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"This is the fifth time today! Pass the ball to someone other than Hargrove!"
Aka, whenever Billy and Steve are in a room together, it's like everyone else just ceases to exist, and their coach is the first one to get tired of them.
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rollercoasterwords · 4 months
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damn that is so crazy that u think taylor swift’s album about being in love with her boyfriend is a paragon of queer storytelling packed with sapphic subtext. personally when i’m in the mood for gay music i like to listen to gay people singing about gay sex but to each their own dude
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silkythewriter · 4 months
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Vox and alastor with an undeserving to be in hell reader!
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Warnings!:non!
Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!
Author note!;I THINK TUMBLER ACTUALLY HATES ME (メ﹏メ)(。•́︿•̀。)it keeps not letting me edit my drafts, it’s happened like 3 times already this week alone!,…BUT ANYWAY I LOVE THIS IDEA I REALLY HOPE YOY ENJOY!!!!♡´・ᴗ・`♡
Summary!: alastor and Vox x reader WHOs I. Hell for a minor sin/crime
❤️Written by silkythewriter do not steal or repost any other platform please! <3❤️
ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ
“Each time I find myself
Flat on my face
I pick myself up and get back in the race!”
ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ
!📺✨Vox✨📺!
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When you first admitted what you did that counted as a “sin” he was flabbergasted! He thought they must’ve made a mistake. All be it one that was in favor since he got to be damned with you. But still!
Out of every monster known to man kind one who’ve committed acts that are despicable. You, one who can barely hurt a damn fly get sent with them?
At first he thought you were genuinely just joking. And he actually laughed! Like audible chuckled before waiting for the actual reason, which never came, and he soon realized you were being serious!
He always questioned why you use to refuse to kill, or at least scare people into respect. But then you explained how you refused to be like the rest of the sinners.
He utterly dumb founded you made it this far without spilling a bit of blood, at least for survival!
He becomes more overprotective as if he wasn’t before, good luck with that!
Cause now he knows your rules, he knows you won’t budge. Nothing would get you to change your mind. So he made sure to keep eyes on you 24/7, you may be nice, but the other sinners in this damned place definitely aren’t. And he knows that from experience
Would neither confirm or deny he put a small tracker in an item you carry every where.
This man has enemy’s as you’ve seen, demons, overlords, rival company’s, it’s a headache an a half for him. Not that he hates protecting you and your values! No never!, but the nerve of the people who think they even have a chance to lay a hand on you.
Gives you the lastest phone from his series, and yes he will text you and blow up ur phone up if he can see you through cameras around the city.
Even if you put it on silent he wouldn’t put behind himself to over load it and just show up on your phone screen.
Sometimes he’s just so confused how you can be so nice, or at worst passive to those who are poking at you. He thinks your a saint, even if you aren’t, an maybe you have a short temper still the way you hold yourself form blowing up is astonishing!
Sometimes he jokes about how if you were to go to Charlie you would be redeemed in a day. And at night sometimes he thinks about it and it scares him to know there’s a possibility for you to go where he will probably never be able to follow you too
He loves you to the depths and the crooks of hell, and he’ll be damned again if he lets anyone hurt you. He sees you as a small soft light in the red cover world, and he will do anything before anyone can put out that light.
He makes sure to keep a good distance between you and Val, a BIG distance.
He’s always on the edge about people around you, how can’t he? He can’t trust all these “disgusting and repulsive” sinners in hell around you. The thought alone cringes him out and stresses him.
He knows to some degree he isn’t exactly better then them sin wise, but he makes sure to do his best for you while infornt of you, he cares about his image, and wouldn’t be afraid to scare someone into discipline. BUT he will tone it down, just for you ♥(⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)♥
He has you under wraps, from the public eye in this case. As much as he’s one to show off his earnings, he loves you a little to much and knows well people will use you as a advantage. He loves to show off but you something just for him behind close doors for now before he can work something out
NOW if the public were to already know, he show off by showing how untouchable you were, demons knew better to approach you seeing as how fast he is to get rid of those stupid enough to try something.
Overall he respects your morals of not wanting to stoop as low as other sinners. But it dose make him more protective of you, your like a rare gem. There’s only a handful of people like you, and even then the numbers decrees daily, so he dose his most to make sure you safe and happy <3
ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ
!🎙️✨Alastor✨🎙️!
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Like Vix he humors it at first! Playing around with it before Laughing with his usual staticky voice as he stared at you with his unnerving smile. You guys quite literally stared at each other for a hot minute waiting for the other to say something.
It took you clearing your throat for him to realize you weren’t just trying to get a chuckle outta him.
And for the first time since you met him you caught a hint of confusion, making you explain that it was genuinely what you did.
He quite literally burst out laughing, you, someone who probably did something everyone did once is in this horrid place stuck with the horrid monsters ever! Just for that single act alone.
He will admit he found it a bit amusing how you refused to kill or lay a hand on anyone. Refusing to stoop to other people’s levels. Now that for him is pure gold of entreatment! He’s seen people like you, say the same exact thing then crumble when backed I to a Corner.
But for the first time, for all the decades he’s been damned here, he’s seen you stick to what you’ve stated. You were very much quite a spectacle!
Now finding new amusement, he decided to protect you, cause someone like you were sure to be a one time experience. Aside from loving you of course
Now with your name being accosted with him alone is a shield in if its self. Barely any one approached you, aside from those playing with their afterlives of course.
If you ever feel a looming shadow or presence it’s most likely one of his shadows. Like Vox he is gonna have his eyes on you almost always
Although he loves you he will play around to get a reaction out of you. All for the fun of it!, he knows you cringe when he talks about his cannibalism tendencies he just loves seeing your cute little face scrunch up!
Even though with all of that he is a gentleman and will make sure no one is to bother you.
He’s quite impressed you made it this far without getting killed, I mean of course you have him but if you arrived to hell and didn’t met him immediately he’d be quite impressed and surprised one you both do meet
He indulges himself in the horrible aspects of hell, with no remorse or shame what so ever either. So although he dose respect your wishes he won’t stop or calm down his tendencies.. (;へ:)but on the bright side he’ll make sure your far away or he goes off to other part of the city and do whatever he wishes. But your likely to see on the news either way… ( ̄▽ ̄💧
He dose enjoy the more civil and nice talks he has with you though! He finds it nice to take a break from all the crude talk on the street from other sinners and have a nice conversation!
Great listener let me tell you, he’ll happily sit there as you explain your day away! He honestly enjoys hearing you genuinely happy!, although his a chatter box himself but he enjoys listening to you more then anyone or anything else!
Watches you be nice to the most repulsive, and rude demon like it’s nothing. Even when disrespected you find a way to calm down the situation and nicely at that. Of course the demon doesn’t live long once their out of your sight, but still! He’s pleasantly surprised.
He finds it rather weird that your nice just for the sake of being nice but still it’s definitely a nice refresher from all the horrible people down in hell!
You catch his eye rather quickly with how you stick out from others (in a good way! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ) and his eyes end up on you, you mainly have all his attention almost always if he isn’t off doing something!, your his light just live Vox he’ll make sure you’ll shine bright as ever and won’t go out.
Not everyone can catch it but in some rare moments he’ll be seen just staring at you as you happily talk away to Charlie. And for the smallest second you can see his unnerving smile turn into a soft smirk, eyes only on you and his mind filled with only you. This happens on the regular, it’s just he’s quick to cover up so no one sees!
Overall he loves you, even with some differences between your views he’ll still do his best to make you comfortable. Aside from teasing you here and there! But other then that he’ll protect you, your one of kind. And he loves having things no one else can.
ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ
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AHHHH HELLOOOOO OH GORSH I MADE IT JUST IN TIME THIS TOOK SO LOBG TO DO CAUSE I KEPT HAVING TO DELETE AND REWRITE ON A NEW DRAFT AUGHHH I HOPE TUMBLR FIXES THIS BUG, BUT ANYWAY TYSM FOR REQUESTING PLEASE COME AGAIN!!!\(^ヮ^)/’
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hughmanbean · 3 months
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Loving Threats
Inspired by a song and its remake. But I am trash at syncing lyrics to storybeats.
Danny and Jason met in the ghost zone when Jason was dead, but he forgot it all coming back to life. When the two of them were together, they went through the entire song and dance (literally) of asking each other out.
I'm serious. There were like 10 different musical scenes with varying themes. It was Fenton Romance at its finest. And Jason's old school romance heart was certainly played a large part too.
It was their love language. Dramatic acts, vague threats and all.
Post revival and reconnection with the Batfam, Jason spots a familiar face. A flood of memories wash through him, and with it a bout of giddiness. Though he's currently dressed as Red Hood, Danny'll be able to tell who he is and keep quiet. Just have to greet him in a way that he'll recognize.
---
Danny is out taking the kids for a walk. Dan was grumpy since he wasn't allowed any ecto chips, for both his health and as punishment for severely beating a guy who tried to mug Danny without permission yesterday. Ellie is quite cheerful, since she's going to visit the Crocodile and Zombie sewer-dudes when Danny's not looking.
All of a sudden, Red Hood, casually wielding a gun, approaches Danny. He makes an overly familiar gesture, wrapping an arm sideways around Danny's waist. He whistles under the hood, a faint green glow from the white eyespaces.
"Well who do we have here? You look half dead, honey."
Danny looked at him. Horrible pick up line? Check? Thin veneer of confidence? Check. Zero self control around Danny? Check.
Jason. The rancid ecto signature is new, though. Honestly, not surprised he's a crime lord now.
"Well, you know how it is. The kids have been running me ragged. And you sure haven't been any help."
Danny puts on an innocent smile. Jason sidles closer. A few bystanders watch them with varied expressions.
"Well you don't need to worry about that now. How about you and I go somewhere more private?"
---
"A crime boss, huh?"
Dan is raiding the fridge. Ellie is watching a fight on TV.
"It was a... necessary step. I promise I would've visited you sooner if I had known."
"It's fine. What else happened while you were gone?"
"Well..."
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heavyheavycream · 2 months
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pov - your secretary is too cheap to refuse food (and too cheap to buy a new shirt)
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phivorce · 4 months
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people are surprised dan and phil's fanbase consists of 99% lesbians because they used to be known as "those two hot british guys" but true dan and phil girlies know it has never been about thinking they're hot and it has always been about wishing we could put them in an aquarium and study their behavior
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bonchobrick · 1 year
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Dead on Main au where Jason is of course Danny’s Fright Knight and like all knights do he has a weapon—except it’s his gun.
The batfam + justice league + everyone (except ghosts duh) don’t know that his normal average everyday gun is actually like a super powerful spiritual soul shooter that is, yaknow, capable of blasting someone into an alternate dimension where their greatest fears become real.
So imagine there’s like a big battle where a ghastly ghoul reigns terror on Gotham. The world sends their best hero’s—wizards and occultists are notably high highest in demand—to stop the ghost but, nothing works. All of the weapons and spells and chants fail.
But,
As the fights worsens and the heros scream for people to flee suddenly--
Loud squeaking footsteps echo across the ground. Jason yawns strolling into the battle zone in a ghostbusters t-shirt plaid pants bunny slippers--he strolls up in pajamas--as if annoyed at being woken up and cocks his fucking normal 'i could buy you at walmart' gun at the ghost.
His brothers screech at him yelling ”Are you insane” and to "get the hell out of here" in fear and panic because their idiot brother is trying to kill a real life ghost with a damn gun.
But then Jason shoots the ghost and it works.
The ghost fizzles down with a cry into just a little blob.
The young man then spends 30 minutes lecturing the spirit saying things like “you’re glad I’m not calling the big guy” and “you know our highness would not be happy learning what you’ve been doing” before taking out a thermos of all things and sucking the ghost into it.
Jason then sighs and walks away as if he hadn’t just defeated a hell raising ghost with a gun people can buy off a corner pawn store and a soup container.
Immediately the bat family swarms him with questions
Dick grabs him by his shoulders tense with worry, “Are you okay?”
“Um yeah—“ Jason tries to reply squirming in his hold
Damian cuts him off, “How the hell did your gun a physical weapon hurt that ghastly demonic spirit!”
“Uh that ghost is actually pretty chill you guys just pissed him off." Jason replies plain
They stare at him with a look saying 'you did not call a ghost that has been decimating gotham chill' probably because he did just that.
Tim is the first to break out of the disbelief stupor as he very inteligently says, "What?"
Jason responds easily with a confused quirk in his brow, "Second, my gun affects entities of all sorts, perks to my job and all that."
"How did being a vigilante and also probably crime boss give you a gun that could do that?" Dick asks
Jason sends him a look saying "are you an idiot" as he replies, "Yea, sure, kicking petty thieves and druggies got me my all powerful spirit weapon--No you dumbass, it's from being the bodyguard of the King of the Infinite Realms! How the hell did you guys not think of that!”
Tim breathes in, then breathes out, then breathes in again and screams, "Why the HELL WOULD WE THINK OF THAT JAY?!"
"The--" Batman, suddenly beside them, chokes, "Bodyguard of T-the what."
Jason blinks at his family then his eyes widen, "Oh shit."
"What?!" His family screech in panic
"Oh fuck," Jason says with a growing hysteric smile, "Danny's gonna have a big ol' fucking laugh with this."
"Brother who is Danny!" Damian demands for an answer
Jason coughs into his palm, "Oh yeah you guys really dont dont know. So I may have forgotten to explain some... things."
Bruce levels him with a stare that says "you think?"
Jason chuckles nervously, "So y'know how I'm half dead?"
pause
Damian very eloquently responds for the suddenly dying screaming combusting members of his family, "...sure."
"Well I met the King of the afterlife which is like the Ruler of Everything and he was really cute--" Jason says distant in his own world
"Theres a afterlife?" Superman asks casually appearing beside the emotionally wrecked family
"Yea its pretty cool. So I start flirting a bit with the guy and we hit it off, I now im his zombie ghost knight boyfriend lover for all time. Oh and i got this sickass gun." Jason says with a happy grin
"That is a pretty sick gun." John Constantine nods
"I know right?" Jason chirps
"You wouldn't mind if I inspected--" John reaches his hand
Jason slaps it away, "Not a chance you soul whore. Y'know your basically the tax evasionist of the Ghost Zone right?"
John only sighs and leaves
"But yea so I'm like the ghost world equivalent to married with the king and became his knight and thats how I was able to stop that ghost guy." Jason reiterates as if explaining a simple question, "Y'guys get that?"
Tim is on the ground trying to decide whether; sobbing hysterically, interogating jason to find out all the things he doesn't want to know or sleeping would be a better use of his time.
Dick has decided to blame himself and has started to draft a reddit post in the middle of the street starting with "I (23 m) have a younger brother (19 m), who I used to resent but really regret now, he died and came back and doesn't even tell me about what goes on in his life anymore. How do I fix our--"
Damian is just staring at the gun and... Jason pushes it deeper in his holster and shifts to the side, better to be safe than sorry with this thieving shit.
As Jason adjusts his weaponry he hears Bruce sob in the background, "He didn't even invite me to the wedding! Am I that horrible of a father!"
Wonder Woman pats his shoulder reasuringly whilst the rest of the League seem to be trying to calm him down
Jason looks around tiredly at the mess he had created and decides fuck it
"Alright I'm heading out for the night, you guys get home safe!" He yells and without caring to listen to anyone and everyone voicing their confusion he zips open a green portal and stumbles in
He crashes down on an unbelievably comfortable bed
Danny blinks blearily before sending the young man a sleepy smile, "Hey Jay, what kept you up so long?"
Jason slipping under the blankets with a yawn says, "You would not believe the night I just had."
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Edit: UMM HII The fic is out now here!! you guys are awesome I'll post the new chapter 2 in a hot sec after editting ^^
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angelthemanspanker · 3 months
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the thing about xander I think is that getting fucked in the ass once would fix HIM but there's not a single dude in the cast that wouldn't become worse as a result of being The Guy Who Fucked Xander Harris
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thebaratie · 5 months
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BANG x2!
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aaronwhorechner · 3 months
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JENNIFER JAREAU + EMILY PRENTISS Criminal Minds 2.17 – "Distress"
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lauraneedstochill · 1 year
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Make a move
summary: you think Aemond is too arrogant to woo you, but he's got some tricks up his sleeve. pairing: Aemond Targaryen x F!Reader words: ~ 6000 warnings: a bit of bickering and teasing, it gets slightly heated (Aemond has a praise kink, but I doubt anyone is surprised), mostly it's just silly fluff
author's note: this was inspired by "Crazy, stupid, love", particularly the scene where Emma kisses Ryan (one of my favorite on-screen kisses!) and everything that follows. I recently rewatched the movie and had an idea for this story. it's not smth I would usually write, but I couldn't get it out of my head (also, I may or may not have a thing for men's hands... you've been warned)
> English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes
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You keep mindlessly tapping your fingers on the wooden table, your cup of wine untouched. You don't really notice the movement, too wrapped up in your thoughts, until your friend Margaret sneers.
"If you don't stop, I might bite your hand off," she says, sitting across the table.
"Then I'll use the other one," you huff but pause your fidgeting. "Better bite my head off, it will do us both more good."
"But I like your head very much," she pouts. "Is this about Thomas again?"
You groan, hiding your face in your hands and thinking back to the conversation you had earlier today with said man. Your emotions are a mix of annoyance and embarrassment as you can't stop thinking about his words.
"He said the meeting will be of great importance. What if he...? You know," you mutter, and Margaret huffs.
"I hope he won't."
"Hey, you are supposed to be my friend!" you playfully pinch her hand, and she fakes a gasp.
"I am your friend. And as your friend, I think you deserve way more than that sad excuse of a man," her face gets serious for a second, and you feel your smile waver.
"Mar, you know I don't have much of a choice," you breathe out, and your heart sinks at the thought. "He isn't that bad, really. He's always been kind to me."
"Sounds like every girl's dream," she rolls her eyes. "And you want to settle down for a kind man? Nothing else?"
"What do you think my options are? Please, enlighten me since I'm clearly missing something," you cross your arms on your chest. You know she's right and she means good, but your frustration gets the best of you.
Luckily, Margaret catches it and gives you a sympathetic smile.
"All I'm saying is that for as long as I can remember you've always dreamt of something more," she extends her hand across the table and lightly squeezes yours. "We've been friends since we were little kids, and you are the most loving person out of everyone I know. Should I remind you who taught me how to dance? Protected me against my idiot brothers?" you giggle at the memory. "You've got an adventurous spirit and a heart of gold. You deserve an epic love story," there's a hint of sadness in her voice.
For a minute you sink into your thoughts again.
"And you think Thomas is not the one?" you sigh.
"He's epically boring at best," Margaret takes a sip out of her cup. "I know he's not the one — and you do, too."
"My parents approve of him," you try to argue, but she's quick to object.
"They only care about your approval. And they mistakenly took your lack of protest for it," Margaret gives you a gloomy look.
"You are aware that I can't wait forever, right? I'm not getting any younger."
"Nor smarter," she snickers.
"Not everyone is lucky to meet the love of their life at the age of 12," you frown. Margaret and Jamie got married three years ago, but they have been betrothed for seven prior to that.
"Fair," she beams, and you can't stay irritated for long. They are still ridiculously in love with each other, and you are really happy for her. You just wish to feel that, too. You crave that indescribable feeling of longing and wanting and caring for someone else — and being loved just as much in return.
"Maybe the concept of love is overrated," you ramble. "It was easy to believe in when I was a kid but... As I'm growing older, it's getting harder to cling to hope, I guess. And I'm trying to make an effort and meet new people and... to show just enough character to not scare them away," you quote your mother. "Yet all of them just... Make me feel nothing. At all. And I...," you realize that Margaret isn't listening, her gaze is on something else behind your back. "Hey, I'm pouring out my heart of gold," you hiss, and her sight shifts to you. Before you can question her behavior, she informs:
"Someone's been keeping an eye on you."
"Margaret, I'm trying to have a serious conversation about my future," you fight the urge to turn around.
"Maybe this is your future!" she winks, and you grunt at her silliness.
"We are in a tavern out of all places! I'd rather take a kind man as my betrothed than a drunk one," you're about to scold her, but your friend's eyes go wide.
"His hair," her voice is barely above the whisper. "I can make out the strands of silver," Margaret slightly leans towards you. "You know what that means?"
"That you had too much wine? Maybe we should call it a night," you suggest, but your friend protests.
"Sit down!" she shushes. "He's coming over here," Margaret puts on a smile that looks painfully forged. The never-ending chattering of people around you makes your head hurt, and you're too tired to play along.
"Mar, it's been a long day, and the last thing I want is to waste my time entertaining some man's arrogance and...," you don't get to finish because he interrupts your train of thought. 
"What if a man entertains you?" his voice is low and cocky. You close your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. You don't want to make a scene in a public place so you pull yourself together, thinking that you can talk your way out of this ridiculous situation.
But when you turn to him, your eyes meeting his, your plan is suddenly forgotten.
He's taller than you, a black cloak covering most of his body and his head, so your attention is naturally drawn to his face. He wears an eyepatch, and you look over his sharp features — his prominent nose, high cheekbones that flow down to the curved contour of lips, plump and alluring. Margaret was right about the hair, but she failed to mention the color of his eye. Taking that into account, it's not hard to guess that he's a Targaryen. Which means that he definitely is arrogant.
Well, two can play that game.
You ignore his question and pointedly don't stand up in his presence:
"To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?"
"I believe the pleasure is all mine," he's only looking at you.
"We've just met, you should not jump to conclusions," you feel Margaret kicking your leg under the table but dismiss her warning.
"Sharp tongue," he notes.
"Will this be a problem?" you challenge him.
"On the contrary," it sounds like he's actually enjoying it.
It's tricky to read his intentions. But when his gaze is concentrated on you, it makes you feel like there's no one else in the room, and that sensation is thrilling.
"What brings you here, if I may ask?" you press, trying to ignore the unknown feeling creeping up on you.
"It's a nice tavern, wouldn't you say so? Since you are here, too." 
"No, I mean what brings you to our table. There are plenty of others you could've graced with your presence".
"Something must've caught my eye," he says, and you see a glint of a smile on his lips.
"Some thing? Well, the interior isn't very eye-catching if you ask me. But we might have to disagree on that."
"You aren't very agreeable, it seems."
"That's what servants are for, and I'm not one," you're being defiant yet it doesn't bother him.
"Please, do tell me more about yourself," he swiftly pulls up a nearby chair and sits right next to you, his eye never leaving your face.
"Should you pull another one? For your ego, since it takes quite a lot of space."
He squints at your words, and the corners of his mouth turn into a grin.
"I think we have that in common," he bites back, but there's no anger in his voice. If anything, the man looks curious, and you have to admit that you don't take offense at his wit.
"Are there any other far-reaching conclusions that you managed to come up to?" you turn your body to him, so now you two are opposite each other.
"I only got here a few minutes ago. But I am a great observer should you give me a little more time."
"Am I supposed to take your word for it? You are not as convincing as you think," you impugn, so he pauses briefly.
"You don't trust people easily, do you? How's that for an observation," his voice gets quiet, but his gaze is piercing.
"Men," you correct him. "I don't trust men."
"Any of them dared to break your trust?" he gets a little closer, and you instinctively gravitate toward him.
"That would've required them to gain my trust first," you retort.
"And what would it take for me to do so?"
"Do you expect me to make it easy? That's not very observant of you," your grin matches his own.
"Nothing good comes easy," he murmurs, and you involuntarily lay your eyes on his lips. "But I expect it to be worth it."
You feel a pull toward him, something that's hard to describe but oh so natural to give into. His confidence isn't intimidating but rather attractive, and you can't help but notice how his gaze warms up your whole body. He makes you feel wanted without even doing anything.
But then you think of Thomas. Of the upcoming meeting and your future that depends on it. And you know you can't throw it all away for some silly conversation with a self-confident stranger. No matter how enjoyable it seems to be.
You bite your lip and look away from him.
"That's enough entertainment for today," you put some distance between you two. When you give him a quick glance, you catch a shadow of disappointment on his face.
"Didn't take you for a quitter," the blond comments.
"You should manage your expectations."
"Maybe I should manage yours," he has some nerve. 
"That would be very time-consuming," you suddenly realize that he's sitting in your way, and it looks like he isn't going to move.
"Are you in a rush?"
"I am" — "She isn't," you and Margaret say at the same time. You feel your cheeks heating up as you give her a death stare.
"Has anyone told you that you look charming when you are embarrassed?" he remarks, and you want to wipe the smirk off his face. Preferably with your lips. You mentally scold yourself and push that thought away.
"Does this usually work for you?" you get up, thinking of a way out.
"You tell me," he leans back on his chair with a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly aware that he's blocking your exit.
"Cornering women in taverns is your way of flirting?" you think how to distract him, but nothing springs to mind. "And then what, you just drag them into your man cave?"
"They come voluntarily," it looks like your words struck a chord, but he keeps up the facade of indifference. "I happen to live nearby," he notes casually.
"We both know that's not exactly true," you scoff with a tilt of your head. You are positive that the walk to the castle will take at least thirty minutes.
"Want to bet?" he sits up straight.
"And what do I get out of this?"
He looks you up and down before answering:
"Me."
He's pushing his luck at this point.
You glance around and take note that the tavern is packed with people, and no one is paying attention to you. You also realize that Margaret already sneaked out and is standing at the door. She raises an eyebrow with a silent question, as if asking what are you going to do.
That's when you decide you can push some boundaries, too.
Your eyes are back on the man in front of you. Without giving it a second thought, you step closer to him.
"Was that supposed to make me weak in the knees?" you whisper, and his face expression melts into an amused one. Seizing the moment, you yank your dress up and throw a leg over him. He immediately looks down at the exposed skin of your thigh, his mouth is slightly agape as he's now sitting between your legs. You see him tensing up, his fingers clenching into fists as if he's fighting the urge to put his hands on you. You think that if he does, you're not going anywhere. You wouldn't want to go anywhere — the realization makes you tremble, and you know that you don't have much time.
You boldly place your hand on his shoulder, pressing him back onto the chair.
"I hate to break it to you, but you are not that impressive," you say, throwing your other leg over him and successfully moving away.
When you get to the door, the look on Margaret's face is priceless. You grab her by the arm and drag her outside in a hurry, merging into the crowd of passers-by.
"I need you to explain what the h...," she starts, but you interrupt her.
"Please, don't," you snarl. "Don't say anything, just give me five minutes."
You can't even explain to yourself what happened back there and why you did that. You think of his gaze roaming over your body, the depth of his voice and the curves of his lips. You tell yourself that you need to get him out of your head as soon as possible. You fail miserably.
One week later, you're dining with Thomas at his house, and yet your mind wanders back to the arrogant one-eyed man. Aemond, as you've learned — and it wasn't that you wanted to, but fate had other plans.
And by fate, you mean Margaret.
Once her five minutes were up, she couldn't stop talking. By the time you came home, you got his whole backstory — the second-born son of the King, has two brothers and two sisters, rides the biggest dragon in the world. Overly confident, stubborn, wears an eyepatch because he doesn't want to scare the ladies of the court. Usually doesn't talk much.
Unlike Thomas who gathered his whole family and can't stop blabbing. You struggle to participate in their conversation, giving polite smiles left and right. You don't know what to expect of the evening, and it makes you nervous. And not in a good way. All of a sudden the possibility of marrying Thomas doesn't seem to be the best.
From the corner of your eye, you catch him standing up, clearly readying himself for a speech. He has a manner of pursing his lips every time he's agitated, and it looks weird. That's also how it felt when he kissed you, which is probably the reason you haven't done much kissing after that. You wonder what it's like to kiss Aemond. Just thinking of it makes your heart rate speed up, and you nervously gulp half a cup of wine.
"I gathered all of you today to make an important announcement," he starts his pompous monologue, "that may not come as a surprise to some of you."
You cautiously look at the door.
"But, as of recently, I received inspiration to change the course of my life. And I decided to devote myself to the service of Gods".
You nearly choke on your drink. In all the years you've known Thomas, he's never been to a chapel once.
"And I wanted to grant you this privilege to be the first ones to know."
You've got to be kidding me. You wait for any other announcements — literally anything else — but Thomas goes back to chattering, also accepting pointless congratulations. It takes you ten painfully long minutes to get a chance to talk to him alone.
"May I have a word?" you inquire, and the two of you move to the far end of the room.
"It's about your speech," you clarify. "It might sound silly, but I thought that you were planning... Um," you're trying to formulate your concerns. "I was wondering, how would you describe our relationship? Or the prospect of it, I should say," you give him a tight smile.
"Oh," his face pales slightly.
Your facial expression mirrors his. "Oh"?
"I am actually glad you asked," he awkwardly takes your hands in his, and you notice how sweaty his palms are.
"You know, Y/N, you've been a great companion of mine," his voice is as weak as his smile. "And I am forever grateful for those moments that we shared as they only brought me joy," his hands feel like jelly, and you don't want to hold them. Like, ever.
"But now that I'm choosing to follow my destiny," you do your best to suppress a chuckle at his dramatic phrasing. "I decided that... I need some time to figure out how I feel. About us."
You look at him, dumbfounded, his words sinking in.
"You need... some time?" you drawl, feeling an emotion bubbling up in your chest. You are not sure what it is. "You? Need to think about us?" you repeat, and he nods, his brows furrowed at your reaction.
There's a moment of silence, and then you hear yourself laughing. You can't control it as you're overcome with emotion, your laughter only growing stronger, to the point of you tearing up a bit. The emotion is relief. There's no way you'll ever marry this man.
"I am the one who should be glad, Thomas," you shake his hand while he seems wildly perplexed, all of his guests staring at you. "Thank you for your honesty, really. I hope you will be successful in all your endeavors, marriage included."
He opens his mouth to say something, but you already turned around.
"Y/N? Where are you going?!"
You stop for a second, your thoughts rushing back to the conversation with Margaret. To that evening in the tavern.
"I have a meeting, it's of great importance," you say and quicken your pace. You reach the tavern when it's already getting dark, the weather is cloudy, and your coat is wet in the light drizzle. You walk in a daze as you're torn between being excited and anxious. There is a chance that Aemond won't be there. That he doesn't remember you. That he's with someone else. That he had a change of heart. That he...
You spot him almost immediately after you walk in.
Coincidentally or not, he's sitting at the exact same table you were at the first time you met. You stay still as his eye absentmindedly wanders around the room and then lands on you. Aemond stands up — way too quickly — and you see a well-known grin growing on his face. Your eyes dart to his lips, and the question pops up in your head again.
You feel the pull — and before you can think, your body follows it.
He keeps his gaze on you, his brows rising at the speed of your approach. You cover the distance in a heartbeat, your hands reaching his face, and he slightly flinches, probably because your fingers are cold from being outside. And then you stand on your tiptoes and crash your lips onto his without any hesitation.
He gasps, surprised and frozen for a moment. It takes just a couple of seconds for him to melt into the kiss, and his hands are instantly on your waist, pulling you closer to him. Aemond's lips are way softer than you anticipated — and it's the only thing on your mind. His mouth on yours, warm and exploring, the slow pacing of the kiss that leaves you lightheaded and yearning for more.
He presses your body into his, lifting you up with ease, and your feet leave the ground. You tug his hood further down so it covers most of your face, too, and then you slide your thumb up the sharp line of his jaw. His tongue runs over your lower lip, and you feel a wave of heat rising in your stomach.
You pull away before you can take it too far.
"You remember me?" you ask him, panting.
He hums, his eye focused on your lips.
"Still believe that nothing good comes easy?" you mimic his words, but he ignores your jesting.
"Definitely," Aemond looks you in the eyes, keeping his hands on your waist.
"Is the bet still on?"
"Yes," the corners of his mouth curl.
"Lead the way, then." By the time you reach the castle, the rain is pouring in full force, and your clothes are drenched. The two of you rush through the streets, your hands intertwined, and it feels like it only takes about ten minutes before you sneak into his chambers, both out of breath and giggling.
Only when you take a look around the unfamiliar settings, it suddenly dawns on you that you are all alone with a man you barely know, and your bravery starts fading away.
Whether Aemond notices the change in your mood or not, you can't tell, but he respectfully keeps his distance.
"You need to get out of these," he points at your coat and dress. "They're soaking wet."
"Is this your way of trying to get me naked?" you eye him suspiciously, making Aemond scoff.
"I just don't want you to catch a cold," he honestly states. "I'll fetch you a shirt of mine." Sensing your doubts, he adds: "Don't worry, it's long enough."
He brings you the shirt and politely turns away, going to the other end of the room to light the fireplace. On his way there, he removes the cloak and the jacket, his upper body only covered by the same piece of clothing he gave you. You watch him carefully, noting the movement of his back muscles as he bends down.
The sparkling glow of fire brings you back to reality, and you hastily remove your clothes, leaving the undergarments on, which are luckily dry. You put on his shirt, and it barely reaches your knees, but the material feels nice and comfortable. While Aemond is still busy with the fire, you glance over his room.
It's spacious and simply furnished, and your attention is drawn to a couple of shelves nearby. You look at the tightly packed rows of books, some of the hardcovers are worn out from old age. You catch the familiar naming and pull one of them out, gently flipping through the pages.
"You take interest in philosophy?" his voice startles you. You missed the moment he came back, and when you take your eyes off the book, you see him leaning on the nearest shelf, looking at you inquisitively.
"I do, indeed," you confess. "And I read this one so many times, my own copy pretty much fell apart."
"You can take mine," Aemond offers.
You notice that despite his cockiness, his presence is actually very calming. Everything is easy with him — striking up conversations, making jokes, flirting. Taking his hand in yours, running in the rain. Kissing.
Your heart skips a beat, and you sheepishly move on to another topic:
"Shouldn't you change as well?" you refer to his shirt, but he shakes his head:
"No need."
"Oh, was it the Targaryen's dragon blood that helped you dry up?" you tend to jest when you're nervous, and right now is no exception.
"My cloak is too thick for the water to soak through. But I like your version, too," his lips ripple into a smile.
You can help but smile back: "Thank you for the shirt."
"It looks really good on you," the words smoothly roll off his tongue and ignite the familiar burning deep in your core. He keeps his gaze on your face, your eyes locking for a moment.
You look away first, letting out a timid laugh:
"I must admit, I like this way of flirting better," you place the book back. "But you can cut it short. What's your move?"
"My... move?" Aemond gives you a quizzical look.
"Yes, your big move. Show me," you request eagerly.
"Don't know what you're talking about," he looks down, his aplomb faltering.
"What do you usually do to impress a lady?"
"I don't really need to do anything," Aemond shrugs.
"What a humble individual you are," you chuckle and give him a minute to think.
"So what is it?"
"I just told you...," it seems like he's trying to dodge the topic, which only sparks your curiosity.
"Oh, come on! You guys always have a move. Let me guess, you speak to her in High Valyrian? Men like to talk big," he snorts. "No? Win her over with your...," you gesture at his bookshelves, "...precious collection? Although it's a risky move because what if she's not into reading, that would be awkward" and then it hits you. "Wait, it's the dragon, isn't it? You show her your dragon? Got to make sure it's well-fed, though, otherwise you'll have a date with a roasted —"
"It's my sword," he cuts you off, and you swear you can see him blushing at the confession.
"Um, your sword? Is this a metaphor for someth…"
"Gods, no. I mean the actual sword. The one you grip with your hand and poke people with."
"That description didn't help," you tease, and he groans.
"You know what I mean," Aemond gives you a pointed look, but his face flushed pink, and you can't take him seriously.
"I do, you just look really cute when you are embarrassed," you say cheekily, which makes him huff.
"My apologies. Please elaborate on the sword. How does it work?"
Aemond hesitates but then realizes that you will never let it go, so he gives in:
"I bring my training into the conversation. And then I... show them," he talks with his hands when he's uncomfortable, and you find it endearing.
"And that's it?"
"Pretty much," Aemond nods.
"They watch you train, and that's what does it for the ladies?"
"I don't know why, I never gave it much thought."
"Well, someone should. Can't imagine it ever working on me."
You feel a sudden shift in the air as Aemond slowly looks up at you. You're standing a couple of meters apart, and he's yet to initiate anything, but once again, it only takes a look from him for you to feel a familiar flare-up of the tantalizing desire.
"I'm not going to take you to the training yard in the pouring rain," he concludes.
"But it's not about the place, is it? Must be something about you," now you're the one champing at the bit to see what the fuss is all about.
"I don't have a sword on me."
"Opt for something smaller, I'm sure it will do," you hint at the dagger that you've seen him carry, and wait expectantly for him to agree.
Aemond reluctantly contemplates your suggestion, then sighs and goes to get his dagger which he left next to the cloak.
You wonder if the ladies are attracted to his competitive spirit. If they enjoy the feeling of danger they get at the sight of steel, the cold shine of it, the clang of swords. Or maybe it's the urge to take sides and root for the winner?
And then you see Aemond rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, — and your breath suddenly hitches.
The room is lit by fire, the warmth of it illuminating his skin, casting shadows that frame every muscle of his arms. He takes the dagger in one hand, the movement fast and honed, and your eyes follow it. You notice the scattering of his veins that go down his wrist and into his palm, the blue lines tightening with every swirl. The silver blade catches and reflects the light, but you're focused solely on his flexing muscles.
He's maneuvering the dagger with ease, almost carelessly, yet you know that every motion is well-practiced through years of training. His long fingers grip the hilt, revealing the sharp outline of his knuckles. The steel silently cuts through the air, again and again, but your eyes are glued to his hands. The way they move, the power that he holds in them. The things he can do with them, with his fingers. The way they will feel on your bare skin and in your... You swallow, letting out a shuddered breath.
"Are you weak in the knees yet?" his words bring you out of your trance, and you blink a couple of times, trying to shake the feeling off. Your body is so heated, you're surprised you're not sweating yet.
"Is this the point when the ladies throw themselves at you?" your voice is hoarse, and you take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself.
Aemond stops his movements. You feel your skin tingling with anticipation, waiting for him to finish what he started, but he doesn't budge. For a short while, you're taken aback by the change in his demeanor — and the realization strikes you:
"Wait, how many ladies were here before me?"
"I never said I take them here," he puts the dagger back in its sheath, averting his gaze.
"But you told me that you do your... thing with the sword for them."
"In the training yard, with other people around us, yes."
"So then you just leave them all hot and bothered? Aemond, that is cruel," his actions confuse you, but while you're looking for an explanation, he turns back to you and finally meets your gaze.
"It would've been cruel to lead them on when I feel nothing for them," he reveals, and you discern the raw honesty in his words. And you know exactly what he means. It's the tiresome attempts to find someone who will spark your interest, to spot a connection, all of those efforts leading nowhere and making you feel like you're the one at fault. But you aren't — and he isn't, either.
Aemond looks almost ashamed of letting out something so personal, but you welcome the intimacy of this moment.
"I shall consider myself lucky, then," you say softly.
He gives you that same look that makes you feel like the world around you disappears.
"You are... something else," Aemond mumbles.
You guess that he isn't used to being straightforward about his feelings, nor does he know how to express his affection with words. You really, really want to kiss him again.
The boyish grin reappears on his face:
"Did you mean I left you all hot and bothered?" Aemond narrows his eye.
"I never said that," you smile coyly. "Maybe you should've tried a little harder."
"I happen to have some tricks up my sleeve," he takes a step towards you and, before you can ask for details, you feel his fingers on your ribs as he starts tickling you, and you immediately burst into laughter.
His touches are light, fingers grazing against your clothed skin as he subtly moves you further into the room until your legs bump into his bed. Losing your balance, you fall on it, your back met with the fluffiness of thick blankets. Aemond hovers over you, and you can't stop giggling, trying to wiggle away from his tickles.
Wrapped up in the moment, you make a careless move, your hand brushing up his cheek — and you suddenly see a bright gleam of blue on the right side of his face.
Aemond freezes at the spot, halting his actions, and momentarily flinches away. You are gawking at the sapphire, unable to form a coherent sentence.
He makes a move to fix his eyepatch, but you stop him.
"Don't," you catch his hand mid-air, your grip delicate but firm, and he doesn't fight it. You would've been surprised by your own quick reaction if only your mind wasn't completely occupied with the sight in front of you.
It looks like the gem absorbs all the light in the room, shimmering with various shades of blue. It's cut in a way to imitate a surface of an eye, the sides of the sapphire polished and blending into each other. There's a depth to it, bright sparkles drowning in a color that's close to black, and the spillovers are mesmerizing.
You bring your hand closer to his face, to the area that's been left covered and unloved, and touch the skin with the tip of your finger. He lets you.
"Wow," you breathe out, gently tracing his scar. "This is the most badass thing I've ever seen."
Aemond looks at you in disbelief, his eye fixed on your face, and his lips parted.
"...What?" he manages to ask.
"You look like a pirate. A really badass... sky pirate?" you suggest, and he lets out a light chuckle, still not entirely sure he believes you.
So you shamelessly continue:
"A pirate with his own dragon. The largest one in the Seven Kingdoms as I've heard," you can almost feel him swelling with pride. "He charms the ladies with his fighting skills — and has a gem for an eye? Incredibly irresistible," your index finger circles the area around his sapphire.
He listens attentively, holding his breath.
"A prince who is as good with his sword as he is with his wit, fond of reading and isn't averse to mischief. Any lady of the court would've been fortunate to get a hold of such treasure," you remove the eyepatch and tenderly cradle his face. "Yet I am the one who's been honored to see all of him," you glance from the bright gemstone to his eye and back. "Honestly, it's kind of hard to pick which one I like more...," you're barely able to notice him sharply lower his head, and your words die down.
Without a warning, Aemond covers your lips with his, the intensity of the kiss pulling the air out of your lungs right away. He's been holding back the first time, but he isn't now, and the passion sets you ablaze. His tongue slips into your mouth, easily tangling with yours, and you moan at the contact. Aemond skilfully unbuttons your shirt, and the second his fingers touch your skin, you shiver, the quivering sensation washing over you. His hands slowly slide down your ribcage, tracing the curves of your body, making your back arch, your chest flush against his, your heart pounding. He contours the bend of your hips, then presses his palms there, his touches rough, claiming, burning. You move your fingers up the base of his neck and run them through his hair, and he releases a shaky sigh. Aemond relishes in the feeling of your compliance, the fervor of it, your body being so needy and welcoming, until you are both gasping for air.
"Was that impressive enough?" he rasps, and you look up at him through your lashes, spellbound and breathless. His pupil is dilated, gaze clouded with lust, your noses adjoin.
"Yeah-yes. Yes, very," you utter, at a loss for words.
"Good. Because I'm about to outdo myself," he tightens his grip on your thighs, picking you up and moving into the middle of the bed. Your head barely touches the pillow when his lips are on yours again.
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🔥 my masterlist
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drawnfamiliarfaces · 2 months
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i... wrote a smol fic (っ´▽`*)っ
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also!!!!! If you haven't seen it - shoutout to first ever published fic in Ninja Showdown/My Immortal Soul tags - Lustrous Red by @missadmyre !!!
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I've been thinking a lot about Leonarda's not-death ever since it happened back in April.
("What death?" you might ask, to which I say: "EXACTLY!")
Back in mid-April, Vegetta and Leonarda were mining together in a one-block wide tunnel. A mob (a Petriman) got between the two of them, and Vegetta told Leonarda to step back while he took care of it. At this point, they'd spent enough time together that he trusted Leo to listen to him.
Instead, she was killed by the same sweeping edge bug that killed her siblings.
-
Vegetta's reaction here is what's really interesting to me. Unlike most other parents on the Island, there are no shouts or tears – only a very brief "Hmm" and then silence. He very quietly takes stock of the situation, saying "Vegetta, no" and wondering aloud why Leo didn't defend herself. In chat, Foolish says "It was a bug, right? LAG" to which Vegetta slowly responds "Yes, lag. Bug." (Despite this, Foolish still asks "WHAT HAPPENED" in chat, though Vegetta doesn't reply).
Instead, he creates a slightly wider space in the tunnel where Leo's body is. He continues quietly taking stock of the situation, wondering why Leo didn't defend herself (which is what necessitated his intervention). She'd been lagging a lot that day, and he figures that must be the cause, and eventually when Leo re-appears out of thin air in the middle of the cave and collects her stuff, she confirms that the lag got to her and that's why she didn't fight the mob.
Now here's where things get interesting:
Vegetta checks the tab list. Online, it's just him, Leonarda, Roier, and Foolish. He quietly tells Leonarda "The body has already disappeared, and without a body, there is no crime. Nothing is happening. Did you die?" Leo shakes her head, and Vegetta shakes his head too, and in the kind voice he uses sometimes with Leo, he says: "I believe you have not died. Where is the body? It isn't anywhere, no mija. If it was a mistake, it was a mistake."
Leo says: "I saw Diosito (God) pa, and I was scared. God, what am I doing here?" and Vegetta laughs, telling her it's alright. Leo says "No pasa nada (don't worry / nothing happened)" and Vegetta says: "And the people who are watching us have not seen it either." To Foolish and Roier, he messages: "Secreto."
And the funniest thing about this is it worked.
Not a single person spoke about it. I saw this entire event go down live and I didn't see a WHISPER of what transpired among fans. I can't even remember if the QSMP official accounts talked about it (they sure didn't mention it in Vegetta's recap of the day). We could discuss this in meta terms of course– Leo was having known lag issues that day, Vegetta's beloved by the admins so of course they're willing to turn a blind eye rather than slap a "?" over Leonarda's life on the Eggstatistics, but meta talk isn't what I'm interested in here.
I'm interested in q!Vegetta, the weird "god-adjacent" aura he's got, and the way the universe bends to his will.
Before he took a break from the server, Rubius seemed to be a caretaker for the Eggs who died (for example, he was present when Maxo, Quackity, and Mariana & Slime said their final goodbyes to Trumpet, Tilin, and JuanaFlippa). Because of his role as an "angel" and some of his dialogue during the early days of the server, it's not a stretch to say he probably came to collect any Egg who lost a life. I can imagine he did the same when he saw Leonarda die – that is, until Vegetta said "And the people who are watching us have not seen it either." Realistically, we know Vegetta was saying this to Chat (and possibly the admins as well), but again, we're looking at this from an "in-universe" perspective.
I wonder if Vegetta was aware of Rubius' role, and this was his way of telling Rubius "No. I won't allow that to happen." We know Rubius has a soft-spot for Vegetta (and we also know that Rubius was cast out of heaven several months later) so it makes me wonder if these two instances are connected.
Either way, this isn't the first time the laws of the QSMP universe have bent for Vegetta, and I certainly don't think it'll be the last.
Rubius or no, Leo didn't die that day.
Vegetta made sure of it.
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chrysanthemum9484 · 1 year
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Danny was immortal... Yeah a shocker right? Well here is the thing. Danny unlike Vlad walks the line between life and dead. He is a pure halfa and he gets the best of both worlds. For example ghosts are immune to human illnesses and humans are immune to ghost illnesses and as such Danny is immune to both ghost and human illnesses. His ghost half protects him from dangerous to his human half substances. His human half helps his ghost half form resistance to Blood Blossoms even if it takes a few good years. And so on and so on.
But most importantly he is immortal. No one walks the line between life and death and stays with regular human lifespan.
Danny had been a hero for over 10 years before he retired. He was simply no longer needed. And when new human villains popped up new heroes popped up as well before Danny had the chance to decide if he wanted to return from retirement.
Danny thought that he was the only in-between walker until he met him. Jason Todd-Wayne. He was young. Young enough to be Danny's grandson. But age didn't matter for in-between walkers. They were immortal after all. What really came as a surprise though was that Jason had no ghost half. He was more like a liminal ability wise yet he walked the very same line Danny does.
Also it came to Danny as no surprise that Jason and his fam are heroes. After all it takes a special kind of person (hero, villain, something in between) to to make someone an in-between walker.
What did catch him by surprise is that absolutely everyone connected to the Batfam thought that he was a civilian. A regular human. Despite the fact that he never actually hid even if he didn't use his abilities when he didn't need to. If he had to he would use them but otherwise no he won't.
Naturally the illusion was broken when he used his abilities. When Ra's Al Ghul thought that it would be funny to capture all of the bats and torture them. Of course Danny has to arrive in his entire Phantom glory. And he has had a century to polish the fighting style he cultivated while being a hero for 10 years.
Ra's never stood a chance. Not against a in-between walker, not against Phantom who has trained across the timelines because Clockwork decided to send him on extended missions. Yes, Ra's has lived for longer, experienced more than Danny will be able to imagine for a while but he has been defeated by Batman more than once, Batman who is a regular human and a child when compared to Ra's. Danny just like Batman is a child when compared to Ra's but he just like the caped detective easily defeats Ra's. But most importantly Danny's body holds more power than Superman's possibly ever could.
So naturally Danny almost literally wiped the floor with Ra's. And that alarmed the Bats and the Birds. An overpowered meta just moped the floor with Ra's when even Superman would be hard-pressed to do so. And the meta clearly did that effortlessly too.
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4dbarbie-archive · 3 months
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4dbarbie highlights: All is in your mind
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Responsibilities come when you're identified with any person, including Sandra. Consciousness is duality; pain and pleasure will always exist in it, as will life and death, and beginnings and endings. You are who you are so the world is as it is. Nothing is wrong with your world, the world and the self are one and perfect. You take Vanessa to be yourself and the world instantly and undeniably follows. The seen raises with the seer. First realize that your world is only a reflection of your self and stop finding fault with the reflection. Attend to yourself, set yourself right — mentally and emotionally. See you are neither Vanessa nor Sandra. The physical ALWAYS follows automatically, you don't have to look for anything. Think you're Vanessa? You're so right, you are! Here's proof! Think you're Sandra? You're so right, you are! Here's proof. All is in your mind. You're imagining it all. Including me and this answer.
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plainclothesdisaster · 9 months
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Red Knight - Chapter 1
DP x DC | Dead on Main
Jason Todd encounters one Danny Fenton in the streets of Gotham and suddenly he's thrown into a world of ghosts and monsters. Will he embrace this life? Or will it just end up with him dead again?
Read on AO3 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
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“Why are you following me?” Jason pressed his arm against the stranger’s throat, pinning him to the alley wall.
Under the sodium glow of the streetlight Jason got his first good look at the guy. Tall, dark hair, maybe his age or a little younger. Not the type he typically saw in the Narrows- he lacked that certain air of despair. The stranger had been following Jason since he’d left his safe house. Maybe the guy thought Jason would be an easy mugging target. Wasn’t he in for a surprise.
The stranger lifted his face and smiled. His blue eyes glowed with a green ethereal light. “How long have you been dead?”
He said it with the casual nonchalance of talking about the weather. Jason tensed, pressing harder on his arm. How the hell did this guy know?
The guy didn’t flinch. He didn’t seem bothered at all. That could only mean one thing.
Jason steadied his breath. “Metas aren’t welcome in Gotham.”
“I’m not a meta. And neither are you. But that doesn’t mean we’re totally human either.”
The stranger tilted his chin up, his smile broadened. Behind his lips he revealed a pair of fangs glinting, taunting.
From nowhere Memories of the pit stirred under Jason’s heart— rage and pain and fear. His pulse raced faster. His arm pressed harder.
As if responding to the pressure the guy’s face softened. “Oh. It’s worse than I thought.” He sounded genuinely concerned. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Shut up!” Somehow the pity stung worse than the taunts.
Jason pulled his fist back to punch the look off the guy’s face, but he didn’t get the chance to. The guy went translucent. He moved through Jason’s arm like a ghost but then suddenly his hands were solid against his chest, pushing with surprising force, sending him stumbling backward to the slimy concrete.
He fell prone and then the stranger was on top of him. Adrenaline flashed through him- too late. His breath clogged in his throat as cold clutch of power hit him. The strangers face twisted in concentration as he put a hand to and then through Jason’s chest.
The fury of the pit raged and roared, nearly as loud as it had when Jason had taken those first screaming breaths back alive. Jason fought, punching and clawing but the guy held form, unshakable. His ears rang and pain sang through his whole body and it felt like he was turning inside out and then—
Quiet.
Quiet, empty relief.
He breathed out. A cool weight sat heavy under his heart where previously there had been a nest of scorpions.
Jason’s mouth fell open. The guy pulled his hand back with a sigh and stood up.
“That should help I think.”
Jason looked down at his chest- unscathed. A thousand questions scrolled through his head. The one that made it out of his lips: “What the fuck?”
The guy shrugged as he stepped back. “Gotta look out for you. You’re one of mine.”
One of mine. Those words sent a shiver through Jason. This guy was obviously a dangerous meta. Jason had been embarrassingly helpless to stop him doing whatever it was he just did. Time for some answers.
Jason rolled up to a fighting crouch and pulled a handgun from his belt. He leveled its comforting weight at the not-meta meta. “I don’t belong to anybody.”
The stranger’s smile came back, and so did his fangs. Jason bit his tongue.
The guy pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket and scrawled for a moment, completely nonplussed by the gun pointed at him. “Call me if it gets bad again?”
Jason didn’t move. He gripped the gun tighter. “Who are you?”
Still that smile. “I’m Danny.”
And then he vanished. Not a Batman fade-into-the-shadows type of vanish. One second he was there and the next- nothing but air. The paper he’d written on fluttered down to the ground in the place where he’d stood.
Jason lowered the gun. He got up to walk away, ready to chalk up the whole experience to some meta bullshit he didn’t want to think about again.
But a new weight sat heavy in his chest. The quiet lingered in his head. Whatever that guy did, it made him feel more calm, more in control of himself than he had in a long time. Halfway through that thought the wind picked up and threatened to blow the paper away. Jason’s stomach dropped as he scrambled to catch it. He closed his fist around it just as it reached the street.
He uncrumpled it between his fingers. A phone number, nothing else. On the other side— a receipt for bat burger. What the fuck.
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