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dittomander · 2 years

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Advice for New AO3 Users

In the vein of all those "guide for new tumblr users" posts, bc someone might as well make one, right? ao3 itself has a pretty robust FAQ that goes into far more detail on the mechanics of the site than I can realistically cover, so my main focus is going to be on common concerns/issues I've seen myself:

General Site Notes

or: AO3 is not actually a social media site:

there is no algorithm. there are tags you can search and stats you can sort by, and that's how you're gonna find stuff to read, and that's how readers are gonna find your work. Even tumblr at least has the explore tab; AO3 truly has no "recommended" feature.

like yes, getting more kudos and comments will bump your fic in the "sort by kudos/comments" filters, but this isn't a targeted algorithm pushing your fic toward certain people. there's no way to be "good for the algorithm."

so the way you get people to engage with your work is by presenting it in a way that makes it easy for people to find what they're looking for. You will want to tag your fic appropriately. You will want to write a summary. You will NOT want to be self-deprecating about your skill. Remember, your fic is likely one of hundreds, if not more. If people can't gauge what to expect, or if you tell them to expect nothing, then there's always another fic they can check out instead.

a minor thing, but Wattpad folks, no one on AO3 calls them "books". Like I'm not gonna say you have to stop but just understand that when you call your fic a book, you are advertising to everyone on the site that you are an Outsider.

Tagging Guidelines

honestly I think I see "I don't know how to tag things" with even more frequency than "I don't know how to write summaries" but I'd argue that for AO3 the tagging is probably more important since tags are what people use to actually filter/search for fics, so some general tips on weird things I've seen:

Archive Warnings: these are the major character death/underage/noncon/graphic violence tags, as well as the "chose not to use archive warnings" and "no warnings apply". Those latter two are inherently incompatible with any of the former four. If you say "no archive warnings apply", then using an archive warning anyway is just confusing. Similarly, "chose not to use archive warnings" and any of the actual warnings just... doesn't make any sense. If you're using an archive warning, then you, uh, did choose to use archive warnings. I've seen people tag with all 6 at once. This does not inspire confidence in the quality of the fic, it does not draw people in - it just makes people doubt that you know what you're doing.

Relationships: the "&" is for your platonic/familial/friendship relationships. the "/" is for your romantic/sexual relationships. I've seen people make cases for both for QPRs, but let's be real most fics are not about those so that's a bit of an edge case. Please remember that tags are used for finding and filtering -- when you mis-tag a "/" as a "&", not only will people looking for a romantic fic of your couple have a harder time finding it, but you're also making it so that the people that don't want to see that pairing can't filter it out.

Characters: You probably don't need to tag your OCs by name. Remember: finding and filtering. If you're the only person using them, then having those names in your character list aren't going to actually communicate anything about the fic or help people find it, because people outside of your circle aren't going to know who those characters are. This can also be confusing to the tag wranglers and people new to the fandom, who won't know if those characters are even in the source material or not. The multitude of variants on the "Original Character" tag is fine for most circumstances.

Additional Tags: This is the section for any other information you want to convey about your work, and it's the section I see people struggle the most with. Suggestions for the sorts of things you can cover here include: genre, timeline notes (i.e. pre-canon/post-canon/canon-divergent/AU/missing scene/etc.), tropes, themes, content warnings, and other features of the story. If you're having a hard time coming up with things to tag, AO3 will have suggestions if you start typing something. Remember that the goal is to communicate information about your fic that you think people might want to either find or avoid.

People using the tags for brief author's notes is also a pretty common thing. The keyword is brief, though. Lengthy commentary in the tags can distract from the actual content tags and can mess with screen readers.

Going overboard with tags is also an issue for that same reason. This is a "use your best judgement" type of thing.

Use your best judgement on what you consider "in" your work to tag. If a character only shows up for an irrelevant background scene, for example, does it really make sense to tag them? People looking for that character will be disappointed that they were barely in it, and people looking to avoid that character might just filter out your fic even if they wouldn't have been put off by the cameo.

You can edit your tags after posting a work, at any time. As the content of your story changes, you can update the tags accordingly. You don't actually have to tag everything that you plan to include in your story right at the start, and in fact, you probably shouldn't. See the above bullet for why. If your fic is abandoned or otherwise slow to update, having misaligned tags can be confusing or disappointing.

Also: DON'T CENSOR TAGS. Your fic will not get taken down for having the word "die" in the tags I promise. Censoring tags just messes with the filters and makes it harder for people to avoid potentially triggering content.

Posting Tips and Tricks

bc there's a lot of weird formatting happening in fics lately and I'm not sure how common knowledge this stuff actually is:

there is a pair of buttons in the "Work Text" section labelled "HTML" and "Rich Text", respectively. AO3 defaults you to HTML. The average user is gonna want to switch that to Rich Text. HTML gets you far more direct control over how your work appears, but if you're just using a basic word processor's formatting options, it's gonna be way easier to just copy-paste into Rich Text.

paragraph breaks in the Rich Text editor are already double spaced. You only need one return between paragraphs. If you manually double-space, or if you copy-paste in something double-spaced, there's going to be a ton of empty, floating space between your paragraphs when you actually post.

when you post chapters for a multi-chapter fic, you will generally have the option to add a chapter specific summary and notes. This is not the case for chapter 1. When you post the first chapter of the fic, the summary and notes that you wrote are associated with the entire fic, not just that chapter.

What this means for summaries is that if you want a Chapter 1 specific summary, separate from the fic summary, you'll have to go back and edit that in after you post it.

Notes follow the same principle, but I specifically want to mention end notes: If you add your "chapter 1" end notes at story creation instead of editing them in later, those notes are now associated with the entire fic, which means that as you add new chapters, they will no longer appear at the end of chapter 1 and instead get repeatedly pushed to the end of the latest chapter.

Editing an existing chapter won't send a notification email to subscribers or bump the fic in the "recently updated" list, no matter how much you've added, so no one will have an easy way to know there's new content. If you want to make sure people are seeing your work, you'll want to either post your additions as new chapters or just wait to post your story at all until the chapter you're writing is actually finished.

Next to the Post button is a Preview button for seeing what your work will look like before you actually post it. This is extremely helpful, especially if you're using the HTML editor, to make sure everything looks the way you're expecting. There's many a wall of text in the archive that could've been saved if their author had just checked first to see if it looked good.

Feedback Etiquette

readers: 99 out of 100 authors are going to absolutely love getting comments. you do not have to worry about being annoying or not mattering or not knowing what to say. If you leave a comment on someone's fic, you will probably make their day, and it may even lead to more conversation and/or content.

that said, it is generally considered poor form to offer unsolicited criticism on someone's fic, no matter how well-intentioned or constructive it might be. Remember, fan authors are hobbyists - they're writing for the fun of it, and it can be really disheartening when something you're doing For Fun is met with judgement. Try to remember that fic authors are real people, behind the screen. They created something that you can read, for free.

writers: what that means for you is that if you genuinely want concrit on your work, you will have to explicitly welcome it somewhere in your notes.

HOWEVER: writers - you are also not entitled to comments in any way, shape, or form, and the line between encouraging people to comment and guilting them into doing so is actually not that fine. Comments are not some sort of admission price to your work - that's already covered by someone spending their time to read it. Please remember that the people reading your fics are real people, too. They do not exist solely to provide you with validation.

also, frankly... some of you could probably afford to offer some benefit of the doubt to comments outside the mold of what you consider "good". The person who asked when the next update is probably doesn't think you're an automaton that exists to write tirelessly for them - they probably just like your fic and are excited to see more. The person that said your fic reminds them of show XYZ probably wasn't accusing you of plagiarism - they're probably just making connections, which is like, analysis 101. The ideas of "it doesn't matter what you comment just comment!!!" and "these are the DOs and DON'Ts of commenting!" aren't exactly the most compatible. The only reason I even isolated concrit above is because that's actually explicitly critical - most things people list as "incorrect" ways to comment are, uh, probably pretty benign.

look, the tl;dr on comments is just please remember that you are not the only real person on the internet and that communication is hard, so try your best to be kind and support one another.

On Kudos

I'm pulling this out to its own section actually bc the feedback section was getting very long. Anyway:

Kudos is a measure of popularity, not a measure of quality. There's some poorly written stuff out there that's swimming in kudos and some absolute gems that have next to nothing.

Factors that can play into how many kudos a fic gets: the time posted, how many places the fic was crossposted, pre-establishment of the author, fandom size, crossover familiarity, ship/character/trope popularity. Again, there's no algorithm for this - these factors don't affect a fic's relative popularity because of some behind the scenes code that's playing favorites, it's just dependent on what people are most likely to look for or be willing to check out.

the more niche something is, the less attention it's going to get, and that's something you've kinda got to be prepared to accept.

what all this means is there's not really any value in comparing your stats to other writers. You're just setting yourself up for disappointment the second something disproportionate happens - of course Bonnie BNF's fics are getting more attention than yours; she's been writing the fandom's most popular ship for years already. She has ten times your audience out of the gate.

That said, quality is still a factor. It's not the end-all-be-all deciding criteria for what's going to get a fic attention, but it does matter. And I'm not saying this to be cold or disparaging, but to be realistic. I've seen people fall just as readily into the trap of citing their work's subject's unpopularity as the only reason for their lack of feedback, all while ignoring glaring issues with their pacing, grammar, or characterization, as I've seen people fall into the trap of beating themselves up for not being able to match the pace of a fandom's more established authors. Sometimes the answer to "how do I get more kudos" really is just "write better fic."

Look, at the end of the day, though, neither the attitude of "I am but the helpless victim of fandom preference" nor "omg my work must be such shit" is actually very helpful. There's always room for improvement, and fandom can also be a bit of a crapshoot. Your best bet is to just focus on how you feel about your work rather than on how strangers on the internet do, because that's damn near impossible to predict. Yes, validation and feedback is important, believe me, I'm a writer too, I know, but you've gotta have some intrinsic motivation to be happy as a writer.

So that's about all that I personally wanted to cover - like I said at the start, the AO3 FAQ is pretty good, and this post wasn't really meant to be comprehensive. I'm more than welcome to any site veterans that want to add more tips on things they've seen, especially re: posting and tagging advice.

Otherwise though, the main takeaways here are just be nice to people, be honest about your fic's content, manage your expectations, and please preview before you post - your readers' eyes will thank you.

#ao3 #archive of our own #writing #fanfiction #long post #idk someone's probably made something like this already #but every 'how to use tumblr' post under the sun crossed my dash last month #and I didn't see any posts w/ tips on ao3 #i dunno maybe this is all common knowledge and not helpful #but at least in my circles whenever I share the 'html/rich text' or the 'chapter 1 summary' thing someone says its new info

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stark-tony · 3 years

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tododeku fic recs

* = incomplete

meet you again someday (after we take the long way ’round) by theroyalsavage

summary: Midoriya Izuku's life is saved by a boy with the strongest Quirk he has ever seen.

Eventually - inevitably - he falls in love.(An AU in which Todoroki never attends UA, they never clash at the sports festival, but they come together all the same.)

pairings: tododeku

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

that is just the way by celestialfics

summary: Shouto has his first sleepover.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: none

what is right and what is easy by theroyalsavage

summary: Midoriya Izuku is not chosen to represent Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament. He does not slay a dragon, or rescue innocents, or brave a maze of dark magic. He does not win accolades, or fame, or glory.

Instead, Izuku meets the son of the greatest dark wizard of the age, a Durmstrang student with hair like a sunrise and eyes like a war. And maybe, he just might win something else.

pairings: tododeku, kiribaku, tsuchako

tags: fluff, angst

warnings: none

First Time For Everything by kazzarole

summary: Midoriya is the catalyst of many of the 'firsts' in Shouto's life--it just makes sense that Shouto should share his first kiss with him, too.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: none

alone together by celestialfics

summary: Five times when other Class 1-A kids notice Todoroki and Midoriya in their own world.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: none

A Simple Warmth by patster223

summary: “I’m trying to make Todoroki a sweater for his birthday, but…” Izuku pokes at the tangle of yarn. “It’s more complicated than I thought it would be.”

In which Izuku sucks at knitting, his classmates are eager to help out, Todoroki finally gets to be cozy, and knitting is a vector for romance.

pairings: tododeku

tags:

warnings: none

Conventional Taste by WowBoring

summary: He didn’t think it would matter if Midoriya were taking him to a sewer convention; it was probably still going to be the highlight of his Golden Week.

In order to avoid a visit from his unpleasant grandparents Todoroki attends a hero convention with Midoriya, and learns a few things along the way.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: abuse

pls respond by Esselle

summary: 'Midoriya: UR SO CUTE

Shouto chokes on nothing. How is he supposed to respond to that? Is he supposed to respond at all?

Midoriya: Look at your big head aaaaaaaaaaaaah Midoriya: *Image Attached*

Oh, Shouto thinks. He was talking about Shouto's Nitotan, which is now smashed to one of Izuku's cheeks in the image Izuku just sent, as Izuku squeezes it joyfully. Even if Izuku wasn't talking to him directly, the butterflies in Shouto's stomach feel a bit joyful, too.

He types out: I wish I were that Nitotan right now. Then he snorts, and erases it.'

Izuku has a wide variety of special moves, but his Key Smash might be the most powerful of all.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

i can keep a secret, could you? by handcrusher (ameliafromafairytale)

summary: The last thing Todoroki wants is for his father to figure out that 1) he's gay and 2) he's dating the boy he's supposed to overcome as a hero. So, he and Midoriya devise a plan.

Just how long can they keep it up?

pairings: tododeku, tsuchako, momojirou

tags:

warnings:

hold on tight by lunalou

summary: "What are you doing?" Shouto asks.

"Hugging you." Midoriya returns in a patient voice. His arms tighten around Shouto's waist and he presses his forehead more firmly against his back. "You know it's a hug, Shouto-kun. Don't play dumb."

or, five times somebody from 1-a hugs todoroki and the one time he hugs them first

pairings: tododeku

tags:

warnings:

If I'm Being Honest.... by I_dont_know_man

summary: Midoriya scrunched up his nose in confusion. “Uh, Shouto, why are you glaring at me like that?”

“I-” Todoroki began to lie, until nausea slammed him like a door to any room that Bakugou entered. “I--” Todoroki grit his teeth, and glared daggers into the wall behind Midoriya. Goodbye, friendship. It had been absolutely divine while it lasted. “Because you’re very attractive.”

They say honesty is the best policy, but it sure as hell had a knack for Todoroki making a complete and utter fool of himself.

In which Todoroki is placed under a mysterious truth-telling quirk and suffers, Uraraka laughs at him, Midoriya is confused but smitten nonetheless, and Twitter is the thirstiest site on the planet.

pairings: tododeku, kiribaku

tags: humor, fluff

warnings:

Guiding Light by furihatachlookie

summary: It was his mother's idea to enroll him at the local elementary school. His father believed a private tutor was better, but nobody can argue with a mother who's made up her mind, and a balanced exposure to kids his own age sways his father's judgement enough to agree and sign the papers.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, angst

warnings:

Todoroki and Yaoyorozu's Elite Study Club by hanwritesstuff (hannahkannao)

summary: “Well, as I see it, we have two options.” Shouto holds up two fingers. “We can either ignore this and pretend it never happened or... not.” He doesn't know which one he wants. “What does not entail, exactly?” Yaoyorozu asks. “...I don't know.”

In which Todoroki accidentally learns something about Yaoyorozu, Yaoyorozu accidentally learns something about Todoroki, and they spend a considerable portion of their study sessions... not studying.s

pairings: tododeku, momojirou

tags: fluff, humor

warnings:

Do What You Will, If That's What You Want by stanzas

summary: “What do you mean you’re retiring?” Bakugou asks nicely, or at least as nicely as someone like Bakugou can ask. The question is phrased more like a demand.“

Call it a mid-life crisis,” Shouto answers, like Bakugou asked him what the weather would be tomorrow, and takes a deep sip from his coffee. “I’m thinking of changing careers.”

The world of heroes is quick to adapt to surprises, but Pro Hero Entropy’s (very premature) retirement announcement throws almost everyone for a pretty impressive loop.

pairings: tododeku

tags: hurt/comfort, angst, humor

warnings:

extra, extra! by rythyme (pugglemuggle)

summary: Shouto & Creati: ACTUALLY Dating?! by Hitachi Hitomi at September 18, 2047 3:42 pm."Ever since heartthrob

Todoroki Shouto and the Everything Hero "Creati" made their official debuts, the two 22-year-old heroes have been nothing but professional towards each other. But was this all a sham to cover up the truth?"

Or: The media thinks Shouto and Creati are dating. Hint: they aren't. A multimedia TodoDeku & MomoJirou fanfic told through news articles, gossip columns, twitter, tumblr, text messages, and more.

pairings: tododeku, momojirou

tags: fluff, humor

warnings:

you broke the dark and my whole earth shook by aloneintherain

summary: Shouto had imagined himself as the country’s top hero for decades. Endeavour had put those images in his head when he was a child, and they had stayed there, growing like a fungus, until Shouto had reached adulthood. Even now, he was only just beginning to realise he didn’t have to live his life according to almost thirty-year-old decisions made by his abuser. He could do more. Be more. Outside of the hero community.

Izuku gets a job offer in America. Somehow, this brings Shouto and Izuku closer than ever before.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings:

count your blessings, not your flaws by PitViperOfDoom

summary: Midoriya Izuku has never been asked out, confessed to, or flirted with, except as a joke.

pairings: tododeku

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: bullying

call the fire department (i'm burning up with love) by Edgedancer

summary: An (abridged) list of things Todoroki Shouto did not have before U.A.: Loud neighbors. Fire alarms. Friends. Midoriya Izuku.

pairings: tododeku

tags:

warnings:

long nights and daydreams by dreamtowns

summary: According to the public, Pro Heroes Deku and Entropy are an amazing Hero Duo, best friends, and the most eligible bachelors in the world. According to their fans, they’re head over heels in love with one another yet oblivious to the others’ feelings. According to their friends and family, they’ve been in love with one another since high school, but, for reasons unknown to them, refuse to act upon said feelings.

According to said heroes, they have been (secretly) married for six years.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings:

extra-salty/twitter-verse series by SportsAnimeRuinedMyLife (KnightOfRage)

summary: In his third year at UA, Todoroki Shouto works in a burger place, catches on fire and falls in love. Only two of those things are on purpose.

Or...Todoroki Shouto's exciting adventures in customer service.

part one of the extra salty/twitter-verse

pairings: tododeku, kiribaku

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

More Than Skin-Deep by Emmeri

summary: It was a fact, really. That he was ugly. Having a scar which takes up half his face kind of does that, in Todoroki's eyes. So why does he overhear the girls call him the class pretty boy?

He'll just have to ask Midoriya about it; he has too little filter to tell anything but the truth.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, angst

warnings:

Your Biggest Fan by Latios

summary: He opens the bag on the floor to see what could have been left in there-- and promptly freezes, staring at the contents inside.

“Midoriya.” He calls.

“Hm?”

“You bought our hero merch?”

Aka, Class 1-A starts to see themselves appear on merchandise in their local stores. Todoroki tries not to buy things, and fails.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, humor

warnings:

Marry The Mole by Haurvatat

summary: “You're going to break up with him before he can propose.”

The hands went down and the steel wall of Midoriya's entire being went up. “...Excuse me?”

“And in return-” Enji gritted his teeth, “-I will deposit 20 million yen in your checking account.”

The gay drama fic based on a tumblr post absolutely zero people wanted to see but YOU'RE GETTING ANYWAY

pairings: tododeku

tags: humor

warnings:

ascended fanboy by aloneintherain

summary: “I want to honour them,” Izuku said softly. “When I cosplay, I just want people to see how amazing these heroes are.”

Shouto brushed a thumb over his cheek, careful not to smudge his makeup. “They do. I promise.”

Or: Izuku and Shouto attend HeroCon, five years post-graduation.

pairings: tododeku

tags:

warnings:

#bnha recs #my fic recs #abuse tw #bullying tw

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bulkyphrase · 3 years

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Everybody & the Avengers Team

I've got a new fic rec list for you!

The stories in the "X & the Avengers Team" tags focus on one person's relationship to the Avengers team as a whole. Courtesy of AO3's tag browse and Excel, here's a ranked list of the top 20 most popular pairings:

Tony Stark | 2470 total, 240 OTP

Peter Parker | 2255 total, 85 OTP

Steve Rogers | 602 total, 56 OTP

Loki | 387 total, 26 OTP

Natasha Romanov | 308 total, 35 OTP

Clint Barton | 268 total, 46 OTP

Bruce Banner | 244 total, 15 OTP

Thor | 209 total, 7 OTP

Avengers Team | 174 total, 24 OTP

James "Bucky" Barnes | 156 total, 7 OTP

Wanda Maximoff | 143 total, 4 OTP

Phil Coulson | 105 total, 9 OTP

Darcy Lewis | 91 total, 6 OTP

Matt Murdock | 60 total, 8 OTP

Sam Wilson | 53 total, 5 OTP

Nick Fury | 41 total, 5 OTP

Harry Potter | 40 total, 0 OTP

Pepper Potts | 31 total, 1 OTP

Vision | 29 total, 2 OTP

Stiles Stilinski | 25 total, 0 OTP

In chart form, if you like charts:

Notes:

The numbers after the names are the number of stories tagged with that ship. OTP means the number of stories where that is the only relationship tagged on the story. Numbers are accurate as of July 2021.

Story Recommendations

For your reading pleasure, included below is at least one fic rec for each pairing except the crossovers from non-Marvel fandoms (apologies to Mr. Potter & Mr. Stilinski). Most are gen fic, and even in the ones with a romantic pairing, romance is not the focus.

Tony Stark

As Subtle As Cognitive Recalibration by petroltogo (Teen, 8949) tumblr: @tonystarktogo

Standing inside his penthouse, listening to Rogers, Barton and Banner explain to Fury how they just happened to stumble over the Tesseract on a routine security check of Stark Tower’s roof and wouldn’t you know, they’ve managed to fight off the looming alien invasion before it could really start and secure the missing overpowered nightlight is one of the most surreal situations Tony has ever had the displeasure of experiencing.

Peter Parker

the worst field trip ever by shrill_fangirl_screaming (Teen, 3420) tumblr: @i-am-having-an-emotion

"We're on a field trip," Peter said. "To here. And Tony decided to be our tour guide and absolutely embarrass me, so can you please help get him under control?"

Which is how Peter Parker, architect of his own destruction, ended up with not one but two superhero pseudo-dads being annoying on his school field trip.

Steve Rogers

Do You Remember Being Happy? ('Cause I Sure Don't) by GalaxyThreads (Teen, 11022) tumblr: @galaxythreads

That seems about right. He doesn't know how he knows that, though. He does have vague memories of an annoyed fondness at finding peanut butter in some sort of jam. Thor's doing, because he doesn't see the point of using two knives when one works just as fine. He knows that. How does he know that? He knows all those little details, though, almost innately. How can he know these strangers so deeply?

Everyone else below the cut!

Loki

Proprietary by TheThirdMarauder (Teen, 7639)

No, Loki simply wants the Avengers conquered. The details of whom, how, and when matter not. Unless, of course, said details interfere with Loki's plans. Then, well, then none can fault him for protecting his own interests.

Loki has always been exceptionally good at lying to himself.

Natasha Romanov

What Girls Are Made Of by enigma731 (Teen, 4613) tumblr: @enigma731

She rolls her eyes but does as he’s indicated, using his shoulders to leverage herself up onto his back, her arms around his neck and her legs hugging his waist.

“You know,” he says blithely, “this isn’t really what I tend to picture when I think of a hot girl riding me.”

Natasha groans, deciding that if his sense of humor gets them arrested, she’ll kill him herself. “Just go.”

Clint Barton

Dear Clint Barton (circa age 7) by pollyrepeat (Teen, 4221)

With a normal person, this might count as blackmail material, but a) this is a case of mutually assured destruction if ever there was one, and b) Fury is immune to embarrassment. Not just in the regular, Tony Stark way, either, oh no. Things that could possibly end up being embarrassing to Fury get somehow warped and changed until they go from mortifying all the way over into useful and/or good for his image. It’s like a superpower.

Carrying Clint’s small child self around on his shoulders more than once has probably already hit the interagency rumour mill as an example of Fury’s innate awesomeness: good with rocket launchers and small children.

Also available as a podfic!

Bruce Banner

They're Not Wrong by Trumpeteer34 (Teen, 10163)

As Tony began to pace around the hole in the road to keep himself from shooting repulsors at the nearby buildings in a fit of rage, Thor began to study the nearby area. There was no sign of either the Hulk or Bruce Banner beyond the crater. The surrounding area, aside from the rubble of the fight, held no clue as to their friend’s location.

“Guys, he’s gone,” Tony growled into the communicator on their private line, drawing Thor out of his darkening thoughts. “Someone tranqed him and took him. He’s gone.”

Honorary mention goes to the Responsible Science series by @letteredlettered - the stories don’t have the "Avengers Team & Bruce Banner" tag, but they could, and they are amazing. The best Bruce Banner writing I've ever come across.

Thor

Fortunately, I Am Mighty by onward_came_the_meteors (General, 3062)

Steve was the first one to speak. “Are you okay?”

Thor nodded. Which was a bad idea, as it turned out, because now there were little gray lights flashing in front of his eyes. “I’m fine.” Absolutely everyone narrowed their eyes, and he added, “But, uh. Could we possibly not get back in the car just yet?”

Avengers Team

Civil Wasn't by onward_came_the_meteors (General, 7123)

"We're having an ideological conflict here," Tony stated with disbelief. "Are you telling me you still want to go out to dinner?"

"It's a standing engagement, Tony," Rhodey reminded him.

"Not you too—"

"We already had to reschedule from Friday when Natasha was..." Rhodey frowned. "What were you doing?"

The question was directed toward Natasha, who shrugged and said, "Spy stuff."

James "Bucky" Barnes

You Know How I Feel, aka, The Adventures of Bucky and Muffy the Dinosaur by ifeelbetter (Not Rated, 4511) tumblr: @ifeelbetterer

“As you may have heard, Bucky Barnes, a.k.a. The Winter Soldier, recently rescued a tiny part-robot dinosaur during the Avengers’ battle with Dr. Doom in Antarctica,” the other newscaster explained. “Pictures of Barnes and the dinosaur were posted on twitter by fellow Avenger, Clint Barton, a.k.a. Hawkeye, and immediately made Barnes’s new pet America’s sweetheart.”

“Her name’s Muffy,” said Steve."

Wanda Maximoff

and the woman was young again by Mira_Jade (General, 3669)

Tony Stark called them the Cap's Kooky Quintet, and sometimes the term amused her – causing her to lift a sardonic brow where someday a smile would truly smile. She enjoyed the presence of comrades – true comrades – and she enjoyed the way their minds wove and bound together about each other to fluctuate against her senses as one. There was something soothing about being in their midst, and even when their loud and brash ways – their painful Americaness - rubbed her raw and drained on her, it was ever the knitting of their minds that soothed those moments over, and made them inconsequential.

Phil Coulson

Coulson's First Day of School by storiesfortravellers (Teen, 3055)

Coulson looked up at him. “I like drawing pictures with Mr. Rogers. I like having tea parties with Ms. Potts. I like it when Dr. Banner reads me books, and I like it when Natasha teaches me things. And I like when you play with me. You do really good voices when we play action figures. And you’re the only one who lets me do stuff like jump off the high diving board at the pool or eat three cupcakes or play tackle with kids at the park.”

Clint didn’t realize that. He was pretty sure that meant that he was doing something wrong.

Darcy Lewis

Beginner Yoga for Dummies (Darcys) and Sad Hobos by chailover (Teen, 3434)

Darcy had a theory: crazy attracted crazy, working kind of like gravity. It was pretty much her explanation for her life after Thor. And if she had thought the type of crazy Thor attracted was bad, be it Loki or the Warrior Three and Sif, or the dark elves and the Convergence, it was still nothing against what the Avengers manage en masse.

Matt Murdock

Double Blind by smilebackwards (Teen, 2381) tumblr: @smilebackwards

Stark snaps his fingers. “You can’t see half of my inventions. This explains so much about you and why you’ve never been properly impressed by me.”

“Does it?” Matt says, ambiguously.

Sam Wilson

Bystander by scribblemetimbers (Teen, 52029)

“I just want you to know,” Sam says loudly, cautiously raising his hands, “That I’m very poor and very sleep-deprived and literally the only thing you can kill me for right now are my notes.” He pauses. Wait. On second thought: “Please don’t steal my notes.”

“I’m not—I’m not a mugger,” Not Mugger rasps out, and for all that he looks about to keel over and die, the man actually manages to sound offended.

Nick Fury

Bedtime Story by dixiehellcat (Teen, 2532) tumblr: @deehellcat

Fury snorted. “I have to check in with the duty officer. I’ll be back in, let’s say twenty minutes. I expect all of you to have whatever your pre-bedtime routines are completed, and be in here pajama’ed and ready to be read to.”

He tapped the book under his arm, then left with the usual dramatic swish of his long coat. Bruce scratched his head. “Did…he just say be ready to be read to?”

Pepper Potts

Pepper and the Avengers (Which She Knows Nothing About) by rebelmeg (General, 6696) tumblr: @rebelmeg

The Avengers, that mismatched group of hurt and heroism, was one of the most important things in Tony Stark’s life. So, naturally, Pepper had made them an important part of her life too.

Vision

039. Intoxicated by aimmyarrowshigh (Teen, 100) tumblr: @aimmyarrowshigh

It might be nice to fit in, just this once. To lose a bit of composure.

Vision floated over to the refrigerator and, with some timidity, pulled off a magnet. He stuck it to his forehead.

#marvel fic rec

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dreamingofscully · 3 years

Text

Grey Canyon 14/?

Rating: Current Chapter: PG, Series: up to Mature Categories: Western AU / MSR / WIP WC: 2546 / Total WC: 23,827 Updated on Mondays and Fridays.

Thank you to @ceruleanmilieu for the beta! ❤️ Tagging: @impulsive-astrophile @baronessblixen @suitablyaggrieved @sculderfan @today-in-fic (let me know if you want to be tagged when I post!)

all chapters in order: ao3 / tumblr

CH 1 / CH 2 / CH 3 / CH 4 / CH 5 / CH 6 / CH 7 / CH 8 / CH 9 / CH 10 / CH 11 / CH 12 / CH 13

CHAPTER 14: “Sunrise/sunset”

Grey Canyon, Colorado 1885

Nothing frustrated Mulder more than inaction. It was his biggest strength, and yet also his weakness. He would not shy away from doing what was needed, except when it came to waiting. And yet, waiting has been imposed on him in two ways. First, by the circumstances involving Dana’s brothers. He did not know if they were close, or if they had no idea where she was. He would not take the chance to investigate, to expose her, or to leave her alone for longer than an hour or two. Second, the impasse he’d placed upon himself regarding his relationship with Dana, upon furthering their intimacy. He would do what was right, it was important. But what did that look like? He didn’t know, it was only a feeling he had, deep in his gut.

His mind kept turning back to yesterday morning’s pathetic proposal. Then, to awakening next to her, the smell and feel of her body next to his as she clung to him in sleep. The way her hair shone against the backdrop of the sunrise through her window, a cloud of golden-red. When she awoke, the smile she gave him, secret and special. And the gentle kiss she’d pressed to the hand that rested on her shoulder. He would have that future: living through every sunrise with her next to him. He didn’t know why he could not let himself stay, to enjoy her entirely. To avoid her disappointed gaze when he left, over and over.

So, he brooded. Sat at the bar, chin on his fist, staring at the wall but not seeing it. He felt some solution was within his reach, just out of his grasp. The idea floated just underneath his consciousness, fuzzy and unclear.

Suddenly, a vague shape coalesced.

“Melvin!”

The barkeep sauntered over to him after pouring Walt a drink, frowning and silent.

“What was that story you told me a while back about your aunt?”

***

Early evening descended upon the Gilded Hall. The sun was well on its way to setting, the sky turning from bright blue to a more muted tone, hints of gold in the west along the ridges of the Rocky Mountains. Mulder shielded his eyes and watched from his vantage up on the roof of the hall. He paced, wiping his sweaty palms on his best trousers, checking to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything in his preparations.

After speaking with Melvin, he made quick work of his plans, invigorated by his idea. Madam had supplied him with the scarf, blue silk embroidered prettily with yellow daisies along the edges. Melvin, who was waiting inside, had washed his face and looked quite out of place in his suit, hair stuffed underneath his somewhat-cleaner black bowler hat.

The blanket he’d retrieved from Nellie, as she watched their preparations curiously. It was something she kept in her chest, a present from a former life, and she wanted Dana to have it. She handed it over, shyly remarking “Make sure to treat her right, Fox.”

He’d hoped this would do it. That she’d finally be treated right, as she deserved.

The tapping of the ladder summoned him from his reverie. He removed his hat, placing it on the blanket and cushions spread over the freshly swept roof. A couple chairs, an oil lamp for when the sun fell from the sky, and a covered dish with their dinner completed the picture.

The top of Dana’s hair poked out from the hole in the roof. Not meant to be commonly accessed, the open hatch, which Mulder discovered earlier in the afternoon, was the perfect final touch. The sunset, some stargazing, and something else that would finally allow him to explore the rest of his future with her.

“Some help, please!”

He rushed over and bent downwards, grabbing her arms and lifting her up onto the roof. She looked back down through the hatch and waved at Melvin.

“I think he got quite the show,” she said, quirking her eyebrow.

“I’m sure he’ll never forget it.”

She chucked and dusted off her blue gown where some dirt had clung to it in her climb. Then her eyes took in the view, her expression turning from amusement and curiosity to wonderment. It really was spectacular up here. Distant enough from the street to avoid the offensive smells and sounds. The plains rising up into mountains in the west, far enough away that the sun hadn’t yet disappeared behind them.

“What’s all this, then?” She turned to face him.

“A surprise. Something nice,” he said, guiding her to the blanket and chairs with a hand on her lower back.

“Well, all right then,” she said, her face flushing with pleasure and a smile peeking onto her lips.

They sat and ate, feeding each other bits of fruit and cheese and tearing off pieces of fresh bread. A few birds landed near them, and they shared their crumbs. He was happy to see her enjoyment, but as the backdrop of their dinner transformed into the painted hues of purple and red and orange, he felt his heart flutter, his hands start to sweat.

“Do you know why I prefer the sunset?” she asked, after their conversation went silent.

He shook his head, wiping his hands on his knees before taking the nearly-empty plate from her and placing it away from them.

“The stars,” she said. Her face tilted upwards at the sky, a few sparkling dots appearing in the canvas of deep blue above them. “My father would take me sailing, sometimes. Tell me stories about the constellations, the myths surrounding them. I feel as though he is here when I look upwards at night.” She lowered her gaze to him. “I don’t get much opportunity nowadays.”

“I know.”

She reached over and squeezed his hand, then got up from her chair and pulled him down next to her on the blanket. Sitting along her side and facing him, she leaned against the cushions on an elbow and looked skyward once more. Once he’d settled near her, his thumb brushing along her wrist, she began to speak again.

“You have heard the story of Andromeda?”

He nodded. “But I would hear it from you.”

“Let me show you, first,” she said, leaning close to him and pointing out a particularly bright set of stars. “You see those stars there, that form a square?”

He followed her finger, tearing his gaze from her face. “Yeah, I think so.”

“That’s Pegasus. Follow it there, upwards slightly…” She directed his gaze, and at first he could not see anything except a chaotic mess of white lights against an inky backdrop. But then it came together, and he could see the pattern as she spoke, the rest of the stars fading to insignificance.

“I see it!” he exclaimed.

She smiled, and continued, telling him of the story of how an innocent daughter was abandoned by her family, chained to a rock and left for a beast, until a stranger came along and changed her fate. As she spoke, a wistful expression on her face, he could not help but make the comparison. He wouldn’t claim to have saved her, not yet at least, but he would certainly do whatever he could against the monster that was coming.

He no longer looked skyward. Her expression softened as she told the story, eyes shining as she not only remembered the tale, but the memory of the person who told it to her. He wanted to give her that, again, give her something from which she could look back and think only of warmth, instead of regret.

Trailing his hand along her arm, folded between them, he grasped her hand.

“You’re not looking at the stars,” she said, peering at him out of the corner of her eyes.

“I am looking at what is most important,” he said, making her blush. “And I am listening.”

She touched his face, her thumb dragging along his bottom lip, eyes turned serious. “I wish you could have met him.”

“Your father.”

“He would have liked you.”

“A military man liking someone with outlandish ideas and designs for his daughter? I am doubtful.”

She laughed. “He would have seen you, as I do.”

“And what do you see?”

“A good man,” she said, leaning forwards and kissing him softly on his lips. She was very convincing.

She moved closer, leaning her head on his shoulder and continuing her search of the night sky, and within her own mind for happier times, he thought. His heart sped up, not only due to her proximity but of the question he still needed to ask her.

“Would I be Medusa, in that story, or perhaps the flying horse?” he joked.

She smiled widely at him, laughing freely. He slipped out from beside her and lit the oil lamp, the moon and stars their only illumination; they were draped in shadows and he wanted to see her. When he returned to her side, she grasped his hand within hers, pulling it to her mouth and kissing his palm.

“This… whole thing is lovely. Thank you.”

He cleared his throat, suddenly very warm despite the chill of the night air. He twisted his collar, loosening it slightly and fidgeting next to her.

“What has gotten you so nervous, Mulder? You do know that these stories are only myths, right? Or do you also believe in sea monsters?” she teased.

He bowed his head. “I admit, I, uh, have an ulterior motive to all of this…” he said, waving his hands at the setting he’d created for them.

“Well, if it’s to get into this dress, you already know where I stand, so it must be something else,” she said playfully, her head tilting at him. “Out with it.”

“So, I’ve been thinking about our situation...” he started.

“‘Situation’?” she said, raising an eyebrow at him.

He flushed, laughed nervously. “I have another story to tell, and you can thank Melvin for it, although perhaps he’d already been paid with a good view.”

Dana smiled and nodded, patting his hand.

“He’s part Irish, like yourself, also part Scot. A mix of many things I suppose. Cherokee, too, he claims, though he lacks the height for me to believe that,” he said. He clasped her hand within his, squeezing it. “His aunt Katie told him the story about how she met her husband. There’s a tradition, over there, where they choose their mates through a wall, only having seen the woman’s hand. They are bonded then, for a year and a day…”

He stared at their hands, having no doubt he would know hers.

“It started a long time ago, when a priest was not available.”

When he looked back at her, her head was bowed as she waited, quiet and still.

“Once chosen, they would fasten a scarf around their hands, and they would live together as if married, for the year and a day, or until a child came, or a priest came by.”

He brought the scarf the Madam gave him from inside his pocket and placed it next to their hands.

“It only requires a witness, and Melvin agreed--”

“Stop,” Dana interrupted, withdrawing her hand. She stood up quickly and backed away a few steps.

“If he is too offensive, perhaps the Madam would agree…?” He stood as well, taking the scarf in one hand, reaching out to her with the other.

She shook her head, and he saw the glistening of tears in her eyes. “All of it, Mulder.”

“But--”

“The answer to your question is no, and I should have been clear before,” she said, not meeting his eyes.

Mulder’s shoulders slumped. “Of course… I shouldn’t have assumed that you wanted this, that I was… the marrying type.”

“Look at me,” she said, her voice sharp.

He did, massaging the back of his neck. This wasn’t turning out how he’d envisioned, the exact opposite, in fact. Instead of a happy Dana, kissing, and… perhaps more, she stood in front of him, upset and perhaps a little angry, for a reason he could not fathom. He waited, feeling the weight of guilt already settling on his shoulders.

“I do not need a fancy ring, or a scarf, or anything else to know how I feel about you. How you feel about me,” she started. Her eyes softened slightly, but she did not approach. “If my circumstances had been any different, if I’d ended up like one of the girls here, would I be any less worthy of your love, of your commitment?”

“Of course not,” he said.

From the look on her face, he guessed she did not believe him. “I am so tired of other people thinking they know what is best for me, or, as you say it, what I deserve.”

“Dana, I… do not mean it that way." He bowed his head, unable to look at her. Not wanting to fight, to turn this into something ugly, but the right words escaped him. He found his anger starting to build as well. How could she think such a thing? Then the doubt. Have I really made her feel that way?

“Maybe so. But that is not my only reason for my refusal,” she said. “I have seen what happens, when a woman gets married. My mother, my sister, my friends at college. A wife is treated as even less of an individual. Even if she fights against it, as my sister did, it changes her."

She stepped closer, pointing her finger at his chest but not quite touching it. Her cheeks were red and her eyes blazed.

"When I marry, I will no longer be myself. I become your wife, your property, not my own person. If you cannot understand that, then we are finished speaking."

"Dana I do not want a wife, I want you." He clenched his hands into fists, twisting the delicate scarf in his grasp.

"Even if you did not mean to change me, it would happen. And I do not mean to lose myself," she said, pursing her lips, and turning away from him.

He grabbed her arm to prevent her from moving away, his anger rising. "You say I am ridiculous, that I have crazy ideas, well yours is the most absurd idea I have ever heard. Just because we are together in some official capacity does not mean that anything changes!"

Dana stared at his arm, then looked up at his face, her eyes cold and furious. She spoke harshly. "No offense, sir, but you are not a woman. You do not know what it is like--”

“Dana--”

“I am not finished. If whatever object you conjure to bind us together does not change anything then why is it so important to you? Why do you insist on it before we take things further. It means something, to you at least... and I cannot give that to you."

Wrenching her arm away from his grasp, she stalked towards the hatch in the roof and climbed down as fast as her dress would allow. She did not look back.

Mulder stood there, shocked, the delicate scarf falling from his hand onto the dusty rooftop.

#grey canyon #my fic #xf fanfic #xfiles #x-files #the x-files #txf #msr #mulder and scully #xfiles fanfic #xfiles au #historical au #western

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chosenkeepersworld · 3 years

Text

The Curses We Inherit- Chapter 4

Original Work

Date Posted: May 26, 2021 (Tumblr)

Word count: 1, 472 words

A/N: Unbeta-ed work but I hope whoever reads this will like it and let me know what you think. Critique is greatly appreciated. Thanks!

MASTERLIST / PART 3

The heiress' little trip to the bookstore was going pretty well. She took a wrong turn once or twice but eventually arrived at The Quill.

Danika looked around while she waited for the lady at the counter to check for her aunt's package. There weren't many people in the store at this hour, but one person did draw the blonde's attention.

It was a young woman, her hair was dark brown underneath her dark slouchy beanie but Danika could see white dye close to the ends of her hair. She wore a blue hoodie, tan pants and sneakers. The brunette was by the window, flipping through a comic.

The blonde heard the sound of a door opening behind her, she turned to get back to task at hand.

The way back to her aunt's friends' house was the difficult part. Danika wanted to deny it as she walked into another part of town, but it was clear she was lost.

However there was another issue that concerned her.

Someone was clearly following her. Danika's mind drifted to all the stories she heard on the news, of women getting kidnapped while they were on their travels. The heiress picked up the pace, heading towards the mouth of the alleyway. And then there was that unbearable itching in her neck again.

Danika gulped as she heard more footsteps join the ones following her. She started running but it was as if she was just running in place, no matter how hard she pushed herself she just could not get out.

The blonde then felt a hand grab onto her shoulder. Danika screamed and twisted herself away, falling out of the mouth of the alleyway.

Her first instinct was to tense up, to prepare her for the pain that would inevitably come when her body hit pavement. But it wasn't the pavement that she landed on, instead she landed on something else or rather someone else.

The person under her groaned "Son of a...watch where you're going dude"

Danika scrambled off her but the woman's accent grabbed the blonde's interest. It was American. The woman sat up, the blue hood falling backwards. Danika could only blink in surprise.

"S-sorry" Danika stammered "Someone was following me and I just wanted to get away"

The brunette tilted her head, looking into the alley "No there isn't"

Danika looked back, to her astonishment there really was no one there.

The young woman from the bookstore stood, brushing dirt from her pants "Are you alright though? Do you want to go to the police or...?" she trailed off leaning down to pick up a bag.

'No, no um" Danika took a deep breath "I just want to get back to my aunt" she rattled off the description of the house she and her aunt went to.

The brunette stared at her for a moment before a grin spread across the face "Is-is your aunt uh" she snapped her fingers "Aileen O'Brien"

The heiress' eyes widened "How do you know that?"

"The house you described is my uncles'" she held out a pale hand, ice blue eyes alive with "I'm Jac it's nice to meet you"

***********

Danika toyed with the watch on her wrist before unclasping it to reach for her second Pork Slider. Both girls sat at the table of Arman Sanderson's dining room, the housekeeper had set out lunch for the two when they returned to the house. Jac reached for her second slider while Danika spooned more vegetables on her plate when

their relatives came in. Aileen was laughing softly at what her friend was signing.

Jac, who watched the pair come in,started laughing which quickly evolved into snorting. Danika shot the taller girl a questioning look but only received a head shake in response "Trust me, you do not want to know"

It was clear that they had already finished their meeting but there was something Danika still hoped to do while they were still in town.

"Auntie?"

"Yes, Darling?"

"I was wondering if I could stay a bit longer?" she asked "There was a lot about town that I wasn't able to truly take in"

Aileen stared intently at her niece, her green eyes searching the younger woman's face. The look on her Aunt's face was reminiscent of her father's own expression when Danika or her brother would talk to him. It made the younger O'Brien shift uncomfortably.

"Are you sure you'll be alright? You did get lost this morning" she reminded

Danika flushed with embarrassment but Sandy who had been watching the exchange started signing. The blue-eyed brunette turned alert and swallowed "Whoa, whoa, uncle please slow down"

Sandy sighed and repeated himself. Aileen hummed in approval "I think that's a good idea"

All poor Danika could do was look as confused as she felt.

Jac turned to Danika "Well, I hope you don't mind spending more time with me" she grinned "After all I will be your tour guide this afternoon"

*********

Danika grimaced as she and Jac left the store, she felt more and more frustrated each time she came out empty handed. Jachad played tour guide when they left her uncle's home, they had taken a closer look at the places that the brunette knew well, even meeting some of the people the taller girl knew. However Danika took a special interest in some of the local stores that sold accessories and jewelry, but the store never had what she was looking for.

The two eventually took a small break, stopping at a drink stand. Danika sat on a nearby bench waiting for Jac to come back with a local favorite. The blonde felt a twinge of guilt watching the other girl wait in line, she has not been as kind to the girl who had taken her task in stride. Danika's attitude didn't help either.

he could at least do something for her. Danika stood up, intent on going over there and treating the other girl but then there was a shift in the air. It made the hair at the back of her neck stand on end, she could feel someone watching her but at first glance there was no one there, only the large mass of trees and bushes a good distance away from where she was sitting,

But there was something there, Danika squinted and was astonished to find a mushroom by the line of bushes. She walked towards it and she swore she could hear music and as she came closer she could see that it wasn't just a mushroom but a ring of them. At the sight of the ring a distant memory from her childhood sparked but it faded just as quickly as it came.

The music grew louder and voices began whispering in her ear.

"Step into the ring" it whispered, enticingly "We'll have so much fun"

There was no resistance on Danika's part, a light and careless feeling taking over her, muddling her thoughts.

"Just let yourself go and take a step inside"

Danika lifted her foot, going over the mushrooms that lined the ring when something yanked her backward, her thoughts clearing and her body felt normal again.

Jacqueline stood next to her, her hand on Danika's wrist. The brunette raised an eyebrow "Are you okay? I was calling you but you didn't respond" there was genuine concern in her gaze.

Danika had no idea what to tell her, weakly responding "I thought I heard something but I'm fine"

The other girl narrowed her eyes "Okay " she said, clearly not believing her "Whatever you say, dude" she shrugged "Anyway our drinks are over there"

Danika silently followed.

Behind the line of trees and bushes, as both girls walked away, dark figures snarled silently, glaring with hateful eyes.

**********

"You wanna tell me what you're looking for so we can call it a day?"

"I'm sorry?" Danika asked taken aback by the sudden question

They were just about finished with their break when Jac finally broke the silence. The taller girl sucked hard at the straw in her drink, draining the reminder of it " You don't hide your expressions that well, you're clearly looking for something."

Danika hesitated but, at Jac's prodding, told the pale brunette what she needed. Blue eyes blinked after the blonde finished her tale "What does this thing look like?"

It took a moment for her to find it but once Danika she handed her phone over to the other girl.

Jac stared at the image, unblinking. The silence went on and Danika only became more and more concerned the longer Jac said nothing. Then without warning Jacqueline stood up and grabbed the other girl's hand and began leading her further into town.

"Where are we going?" Danika cried

But Jac was only silent as they walked on.

********

Photo Sources:

Canva

Sebastian Conman Photography(Pork Slider)- Unsplash

*********

Tag list: @original-writing @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @dustylovelyrun @woodhousejay

#The Curses We Inherit #The Curses We Inherit Ch 4 #writeblr #original story #original writing #creative writing #writing wip #unbeta'd

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incarnateirony · 4 years

Text

15.11 and moving forward

Some of you may have seen my Putrefied in Purgatory video surrounding 15.09. Putrefaction is the reduction of a material to its barest state for a new foundation, rotting away to the alchemical Blackened state to rebuild on new stages of whitening (which seemed to crest in 15.10 for Dean), then yellowing and reddening en route, though for completion there's other stages ahead of us (as per what I lended towards in Philosopher's Gold, also 15.09 video.)

But I think what I need to do is discuss the tree.

SO MOVING FORWARD, WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON IN ALCHEMY AND QABBALAH SPN LAND. GLAD YOU ASKED, NOBODY.

I *AM* gonna need you to bear with me right now, because I’m about to data-dump out a bunch of information and then go back over and explain how this is connecting to what Andrew Fucking Dabb and company are doing actively, episode by episode. If you don’t get it on first read, that’s fine, once I start putting it in terms and concepts and show stuff you get, scroll back and re-digest in frame.

Okay so, let’s drop some points. You may have remembered me making early videos of Belphegor as the ruler of Thagirion after 15.01 (x) and later, one called Worthy of Love for Tiphareth (x), but not before he who blocks and hampers the heart guides walked them through flames they were not yet ready to access (x), causing an unlevel involution between the Three Principles with Castiel reaching a reddening while Dean sat in darkness and Sam struggled to maintain his own light.

This is going to become very important to my babbling, but the concept is that there is a nega/void/blockage version of the tree that has “evil” versions of each node. Tiphareth’s shadow is Thagirion. Tiphareth is the essence of love, true and genuine. It dominates the heart chakra, and its disputer, Belphegor, the blocker, is he who does not believe in love and observes marriages for dissent and further aggitates the blockage in the path. Sound familiar?

This Sephira is in some respects the most important of all. It is the centre of the whole system; it is the only Sephira below the Abyss which communicates directly with Kether. (Think crown/godhead/source -- white node #1) It is fed directly from Chokmah and Binah; also from Chesed and Geburah. (I’ll... get into these another time, they’re a higher segment) It is thus admirably fitted to dominate the lower Sephiroth; it is balanced both vertically and horizontally. In the planetary system it represents the Sun; in the system of Tetragrammaton it represents the Son. In other words, the Son is an interpretation of the Father in terms of the Mind. [Tiphareth is] thus representative of [the four] elements at their practical best. (Book of Thoth, p.181)

You don’t say. (vaguely screams into fist about who and what the Mind is and who and what the Father in this Aeon is)

Soft Husband Gaze Dot Gif not found in tumblr search so I’ma nab and tag another by @starsmish

Dean and Cas’ blowout over Jack, “you’re dead to me”, was over Cas knowing something was wrong with Jack, and not telling them, and Dean’s anger leading to distrust.

That was putrefied in purgatory, everything laid bare. And while they haven’t had their heart to heart yet (that big good omens energy shot is probably from 12, a bobocuda episode like The Future was), here–

Cas already had his gasping, shocked, clutched reunion with the son. Sam came home and gave a squeeze too.

But Dean walked up, put a hand behind his son’s neck, stared deeply into his eyes to see if it was him. And, as if doubting himself, looked to his somber husband, who silently communicated and affirmed it, and Dean knew, and trusted, and believed, and their son was home.

Someone launch me to jupiter please

oh wait neverfuckingmind, Dabb and co are working on that shortly.

Tiphareth, the heart, is the central vein, the power between godhood and the terrestrial earth as manifest in Malkuth.

I had pointed out the choice taste in Dean emerging from black in a white suit to look into yellow light and past red drapes in 15.10 and that Dean seemed to be approaching his whitening, but that’s even truer now.

The phases I speak of bear relevance to these.

Just--humor me and see earth as the blackened base from the human perspective, even if the blackened base of the Shadow of Man lies beneath the Ain Soph (which I’ll show some inverted trees for later). I’ve spoken of lunar light in regards to the whitening before, and it even rose in my Reflection video about crucifying the ego before it was too late (x) (please mind the video was made a year ago now based on hermetic pattern spec) “The moon gives me her secret, a confidant; as full and bright as I am, this light is not my own and a million light reflections pass over me.”

(aside re: crucifying the ego, it’s about removing the blackened snake of our unrefined parts of the self, similar to putrefaction, so a step we just crossed)

In alchemy, albedo is one of the four major stages of the magnum opus, along with nigredo, citrinitas/xanthosis and rubedo. It is a Latinicized term meaning "whiteness". Following the chaos or massa confusa of the nigredo stage, the alchemist undertakes a purification or rectification in albedo, which is literally referred to as ablutio or absolution – the washing away of impurities. This phase is concerned with "bringing light and clarity to the prima materia (personal material)". But the transmutational state is ... well.

“The whitening phase is ruled by the moon and as such is reflective, in that it does not have its own light. The maturation of the whitening happens via reflection and is often described as mirroring. The reflective processes, of thinking and feeling, dominate the direct experiences of intuition, sensation and imagination. Knowledge is King, and Mystery is banished by the whitening ego's searchlight. Perfection is idealised, and imperfection seen as weakness. Immediate gratification is expected. Nothing is allowed to mature. Lacking true wisdom, we are children in adult's bodies. Our leaders lack the vision to see the real problems, and the guts to really change things.

“The first main goal of the process... highly prized by many alchemists... is the silver or moon condition, which still has to be raised to the sun condition. The albedo [whitening], is so to speak, the daybreak, but not till the rubedo [reddening] is it sunrise. The transition to the rubedo is formed by the citrinitas [yellowing], though this, as we said, was omitted later.” (x)

Now let’s take a look at how that applies to Yesod in the middle pillar, above Malkuth, both of which gain power from light *elsewhere* -- that is, Tiphareth.

Of Yesod:

“After the double excursion into misfortune, (Hod and Netzach) the current returns to the middle pillar. This Sephira is the seat of the great crystallization of Energy. But it takes place very far down the Tree, at the apex of the third descending triangle, and a flat triangle at that. There is little help from low, unbalanced spheres like Netzach and Hod. What saves Yesod is the direct ray from Tiphareth; this Sephira is in the direct line of succession. (Book of Thoth) “

Yesod is that subtle basis upon which the physical world is based....It is the Astral Plane, which in one sense being passive and reflecting energies from above is lunar, even as the moon reflects the light of the sun. The Astral Light is an omnipresent and all-permeating fluid or medium of extremely subtle matter; substance in a highly tenuous state, electric and magnetic in constitution, which is the model upon which the physical world is built. It is the endless, changeless, ebb and flow of the world's forces that, in the last resort, guarantee the stability of the world and provides its foundation. [...] The general conception of Yesod is of change with stability. (Regardie, 1994)

So let’s take a quick aside on that double journey into instability in Hod and netzach, and I’ll leave everyone to think of how this correlates now.

The position of Netzach is doubly unbalanced; off the middle pillar, and very low down on the Tree. It is taking a very great risk to descend so far into illusion, and, above all, to do it by frantic struggle. Netzach pertains to Venus...and the greatest catastrophe that can befall Venus is to lose her Heavenly origin. (Book of Thoth, p.182)

The sphere of Hod represents on a very much lower plane similar qualities to those obtaining in Chokmah. It is the lower plane, first primitive version of union and sharing between the divine masculine and feminine (SPN video recs [x], [x] ) as mirrored to Netzach’s above details.

So we’ve got... lesser unions *scrolls over 15.9* cast down Mark wedding, check, from a blackened putrified base of Malkuth not yet even fully acquiring its own awareness of reflected light in Yesod or Albedo. 15.10 Dean does seem to start gaining some sense of light and dream, if reflected off of imaginings of others while coming out from behind the curtain *checks* but it’s not fully manifest yet. Now the heroes struggle through descending into illusion and frantic struggle, questioning all they know in existence, or their “luck”. *checks*

Now, Fortuna tells our heroes a good deal of what we knew they needed to hear. In the end it really isn’t about their luck. Heroes aren’t extinct, but it’s not about playing god’s game, it’s about playing their own. The divine feminine told them the secrets of the gods and, in a way, it is the steps towards mastering their human sovereignty.

Notice the lunar card path lending towards the lunar Yesod node, for example, even using arcana -- given this is Grey’s system, there’s a few others.

Uh, ignore the given card/highlighted path for now, that’s there for reasons you may recognize that I’ll bang on about elsewhere.(Aeon, for the record, is basically the same as Judgement and World=Universe, and Lust=Strength different naming system -- you’ll notice the second names on the first chart apply here, though in a matter of descending vs ascending. A few are different; and I’m not gonna pledge up and down which version Dabb is using, so I’m more going to take the raw idea that works across multiple models)

In the interim -- and defaulting back to Tiphareth after following the path of the Sun through Art, towards the philosopher’s stone of unabridged love, marriage, the sun and the son, the moon reflects the light of the sun, the Rising Sun, albeit not yet back to its proper reddening -- the yellow familial light I’ve banged on about in this show, even beyond our romantic pairings. The sun had been lost and the family and the three principles fell into chaos, needing to rebuild. And yet, as Castiel brings home Jack, we see the growth even in these few episodes:

With pain and distrust betrayed in purgatory, over having failed to communicate issues with Jack, once everything was laid bare and rotten to base to rebuild in Purgatory, Dean looked to Castiel after doubting himself staring into Jack’s eyes to know if their son was truly home, and by a look, he knew, and accepted, and as weighty as it was, that family was complete.

Back to Tiphareth as the four elements in harmony, we have our future playing field here.

I will tap back to Hod reflecting Chokmah though, at a lesser value, by citing some points of Chokmah: “male creative energy, wisdom and the expression of a single idea in terms of duality. It transmits the idea of the divine unity to its feminine counterpart, the understanding, somewhat as a man transmits the essence of his character to his wife so that he perceives his inmost nature, itself unintelligible to him directly, by observing the flowering of that essence in his son. “

Cough. blossom.

Anyway,

the yellowing is upon them all now, in actual harmony, with the return of the sun by which to reflect their light in Yesod, but furthermore, to step forward.

Hm. What saves Yesod is the direct ray from Tiphareth.

Their su/on. Is home. And the yellow light, if faint at first, as they come to speak, has returned, lingering between them. The yellowing itself comes from moving into a form of being where one’s own soul is less a reflected light of the grand scheme of things and one’s own personal, generated light, and that is landing upon us shortly.

To like, fully break down this path shit I’d have to go full like alchemical sermon here, but I’m more trying to map out just how artistically rendered this show is using these paths.

So where do we go now? The crown, Kether, is our goal. But we’re not ready to Priestess rocket straight that direction, as much as there’s still a strong overshadow of Kether upon them, even if the Star’s light descending leads towards hope.

But we’ve left the primitive base triangle now. Geburah and Chesed await.

Geburah:

The introduction of the number Five shows the idea of motion coming to the aid of that of matter...The result is a complete upset of the statically stabilized system. Now appear storm and stress. (The Book of Thoth, p.180)

Despite the fact that Geburah is a feminine potency, as are all Sephiros [sic] on the left-hand column of the Tree, practically all its attributions are male and vigorous...This is not confusion of thought, but a recognition of the necessity for equilibrium." (Regardie, 1994)

Geburah represents on a much lower plane the Sakti force-element attributed to Binah. (Regardie, 1994)

The quality of Geburah is summed up in the general idea of strength and power and force. Its card based attributions are strife, disappointment, defeat, and worry. That which the heart must overcome with strength.

Chesed:

Lots of crazy mystic math involved but summarily Righteousness, Mercy, and Love, combining seemingly diverse ideas.

"below the Abyss"; therefore, in practice, it means solidification, materialization. Things have become manifest. The essential point is that it expresses the Rule of Law...The manifestation promised by Binah has now taken place. Chesed...is the highest idea which can be understood in an intellectual way. (The Book of Thoth).

These are given to travel to Chokmah (which I’ve noted already) and Binah “For she is omniform as Love and as Death, the Great Sea whence all Life springs, and whose black womb reabsorbs all. She thus resumes in herself the duplex process of the Formula of Love under Will" (Little Esssays Towards Truth, "Love") - planetary association Saturn, so you may.. *gestures back at other videos* (x)

Like... Rowena’s Reverse Womb Symbolism Dot Jaypeg, “Death is an infinite vessel.” (reminder drop x)

“In short, Binah is the substantive vehicle of every possible phenomenon, physical or mental” (Regardie, 1994)

opposite chokmah, as above mentioned in the masculine presence of the union to meet the godhead.

These lovers must still walk different paths for a time, but will meet across the void of hidden knowledge before standing at the crown, if only after facing their strife and personal strength, taking the understanding of the moon and fortuna, to not play another’s game, to blossom into holding one’s own light along with completion in the family unit, and to find wisdom in the hidden things between them, by which the aged hermit, the hierophant, he who held the unofficiated wedding’s gold, the incomplete, lesser manifestation at Hod, and formerly cast it down -- as his foundation to approach the crown.

At more immediate, Netzach is also led forward by Fortune or Fortuna towards Chesed. The Hermit, a role Sam has heavily embodied on his Hierophant path, crosses from Tiphareth. As the one that impressed Fortuna, Sam is likely the one to hold the torch of her words right now, and figure out how to make Chuck play their game. Whereas Hod travels the road of the Hanged Man, each to find their strength sourced upward from Tiphareth, the heart, the sun, the son, the marriage, the family light, the yellowing, with adjustment through Tiphareth removing some of the pillar of severity and the hanged man road ahead of the struggling, still separated union.

Death descends from Binah to Geburah, enacting her volatile change and meeting the path of the hanged man, empowered by heart and adjustment; the hierophant will meet and become the hermit at Chesed. The path of the united lovers is an inevitability in any system rising from the heart towards the path of the hanged man in affiliation with the divine feminine, death's forces included; and the hierophant enacts the emperor on way to the divine masculine. The Emperor and Empress' marriage will end up being the fundament by which to face that final triangle of upper creation.

For those of you who remember me banging on about Art/Temperance versus Lovers arcana all goddamn hiatus, enjoy seeing them spawn out of Tiphareth there.

Here the red eagle and white lion commune and share in their parts, for the restoration of the golden orphic (x) child and great work under the hands of the Hierophant against the pillars of overseeing divine fem/masc (here represented in Adam and Lilith, other versions Adam and Eve)

Just... honestly just read this (x) if you want to know more about how each of these elementson those cards correspond to the above paths.

So I guess this is a really long magical way of shipper Sam is gonna have to get these two knuckleheads cosmically married and complete before standing as the godman and subverting the allfather with the rebirth of the heart and their su/on. And hopefully not have Eileen recreate the Rowena thing on the way. Or Cas for that matter.

The complete deconstruction of the lovers in purgatory was necessary, having been in the cursed and evil, inverted tree and blocked at Tiphareth. Now we can build forward in light and knowledge and the sovereign journey of man, even if it has its pitfalls and misfortunes. The Empress’ marriage to the Emperor makes foundation for the Fool (which isn’t what it sounds like) and the Magician’s completed work, finalizing the top triangle of unity to complete their magnum opus against god. Man created the gods, and are to soon prove themselves the equal of him.

And that’s my rambling because I suck at teaching this shit.

*nervous chuckling for potential ways for Castiel’s deal to work out right now*

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sarkywoman · 3 years

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Fic Writer Interview

Tagged by: @spikeymarshmallows (find her version of this here) Name: sarkywoman, sometimes people just say sarky. Fandom(s): At the moment, The Umbrella Academy is my dominant one. I rarely ever give up on one entirely though, as can be seen by some of my recent Destiel reblogs. (I’m also excited for some of the upcoming Marvel content. Okay, I say ‘some’, I just mean Mackie’s Captain America really XD) Where you post: Archive of our Own , though I still need to upload a lot of my older work that was posted on livejournal. I often post a link here on tumblr when I write something new, but not always. Most Popular One Shot (by kudos): ‘Noble Blood’, which just proves you should always chase your bliss, as it was an utterly indulgent vampire AU written as a gift for my then-gf in A Song of Ice and Fire fandom. Most Popular Multi-Chapter (by kudos): Eek, an unfinished WIP not updated since May 2014! D: Sorry people. ‘A Song of Bastards and Wards’, with Joanna Snow instead of Jon Snow. I think these fics have more kudos because the ASOIAF fandom was so big, rather than due to quality relative to my other work. Favorite story you’ve written so far: Ooof. I have been writing for a long time, this is such a tricky question! It would probably be easier to just split all my fic into two categories: fun to write vs not-fun to write. I like to be experimental, so fics like Story and Sorcery for Loki or The Aimless One for Misfits or The Price Of Parenthood for Umbrella Academy let me try new things, but I notice my mind does tend to go to a particular Tales from the Borderlands fic, Young God. I wrote it in a fit of inspiration for a friend one evening and it encapsulated what I wanted from the Jack/Rhys dynamic more than anything I wrote for them since, I think. I was also happy with some of the imagery and how I managed to maintain and build on the tone throughout. Only 4k words, doesn’t overextend, but I enjoyed writing it. It flowed very well. Fic you were nervous to post: Krystalline. Not due to its quality, just... I know what this fandom’s like when it comes to pairings. I write fic for myself and my friends and this was for a friend. I originally sent it to her privately but it seemed weirder to hide it than to post it. It’s good writing, if I may be so bold. Other than that, I get nervous posting final chapters on multi-chapter fic. I don’t want to let down people who’ve invested time in it! How do you choose your titles?: Varies. I’ll often use song lyrics. I often write to appropriate music and a line will jump out at me. Otherwise, it will just be a fitting phrase, like The Weak Link for an AU fic where Klaus is led to believe he’s too weak to have powers. Do you outline?: Not often, but if it’s a multichapter fic, more frequently these days I will, to avoid WIPs that dwindle into nothing because I don’t write as quickly as I used to. How I go about it varies. Sometimes it’s just a list of stuff I want to happen that I vaguely order, sometimes it’s a scene-by-scene adaptation, like the aforementioned Weak Link AU or Song of Bastards and Wards. Those involved noting scenes from the show/book and figuring out how they would change with the new circumstances. Complete:

Waheyyy... *dabs or something, idk* I have... oooh a lot more that needs uploading to AO3 but it’s a case of finding the time to reread old work so that I can tag it properly. With all that’s been happening lately I checked my SPN folder and found to my alarm that I wrote over a hundred stories that I saved while I was in the fandom, but only 5 of those are on my AO3. I did some for Marvel that aren’t cross-posted either, a bunch for NCIS... once we start going back more than ten years the quality is a bit cringy though. In-Progress: Uh... I don’t want to give up on any of my WIPs officially but the only one I can actually say I’m actively working on is a Kliego AU for my Bad Things Happen Bingo. Diego is a detective, but I promise I’m not ripping off @spikeymarshmallows‘ ‘City Two-Four’! Mine’s more of a noir. It’s for the ‘Paranoia’ square and Diego has bad paranoia, but it might be justified given he’s investigating the Commission crime syndicate after the kidnapping of Allison’s daughter Claire and after they’ve destroyed at least two of his loved ones. Not a happy fic but hopefully not too painful either. (I like to sit in that middle ground where readers go “Oh no! Awww... Oh thank god.”) Maybe when I watch the new Loki series I’ll be motivated to go back to my Cap/Loki AU fic, It is Not Fantasy... Coming soon/not yet started: I really should write more original stuff at some point if I want to be a novelist... but I’m very much enjoying bad things happen bingo, will carry on doing gen or shippy fics for that in UA fandom Prompts?: Can do. Have done in the past. Only issue is when people really misjudge what I’m into, lol. Or they give a ‘prompt’ so thorough it’s more like a sparknotes guide. Upcoming work you’re most excited about: I’ve been working on my ‘Paranoir’ (working title) for a while now. Mental health has led to a bit of a hiatus on my writing, reading... and my entire life. But it’s so nearly finished. Paranoir, I mean. I just need to write an eensy bit more Allison and figure out how to organise all the bits I’ve done.

I tag anyone who wants to give this a go :)

#about me #long post

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tfw-needs-baby · 4 years

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sam winchester | internet personas

based on my own experience.

read on ao3?

Sam Winchester and his brother stumbled upon fanfiction and the fandom a while ago. He swore to himself that he would never, ever go back and visit the crazy people that existed there.

Well, sitting in his room in the bunker, he was bored and had nothing much to do because the supernatural had been pretty quiet for the past month or so and he was scrolling aimlessly through new articles and finding nothing. He doesn’t know how or why the idea popped into his head, but it came and he was curious at the time, so why not?

‘Best places to’ Nope, delete that.

‘Where to join a fandom’ Delete that too. That just sounded stupid.

‘Fandom friendly sites.’ Yeah, that sounded about right. He clicked onto the first link, and it immediately brought him to a site called ‘Fandom.’

How ironic. Although it didn’t exactly help him much, it was just an explanation guide to their platform and what it had to offer. The rest of the links weren’t much help either, and he sighed. Alright, how to find the fans...wasn’t there something called livejournal?

According to a couple of articles, old and inactive journals had been purged, but were still doing pretty well. And then, the Winchester searched up ‘best places to read fanfiction.’

A couple of suggestions appeared underneath ‘Popular on the web.’

‘Wattpad - tumblr - kindle words - deviantart - archive of our own - asianfanfics’

Huh. Visiting a couple of sites, Wattpad and Fanfiction.net and Archive Of Our Own popped up frequently, so he decided to visit Wattpad first. He went to browse works and choose fanfiction, and it brought him to a selection of hot and trendy stories with millions of views on them. Woah. It ranged from k-pop to a selection of animes to CBS shows and weird crossovers. The ‘x reader’ tag seemed very popular and he shivered, reminding him of Becky.

Signing up wasn’t hard either. It had only taken him a couple of minutes. But when he was reading a selected few from the hot section, they didn’t exactly grab his attention. A lot of them seemed to be written by younger ten to fifteen year olds. They did have a large amount of potential and amazing storylines, he’ll give them that.

Then he wandered over to Fanfiction.net. The sign up process was easy, but the site was a bit more historical and a bit more him. There were multiple forums, and he scrolled down and viewed a couple of them. Oh. They were similar to roleplay, but just - more building along a storyline with it, if that made any sense. The sign up was pretty easy here too, and he smiled as two notifications popped up in his gmail for both sites.

Backtracking now, he went off to ‘archive of our own,’ nicknamed ‘ao3’ for short and a paragraph popped up and he skimmed through it quickly. It was just a warning that everything could be viewed by whoever and whatnot. The writing here definitely seems way more advanced, way more complex and interesting, with canon divergences going all out and unheard au’s. And the cliche plots we’re simply adorable.

He went over to sign up, and raised an eyebrow when it stated that you needed to get an invitation, and all you had to do was enter in an email. And wait a day for an invitation.

Hopping onto tumblr, he made an account quickly and started scrolling through it, and everything seemed different somehow. Like, more modern day than the last time he came to the page. The fandom had definitely become smaller due to a ‘nsfw ban’ and he couldn’t decide whether that was a good or bad thing. They had gifsets of memories that had happened about three years ago, with their final stand against Chuck, and he smiled as he went through year’s old blogs that never updated anymore, reblogging everything ‘Supernatural’ underneath the username ‘babytrenchcoatnougat’ and he started to tear up when he stumbled upon a post where they had created a small art of playing the rainbow slinky with Dean based on a gifset of a memory. He still remembers how happy Dean had been when he got it just for him, he played with it for the next week.

A couple of week’s later, Sam want’s to do more than reblog and comment on content. Sam does have artistic potential, and he could definitely look into that. Although, writing seems easier at the moment, and he scrolls through an endless amount of fanfiction on archive of our own - ranging from major character death to general fanfiction - from his brother and best friend sleeping together to him turning into the boyking to high school universes to Apocalyptic worlds where they have failed.

He wants to write his own world, where they’re all happy and care-free and able to actually live happily, where no one he’s loved has died. Making a post on tumblr he states: By any chance, is there anyone on this platform that can help me with a non-romantic general Supernatural fanfiction?

He places a couple of normal tags that fit into the category, then presses post. About an hour later, he gets a reblog from someone called @ misha-moose-dean-burger-lover [and wow, that sounds like a handful] offering to help.

I’m available if you need me to, @ babytrenchcoatnougat ; what’s the plot? We can discuss more in DM’s if you’d like! Besides, I’m free for the week, but if you need a beta reader I can offer a couple of people that I know.

Sam sends her a message.

babytrenchcoatnougat: can you give me some advice or writing tips if you have any? i'm not looking to make any implied romantic pairings in the fic

misha-moose-dean-burger-lover: well, that depends, what’s the fic going to be about?

babytrenchcoatnougat: i don't know yet, maybe team free will 2.0 just taking a roadtrip to nowhere without a destination in sight after defeating chuck?

misha-moose-dean-burger-lover: eeeeee

misha-moose-dean-burger-lover: that sounds like a awesome idea misha-moose-dean-burger-lover: you're definitely going to want to have specific destinations in mind, and only a hint of angst, and what they’re going to do at these locations

misha-moose-dean-burger-lover: use transition words and make sure it doesn’t repeat often, descriptive details but don’t use it in every scene, and make sure there are frequent movements in the characters so they don’t sound so stiff, and make sure to slowly transition into the next scene, as time skipping to every scene will make the story seem boring. misha-moose-dean-burger-lover: make sure the characters aren’t ooc either!

And so, Sam writes. He writes until his eyes hurt and he definitely needs some sleep, so he sends a quick message to a beta to read it over for him and they do, gushing about how the plot was wonderful and badly needed after all the terrible angst that occurred this season. He smiles, giving his thanks before uploading the first chapter out of 15, 13k words, onto ao3.

[He checks over the grammar and tags over fifteen times.]

He can hardly contain his excitement, jumping around happily all day, even baking Dean a pie which makes him get sprayed with holy water and go through every test just to make sure he isn’t some supernatural creature.

Later that afternoon, he checks his ao3 underneath the same username and finds out it’s gotten about 150 hits, and 38 kudos, which makes his heart swell. He’s also gotten a comment, and he presses comments eagerly.

‘Kill yourself, psycho virgin fag.’

He re-reads the comment a couple of times, eyes tearing up and dropping his phone onto the kitchen table recklessly. What the fuck. Was his story really that bad? Did those people who didn’t leave a kudo really hate his story that much? Did the fans think his story was too child-like? Badly written? OOC? Do they really hate him that bad that he actually should commit-

Sam breaks down right then and there, pushing his computer aside, placing his head down and crying softly. Castiel and Dean don’t find him until an hour later, and he’s still softly crying. They rush over to him, Dean quickly sitting to the right while Castiel sits to the left. “Sammy? What happened?” Dean asks, and the younger Winchester shakes his head.

“N’thing.” He mumbles, and the older Winchester sighs. He’s just being stubborn, when he doesn’t want other people to worry about him, afraid that he’ll give them his problems. “Sam, please, if you talk to us, then we may fix the problem together. Remember, we made that promise two years ago, to be more open with each other.” The former-angel now archangel says, pushing Sam’s hair out of his face. Sam takes a shaky breath, pushing himself off the desk and grabs the laptop, opening it up to the recent fanfiction he had written, and Castiel and Dean both skim through it before Dean snatches the laptop. “Is this a fanfiction?” He looks at him as if he’s crazy, and Sam slowly shakes his head in agreement. Castiel walks over to Dean, both of them reading the first chapter silently, and everytime he glances over to see their reactions it seems unchanged. His brother probably thinks he’s weird, and Castiel is going to find him crazy-

“Damn, Sammy, you’ve got talent.” Dean says, and he actually sounds impressed. “W- what?”

“That is incredibly written and a wonderful idea, I think we should go on a roadtrip ourselves,” Dean nodded in agreement. “Is this why you’re crying? I think this is perfect.”

“Wait - you two do find it weird or anything?”

Castiel and Dean look confused. “Why would you think that Sammy? I like it.”

“You should uh - read the comment.” He says, and it takes the angel and older hunter a moment to find the comment section at the bottom, Castiel pointing at the button. Their faces turn into pure fury.

“I’m going to smite them.” Castiel all but growls out, and Dean shuts the laptop closed. “Don’t listen to ‘em, this is fucking amazing, got it? I want the second chapter. Don’t listen to what anyone else says, they're probably jealous that we’ve got a New York bestseller writer and all they can do is write the abc’s.” Dean hugs his brother, Castiel immediately joining right in and Sam sighs happily. They stay there for a bit, muttering out a ‘thank you’ before jumping up slightly, seeing that he’s gotten two more comments on his fanfiction, and nervously opens up the comment section to see that a user called ‘quicksilvermalec’ writing on how much they enjoyed the fic and can’t wait to read the second chapter while an anonymous user has attacked the one that insulted him, throwing a whole truckload of insults and Castiel smiles. “They got what they deserved.” The archangel says, and Dean shouts ‘damn straight’ joyfully. “Would the two of you want to write fanfiction with me, then?” Sam asks while writing the second chapter about an hour later, and the unison ‘yes’ gives him a warm feeling in his chest.

#sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #archangel!castiel #ficlet #gen fic #genfic #supernatural #fluff #representation week

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astouract · 4 years

Text

12 Days of December | Day 7

Sharing is Caring

A/N: for those of you who don’t know, most of the fics I had scheduled to post for this challenge never posted and instead dropped off the face of the earth. I was able to get this one back, and my fingers are crossed that it’ll upload okay. I usually don’t write directly on tumblr for that exact reason, but I wanted to make the process more seamless 🙄 I’ll upload the fics as I recover them.

Stan lifted his mug of hot chocolate to his lips, leaning back contentedly against the countertop. It was a brisk 65 degrees, and finally cold enough to wear his favorite red and white sweater. Only once it got this cold could he justify drinking anything other than water--as long as the alternative was hot chocolate. Colorful lights sparkled in his eyes as he observed the Christmas decorations meticulously placed in his apartment--a project he had just finished the night before.

His gaze had just settled on the festive tree in the corner when his phone lit up beside him. Jimmy’s face flashed across the screen, and Stan smiled warmly as he lifted the phone to his ear.

“Jimothy,” he chirped, settling again into the countertop.

“Morning, Staniel,” Jimmy said with a yawn.

Stan raised his wrist to check his watch. “It’s four in the afternoon.”

“Is it?” Jimmy paused. “Well, it’s morning somewhere. Hey so I’m about to run to Burger Shot if you wanna come with?”

Stan pulled the curtain back from his kitchen window, peering outside as a draft blew in from the cracks. “Sure! I’d love to tag along, I’ll be there in approximately. . . fifteen seconds.”

“Alright, Stan.”

Stan ended the call, striding across the room to slide into his boat shoes and grab his fanny pack.

He was at Jimmy’s door in ten seconds, and the door swung open before he could even knock on the cheap wood. “Ready to go,” Stan announced, letting himself in with a smile that soon faded as he looked around the apartment.

“Wow, that sweater is. . . Festive. What’s wrong?” Jimmy shrugged his jacket on, looking over his shoulder to see the frown on Stan’s face.

Stan gestured in front of him. “This is your Christmas tree? Where are all the ornaments?”

Jimmy followed Stan’s gaze to the plastic tree standing in the corner. He smiled sheepishly, choking out an awkward laugh as his hand went up to rub the back of his neck. “Oh, uh, I got it yesterday. So I, um, don’t have any ornaments. Or lights. Or anything.”

Stan’s face lit up like. . . Well, like a Christmas tree. “I’ve got just the thing! Jimmy, follow me!”

He was out the door in a flash, with Jimmy on his trail shouting about Burger Shot.

“I’ll order delivery,” he called back, waving a hand dismissively.

In moments, Stan had guided Jimmy into his apartment, down the hallway, and into his bedroom closet. Pushing the clothes away, he clambered to the back of the dark room while murmuring incoherently.

“You did all of this yourself?” Jimmy asked, eyes jumping from knick knack to knick knack. He stepped into the closet, reaching up and tugging at the light pull.

Stan blinked in the bright light, setting boxes aside to get to the ones he was looking for. “I sure did, I decorate the house every year. And I. . .” He grunted, yanking a big red container from the corner of the closet, “happen to have some extra decorations!”

Turning the light off, Stan proudly carried his treasures out of the room.

“I-I don’t know about this, Stan. I don’t know anything about decorating. Hell, my apartment’s a disaster!”

“That’s what I’m here for!” Stan chirped, locking the front door behind them.

Jimmy rushed ahead to push his door open for Stan, who set the heavy box down in the middle of the living room. In moments, Christmas music was playing, food had been ordered, and Jimmy was seated by Stan on the floor. One by one they began pulling ornaments from the container, setting them carefully off to the side.

“Oh, it’s the reindeer!” Stan reached for the foam 2D reindeer ornament, straightening the folded antler as he smiled warmly down at it. “Roy made this for me at school in second grade.” He flipped it over, displaying the marker signature on the back. “I don’t know how I missed it when I was decorating my tree.”

“You should take that one back with you,” Jimmy suggested, peering down at the keepsake. He could only imagine how much it meant to Stan.

Stan’s gaze snapped to Jimmy’s, as if he’d just been ripped out of a daydream, then broke into a smile. “You could use a little sentimental atmosphere. . .” He placed the ornament in Jimmy’s hand. “I want you to have it.”

“Stan,” Jimmy chided, eyes meeting Stan’s distant blue ones.

“He doesn’t want to see me for Christmas.”

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, it just came bubbling out and now Jimmy was giving him that look--the look that was a mixture of sadness and anger, and resentment. Jimmy usually only looked like that when Stan talked about Roy or Denise.

Jimmy sighed heavily, turning the ornament around in his hands. “I’m sorry, Stan.”

Stan nodded, willing the tears in his eyes to go away as strong arms wrapped around him.

“They’re the ones missing out,” Jimmy said, squeezing him as tightly as he could until he coaxed a chuckle out of him. “I mean, the way your place is decorated? How could anyone not want to spend Christmas with you? It’s like a museum in there.”

Stan broke into laughter, and Jimmy released his hold on the older man. “I’ve had a lot of time to collect things.”

They continued on with unpacking the ornaments, and Stan told stories about almost each one until they were all laid out on the carpet.

“Now,” Stan said, getting to his feet. “There are some rules.”

“Oh, God.”

“It’s not that hard!” Stan backtracked, grabbing a pair of wooden tie-ons, “It’s really simple. I always start with the types of ornaments that have the most pieces, that way it’s easier to distribute them.”

“O. . . Kay,” Jimmy nodded, grabbing another handful of tie-ons.

“And you always want to make sure that you place them far enough apart from each other. Also, try to save the strongest branches for the heavier ornaments--actually, ignore that rule because this isn’t a real tree.” Stan noticed the overwhelmed expression on Jimmy’s face, the way he stared at the tree with wide eyes as if it might jump out at him any second.

“Or. . . We can just stick the ornaments on without any kind of rules?”

“Great idea!”

Stan threw his ideals out the window, and started throwing ornaments onto the tree. It was almost fun, to just forget about all of the planning and just put the baubles wherever felt right. Between the dinner break, Christmas music solos, and haphazard decorating, the time flew by until the only thing left off of the tree was the big red bow.

Stan looked from the bow to the top of the tree in uncertainty. “You wouldn’t happen to have a step stool?”

Jimmy clicked his tongue. “Nope, but I do have a chair.” He left the living room to return with a rickety kitchen chair and a sheepish smile. “I’ll go up.”

Stan’s instinct was to insist that he go up himself, but after more consideration, he figured that he was much heavier than Jimmy. He handed the bow to the shorter man, who immediately climbed up onto the chair. It creaked and groaned underneath Jimmy’s weight, but stayed standing regardless.

“Make sure you fluff it up just a bit,” Stan said, “just bend the wires a little until it looks less smashed.”

“Can do.” Jimmy toyed with the ribbon until it looked satisfactory, and set himself to tying it to the treetop.

He had to stand on his toes just to reach, and the chair wobbled underneath him as he bent forward to wrap the twist tie around the top branch.

“Be careful!” Stan warned.

“Got it!” Jimmy exclaimed at the same time, just as he took too big of a step back.

He tried to steady himself once his foot hit the ground, but he continued to stumble over himself. Jimmy braced himself for the fall, but strong arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him close.

“Jesus,” Jimmy breathed, “thanks, Stan.”

“Sure thing, It--It was nothing.”

Stan caught Jimmy’s gaze, and he was wearing that look. The one where his lips rest ever so slightly apart, with his head tilted ever so slightly to the side. The one where he looks at Stan like he’s the sun, moon, and all of the stars--the one that makes Stan want to. . .

Suddenly his lips were on Jimmy’s, and Jimmy’s hands were cupping his face. Stan’s arms wound themselves tighter around him, pulling Jimmy as close as he could without being overbearing. He felt so fragile in Stan’s arms, and he felt the weight of Jimmy’s trust in him.

As quickly as the kiss had happened, it was over. Stan held Jimmy as close as possible, resting his chin on Jimmy’s shoulder.

“Will you stay with me for Christmas?”

The silence hung heavy in the air, and Stan’s heart dropped at the thought that he could’ve made a big mistake. What if he’d ruined their friendship by pushing his feelings into Jimmy? What if he’d destroyed all trust Jimmy had in him?

Stupid, Stan.

“Sure Stan, I’d like that.”

#friendlypack #late christmas fic #i was pissed at first but now im more mad at myself #stan wheeler #jimmy bending

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iamvegorott · 5 years

Text

Protective Ch. 5

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The First Breakfast

Peter shuffled back and forth between his feet, standing in front of Loki’s bedroom door and trying to gain the courage to knock. He wasn’t sure what he was and wasn’t allowed to touch and he also had no idea where anything was and didn’t want to go through Loki’s kitchen without at least his knowledge. Peter raised a hand and then lowered it, he could wait a little longer, right? He wasn’t that hungry. Peter’s stomach growled loudly and he looked down at it. Maybe he was a little more hungry than he thought.

“Loki?” Peter said softly, groaning when he got no response. “Loki?” He tried again, a little louder. Still nothing. “Loki?” Peter knocked on the door this time, flinching when he got a grunt in response. “I-I...uh…” Peter took a step back when Loki opened the door.

“What do you need?” Loki asked, raising a brow when he caught that Peter yelped and turned his head away. “Peter?” Loki then noticed that Peter was still wearing in his Spider suit, meaning he slept in it. “You don’t have any clothes, do you?”

“No,” Peter answered.

Loki turned and went back into his room, sleeping in his suit could not have been comfortable for the kid. He walked over to a large dresser and opened the bottom drawers, he was sure he had a pair of sweatpants that should fit Peter somewhat. Loki found a pair of black sweatpants and he tossed them to Peter after straightening up.

“Here, those should at least stay on you.” Loki waited for Peter to talk away. “What?”

“Can I have a shirt, too, please?” Peter asked, staring at the pants and his voice just loud enough for Loki to hear. Peter saying that made Loki realize that he wasn’t wearing a shirt at that moment, was that making Peter uncomfortable? He was in his male form but maybe it was something that Loki didn’t understand.

“Yeah.” Loki opened the door to his walk-in closet, grabbing the first two shirts in his sleepwear section. He quickly slipped one on himself and gave the other to Peter. “Now, for the reason, you’re knocking on my door?” Loki asked.

“I got hungry,” Peter said, only getting a look from Loki. “And I wanted to know if I could make pancakes.”

“Do you know how to make pancakes?”

“I’ve watched Mr. Stark do it a few times.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Loki stepped out of his room and closed the door. “Go change and I’ll start making up some crepes.”

“Crepes?” Peter tilted his head before smiling and perking up. “Cool!”

“Do you know what crepes are?” Loki asked.

“Yeah! They’re like skinny pancakes.” Peter happily giggled and took off to his room, leaving Loki to just stand there.

“But they’re...whatever.” Loki sighed and went down the stairs.

The first thing Loki did when he went into the kitchen was put fresh water into the kettle and turn it on, he was going to need some high caffeine tea today, he could feel it. There was some peaceful silence as Loki gathered ingredients, turned on the stovetop, and started to make the mix, softly humming to himself as he worked. Loki actually enjoyed cook and baking much more than he’d ever verbally admit, so at least there was one good thing about having the kid here. Loki dropped his spoon into the bowl when there was a sudden crash from upstairs.

“I’m okay!” Peter called.

“What was that?” Loki called back.

“The shirt fell.”

“That sounded heavier than a shirt.”

“I was in it,” Peter said before breaking out into laughter. “It worked! I can’t believe it worked!” Loki could only give Peter a glare with a hand on his hip when Peter came bouncing down the stairs. “You’ve never seen that post?”

“Post? What post?”

“On Tumblr.”

“What?”

“I have to educate you.” Peter’s eyes went wide with excitement.

“Sit. You’re doing no such thing.”

“But-”

“Sit.” Loki pointed at the table and Peter could only pout as he went over, doing what he was told. “I see that the pants fit,” Loki stated, going back to stirring.

“It has a string so I just tightened it,” Peter responded, looking around the room.

“We’ll head out later and get you some clothes and anything else you’ll need while you’re here.” Loki glanced over his shoulder and saw Peter picking at his fingers, clearly trying to find something to do. “I have books but I’m assuming you like to do more than reading.”

“I like to read, what kind of books do you have?” Peter was now kicking his legs around, making Loki take a mental note that Peter cannot stay still to save his life.

“I have quite the collection actually, head into the living room and that door to your right is to my library.”

“You have a library!?” Peter bounced up to his feet. “That’s so cool!” He stopped and looked at the kettle right before it went off.

“Go ahead, just don’t damage any of my books, some of them are first editions.” Loki turned off the kettle. “I’ll come get you when I’m done, what kind of tea do you want?” Loki heard Peter make a strange grunting sound and he saw a look of disgust on Peter’s face. “Do you not like tea?”

“I mean, it’s fine, it’s just all...bittery.” Peter scrunched up his face at the last word.

“Let me make you something and if you don’t like that, we’ll stock up on soda or Gatorade or whatever it is teenagers drink.”

“Water also works.” Peter chuckled. “Teenagers don’t live on only caffeine.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Loki said and started going through his tea boxes.

“I’m gonna go check out the library,” Peter said, getting a hum from Loki before he took off.

Peter practically ran to the door Loki talked about, excitement bubbling inside of him as he opened the door. Peter let out a squeak as his jaw dropped at the sight of Loki’s home library. It looked like it was larger than the one in his hometown if that was even possible. Peter walked slowly as if scared to make a sound as he neared one of the many, tall shelves that made their way to the ceiling. Peter found a tall ladder that he assumed Loki used to reach the higher shelves and he climbed up to the very top, finding that there was actually a space between the shelves and the ceiling. Just enough space for him to slide into. Peter smiled and grabbed the first book he saw and went into the nook, nuzzling himself right into the corner. He opened the book and discovered that it was a fiction book and after a quick skim of the summary, it was a sci-fi one. Peter let out one more happy sigh and got comfortable, allowing himself to get lost into the world that formed in his mind, guided by the words on the pages.

——————– ——————– ——————–

Tag List: @mirrored-calamity @wolfbear135 @thesinginggal

Let me know if you want to be tagged! ^_^

#marvel #peter parker #spider-man #loki #thor

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minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong · 5 years

Text

Ephemera Chapter Sixteen

Ephemera: In art, transitory written and printed matter (receipts, notes, tickets, clippings, etc.) not originally intended to be kept or preserved.

Alternatively, things that exist or are used for only a short time.

Description: Nobody knows who Vante really is. Everything about the popular artist is shrouded in secrecy: from his face to his name to everything in between. After years of working for his art gallery, Y/N feels she may just be the closest thing he has to a friend. Between her success at work and her relationship with campus hot-shot Jeon Jungkook, Y/N’s life has never been better. But is Jungkook truly who he says he is? And who will Y/N protect now that she knows Vante’s livelihood may be on the line?

Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst

Pairing: Jungkook x (f) Reader x Taehyung

Word Count: 5.5k

Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Gang!Au, Art History Student!Reader, Film Student!Jungkook, Art Student!Taehyung

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol, although infrequently

A/N: Woo hello! I’ve had a wild few days, but here we are! I hope you guys enjoy the chapter. As always, I’m so so grateful for your support and feedback. It means more to me than I’ll ever be able to say. I’ll try to get this chapter up on time, but it might come a few hours early/late because of the way the queue system works on Tumblr. Anyway, please don’t be shy and send feedback, critique, questions, theories, and comments my way. I’ll be sure to respond to all asks I receive within a day of receiving them! Links will be added later, so for now check my masterlist to find previous chapters!

And again, if you want to follow my Twitter, my username is @/plzpunchmebts. I’m super active over there and hopefully in the future I’ll do some livestreams/chats with you all! And concert videos!!

- Mercury

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

Masterlist

Weekly updates: Sunday, 1PM (PST)

My common sense returned quickly and I leapt away from Jungkook, hands touching my mouth. His eyes were wide, lips still pursed like we were kissing, and there was a look in his face like he’d been slapped: shock and betrayal. I watched, nervous, as he opened his mouth to say something, probably something too loud. Before his mind could run circles, I shook my head and approached quickly once more, clamping a hand over his mouth.

“We’re in your headquarters right now,” I whispered tersely.

I glanced around the back corner, suspicious, and thought perhaps I caught sight of movement out the corner of my eye beside the dividers. My whole body tensed and I clenched my jaw.

“If we’re gonna talk more, we’ve gotta get out of here,” I said through my teeth, glancing around.

Jungkook stiffened beneath my fingertips and nodded once. “Let’s go to my apartment,” he mumbled against my palm.

My eyes flashed back toward him, brows furrowed. “And risk running into Seokjin?”

He blinked at me. “Then…yours?”

I swallowed hard, thinking. Was this wise? Was it a good idea to indulge this relationship that would, undoubtedly, end poorly a second time? I wasn’t certain. But I knew from the shy warmth in his cheeks and the way his eyes were already smiling that I didn’t have much of a choice.

I kicked off my shoes and fell against the sofa with a thud, sighing as my legs draped over the arm of the couch. Jungkook chuckled and joined me, sitting properly beside my head. He smoothed his hand against my forehead, guiding my hair out of my face. I wanted to hate it, to hate him, but I simply eased into the feeling and shut my eyes, humming a little.

“So let’s talk,” he said gently, voice soft but strong. Just like him.

I nodded. “What are we gonna talk about?”

He sounded like he was smiling when he replied. “How’s your dad?”

I sighed. “Good. That good-for-nothing punk he hired for harvesting is still slacking.”

He chuckled and rubbed my cheek with his thumb. “You two really are similar.”

“You said that last time,” I mumbled, opening one eye to look up at him.

He smiled and nodded, staring at me from above with a tenderness that nearly knocked the breath out of me. “What I mean is…you two are both really soft on other people.”

“Oh,” I said, sitting upright and pulling my legs to my chest, putting distance between the two of us. I smirked. “Then was I too soft on forgiving you?”

He rolled his eyes and pulled me to his side with a laugh. “Don’t bully me.”

“I’ve earned it.”

He sighed. “Anyway…you’re a bit different these days.”

I was quiet for a moment before nodding. “Yeah.”

“I’m proud of you.”

I stiffened, glancing at him out the corner of my eye. He was smiling gently, looking at the opposite wall like there was something interesting there and not a blank TV screen. He smoothed absent circles into my shoulder as his arm draped across it. The picture of ease, it was almost like the words had escaped without a plan.

I swallowed hard and felt the need to look away, my cheeks flaring. I cleared my throat. “Ah, well…,” I began, smiling at my hands as they sat on my lap. “Thank you.”

“When I was a kid, I won a taekwondo competition for the first time,” said Jungkook with a smile and a nod. “And my dad said, ‘Good. Now do it again so they don’t think it was a fluke.’” He hummed. “Now that you’re here, you gotta keep doing well for yourself to prove that it’s not just a fluke.”

I raised my brows. “Your…your dad,” I hedged, eyeing him from below. He looked peaceful, still unbothered. I exhaled slowly. “You mentioned your dad was a deadbeat…”

He nodded. “Mhm,” he said with a comfortable sigh. “Had a shitty DVD rental shop that went under.”

I watched the patch of sunlight from the window shift with the geometric shadows of a tree branch in the breeze. “Did he open it himself?”

“Yeah, asshole had no business opening a shop,” he said with a sigh. “He’s a drunk, you know? So he’d always go into the store hammered and drive customers away. When I was young, I used to help out around the shop, but every day I watched him sit behind the counter like a prop or something. He rarely spoke to the customers, rarely stocked the shelves. Just…an all-around shitty owner.”

I nodded and leaned my head against his shoulder. “You picked up the slack?”

He hummed. “Yep,” he said, then I felt him shrug. “Wasn’t so bad. You learn a lot when you’re working young. How to be responsible even when adults aren’t,” he chuckled. “Mom used to scold me for going there after school instead of coming home and doing my schoolwork. But I told her I wanted to be a taekwondo champ so I didn’t need an education anyway. Said I might as well help Dad.”

“Was it stressful?”

“No,” he said with a sigh. “Scary sometimes, since Dad gets loud when he’s drunk. No, like…aggressive. Just loud and stupid.”

I nodded. “You took on a lot as a kid.”

“Wasn’t ever a problem until it started interfering with my taekwondo,” he said. He ran his fingers up and down my arm. Like a comforting gesture. Like I was the one who needed comforting. “I had to start skipping practice to work since Dad wasn’t pulling his weight and eventually I had to quit. Mom was pissed, but she thought I might focus more on my grades.”

“Wait, you had to quit just like that?” I asked, stunned. I sat up and looked at him head-on, eyes wide.

He laughed and raised a hand to pat my head, smoothing my hair down. “Just like that.”

I furrowed my brow. “That’s not fair at all.”

“Life’s like that sometimes. Only the lucky ones expect it to be fair,” he said, then shrugged and guided me back to his side. “It’s pretty lucky though, because since I was spending so much time at the DVD shop I got to watch a lot of movies. Got really interested in film.”

“So that’s how you found your passion,” I said with a nod.

He smiled. “Cute,” he said, chuckling as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the side of my head. “I guess you could put it that way.” He exhaled, long and slow, and rested his cheek against my head. “Seeing all those directors, watching the art they made from the ugly, everyday parts of life…it was definitely inspiring in a weird way. Made me feel like even if I was miserable, at least it would make for good film.”

The more I heard, the more similar Jungkook and Taehyung seemed to me…

I laughed. “That’s dark, Jungkook,” I said, sighing. “Edvard Munch said that art comes from both joy and pain,” I began, eyeing him with a smile, “but mostly pain.”

He chuckled and nodded. “Edvard guy’s right,” he said. “I guess…when the shop went bankrupt it was most devastating for me. Probably because of all the films we’d have to destroy. The life we’d have to destroy. Maybe it’s because I was a teenager, but it kinda felt like everything I loved was running away from me and there was nothing I could do to hold onto it.”

I nodded. “Is that when you started selling drugs?” I asked, and immediately regretted it.

He stiffened, eyes wide. “Who told you about that?”

I shook my head. “Seokjin mentioned it while I was…uh…kidnapped,” I said, voice trailing off.

Jungkook sighed, raking his fingers through his hair, and nodded. “I mean…it’s better for you to know anyway I guess.” He leaned back into the couch with a pout. “Anyway, yeah. My mom didn’t have a college degree so she could only find shitty work. Waitressing and stuff. And Haneul was just getting into middle school, so we needed the money. He was doing really well in his classes and his teachers thought that if he started taking it seriously, he could get into one of the SKY universities. So…my mom and I started pulling the family up by the bootstraps I guess.”

“Your mom knew you were dealing?” I asked, leaning away to get a better look at him.

There was an old shame in the set of his eyes, the clenching of his jaw. He nodded. “She figured since I was already behind, it didn’t matter what I did as long as it helped the family. We kinda staked all our hopes on Haneul,” he said, shrugging. He wouldn’t look directly at me. “I wasn’t pulling in good money, Dad stopped working altogether and started drinking more, Haneul was trying his best but he was stressed, and my grades were…depressing.”

“But…you got into college…?” I urged, scanning his face.

He chuckled, knotting his hands. “Ah, yeah. Barely. By the time I was applying, Seokjin had found me on the streets and he pulled a few strings. My test scores were just good enough for them to overlook my grades, and with Jin’s help I got in.”

“Jin helped you into college?” I asked, something odd tugging at my heart.

He nodded. “Jin believed in me. Thought it was wrong for me to be selling at my age. I mean, I was eighteen and all so don’t worry, but…,” he sighed. “Anyway, he wanted me to make a better life for myself and he offered me work.”

“So the money you make with Bangtan…,” I began, watching him carefully.

His eyes fell to the floor, face flush. “Uh, yeah. It’s…it’s all going back home.”

“Is Jin letting you live with him for free then?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yeah…”

“And if I succeed and Jin loses everything…”

He turned to me abruptly, eyes wide, and shook his head, grabbing my hands. “No, no! Don’t think about that. I’m already looking into jobs and I’ve got some interviews coming up in a week or so. It’ll be fine.”

I swallowed hard, heart racing, and nodded. But if Jungkook’s reasons for joining the group were so heartbreaking, I didn’t even want to imagine what the others’ were…

Quietly, I reached my hand out and pressed my palm against his jawline, pulling him toward me. I pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek and pulled away, throat tight, with a smile. “You’ve done well, Jungkook.”

His eyes went a little misty, welling up as his lower lids went red. He scanned me for a moment that felt endless, glassy eyes flashing between mine, before he slowly pulled me against his chest and held me tight in an embrace that felt desperate. I slipped my arms around his back and squeezed.

I rocked backwards and forwards on my heels as I stood beside the gallery doors. It seemed that the chaos that Taehyung’s reveal had caused was slowly dying, as traffic to the gallery had slowed significantly. The space itself, however, held remnants of the stampedes. The lightwood floors still bore the scuffs of numerous feet and several frames were nicked and chipped from being bumped.

The relative calm and quiet was welcome to all of us, as Yuri and I worked opposite one another. She sat at the desk, half-asleep as she stared blankly at the computer screen. A few patrons walked past me and I offered them a smile and a bow, waiting until their footsteps had receded to raise myself up once more, making absolutely sure that my hair was settled properly in its bun.

“Y/N, good morning,” said a voice from beside me.

I nearly, jumped, but collected myself and turned to see who had greeted me. Standing slightly shorter than me, Mr. Kwon held his hands latched behind his back, a smile on his face. Seeing him in such a good mood was curious and unusual, but rather than risk incurring his frustration I kept my observation to myself and opted for a simple smile and a bow of my head.

“You seem well today,” he remarked, nodding once.

I smiled. “Yes, Sir.”

“The recent influx in customers has been…disarming for you employees, hasn’t it?” he asked, eyeing me.

I raised my brows. “Ah, well…I certainly can’t speak for everyone, but I would say it’s been a sizable challenge.”

He nodded. “I thought so,” he said with a sigh. “I only ask since you seem rather in touch with your coworkers.”

I stiffened, clasping my hands in front of my thighs. “I do?” I asked.

He smiled slightly, a rare sight, and nodded. “After our discussion of dress code, I started wondering if I was just out of touch with you all,” he said, huffing a little as he adjusted his suit jacket. “Everyone’s performance improved once dress code slackened. I realized that you seemed to understand your coworkers well.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know if I can accept that compliment, Sir.”

He smiled again and nodded. “You have a good sense when you speak up,” he said, exhaling long and slow. Surely, he’d just gotten some good news. This was entirely too out of character to be organic. “I told you once that people only have the power you give them. I think you’re doing well protecting your power.”

I stiffened, swallowing hard. How many of these affirmations could I get? Everyone was saying I’d changed. And if someone as dense as Mr. Kwon could notice, it must have been pretty obvious. Why, then, did something in me feel slightly dissonant? Like it wasn’t lining up just right.

I supposed, when I really thought about it, could I take credit for any of the changes I’d made?

After all, if it weren’t for Taehyung and Jungkook…would I have even bothered to change at all…?

“I’ll be having a meeting with those Japanese philanthropists from a while back,” he said, then smiled again. Unnerving. “The ones you sold to before.”

I nodded. “I remember,” I said with a small, contained grin.

“We’re having some big talks with them moving forward, so please be on your best behavior if they send anyone to the gallery,” said Mr. Kwon with a bow.

I knew I shouldn’t, but my curiosity got the best of me and I grabbed for his cuff. He turned to me with wide eyes. “Uh…what sort of talks are happening?” I asked.

He smiled and put a finger to his lips, a playful bid for silence, and I felt even more unsettled. “Confidential. But when things are set, I promise you will be the first employee to know.”

I raised my brows. “Me?”

He nodded. “I’ll tell you more as we know more,” he began, swiveling on his heel before snapping his fingers and turning back to me. “Ah! Would you grab the new print from the back and place it in the photography section?”

I stiffened. Taehyung started working again? Slowly, I smiled and nodded. “Certainly, Sir.”

“Keep up the good work, ladies!” he called over his shoulder before walking back down the hallway.

Yuri and I exchanged puzzled looks before I shrugged my shoulders and followed suit, wandering down the hall until I reached the back room. A flood of memories rushed over me as I stepped inside the dark, dusty storage space. It felt like a lifetime had passed since I was following Jungkook back here, discovering Taehyung’s workroom, nearly getting caught…

I sighed and picked up my step, grabbing the covered print and removing the white sheet. I folded it and set it atop a shelf, turning back to the piece. And as I did, my confusion and unease only grew.

There in black and white was the familiar scene of Taehyung’s living room, blown up massive. The shot framed the side of his couch from the angle of the floor, leading the eye right toward the window and the monochrome morning light streaming in in shafts and spots. And, dangling off the edge of the couch, was a hand that didn’t look like Taehyung’s. I took a peek at my own fingers and, slowly, pressed them against the photo, matching them with the one in black and white.

A perfect match…

Pulling my jacket up around my shoulders, I walked slowly out onto the sidewalk, bracing the chill with a shiver. I ambled out along the concrete for a moment, my mind absent in my body. Why had Taehyung taken that photo of me? And furthermore, why had he decided to display it for sale in the gallery? Beyond confused, I was…unsettled. Had our relationship ever been that intimate? Had I been sending him signals that I didn’t mean to send?

Or…did I mean to send them?

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I jumped to answer it. “Hello?” I asked, plugging my free ear to block out the city noise.

“Y/N?”

I sighed, leaning against the front of the building, and gripped the bridge of my nose. Of course he had to call right now. “Namjoon…”

He chuckled, like something was funny, before replying. “The one and only,” he said, then hummed. “Although you don’t sound thrilled to hear from me.”

I shook my head. “Sorry. Kind of…a weird day. Lot on my mind.”

“Understood,” he said, clearing his throat. “Not that this topic isn’t fascinating, but I actually called for an update on your work.”

“Work…,” I breathed before it made sense. “Ah, yeah. Well, not much to update yet.”

He was quiet, pensive, for a beat too long. A beat that made me tap my foot on the floor, restless. “Well that’s…unfortunate.”

“Sorry.”

“Have you been trying to infiltrate?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. I’m in and everything. Just…can’t get that information you need. They keep their documents locked up in a basement that I don’t have access to, especially with all the eyes on me there. There’s no way in from the sides and no way to sneak in during the day.”

“Well you’re gonna have to get access.”

I sighed, rubbing my forehead. “I’ve already got a plan, Namjoon.”

“Unless it involves you dropping from the ceiling in the middle of the night and dangling from a wire, I don’t really know if it’ll work. You said this basement is strictly monitored,” he quipped with a sigh.

I nodded, exhausted, and scratched my arm. “A recording,” I said.

“And you think this leader is just gonna spill everything to you?” he asked.

I shrugged, picking at my nail. “I can steer the conversation.”

“You can steer it toward revealing trade secrets?”

I chuckled. “You underestimate how stupid he is.”

He sighed. “I hope so…,” he said, quiet once again. “Well…I guess I’ve just gotta leave it to you then.”

“I guess so.”

“Well…I won’t keep you then. Get to work.”

I scoffed. I’d just gotten off work and already-

I managed a tight-lipped smile and nodded once more, though he couldn’t see. “Sure thing,” I said before hanging up and shoving my phone roughly into my bag.

He didn’t strike me as a bad man. Perhaps a little eccentric and enigmatic, but not mean-spirited. But the guilt was starting to get to me. If exposing Seokjin meant ruining the lives of the people working under him…

Could I justify my petty revenge plot?

I rubbed my chin and stewed over it, so engrossed in my thoughts that I almost didn’t notice Nara standing beside a pillar, coat pulled up around her neck, chin buried in her shirt, eyes down and sniffling. But when I did see her, I nearly jumped out of my skin and without a second’s pause, I rushed to her side and grabbed her by the upper arms.

“Nara!” I said, gasping as she looked at me properly. Her silver hair was disheveled and her skin was red, eyes puffy and cheeks wet from still-falling tears. No makeup, just the natural blush of crying. “Oh my God,” I said, and she fell into my arms like she was falling into a warm bed.

She hugged me tightly, holding tightly to my back. So tight that it almost hurt. I wrapped my arms snug around her shoulders and ran my hand along the back of her head, cooing her softly.

“Hey, hey,” I said gently against her hair. She sniffled, crying quietly like she always did. “What’s going on, hm?”

She shook her head against my chest, dampening my shirt. “I…,” she began, then shook her head once more and clutched my back tighter.

I smoothed her hair, shushing her, and nodded. “It’s alright. It’s okay,” I said, guiding her toward the nearby bus stop.

Thankfully at this time of afternoon, it wasn’t too busy. I sat her down on the bench and took the spot beside her, creating a barrier between her and the rest of the world. Still crying, she hugged her legs to her chest and leaned against the side of the bus stop awning. I took her hand in mine and urged her to look at me.

Bloodshot, her eyes were practically shaking as they danced around my face. “Can you tell me what happened?” I asked.

She rubbed her nose and nodded, eyes on the crack in the concrete like it might swallow her up and she might let it. “I lost my job,” she said, voice weak, quivering.

My heart lurched. “Y-you what?”

She nodded, sniffling. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

She sighed and rubbed her arms. “You know that one customer who comes in a lot? The one who saved the stray?” she asked.

I stiffened. Min Yoongi. Swallowing hard, I glanced at her and saw nothing but broken pieces, barely adhered together, of the girl I knew. Cautiously, I nodded my head. “Yeah…”

“Well, he came in looking for a proper food bowl since he’s been feeding that cat out of tupperware or something,” she said, shaking her head. “And he looked, like…like he couldn’t afford it, you know? Like ten bucks on a bowl wasn’t in the monthly budget.”

“Nara…,” I began, groaning.

She sobbed. “I know!” she said, crying into the tops of her knees. “It’s so stupid!”

“Did you just give it to him for free?” I asked.

She nodded. “We break those shitty things all the time at work. Like, bumping the shelf and one breaks. Or sweeping and the broom knocks one down. They’re breakable and cheap,” she said, shaking her head. “So I figured that if I just said I broke it, it’d be fine.”

“Nara,” I said again, brows knit as I rubbed her back.

“I know,” she said. “My boss has been really crazy about the records lately since something keeps happening to the schedule. And on top of it since the shop’s not doing well, he needs to check the video if anything breaks and he saw me giving it to him.”

“Wait, something’s happening with your schedules?” I asked, the wheels in my brain beginning to turn in an unsettling direction.

She nodded, wiping her eyes. “He accused me of doing it since it’s usually my schedule that ends up getting changed. That’s why I haven’t had closing shifts these days,” she said, woeful. “I’d be thankful for a closing shift now…”

I sighed. “Why did you do that, Nara? That guy doesn’t-,” I began, then stopped and shook my head. “He probably doesn’t even need the charity.”

She rubbed her neck and shrugged. “I dunno…,” she mumbled.

I gaped. “Nara,” I said, shaking her arm so she’d look at me with those red, worried eyes. “You didn’t do it just because you have a crush on him, did you?”

“No!” she answered, too quick. I raised my brows and she cried again, crashing into my chest. “Maybe a little bit!”

I rubbed her back despite my frustration and sighed. “Let’s get you home. I’ll find a way to fix this.”

“What?” she asked, pulling back and revealing her tear-stained, red-cheeked face. “What can you do?”

I shook my head. “I’ll explain it some other time. For now just…cry it out,” I said, guiding her back into my side. Even though my motions were gentle, rage was seething in my stomach. And I knew just how to address it.

“Min Yoongi, what the fuck did you do?”

Yoongi jumped as I approached his work desk at the HQ, eyes wide. He pulled his big headphones off his ears and lowered his laptop screen. He was dressed sharper then usual, crisp white dress shirt tucked into nice black slacks. His hair was styled out of his face, and his shoes looked polished. What had he dressed up for anyway? I scoffed. Poor, my ass.

He blinked up at me. “I-what? What do you mean?”

I crossed my arms, furious, and sighed. “Nara lost her job because of you.”

Yoongi stiffened. “What?” he asked, and in his eyes I caught a flicker of genuine shock and guilt.

“She gave you that dog bowl,” I said, then scoffed and shook my head. “But no. That’s not enough for her boss to fire her on the spot.”

Yoongi swallowed hard. “She…”

“Her boss thinks she’s been messing with the schedule to shift it in her favor,” I said, turning my eyes down toward him. He stared off into the middle distance, like his mind was someplace else. “Now, who do we know who can hack into a pet shop’s online schedule and change it, hm?”

Yoongi shook his head and stood up, staggering toward me with one hand extended, palm up like he was asking for something. “Give me her number. I’ll fix it.”

“You’ve done enough,” I said, shaking my head. His eyes flashed toward mine. My stomach clenched. Guilt. I sighed, rubbing my forehead. “Listen, I know you had good intentions.”

He nodded. “I-I just wanted to help her…,” he said, eyes getting faraway once again.

“I know. But…this is Nara’s livelihood on the line, you know? You can’t just stick your hands in someone else’s life like that and expect no consequences,” I said, sighing. “It’s just shitty that the only one having to take responsibility for this is her.”

Yoongi glanced at me like I’d hit a nerve and I almost wished to take it back, but I stood firm. Keeping my eyes on him without wavering. Not even once. “I…Y/N, I’ll take responsibility. I’ll take responsibility.” He repeated it like a mantra, like he wasn’t talking to me anymore. Not really.

I nodded. “I want to believe that, but…I don’t know if I can trust you to do that,” I said, sighing. I gave his shoulder a pat. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Seokjin breezing in through the front doors, and once he noticed me he made a beeline. “You can’t run away though, Yoongi. You’ve gotta face it, okay? No hiding behind a computer screen,” I said, angling my body so Seokjin wouldn’t see my hand sliding into my bag and grabbing my phone as he approached. I quickly pulled up the recorder app and began recording, turning back to Yoongi whose eyes were wide on me. I held a finger to my lips and nodded. “Consider this part of you taking responsibility,” I whispered before shoving my phone back in my pocket and turning to face Seokjin.

He smirked when he saw me. “Huh, would you look at that. And here I thought you were never gonna fulfill your part of the deal,” he said with a chuckle.

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. “Kim Seokjin,” I said, making sure I enunciated every syllable. Even if I felt guilty doing it. “I’ve got a bit of info if you want it.”

He raised his brows. “You don’t say? Well, let’s head down to my office,” he said with a broad smile, sweeping his arm toward the stairs.

I nodded and followed him. We walked in silence until we were in the safe confines of the basement and I settled in the chair in front of his desk. I crossed my legs and watched him carefully, like a deer watching a cougar. Cautious, alert, ready to flee at any moment.

But as he settled into his seat with a contented sigh, I remembered who I was dealing with. “Tell me your news!” he said, clapping his hands once.

I cleared my throat. “I’ve been having meetings with his parents. Turns out his dad owns a law firm and his sister is in the US studying law.”

Seokjin cocked a brow. “Huh,” he said, nodding. “That’s pretty good. Two possible angles.”

I nearly scoffed. What could he possibly do with such vague information? I offered a smile and nodded. “He comes from a pretty wealthy family, so I don’t think taking a financial approach will work,” I said with a nod. “He’s got more than enough money.”

“Right,” said Seokjin, rubbing his jaw. “I’ll think of something.” He paused and glanced back at me, raising his brows. “Is there more?”

I shook my head. “That’s all I’ve got for now. I’ll keep digging though,” I said with a nod.

Seokjin sighed. “Well, nonetheless thanks for the help. He’s a tough guy to crack. Even Yoongi’s having trouble pulling up personal information on him. It’s good that we have you around.”

I stiffened. “Are you…complimenting me right now?” I asked, nearly laughing.

He rolled his eyes. “No,” he said, then cleared his throat. “I’m just saying that I appreciate you doing this. Whatever your motivation is…you’re helping us a lot.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, eyes falling to the desk between us. “I know we don’t have this kind of relationship, but I’m curious,” I began, eyeing him to make sure I wasn’t pushing too hard. “Why is this job so important to you?”

Seokjin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and his thumb. “The stakes,” he said with a nod. “They’re…really high. Our client isn’t someone to mess around with.”

“And if you don’t fulfill your end of the bargain?”

He looked up at me seriously, brows furrowed. “The consequences…will be severe,” he said. It was the most serious I’d ever seen him. And in his eyes was a small measure of fear.

I swallowed white hot guilt down my throat and nodded. “I…I see…”

“It’s why Jungkook wanted you to stop involving yourself,” he said with a nod. “It’s remarkably dangerous.”

I nodded. “Yoongi said something similar,” I said.

Seokjin laced his fingers and rested his hands against his lips, eyes focused on something on his desk. “Yeah,” he said. “You’re…not really the sort of person who should be involved in all this. You know, corporations are competitive. They’ve gotta be. Markets shift constantly, so you’ve gotta keep an edge.”

“You seem to know a lot about this,” I remarked.

He smirked. “Grew up around it. Silver spoon kid,” he said, sighing. “Growing up in a household like that, I saw how ruthless big companies can get. I realized that corporations are just legal criminals. Figured I could at least get a cut off the corruption.”

My eyes went wide. “All corporations are like that?” I asked.

He shook his head and sighed. “Not Ori,” he said with a nod. “It’s a shame we’ve gotta ruin them, since they’re one of the only good ones to get big.”

“Do…do you have to?” I asked.

He ran fingers through his hair and leaned back in his chair. “Like I said, our client is no joke. If we don’t keep up our end, we could lose a lot more than just money,” he said.

“So you’re being coerced?”

“No,” said Seokjin with a chuckle. “You think really diametrically. Things are rarely that absolute.”

I sighed. “But you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared of anything.”

“You’re scared of your client.”

He was quiet for a moment, before meeting my eyes severely. “You would be too if you knew who they were.”

I raised my brows, heart racing as I neared the elusive piece of crucial information I’d been seeking from the start. “Try me,” I offered.

He took a deep breath, shut his eyes for a moment, then looked at me dead on. And without him saying a single word, I felt his anxiety. I felt his uneasiness. I felt his fear. I felt it all. He inhaled sharply and lowered his gaze. “Our client,” he began, and my legs bounced with anticipation, “is Sanyo Industries.”

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darks-ink · 5 years

Text

Disinterred CH.14

Vlad Masters considered himself a patient man. He had, after all, waited a long 20 years before he ever acted on his plans of vengeance. He had spend the last 2 years carefully manipulating Daniel to become his son and half-ghost apprentice.

And he had waited a full week for Valerie Gray to catch her bounty.

(Tumblr hates links and I want this to appear in the tags so… for author notes/full fic summary/links to the other chapters/mirror links to AO3 and FFnet, click here)

Valerie hesitated briefly on the doorstep of FentonWorks. The day before had been her first time visiting the house, but she didn’t think it really counted. She had only been there to drop off Danielle, and she hadn’t even used the front door! Hell, she hadn’t even entered the damn house!

Finally she pressed the doorbell. A veritable explosion of noise came from the house, briefly startling Valerie. What was going on in there?

But before she could really think of anything the door swung open. The thundering footsteps she heard before stopped somewhere further in the house.

In the opening of the door stood a teenage boy. His hair was black as the night and his eyes icy blue. Just who she was looking for.

“Hey Val,” Danny greeted, stepping aside to let her in. “I hope dad didn’t startle you – he’s waiting for Jazz to arrive.”

“She’s coming over for the Summer vacation then?” she asked as she entered. Jack was lingering in the doorway to the living room, deflating a little when he saw her. Valerie tried not to feel offended.

Then the man seemed to realize that he didn’t know her, as he frowned at her.

Danny must’ve noticed too, because he promptly introduced her. “Dad, this is Valerie Gray. She’s a friend from school.”

Valerie smiled at the older man, offering him her hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Fenton.”

He opened his mouth to answer, but the sound of an explosion cut him off. He glanced in the direction of the kitchen for a moment before turning back to face them. “Right, nice to meet you too. Why…” He seemed to be struggling for a polite way to ask her why she was here. Or, more likely, why she was here now.

“I asked her to come over, dad.” Danny took mercy on his dad, and on her, too. She wasn’t exactly scrambling to explain that she already knew about Dani’s presence at FentonWorks. That, in turn, likely would force her to reveal her status as the Red Huntress. And besides the obvious fact that it was a secret identity for a reason, it was no secret that Red hated Phantom. She really didn’t want Jack Fenton to unleash his protective nature on her for threatening his son. Never mind that he had done the same. She highly doubted that he would listen to such reasoning.

Danny had grabbed her arm and started guiding her towards the stairs. “We’ll be in my room. Call if you need anything,” he yelled over his shoulder at his dad.

“Right,” Jack said, blinking somewhat surprised.

And then before she knew it she was standing in Danny’s bedroom. She considered looking around for a moment, but restrained herself to a quick glance. The room was almost entirely blue, with space-themed decoration scattered around the room. Quite fitting for a boy who had expressed an interest in space and becoming an astronaut.

But for now she needed to focus on the reason why she was here in the first place. After all, yesterday Danny had promised to tell her everything. And this morning he had texted her, telling her to come over so they could talk in private. Without the risk of anybody overhearing.

“Sooo,” she finally said when she felt like the silence had lingered too long, making sure to draw out to ‘o’. “You were going to tell me the whole story?”

“Right.” Danny glanced around the room before offering her a chair. She sat down while he sank down onto his bed. “It’s… a long story. And complicated.”

“I’ve got time.” She shot him a reassuring smile, and Danny visibly relaxed. His posture eased up, muscles unclenching. Valerie had a pretty good idea of how he felt. She had gone through her fair share of awkward conversations with her dad since she had become a ghost hunter.

“Okay, so… This whole mess started some 20 years ago, when my parents were in college.” Danny leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “They were part of this ghost hunting club. The two of them… and Vlad.”

Valerie nodded to show that she was following. Danny sighed and continued speaking.

“All three of them were close, I guess. I don’t know much. None of them like to talk about it. Anyway, the three of them somehow figured out that there was an alternate dimension where ghosts resided. They built a machine trying to get there. A Portal. A small one, especially compared to the one in the basement, but a Portal nonetheless.”

“And it didn’t work?” Valerie asked, now also leaning forward, intrigued. She figured that if that Portal had worked, ghosts would’ve been known way sooner. At the very least Danny’s parents would’ve been far more prepared for them – and Vlad Masters likely wouldn’t have hidden his ghost hunting past.

“Nope. It exploded in Vlad’s face. He got a horrible case of Ecto-Acne, and…” Danny paused for a moment before sighing again. “And he became the first known half-ghost. 20 years before I got my powers.”

“Oh,” she said. That was… unexpected. But then Danny had never told her how he had become half-ghost, either. Had he gone through something similar? “But wait. If you left behind a body when you became half-ghost, why didn’t Vlad?”

“I don’t know,” Danny admitted with a shrug. “I guess it might’ve been because he didn’t instantly become half-ghost. He suffered through that whole slow Ecto-Acne thing.”

“And I’m guessing that you become a half-ghost in a similar way?” she mused.

“Uh, yeah.” He made a face. “I never told you? When my parents first tried to turn on the Fenton Portal downstairs it didn’t work. Sam and Tucker talked me into checking it out, I tripped over a cable, and accidentally turned it on.”

Yeesh, that didn’t sound pleasant. She hissed through her teeth. “While you were still inside it huh?”

“Yup.” He shrugged. “It was only like a bazillion volts of electricity and ectoplasm, no biggie. It only hurt for a few infinitely long seconds.”

Then he shifted slightly before starting to talk again, clearly eager to change the topic. “Anyway, to get back to what we were talking about. Vlad became the first halfa. Then he cut all contact with my parents, and now blames them, saying that they cut him out of their lives. On top of that he still blames my dad for the accident and wants to kill him. And he wants my mom as his wife because he has been in love with her since college.”

“Jesus.” That was… a lot. And here she was, thinking that she was overwhelmed by all of this ghost business. She had nothing on Danny! No wonder that he always seemed so tired and exhausted in school. “And he wants you as his son, right? Because you’re half-ghost too.”

Danny nodded. “He’s been badgering me since he found out, which was a few months after the Accident. I told him off, since he kept asking me to renounce my dad and all that. I mean, he straight-up told me he wanted to kill my dad, and then asked me to join him!” He hissed something under his breath, which sounded somewhat like “fruitloop”. Then he spoke again in his previous volume. “I guess when that failed he went to acquire some other pawns instead.”

A pawn like… “Like me?”

Danny said nothing, he just nodded again. The grimace on his face told her enough, though.

“Of course.” She pressed her hands against her face and groaned. “I can’t believe I fell for that! Why didn’t I question someone who send a fucking 14-year old ghost hunting equipment! Of course there was something shady going on!” The best ghost hunter he knew, her ass! The most naive, maybe.

“Valerie, it’s okay. I don’t blame you.” His voice was soft, soothing. It reminded her of how badly she could’ve hurt him. Of what she wanted to do to him.

“That doesn’t make it okay, Danny!” she snapped, dragging her hands off of her face again. “He manipulated me. He wanted me to hunt you, knowing that you were… that you are human!”

She was breathing quickly, heavily. She wasn’t just upset, she was angry. She couldn’t believe what that slime of a human being had almost made her do!

“And then he asked me to track down your clone! Which he made! Who is, without a doubt, just as human as you!” she exclaimed with a growl.

And then she stopped in her track. She suddenly remembered the girl she had brought to the Fentons just the day before. The girl who looked like she had been on the verge of collapsing, of dying.

“Oh god, Danielle. I completely forgot about her!” She started to scramble up out of her chair, half-raised before Danny spoke.

“Shh,” Danny soothed, raising his hands placatingly. “She’s fine. We managed to stabilize her.”

“Good.” Valerie slumped back into the seat with a sigh. “What’s… What’s she gonna do next?”

“Well, mom and dad are really excited about the prospect of a new daughter.” He grinned, smile widening at her incredulous expression. “So we’re going to have to sort all of that out, but… She’s gonna stay with us.”

“Good, that’s… That’s good.” Valerie let herself relax into the chair a little further. “What… are we going to do about Vlad?”

“I don’t know,” Danny admitted. “I never really figured out how to deal with him, to be honest. For now Dani is more important.”

“But he’s going to want to know why I didn’t capture her,” Valerie pressed. “What am I supposed to tell him?” A little bit of frustration slipped through in her tone. But she had gotten herself into this mess, so she wouldn’t let Danny suffer for it. Not this time.

“Well,” Danny said with a bit of smirk. “Why don’t you tell him–”

And he had waited a full week for Valerie Gray to catch her bounty.

Yet no ghost huntress came. Despite her previous successes, the girl had apparently failed to capture the pathetic should-be clone. It was rather disappointing, especially since she hadn’t even bothered to let him know. That’s what he got for relying on teenagers, he supposed.

He sneered and hit the call button. He would have to ask her about her failure in person.

Soon enough the teenage huntress appeared, retracting her board and landing on the floor in front of his desk. Her helmet retracted, her face neutral for once.

“Mr. Masters,” she greeted, voice rather emotionless.

“Miss Gray,” he allowed with a slight nod of his head. “I must inquire on the status of your hunt of the little Phantom. I’m afraid that I don’t quite feel safe, knowing that she might still be out there somewhere.”

“Right.” Valerie grimaced a little, apparently displeased by her lack of success. She turned away, looking at one of his walls instead of him. “Sorry, Mr. Masters. I… I failed.”

It was rather unlike her to admit failure. No, Valerie was persistent. She didn’t give up. So why had she?

“What happened, my dear girl?” he asked, voice smooth and purring.

“I, uh. I tracked her down, but she got away.” She turned to face him again, an apologetic look on her face. Frustration laced her voice, however. “Somehow Phantom, the regular Phantom, found out. He interfered before I could catch the girl ghost and escaped with her.” She shrugged. “I don’t know what happened after that, I haven’t seen either of them since then. I haven’t been able to pick them up on the scanner, either.”

Her being unable to find them made sense. If they shifted into their human forms Valerie’s scanners would fail to pick up on them. Even if their ghostly cores stayed in human form, they were dormant. Weak enough to avoid detection.

But importantly… How did Daniel find out about Danielle’s presence in the city? It made no sense. But Valerie wouldn’t lie to him, not about this. Her anger towards Daniel’s ghost form would blind her. She wouldn’t work together with him, not to save another ghost.

“How… unfortunate,” he told her. “You might understand, dear girl, that I can’t reward you for this?”

“No,” she sighed. “I understand, Mr. Masters.”

“Well, you better get going then, my dear.” He smiled at her, his smooth politician smile. He couldn’t afford to cast her out. Who knew when she might come in handy as pawn, even if she had failed this time. “And next time, please tell me sooner.”

“Yes Mr. Masters,” she said as her hoverboard reformed again. Her expression was stern, focused. Determined. “It won’t happen again.”

No, he was sure it wouldn’t. Next time he would take care of it himself, rather than trust a teenager like little miss Gray to take care of something this important. Or maybe he would send one of his ghostly pawns. Even if his vultures or Skulker weren’t much more successful in the past, at least they informed him when they failed.

For now though, he had another teenage ghost hunter to bother. If Daniel had interfered and grabbed Danielle like Valerie suggested, he still had her hidden somewhere. But he couldn’t have disappeared, not like she had suggested. He still had his human life, his family to fool.

So what Vlad needed to do was pay the boy a little visit. A quick stop by FentonWorks to speak with him. Yes, and either the boy would admit where Danielle was on his own… or Vlad could just stick a tracker on him.

Another infallible plan, truly.

The door to FentonWorks opened, and Vlad let loose one of his few heart-felt smiles. Because standing there in front of him is the ever-beautiful Maddie. Her clothes left something to wish for, that dreadful jumpsuit that Jack forced on her, but still. She was as gorgeous as always.

“Ah, Madeline–” he started to say, but she held up her hand and cut him off.

“Vlad.” Her tone was hard. Unfriendly. “Come in.”

He had to admit… he was confused. She didn’t seem very welcoming, perhaps something was going on? But then why would she let him come in? Unless it was him that she was annoyed with, but surely not? What could he have done to have angered her?

She walked into the living room, and Vlad trailed in right after her. The sight that greeted him, however, stopped him dead in his tracks.

Maddie did continue moving, however, as she sat down on the closest edge of the sectional couch. Next to her sat Jack, his large orange bulk taking up most of the remaining couch. He immediately laid his arm around Maddie’s shoulders, in a rather possessive manner. Vlad would’ve felt more angered at the display if it weren’t for the fact that the rest of the group was distracting him.

Next to Jack sat Jasmine. Her aqua eyes were set on him, cold and cutting. She had one of her arms wrapped around the person sitting next to her. Another girl, with sky-blue eyes and black hair bound back in a ponytail. Danielle. The girl had her arms wrapped around herself, looking uncertain but hopeful. What did she have to look hopeful about? What was she even doing here, among the rest of Daniel’s family?

On the furthest end sat Daniel himself, who also had an arm wrapped around the failed clone. His gaze was hard like his mother’s, but determined. For once the boy didn’t try to intimidate him with his ‘scary eyes’. Vlad would’ve complimented him, but he was sure that the boy was only refraining because he didn’t want the rest of his family to see.

“What’s this?” he finally uttered, turning to look at his should-be wife.

“This,” Daniel said, standing up from the couch and gesturing at it, “is a message, Vlad. You’ve gone too far. And we’re not gonna stand for it any longer.”

“’We’?” he repeated, quirking an eyebrow. Surely the boy hadn’t… He wouldn’t, right? Yes, he hadn’t been fantastic at upholding his end of their truce, but Daniel had been too afraid to reveal his secret. So, surely not?

“Yes, we,” the boy reiterated. “They know, Vlad. They know everything. Everything you’ve said, everything you’ve done, and…” Daniel grinned, a cocky smile usually seen on Phantom. “Everything we are.”

“You didn’t,” he hissed, a snarl forming. Ectoplasm surged, his core thrumming to life. But he repressed it. He had no need for flashy eyes, not like Daniel. The boy was bluffing, and he didn’t need to provide unnecessary evidence. He would be playing right into Daniel’s hand.

“He did.” Vlad turned to face Maddie again, watching as she uncrossed her arms and frowned at him. “And you, Vlad Masters, are a fucked-up mess of a human being.”

He flinched back at the harsh words of his love. Surely she didn’t mean it? Perhaps Daniel had lied, had embellished his stories a little?

“Maddie–”

“No!” she snapped. “You listen to me! You mess with me, fine! You act like a pathetic little man who can’t accept ‘no’ for an answer? Fine! But you know what you don’t do?” She pushed herself off of the couch, jabbing him in the chest with a finger. “You don’t mess with my children! Any of them!”

Then she leaned in even closer, teeth bared like an animal. “And you definitely don’t come here, pretending none of it ever happened!”

He flinched back another step. Maddie relaxed slightly, moving back as well. The rest of her family, including the pathetic clone, rose up as well. They grouped together, all staring down Vlad.

“Now listen here, V-Man.” Jack crossed his arms, an unusually serious look on his face. “I apologize for the accident in college, alright? And I’m sorry that we never knew how much we hurt you. It shouldn’t have happened, even if we weren’t the ones who cut the contact with you.”

“But that’s no excuse to hurt our children,” Maddie added, also crossing her arms. “To hurt us. If you had just talked to us, we would’ve apologized. Would’ve told you we were sorry. Because we are sorry about what happened to you in college.”

“Carrying a grudge like this isn’t healthy,” Jasmine contributed, speaking up for the first time since he had entered. “It’s not okay. Not for us, but definitely not for you. It’ll kill you, sooner or later.”

“But we’re willing to forgive you.” Daniel stared him down, a flicker of… hope, perhaps?… in his eyes. Vlad couldn’t quite place it, it didn’t make sense. Not in this situation. “Everybody deserves a second chance, even you.”

And then finally the little failure joined in. “But you gotta work for it. You have to apologize to everyone and correct your mistakes.”

He snarled, ectoplasm boiling up in answer to his emotions. His vision faded red, a clear sign of his eyes changing color. “The only mistake I’m correcting is you!” Pink ectoplasmic energy sparked around his hands.

The whole group, in answer, shifted into battle positions. The fists of both Daniel and Danielle lit up, coiling flares of ectoplasm, ready to be fired. The other three all pulled out various pieces of ecto-weaponry, hidden heavens know where.

“We’ve given you a choice, Vlad.” Daniel’s eyes lit up green. “Either you take it and apologize, or you get out.” The last words were growled, the threat more than clear.

Vlad took another look at the group assembled in front of him. Then he huffed, his eyes fading back to their normal blue. There was nothing to be won by fighting them. No, what he needed now was time to plan.

“Fine,” he drawled, flapping his hand in a faux casual gesture. “I will see all of you another time, then.”

And he turned around and walked off, not once looking at the people he was leaving behind.

#danny phantom #dp fanfic #phanfic #phanfiction #dp fanfiction #dark writes #disinterred #next week is the final chapter!#[excited dark noises]

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jasntodds · 6 years

Text

Webs Are Lame [p.p.]

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, some angst

Request: hi! i have a really specific request so i understand if you don’t wanna do it or want to change it up! basically the reader can control all elements of nature (air, fire, water, etc) and tony stark kinda takes her under her wing like he did with peter. so basically he sets them up to meet each other since theyre both young and inexperienced and peter thinks her powers are lame until she shows him?? sorry its so specific haha

Summary: You’re set to start training with Peter

A/N: I know Tumblr’s shit at notifications lately, but this is just a reminder that I am going through every single note and checking my tag list and removing people who aren’t interacting starting after the next Parker one-shot. (depending on how long the notification bullshit lasts I might extend it to 2 or 3 more ya know, but so y’all know) ALSO this tag list is closed until further notice

Masterlist

Tony Stark. He’s a mastermind to say the least but he’s someone who can see potential in people even when no one else does. Especially when it comes to kids. That’s where you come in. There were videos of you all over YouTube using wind, water, earth, even fire to save lives and help those who couldn’t help themselves. It wasn’t long before you were visited by the billionaire innovator.

Tony has since taken you under his wing, helping you learn and train. This is actually great for you because you get to actually work alongside him, sometimes, anyway. Plus, with him helping you, you get all new tech that helps protect you and keep you safe. It’s truly a giant winning situation. Until now, anyway.

Tony has the bright idea to bring you and Peter into the training room to meet. You’re both the same age and young, inexperienced. Tony’s idea is that the two of you could work together and learn from each other while also learning together. A sound plan really, until you meet him.

You introduce yourselves while Tony excuses himself so you two can get acquainted but warns the both of you not to break anything or kill each other.

“So, uh, w-what can you do?” Peter asks nervously, looking to his feet and back to you.

“I can control the elements.” You state simply.

Peter’s brows furrow as he shakes his head. He bites his lip and doesn’t say a word. By the silence and the expression on his face, it’s more than obvious he’s biting back whatever he really wants to say.

“What?” You quirk a brow.

“N-nothing, really.” Peter shrugs as his cheeks turn a little red.

“I know you want to say something. What is it?” You push as you cross your arms over your chest.

“It’s just…” Peter starts. “That’s kind of lame.”

You scoff and you roll your eyes, appalled by his words. No one has ever thought your powers were lame, not that many people knew but those who did thought it was cool. You could freeze anything you wanted and set things on fire. You could use wind to create tornadoes and pin people to walls. You can create barricades with the earth and use boulders to trap criminals. Controlling the elements is totally badass. What can Peter do? Stick to walls?

“My powers are lame?” You glare the curly haired boy. “Webs are lame!”

“No, they’re not!” Peter defends. “I created my own web formula and Mr. Stark seems impressed!” Peter starts boasting about his creation making you just roll your eyes again and shift your weight to one leg.

“Dude, you stick to walls. That’s your power. You created a web fluid. Anyone with a genius brain could do that. But your actual power is that you can stick to walls.” Venom is trenched in every word, not taking kindly to Peter's attitude.

“No!” Peter scrunches his nose in annoyance. “I can stop a bus, with my bare hands!” He tosses his arms out, the anger of you minimalizing his powers getting to him. “Everything is dialed to eleven so I can actually, like, I dunno, feel when something is coming and it’s bad and I can hear things other people I can’t. Oh! And I can heal faster than normal people! That's cool!”

“Oooohhh, big deal.” You scoff, putting your nose the air. “I can keep people away from me so I won’t need any of that.”

Peter throws his head back with flaring nostrils and boiling blood. He thought being able to train alongside someone the same age as him would be fun but he thought they’d have better powers or something. There was always something about the ability to control elements that bored him. Sure, he was a fan of shows that showed the powers but in real life? It didn’t seem like it’d be all that special.

“Fine,” Peter looks back to you. “Why don't you prove it?”

In a quick movement, you sent a gust of air his way and pushed him against a wall, pulling the air from his lungs and holding him to the wall for a solid thirty seconds before letting him free. A confident smile crosses your lips as you put your hands behind your back, swaying from the heel of your foot to your toes, proud of your action. Peter slid down the wall, holding his chest and catching his breath.

Peter looks at you, flabbergasted and impressed. “Okay,” Peter takes a deep breath. “I take it back. That was really cool.” Peter sends you a timid smile. “C-can you show me more? But..not on me.”

You send him a bright smile. “Of course but you gotta show me just how strong you are and how your webshooters work.”

“Deal.” Peter says quickly, getting back to his feet.

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#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker headcanon #peter parker imagine #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland headcanon #tom holland imagine #spider-man #spiderman #spider-man: homecoming #spiderman headcanon #spider-man headcanon #spiderman imagine #spider-man imagine #spiderman x reader #spider-man x reader #imagine request #request

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central-city-meta-pocalypse · 6 years

Text

Primrose Path (Harry Wells x Reader, Chapter 14)

Rating: Explicit

Summary: When you, a lovely florist, move to Central City to open your flower shop, you had no idea you’d fall for such a complicated and dangerous man who deals in a less-than-legal business. Harrison Wells - a major player and powerhouse within the underground mafia world of the region - sweeps you off your feet as you quickly become his greatest weakness.

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Mentions of War, Coarse Language, Blood and Violence, Minor Character Deaths

Tag List: @aryaarathornson @cursedfaechild @jadedragon1903 @disneyoncerlover815 @child-of-winter-1215 @thecaptainsgingersnap @miss–mercy @fireboltrose7559 @xccentriktigress @12monkees @harryisjustsocute @obsessedadryana @ill-breach-you-there-right-now (please check to see if your Tumblr settings are set to receive mentions from us for future tag related purposes!)

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4) (Chapter 5) (Chapter 6) (Chapter 7) (Chapter 8) (Chapter 9) (Chapter 10) (Chapter 11) (Chapter 12) (Chapter 13)

A sudden outburst beside you in bed brings you out of your deep sleep.

“Hmm...?” you say groggily. After your eyes adjust to the room, you notice Harry sweating through the bedsheets, tossing and turning and grunting in his sleep, a slave to what you assume is a bad dream.

“Harry?” Finally, he breaks through thanks to the concern in your voice. He bolts upright and breathes heavily, startled in the darkness of the room. You place your hand on his arm which he covers with his own and holds it tight. You ask if he’s alright, but he starts to worry you when he doesn’t respond, just staring straight ahead at nothing. This has never happened before, this kind of fit. You take Harry’s hand and try to get him to look at you.

"What's wrong?"

“Hmm? Nothing. It’s nothing, go back to sleep.”

"Hare." You brush your hair to the side and give him a look that you know he's keeping something from you.

“I can’t...” he says pathetically. You can see whatever it is, it’s hurting him, and you’ve never seen Harry hurt like this before. You carefully move to kneel in front of him and cup his face with both of your hands, seeing the slight glimmer of tears welling up in his eyes.

“Please tell me. I need to know so I can help you. Please, Harrison...”

"I..." He averts his gaze before looking back up to your eyes. "I watched you die. Brutally. Right in front of me and I couldn't do anything. I couldn’t move. You died because of me." Your heart is breaking for him. You can only imagine what that dream could have looked like to him.

"It was just a bad dream, Harry. I'm right here," you say, taking his hand and guiding it to your beating heart. You stroke his temple with your thumb, pressing your forehead against his. Harry breathes you in like you’re the only thing he needs to survive in this world.

"I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere," you tell him, “Remember?” He doesn’t respond with words, though his breathing is starting to return to normal. You both stay still like this for a while. Harry’s eyes close, and you can tell he’s trying to soak in your presence, letting it anchor him to reality.

"I'm just worried…” he starts again quietly, “one day I'll lose you and I wouldn't be able to do anything about it. I'd be completely powerless, robbed of you, and it would kill me. It would kill me, (Y/N)...” Your chest tightens up at his vocalized fears and the way he’s desperately looking at you. You pull him close so that his head rests against your chest.

“Not going to happen. Ever. Not on my watch,” you make the promise, of which you’re not sure you can necessarily keep, but you'll do your very best to keep it because damn everything to hell if you're going to ever have this man more broken than he already is.

Harry exhales as if the weight of his worries are finally leaving his body and mind. At least, for the night. You pet his hair, his arms, his chest all to calm him back into sleeping again.

Harry shifts you over in bed so that he ends up spooning you, holding you close as if you’ve become his security blanket. You hear the tell-tale signs of him falling asleep after a bit, leaving you still awake, deep in thought.

You fear you are becoming exactly what you’d hoped not to be. His weakness. A fragile point that someone can target to get at Harry and his business. You let out a small sigh at your realization. You’ll have to get stronger, for his sake, so that his dream will never come true.

***

The following morning, you fidget with your hands just before Harry is about to leave for work. He’s not going to like what you have to say, but damn it, you’re going to say it anyway!

“Harry, I know you said I’d never have to fight… but I want you to teach me self-defence.” Your tone is defiant and confident as you stand in front of your boyfriend.

“I- why?” he asks, narrowing his eyes. You can tell he’s reluctant to show you anything that would potentially lead you into any kind of danger.

“Last night… your dream, nightmare, it got me thinking. I want to be able to protect myself if anything were to happen-”

“-Nothing is going to happen to you,” he cuts in, seemingly resolved after his outburst last night. “I’m always going to be there to protect you.”

“But what if you’re not, Harry?” you implore, “You can’t always be around ‘just in case’ someone attacks me. And I love you, but I’m not really into the whole ‘damsel-in-distress’ thing. I want to be able to look out for myself, whether you’re there or not.”

The corner of Harry’s lips turn up at your confidence, and you can see him turning the decision over in his mind.

“Alright… self-defence only. Some hand to hand combat, just enough to get yourself out of trouble.”

You grin up at him before slipping your arms around his middle and hugging him tightly.

“Thank you, Harry. When do we start?”

Harry seems to like your eagerness. “Come to the Labs after you finish at the shop and we can get started. We have training rooms under the building.”

“Is there anything you don’t do there?” you ask, to which he smiles and kisses the top of your head.

But, you do as he says and as soon as you lock up after a moderately busy day, you walk the few blocks to S.T.A.R. Labs, already dressed in your workout outfit. Harry meets you at the building’s entrance dressed in a pair of shorts, a tank top, and a hoodie.

All black, naturally.

“Welcome back, sweet pea.” He kisses you hello. “We’re going to head down to the training facility in the basement.”

“Okay,” you say and let him lead the way inside.

It’s an impressive setup - dozens of training rooms all throughout the lowest level. As Harry leads you to your own room, you peek in through the windows seeing his men go at each other viciously. You’re glad they’re on your side.

Your room is completely padded on every wall, including the ceiling. You wring your hands together, unable to help but feel a little nervous now that this is actually happening.

“Where do we start?” you ask.

“Show me your best punch.”

You go to stand directly in front of him, planning to aim for his upper chest area. Pulling back your arm, you let it go and your fist collides with his body.

He doesn’t even flinch.

You try it again with a little more force behind it.

“No, come on. Hit me," Harry says with a little smirk, making a small 'come at me' motion as you stand in front of him, pouting a bit at his teasing.

"I am! You're just so muscular that you can't even feel it!"

You take another swing at him, but he easily blocks you and makes you stumble backwards a few paces.

“You can’t let me use your momentum against you.” He starts to circle you on the mat. “Make your movements smaller, more compact. That’s how you’ll win a fight,” he tells you as you look at him with a determined expression. Although, it was difficult to soak in what he had just told you because Harry had shed his black hoodie, now showing off his jaw-dropping arm muscles that you’ll never tire of. You have the urge to run your hands over them, to feel his sinewy biceps...

"Kitten?"

"Huh, yeah?"

"Were you paying attention?"

"Pft! Yeah, I was totally paying attention and not staring at your… wonderfully muscled body..." your words dying down as you speak. You look at the floor in embarrassment. "I'm trying, okay?" you say with a little laugh, cheeks tinged with pink.

"I know." He comes up behind you, helping position your arms and legs to get a good hit. Not that that does much for your concentration either, because you can’t deny that you love the way his toned body is pressing up against yours.

"And as soon as you can land a good couple of hits, you should have me distracted enough to sweep my leg out so I go down. Got it?"

"Uh... I think?"

You shake yourself out of your little daydream and focus on his instructions because you know he really is trying to help and it is crucial that you get this right. Since Harry initially didn’t want you having anything to do with training of any kind, you needed to prove how serious you were about this. No more would you be his weakness. It takes several more attempts, but finally, you manage to pin him to the mat, a huge grin growing on your face in realization that you actually did it.

"I did it!"

You’re totally unaware that you're straddling his hips. You throw your arms up in triumph, and his hands automatically fly to your hips when they're freed from you, with a small smile on his face. He lifts himself up so that he sat upright, your chests touching and presses a deep kiss to your lips.

"I'm proud of you," he says quietly, still wearing a gentle smile. You return it, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him. Harry gives you small kisses in celebration, which you make happy noises at, lips smacking against each other. But Cisco just has to walk into the practice room to see you two kissing like this on the ground.

"Hey, we practice here!" he exclaims.

You feel your face get warmer at getting caught and climb out of Harry's lap and up off of the floor. Harry rolls his eyes at Cisco.

“How about a break, Flower? You’re doing so well. I’m impressed.” Harry hands you your water bottle and a towel to wipe the sweat that was glistening on your forehead.

“Thank you.”

“Would you like to have a look in on how my team trains?” You nod at the suggestion, Harry taking your hand and leading you out of the room.

"I wouldn't use the mat on the left," he says to Cisco as you walk away and you catch the younger man’s eyes go wide.

"Harry! But we didn't do anything!"

"He doesn't need to know that," he tells you with an amused smirk. He guides you down the hall and around a corner to a much more extensive training area where several men are paired off against each other.

This is intense.

“Wow... they’re good.”

“I only recruit the best.” You stare in awe at the masterful moves presented before you on the mats. One man holds the other in a headlock, face turning red and unable to breathe. You tug on Harry’s arm.

“Harry, he’s killing him. Aren’t you going to do something?!”

Your boyfriend stays where he is, eyes narrowed at the desperate struggle in front of him. He seems too invested, curious even, at the outcome.

Just when it seems like the brutal end, the man in the submissive hold locks his leg around the other’s while keeping his back curved forward. Bending his knees and turning one hundred and eighty degrees outward, he pulls his attacker’s arm diagonally across his body and throws him down hard on the mat.

“Oomph!”

Harry starts a slow clap and smiles proudly. The rest of the onlookers in the room join in the applause. You clap too, once you shake yourself out of your shocked daze. You had really thought he was going to die…

You take Harry’s hand.

“Let’s go again,” you say eagerly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You and Harry go back to sparring in your training room, with you having found a little boost in your motivation to become better at this.

You manage to pin Harry to the mat a couple of times in a row, but then he starts making it harder and you realize he’s been taking it reasonably easy on you so far. He pins you to the mat once, flips you over so you land on your hands and knees another (although he had been fairly gentle in lowering you to the ground) and you are currently standing in front of him with his arm around your neck, just showing you what could happen if this was a more hostile environment.

“What did I tell you?” he whispers in your ear, “Don’t let me-”

“-get behind you, yeah, I know,” you say exasperatedly, holding onto his forearm which rests in front of your throat.

“Now, how would you get out of this one, Flower? You can’t overpower me,” Harry asks, looking at you intently.

“Well, I’m seriously considering kicking you where it’s going to hurt, but I might hold off on that in case I ever want to have children with you,” you reply with a smirk, turning your head to look at his amused blue eyes. Although something flickers in them at your words… something you can’t quite place. You feel your cheeks warm at the thought that he’s thinking about what you’ve just said. Oh god, no, it’s far too early to be considering that.

“I do appreciate your restraint, Flower,” he says with a chuckle, planting a quick kiss to your cheek. “But if you ever do get in a situation like this, I think it’d be highly effective.”

You use your entire body’s strength to flip Harry to the ground, catching him off-guard in his affectionate state. You detect a series of emotions in his eyes below you - the first being surprise, then clearly proud, then… arousal?

Harry clears his throat, “Well done.”

“Thank you.”

“Think you can do it again?”

You smirk and say, “I think so, yes.”

Harry holds up a finger to you. “Hang on.” He gets up from the floor and leaves the room for maybe two minutes, only to return with a few large men.

You feel your stomach drop at the sight of them and point between yourself and your potential opponents. “You want me… them? Really?”

“It’s not going to be me you’ll find attacking you,” he puts. “Strangers. Big guys. And here they are.” Harry stands behind you with his hands on your shoulders. He leans in to whisper in your ear, “Go get ‘em.”

With a daring, verging on mean, expression, you bend your knees in a ready position. Let’s kick some ass.

Your challenger fake-lunges at you in trying to catch you off guard, but you are far too focused to take the bait. You circle each other, but the man is fast - he grabs your wrist and spins you so that your back is against him. His arm is around your neck, but luckily you’re still able to breathe since you have your hand lodged in between your windpipe and his arm. It’s the same hold Harry had caught you in.

But this time, you don’t hold back.

You ram your elbow into your mock-foe’s gut, knocking him off balance, then take his wrist this time and twist. And the pièce de résistance - a sharp knee to the groin. He bends over in agony, and you start to express your apologies, but the man holds up a hand to say he’s okay.

You are thrilled you did so well, and by the look on Harry’s face, so is he.

“Good, um, match?” you congratulate the man, now sitting. He mumbles something which sounded like, “you too.”

“I think that’s enough for today, Flower.” Harry goes to rub your shoulders. “You were exceptional.”

“Thanks to you.” He grins down at you, hand on your lower back as he ushers you out of the training room, leaving everyone to continue their practice. You notice a tall figure standing at the end of the corridor and squint.

“Harry, who’s that over there?” you ask, pointing at a man you’ve never seen before in the building. He stares into one of the training room windows where two others are battling each other.

Harry recognizes the man in the distance, “That’s James, our new bookkeeper. So far he’s passed our entry tests, but we’ll see how he does on the job.”

You nod. The two of you walk down the hall, moving closer to the new addition to Harry’s team. The man, James, senses this and turns to greet his boss.

“Good evening, Sir,” he says.

“James,” Harry replies, “You’re here late.”

“Thought I’d see how the other half conducts themselves.” James’ eyes move to you. He smiles, then introduces himself.

“I saw you fight a little while ago,” he says, “I’m impressed.”

He was watching us? How did I not notice?

“Thank you,” you say, “It was my first time.”

“Had me fooled.”

“I have a very skilled teacher,” you grin, looking up at Harry, who’s smiling back.

“I have no doubt about that. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He nods to Harry, “Sir.” The man takes his leave, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“He seems nice,” you muse. “Great accent, too.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, eyes glued to the bookkeeper’s back, watching him walk away and into the elevator.

***

The Dark Archer, Malcolm Merlyn, paces the room while his mole stands before him, arms behind his back.

“Do the cops have enough to arrest Wells?”

“Not yet,” the British spy replies, “but they soon will. When they get an anonymous tip telling them to look at his books, they’ll have all they need to tie him to his activities at the docks. And soon, I’ll know where all his bodies are buried. Figuratively and literally.”

“Good.” Malcolm pauses and moves to the window of his office at Merlyn Global Group overlooking the night lights of Star City. “He knows we know about his sweetheart but nothing needs to happen to her. I’ll settle for breaking him by having him only be able to see her from behind a pane of glass.”

The mole waits awkwardly by the mobster’s desk.

“What, you’re still here?” Merlyn catches his spy in the window’s reflexion.

“I just need to know- What has Wells done to you why you’re after him and his empire?”

“Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, but the bastard killed my wife in that explosion. Now get out. And don’t come back until the deed is done.”

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