way I think it did, or am I being silly?

Your ideas about [character] are awesome, I love everything you’ve written about them.

I’m so curious, what’s your specific lore on [character/event]?

4. Multiparagraph

Several paragraphs, or a very long paragraph. Hot damn, the author is in love with you now. Either you’ve got a whole lot to say about one specific topic of writing or content, or you’ve got a couple of different topics you want to pay some attention to—as you start writing your comment, you’ll probably discover a few more. Let yourself ramble, make bullet points, just get your thoughts out, if you have this many. All the principles from before apply: general compliments, specific compliments, wider observations, questions—all of these can easily feature in a long comment.

5. Fuck Formating

Write comments in whatever format works for you. Bullet points, google translated into the necessary language, rambling, well organized, short, long, emojis, copy-pasting your favorite quote from the fic with an exclamation point, pre-formatted general compliments, whatever will get your thoughts and enthusiasm down.

If you are communicating, the format doesn’t matter all that much. The same information from a multi paragraph comment can be done in bullet points or by quoting. Whatever communication you do will be meaningful to the author.

It’s hard to go wrong—

Like most writing, making meaningful comments and picking out those specific compliments gets easier with practice. There’s no need to write multiparagraph comments all the time. Those 1-2 sentence ones can be full of so much love, and chapter kudos are sometimes all there’s energy for.

The most important writing advice ever in my opinion is this: you have interesting things to say. About yourself, about the world, about writing, about that damn fanfic.

Go forth and use the structures above, or come up with comments I couldn’t even dream of. Whatever you do, you will find fic authors are probably the most willing and grateful audience in the whole world.

[saintofsacrilege]

i’ve been pondering aftg and tsc recently, and i think i had a breakthrough.

if nora had made jeanee an established relationship, then they would’ve largely been perceived as andreil 2.0 in the sense that renee and jean—like andrew and neil—would’ve had that same type of complementary trauma that allows them to instantly understand each other. jeanee would be able to face each other’s demons head-on as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. as i said in a previous andreil post, “the whole reason [they] work is that they’re able to slot their jagged edges together. that’s why they’re so connected.”

as far as we know, jerejean doesn’t have that. jeremy has to put effort into seeing where jean is coming from, which is by no means evidence of a weaker connection, just a different one. this isn’t to say that jeremy didn’t have a difficult past since CLEARLY something is up, he just hasn’t revealed the details yet. but regardless, based on his reactions to jean in tsc, he’s almost intimidated by what jean has gone through. jeremy still wants to be there for jean, to support him and help him heal, but there’s nevertheless an element of i-might-be-in-over-my-head that andreil never had. jeremy will never give up on jean, but i think that’s more of a reflection of how he views people in general, whereas andreil’s unwavering faith and commitment to each other didn’t really extend to anyone beyond the two of them (you could argue that andrew was similarly dedicated to aaron and kevin but yk what i mean. aaron himself said neil was different).

selfishly, i would’ve loved to have seen more of renee and the parallels between andreil and jeanee’s relationships. i find renee’s character as “a bad person trying very hard to be a good person” absolutely fascinating and andreil will always be my #1 aftg couple. that being said, though, i think nora made the right choice to focus on jerejean and explore a different dynamic. i doubt the majority of fans would’ve been too happy with jeanee anyway, both because jerejean is a fan favorite ship and because jeanee could be potentially watered down to the “heterosexual andreil” (i obviously believe there’s more to them than that, but the risk was definitely there).

all this to say i have a newfound appreciation for jerejean and i’m looking forward to the gold raven ✨