#also applies here but ghost would figure out what’s up immediately

[little-pondhead]

Thinking about if Dani ever gets added to the Villain Everlasting Trio au, like how would she fit in? Obviously the JL would have to figure out she's a clone and try and figure out why she exists ("maybe fenton is just that narcissistic?" flash asks, meanwhile batman is already texts agent a to get ready another room in addition to the three already prepared). Maybe she acts like the innocent kid in danger until heroes get close? batfamily trying to pspspsps her away from fenton? The trio collectively calling her their daughter?

I love this au so much, even if I still don't fully forgive you for making Tucker hot.

The way I SPRINTED to my computer.

Disclaimer: This particular AU has nothing to do with Fun Sized and Feral by @nutcase8691 or my Dani Fenton redesign from a while ago. This isn’t really important, but I thought the plot of this au might be straying the tiniest bit too close to the Feral AU (which I love btw) and I just didn’t want to cause confusion.

TLDR: Dani had to mature too quickly in their home world, so when she arrived in the DC universe, she finally got to slow down and be a kid. :)

Okay okay. Give me a moment. Since everyone is acting like the opposite of their usual self when they're playing villains, your question was, how would she fit in? To backtrack to this earlier post, I said that each of the trio's specific gimmicks somehow ties into their everyday lives. They looked at their immediate friends, family and acquaintances, picked out the traits they saw as 'villainous,' and then applied that to themselves.

Danny became a mad scientist because even though his parents love him through and through, they still hurt him the most. The threat of capture and dissection from the GIW didn't help, either. He wears a suit similar to his parents, pushes his hair up so he can see better, and his white lab coat looks a little like the GIW's suits. The suit is also red, which is the opposite of green, distancing himself further from his hero life as Phantom and connecting him more to his civilian self, where red is present on his shirt. He refuses to use his powers, as well.

Sam looks like an angel, which seems odd given her completely goth look and slightly pessimistic attitude. And if she uses her plant powers (shut up, she totally has them) as part of Team Phantom, then that rules out using them as a villain. They want to completely separate these alter-egos from each other. Well, one of the most significant sources of strife in Sam's personal life is her parents. In the show, they're seen constantly fighting with Sam, trying to mold her into their perfect daughter, when Sam is very obviously happy with how she is right now. So as a silent fuck you to her parents, Sam gets a hold of a Realm artifact, the halo, which gives her a pair of ghostly wings and the ability of flight. Now, she's the one in the air, and Sam is still doing what she does best, even as an angel. She tries to show the world that not all angels are perfect, and in fact, they can be downright monstrous. (This is where her more aggressive and destructive attitude comes in.)

As far as I'm aware, Tucker doesn't have any trauma related to his parents. (The lucky bastard.) He is the tech-nerd stereotype, however. And since he's from a cartoon from 2004, that means he gets bullied. A lot. The show focuses mainly on Danny, but you cannot tell me Tucker wasn't bullied like that, either. For the sake of the au, let's say Danny was taking all the beatings for Tucker. Maybe he was in canon; I can't remember. But not only is Tucker being physically bullied but so is his best friend. (Eventually lover!) And imagine his feelings when Team Phantom shows up to a ghost fight, and Tucker is absolutely useless the entire time. He just can't help at all. Danny and Sam are on the front lines, redirecting hits and doing damage control, and here he is, waiting for the Wi-Fi to catch up on his PDA. It eats him up. He wants to be helpful in more ways than one, and that's what the DC universe gives him. He takes another Realm artifact; this time, it's actually his by birthright, and the artifact drastically increases his physical power, just like he's always wanted. He learns Egyptian magic and dresses in a way that gives homage to his time in Egypt-which was traumatizing by itself, but hey, he has sweet beetle magic now.

Basically, Fenton, Manson, and Foley are all the results of the trio's frustrations and fears. They become the things they stress about the most to help cope with their everyday lives. The DC universe is their outlet.

So where does Dani fit in?

Well, Dani is a clone, as we know. Her creation and introduction to the world were rather sudden if you compare her to a typical baby. And that's what she is; a baby. Unless you jumped the timeline far into the future, Dani is barely a year old in canon (I think.) And after her team-up with Danny to defeat Vlad, she makes the decision to leave Amity and travels the world. She has to navigate an entire world independently, even if Danny wants to help her. So now, plop her in the DC verse. What's the opposite of an independent clone who's had to fend for herself from a very young age and has had almost no real familial bonds?

A kid. A scared, touched-starved child who's had no one to look after her for who knows how long. (Vlad doesn't count here.) Dani gets to the DC verse and cries because she and Danny can finally bond like she always wanted to. She doesn't have to put up a strong front because the trio is there to protect her. Dani is extremely young, and now she can finally be a kid. It's not mental age regression; instead, Dani no longer has to hold herself back from doing childish things or crying. Both are things that could be a danger when you're living on the streets. She spends almost all her time here now.

The Everlasting Trio had already missed her before, but they had just fully adopted her in this new world. Dani is their baby. Their little girl. She didn't ask to be born-she shouldn't have to suffer because it was unsafe at home. Well, they can make a new one, just for her, here in this universe. And look! There’s more clones for her to bond with! The GZ is more accessible than ever, and their commute between universes really isn’t that bad. They like it here! And the heroes and villains will never take her away, no matter how hard they try. Sure, Dani can have playdates with some of them, but she will wail and scream if anyone so much as suggests she stay the night without her parent's permission.

Oh, and she never stops being a little shit. If anyone doubts that Fenton and Dani are related, they are simply ushered online to see that one viral clip of Dani latching on to King Shark with her teeth and not letting go in the middle of a shopping plaza. The camera pans to the left a moment later, and the audience spots Fenton doing the exact same thing to John Constantine.

The first time the Justice League meets Dani, it's right after she got lost during a spacewalk with Danny and Sam. She enters the first place she sees, the Watchtower, and breaks down in front of Wonder Woman about how she can't find her parents and doesn't know how to get home. The heroes are baffled and try to comfort her until Danny comes barging in five minutes later, panicking over his baby girl missing. They reunite, the heroes are reeling, and Superman mentions he didn't think Fenton was old enough to have a kid.

Fenton looks up from his bear hug and goes: "Huh? Oh, no. I'm only seventeen. (work with me here) Dani is technically my clone, but we adopted her properly as soon as possible."

And now the League has two issues. Their most annoying enemy is only seventeen. And he has a clone.

What the f u c k.

Extra analysis: Dani's outfit is cleaner and a little fancier than what she wore in the show. She ties her hair up like Tucker and pins her bangs back like Sam. She already looks identical to Danny but likes to wear his sweaters, especially in cold weather. The oversized clothes remind her of her time with Danny in Amity Park, and helps hide her physique better, so it's hard to tell how old she is. She wears leggings to show that she no longer has to fight for her life every day on the streets. Now that the trio adopted her, she can relax and let someone else take the hits for a while. (We all know how fast leggings and tights can be ruined when doing literally anything.) Fright Knight gifts her a cursed doll that helps protect her in stressful situations and functions like an SOS beacon. JLD hates the bear. (She named it Strawbeary.)

She acts on her impulses more often, which the trio sees as a good thing. Even if that impulsive desire gets her in trouble, it gives everyone a chance to learn and grow as a family. Dani also refrains from going ghost at first, following her dad's wishes. Right now, she's just giving herself a break from her previous nomadic lifestyle. After a bit, she and Danny will bond over their halfa status, and she'll grow into her own unique core and powerset. The heroes dread the day the littlest Fenton decides to join her parents in their shenanigans.

[rea-grimm]

Ghost Desmond Miles

You and your friends decided to do a test of courage on Halloween in an old house at the end of town that was supposed to be haunted. Of course, you wait until dark, because what kind of test of courage would that be in the light?

As soon as it got dark, you went inside with your friends. You went in together and planned to split up there. However, this remained only a plan, as others were afraid to go out on their own.

It was a big old house after all, and you've seen enough horror movies to know that splitting up is always a bad idea.

You all turned on your flashlight and started exploring. There was darkness everywhere, lots of dust and cobwebs. The floor beneath you creaks with every step.

You walked down the main hall and headed up the stairs. You planned to take it systematically from top to bottom. Of course, omit the cellar or only the most daring ones.

As you walked up the stairs, you felt the temperature drop around you and steam left your mouth for a moment. You looked at each other to see if it was really a ghost or what. Immediately, however, the temperature returned to normal.

Here and there you heard the screeching of the floor and walls, but nothing else. It wasn't until you passed the next two rooms that the painting on the wall shook before falling to the ground. Your friend screamed so much at that you thought you went deaf.

As you progressed, objects around you began to move and fall more and more often, and it even happened that the candlestick rose and flew directly at your friend, who missed him by only millimetres.

More screeching noises began to echo through the house as if someone was watching you and whispering around. It felt like someone was there with you.

A light came on in the last room upstairs and a white figure appeared in the doorway. However, the light immediately went out and the figure disappeared with it.

The noise, the movement of the thing and the flashing of the light began to increase in intensity and you took the stairs down almost two at a time.

You immediately headed for the exit when a pale figure appeared in front of you and raised a pitch-black hand towards you. You immediately stopped and headed to the opposite side.

Everything around you was shaking and a male voice carried through the house urging you to leave.

You ran across the living room to the kitchen where the back entrance was supposed to be. You ran through the kitchen as a chill shot through you and you tripped over the raised threshold.

You fell to the ground, but no one noticed in the panic. Maybe also because all the windows and doors were slammed shut.

You scrambled to your feet and noticed that your knees and palms were scraped. You sat on the ground and panted. You didn't expect such an escape. You didn't even notice the white figure appearing next to you.

“You're hurt,” he said, leaning down.

“It's nothing, just a few scratches,” you replied looking at the ghost.

“I guess I got a little carried away,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck before helping you to your feet. He blamed himself for your fall.

“You were amazing. I get the impression they were completely terrified. I was just a little clumsy,” you smiled at him. Even if Desmond was a ghost, he probably wouldn't hurt a fly.

Desmond smiled at you before disappearing, reappearing in a moment with disinfectant and band-aids.

You sat down in the kitchen on a chair and let him treat you. Desmond first applied disinfection to your scrapes and then covered them with plasters. His touch was slightly cold, yet gentle.

"I'll make you your favourite drink for that," he said before walking through the wall into the next room where the old bar was. The alcohol in it was still good though, and Desmond looked after it and kept it kind of clean.

You walked behind him and sat down at the bar. Desmond poured the ingredients into a shaker and started mixing, tossing the shaker around, and it was a bit of a performance. He then poured you a drink and sat across from you.

“My great ghostly bartender,” you said, kissing his cheek. You still wondered a little how it was possible to touch him as a ghost, but neither of you had an answer.

"Just a ghost," he replied dejectedly. You knew he would prefer to be alive again and take you out on a date without any problems.

“It's okay,” you said, smiling at him. You were glad to at least be able to see him, talk to him and touch him. Desmond looked into your eyes and took your hand.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked you hesitantly. You nodded your head in agreement and gave his hand a light squeeze.

Desmond caressed your cheek before leaning in and kissing your lips. It was like a snowflake landed on your lips.

Assassin's Creed Masterlist

[aesethewitch]

Hey friend 👋 I just stumbled across your ghost analysis post and was intrigued, and saw that you do tarot readings?

I recently began looking into tarot, but the two decks I have aren't traditional ones, but I've read from a lot of people that traditional tarot decks are the (only?) way to go. I'm curious about your journey in learn to interpret the deck(s) you have, since I'm also struggling with that.

I also see that you have a free tarot reading Friday, and since it IS Friday, I'd like to ask- how can I overcome the political and religious obstacles that force me to hide?

(if this is a question that isn't so suited for tarot, that's my bad)

-SC

Hey there! (:

So, anyone who tells you there's only One Right Way to do something is full of shit. Folks just like to feel superior for doing things More Correctly Than You.

You can use whatever for divination and get solid results. You could make a functioning system out of coupons. Hell, you could doodle on printer paper, cut it into squares, and then use it as a tarot deck. That would probably work, as long as you understood what the pictures meant.

Some folks have an easier time with traditional decks, others don't. I tend to vibe with decks that are a little funky. Extra cards, different suits, interesting presentations, etc.

The deck I use most often, the Alleyman's Tarot, is technically not a tarot deck at all -- it's an oracle deck, since it doesn't follow the "traditional" composition of a tarot deck (major arcana + minor arcana). But I still call it a tarot deck because I can and I use it like one. It works great.

I do have the Deviant Moon Tarot, which is based on the Rider-Waite-Smith, and it would be considered a "traditional" kind of deck. It's a great deck, and it's the one I taught myself to read with many years ago.

When I got that deck, I believed that someone else had to buy tarot decks for you; it was "selfish" and would "taint" the deck's power if you bought it yourself. Also bullshit, by the way, but I had that belief in me. A kind lady overheard me lamenting and pining for the Deviant Moon in a bookstore, bought me a gift card, and gave it to me with a note telling me to buy the deck for myself. It was a life-defining moment for me, to be sure, and one that sticks with me today. I strive to live up to that kindness.

Learning was an interesting thing. I didn't look up any spreads, and I barely used the book. Mostly, I just wanted to look like I knew what I was doing right out the gate (I didn't; I was 18 and had self-image issues, lmao). So I taught myself to interpret based on vibes and imagery, then went back to reference the book when I really needed to. It helped that I had a spirit ally hanging around that was looking for a vessel; it's still attached to those cards to this day, and it helped me learn how to hone my abilities. For a long time, the act of pretending I knew what I was talking about prevented me from actually learning much at all.

It isn't... well, it isn't great advice. I wouldn't recommend "learning" tarot the way I did. I figured it out after a while, but there was no real system to it. If I could go back and relearn it the way I would do it now, I absolutely would. Here's what I've learned is a fairly good method for learning any new tarot deck:

Shuffle the cards and lay the pile face-down.

Draw the top card.

In a notebook, write down your immediate, knee-jerk impressions of the card. I recommend just key words or single sentences.

Then, take a closer look at it. Note the colors, positioning of figures, background imagery, and other details. Write down what you see, not how you would interpret it.

Now interpret. Take your time writing down how the card's specific imagery makes you feel. What does it remind you of?

Jot down an example question and how you would apply the card to the answer. For example, the question "What do I need to know right now?" answered by Temperance could be something like: "Patience is a virtue. Take your time." Or however you would interpret that.

Set the card aside. Repeat until the entire deck is done.

Congrats! Now, you have a general idea of the entire deck's meanings and a handy guide to help you remember what they mean to you.

Bonus step: Review periodically. Opinions and interpretations change as you do.

I follow this routine with every new deck I get. I've figured out that the same card in two different decks could have vastly different meanings, depending on how it's depicted. It's really cool!

Also, it's kind of important to note that I'm not really a full animist. I don't think that tarot decks (or other tools) have individual spirits. My Deviant Moon deck has one, but that's because of the ally I mentioned before. The Alleyman's deck doesn't have a spirit as far as I can tell. I've got spirits hanging around that enjoy assisting with divination and magic and such, though.

As for free tarot, it's closed for now! The update reblog was sent to my drafts instead of posting,,, sorry about that!! Your question would definitely be fine for tarot interpretations (though a little shallow with only one card; situations like that are typically better interpreted with more cards I've found). I do open it up every Friday, though, so feel free to stick around and send another next week! (: (Or visit my Ko-Fi linked in my pinned post if you want a more in-depth paid reading! /shilling)

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

any chance for more what if emma doesn't die thoughts from you? I am filled with sorrow for her and Dean once more

ooh....you know for someone who has an obscenely long ghost emma wip I've never really considered if she just survived from the beginning hmm...

well obviously when sam barges in the room dean either manages to put himself in front of emma and talk him down, or, the sexier option, he shoots the gun out of sam's hand. sam still argues but dean is invoking oldest rule here lmao. I don't know if 'poughkeepsie' would apply here but I want him to drop a code word to guilt sam into letting emma come along

between his attitude and the whole 'pulling a gun on her' thing emma reasonably does not like sam right off the bat, so she's practically glued to dean like a shadow for the first couple weeks

(personally I think emma truly wanted to escape and didn't want to hurt anyone, I think she only pulled the knife bc she couldn't read dean and thought he wasn't gonna help her. so obviously that's. less of an issue here)

idk I just really like the idea of emma knowing How to fight but having more of a pacifistic nature, not really blending well with either sides of her family. like she didn't ask dean to protect her from the amazons so she could be a hunter. dean may not be able to give her a normal life while they're busy hiding from leviathans, amazons, and the us government, but he'll be damned if he's gonna force her into a fight or give her a gun. sam tries to convince emma to work as bait for the pennywhistle case and dean goes Nuclear

so once dean's comfortable letting her out of his sight for longer than half an hour she's usually on research or like, the get away driver lol

dean's 'never had enough money to get nice things for sammy' childhood guilt is manifesting aggressively he's buying stuff for emma every time he goes anywhere. whole back seat of the car is decked out with fluffy blankets and pillows, she's got her own collection of music, clothes, stuff like that. she definitely has more stuff than she should have considering they're living on the run but that's not gonna stop dean

sorry I just love the idea of sam constantly picking fights with her and dean being like. Why Do You Have Beef With My Newborn.

like I definitely think sam would warm up to her before the end of the season, especially after cas fixes his mind, but between the amy situation and his personal trauma about feeling like a monster his family should have hunted, I think he'd just. have a rough time with her at first. plus in no world does sam know how to communicate with teenage girls lmao

HOWEVER I don't think she'd stay with him while dean is trapped in purgatory. I think lowkey sam doesn't even really. Consider being her guardian or whatever bc he sees her as grown and capable, but also he's immediately trying to find a place to settle down and emma is like. what the fuck are you talking about none of this is finished???

so she takes off. she wants to find kevin to 1) make sure he's okay and 2) see if his prophet powers can help her figure out what happened to dean and cas. I think she should meet up with charlie!!! she figures if anyone can track down a missing person it'd be her, and we all know charlie's not gonna turn away kid wanting to save her parent.

they do find kevin (and linda!) and get them situated and do what they can to hide them from crowley. dean and cas eventually get out of purgatory the same way as in canon bc they couldn't really figure that out, but at least kevin wasn't abandoned all year and had a decent head start on figuring out the tablet. the four of them have a little clubhouse set up and charlie makes buffy the vampire slayer references or room of requirement jokes literally every day

this is pretty much all I've got right now, but I'm always filled with sorrow on emma's (and deans) behalf omg. someone please save her already

[megabuild]

this was like a five minute doodle just to get the concept down but ive been thinkin about greggory..

obvious full disclaimer him being more human shaped is inspired by qsmp fanarts ofc. pushes that out of the way

ive talked a little about nl!olipix here and here but tldr oli ""dies"" at the end of empires and runs away and leaves olipelago to greggory. pixelle gets nothing in his will btw which he doesnt really care about on like a physical level because hes more upset about his boyfriend fucking dying but there is a part that stings that hes not even mentioned in the will despite them being so close he feels a little like oh so did that not mean anything to you.. but thags his issue.

the most immediate problem is that greggory is like not competent enough to live alone or maintain the olipelago. sorry. he's still in his shell at this point and like six months old tops he's baby. pixelle was already lowkey his parent because he babysat and hung out with oli a lot so it sort of happens naturally.. plus as a dragon its honestly a bit more like a slightly higher maintenance cat. who can breathe fire once hes out of the shell a couple months down the line. thats scary.

pix wraps up work on the ancient capital and moves back to the city to continue his previous job but things don't work out for .. various reasons. he's literally still like part ghost. but when he moves he takes greggory with him ofc because like he can't leave him alone... pix doesn't actually like children he was really bad with hermes but gregg grows on him. maybe in part because he's not really a child he's a dragon like i said. until. har har.

at about a year old greggory starts mimicking the humans around him a lot better than he was before. like. he starts walking on two legs. and at first pixelle is like lol how cute and then he seriouses because oh shit what the fuck raising dragons is sort of not really that common especially not in this sort of environment. on the rare occasions they've been tamed before they've been wiled beasts and this is an ender dragon which is nigh unheard of. (Violet from arc 1 still exists but is a very difficult and separate case that doesn't apply.) so suddenly instead of a little kittycat this thang is trying to walk and grab things with his little claw hands and vocalising (he doesn't have vocal chords capable of human speech but he does little grunts and stuff it's cute.) pixelle is equal parts fascinated from a scholarly pov but also like oh my god i am not qualified at all for this what the fuuuck

this is the point that makes pixelle sit up and go ok i need to unghost myself because i cant. raise my weird son like this. (his entire ghost thing is a weird metaphor for depression and trauma and grief because all the ghosts in aoyuer are about that. so yea) and then him and greggory go do that and its a whole thing i wont get into but it leads into him entering the land that new life is set in and meeting oli again who he had kind of figured out was alive and was trying to track down but didnt expect it to happen here. and so begins their divorce arc

fun notes though: pixelle calls greggory omelette sometimes as a cute nickname! he suggested that as a name when he was still in his egg. sort of mean. also since gregg can't speak english pix learns and then teaches him sign language ^_^ at the start of new life / arc 3 he's only a basic communicator but can get his point across usually.

oli is by no means a bad dad he's just not a great one either. it's clear he tries very hard and he does love gregg. part of the reason he leaves him is BECAUSE he loves him and he recognises he's not really able to raise him and it would be unfair to drag him along wherever he plans on going post empires... but that doesn't make it right etc etc. Hes aware of that too and feels generally awful about the whole thing... His and greggorys relationship is weird and strained at the start but he tries by god does he try. And they make it work eventually. They have to get through the horrors first though.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

So happy someone else defaulted to "oh wouldn't it be funny if Mordecai lived in the caves?" lmao it would explain how he had such easy access to the armory too

Bonus points if he sometimes hits a toe on a rock/has to hunt some spider or rat and the peeps at Lackadaisy just think it's a ghost

lol yeah once i was like "hm did mordecai have enough familiarity with the cave network there to know of some Secret Entrance since he got to the armory," but earlier viktor just notices the garage entrance trapdoor was unlocked, and we've seen mordecai keep lockpicking since....but hey it doesn't mean he Can't know of any secret entrances, and have also literally cleaned out somewhere else like "actually the secrecy of living in a cave is worth the effort / inconvenience" lmao

we sure can also appreciate a Gothic Genre Analysis applied to things out here where we have a murder and a mystery (which isn't a whodunit so much as a key to all these other Secrets) which is probably this case of the [how have these instances & manifestations of violence been incited, sustained, compounded, inherited, enforced, etc....] theme manifesting in this Central Unknown with atlas lol like, someone who was at the heart of all that & Something Happened in such a way that it seemingly came back to him like "me reaping: what the fuck. this fucking sucks" but who yet knows....bunch of mysteries, conflicts, murky painful pasts and similarly threatening futures, figurative ghosts, the haunting through histories, legacies, the manifestations of established/enmeshed power that's consuming things in hidden ways &/or seemingly suddenly erupting into view when lashing out from some threat. it's so funny but also genuinely so interesting that mordecai is the one tasked with doing some [quietly kill people] but he's also like ummm. sweating. what's going on

also there's Mood & Style which is important for anything but it also helps when you pick anything up like "is this gothic?"

it's also funny, which isn't counterproductive to any genre or style or effect if you're doing anything right lol. and it's both Very Gothic and Very Funny of anyone to be living in a cave where there's already secrets, darkness, bones, more murders, and some compulsive dusting which is funny and is also "raise your hand if you're Not characterized by violences in your past that may have been both immediate and interpersonal or too vast and immense to have been meaningfully understood as being a manifestation of some individuals' actions (e.g. crowded tenement immigrant life, for one)"....and a real classic if someone thinks there's a haunting, but then it's just some guy, except maybe there was also a haunting and maybe Some Guy's haunting is also like, damn, it's Like if there was a ghost who was murdered, where this person's life could be less ghostly if they weren't figuratively killed by certain forces....this is Just like phantom of the auditorium, of goosebumps the book series, or goosebumps the musical based on the book........in turn based on the musical, based on the book, at the time disappointing some readers who were like "what do you mean it was just some guy"....oh hey, lon chaney phantom of the opera was a '25 release. i've been staying completely on track the entire time

anyways running with it yeah i think mordecai would be sufficiently Particularly Ill-Suited for enduring his cave living that it would be like, a quick scooby doo investigation's worth of solving that mystery lol. like you don't even solve it, he just gets sick of it on his own & emerges from the darkness & proceeds to Just Walk Out, He Can Leave. > if (itSucks) {hit (dabricks!!)}

on the other hand, it wouldn't be very Thematic of him, when this is all about people in an "it sucks" situation & why they (a) are in it & (b) as yet can't, won't, &/or simply haven't just walk/ed out, Real Winners Quit style

BUT....it would be funny. and mordecai's quite the flexible & active character out here, being at lackadaisy after atlas's death(tm) sucked so he just walked out (& shot viktor)....work....social thing....cops if your quick....friend ships....and now marigold goings on are also a problem so he's doing his own mystery on mystery on mystery investigation....if it weren't for how it would bother him too much, truly, he could comically get up to some secret cave dwelling and zanily make people think there's a cave ghost

[artblock-tm]

what if you talk a bit more about that gay little jester you put in a mirror that would be funny i think

i forgot his name lol hehdgdhshdgdg

Oh yeah I’ll talk more about him. I’ll GLADLY talk more about Drisco. He likes the attention, too!

Origin and Design

Drisco and his rival/counterpart/toxic yaoi partner Castarian both originated in a dream I had. While Castarian was named, Drisco wasn’t, so I had to come up with something myself. It rhymes with “disco” but my intention was to derive something from “discord”.

So he’s one of the newest, and one of my more favored designs, since I’ve gotten better at designing OCs. I only have his top half planned out, since that’s mostly what appears, and the attempt at his bottom half isn’t set in stone…. But here he is!

Maybe I’ll give him stupid little pointed shoes with bells on the end.

Story

In life, he was the jester for some nobleman- he preferred that over working for a king, because he got juuuust the right amount of attention.

While I don’t have a lot of story planned out for this world , I do have a concept for their religion/magic system. It’s heavily based on flowers and their magical or divine properties. A lot of flower-based products are sold at markets because of their importance. They can be used for protective charms, healing salves, scents, etc. Alchemy is a major factor in their scientific and magical developments.

Drisco, however, dedicated his life to studying magic dealing with blood. This magic was darker and considered taboo, but he recognized it as the other side of the coin of the holy flowers. They’re both natural substances and, if applied correctly, have magic properties, and therefore have worth to any god(s) they believed in.

So Drisco learned how to control blood. He learned summoning rituals, ways to puppeteer people, ways to cast illusions, etc. He learned what was thought unethical to figure out- what the worth of a human soul is.

He studied this in the shadows of his jester life. Every so often he’d make trips into the forest to gather materials and stop at towns to put on a show. He met Castarian that way- in a fae-riddled forest. I might talk about the circumstances of their meeting and their complicated relationship sometime else; there’s a lot to it.

Anyway. Drisco eventually got caught studying this sinful magic. And so, he was executed, and just to make extra sure he couldn’t cause more harm, his spirit was cursed into a mirror. (Castarian died as a result of his death, too. Again, it’s complicated.)

The mirror was transported to an abandoned fort and covered with a cloth. Drisco, sentient as a spirit, couldn’t see out of the mirror with it covered. He spent centuries in darkness… and as someone who’s so fond of attention, that… that wore him down a little.

But he did discover he could control the interior of the mirror. It could become any scene he liked! He could simulate any place he wanted- outdoors, indoors, doesn’t matter! But the frame of the mirror always stays the same amount of space behind him, no matter how far it looks like he’s gone. And nothing is real in the worlds he create- he can’t feel the sun on his skin or breathe in fresh air anymore.

One day, the mirror was uncovered. And he was overjoyed. Immediately he started talking to the person who uncovered the mirror- only to quickly discover they couldn’t see him. And again, his hopes fell.

But even as they left, the mirror stayed uncovered. He could finally glimpse the room he was left in! It was… dusty and old and in the process of being cleaned up as a tourist space, but it was better than a black nothingness!

He also learned that Castarian, as a ghost, hangs out in the same fort. Somehow, as a spirit, he’d followed Drisco here and hadn’t left his side. At first, Drisco was touched…until he learned that it was because Castarian blamed him for his death and had waited all this time to yell at him. Whatever friendship they had dissolved as they argued.

Drisco is furious at Castarian (again, for complicated reasons), and wants his revenge. It’s a little hard to avenge oneself when one is trapped in a mirror, though…

As more and more people trickle through the not-so abandoned fort, Drisco realizes that some people can see him. He talks to those people, and starts to manipulate them. He gets them in their own for a while and puts on an entertaining show- perhaps with lights set up in the background of the mirror and a giant wheel of fortune, all modern game show things with a medieval twist!

But he always rigs the games and cheats to win. Every single one of his participants dies after losing enough games and being forced to do a favor for him. Slowly he gains more power with every death, having his players draw their own spell circles on the ground that will spell their demise and give the value of their soul, blood, and flesh to Drisco.

And he loves it. It only he could get back at Castarian….

Other Notes

If I could fully figure out the mechanics of Drisco’s game show, I think he’d be VERY fun to roleplay, especially if everything was left up to chance.

Despite his sadistic demeanor, Drisco had actually been very lonely. His shows are not only spectacular because he’s fruity, he’s also trying to capture your attention and make you stay. He only kills people he gets bored with- or if they had some really, really bad luck in his games.

And speaking of him being fruity, this man is gay. That’s right, he’s one of them homosexuals. He has a crush on Castarian (but it’s more of an obsession), but if you get on his good side and stick around a lot… he might get attached to you. I think he could definitely settle for more than one partner.

Unfortunately, he’s well aware that he’s good-looking and that people want to kiss him. And he WILL use this to manipulate people. But interact at your own risk.

Also when he gets mad, I think he should be allowed to look increasingly demonic, as a treat.

I made a drawing of him recently that’s my current Discord pfp!

TW: Some blood

That’s all!

…for now. Knowing him, this won’t be the last time I talk about him.

[dreadfuldevotee]

Today, I let myself be a bit nerdy and fan-ish and listened to the ep of David Tennant's podcast that he did with Jodie Whittaker just as like, a bit of background noise and cuz I thought they'd be a fun duo (they are).

I was not! expecting to get about 10 minutes in before I had to sit on the floor and Cry a bit because Jodie casually shattered my heart into a million pieces. Not because what she said was sad itself, but it made me realize what I've been doing and the root behind something that's been sitting on my soul for the past couple of years.

I'll give you the cliff notes, cuz leading up to the sentence is like 3 different anecdotes (which is a Mood). but basically, in specific regard to persuing acting but applicable to really anything, not having some backup plan. That you are a cat with 9 lives and you should put everything into that "first life" and go after it while youre energetic and willing. If it fails- well then you tried and you've experienced something but its not the end of the world and can go off and try again with the next "life".

It was just so astounding to me! Its such a simple concept and one I've heard put in similar ways to me when I was applying for acting programs as a highschooler, but the difference is the belief and the kind of cavalier nature of it. Actors will always say "if you can imagine doing anything else go do that". Even when they're telling you it's all or nothing, they're actively trying to psych you out, or act like your world will end. And as the shakey ass, mentally ill teenager I was faltered and got so afraid. But never because I was scared of never working or it not panning out, but just so ashamed of myself- that the Thing that's Missing In Me was the cause of doubt in everyones tone. Was why all the support in my life had that deep under current of "run for the hills, get out while you can".

And so I did. I flaked out on all my acting auditions, broke down in tears infront of my voice teacher and ghosted her, never saw my acting coach again and I switched gears completely to go into costuming. Which, I should say, I do love. Its a genuine passion and anyone whos talked to me- and especially anyone who's seen me in my day to day know that I am a certified Clotheswhore™️. But also I'd go into tech on shows and get so envious, it'd bring me to tears. I'd sob through any show and just listening to cast recordings would put me in such a deep depression. I would day dream about being on the otherside of my fittings, about being the kind of actor that my friends and I thought were the "Good Ones". As much as I loved what I was doing, I was always dreaming of something else.

I think the fact that I loved it so much helped me forget that it wasn't really what I wanted, though. I said to a friend like a week ago! that I had stopped listening to show tunes because it depressed me. Which is just? so sad? I have boxes of playbills that I've collected and gotten signed and going to the theater was something I adored. I made so many friends because I was Such An Annoying Theater Kid on both here and twitter and I think that kid would be so mortified that this thing that I still love brings me such pain right now.

This is kind of a shitty revelation to be having right now tho, because I actually still have a semester left of my degree and school is already hard enough before I'd come to realization that I'm only here in this program because I severely hate myself and was too afraid to do what I actually wanted. It was so heartbreaking to me, because I had this immediate wash of "What have I done? Have I made a horrible mistake? is it all too late, did I squander my time?" Theres something to be said about classical education or just any acting education. Most everything I know is my own personal snobbery and Autistic Affliction, but I dont know what thats worth in reality.

A Lot of this can be summed up in "20 smth feels like life is over if you dont have it figured out by graduation" and ik that's silly and untrue at heart. But I felt it then at 15 the way I do now at 21- That theater is a true love of my life and that I've been in a kind of agony being away from it that I wasnt prepared for.

I dooon't know what that means or what that says about me or even what the fuck to do with this information now that its been beat across my head. The self hate is still there. I still feel a burning shame whenever I become aware of how honest I'm being about myself where other people can see. But I think I'll die unhappy if I never tried. I don't want it to be a casual thing because its never been a casual love for me. I could be so happy sewing in my freetime or only doing it as something to keep bills paid but I would want acting to consume my life. I want to take it seriously and squander all other prospects to keep fueling it.

[marshmallowsqoosh]

[Ghost (Band) | Overheated (preview)]

I actually write a lot more than I post lmao. idk if people would be interested in the disjointed stuff but here’s what happens when sentient marshmallows have bad days. They write violence with little to not context. Just a matter of whether or not they bully Terzo and Omega or Sodo and Aether. ...Or others, I’m being bribed towards Swiss and Rain and various other combinations. (Read: Sqoosh is a weak ho) also constantly forgetting dewther applies to what i write because i don’t use dew unless i’m specifically writing when he’s bassist or someone requests i use it jfpaslkfasdf

Anyways, here, have some Era 4 Ghouls with Sodo having a Not Great Time

word count. ~750 warnings. headcanon, author uses sodo instead of dew, implied aether/sodo if you squint, minor swearing, ghouls have magicks, super short scribble

♥

Rain grabs him first, trying to cool the overheating, even when contact immediately makes smoke sizzle from both of them, "Sodo, stop, just calm down—"

Holding him at arm's length is the only thing that keeps Sodo from getting his fangs into Rain's arms or neck; he still tries to yank himself free, his entire torso heaving with the unsteady breaths. The veins of fire spread from his face, down to his neck and disappear into his uniform. His claws are heating up, but he either hasn't figured out to turn his hands upwards to claw at Rain or he actually doesn't want to hurt him. It's only then—as the struggling becomes more forceful, even when Rain's claws dig into his arms to try keeping him still—they finally realise the veins spread up to his horns. The right one burns, hot, the same as his claws and the tip of his tail; the left one—the clipped one—burns and begins to bleed a steady trickle, like a thin stream of lava. If it hurts, he doesn't let onto it, clearly more preoccupied with the pain of Rain trying to cool him down and just being overheated to begin with.

Rain's forced to let go—a slur of curses under his breath as he pulls both hands back to his body, tucking them tight against his sides—and he hastily backs up before claws or fang find their way into him, "Fuck—sorry—"

Swiss gets a hold of him before he launches at the bassist, getting both of his arms under Sodo's to pull him back, lift him off the ground, and locks his hands behind his head to keep him from headbutting back like he normally does and keep him from snapping at the arms restraining him. He can't get any purchase with the way he tries to thrash around to get free, snarl still building in his throat. "I got him, Rainy—go find Ifrit or the girls or—fuck, I'd take Mounty at this point, just go find one of the others—Sodo, calm down, I'm trying not to hurt you—"

The multi mix of fire and quintessence seems to be helping; but, it's also pretty clear that Swiss can't handle as much intake as an actual Fire Ghoul could. He's already expelling a substantial amount of smoke, trying to regulate his own fire and take in some of Sodo's just to get him a little less heated.

Aether's… pretty damn sure this is his fault in some capacity. It's hard to focus through the blind anger radiating from the Fire Ghoul and he knows if he gets closer it's going to get worse… but he can force him to cool off, at least. At least a little bit and not get boiled the same way Rain did. At least long enough that Cirrus or Cumulus can suffocate the flames or Ifrit can help Swiss or Mountain can get a hold on him and drag him down to the isolation chambers.

As he expects, the second he's in Sodo's field of view, he starts thrashing even harder, still not really thinking to kick back—but definitely trying to kick Aether or lash out with his tail. He screeches when Swiss mutters a quick apology and manages to trap the tail under his boot, at least able to put the fire out between platform and boot so it doesn't spread to the rest of the room. Aether takes the short distraction—Sodo spitting violent curses and hopefully empty threats at Swiss—to press up to Sodo, motioning for Swiss to let go and back up as he does, and holds him as tight as he can. He expects the tail thrashing and the spade cutting at his arms; Sodo trying to push himself free; and, when he fails to get away, sinking his claws in and biting down in an attempt to get Aether to put him down.

Aether just holds him tight, one arm around his waist and the other pushing against his upper back so his hand is knotted in Sodo's hair—he'll apologise later, he's sure he's pulling at it—and keeping the Ghoul in place as he bites down. "It's okay… get it out of your system, I've got you, Sodo. I've got you."

He's warmer than expected. Aether can feel his own body struggling to keep up with balancing out the awful sensation of overheating, but he just holds tight, still trying to talk him through calming down until Rain gets back.

[tomeandflickcorner]

Episode Review- The Real Ghostbusters: Baby Spookums

I probably should take some time to discuss something before I begin the actual review for this particular episode.  The show The Real Ghostbusters can probably be separated into three different ‘eras.’  The first era covers the initial 13 episodes that originally aired on ABC through the fall of ‘86.  The second era consisted of the show’s syndicated package, which included the 65 episodes of the show’s second season.  But then, we got the third and final era of the show, which we’ll refer to as the Q5 era.  For those of you who either didn’t watch this show growing up or don’t remember doing so, allow me to explain.  In 1987, since ABC was apparently lagging behind their rival networks of NBC and CBS in regards to their Saturday Morning Lineup, some network bigwigs decided to bring in a team of consultants from a research team called Q5, in the hopes that they could help come up with ways to improve their ratings.  Unfortunately, the Q5 folks ended up being living proof that simply having a fancy degree does not necessarily mean you’re smart.  And when it came time for them to offer up suggestions on how to make The Real Ghostbusters a stronger show, the changes they decided to implement seemed to be based more on their own generic idea of what a kids show was supposed to be like rather than any actual research.  For instance, the Q5 morons seemed to think that the kids watching this show were stupid and would lose interest if Slimer wasn’t on screen every second, so they decreed that Slimer had to have a more prominent role in the series moving forward.  In fact, the show’s title was changed to Slimer and the Real Ghostbusters in the show’s fourth season.  At the same time, Q5 felt that the character of Ray wasn’t benefiting the show (for some reason) and that he probably should be removed entirely. Thankfully, they didn’t actually do that, but that should give you some idea of how bad the proposed ‘fixes’ were.  However, one of the more jarring changes that Q5 forced onto the show involved the character of Janine, whose personality was completely revamped. Because I guess they didn’t think any of the little girls who might be watching the show could relate to her, or some rot like that.  Instead of the snarky, no-nonsense woman who wouldn’t hesitate to put the guys in their place when it was necessary (and even came to their rescue on occasion), Q5 decided that Janine should be a sweet, nurturing mother hen type figure, like most of the other female characters that existed in kids shows at the time.  Of course, that’s only the tip of the iceberg of idiotic changes Q5 forced upon the show. For a more in-depth discussion of Q5’s disastrous interference, I highly recommend checking out Phelan Porteous’ video on the subject.  Needless to say, the long list of changes that the network and the Q5 representatives forcibly applied left the show’s staff completely appalled.  In fact, Joe Straczynski, the main story editor who also wrote some of the show’s best episodes, actually quit in protest of these changes.  

Anyway, the reason why I’m putting this out there is because, from this point on, the episodes I’ll be reviewing for this ongoing project are all from the Q5 era.  Just something to keep in mind from here on in. Enjoy.

As this episode starts, we’re told via a car radio broadcast that there’s some kind of rare lunar eclipse happening that night, with the moon being in a planetary alignment that only happens once every three hundred years.  Of course, this rare planetary and lunar alignment causes a dimensional portal to open near Times Square, and a small pink colored ghost emerges.  It’s immediately clear that this ghost is a ghost of a baby, though the episode really doesn’t address the dark tone of such a thing.  Anyway, Baby Ghost sees a stray cat digging through a garbage can and floats over to play with the kitty, but this just results in the cat running off in fright and the trash cans falling over with a loud crash, resulting in a woman angrily shouting out the window to keep it down.  And then she starts screaming when she gets a good look at Baby Ghost. The woman’s screaming scares Baby Ghost, and she zooms away, taking refuge in the back of a limo stopped nearby.  Moments later, two larger ghosts, one purple and the other red, emerge from the open portal. It’s pretty clear that these are Baby Ghost’s parents, especially when we hear Baby Ghost call out ‘Dada!’  When the Ghost Parents see Baby Ghost in the back of the limo, they immediately start heading over, only for the limo to drive off before they can reach it.  Because the limo driver apparently didn’t hear Baby Ghost crying in the back seat. Naturally, the Ghost Parents ghosts go after the limo.

Over at the Firehouse, Egon is up doing some work in studying the rare planetary and lunar alignment while the others are sound asleep.  Until Slimer crawls in bed with Peter, resulting in Peter waking up and screaming about getting slimed.  It seems that Slimer got scared after his nightlight burned out, and he went to Peter for comfort.  (Since when does Slimer use a nightlight?)  At that moment, the phone rings and Ray answers it, discovering it’s someone calling about a ghost sighting.  So the Ghostbusters immediately gear up and head out to an unnamed bridge, where they see the Ghost Parents searching various cars for their missing baby.  Right away, Egon remarks that these ghosts are behaving quite strangely, but they quickly dismiss it as just a weird side effect of the eclipse and open fire on the Ghost Parents.  However, this proves to be ineffective, and the Ghost Parents are able to evade the Proton Streams and fly off.  At this, the Ghostbusters essentially just shrug their shoulders and decide to head home. And Slimer randomly molds the slime atop his head to form a police hat in order to urge the cars on the bridge to drive off.  Because I guess the writers thought this would be funny.

As the Ghostbusters get into the Ecto-1 to return to the Firehouse, they notice a strange sound coming from under the hood as Winston tries turning on the engine.  Upon investigating the sound, Winston literally comes nose to nose with Baby Ghost.  Acting on instinct, the Ghostbusters all take aim at Baby Ghost, but Slimer gets in the way, effectivly shielding Baby Ghost.  I guess the implication is that Slimer, being a ghost himself, was able to recognize this ghost was only a baby before any of the Ghostbusters could pick up on that, but it still is a bit weird.  Before long, the Ghostbusters decide to bring Baby Ghost back to the Firehouse for safekeeping, coming to the conclusion that the two ghosts on the bridge were aggressively trying to chase Baby Ghost down, and that Baby Ghost was hiding from them.  (Question- Why didn’t Baby Ghost see her parents when she sought refuge under the Ecto-1’s hood?  I mean, the Ecto-1 had a prime vantage point of the bridge where the Ghost Parents were searching.  All she had to do was look a little bit to the left.)

Back at the Firehouse, Janine and the Ghostbusters are all fawning over Baby Ghost.  They decide that they’ll need to come up with something to call her, and Egon suggests Spookums, sheepishly admitting that was what his mother used to call him when he was little.  They then proceed to give Spookums some milk and cookies.  Slimer, upon seeing one more cookie on the plate, tries to take it, but Janine admonishes him, saying he needs to share before giving the last cookie to Spookums.  (Um, Janine?  I could be wrong, but doesn’t sharing cookies kinda require everyone to get at least one cookie?  I’d hardly call it sharing if Spookums gets all the cookies and Slimer gets none.) Anyway, the Ghostbusters decide to head back out to locate the Ghost Parents, who they still believe are aggressive ghosts.  Slimer starts to follow them, but Janine stops him, tasking him with watching Spookums while she heads down to the basement to conduct an equipment check. Once Janine is out of the room, Spookums sees Ray’s Stay-Puft doll sitting at the base of a stack of crates marked ‘fragile.’  (Don’t ask me who put that doll there and why.)  In her haste to get the doll, Spookums ends up knocking a bunch of papers and such off Janine’s desk, and even upsets the stack of crates.  Acting quickly, Slimer moves to try and hold up the crates to keep them from falling.  But that’s when Janine returns.  She immediately shouts at Slimer, which startles him enough to let go of the crates, causing them all to fall.  Janine, not wasting any time, instantly blames Slimer for the mess. Which is obviously not fair since she clearly saw him trying to prevent the crates from falling, and it was only her shout that broke his concentration.  Slimer tries to explain what happened, but this seems to make Janine even angrier, with her scolding him for trying to blame Spookums for the mess.  Janine then scoops up Spookums and brings her into the kitchen for some ice cream, instructing Slimer to clean up the mess. Sometime later, Spookums pops out of a grate in the wall in an attempt to playfully scare Slimer.  Her attempt works, with a startled Slimer literally bouncing around the room before passing though the door to the fridge, resulting in him getting covered with food.  Once again, when Janine steps into the room, she immediately jumps to conclusions and yells at Slimer for pigging out the moment her back was turned.

Folks, this is when I started getting annoyed with the episode.  Hadn’t Janine learned her lesson after the incident with Victor in Victor the Happy Ghost?  Apparently not, as she’s once again instantly blaming Slimer for things without actually listening to his side of the story.  Yeah, I get that Spookums is a baby, but… isn’t creating messes and getting into places they’re not supposed to be in what babies excel at?

Meanwhile, the Ghostbusters are still out chasing after the Ghost Parents, still under the impression that they were after Spookums for malignant purposes.  (They really should have entitled this episode ‘Jumping to Conclusions.’)  Of course, the Ghost Parents prove to be difficult to capture, and the Ghostbusters even accidently damage the Ecto-1 during their attempts, resulting in it getting carried off by a tow truck.  They eventually do capture the Ghost Parents in a Ghost Trap, and the bystanders all instantly crowd around the Ghostbusters to express their thanks.

While this is going on, Slimer is getting increasingly annoyed by Spookums’ antics.  When he tries to lay down for a nap, Spookums starts to loudly play around with the firepole, keeping Slimer awake.  In response, Slimer pushes a box full of toys in front of Spookums, instructing her to play quietly.  Of course, Spookums forgets what ‘quiet’ means almost immediately, and begins to loudly play with a toy airplane all over the Firehouse’s sleeping quarters.  Losing his patience, Slimer firmly sets Spookums down and gives her a stern talking to. But this just ends up upsetting Spookums, and she proceeds to float out the window without anyone noticing.  This ends up being really bad timing, as the Ghostbusters return a short time later, carrying the loaded Ghost Trap with the Ghost Parents inside.  After an attempt to add humor to the episode, with Janine briefly thinking the ‘one casualty’ Peter was mentioning was Egon instead of the damaged Ecto-1, Egon remarks the ghostly wails coming from the loaded Ghost Trap sound strangely familiar. Slimer, who chooses that moment to enter the scene, is able to identify the Ghost Parents as Spookum’s parents just by listening to their wails.  And the Ghostbusters are all ‘Ah, of course! That makes sense!’  With the misunderstanding cleared up, the Ghostbusters release the Ghost Parents from the trap, assuring them that they have their missing baby, and that she’s safe and sound.  Egon also takes readings of the Ghost Parents, determining that they’re from another dimension, and that a portal to that dimension must have opened because of the eclipse.  However, this is when Slimer, who was sent to bring Spookums downstairs, realizes the little baby ghost had wandered off.  So the Ghost Parents head off to find Spookums, as does Ray and Peter (who announce they’re borrowing Janine’s car since the Ecto-1 is still out of commission).  As for Egon and Winston, they head off to locate the dimensional portal, with the knowledge that the portal will close once the eclipse is over.

Slimer also heads out to look for Spookums, apparently feeling guilty for scolding her.  Not that he should feel too guilty, as he was probably the only one being a responsible caregiver.  I mean, all Janine really did was fill Spookums up with cookies and ice cream.  Which you’re not really supposed to do with babies.  I’m no expert on child rearing, but even I know you shouldn’t fill a kid up on sweets.  Eventually, Slimer finds Spookums crying in an alleyway.  Spookums, still remembering how Slimer scolded her, starts to run off again, until Slimer tells her that they found her parents.  Upon hearing that, Spookums immediately starts shouting ‘Mama!  Dada!” Her cries are not only heard by the Ghost Parents, but by Ray and Peter as well.  And so, Spookums is reunited with her parents at last.  But it’s not over yet.  Because when Ray radios Winston and Egon, they’re told that they located the portal near Times Square, but it’s starting to close.  So Peter, Ray, Slimer, Spookums and the Ghost Parents all get into Janine’s car (it’s clearly a tight fit) and book it over to Times Square.  They arrive in the nick of time, with Egon and Winston straining to hold the portal open with crowbars.  And the Ghost Parents and Spookums all return to their home dimension.  Though Spookums nearly spoils things by hanging back to bid a personal goodbye to Slimer.  Regardless, they all make it safely through the closing portal just in time.  And the episode ends with the Ghostbusters patting themselves on the back for ensuring the Ghost Parents and Spookums were able to reunite and return home.  They then all give each other high-fives, though Slimer leaves a coat of slime on everyone’s hand, much to their annoyance.

While the concept of a dimensional portal being opened up during an eclipse is an interesting concept to explore, it was still a bit frustrating to have to watch Janine automatically blame Slimer for every single mishap, and the Ghostbusters to not even consider the notion that the Ghost Parents were Spookums parents until Slimer spelled it out for them.  You’d think that Egon, at the very least, would have noticed their ectoplasmic frequency or whatever was nearly identical.  You can really tell that this is the point where they started to dumb the show down for little kids.  The truly scary thing is the knowledge that it’s all downhill from here.

(Click here for more Ghostbusters reviews)

[sinsandsuccubus]

K.O - Jack Harlow

Context: I guess football is in season.

Genre: angst, happy ending

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairings: Jack Harlow X Fem!Reader

-

Masterlist ☽☾

                                          ☽ ☾

Sun shining, skin glistening, all wonderful things you were currently experiencing at the moment. Your hair looked beautiful in the wind, and the bathing suit you had picked for the evening showed off your figure beautifully, as well as your complexion.

Weeks ago, Jack had decided to rent out part of a beach for a “Dedicated Day of Relaxation” before he left for tour.

Well, that’s what he called it.

You were currently straddling his back on the comfy lawn chair, applying the last amount of sunscreen to his back.

“Mamas, I think that’s enough.”

“Mmm, nope. Never too much when it comes to you. Don’t want you out here lookin like Mr. Krabs now do we?”

“You’re such a bully sometimes.” He turned his head to look at you, to which you tilted yours and give a sly grin in response.

“That’s the point. I mean, someone has to wear the pants in the relationship. And it damn sure ain’t you.”

“You weren’t saying that last night when I had you screaming my name because I wouldn’t stop edging you.” He responded with a smirk, forcing you to pause to find a comeback.

You couldn’t find one.

“Touché.”

“Mhmm.”

After applying basically the whole bottle, you gave him a firm smack on the back, a yelp leaving his lips as you moved off his back and he sprung to his feet, gathering you in his arms.

“That’s it, I’ve had enough of you!” He announced, throwing you over his shoulder, stomping over to the ocean.

“What, baby, please. I just got my hair done. And-and I promise I won’t make fun of you anymore! Come on, Jackman, please!”

“I’ll call your stylist and book you a new appointment.” And with that he threw you in the water, your head springing up as you wiped the water off your face, throwing your middle finger up at Jack.

“Screw you, Jackman!”

“A little later baby!” He laughed as a walked away, forcing you to chuckle under your breath.

Damn you loved that man.

After reaching the beach and drying not only yourself off, but your hair, you moved to look for your boyfriend.

However, not without stopping by the bar to get a drink.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing here?”

“Just enjoying the sunshine.” You spoke to the bartender as he eyed you up and down, clearly looking at you like a piece of meat.

“Not only is she enjoying the sunshine, but she’s also enjoying the time with her boyfriend.” You heard a woman speak, turning your head slightly to meet the eyes of Neelam.

“Well, I don’t see him here.”

“He’s the host.” Neelam responded, and from that, it looked like the man had seen a ghost. Apparently Jack’s.

“Oh.”

“I’ll take a Captain Bahama Mama please.” You announced cheerfully as the tender went right to work, you cocking your eyes at Neelam.

“You know you didn’t have to do that.”

“And have Jack practically shit his pants? No, thank you.”

“Speaking of Jack, where is he?”

“Near the front of the hut, talking to some guys.”

You grabbed your drink from the bartender, taking a sip before making a face in delight.

“Oh, that’s some good shit. Neelam, can you please make sure this man gets a good tip?”

“Noted.”

“Thank you so much!” You gave her a hug as you sauntered your way over to Jack, immediately spotting his tall, pale figure.

Thank god you had invested in that sunscreen.

Reaching the area, you squeezed your way through some people, glancing over at your boyfriend. You moved to put your hands around his neck for a surprise kiss when suddenly everything went black.

Ringing filled your ears and your head spun as you tried to open your eyes, your body feeling moist and sticky. You could hear voices from all around you, however, you distinctively heard Jack’s.

“Why the fuck would you tackle her dude? That’s my girlfriend!”

Oh, so you got tackled. No wonder your body felt like dead weight.

Trying to sit up, you let out a groan, light flooding your vision as you opened your eyes slowly.

“She’s up everyone! Make room! Make room!” You heard a voice, which sounded like Urban’s, announce to the crowd, taking note to the change in atmosphere around you. You heard movement in the sand, your body flinching as a hand landed on you softly.

“Baby, are you okay?

“M’sore.” You mumbled as you tried to sit up fully, pain radiating from your ankle and side. You let out a gasp as you tried to fight the pain.

“Fuck baby, don’t move. Someone, call an ambulance!” Jack yelled out. He turned to you with a concerned look on his face, fingers shakily stroking your cheek.

“You’re shaking baby.”

“Don’t start with me Y/N, this isn’t funny.”

“I’m just trying to lighten the mood Harlow.”

“Why are you trying to be funny when you literally got smacked into the sand?”

“Because it makes it easier to deal with the pain. And come on, you love it.” You spoke softly, wiggling your eyebrows. Jack let out a laugh, the sound of sirens roaring over his voice. The last thing you remembered was his voice telling you everything was going to be okay.

Then you blacked out.

                                          ☽ ☾

“Alright Ms. Y/N. Looks like you have two fractured ribs and a sprained ankle. The good thing is, they should heal on their own, with the exception of your ankle, which we wrapped up. The bad news is, you’re gonna be on crutches for 4-6 weeks.” Your mouth remained agape as you looked at the doctor, eyes blown out of their sockets.

“What the hell do you mean 4-6 weeks?!”

“Y/N!”

“It’s okay Mr. Harlow. Ms. Y/N, I understand your concern, however, this could be a lot worse. Your ankle closely missed the chance of being broken, which would have put you out for 6-10 weeks. Be grateful.” You gave the doctor a stank face, to which Jack pinched your side in response.

“Any other questions?”,

“No doctor, thank you so much for your patience.” Jack spoke for you, covering your mouth with his hand.

“Good good. Someone will be in to give you your crutches. Please use them anytime you’re moving or using your gait. If you don’t use them and put pressure on the ankle, you’ll be down longer. Baths only! You can rewrap the ankle once you’re out of the tub. Also make sure to take the medication as prescribed, and with meals. If you have any other questions, don’t hesitate to call.” And with that the doctor stepped out of the room, leaving you and Jack alone.

“How are you feeling Y/N?”

“Sore. But otherwise, I’m fine. Well, hungry. Could we stop and get some McDonalds on the way back to the hotel?” At that moment the nurse walked in, handing you your crutches as well as your prescriptions.

Jack helped you slip on his sweatpants and extra shirt, him aiding you in the hobble to his Jeep, hoisting you into the passenger seat. He closed your door before jogging over to his side, starting the car, and driving off.

“Of course we can. Anything for you.” He spoke softly as he grabbed your hand, kissing your knuckles.

“Where’s everyone else?”

“I left Neelam and Urban to handle shutting the party down. I told them I’d update them on your status as soon as the doctor looked you over.”

“And the bodyguard who tackled me?”

“Fired on the spot. Apparently, he wasn’t informed about you being there.”

“Maybe he wasn’t.”

“Bullshit. Because I was there when everyone was told. I don’t know what the fucker was on, but it’s been handled.” You looked over at your boyfriend who was red in the face, different from the other parts of his body.

“I see you’re not sunburned.”

“You’re over there with two fractured ribs and a sprained ankle and you’re talking about me getting sunburned?”

“Mhm. That sunscreen did wonders. Gotta buy some more of that.”

“I swear sometimes, baby…”

“Hey, you love me.” You looked over at him with a smile, which he reciprocated.

“That I do.” He leaned over and swiftly kissed your cheek, focusing back on the road.

“Good to know. Now, to McDonalds we go!”

“Aht, you didn’t say it back.”

“Say what back?”

“That you love me.”

“Oh, I love me too Jack.”

“Y/N… baby… I will pull over this car right now.”

“You won’t.”

Jack began to slow down the car, his foot leaving the gas.

“OKAY OKAY! I love you! Gosh, now keep driving.” You demanded with a laugh, to which Jack joined, the two of you making your way down the highway.

-

Tags ♡︎

@heavyhitterheaux

@vegan4jack

@velvetstreets

@harlowsbby

@harlowcomehome

@raelorns21

@jackharlowsbabe

@harlowthot

@hoodharlow

@lcandothisallday

@pianoisland

[phoenixyfriend]

Rey Gives No F*cks About the Grandfather Paradox

Okay so since nobody’s suggested a fic under these terms, I ended up expanding on this post on discord and things snowballed. We kept to the basics of the entire plot revolving around Rey really hating her grandad and leveraging her blood relation to not be unalived about it.

With contributions by @atagotiak​, @dracothulhu​, @thepallaspalace​, and several others. The title comes from @gelpenss​.

The basic thing I absolutely need is this: Rey gets thrown back to the middle of the clone wars, and the subsequent plot leans in really heavily on her being, genetically-via-clone-dad, the daughter of the guy running the entire galaxy.

Nobody knows what to do with her.

The timing is mid-TCW for the past (because I want Ahsoka there) and vaguely between Episodes 8 and 9 because I... never watched E9 and don’t want to worry about the timeline. The only things that matter is that Luke is dead (he can die as he did in canon) and that Rey knows she’s Palp’s granddaughter (not the way she does in canon).

We'll say Luke found out from Anakin's panicked force-ghost and just went "well, fuck, okay, I should tell her this before she ends up in a situation like mine and finds out mid-battle or something."

Luke, prior to time-travel: Okay, so, now that I'm dead I know some things I didn't before. Like who your parents were. In the interest of full disclosure because I was in a very similar situation and I don't want you learning the way I did, I'm just going to come right out and say that your father was a clone was Sheev Palpatine. Rey: ... Luke: Are you okay? Rey: I don't know who that is.

(She grew up on Jakku, the history education was a little subpar.)

Setting The Scene

Imagine Rey showing up during or immediately before the clone wars. There’s this phenomenally powerful feral teenager from a desert backwater who tells you that if you ran a paternity test, it would probably pop up the Chancellor. She may or may not bring up cloning. She accuses said Chancellor of being a Sith Lord.

Your other phenomenally powerful feral teenager from a desert backwater, who may not be a teenager anymore but only barely, is very offended by this because Palpatine’s a Very Nice Old Grandfather Figure, but also he’s a little full of side-eye because if the blood test comes back as proof, then Palpatine had a kid and didn’t even know about them, or lied to Anakin, and that’s! Bad! Family’s important!!!

Palpatine hears about this daughter he apparently? Has? And is very confused because the timing doesn’t match up with ANYTHING he was doing, so the kid isn’t natural, and he says as much. (There is an explanation! It’s not a correct explanation, but he does come up with one.)

Finn and Poe and BB-8 all get dragged along because why not have the gang there? Nobody that’s already born, because [handwave] conservation of souls or something, IDK, point is the only person dragged along that’s even remotely close to already existing is Luke’s Force Ghost, who mostly hangs around begging Rey to be less impulsive. Finn is good because he is a nice polite boy, but for actual useful information they need Poe. The unfortunate situation is that the three do not land together. They land at the same time, in completely different corners of the galaxy. This means that nobody is there to curb Rey being her most impulsive self.

Time travel Rey knows two things. Luke’s dad ends up evil. Palpatine has always been evil.

She can solve one of these problems by killing the other, yes?

Rey: Ready to Rumble

See, the initial idea was this: Rey tried to break into the senate to kill Palpatine, got arrested, and then used the "he's biologically my father" card to get out of jail free. (Force Ghost Luke follows her like “please take five seconds to think this through.”)

But.

But.

It would be very, very, very funny if The Force just dumps her in a flash of light in the senate building and she just attacks Gramps on sight. Just a shouted "YOU!" and no-hesitation attempted murder.

Palpatine has no idea what's going on.

Rey took maybe two seconds to get identity confirmation and then started swinging.

[Image Description: An individual in a green metal helmet with an eye slit, holding a pistol. In the upper left, upper right, and lower middle are the phrases “I do not know who I am...” “I don’t know why I’m here” and “All I know is that I must kill.” End description.]

Of course, she gets arrested. There are Master Jedi in the Senate. There are Clone Troopers. Palpatine isn’t the weak old man he pretends to be. Of course she’s stopped.

But she isn’t executed in time for Palpatine to stop her from ruining his entire reputation.

Immediately after Rey fails to kill her Shitty Granddad, Luke's ghost shows up and begs her to not talk about the Sith thing because it will completely undermine everything she's trying to do. Pass off the attempted murder as something else!

Rey, panicking: "that fucker left me on a desert planet for 10 years!" "You owe me 19 years of child support you son of a Hutt!"

The Jedi have to do the investigation, because the girl showed up with a laser sword, and the conversation is, uh... interesting. (“Where did you get that lightsaber?” “I got it from a mysterious old pirate lady I never met before. I don't know, I was being shown around by a smuggler and a Wookie.”)

Interviewer: Why did you try to assassinate the Chancellor? Luke: Say it wasn't assassination. Rey: It wasn't assassination. Int: You weren't trying to kill him? Luke: Assassination has to be politically motivated. Rey: This was, um... not political. Assassination is political, right? Int: You mean this was personally motivated? Rey: Yes. Int: I see. What personal motivation? Luke: Jakku! Rey: He's my grandfather. Int: ... Rey: Possibly father. Nobody was very clear on that. Int: ... Luke: Tell them to run a paternity test. Rey: Oh hey, a blood test would tell us which, right? Int: ............ Rey: I spent ten years as an orphaned scrapdealer on Jakku. He's my father. I'm kind of a little angry. Int: ........... Luke: Good job, kid. You bought yourself some time. Int: I'm going to get a medic to see about that parternity test.

Obviously, it comes back positive. Congratulations, Sheev, you’re the father.

Rey comes with a ready-made built-in excuse for hating Palpatine that nobody can question or fault her for!

Rey, pouring Truth into the Force: I didn't even know I was related to the Chancellor until a few months ago, but it's his fault I grew up the way I did, and he should take some responsibility!

The entire thing is mostly kept hush hush but someone leaks it to the press and Palpatine's ratings tank.

"Chancellor, I think we'll need to waive family visitation until she wants you a little less dead." "I would like to find out why she wants me dead, and indeed, where she came from." "...sir, for your own safety--"

Who would win? A master plan years in the making spanning decades of manipulating and work? or One (1) paternity test

"Okay, so, Rey Palpat--" "Ew, no, I don't want his name." "You--okay. Sure, we can understand that. Is there a name you would prefer to put on the paperwork?" Rey, who would have gone by Skywalker in honor of Luke but can't do that when Anakin is right there and all: "Can I think about it?"

Rey: I don't know what I want my last name to be but I know I don't want his, and most of the people I’d want a name from have famous families like you... Luke's ghost, pointing out the Literal Nobody that she cares about a lot: How about Solo? Rey: ...Solo, then.

(A few months later she runs into Poe again and he offers for Finn and Rey to both take his name because honestly they need SOMETHING but at that point she’s already decided on Smuggler Dad.)

Backtrack a bit. We’ve got a bigger cast.

They all arrive separately. Poe, for one, does better than Rey, who is aiming for a murder, but not quite as well as Finn, who is currently being adopted and hidden like a secret cat by a bunch of Alpha Clones on Kamino. He vibes with the names-or-numbers thing. He doesn’t necessarily tell them where and when he’s from, but he’s very sweet and a great liar and they adopt him wholesale anyway.

The Finn situation is just... "Buir Ti, we need you to hide this man, we've decided he's our little brother but if Nala Se finds out she'll make him leave."

Of course, this leads into Shaak Ti teaching Finn how to Jedi.

Maybe consider Finn needing to almost be tricked into learning Jedi things because he willfully forgets it could apply to him. Finn does not like to think of himself as special, which is super valid, but frustrating for Shaak Ti when it comes to, you know, getting him to acquire knowledge. Finn's training at some point is "here, levitate objects with the Force to entertain the tubies." It’s a lot easier to convince him to practice when it involves the babies.

(Everyone on Kamino looked at Finn and went “oh I love him I’m keeping him and teaching him things.”)

(He’s just very lovable.)

Poe, meanwhile, buys the trust of Anakin Skywalker via R2D2 declaring BB-8 the absolute most baby of droids. R2D2 met BB-8 three hours ago but.

"Hey Obi-Wan this is Poe I met him like five days ago but R2D2 says he checks out because his droid is a baby." "That's nice, Anakin, did you know the Chancellor has a daughter who tried to assassinate him in broad daylight yesterday? Because guess who had to stop the Chancellor from getting assassinated by his daughter in broad daylight yesterday."

A summary so far:

Finn, on Kamino: Hey, um, I don't know where this is, but it's not where I was a few minutes ago. Do you think you could get me a comm? What's your name? Poe, on [dice roll] Denon: Oh, hey, you're General Skywalker? Nice to meet you, I'm so sorry about my droid, she's a little excitable and thought your R2 unit looked like a friend of hers-- Rey, on Coruscant: DIE, GRANDFATHER

Finn: [Peacefully vibing on Kamino, unaware of the chaos and bonding with the clones] Poe: [Trying to explain how he knows someone who tried to kill the chancellor and defend Rey] Rey: [Arrested for trying to kill the chancellor]

Just... just...

Anakin: Some guy ended up lost on base yesterday with his droid, how’s your day going? Obi-Wan: I had to stop someone who claims to be the chancellors daughter from murdering the chancellor after she seemingly blinked into existence in the Senate building. Poe: 😐

(Poe: Oh, so that's where Chaos^2 went.)

Poe: In her defense, she is his... well we don't know if she's his daughter or granddaughter, but she's definitely related to him, and she definitely grew up in a shitty situation that was his fault, so...

(Poe is trying very hard to explain this and not get arrested on the military base.)

As you’ve probably guessed, what's especially funny about all of this for me is the fact that Palpatine is fully aware that this girl shouldn't exist, but can't find a single piece of evidence about where she came from. He didn't start any experiments that could result in a female child, and he didn't have sex in that period of time, so where the hell--

Rey spends so much time in jail... BUT they do eventually assign her a Jedi Master. Possibly before she actually proves her evil grandfather is in fact evil. Most votes went to either Plo Koon or Obi-Wan. Plo, because he’s dad-shaped, and Obi...

"Obi-Wan, you already raised one feral desert child with implausible amounts of power, you handle this." Rey in return is very "Sweet, you vaguely remind me of Master Luke," and nobody knows who the hell she's talking about. Obi-Wan is NOT on board with this plan, she'd really be better off with Plo or like........ Mace.

Reunion Tour

What I need out of this is the eventual Finn and Rey reunion scene that is just excited screaming while someone in the background explains to Shaak Ti that yes this is apparently Palpatine's terrifyingly force-sensitive daughter who hates him.

(Finn senses Rey’s approach and just. Gathers the everyone to wait. He’s just :D REY MY FRIEND REY GUYS MY FRIEND REY IS COMING.)

Anakin shows up with Poe--just a guy who signed on to the military, no big deal--and then Poe and Rey are EXCITED and everyone's just like "Cool, how do you know this literal terrorist child?" And Poe has to scramble and "Uhhhhhhhhhhhh she saved my droid from a scrapheap once and BB-8 is basically my child so I owe her one."

Rey knows that Anakin ends up evil so she’s maybe not actively hostile but definitely very “I’m watching you.” That said, she vibes with him on a lot of things that he maybe doesn’t actively notice.

Rey picks up a snake, snaps off the head for venom avoidance, and starts biting off chunks. Obi-Wan's reaction: [undisguised horror] Anakin and Ahsoka: Ooh, where'd you find that? (Obi-Wan: And now I’m up to three feral children.)

What Does Palpatine Even Do?

OBVIOUSLY at a certain point, Palpatine is just phoning up every ally he has to figure out who broke protocol to synthesize a daughter for him.

So of course, Palpatine blame Plagueis.

She'd have been born five or so years before Naboo, just a few years younger than Anakin. It's such an EASY theory to build a conspiracy around. It is ENTIRELY WRONG, but it’s plausible! And anyone who might have been involved to say otherwise is probably dead!

A random bio-kid shows up you can’t possibly have contributed genes to? Maybe it’s the evil bio spark that did it.

Palpatine tries to placate her with the ‘my genes were stolen for an experiment and I didn’t know’ thing. It doesn’t work because her actual main complaint is he’s evil in her future but he tries.

It'd be a struggle to even get access to her, because of the aforementioned “maybe don’t try to talk to the daughter(?) that hates you” thing, but you know who Palpatine does have access to? The Chosen One.

Rey kind of decides on her favorites early on (she gravitates to Dad Energy and Sad Old Men so Plo and Obi-Wan are on her list, and that means decent time around Anakin and Ahsoka). It's really easy to talk Anakin into helping to some degree because "he'd like to connect to a daughter he never knew" and "a child of her power on a planet like that, you'd know her struggle, my dear boy" and so on. Anakin tries to connect! He tries to play up Sheev’s kind political work and how it can’t have really been his fault! It doesn’t work. Rey does not believe a word of it. Mostly she doesn’t even seem to hear him.

Rey's just like "...oh right, you're the melted mask that Kylo Ren was always ranting about," which means absolutely NOTHING to Anakin, but he mentions it to Palps, who loses his goddamn mind trying to figure out what she's talking about, because it also means absolutely nothing to him.

Here’s the thing: Rey’s already decided that Obi-Wan is cool, because Luke said so, and Plo Koon is dad-shaped, and she also gravitates towards earnest kindness in general, like she made friends with Finn real quick, so Ahsoka? Already getting along great.

She doesn’t dislike Anakin, really, he isn’t evil yet, he’s just... meh. She’s a little suspicious and she likes him less than the others but... Anakin.

Rey, to Anakin: You are my least favorite. Anakin, to Palpatine: YOUR DAUGHTER HATES ME???

And he goes from “she’s a lil standoffish” to “she doesn’t like me” to “she hates me” as is normal for Anakin.

It’s just an escalation of this one time Palpatine wants Anakin to not have rifts and trust issues with a person, at least not until later, because he needs information.

Meanwhile, that very moment, Rey is just like "huh, nobody here is listening to me about how make a sixth-hand carburetor work, where's Luke's dad?"

Anakin is venting to Palpatine about how hard it is to talk to Rey, and she's over in the Temple just like "Hey, that guy was useful last time, I should ask him," but also she only ever thinks of him as Luke's Dad.

(At one point, Obi-Wan is having a bit of a break down, and then Anakin starts having a breakdown about that, meanwhile the clones are (badly) trying to hide Finn behind their backs, Rey is watching Ahsoka practice and being like "I want two lightsabers," and Poe is trying to keep R2 from stealing BB-8 and Force Ghost Luke is just face palming in the background.)

(Rey deserved a saber staff, maybe one that can detach and turn into a jar’kai set. Possibly a pike. Mostly I just wish she got more chances to whack things with a big stick.)

[sserpente]

A/N: So this is a much requested Part II of this Christmas Imagine which I suppose you can also read on its own. Also has requests from @keepcalmandtravelonkate and @fandom-rpblog as well as the exclusive Zoom meeting idea. Haha, enjoy everyone! ♥

Words: 1822 Warnings: fluff

Christmas Eve came sooner than you had thought and it was about as cheerful as you had imagined it. Thor greeted you with mug of steaming hot chocolate first thing in the morning, wearing the ugly Christmas sweater you had bought him last year and Tony was already in the spacious living room with Pepper to finish up the preparations for his annual Christmas party.

You spent the entire day baking biscuits and didn’t see Loki all day but for some peculiar reason you hoped that he too would attend the biggest Christmas party in New York City. Tony had invited everyone—no, that was not entirely true, the party was, in fact, for everyone—especially those who had no one else to spend Christmas Eve with or wanted to do so with none other than the famous Avengers.

With a sigh, you finished applying your red lipstick and admired yourself in the mirror. The green dress shimmering like a thousand tiny crystals had cost you way more than what you would normally spend on clothes but the occasion was worth it. You had only realised after that green was Loki’s colour too. Another sigh escaped your lips.

The God of Mischief and you had not really spoken since the roof-incident. Part of you wondered whether he was about as confused as you about what had happened between you, especially after Thor had interpreted your entanglement in a romantic manner, the other insisted you didn’t think too much of it. Loki was just… Loki. Mysterious, mischievous and handsome. Wait… handsome?

By the time you arrived at the party, more than two dozen guests had already arrived. Dressed in Christmas pullovers, suits or festive dresses much like you, they held small glasses full of mulled wine, eggnog or champagne, munching on biscuits and other Christmas treats and chatting with each other and the superheroes who had already joined the party guests, impressing them with their stories and their skills.

Your heart skipped a beat when you spotted Loki standing only a few feet away from you. Heavens, he should not be allowed to wear suits. Instead of the light version of his Asgardian signature outfit you usually saw him in, the God of Mischief was dressed in an all-black suit complimenting his raven hair and tall figure. It was perfect to blend in and not attract too much attention, for many citizens still avoided him like the plague after everything that had happened only a few years back. Your eyes met, sending waves of electricity though you, and he nodded.

You furrowed your brows when somebody spoke your name. “Is that you?” Much to your dismay, you recognised the voice immediately. It belonged to Derek, your ex-boyfriend. Derek who collected action figures of the Avengers and who owned a Captain America costume worth five-hundred dollars. Derek, who had cheated on you with other women and, upon your break-up, had blamed you for the sexual imbalance in your relationship. Needless to say, you had not exactly ended it on good terms. The last thing you wanted to do was chat to him of all people on Christmas Eve. Much rather, you’d finally spend some time with Loki again. He was fun to be around once he had warmed up to someone…

“I tried to text you like… a hundred times.”

“I saw. I blocked your number after fifty.” You retorted.

“Don’t be like that. I was going to make up, you know.”

“You literally told me it’s my fault that you went ahead and fucked other women behind my back, Derek!”

“Because you didn’t give me what I need in the bedroom, baby. We should have talked about that more. It wouldn’t happen again. Let’s talk about this. Can I get you a drink?”

“No, thank you.”

“Okay… Care to dance with me then?”

“Absolutely not.” You hissed.

“Come on. You are not here with someone, are you?”

You blinked. Fuck. Think, think, think. “Yes, actually.” You lied quickly. Your eyes fell on Loki who met your gaze again in a strange and almost affectionate way—something had definitely changed between you since he had helped you decorate the Avengers facility and you remembered, with butterflies in your belly, how he had caught you in his arms when you had fallen off the roof like a bird with broken wings. The idea came to you before you could properly think it through. Derek would never dare to defy someone like Loki. He was your perfect alibi to get rid of him.

“I’m here with my boyfriend. You probably know Loki?” Before you could change your mind, you stepped forward, closed the remaining distance between you and put your arm under Loki’s. He did not fail to react. Turning away from Thor, he frowned and stared at your linked arms, then opened his mouth to question you. Much to your relief, however, the gesture did not seem to anger him.

You shot him a pleading glance. Play along, you thought. Please, take the hint.

“Are you serious right now?” Derek spat, a both disgusted and shocked expression on his face.

Much to your surprise—or maybe not—Loki wrapped his arms around your middle then, pressing you against his strong body. Your heart skipped a beat. This felt like him cradling you in his arms like a bride, only more… intense, for this time—this time, it was actually intentional.

Loki gave Derek a glare, his lips ghosting over your forehead. “Are you alright, my sweet mortal?” My sweet mortal? “I believe you have promised me a dance.”

Derek swallowed, blinking at you a few times—and then, without a word, he shook his head and disappeared in the burbling and dancing crowd. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Good thing for you he’d always been a coward.

But while relief was flooding your veins, at the very same time, adrenaline set every single cell of your body on fire. Loki was still holding you. His lips against your skin had felt like the gentle kiss of a butterfly… You looked up, if anything not to make the situation even more awkward than it already was, given that by now, both Thor and Natasha had become rather taken aback witnesses as well.

“Thank you. I really owe you.” You muttered.

“I take it this was a former suitor of yours?”

You gave him a weak smile. “That’s a very elegant way to put it but yes, he is my ex-boyfriend. I left him when I found out he cheated on me—repeatedly. I panicked when he approached me and I knew he’d be scared of you.”

“Why thank you.” Loki replied with dismay before, much to your surprise, a smirk grew on his lips.

“No! I just meant…”

“I know what you meant. So?”

“S-so what?”

“He is still watching you. You would do well to keep up the act.” Loki said, keeping you from spinning around to check. But he was probably right either way. You had just announced in front of a bunch of strangers as well as your ex-boyfriend and two Avengers that Loki and you were dating. You were honestly surprised the Trickster did not at all seem too bothered by this very circumstance, not to mention what it meant for you. Ever since the roof-incident, you certainly didn’t mind clinging onto him like that.

“Dance with me.” He commanded softly, one of his large hands coming to rest on your waist while the other interlinked with yours. “He will lose interest if you feign easiness.”

You nodded quickly, leaning into him to not raise any suspicion and taking a deep breath when the side of your face connected with his chest. Loki rested his chin on the top of your head, weighing you gently from side to side as if the music was made of waves carrying you over an ocean. It was a classic playing right now—What are you doing New Year’s Eve by Ella Fitzgerald—sweet, calm… romantic. This evening was going in a very dangerous direction now but you couldn’t help but feel safe and protected in the God of Mischief’s arms. Who would have thought that putting up Christmas decoration together would create such a strong bond between two people… a mortal and a god on top of that?

“I got you a Christmas present, you know.” You murmured after a while.

His voice vibrated in his chest, you could feel it against your cheek. “Did you now?”

“Hmm…” He stole away your ability to speak. That was so unfair! “I was going to give it to you tomorrow morning but… would you like me to give it to you now, in private?” It would be the perfect excuse to get away from here for a bit too, even if, in better lighting, Loki would probably notice your blushed cheeks.

“Lead the way, my sweet mortal.” There it was again. Smiling up at him sheepishly, you moved a step back and took his hand, practically fleeing from the scene.

Loki remained in the doorway when you reached your room. Whether it was out of decency or respect, you couldn’t quite tell. You crossed your room with quick steps, reaching for Loki’s gift under your bed. You had wrapped it in green paper and decorated it with a golden bow. A bit of a cliché perhaps but it looked just perfect.

“Merry Christmas, Loki.” You said when you returned to him and handed it to him. He only took it hesitatingly.

“Why did you get me a gift?”

You shrugged. “I just wanted to be nice. I doubt the others will have gotten you something so I thought… just so you can unwrap something too?” You almost choked on your nervous laughter. “You know I almost decided not to give it to you after all after you almost drove me mad when I was hanging up the Christmas lights.”

Loki chuckled. “I suppose you made that consideration before I saved your life.”

“More or less...” You replied, winking at him. Hey… this isn’t so hard after all!

Your heart was pounding in your chest by the time he unwrapped it, revealing the notebook and the green and gold fountain pen you had gotten him. It even came with green ink.

“It’s not much, really, just…” You said quickly. “I keep seeing you scribbling and reading a lot and I thought…”

“Thank you.” He interrupted. Honesty swung in his smooth voice, making your heart beat faster in an instant. At this speed, you were going to need an ambulance soon.

You smiled. “I ought to thank you. Derek is a dick. You saved me twice now, I’m in your debt.”

Loki chuckled once more, looking you deeply in the eye. “Yes. I believe you are.” It was, without a doubt, a promise.

-

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente 

[old-poptart]

Hello bestie!!

So I use to have a condition where I would dislocate my kneecap and loose my ability to walk for a couple days because the muscles when into shock (I don’t have it anymore the doctors fixed it-)

But can I get a senario where Hanako is just walking with the reader and suddenly she falls and dislocates her kneecap so she tries her best to hold back tears and tries to stand up to not look weak in front of him? She tries only to fall as soon as she puts pressure on her leg-

You can choose if it’s headcanons or a oneshot!!<3

a/n: hola hermosa 😻‼️ of course you can! ur prolly gonna get this in the middle of the day cuz it's currently 4:16 am for ma lmao- anyways, onto the headcanons! (and one shot)

Hanako with an s/o who can dislocate her kneecap (female reader) 🌺:

"you need to be more careful dear, it seems that you keep falling for me more"

you were just taking a lil walk with your cute ghost boyfriend, probably talking about random stuff

but due to this condition that you have, you can dislocate your kneecap, making you loose the ability to walk for a few days. it frustrated you of course, but what can ya do

just as you were gonna say a joke, you fell flat on your face, dislocating your knee in the process

hanako was obviously worried- he attempted to help you up but you brushed him off so you can tough it out and walk to the infirmary

he's known about your condition for a bit, so he's extra worried if you dislocated you knee

"are you sure?? you just fell on your face, you probably dislocated your knee too! here, lemme pick you up to the nurse-"

you tried to pick yourself up and attempted to walk on your injured knee

this stubborn action resulted in you falling again

now the tears are coming down, at first you were holding them in to keep your tough guy persona. you finally allowed hanako to pick you up bridal style to the infirmary so you can get checked out, him planting kisses on your face as his way to say "get well"

You've had this condition for a while now, as long as you can remember. You could dislocate your kneecap, making you unable to walk for a couple days. Yeah it was a pain in the butt, but you can't help it. You just figured out how to be more cautious with how you walk or dare even do something your knee can't handle. Today, let's say you weren't as aware.

You and your beloved ghosty boyfriend were walking down the hall during transition period. You two were cracking jokes about Nene's stubby ankles, making fun of the shape of them. Just as you were gonna tell the perfect joke, your leg decided to shut your mouth and slip, making you fall flat on your face and dislocating your knee in the process. Ouch, karma amiright.

Hanako immediately kneeled down, attempting to help you up. He's known about your condition for a bit of time now, so he's even more worried if you dislocated your knee as you fell.

"I'm fine, hanako! Don't worry, I've got it" you swatted his hand away, wanting to be the tough guy. You can't seem weak in front of your strong boyfriend! You insisted on walking yourself to the nurse's office, she'll probably have you put a cheap, warm ice pack on your knee and call home. You confidently stood up and started to apply pressure on your injured leg.

Just as you attempted to take a step, you fell again, hurting your knee more than before. A stream of tears slowly filling up your eyes starts to fall down your embarrassed cheeks, drops falling onto the school floors. The first time you fell, you held back your tears to keep your tough guy persona, but now that persona said sayonara. You looked up at your boyfriend, sniffling in humiliation.

He helped you up, you still resisting a bit, and said "c'mon, I'm taking you to the nurse. i can't have my sweet darling hurt! now, hold on tight, I'm gonna pick you up"

you held onto him tightly, heat creeping up your face. he picked you up bridal style and carried you to the nurse, planting "get well" kisses on your face until you were begging for him to stop. he also accompanied you and stayed by your side until you were sent home.

THIS WAS TOO CUTE- HOPE YOU LIKED IT!

-ooga :D

[gusu-emilu]

Ship: Wei Wuxian / Wen Ning

Summary: Wei Wuxian gives Wen Ning a heartbeat, but not in the way either of them expected.

Rated T, No Warnings Apply

POV Wen Ning, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, references to WWX's poor health, First Kiss, Pining, Cuddling, Presumably Unrequited Love, or more accurately: whatever these two have going on, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, and the inherent homoeroticism of necromancy

Ch. 1/2, 6k, read on AO3 above or on Tumblr below

Wen Ning has always known that Wei Wuxian is not someone to hesitate.

The moment Wen Ning enters the Demon Subdue Palace after packing up the last sack of turnips, Wei Wuxian grabs his wrist.

“Come look!” He tugs Wen Ning deeper into the cave, slender fingers wrapped around Wen Ning’s wrist. He grins at Wen Ning over his shoulder. “I’ve made some more demonic devices, probably my best batch yet. I’d like to see the impersonators down in the town copy these!”

Wen Ning steadies his balance, not fully recovered from Wei Wuxian suddenly whisking him away.

Wei Wuxian has never hesitated to touch him. Wen Ning still isn’t quite used to it, having grown up in a family of doctors whose every touch felt calculated, and among clansmen more focused on war and strength than friendship. Clansmen who rarely respected him, never mind showed him affection.

Even now, he exists in a constant state of volatility due to his outbursts of resentful energy. Every family member in the Burial Mounds is careful around him, even A-Yuan at times.

But not Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian is entirely different. Has always been different.

The first time they spoke, Wei Wuxian had already been comfortable with casual touch. Wei Wuxian hadn’t hesitated to lay hands on him to adjust his archery posture—steady hands he can still imagine on his upper arm and around the side of his ribs, friendly pressure like a heavy quilt, as Wei Wuxian comforted and praised him.

Then the war began, and Wei Wuxian choked him in Lotus Pier—furious, merciless hands like paws of a frightened animal. Wei Wuxian hadn’t hesitated then, either. He would’ve fully choked Wen Ning had he not held back enough to let him speak.

Then the war ended. Now Wei Wuxian uses him as an armrest, fixes his hair, arranges talismans on him, even once tried to pick him up and carry him as a joke. (He'd been a bit too weak to manage it for long. Wen Ning hadn’t thought that part was funny.) Now he drags Wen Ning around by the hand, all without hesitation.

Had Wei Wuxian hesitated before raising him from the dead?

Wen Ning isn’t sure which answer would comfort him.

“Take a look at this one,” Wei Wuxian says as he places a stone tablet in Wen Ning’s hand. A faint black cloud winds around the tablet, the smoke’s path tracing the red fulu writings carved into its surface. “Still pretty weak, but I’m getting closer to replicating yin iron with just regular stone.”

Wen Ning glances back and forth between the tablet and Wei Wuxian’s tired but enthusiastic smile. His eyes are bright with joy, but dark circles frame them. He hasn’t eaten much in the past few days, instead focusing relentlessly on his experiments, despite needing to save energy to heal the stab wound from Jiang Wanyin.

But Wen Ning still hasn’t figured out how to make him rest. Maybe admiring the new batch of demonic devices will help calm his inventive frenzy.

He nods, giving a small smile at Wei Wuxian. “That’s good.”

“Weak yin iron will be much easier to use. Better for small applications here and there, less dangerous…” Wei Wuxian squats by the scattered piles of demonic cultivation tools and notes, rummaging through to find another invention, the tablet already forgotten.

The black cloud around the tablet continues to swirl, small wisps seeping into Wen Ning’s skin. The tablet feels more like a block of dust than like stone, but despite his dulled senses, he notices…something else. A second sensation.

A throb.

“Wei-gongzi?”

“Yeah?” Wei Wuxian says, squinting at a page of especially messy notes.

“Does…does this have a pulse?” The stone continues to throb weakly, more of a resonance than a physical sensation, its aura cold like resentful energy.

Wei Wuxian looks up from the papers, one eyebrow raised. “It’s still doing that?” He stands and takes the tablet, examines it. “Hm. This might be good! I’ll have to find out what flow pattern of resentful energy caused this.”

Wen Ning closes his hand. Strangely, he wishes for the tablet to still be pulsing against his palm. It had felt kind of pleasant, if disturbing. “Resentful energy can create a heartbeat?”

“Well, it’s not exactly a heartbeat. But yes, if channeled the right way.”

“…Does that mean I have one?” Behind his back to prevent Wei Wuxian from noticing, he presses three fingers to the inside of his wrist, where years ago Jiejie had taught him how to read the flow of his blood. A black vein of resentful energy now covers those lifeless pulse points. “I’ve never felt it.”

Wei Wuxian turns the tablet between his hands thoughtfully. “No…you don’t have a heartbeat.” Then he grins, one of those sly grins that crosses his handsome face slowly, as if an idea has rushed into him so quickly that he needs to pace his smile just to contain it. Wen Ning doesn’t like those grins, because they make something flutter inside him.

“At least, not yet!” Wei Wuxian adds. “Do you want one? I could figure something out—”

“No, it’s okay. I’m fine without one.” The last thing Wei Wuxian needs is another project to stay up all night for—least of all an unnecessary project that Wen Ning requested by accident. Wei Wuxian has done enough for him already.

“I’m serious!” Wei Wuxian says. “It shouldn’t be too hard. I can test it right now.” He trails a finger over the blood-red writing on the tablet and mutters a few words under his breath. The black smoke around it thickens. “Just something temporary, to see if the idea works.” He steps closer.

Nervousness immediately jolts through Wen Ning. It’s unfortunate that death has muted the nerve endings in Wen Ning’s skin but has done nothing to quiet his anxious mind, which is always at both its most overactive and sluggish around Wei Wuxian.

Wen Ning watches the tablet’s red markings begin to glow, watches Wei Wuxian’s expression harden to a chiseled concentration.

“Come here,” Wei Wuxian says.

If Wei Wuxian’s hunch works, Wei Wuxian will ignore his health until he finishes developing the method to give Wen Ning a permanent heartbeat. If it fails, Wei Wuxian will still ignore his health, this time trying until he finds a different method.

It’s best to not let him try. To give him a firm “no.”

But Wen Ning has never been good at those. Especially when it comes to Wei Wuxian.

He has also never been good at lying to Wei Wuxian. Although he must do so for the sake of Wei Wuxian’s health, it’s hard to admit that he doesn’t miss his heartbeat.

He misses many small details of his body. Jiejie had taught him the ways of Dafan Wen medicine, made him attuned to the evidence of life in himself. He knows how fast his heart rate is supposed to be while lying in bed, knows which pressure points she once worked at to calm his anxiety, knows the irregularities of the breaths he no longer takes.

He used to like his heartbeat, his breath, their soothing rhythm as he fell asleep. It was comforting to understand that much about himself, to follow this evidence of life, when in childhood a piece of his soul had been snatched and left the rest of him a puzzle.

Now the lack of this evidence of life feels like a testimony against him.

Wei Wuxian could return some illusion of life to him. Would be happy to do so.

Selfishly, Wen Ning wants him to try. Being a walking experiment has its unsettling moments—more accurately, a constant hum of discomfort—but there is something morbidly enchanting about letting Wei Wuxian mold him into whatever he envisions. Into the magnum opus of a genius.

An even more selfish part of him wants to beg Wei Wuxian to try, because how symbolic would it be for Wei Wuxian to restore his heart, of all things…

“Wen Ning?” Wei Wuxian asks softly.

“Okay,” he answers, and instantly regrets it.

Wei Wuxian smiles again, this time the smile he saves for when he is about to tinker with the Ghost General. Wen Ning has learned all of his smiles by now, and he still doesn’t believe that there is one specially for him. But Wei Wuxian gives him that reassuring nod, the warm curve of his lips, the eager yet slightly rueful glint in his eyes, and Wen Ning can only recall seeing that expression the previous times Wei Wuxian rewrote pieces of him.

Wei Wuxian explains exactly what he’s going to do and how the resentful energy will flow. Wen Ning nods, and Wei Wuxian rests a hand on Wen Ning’s chest—casually, moving without hesitation, like always. “It won’t actually restart your heart. Just give the illusion of a pulse for a few minutes.” He furrows his brow as his focus intensifies. “That is, if it works.”

The feeling of Wei Wuxian’s hand on the center of his chest is stabilizing, yet it sets Wen Ning’s mind into disarray, despite how many times he has felt this before.

Wei Wuxian closes his eyes, preparing to reroute the resentful energy inside Wen Ning.

A cool stream of energy enters Wen Ning. Growing colder, gushing rapidly—

Freezing—

Then over almost instantly.

Wei Wuxian opens his eyes. “Feel any different?”

Wen Ning feels a bit dizzy, which is new. He hasn’t experienced vertigo since becoming a fierce corpse. But that fades quickly, and soon he is left with only the feeling of thick fabric pressing against his chest where Wei Wuxian’s hand rests.

He shakes his head. “Do…do you feel anything?”

Wei Wuxian shifts his hand, presses harder against Wen Ning’s chest. Waits, then sticks three fingers in the groove of Wen Ning’s neck, and that feels nice. Wen Ning almost wants to hold his hand there—

“No. I guess it didn’t work.” Wei Wuxian sounds much more tired than before. He removes his hand.

“That’s okay. I don’t need a heartbeat.”

“You want one though, yeah?” Wei Wuxian begins sifting through the inventions scattered across the cave, perhaps looking for another device, perhaps just hunting for kindling to spark an idea.

Wen Ning had been too selfish by agreeing to this. Who knows how long Wei Wuxian will research this now?

“I don’t want you to start another project,” Wen Ning says, and the faint thread of anger in his voice is stronger than he intended, even though that anger is mostly directed at himself. It's been harder to control his emotions since resentful energy began feeding them.

Wei Wuxian looks up, startled. Then he grins and gives a small laugh. “Are you turning into your jiejie now? Bossing me around…”

The joke only strengthens Wen Ning’s resolve. It reminds him that he can invoke Jiejie’s authoritativeness. He has never been good at following in his sister’s footsteps, but calling upon her immovability is almost as effective at steeling him as resentful energy. “You should sleep or come help us outside instead of always working in here.”

Wei Wuxian rubs his eyes. “I know, I know. You’ve all told me many times.” He seems to regret the slight bite in his tone. He tends to snap once in a while, the effect of stress lashing out from behind his mask, but it always dissolves as quickly as it appears.

“I’ll listen to you,” Wei Wuxian says, gently this time. Wen Ning feels a wave of relief. But then Wei Wuxian smirks and adds, “For now. I really do have some theories I want to test.”

“But—Wei-gongzi—”

Wei Wuxian rises to his feet and walks over to him. Stands and looks at him for a while, then says, almost murmurs, “I have enough projects for myself.” He tucks a strand of hair behind Wen Ning’s ear, and Wen Ning nearly melts. “Let me do something that’ll make you happy.”

This is bad. Very bad.

Wei Wuxian isn’t even telling the truth. His projects are all for the protection of Wen Ning’s family, not for himself. But the fond touch, combined with the sweetness in Wei Wuxian’s voice, is already enough to make Wen Ning bend.

He would much rather take care of Wei Wuxian than be taken care of. But if he weren’t worried about being a bother, he would tangle his hair just for Wei Wuxian to run his fingers through it, to twirl and comb and braid it the way he unravels and reorders the resentful energy inside Wen Ning.

“You really don’t need to. Getting a heartbeat was just an idea,” Wen Ning mumbles.

“And a good idea! We all need more comforts around here, don’t we?” Wei Wuxian nestles three fingers in the groove of Wen Ning’s neck to search for a pulse again, his brow knit in thought. Despite himself, Wen Ning can’t help but be glad that he can feel that touch a second time.

When Wei Wuxian experiments on him, the tugs and surges of resentful energy don’t exactly feel good. It’s like ice cracking under his skin, leaving shards that poke out of him. Or like the bony hand of a skeleton yanking at his insides, ripping him apart and rattling the pieces around.

The pain and discomfort frighten him. Remind him of what Wei Wuxian is capable of. What Wen Ning is capable of.

Yet he finds enjoyment in the fear, in the icy fingers of resentful energy, because those are the shadows of Wei Wuxian’s hands on him, reshaping him.

And before Wei Wuxian experiments on him…that feels too good. The doting—almost loving—attention, the careful examination, mumbled words, soft touches…

Wei Wuxian pulls his hand away and brings it to his own throat. His glance darts around the cave as he seems to calculate something in his mind.

Then he grabs Wen Ning’s hand and presses Wen Ning’s fingers into his neck. The sensation comes delayed, but Wen Ning feels it.

A pulse. Wei Wuxian’s pulse.

Wei Wuxian continues looking around the cave and thinking, as if this is just another ordinary step in a routine. But to Wen Ning, this is—this is—have they ever done something this intimate? How can Wei Wuxian let him feel the rhythm of his pulse, of his life force, and act like it’s nothing?

Somehow that makes it even more intimate, that Wei Wuxian doesn’t seem to mind…

Wen Ning counts the beats to himself.

Too slow. Not by much, but Wei Wuxian’s heart rate is too slow for his age, his size.

Wen Ning would make a mental note to tell Jiejie, but he knows she’s already aware. Wei Wuxian’s health has been deteriorating since he stepped back into the Burial Mounds.

“Wei-gongzi?”

“Mn?”

“I…I have a different idea.”

Wei Wuxian lifts Wen Ning’s hand from his neck, but doesn’t let go. He smiles. “What’s that?”

“You can just give me the tablet.” Wen Ning looks down at the slab of stone, thin black wisps of smoke swirling around it. “I can feel its heartbeat.”

“You don’t want your own?”

He shakes his head.

Wei Wuxian playfully taps the back of Wen Ning’s hand a few times. Four times, to be exact. Wen Ning can’t help counting. “That heartbeat isn’t very human, though.”

Neither am I, Wen Ning wants to say, but he knows Wei Wuxian will scold him if he does. “It would be more than enough,” he says instead.

“You’re going to make the Yiling Laozu feel like a fraud if you let him give you scraps and call it ‘more than enough.’” He sighs and glances down at the tablet. “But you can take it until I come up with something better.”

“Then…is there something that you don’t think is a scrap?”

Wei Wuxian brings Wen Ning’s fingers to his neck again, and the warm pulse hums through his fingertips. “Well, there’s my heartbeat.” He winks. “I’d still call that a scrap, though.”

“No it isn’t,” Wen Ning blurts.

Wei Wuxian raises his eyebrows. Then his expression turns thoughtful. “Would you rather keep feeling mine?”

Wen Ning doesn’t reply, but he knows his face says everything. Not even rigor mortis can hide the answer.

“Forget about that useless rock, then.” Wei Wuxian pats his chest. “I’ll be your heartbeat for now.”

Wen Ning is sure that if he still had blood flow, he would be flushed. Panicked energy begins to twitch inside him. “N-No, it’s okay—”

“You don’t want my finest craftsmanship, and you don’t want my scraps! What am I going to do with you?”

“Nothing,” Wen Ning answers quietly.

“Yes, something.” He takes Wen Ning’s hand and tugs him toward the slab of stone he uses as a bed. “Hm. How should we do this? Maybe—”

“Wei-gongzi,” Wen Ning says, exasperated. He likes that Wei Wuxian never hesitates, never slows down—it’s attractive, in a frustrating kind of way—but it often leaves Wen Ning in the dust with his mind still sputtering and struggling to function.

“Alright, sit here.” Wei Wuxian gestures toward the bed. “If you want to,” he adds.

It’s pointless to ask if Wen Ning wants to. He wonders if Wei Wuxian knows that he doesn’t need Chenqing or yin iron to make him do just about anything.

Suddenly filled with dread, a dread that he is going to like this too much, he steps forward and awkwardly sits down on the edge of the bed.

“Perfect,” Wei Wuxian murmurs. He taps Wen Ning’s knee twice. “Spread your legs.”

Now Wen Ning is certain that he would be flushed if he were alive. “S-S-Spr—what?”

“Hey.” He smirks and points a finger at Wen Ning. “Who taught you to have thoughts like that? Don’t worry. I just need you to make room for me.”

Wen Ning gets out some garbled form of “okay” and spreads his legs, creating enough space for Wei Wuxian to sit on one of his knees.

Which Wei Wuxian does.

Sit on his knee.

He also wraps his arms around Wen Ning’s neck and pulls him closer until his cheek touches Wei Wuxian’s chest.

“I can’t do all the work myself.” He cups Wen Ning’s chin. “You have to move too.”

Wen Ning swallows—by habit, since he doesn’t really need to do that anymore—and positions himself so his ear rests over Wei Wuxian’s heart. He can’t feel Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat through the robes, but the gentle sound of thum, thum seeps into him right away.

Warmth, too. A lot of warmth.

“Good?” Wei Wuxian hums.

Wen Ning makes a small noise of contentment in the back of his throat. He fiddles with his hands in his lap, trying and failing to find a good place for them that isn’t Wei Wuxian’s legs. “I hear it.”

“Only hear it?”

He opens his mouth to object, but he knows that Wei Wuxian will spot the lie before it leaves his lips.

Wei Wuxian opens the collar of his dark outer robes and lets Wen Ning rest his head on the thin red inner garment.

Even warmer. Softer.

He can feel Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat.

He hasn’t felt something like this since he was a child. It’s…not what he expects.

Jiejie had taught him how to take a person’s pulse. How to place three fingers on each wrist and find the six pulse positions corresponding to the meridians of the body, to identify the different types of pulses—their depth, width, length, strength. How sometimes the pulse feels like beads rolling along a table, while other times it feels like the crisp pluck of a guqin string, and so on, each revealing secrets of the body, guiding how to best heal the patient.

All that knowledge had once been exciting. It seems mundane, now.

The medical analogies for a pulse at the wrist, Wen Ning realizes, don’t work to describe what a heartbeat from the chest feels like when it’s pressed against his cheek.

It’s like wading in a warm stream, sunshine beating on him. The gentle lap of current, its smooth rhythm—thum, thum—like the most natural and simple form of expression.

Wen Ning wishes Jiejie had instead taught him how to decipher a person’s soul by listening to their heartbeat, because with this strange, steady language reverberating in his ear, it almost seems possible.

“Now?” Wei Wuxian asks.

Wen Ning doesn’t make a sound this time.

He counts Wei Wuxian’s heartbeats and tries to guess how many fit into a minute. They remain like that, long after Wen Ning loses count, with Wei Wuxian’s warm body in his lap. They both relax, and Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat eventually fades into Wen Ning, like it’s his own.

His awareness returns when he notices Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat slowing even more. He pulls away, immediately missing the comforting solidness of Wei Wuxian’s chest, and looks up to see a calm, drowsy expression on Wei Wuxian’s face. His eyes are heavy-lidded and almost fully closed.

“We’ve been telling you,” Wen Ning says softly. “You don’t sleep enough.”

Wei Wuxian rubs his eyes. “You really are becoming bossy.”

“I just want you to take care of yourself.”

“You and your jiejie are like a pair of vultures. Circling me when I’m weak and picking at me!” He gives a wan smile and reaches around Wen Ning’s back to rub his shoulder. “But I appreciate that you care about me.”

Wen Ning absorbs the feeling of Wei Wuxian stroking his shoulder, the thrum of Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat still lingering in his ear. “I appreciate that you care about me, too,” he mumbles.

He’s not sure if Wei Wuxian hears, but figures he knows anyway.

* * *

The next day, Wei Wuxian lets Wen Ning listen again.

And the day after.

And the day after that.

It becomes a pattern, as reliable as the beat of Wei Wuxian’s heart. Wei Wuxian is more likely to skip a meal or lose a night of sleep than he is to shirk his self-proclaimed “heartbeat duty,” and Wen Ning begins to wonder if Wei Wuxian likes it as much as he does.

Then Jiang Wanyin and Jiang Yanli show up in Yiling.

That night, Wei Wuxian drinks like he wants to waterboard himself.

He forgets about heartbeat duty after that. Wen Ning lets him.

* * *

Two weeks later, Wen Ning brings a medicinal draught Jiejie prepared to the Demon Subdue Palace. The sun outside sank long ago, leaving behind deep blues and browns that bleed into the entrance of the cave. A single candle flickers on a rock shelf in the cave wall, illuminating the craggy wall and the floor strewn with bits of metal and wood and crumpled talismans.

Astoundingly, Wei Wuxian is not hunched in the corner scribbling away. He’s in bed scribbling away, his sleeves rolled up and his tied-back hair slightly disheveled the way they are when he digs in the mud pond for the lotus pods that won’t grow.

He hadn’t come out to farm since the day before. Wen Ning wonders if he’s fixed his sleeves or his hair since then.

Wen Ning steps over as quietly as he can manage with his clumsy feet and waits beside the bed, holding the draught with both hands and feeling a faint sensation of its warmth. “Wei-gongzi?”

Wei Wuxian presses the wooden end of his brush into the corner of his mouth. “Do you know how to make a Spirit-Attraction Flag attract only ghosts of a certain age?”

“…No.”

“Mn. I—wait—” He cuts off and draws what looks like disjointed pieces of an array scribbled in the margins around rejected brushstrokes.

Wen Ning lets him write for a while, then says, “My jiejie made this for you to drink.”

“And why,” Wei Wuxian asks without a pause in his writing, “is she spending resources on me instead of saving them for A-Yuan and the others?”

“You need medicine, too. Because your stab wound still hasn't healed, and—and Jiejie says your body still isn’t used to not having a gold—”

Wei Wuxian abruptly stops writing. Wen Ning clamps his mouth shut, and wishes he hadn’t said anything.

With a lack of pleasure that he fails to hide, Wei Wuxian scribbles a few more things, then stands up, slices a cut in his finger, and begins trailing red lines on a Spirit-Attraction Flag. “I’m going down the mountain to test this.” He looks over at Wen Ning with a softened expression and walks out of the cave.

Wen Ning doesn’t need him to say that it’s an invitation to follow. He always accompanies Wei Wuxian down the mountain. He’d rather Wei Wuxian sleep, but at least leaving the Burial Mounds always puts him in a better mood.

After they pass through the final protective array and the forest around the path begins to change from grim black leafless trees to green trees shaded blue by moonlight, Wei Wuxian seems to relax. But instead of testing the flag in the clearing where he usually does, he continues walking.

They reach the edge of the forest. A few clouds in the sky hide some of the stars, but the moon is out, a bright half of a silver coin. They pass the town from a distance, still close enough to see amber dots of light from the few lanterns lit at this time of night, but far enough that even Wen Ning’s sharp vision can’t discern clear shapes of the buildings. Wei Wuxian stares at the town once in a while, as if he can see something in the muddied blocks of light.

They enter a different patch of forest and stray just far enough inside for tree branches to reach across the sky again.

Wei Wuxian holds up the flag and examines it.

He lowers the flag to his side.

“Wei-gongzi,” Wen Ning says quietly.

“Yes?”

“Did you…”

He trails off when Wei Wuxian begins slowly rolling up the thin canvas. “I think I just wanted to go for a walk,” he says. “I’ll let the spirits rest today.” He sets the folded flag on a large rock and sits on the ground, his back against the stone, looking out at the plains and town from the recesses of the forest.

“I like walking with you,” Wen Ning says, and sits beside him.

Wei Wuxian usually buries his sorrow in his projects, in the crop fields, in his games with A-Yuan. This aimlessness is the closest glimpse Wen Ning sees of Wei Wuxian’s true state of mind. Wei Wuxian ensures that he is alone whenever he truly lets in his sorrow, but Wen Ning accompanies him during the times when he comes close. As if Wei Wuxian wants him to see—wants someone to see—but refuses to reveal everything.

No one else but Wen Ning has sat next to Wei Wuxian while he draws portraits for no particular reason (he never shows them to Wen Ning, but Wen Ning can guess whom he draws), no one else has slept across the cave from him while he mumbles in his sleep, no one else has wandered down the mountain at night with him.

Wen Ning doesn’t know if he should feel privileged or worried that Wei Wuxian lets him see this much.

He doesn’t think he deserves to know Wei Wuxian’s deepest thoughts, but he wants Wei Wuxian to pass more sorrow onto him, let him shoulder some of the pain. Wen Ning’s heart is dead, he can take it.

“Wen Ning,” Wei Wuxian says. He smooths his robes, adjusts his fitted sleeves. “I haven’t done heartbeat duty in a while, have I?”

“You don’t need to.”

“Maybe I want to.”

Wen Ning looks down at his knees, but Wei Wuxian scoots closer.

With their backs against the rock, Wei Wuxian hugs him in, rests his hand on the side of Wen Ning’s head, cradling him against his chest. Wen Ning tucks his arms away, trying not to touch Wei Wuxian, but Wei Wuxian takes one of his hands.

“It’s okay,” Wei Wuxian says.

Wen Ning waits a moment, wishing he had proper breath to steady himself, then carefully wraps his arms around Wei Wuxian, nestling close to his slender frame.

It feels different this time. Not because their position is different, or because Wuxian’s heartbeat is any faster or slower, stronger or weaker.

There is no purpose this time. It isn’t for Wen Ning to experience sensations more fully. It isn’t for Wei Wuxian to find comfort.

They are just two bodies cast aside from life, bodies that struggled to catch each other during their fall until they landed in each other’s embrace.

Holding Wei Wuxian feels as natural as his heartbeat, as inevitable as each thrum beneath where Wen Ning rests his head.

And just as fleeting.

Wei Wuxian is more alive than any person he knows, yet is wasting away more each day, having given up everything to protect the Dafan Wen.

And Wei Wuxian is not his. Only one thing ties them together: they have each made the other into a member of the living dead.

With whom did it start? Was it Wei Wuxian, who brought Wen Ning back as a fierce corpse, or was it Wen Ning, who held Wei Wuxian down as his core was removed? Or was it the world that did this to both of them?

But despite the thread of shared death that ties them together, Wei Wuxian could break that connection if he wanted to.

Wen Ning is bound to his family, bound to this unnatural body, bound to Chenqing's laments. He can never reenter the world.

But Wei Wuxian...

One day, Wei Wuxian may have the chance to belong in the world again. With his shidi and shijie, with Lan Wangji.

Wen Ning will always be banished to the margins of the world.

“How long are you going to live with us?” Wen Ning finds himself asking.

Leaves rustle quietly in the forest, clouds disappearing above their heads to reveal more stars against the dark liquid sky. An owl hoots questioningly far behind them.

“Until tomorrow,” Wei Wuxian says. “Ask me again tomorrow, and I’ll tell you again.”

“I can’t ask you that every day.”

“Then don’t ask me at all.” He strokes Wen Ning’s hair, over the back of his head and down his back. “I’m not leaving.”

Wei Wuxian continues playing with Wen Ning’s hair, running his fingers through it, stopping occasionally to work out a tangle. Not for the first time, Wen Ning wishes he could feel touch more strongly. He had dreamt of moments like these as a teenager, gentle caresses from Wei Wuxian, impossible moments. He hadn’t realized he would receive them one day after they had given up their lives for each other.

“When do you think we’ll get our next visitor?” Wei Wuxian asks. “Think I can make that Spirit-Attraction Flag into a Guest-Attraction Flag?” He chuckles. “We can hang it at the ridge. People will be drawn from miles to come talk to us. Tell Uncle Four to get lots of fruit wine ready." He fiddles with the sleeve of Wen Ning's robe. "I’ll have you test out the flag. Wear it like a cloak, and go walk around Yiling to see how many friends you make.”

“I can barely get anyone to buy turnips from me.”

“Change of plans, then! I’ll make a Customer-Attraction Flag, and we’ll finally be rich.”

Wen Ning smiles. “What are we going to buy once we’re rich?”

“Toys for A-Yuan.” Wei Wuxian rubs across Wen Ning’s shoulders, back and forth. “Every toy in Yiling.”

“We should buy every toy in Lanling, too.”

“That’ll need a lot more money. We’ll have to grow bigger turnips.”

“A giant one.”

“A single giant turnip?” Now there is real laughter in Wei Wuxian’s voice. “I’ll have to plant you as the seed to grow something big enough. Don’t tell your jiejie. Although she might figure it out when you disappear, and meanwhile a turnip the size of the Burial Mounds takes over Yiling.”

“I still won’t tell her.”

Wei Wuxian makes a low humming sound. “I can always count on you.”

Wen Ning melts more into Wei Wuxian’s embrace, surrounded by his warmth.

“Too bad that no matter who we bury in the lotus pond,” Wei Wuxian says with a sigh, “those plants still don’t want to sprout.” This time he doesn’t rub Wen Ning’s back or fiddle with him while he talks.

He’s never said something like that about the lotus crop without following it up with a confident proclamation—But when have I ever not achieved the impossible?, They’ll poke their heads out soon!, My lotus flowers will be the biggest you’ve seen, just wait!

He’s never left hanging the chance that the lotus crop might not grow.

Wen Ning waits for the cocky remark, but it doesn’t come. “They’ll sprout if you’re the one growing them,” Wen Ning suggests, filling in the declaration that Wei Wuxian missed.

“…Yeah.”

Wen Ning’s stomach sinks. He looks up. Wei Wuxian smiles at him and guides him to rest against his chest again.

“It’s only been two weeks. They might take a while,” Wen Ning says, his face nearly turned into Wei Wuxian’s robes.

“I’ll just cheat and make a Lotus-Attraction Flag.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Of course you will. You’ll also help me with the flag for attracting guests to marvel at the beauty of our lotus pond!”

Guests again.

Wen Ning knows that Hanguang-Jun had visited on the day his consciousness returned. Jiang Wanyin and Jiang Yanli had met with Wei Wuxian soon after. Both left marks on Wei Wuxian.

Is he thinking about them?

Wishing he had warmth of his own to give Wei Wuxian, Wen Ning hugs him tighter. He's not sure if they lower to the ground in one movement or slowly slide down, but eventually they lie on their sides, facing each other, arms tight around each other. Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat speaks, and Wen Ning listens.

I’m lonely, it whispers. I’m so lonely.

Who is there in the Burial Mounds for Wei Wuxian to feel the same affection toward as he feels about Hanguang-Jun? Or to provide the same comfort as the company of his siblings?

Everyone in the Burial Mounds has tried their best to provide the support of a new family for Wei Wuxian. He has even called them his family. But try as they might, how could the Dafan Wen replace his shidi and shijie?

The shidi and shijie Wen Ning helped Wei Wuxian save, only to steal him away from. He knows that it was Wei Wuxian’s choice to lead the Dafan Wen to the Burial Mounds and live with them, but would he have made that choice if he had never formed a relationship with Wen Ning and his sister? The thought makes guilt churn in his stomach.

“Wei-gongzi?”

Wei Wuxian runs his thumb in gentle circles over Wen Ning’s shoulder. “Yes?”

“Is that something you want?” He pulls away from Wei Wuxian’s chest to look up at him, though not quite into his eyes. “Guests?”

“Don’t take that all so seriously. If guests come, would they be as good of a drinking buddy as Uncle Four, or as good of a storyteller as Granny, or as energetic as A-Yuan? They couldn’t compete.”

“But you meant it,” Wen Ning says, surprised at the force in his own voice, quiet as it is. “I’ll help you bring guests here.”

Wei Wuxian smiles and brushes his thumb over Wen Ning’s cheek, the touch warm and soft like hushed words. “You’re already too good to me. Don’t worry about me.” He sighs and looks up at the sky. “Each of us will have things we want, but can’t have. It’s just part of living.”

Wen Ning, too, looks up at the star-studded sky through the dark silhouettes of trees. The full shapes of the constellations are broken up, but he can picture which stars are waiting behind the black hands of tree leaves.

As he follows the disjointed forms of the constellations, he decides that he will relieve Wei Wuxian’s burdens.

He is not sure at what moment he makes the decision, but it settles into his bones and becomes his purpose for the night.

Not just for the night. For as long as Wei Wuxian is by his side.

The day Wen Ning’s consciousness was restored, he had heard A-Yuan singing a song about walking the “single-log bridge.” Curious, Wen Ning had asked where A-Yuan learned the song.

“Xian-gege,” had been the answer. The song’s lyrics had been about Wei Wuxian walking alone into darkness.

Wen Ning will not let him walk alone.

If Wei Wuxian wants to walk the single-log bridge, Wen Ning will carry him across it.

“Will you tell me about them?” Wen Ning asks.

“About what?”

“The things you want, but can’t have.”

* * *

Thank you for reading! Next chapter is coming soon. If you enjoyed this fic, come visit me on AO3!

[septembersghost]

Did you go to university? I feel pathetic because I didn't and haven't achieved shit I'm a waste

i did not, first for financial reasons (even with good grades, we were too poor for me to feasibly go anywhere i wanted to go, and couldn't even afford all the application fees had i wanted to apply multiple places, so i sent one specifically, to an elite college in town, and was unsurprisingly denied), so i decided to do two years of cc at home, which was the one option that was fully funded for me, and figure out the next two when the time came - i was already very sick in my senior year of highschool and had already been to multiple physicians, but was convinced it would pass, and pushed through to start with college, which...was a life-altering mistake for a lot of reasons. (including, but not limited to, me getting pneumonia at the end of first semester and not being able to go to my paternal grandmother's funeral, followed by the car accident my mom and i had coming from a theatrical performance i attended for my drama class which led to permanent damage/chronic pain issues, followed by attempted sa...). i got through all of first semester with straight As (had one thing i had to fight for with an english professor), but was so frighteningly ill by mid-second semester that i was forced to drop out of everything but my choir ensemble, which i kept attending because i couldn't bear the thought of losing that connection to music. unfortunately after that, my health worsened in various ways and then never stabilized, and i was never able to go back. there's a sad irony in the fact that i enjoyed school and was so determined to go and so worried that if i didn't immediately it would throw me off, and pushing myself like that ended up totally destroying my immune system and my life/future. it's why i talk a lot about being frozen in time (also a big part of why i'm suffering some, uh, real depression from my age...), i have been so cut off from "normal" experiences and milestones in life and so encased in glass (or trapped in the cage of my body) that i feel like years and years have spun out around me, but i haven't been a part of them. i haven't been seen in them or have any accomplishments to show for them, they've continued without me, but i have next to nothing in common with my grown adult peers, and yet i'm also not the very sheltered eighteen/nineteen year old that i still feel like in many ways. i'm just this ghost of that girl who was supposed to get to live in my place. definitely feel utterly useless and like a waste on a regular basis.

i'm so sorry you feel that heaviness too, it's very difficult to manage. i wish i had some words that could make it easier. to you, to anyone else in this position, i'd want to ardently tell you that you're not and could never be a waste and you have intrinsic value being here, but i recognize that could sound hypocritical since i can't extend that well to myself? i do mean it, though, you're not pathetic for this at all. it's terrible when things happen that feel so diminishing or take away what we might have wanted or dreamed, but it doesn't make you any less worthwhile, or unworthy of being here, or less deserving of care and respect and love. you still matter so much and give this world your own light, even if you might think it's hard to see. i'm sending you so many hugs right now 💗💕💗💕