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shewrites02 · 19 days

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Forgive Me if I break You | Zoro x Reader | Part II

Part I

Trigger warnings: Domestic assault, Alcohol, verbal abuse , physical abuse, graphic depictions of violence. THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT ! MINORS DNI !

*THERE IS A GRAPHIC DEPECTION OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE IN THE FIRST FLASHBACK, IF NOT COMFORTABLE PLEASE SKIP. (the last line is the most important anyway)*

A/N: Thank you for all the support I've gotten at the start of this series, I was so nervous no one would be interested lol. I hope this part lives up to your expectations.

Request: Open

Word count: 5K

Leave a comment if you enjoy :)

The cold of the ice pack stings against your cheek, almost as much as the insults lodged in your throat with nowhere to go. Harshly, you swallow them down, having to reacclimate to the taste of stifled feelings. Almost completely forgotten in those two months.

You're in your shared bedroom, sitting in Lee's lap. Your head lays against his chest. With how tenderly he stroked your hair, you're almost able to imagine care in his touch. Pretend it is the swordsman who caresses you so tenderly. Lee places a soft kiss to your cheek, laying his head against yours.

"I'm sorry, y/n ... I didn't mean to lose my temper." He coos. In the past six months he never came up with any other excuse. Always an apology then an explanation of why it was your fault.

"It's jus’- you embarrassed me in front of our guests, interrupting me like that. You know I hate when you do that- and that fucking swordsman clearly has feelings for you."

Lee is almost completely lost in his rambling, and you think for a moment you will get relief from this puppet show he has forced you into. But the mention of Zoro has you going stiff.

"It's disgusting. a lowlife pirate thinking he can have what is mine. I forbid you from seeing him, do you understand?"

"Yes dear." you respond.

As if the swordsman wanted anything to do with you now. Not after what you've done to him- not after he has seen how pathetic you are. The future world's best swordsman deserves more than someone like you.

"I'm so glad you're home." Lee pivots. "I can't believe I thought you left me-"

Lee lets out a chuckle as though the thought is inconceivable. In spite of your rigidness, the chief takes a deep breath to relax into the headboard. Each chuckle that leaves his mouth tightens your shackles. Reaffirming what you already know- you aren't going anywhere.

"Is that what happened to the countryside?" You ask meekly. Fearful of the answer, but so desperate for the truth. "Did you burn the lemon grove to punish me?"

"... Yes."

Tears swell in your eyes as you pull away to look at the merciless man in front of you. A man who would bathe in your blood with no remorse. So desperate for your obedience he is willing to strip the last memories of your mother away from you as punishment . Did not need proof of your transgressions, his outrage evidence enough to justify his actions.

The chief uses the edge of his thumb to swipe the shallow tears brimming in your eyes.

"We can replant all of them my love, even more, now that you are home. "He lets his thumb sweep over your cheek and lips before he draws away.

Still he wears no semblance of remorse. No guilt or shame for what he's done. For the villagers - his people- homes destroyed in the crossfire of his rage. Couldn't care less about the massive amounts of nature he burned to ash in the name of revenge. Their forfeiture was a consequence of your decision to act so selfishly. It was all your fault-

Why should the chief feel apologetic?

"And the villagers?"

Lee leans in to gently place another kiss to your cheek. As though his kisses can ease the pain of his strikes. Something in you wants to believe he is trying to soothe the pain he inflicted on you. The more nihilistic part of you knows you are only searching for the swordsman's affection in Lee 's actions. Actions that only encompass power and control, that force obedience. Lee rests his forehead head against your head so that his lips are centimeters away from your ear.

"I told you, what I would do if you left- I thought you called my bluff, honey …"

Your mouth went dry at the sight. How- You thought- there was no time to waste musing through all the precautions you thought you followed. Not when your husband stood in front of you disproving their effectiveness.

"What is this?" He asked, pointing over to the bed.

There is an empty duffle bag clutched tight in his left hand- your duffle bag. Its contents scattered on the bed sporadically. A couple thousand berry, a map, exactly two changes of clothes, and a log pose. Everything you needed for a seamless departure.

"I- don't know how it- I-" You were too caught off guard to lie, too unprepared to conjure up an excuse on the fly. Instead you stood fumbling like an idiot trying to figure out how Lee could have possibly just stumbled upon your stash.

"What is it?!" The chief shouted, this time throwing the duffle bag so that it landed at your feet. Before you could answer, he was already stalking toward you. Soon his hands were wrapped around your jaw, squeezing your cheeks. You'd wince in pain if the man had allowed you any wiggle room.

"Were you trying to leave me?" he growls.

"No-" you tried to muffle through your clenched jaw. the word only coming out as a strained cry.

He looked unconvinced. That darkness you're too familiar with started to fill his eyes. It made you begin to question what in you was so naïve enough to think you could escape. Lee moves his hand from your cheek to wrap his arm firmly around your waist. His opposite arm wrapped around your shoulders.

"You want to leave me?" He snarled.

Your head shook ‘no’ so vigorously you almost forgot it was a lie. Just trying to appease the chief, to be spared from his wrath. It did not work. Lee was already starting to walk backward , dragging your body along easily despite your protests. This time you were sure.

He was going to kill you.

Lee easily kicked open the French doors leading to the balcony. Your kicking and screaming, posing as no defense against your husband. He drags you, until your torso is pressed against the balcony railing and he is forcing your head over to look at the drop.

"This is your only way out. If you want to leave me tell me now and I'll throw you over myself.... Say it!"

"I don't want to leave. I don't want to leave." The words repeated from your mouth like an incantation. Barely made out through your cries.

It was enough to make the chief release you, letting your limp body fall to the concrete. He stared down at you with a satisfactory smile before bending at the knees. The gentleness in his touch as he swept the hair out your face is always a precursor to his cruel threats.

"I'll burn this whole village to the ground if you try to leave again. Do you understand me?" He snarls. "Slowly, one by one I will burn every region until you return to me. I will force you to watch everyone, everything , burn because you decided to be fucking selfish."

Another kiss is planted to your cheek before the whisper of Lee's voice commands your attention back to him. A shiver of a sigh escaping your lips at the painful memory.

"I can rebuild their homes... would you like that?"

You nod, letting the tears stream your face. You can feel Lee's smirk against your skin when he kisses the streaks. As though he is giving his approval of your reaction, your emotion. The whites of his fingers dig into your waist to hold you close. His grip does not lessen when you start to sob.

This is how he loved you. Broken. Tattered. Hopeless. An ode to his power, to how much he controlled you.

"Okay, Honey, first thing in the morning."

Water trickles down your chin and onto the sink. You had washed your face six times trying to get the feeling of Lee's hands off you. A futile attempt. His touch would be seared onto you forever.

You trace your cheek while staring into the vanity. There's some relief in not seeing a mark. Probably have your hiatus to thank for Lee's sudden mercy on you. At least you won't be subjected to questions. Trying to conjure up on the spot cover ups come morning, as to not incriminate your husband.

A shaky breath leaves your mouth. You would sob if you weren't so convinced you deserved this. The stinging of your face, the burning of your throat, the stabbing feeling in your chest. This must all be just a fraction of what you imposed on Zoro. The guilt in you leaves little room for other emotions, especially self pity.

How dare you believe a life waited for you beyond these cities' walls. Stupid, stupid, stupid- Foolishly thinking you could escape the future both your father and husband have mapped for you.

You curse the two month departure for giving you a glimpse of how good freedom could feel. For bringing the swordsman into your life when he is so undeserving of the burden you pose. For finally giving you hope just to later rub it in your face.

"Lady Misatori." A small voice quips from the other side of the bathroom door. A knock follows to further force your attention.

A housekeeper stands on the other side. She can barely meet your eyes. A piece of notebook paper is folded into a tight square in her fingers , she is extending it out for you to grab. It trembles in her hands, giving way to the anxiety she is failing to hide.

"Thank you." You mutter. The maid looks relieved to hear her question-free dismissal.

When you open up the note you immediately recognize the handwriting. Had seen scribbled recipes written on loose leaf paper, and napkins enough to note it as Sanji's.

'Mosshead wants to talk- garden 10 minutes .'

The woman's trembling is finally put into perspective. Fearful of what her role in sneaking around the chief could mean for her. Briefly you wonder what the cook could've said to convince the woman to do this. Had his charm really been strong enough to get the woman to forgo all her senses? Part of you wishes to relish seeing Sanji's flirting finally meet with intrigue, but the insistent need to lay eyes on Zoro replaces the thought.

It has you stumbling out of the bathroom as quickly as you could. Forever grateful that in all his control Lee had found it fitting to give you a private bathroom.

It is dark, and wet. Leaves crunch and crumble beneath your feet as you walk the maze-like garden. The unpaved path is bordered with mountainous rose bushes that block your view of any direction, but front and back. The red flowers bloom so fruitfully they encroach your space on the pathway. The weather has gotten considerably cooler in the night, forcing you to pull your cardigan tighter around your shoulders. Regretting that the rush had made you grab the first thing with sleeves you saw.

A sigh leaves your lips exhaustedly. Surely the cook was mistaken. There was no sign of the swordsman anywhere. Maybe he had changed his mind about wanting to talk. Decided the risk isn't worth the reward. That you aren't worth the breath-

You hit an intersection on the path, and before you have the opportunity to turn left, there is a tight grasp around your arm. The force pulls you back, nestling you into the bushes behind you as you still. Once you gain your composure and are able to open your eyes, you’re met with the swordsman.

His left hand is wrapped firmly around your right arm, his other rest in the bush beside your head. Zoro has you caged. Trapped with nowhere to run. No place to hide. No escape.

"Husband?" He fumed. "Have you just been fucking around with me?"

"Zoro..." You plead, reaching out to grasp his cheek. He does not let you. Releases his hold on you to take a step back before your fingers land on him. The look on his face seethes of betrayal.

"Answer me!" The pirate barks. You flinch at the tone of his words, your eyes shutting closed. It takes a minute to gather yourself. You have never heard Zoro's voice void of any affection.

You swallow your own tears . Shove down your discomfort to accept accountability for your actions. Even if all you want to do is hold the swordsman once more. Hear his heart thump in his chest. Hear him say he loves you.

"I should have told you. I am so sorry I hurt you Zoro. "

The pirate scoffs, clearly not satisfied with your answer. He is shaking his head in disbelief, eyes burrowing into yours.

"You lied to me. You told me you loved m-"

"I Promise Zoro, I love you. I love you so much. so much." You beseech.

The swordsman seems even more tortured by your testament. His hands find his skull to dig his fingers into his scalp. As if trying to ground himself for only a moment at the reeling thoughts.

"Does he know that? That you love me, that you're mine?"

When you don't answer the frustration builds in the swordsman. He lets out a pained laugh that morphs into more of a choke. His expression is filled with disbelief.

"You're not mine." He speaks as if he is speaking to himself. "You're his."

"That is who you want to spend the rest of your life with? He talks to you like shit- the dirt beneath his shoes and you smile through the whole thing. The man who thinks you're his accessory- That is the man you love?"

Zoro badgers you. Moving his tongue as piercingly swift as you're sure, he can wield his swords.

"I do not love that man." You choke.

"Then why?" The swordsman shouts. His exclamation wakes the small birds that have chosen the garden as their resting place. The sounds of their wings flapping away from the conflict fills the air. "Y/n ... why are you doing this to me?"

There is a frailness to his voice you don't recognize. Something so breakable about the way he utters your name. In the two months you had spent with Zoro you had never seen him show this much emotion.

"Zoro, if I could stay on the beach with you forever... I would. But I can't. I have people who need me-"

"I need you!" He professes, throwing his arms in the air.

The way that Zoro bares his scars to you , when you could not do the same in return physically pains you. You force down the tears that dare to surface at his confession. Who were you to be hurt in a situation you hand crafted? To cry in the presence of a man who held his broken heart in his hands with hopes, you would fix it.

There's an immense sadness in your restraint, how you're able to still your body though every bone in you wants to wrap around him. Reciprocate all the comfort Zoro so willingly gives to you. But this is not the beach-

"I'm so sorry Zoro. I'm so sorry." Your eyes shift to the ground. The tears are so much harder to fight off when you can see the confusion under his saddened expression.

Zoro cups your cheeks in his hands and for a fleeting moment there is no anger. There are only kisses shared under the stars, gasps fallen onto the sand, words of endearment lost to the wind. Love. For a second Zoro stares at you and there is only love.

"I don't want apologizes- " There's a shake in his breath. " I want you to tell me why I have to watch another man touch you. Why he gets to hold you tonight instead of me. Tell me why you keep saying you love me, but you're going home to another man. Tell me the fucking truth!"

Even in his anger you can hear the worry in the pirate's voice. It takes you by surprise. Maybe malice hasn't taken up the space of affection in Zoro's heart after all. Maybe in all his poking and prodding Lee had only brought concern out of the first mate. The sweet sentiment physically aches. You turn your head, breaking free from his grasp.

"Leave Zoro- take your crewmates and go. I'm only going to hurt you if you stay, so please- go."

"... Is he why you need the sun to feel free?"

You're caught off guard by the swordsman's questions. Don't expect to hear your words echoed from his mouth. "Free". You could almost laugh hearing the word now. Freedom? What did you know about freedom? Always a pawn for someone else's will, your own desires to be placed on a shelf and expectantly forgotten. This castle has always been your prison.

"I'll make sure you'd feel the sun everyday. I will drag it out the sky and place it in your hands if it will make you smile. I'll never trap you. I love you. Please- don't leave me." He begs.

Your body is moving on its own again, this time manipulated by the voice of the swordsman. Unsure of what has come over you, you're reaching out for Zoro, pulling him in closer. You know that you shouldn't. Especially not here and not now. But it does not stop you from standing on your tiptoes to press your lips into his.

The intention was for a quick kiss, just one last time to feel Zoro's lips on yours, but it's difficult not to savor the moment. To not search for another life, one where you could be together, in his mouth. The same desperation is displayed in the way Zoro grasps you. Tight. One hand tangled in your hair while the other on your waist. As if he could hold you tight enough to stay. He groans in displeasure why you finally pull away from him.

"Go Zoro. I'm only going to break you."

The sun has risen just enough to illuminate the desolate field. The early morning is still shying away from pushing out the darkness of night completely. You woke early enough to see Lee still had not returned home. Off doing something you are sure, is none of your business.

You took the opportunity to sneak out to what used to be the lemon grove. Tears stream your face while you wonder what pushed you out here. What exactly it is that you're hoping to find amongst the ash.

The memories of your mother you can't get back? Pieces of the wooden swing you used to sit on in the summer? Evidence it was truly necessary to leave the swordsman in your past?

It's hard to focus on all you've lost when staring at the pile of rubble that is the villagers' homes. Their whole lives destroyed at a whim. You did this to them. Had you stayed home and behaved no one, not even the swordsman, would be in this situation.

"Wanna tell me what you're looking for?"

The whisper behind you sounds so familiar. There is a part of you that does not want to turn around, thinks it's better off not knowing who the voice belongs to. A bigger part of you itches with a need to know.

"Zoro."

"Maybe I can help you find it." There's a crooked smirk on his lips.

It's involuntary, the way your heart is instantly soothed at his arrival. Something it must have learned on its own while on the beach. You have to fight not to jump into his arms. Draw him into you with the wish to feel his lips again.

" I thought I told you to leave..." you mutter.

"You did." The pirate agrees. Zoro moves from behind you, so you no longer have to crane your neck to look at him. He reaches to take your hand in his. His thumb traces the back of your hand, his touch so soft you almost don't feel it.

"You're still here."

"You may have authority in this village, but the only person I take orders from is Luffy." He lets out a laugh.

The sound forces your brows to furrow to the center of your face. Where was his anger? His disappointment? Why wasn't he yelling at you? The last conversation you had with the swordsman had not gone the best. This warm welcome is the farthest reception you expected to receive.

"What?" He asks, reaching out to smooth the wrinkles your frown causes. You're surprised at the way you flinch when his fingertips touch your forehead, a reaction you hadn't had in at least a month.

Had it really only taken one night with Lee to erase all your expectations of being lovingly touched?

You can see Zoro's happy exterior waiver for just a moment at your knee jerk reaction. Still he does not draw away his fingers. Just trails them down so he can stroke your cheek. Still offering you a kind smile.

"Stop Zo..." You're taking a step away before you can give into him. Pulling your hand away to further the distance. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see the lemon grove..." He uses the tip of his boot to kick at a burned shingle on the ground. "So much for that."

"Oh? You made it here all on your own?" In spite of your sorrows you laugh. "You didn't get lost?"

Zoro glares at you, his eyebrows raised to his temples. You suspect he hadn't expected you to join in on his light heartedness.

"I had to ask someone in the town square..." He sheepishly admits drawing an even more obnoxious laugh for your throat.

"Why were you looking for the lemon grove?"

"You don't remember?" He asks.

Even in your best memories of the beach, you never liked sand. The way it intrusively stuck to you, creeping its way into every nook and cranny made your skin crawl, but this beach was the expectation. You loved everything about this beach.

"Tell me something else." Zoro requests. His voice was softer than before- meeker after your supposed rejection.

You were still wrapped firmly in the swordsman arms, your head on his chest. Zoro's head had returned to rest on top of yours. A brisk breeze forced you closer to Zoro in search of warmth, the thin blanket almost whisked away at the gust. The sight drew a laugh from the pirate.

"Where would you be right now if you were home?"

The only location you could definitely think of was underneath the chief's thumb, but that surely couldn't be the answer the swordsman was looking for. It was hard to think of places in your village that still brought you joy. Places that hadn't been corrupted in the transition of power from your father to Lee.

"The lemon grove." You blurted out the second it came to you. There was a cheesy grin on your face while you reminisced. A grin that is met with a full blown smile from Zoro once he sees your joy. He leaned down to plant a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw.

"Yeah? Why is that your favorite place?" His breath brushed against your neck.

"My mom used to take me there, and we would have picnics in the summer. There's this huge swing we'd sit on. It's my favorite place in the whole world."

"All that you've seen of it?" Zoro jokes. He caught your wrist when you went to slap his chest. Bringing your hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles. He rubbed his finger back and forth over yours after planting one last kiss to your cheek.

"Maybe you can show it to me? When we get you home?"

Lee had never in the six months you'd been married bothered to visit the lemon grove. Just knew it was a sacred space for you , a memento to your mother. This was the first time you're grateful for that. That in the chief's vast kingdom there could still be a place that could be just Zoro and yours.

"I would love that Zo."

You smiled before craning your neck to plant a kiss on his lips.

"I wanted to see your favorite place." Zoro admits once he sees you remember. "I thought it might give me some insight."

"Insight?" You parrot in confusion.

"You're hiding something from me." Zoro states plainly, drawing your eyes to him.

"You found out I'm married, what else can I be hiding Zoro?" Your voice trembles with exhaustion.

The swordsman narrows his eyes as he looks you over. That fury, and fire previously seen in the garden is long gone . All that remains is this inquisitive stare.

"I don't know, but you are... I wish you would let me help you."

"Help me-" There is a feigned smile painted on your lips. How could a pirate of the new world be so... heartening. Surely the horrors he has seen, far exceed the small misfortunes of your life.

"Zoro. I already told you to go. "

"If you looked at me and told me you didn't mean any of it I would've left. Sailed away and tried for the rest of my life never to think of you again, but you didn't. You told me you love me-"

"I do."

Zoro plops down onto the ash filled ground. He crosses his arms against his chest, and stares out at the rubble.

"Then I'm not leaving. Until you tell me what's going on, what's actually happening, I'm not going anywhere."

The way your heart swells at his proclamation is treacherous. Allowing yourself to be swooned by actions that could very well get the both of you executed. You almost think it's sweet, if it wasn't so stupid.

"Why do you care? Zoro I hurt you, why are you still chasing me?"

"... because I meant it when I said I love you. And I know you meant it too."

"You deserve someone better than me Zoro. Someone who won't hold you back, someone who won't hurt you, someone worthy of standing next to the world's strongest swordsman."

"I don't care what you think I deserve. That's not a decision for you to make." Zoro snaps.

"Zoro... " You sigh exasperatedly at his rebuttal. "Do you really think I won't hold you back? That you will still become the world's strongest swordsman if I'm standing next to you?"

"I don't think I will become the world's strongest swordsman if you aren't standing next to me."

There's a sharp breath forced into your lungs at his confession. How could he say that with such certainty. It has only been two months. The two of you should be able to forget each other. Move on as if none of this happened- but Zoro stands before you stating he doesn't know if his dream will come true without you. A dream he has been chasing his entire life. A dream you've only come privy to in the last 60 days.

"Tell me you don't love me- I'll go. If you look me in my eyes right now and say it, I'll leave." He challenges.

You search for the words on your tongue, though you cannot find them. No parts of you willing, or wanting to lie to the swordsman.

"I can't."

Zoro has kept his promise. The strawhat crew joining you and your husband for breakfast, lunch, and now dinner going on the third day in a row. You wonder what the pirate is waiting for? A confession? An outcry for help? Don't know what actions would be satisfactory enough to get him to sail away.

In all of those days Zoro has sat in that same seat, to the right of you at every meal. Some meals he would lightly brush his knees back and forth against yours. At others he would 'accidentally' knock his napkin off the table so he could pinch your thighs. In spite of your best efforts to forget the swordsman exists, he seems all too insistent on making his presence known.

"So Luffy, when do you think you and your crew will be leaving?" Lee asks. His voice does well to mask the irritation you can pin in the twitch of his eye. "We'd love to send you all off with a ball."

You suspect Lee's urging of the Strawhats' departure correlates to his growing suspicion of the swordsman. The chief may be many things, but naïve has never been one of them. He takes note of the way Zoro's eye never leaves you, regardless of whoever is speaking. How the swordsman just couldn't be bothered to feign interest whenever the chief commands the room. You had spent every one of these past nights disavowing your feelings for the swordsman.

"We're thinking soon- Wednesday at the latest." Nami answers before her captain has the opportunity to. He seems to wear a confused look that is soon dissipated by her scowl.

Two days.

Although you had trained yourself not to go looking for the swordsman, your eyes immediately fall onto him at the navigator's words. Your concern is met with raised bows, almost a silent challenge from the pirate.

Did he expect you to profess your love there at the dinner table? To look at your husband and gloat in the love you've been able to find? Neither are options being the choice was not yours. Lee has done a great job in ensuring you did not have any choices.

"Oh, I'll get the staff on preparations immediately. We will hold the ball tomorrow." Lee's smile is filled with pleasure.

His wife had returned home, and soon the guests he had been performing for would be on their way. Everything is on the road to being back to normal. Exactly how you remembered it. The thought sends a shiver down your body.

"Maybe y/n can take us to the shop to find a dress?" Robin suggests.

Lee is apprehensive about letting you go. Obvious from the way his smile falters at the archeologists suggestion. But he never could deny a pretty woman. Begrudgingly he agrees.

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A/N: Part three is in the works , I'm hoping to not go more than a week between chapters, but please don't hold me to that. The ADHD will make me a liar. Thank you to all the beautiful people who care about my work, and have so many kind words.

Tag List: @turtletaubwrites @jinjen @sanzu-clinic @heyauntieeee @honeybuzzzzzz @nothing-but-brass

#one piece #zoro roronoa #ronoroa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #zoro roronoa x y/n #roronoa zoro x reader #forgive me if i break you

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writersdrug · 2 months

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Ghost x Reader x Konig: I Don't Need You (Ch. 10)

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Summary: Thankfully, things have been resolved between you and Konig. You start to settle in more with your team, and Roze shares a few thoughts with you over a smoke. The memories are still there, but just like the winter around you, they're cold and unwelcoming. You and Konig open up to each other a bit more, more than you had ever opened up to anyone.

WARNINGS: implications of masturbation, cursing, angst (if you squint?), plot building, graphic depictions of animal torture and death (PLEASE CONSIDER ALL WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS, I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME thank you kindly)

Notes: Yes! Hello! I exist!! I've been in a slump, and I really do apologize for that. Many of you have been very patient with me and I love and appreciate you all for it! I had to intake as much CoD literature as I could in the past few weeks to get me motivated, which helped a LOT (not to mention I discovered no fewer than ten works that currently have a hold on my heart). But it's here! I forced myself to write over half of the following chapter so that it would be less daunting to finish up. I also plan to make a wip post for yall, just to share will everyone what goes on in my rat brain.

This was edited at 3 am (god it's 4 am now, i just saw that), so if there are any grammatical or spelling errors you have my full consent to call me out on it! Please enjoy!

(sidenote, I completely didn't research how old you need to be to become a navy SEAL, so reader's age is a bit inaccurate in regards to that. pls ignore lol)

(last sidenote then you can read, does anyone have tips for customizing the layout of their fics? I see so many cool ways to style the font and cute banners and errything but I have no idea how nor what to do)

- - - -

The sky hung low with a blanket of gray. It looked like it was about to snow, although the threat was soon dismissed when noon came around and there wasn’t a single flake. The air was cold and dry, forcing me to zip my jacket up all the way and tuck my nose into the collar. I blew steady, warm breaths into my jacket and tried to soak up the heat into my bones.

It was as if the incident had never happened.

Konig and I ended up driving to the liquor store, which was a blessing, since I had run out of Yeungling (and I didn’t understand enough Turkish to converse with the clerk, nor did I have any of the appropriate money – Konig was graced with both of those necessities). We talked like there had never been a week and a half of silence between us. He talked about how he had nearly forced Ridgeback to drag me out of my room and into the common area, “… but it would have been too early for that.” He commented. That, and I would have rather died.

So life went on as normal: dreary, aside from shooting people and getting shot at. Nonetheless, it was normal, and there was a peace to be found in that.

I leaned against the building to the training room, with Roze to my left. I had intended to come out and soak up whatever natural light I could – when I saw her standing there, possibly trying to do the same, I felt the instinct to play it off as if I was just leaving the building. But she cocked her head in a greeting, and a part of me took an interest in her worry-free aura. Out of everyone, she always seemed to be the least-stressed person in the room, even in the middle of a warzone. It was the balm to my anxious mind that I never knew I needed, but gratefully stood by.

We remained together in a comfortable silence (one I would most definitely would not have been comfortable with a while ago), staring ahead, watching the indecisiveness of the brooding clouds above. I wondered what the rest of the world was doing – if they might have been as calm and carefree as us, or if they were in some kind of peril, and the horrors of it were blocked out by the clouds.

I was drawn back to the present when I heard the click click click of Roze’s lighter. I turned my head and watched as she shielded the weak flame from the wind, lighting the cigarette that hung loosely from her lips.

“You smoke?” I asked.

“Sure do.” She replied nonchalantly. “Want one?” she extended her pack of cigarettes towards me.

I glanced at the box, feeling a sour taste in my mouth.

I lay on my stomach, my muscles still twitching and shaking as I tried to even out my breaths. Ghost had tossed a thin blanket over my lower half. I hadn’t even moved from the position he had ruthlessly fucked me in – my body ached too much to even try, and my mind was still recovering from the past hour.

I watch Ghost as he reclined next to me, pushing the bottom of his mask up to place a cigarette between his lips. It was the first time I had seen any part of his face all day. He grabbed his lighter from the pocket of his pants that were discarded on the floor, lighting the end of the cigarette and inhaling. He tossed the lighter back down to the floor as he tilted his head back, exhaling a long stream of smoke. I watched it swirl in the lamplight, settling in a cloud around us. He continued puffing, staring at the wall across from the bed as I lay beside him, although I felt worlds away from him.

He'd started off the night with a mountain of stress from a mission gone sideways. Instead of the usual slow build, where he would run his hands under my shirt and kiss my lips slowly and tenderly – he had walked in and immediately demanded I remove my clothes while he began stripping out of his. I had assumed tonight was going to be a passionate one, until he threw me onto my stomach and shoved my face into the pillows. It wasn’t the first time he’d been rough with me, but it wasn’t just rough – it felt dehumanizing. An hour of constant, merciless thrusts, and a hand around my neck that restricted both my blood flow and my oxygen, and I had fallen into a state of shock.

But, in the end, I was happy to be caged in by him again.

I was happy.

He turned his eyes towards me, seeming to sense that something was off. He exhaled another puff of smoke. “Everythin’ alright?” he asked, completely void of any genuine concern.

I met his eyes with my own. I felt like I shouldn’t have to answer the question, and it stirred up a bitterness in me. But I didn’t feel like arguing with him, and I certainly didn’t want him to leave – so I nodded my head, slowly blinking my eyes. “Just tired.”

He hummed and faced the wall again. He brought one of his knees up and rested his arm against it. “Want a smoke?” he asked, still looking away.

I shook my head as much as the pillow beneath me would allow. “No.” I replied.

He sighed disappointedly. Apparently, my lack of enthusiasm after being used like an old fucktoy was irking him.

To be fair, I never spoke up about how I felt.

He grunted and rose from his position, snuffing out his cigarette in the ashtray by my bed, and picking up his clothes and pulling them on. My heart ached slightly as I watched him slide his shirt over his torso. I felt the threat of tears sting in my eyes as I wished his hands were holding me instead, keeping me warm and grounded. He pulled his jeans on and fastened them, buckling his belt rather quickly; and all while he faced away from me.

“Well, I know you probably need some alone time.” He muttered, sliding the skull attachment over his mask. “So I’ll get going. I’ll see you around.”

He grabbed his tactical vest and jacket and slung them over his shoulder. He paused by the door. “Thanks for tonight.” He mumbled, before finally leaving the room and softly closing the door behind him.

My eyes lingered on the ashtray with the half-smoked cigarette. A thin trail of smoke plumed into the air – I wanted to throw the tray across the room and shatter it. But it was Ghost’s, so I couldn’t; I couldn’t regardless, because it was a piece of him that remained with me, even when he left.

That, and the smell of smoke.

“Nah, I’m good.” I replied, facing the cold, empty base ahead of me.

“Good.” She said, pinching the cigarette and blowing a stream of smoke. “Stay that way. Did you know these bastards give you cancer?”

I chuckled into the collar of my jacket. “Do they, now?”

She hummed affirmatively, sucking another breath in through the cancerous bastard. “Who would’ve thought…”

We fell back into silence. I continued watching the stillness of the base, trying to see if the sky would follow through with its promise to fall. Now that my free time wasn’t spent holed up in my room, it somehow felt like there were fewer ways to spend it. With another mission on the horizon – a simple recon, yet dauntingly close to a heavily-guarded compound – no one was out and about when they usually were. Finding Roze outside and seemingly not worried was usual, however, and a warm sight, compared to how the rest of the team was on edge. Even Askel seemed grumpier than most days.

I hadn’t been seeking out someone to spend time with, no… that I would never do (or admit). But talking to a familiar face provided a comfort I had grown to need over the past couple of months. And, frankly, I felt like Konig might be getting tired of how much I ran to him when I craved social interaction. Though he had never said anything about it, I felt like I needed to branch out to other team members than just my Colonel. One might think I was trying to kiss his ass (I knew the accusation had already crossed Juno’s mind, but the young soldier was good at holding his tongue – when Konig was around, at least).

“You ever think about how ‘little girl’ you would react to this?” Roze asked, and I turned to face her. She had her nose scrunched, and a tinge of pink dusted over her cold cheeks. “Guns, war, no playdates or days at the beach…”

I sighed. “Probably would have cried.” I replied, allowing my freezing nose to poke over the collar of my jacket. “Especially if I had known that being a princess now adays meant spending more time worrying about becoming a hostage than anything else.”

Roze chuckled. “It’s a good thing we didn’t know then.” Her face was mostly blank, but I thought I noticed a hint of bitterness in the way her gaze landed on the ground. I watched her flick her cigarette with a bit more aggression than usual. “I would’ve tried to convince my entire family to run away to Scotland, live in hiding and pretend the rest of the world was a dream.”

“Scotland?” I asked. Soap’s cocky grin and heavy Scottish accent stirred in my mind, but it felt like nothing more than a small cloud of dust.

“Yeah – heard it’s fucking gorgeous over there.” She waved her cigarette in no particular direction. “Now, I don’t know how peaceful it is in terms of politics and war, but it’s pretty spacious. Simple, too. I feel like if I talked about throwing all my shit away and becoming a fisherman for a living, I wouldn’t get people trying to talk me out of it like I would in the States.” She took another drag, and laughed out the smoke.

“Fisherman?”

“Yeah.” She chuckled, a hardened smile gracing her lips. “I don’t know why it sounds so appealing… it just does.”

I hummed and looked back out at the compound. I wondered about Roze’s past; she had never said or done anything to indicate that it was particularly rough, as it was for the majority of us (us – I still wasn’t used to including myself, but it was becoming more of a habit each time), but the weariness in her eyes when she spoke about her younger self made me question what that girl had been through. Maybe it was just nostalgia. A yen for simpler times. Roze seemed to appreciate the simple things in life.

“You know Askel goes ice fishing?” she said suddenly.

I smiled underneath my jacket. “Seems like something he would do.”

“Every winter.” She continued. She dropped her cigarette to the floor and crushed it into the gravel. “He takes about three weeks of leave, if we’re lucky enough to get it, and goes to Norway. Sits on a frozen lake for hours a day, just waiting for a fish.”

“You make it sound like he’s never caught one.” I point out, my eyes lingering on the cigarette.

She shrugged her shoulders. “So does he. Every time I ask him what he caught, he just laughs. Says he’s never expects to get a bite.”

I closed my eyes and hummed in response. It was easy to picture the scene – Askel, sitting on a thick layer of ice, nursing the hoppy beers that he and Konig loved so much and waiting for a fish to bite. I wondered if he even bothered to reel the line in when he did catch something. Or if he even went fishing at all. Maybe he just went out there to get a sense of peace, to pretend that war and death didn’t exist.

The motion of thick, heavy snowflakes falling from the sky caught my attention. They landed on the skin of my nose, resisting the warmth for a few moments, before they eventually melted into trickles of water. A sudden gust of wind blew a flurry of them towards us, making the both of us flinch.

Maybe fishing doesn’t sound too bad.

- - - -

The shooting range was mostly silent, save for the occasional conversation between me and Konig. The lights were low, easily illuminating the gunpowder and dust swirling in the air. Konig and I stared at the paper target as we analyzed my shots. A few hit dead center, although most of them were clustered around the lower left of the bullseye. My lips were pursed into a scowl as I glared at my sub-par aim – it wasn’t typically so awful, but of course it was while Konig had been watching.

“Eh, are you sure you didn’t lie on your paperwork about being a sniper?” Konig asked as he stood behind my left shoulder, taking the target from my hands and looking at it closely. “You weren’t even ten yards from it. This is very poor marksmanship.”

I scowled in embarrassment, taking my pistol to the counter and pulling out the mag. “Rough day.” I answered bluntly as I started packing more bullets into the small compartment. It wasn’t a lie – I had barely gotten any sleep the night before. I was in the middle of a rather interesting dream involving me and Ghost, until my alarm woke me up before anything of importance happened.

“Very bad…” he mumbled to himself. I clicked my tongue in annoyance.

“Y’know…” I grumbled, loading the mag back into the gun and shoving it in my holster, “I don’t like stereotyping, but the boot really does fit you.” I walked past him and out into the hallway, not waiting for him to follow.

“Hmm?” he made an indignant noise, momentarily stuck in his spot, before he came jogging after me. “What does that mean? What stereotype?”

I chuckled. “Haven’t you ever how Germans are extremely blunt?” I asked.

“Austrian.” He retorted. “Do I need to brand that onto my face for you?”

“Wouldn’t do me much good, with the mask ‘n all.” I replied.

He laughed – rather snorted, as usual – “Ah, you’re right. Maybe I am blunt – just as much as you are defensive.”

I stopped at the end of the hall, right in front of the exit. “Defe-“ I turned on my heel to scowl at him. “I am not defensive! Where did you get that idea?!”

He stopped behind me, his eyes widening. He gestured an open palm in my direction. “This.”

I huffed, turning back around to punch the door open. The snow from earlier that day had ceased, blanketing the base in a thin layer of white. The moon seemed that much brighter against the crystalized ground, and the yellow lights scattered across the compound made parts of the snow look like sandy dunes. My nose tingled from the nip of the chilly air, and I pulled my jacket tighter around my body as the door fell shut behind me and Konig.

“Well, what am I supposed to say when you call me defensive?”

“You could agree.”

“But I don’t.”

“Which proves my point.”

I huffed in frustration, despite the smirk curling on the edges of my lips. “So, either I have to agree with you, whether I really do or don’t, or you’ve corralled me into a paradox.”

I can practically hear the gears turning in his head. “A what?”

“A paradox, like a – y’know, never mind. It’s too difficult to explain.” I let him fall in step next to me, although he was the one who needed to slow down to match my pace. “We can just agree to disagree, how’s that?”

“Agreed.” He nodded, and I chuckled. “It won’t change the fact that I’m right, you know.” He added.

I bit my lip and tried to keep my smile from growing ridiculously larger. I looked up at him and patted his shoulder – he looked down at me, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled back. A stray, reddish-brown curl poked through the side of his balaclava, and I found the miniscule detail warming my heart through the cold air. He felt real, and in this moment, too human for this kind of life.

“Why did you choose the military?” I asked, turning back to look at the ground as we walked.

He hummed. “Isn’t that every boy’s dream?”

“Well, yes – but most of the time, it never becomes more than that.” I responded.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, mimicking my own position. “I’m not really sure what made me push so much for it. I almost didn’t make it, for obvious reasons.”

I chuckled. “Size does matter, huh?”

He looked down at me with a deadpan gaze, one that I refused to meet. “It almost did, in a bad way. And I almost backed out before they could be the ones to turn me away. But, of course, they knew they would find some use for my size – so they took me in.”

“And what did they do with you?” I asked, looking back at him.

“A ‘human battering ram,’ as my superiors had so nicely called it.” He framed the description with his hands in the air, as if it had been written on a plaque. I laughed and looked back down at my feet.

“Seriously?” I asked. “So they just had you breaking down doors, and then what?”

Konig laughed with me. “Well, I still had a gun, so I was able to shoot, thank goodness. And I had a bit more gear so I wouldn’t break my bones against the doors – I still dislocated my shoulder a few times, however…” he rolled his left shoulder, as if there was still a lingering pain from how often he had thrown himself at doors. “It was actually during a period of recovery when I proved that I could still be a sniper. My shoulder was still healing, so I had to give up being a battering ram for a while. I was sat with Horangi on the side of the mountain to give him cover. Of course, he was ambushed – he had to fight the Arschgiege right when we were given the order to shoot, so I had to take position behind the gun.” I noticed that his chest was puffed out a bit from pride. “That really knocked their pants off.”

I chuckled, choosing to ignore the inaccuracy of his phrase. “Did it now?”

“It did.” He replied, then looked at the ground. “For a moment. I got a good earful for overstepping boundaries that day, but it’s what ultimately landed me here – so I’m grateful for it.”

I nodded and hummed. “What was Horangi picked for?”

Konig shrugged, his hands now back in his pockets. “He never said what he and Commander had spoken about in his office. But, even if he wasn’t chosen – I like to think we come as a package. If I go, he goes, if he doesn’t, I don’t.”

I felt my heart warm at his words. The memory of how Juno had described Konig couldn’t be farther from my mind. It almost felt like I was talking to someone I briefly crossed paths with in my youth – not a war criminal, not the bloody and stiff soldier who had stepped onto the heli after our first mission. I envied his ability to separate his work stress from the time he had in between missions.

“Why did you decide to join?” He asked, catching me off guard.

It was only fair that I opened up to him, since he was so willing to do the same. Always the one to go first, too. But I had to be careful. I didn’t want this to turn into a pity party, and I didn’t want to dig anything up that I had worked so hard to bury deep beneath my subconscious.

“I was… a weird kid. Like you.” I said, making Konig scoff and roll his eyes. “Looking back now, I hate my younger self. I was so sensitive to what people thought about me, and I just wanted to be independent and strong. I wanted to be a ‘different girl.’” I gritted out the words that left a sour taste in my mouth. “I think I just wanted attention at first – of course, when I heard how everyone said they hated how annoying teenage girls were, and how gullible and weak they were, it just – it made me change. I wanted to prove everyone wrong, it wasn’t just about being different anymore. So, as soon as I turned old enough, I enlisted. Didn’t get to Navy SEAL right away, of course… but I joined every program I was allowed in until I could submit my application.”

I sighed, then chuckled. “Thought my family would say they were proud, that I was successful, that I was doing a good job… they were just angry. Said I was throwing my life away for business that didn’t involve our country.” I opened my mouth to say more, but I ended up scoffing and closing it once again. I felt like I had shared enough.

I looked at Konig, expecting him to acknowledge what I said. “That’s how the story goes…” he would say. But, when I met his gaze, I only saw concern. His brow was creased with what I imagined was pity, and my stomach churned. It was the exact opposite of the reaction I had hoped for. I only wanted to share stories with him, and now it was… this.

“I think you made the right choices.” He said, and I looked away.

“You don’t need to make me feel better, Konig. I appreciate it, but-“

“I’m not just trying to make you feel better.” He said, his accent slightly thicker from his exasperation. “You’re good at what you do. Your parents are just probably worried for you, and they don’t know how to show it.”

I bit down on my tongue, my eyes settling on the building in front of us with a hard expression. If only.

“Maybe that’s it.” I muttered, hoping he would drop the subject. He seemed to understand, and turned to look ahead with a disappointed sigh. My heart sank the tiniest bit at the sound, and I internally scolded myself. Still a people-pleaser, apparently.

We continued walking in silence, the buzz of the lights above us mimicking the static of a communication system that had been severed in a time where it was needed most. The edge of the barracks appeared into our view, just around the corner of the arsenal sheds that stood between us and our destination. I continued to stare at the ground, pretending to watch my steps and try to not slip on the snowy asphalt. My heart twisted with each second of silence that sat thickly between us. It wasn’t technically a fight, but somehow, it felt worse. It felt like the first time I had pissed him off, the first time we had spoken to each other – and god, did I already hate myself for the way I had acted towards him during those first few weeks. I didn’t want to drive another wedge between us, not after the ones that had already been worked back out.

I exhaled heavily through my nose. “Sorry.” I mumbled quietly, but loud enough that I knew it reached his ears. “Sensitive topics.”

He flitted his eyes in my direction, but didn’t bother to move his head. He sighed, and I nearly jolted when I felt his wide hand on my upper back. It rubbed back and forth, and it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that he was comforting me. Or, trying to, at least.

“I know.” He said, and his hand rested on my shoulder. “I’m sorry for pushing you.”

I didn’t know how to respond. I was stuck on the feeling of the roughness of his palm, which I could gleam through the fabric of my jacket. How his fingers squeezed gently and released twice. There was no hidden meaning, no forced contact or any kind of attempt to put context into the touch. It was… natural. Warm, comforting, and it spoke a thousand words that I wouldn’t have been able to stomach if he had said them. It broke past my self-hatred and walls of ‘don’t be weak’ that I would have used as my defense if he had tried to verbally convey any sort of consolation. It was the first time I didn’t feel awkward about being so close to him, let alone when he was touching me. I wondered if he did this on purpose, or if he had no idea what he was doing at all.

I let myself stand nearer to him, almost tucked under his arm. I looked up and smiled as genuinely as I could – not that it was hard for me, but because I wanted to make sure that he really knew how much I appreciated the gesture. Although, if he knew that this simple act of comfort would pierce through my outer shell, was it really necessary?

“Thank you, Konig.” I said.

He looked down at me and smiled. That damn smile. I wondered how much more refreshing it would be when he wasn’t wearing his mask. It was already too much for my soul to bear when it was just the crinkling in his eyes that I could see.

“Anytime, Bonnie.” He replied, patting my shoulder before tucking his hand back into his pocket. I grieved minimally at the loss of the touch, but I was happy for what it was. “And I mean it. Anytime you need to talk – or not talk, and do that empty staring that you do – just come find me.”

I quirked an eyebrow in his direction. “Anytime?” I asked amusedly.

“Mhm!” Konig replied, his eyes on the ground as he watched his steps. Then, the realization hit him, and his eyes went wide with panic. “Oh- well, eh- I guess, not anytime-“

“You gonna tell me when?” I joked, and he laughed. “You need an open/closed sign on your door.” I jogged ahead, trying to reach the door to the barracks before he did.

“How about this?” he called out, and I could hear the grin behind his mask. “I’ll nail a chalkboard to my door, and if I’m busy, I’ll draw a stick guy jerking off in his bed!”

My cheeks burned after I heard him. “No!” I shrieked, laughing nervously. “You’ll traumatize Juno!” I quickly tried to pin this on someone other than me.

“Juno, hah?” Konig teased, and I had half a mind to run into the building and leave him on the quad. “I don’t care about him. Kid needs to be traumatized.”

I laughed and threw my head back, turning the corner around the arsenal shed. “That’s not very-“

Immediately, my heart leapt into my throat, and I gasped. Konig nearly ran into my back as he skidded to a halt.

Sick, sick, what the fuck, I feel sick-

“Stimmt etwas nicht?” he asked, concerned. “What- oh, scheisse-“

We both stared at the bird on the ground. A crow from the looks of it, though it was hard to even decipher that it was a bird in the first place, due to the state it was in. Its belly had been cut open, entrails and bloody bits pulled from the abdomen and strewn to either side of the bird. Its wings were stretched to their full capacity and most likely beyond it, crushed and missing a large number of feathers. Both of the legs appeared to have been ripped off and tossed to the left of the crow. Its beak was the worst of it all: pried open, the jaw probably broken from how wide it was spread. A haunting look of terror in the crow’s red, glossy eyes made a violent shiver run up my spine.

I exhaled shakily, my eyes still glued to the horror. “Holy shit – what the-“

Konig quickly walked around me and knelt in front of the crow. I shifted to look over his shoulder, still fearfully curious, but he held a hand out behind him, urging me to stay in place. With his other hand, he pulled at one of the bird’s wings, stiff and heavy. Whether it was frozen from the cold, or this was the effects from rigor mortis, I couldn’t tell.

“How – did a fucking fox do that?!” I asked. Are there even foxes in this area? How the hell did one get on base?

“Nein.” Konig replied, still looking at the corpse. His gaze fell upon it with a sense of… familiarity, maybe? “Not a fox, no.”

“Then what? It – whatever it was didn’t even eat-“

“I’ll take care of this.” Was all Konig said. He stood up and marched past me – I was barely able to catch a glimpse of his furious expression. His eyes were hard and narrow, and as he walked away, I noticed that his shoulders were tense and his hands were balled into fists. I didn’t dare say anything to him; he almost looked the same way he did after our first mission together, except this time, his anger seemed to be directed at something, instead of just a post-mission adrenaline high.

“I’ll see you later.” He said over his shoulder. There was an obvious fury to his words, and although I knew it wasn’t intended towards me, it still made me freeze where I stood – almost as if I might anger him more simply by taking a step after him.

Whatever it is… I thought, watching him disappear into the compound, he’s sorting it out. I can take care of myself. Although, with such an abrupt and tense departure, I was at a loss on what to do next. I looked back at the bird; its terrified eyes locked onto the sky above it, frozen in its last wish to fly away from whatever horror it endured.

A shiver ran up my spine, prompting me to look away.

- - - -

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michaeljoncarter · 11 months

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i always thought chris and damian's potential friendship could be a lot more interesting than jon and damian. the fact that the origin of chris did not prevent clark from considering him his son could create amusing dynamic with damian's early life views "blood matters, adoption is not" instead, we've been receiving a narrative "supersons are the only real children of superman and batman" from dc for years 😒

i've been wanting to ramble for an obnoxiously long time about about all the issues i have with jon, especially as he relates to chris, his relationship with damian & just… this whole recent shift toward focusing more and more on biological relationships for a while now, so i'm gonna take this ask as an opportunity to just get it out of my system

this is about to be an absolute BEHEMOTH of a post. like seriously, apologies in advance for how absurdly long it's about to be lol

this was/is my biggest issue with both Supersons & jon as a concept even before i really got into superman comics, and jesus christ. it is SO much worse when you go back and see everything that was scrapped to try and make way for jon, and nowhere is that more true than with chris. the absolutely insane amounts of potential just deleted for seemingly no other reason than wanting to give clark a biological son instead of an adopted one WILL make you want to strangle someone

seriously, i know most people are probably at least vaguely aware chris existed, but i don't feel like enough people know enough about him to realize just how fucking criminal him being replaced with jon really was. i certainly didn't, anyway. all i really knew was that lois & clark already had an adopted son pre-flashpoint, which was already enough to make the optics of deleting him in favor of the biokid not great, but it's sooooo much more annoying than that

not to be dramatic, but having a character of this caliber sitting right the fuck there (with a final appearance pre-flashpoint that was literally just setup to make him as easy as possible for future writers to bring back) but deciding to delete him in favor of a character as painfully generic as jon kent should count as some sort of crime against humanity

(and this is all without even getting into arguably the worst part about him being erased (and then brought back but evil & with a different name), which is that chris was co-created by richard donner & named christopher as a tribute to christopher reeve. dc what the fuck is wrong with you)

but it's ESPECIALLY frustrating since one of jon's main claims to fame is being the super to damian's bat. you could not have created a more perfect counterpart to damian wayne than christopher kent if you'd tried

this character was made for damian, and i really might mean that literally. after spiraling down this rabbit hole, i'm pretty convinced damian & chris were originally created as a set. like... did you know they were introduced at the same time? because, again, i know i certainly didn't

but we'll circle back around to that in a minute because all the weird connections & suspiciously convenient timing aside, intentional or not, they were an absolute goldmine of potential, plotwise and thematically

either dc just made characters that perfectly mirrored each other by complete accident & missed a hell of an opportunity by failing to notice it OR it was intentional and they just decided to throw it all out in favor of replacing chris with creativity void that is jon because... a biological son seemed more appealing? and/or easily marketable/adaptable? i'm honestly not sure which is worse lol

these two were perfect foils. seriously, there are so many little details about chris's character that are just damian-but-backwards. they mirror each other so closely that even their literal births reflect, with damian being a human grown in an artificial womb like a kryptonian and chris being a kryptonian born naturally like a human, and they so easily could've had such an incredibly unique & complex relationship

but, yeah, probably the most important contrast between them was the (initial) fixation on genetics & bloodlines with damian vs chris fully rejecting his biological parents & considering himself 100% a kent. this has been a problem with damian's character for a while now, but jon & Supersons really took it to the next level, and i hate it

in the interest of not letting this spiral into a 20k+ hatepost, i'm gonna try to not get too in the weeds about the specifics, here, but in this post-Supersons world we live in, i've seen quite a few people (including, most recently, tom king) talking like this shift away from focusing on adopted family in favor of blood started with damian's introduction. and... i really couldn't disagree more. if anything, damian was kind of the anti-jon kent

i famously hate a LOT about morrison's batman era, but their handling of damian's integration into the batfam is the one area where i feel like they (and the other writers of this era) absolutely stomped just about every other writer that's come after. it really seems like they were well aware of just how bad a biological kid could end up being for a story where adopted/chosen/non-traditional family is such a core component, and they were very careful about how they went about it

say what you will about morrison era batman (and believe me, i know there is plenty to say), but there was way less of this weird friction between damian's character & the chosen family aspect of the batfam

i'm not about to sit here and pretend i prefer morrison's damian as an individual character over tomasi/gleason's. damian's character arc in Batman & Robin (2011)/Robin: Son of Batman blows what little, incredibly subtle character development he had pre-flashpoint out of the water--not exactly surprising, seeing as tomasi/gleason tend to be more character-focused & morrison really just loves their huge, complex plots, with character work tending to take more of a back seat

he's a much more solid, fully formed, just overall better character now, but specifically in terms of handling him in relation to the capital-T Themes of the batfam, morrison was very focused on pushing back against the idea that being the "blood son" made him more legitimate than the other batkids, which is something that writers since have largely not really cared about and/or seemed to actively disagree with

i'm gonna come back to this weird shift toward bruce-centrism with his character in a minute, but it's just pretty wild to me that "SON OF BATMAN" has basically become the zero-negative-connotations tagline for his character & how he introduces himself 99% of the time when that was originally something that was framed like this

(Batman #657)

Supersons definitely didn't cause this issue, but it definitely didn't help

damian & jon are both characters whose concepts are pretty heavily based around the same ideas of like... bloodlines & inheritance & all that, but jon's entire character is based around just accepting the inherent value & importance of who your (specifically biological) parents are at face value with ZERO interest in taking any sort of critical look at how important genetics are to just about every aspect of him

a character like damian shouldn't even be allowed in the same zip code as a character like jon, let alone given a teamup book dedicated to making the fact that they're the blood sons of batman & superman the basis of their entire relationship, and equating damian's place in the batfam to jon's place in the "superfam" (which didn't/doesn't even really exist anymore because literally everyone else was deleted in favor of jon), and hurtling right past just failing to push back against the dicey subtext right into just kinda… endorsing it

not to be calling out this random person, but i feel like this comment under one of the issues from the Last Son arc on a website i've obviously never used kinda sums up the problem with the unintentional messaging of Supersons, and it makes me want to actually die every time i see it

there's nothing inherently wrong with stories that center around biological family, obviously, and there's nothing inherently wrong with the concept of a character popping out a kid of their own that grows up to be like them, but the problem is these stories aren't happening in a void

when you have stories that have historically been as focused on these capital-T Themes of found family & adoption as these, you need to be careful with how you handle something like the addition of a biological child. shifting more and more away from focusing on families of choice to fixate more and more on blood & biological relation ends up saying something whether you intend it to or not

the reason this drives me particularly insane specifically re: chris is that his concept could've made up for the exact thematic issues with damian that sticking him next to a character with a concept like jon's has brought to the forefront & shined a giant, uncritical spotlight on

intentional or not, chris was/is exactly the sort of counterbalance a character like damian needs because... i don't know how else to phrase it other than damian is a character that needs to be challenged. he needs someone in the story that he can thematically butt heads with so he doesn't end up just butting heads with The Theme itself

originally, tim was kinda the like... adoption advocate, for lack of a better term, put up against him, but imo this could a bit problematique. making him conflict with someone from the same family unit just kinda makes it come off as weird favoritism

like... bruce deciding damian should stay with dick after he came back from the "dead" and going to team up with tim was very thematically appropriate, so good job there, team, but the way bruce was just like "wow, thanks for raising my kid while i was gone, dick… and keep up the good work! because i'm moving to japan! bye!" and never looked back lol??

there needs to be something there to balance him out & serve as a sort of counterargument to the whole "blood son = real son" idea, but imo it'd work a lot better if it were someone outside the batfam so we wouldn't have to sacrifice the relationships there & make the dynamics all weird in service of Theme

chris could've done all that and then some because it's not just that he considers his adoptive parents his real parents. it's also that the biological parents he rejected were both villains

chris had nothing but "bad" blood. his mother and father were both genocidal maniacs whose goal in life was to enslave and/or wipe out the human race, and he was born & raised in a kryptonian superprison like some sort of alien bane

by all accounts, he probably should've turned out to be an absolute terror, but he DIDN'T because the idea that people don't have to be defined by their genes or the circumstances of their birth is like... the entire point (of post-crisis superman comics, especially. which is one of the biggest reasons why jon is so goddamn annoying, but that's its own 50k+ word post)

and this is the other big thing i find so annoying about the change in narrative around damian's character post-flashpoint. his decision to leave his old life behind & become a hero tends to be framed more like… choosing one biological parent over the other. like everything about him was just as genetically pre-determined as everyone else in this universe, but lucky for him, not all of his genes were evil, so he had a fighting chance!

and this is true not just of him but like... 99% of other "good" characters who have villain bioparents. they almost always have one bioparent who's a villain and the other is good or at least more neutral--damian, kon, (preboot) joey, rose, lian, spoiler, obsidian, jade, jackson hyde, emiko queen, etc, etc, etc

don't get me wrong, i'm not saying i dislike the whole one "good" parent, one "evil" parent trope as a concept. i'm a huge sucker for it when it's done right. that's basically just a list of my faves, and with most of them, this is a nonissue. i'm just saying there are almost no good characters who come from purely "bad" blood

we're getting more and more characters whose entire personality is based around & whose goodness is attributed almost entirely to who their biological parents are, but there's a serious lack of anyone the complete opposite side of the spectrum. we need more characters who reject their families altogether and exist completely in spite of where they came from & who they were born to sort of balance the thematic scales

there might be others that're just slipping my mind, but in current comics, cassandra cain is the only prominent character i can think of who is a "good" person despite coming from from nothing but "bad" blood

(i mean, i guess you could argue all the brainiac descendants still technically exist in current continuity, but like... do they? do they, really?) (EDIT: no, they do not! not in a way that makes them applicable here, anyway. i forgot vril dox ii was brought back in rebirth & retconned to be exactly like his father (thank you, anon who pointed this out). so this is actually just another example of the next point....... l o l)

instead of more characters like this, we've been getting the opposite. kids of villains who were fundamentally good and pointedly nothing like their parents have been rewritten to just be exactly like their shitty parents, actually, because evil is just as genetic as heroism, i guess

this is something that's been annoying me for a while, but i just kinda assumed my super cynical takeaway was just my own personal biases making me read way more into it than was actually there. i'm sure that's definitely a big contributing factor, and this wasn't even something i was really gonna get into, but in the time it took my slow ass to actually get around to answering this, i'll be damned if if tom king didn't go and announce his new, Supersons-inspired character, and just flat out say that the exact same, fucked up message i've felt like i was getting from dc for a while now is exactly what her character is meant to be about

now, i can't judge a character that hasn't even been introduced too much, and to be honest, a character like this seems like much less of an issue (in this respect, anyway) in wonder woman comics, which have tended to have more of a focus more on biological family (with diana and hippolyta and even kinda some versions of donna (and also… y'know... lyta)) than batman & superman comics

this wouldn't be nearly as much of an issue if it were just happening on its own, but it's that this is yet ANOTHER character on the way whose concept begins and ends at "biological child of hero," where it's just kinda meant to be understood that means they'll be a hero, too. just like the shift in how damian's framed, it just seems reflective of this larger trend where the the underlying theme of dc as a whole is increasingly starting to feel like "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

(eta from the future to account for king's bullshit ww run: somehow, it's even worse than we could've imagined lmfao. but regardless, my point here was more about this tk quote & how it perfectly encapsulates this whole issue, less about the actual character herself, so i feel like it still stands. she's still annoying as all hell, but just for different (and arguably worse?) reasons than we were originally led to believe... lol)

and again, there's nothing inherently wrong with a character popping out a kid that takes after them. the issue with it as an overarching Theme is that while it makes for a cute little story about makin' ma an' pa proud in some places, it makes for some real bleak, depressing shit in others, and unfortunately, chris is a perfect example of that

when he was "brought back" in rebirth, intentional or not, he was changed to better fit the new theme of post-jon superman comics and turned into just... a mirror version of jon, basically. instead of being a character who pointedly was not defined by his shitty parents & horrible upbringing, he is now, of course, COMPLETELY defined by who his biological parents are. he's just lor-zod, son of general zod & commander ursa, who was just kinda doomed from the start

(Action Comics #997)

(booster being complicit in this arc is one of the worst things that's ever happened to me btw. somebody please revoke jurgens's custody i can't do this anymore)

(and i seriously doubt anyone cares enough to bring this up, but just for posterity, i feel the need to acknowledge that, yes, i'm aware this was an alt future version, but he showed up later in other comics acting pretty much exactly the same as a kid, so... lol)

anyway. i'm not trying to accuse any dc writers of being weird, cartoonesque supervillains sitting around twirling their evil mustaches and like... deliberately including themes of biological determinism or whatever the fuck. i'm sure it's all unintentional, but like i said, when you have a story that's based around one message and you rewrite it in a way that conveys essentially the opposite message, it ends up saying something regardless of intent

this thing where we take characters whose concepts are all about them being fundamentally, pointedly good despite where & who they came from and turn them into supervillains just as bad (or worse) than their shitty parents has always been a problem--the last couple decades of constant character assassination for joey wilson is probably the most obvious example--but it's gotten noticeably worse over the past few years

all this to say i think not just damian but dc as a whole would've really benefited from a character like chris. in superman comics specifically, ignoring everything that's happened post-reboot, he would've been/was a great way to offset some of the issues caused by tt03's lex clone retcon making kon biologically related to clark & turning him into yet another "only half evil" character. execution notwithstanding, i definitely think the new version of kon's origin is more interesting than the original, but it would've been nice if we'd gotten a character to fill the niche westfield clone kon left empty

chris was so fundamentally incompatible with the whole "apple doesn't fall far from the tree" idea, he wouldn't even have really had to do anything. he would've been doing some pretty heavy lifting, thematically speaking, just by existing. fixating on blood & genes to the extent that they have probably would've been a bit more difficult with a character like him standing in the same panel

obviously, just swapping out one character for the other wouldn't fix everything. the issues with jon & all this other mess are just symptomatic of the much larger issues at dc, but it's kinda hard not to wonder when things so easily could've been so different, which is how i'm gonna segue into the WAY less serious part of this post because i'm really not convinced chris being such a perfect fit & counterbalance was just an accident

this is fully some tinfoil hat level nonsense. take everything i'm about to say with a grain of salt, and just know i'm fully aware of how pepe silvia-esque i'm about to sound

so... if we're going by cover dates, Last Son (the arc that introduced chris) started in december 2006, the same month that Batman & Son (the arc that introduced damian) wrapped up. that they were introduced consecutively would already be kinda weird, but the thing that makes it really weird is just how similar the two storylines are

to massively oversimplify, both arcs were about the secret biological son of one of clark/bruce's most dangerous/obsessive villains (and i'm not a fan of morrison's talia, but that is how she was being portrayed at the time) that no one knew existed until one day they were suddenly dropped in clark/bruce's lap as a part of some sort of world domination plot by their villain parent(s), and both end with damian/chris disappearing with said villain parent while trying to help stop their evil plan

and this was right at the beginning of the era of the batman & superman titles running pretty closely parallel. not too long after Last Son ended, the whole World Without/Against Superman during New Krypton also kicked off the same month as Battle for the Cowl

right alongside dick's batman era, superman comics had mon-el (who i always feel obligated to note is nothing like the cw version. please god) serving as replacement superman after clark was forced to leave the planet to deal with the new krypton thing & struggling to adjust and uphold the symbol for clark

there was no real interaction between them or acknowledgement of the similarities there, either, but later on, there was a little crossover comic about the similar states of the batfam & superfam in this era

(World's Finest (2009))

all this to say seemingly intentionally parallel storylines in the batman & superman titles that went largely unacknowledged weren't at all unheard of around the time chris & damian were introduced. it really doesn't feel like too much of a stretch to me to think that damian & chris could've been part of that trend

…

and also the artist for Last Son, who designed chris, and the artist for Batman & Son, who designed damian, are brothers. i KNOW that doesn't automatically make everything they do connected!! but you can't just find out something like this while digging for connections for your conspiracy theory post and then NOT mention it. this is the kinda shit red string & pushpin people dream about at night

anyway.

just to be clear, i'm not saying think chris was created specifically for a future teamup with damian. he was pretty clearly meant to be his own, standalone character, but it just kinda seems to me like they were conceptualized with each other in mind

but conspiracy theorizing aside, intentional or not, there was a truly maddening amount of potential here

their basic character concepts were so similar. again, to massively over simplify, they were both the sons of villains raised in secret in some sort of Evil Organization, damian with the league & chris with zod's loyalists, both the son or "heir" of the leader of said organization, and both ended up rejecting the way they were raised in favor of joining their respective heroic fathers instead

characterization-wise, though, they were exact opposites. their overall circumstances were similar on the surface, but their actual experiences could not have been less alike. neither childhood was ideal, obviously, and growing up in the league definitely had its downsides, but overall, damian was treated like a prince & kinda spoiled rotten, where chris was treated like dirt & horrifically neglected/abused, and they came out of their respective origins with personalities & outlooks that were just as opposite

i could ramble on about every single little contrasting detail in their characters for days, but jesus christ look at how ridiculously long this post is already

there's just so much that could've been with them!! so many things about their respective characters that could've played off of each other in such interesting ways. you already had a ton to work with just in chris's concept on its own, but combined with some of his later arcs?? the whole nightwing thing could've so easily been reworked into something amazing

chris was so unique and well thought out, he would've been an absolutely perfect fit & done a lot for damian and superman comics and just dc as a whole. he had more than enough staying power, and everything about his erasure is so frustrating. if you haven't read much/any preboot superman, i really can't stress enough just how easy it would've been for them to bring him back. i'm not exaggerating when i say his very last appearance from right before flashpoint hit was literally just setup to make him as easy as possible to bring back after the reboot

(Superman: War of the Supermen #4)

he was re-babified and ready to go. the less savory aspects of his later storyline were already being kinda soft retconned away via phantom zone memory weirdness, so they wouldn't have even had to address that--not that that would've been a valid excuse for not using him, anyway, seeing as nobody's actually given a shit about continuity in years, especially where superman comics are concerned

it's just so disappointing that a character as stacked with potential as chris has been essentially erased in the main universe and relegated to extremely occasional elseworlds appearances in favor of jon, whose incredibly generic, one-note concept really would've been a much better fit for a cute but depthless one-off character from a random alternate universe

he was cute enough as a kid, sure, but he was always much more of an accessory to the other characters around him than a unique, standalone character himself. the past few years have just been book after book after book of writers trying and failing to mine a shred of potential from his shallow concept and find a way to make him individual or unique or necessary in any way (and stomping all over the stories he's meant to be adding to in the process), which is annoying enough on its own, but that it really seems to have happened for no other reason than dc preferring the idea of biological kids makes it so much worse

it sucks, man, but... well, i guess at the very least, we'll always have Multiversity: The Just with its weird, spoiled brat au of damian & chris's supersons on earth-nepotism to give us a taste of what could've been 💔

#ask #anonymous #damian wayne #chris kent #dc critical #and for blacklists:#anti jon kent #LONG POST #god this is ridiculously long lmao #ths is like 6 different half-written posts all stitched into one so. forgive the mess #(eta way later bcs i reskimmed this months after the fact and it's bothering me:#i did a lot of (unintentional but still) conflating of adoption & 'chosen family'#bc i was talking about the batfam ((mostly) adopted family) and preboot superfam ((mostly) chosen family) at the same time/interchangeably #but those aren't the same thing #actually there's a lot in here that i don't like the wording of/don't think i explained very well in retrospect #but given that i was mostly yelling about the de-legitimizing of adopted kids #the fact that i kinda accidentally did the same thing by misnomer-ing especially sticks out & felt like it needed to be addressed lol)

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wasyago · 9 months

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YAGO!!!! GAHFRHRHAHARHAHRHRF IM BACK (Design Detail Anon back << i dont know what to call myself LOL) I HAVE MORE WORDS

WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON BIOLUMINESCENT TRITONS?!!!?! Obviously Gillion's eyes and coral already glow cause of his funky scrungly squelchy magic BUT what if... he had little glowing freckles... scales? im not fully sure how fish people work.

Your designs for Gillion and Edyn already do an amazing job of separating their underwater biology from humans like Chip and Jay (thinking of the glossy skin, the tails, and the yellow sclera/slitted eyes)- like it's very easy to tell by looking at them that while they are People they are very much FISH People. Which of course sounds pretty obvious but I mention it because a lot of triton art I see usually just looks like a blue person with gills and fins, if that makes sense.

But to expand on my original question- both Gill and Edyn are from the trench, and, in my logic, adjacent at the very least, to other deep sea creatures like anglar fish and some squids. They already have darkvision but the image of them having little hidden patterns when they get super deep in the ocean is... so cute...

im realizing after Ive written all of this that it kinda stopped being a question and started being a ramble so I do apologize :']

(on another note I love your caspian redesign it does a really sweet job of incorporating literal elements of water into his features *smooches him* **respectfully***)

OMG!!!! i love all your thoughts this is so cool thank you for sharing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (and thank you!! i tried very hard to make caspian look like a water spirit and not an ocean creature and still make him interesting visually...)

you know, now that you've said that the trench is deep under water im realizing that it's something i didn't actually think about. like, i remember hearing Gill say that he's from the trench, but it never actually registered in my brain that trench = deep and dark. everything makes so much sense now oh my god.... finn saying "why did they keep this from us" about the sun, because the sun simply doesn't reach to where they live...

i dont know why i imagined the capital as this bright white sunny coral reef when it should be dark and mysterious and harsh with no sunlight. bruh. it makes so much seeeense. and all the talk about strict rules for safety and foodchain and danger, because they're literally so deep there's a lot of giant spooky creatures.... hold on im having a worldview change.... oh god....

considering all this... YES bioluminescent tritons!!!!!!!!!!!! i imagine they don't glow too much, since while tritons are pretty smart they don't have a lot of natural protection from predators and attracting attention would be suboptimal. but they do have glowing parts for um... reasons. idk, they're magical creatures in a magical world.

i imagine their stripes and eyes and hair and underbellies all emit a glow in low lighting, and in complete darkness only the stripes are visible. and every triton has a unique stripe pattern or color so they're all different like that.

idk how it actually works. like, if they glow in any darkness or only in the darkness under water (although it wouldn't make a difference since they're always wet) or only when they're very deep or if they can choose when to glow or when to not, but its still a very cool detail!!!!!!!!!!! glowy fishy people yayyy

#yagotalk #my art #sketch #oh boy do i tag this.... its a long text post......#aah yeah fuck it we ball #gillion tidestrider #edyn tidestrider #jrwi riptide

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druidshollow · 5 months

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HI HELLO WHO ARE ALL YOUR ITERATORS AND WHATS GOING ON HSHFKSKD . i want to be interested but my brain requires at least a simple explanation to understand things /silly /genq

also do you have any Slugs . any strange cats perhaps

OH LORDY LMAO.... right now im actually working on a doc with a simple timeline of events and all the comics in order buuut as for slugs yeah theres a few! this is a slugcat post >:)))

this is the vanisher (they/he), lovingly named shifting shades by phrases! their colony originally lived on top of adamant dune's can, but after the iterator begins becoming increasingly violent towards the slugcats their colony flees. but they are not furred or terribly well adapted to the cold, so they need to live atop or near iterator cans to escape the cold. in an attempt to save their family, the vanisher journeys over the mountains of the great divide to find a safer home for their colony. instead they find themself very much entangled in the corners' group's issues with rivers. oops! when they reach phrases the consuming (rivers' rot lizards purposed specifically for killing iterators) is already destroying glass incident, and phrases agrees to let the slugcats move into their city Bastion, while campaigning the slugcat to kill the consuming and save their little sister's life.

they manage to defeat the beast using the power of being very slimy and slippery, and on the way back to phrases' can they run into our next slugcat, the juggernaut (she/they), later named mighty compassion by phrases!

compassion is one of two slugcats purposed by eleven rivers for the purpose of delivering the consuming to his targets, the twins, and stealing their mass rarefaction cells to render them too weak to defend themselves. she was sent to glass incident and was Very much successful in her mission. on her way back to eleven rivers she runs into shifting shades, and at first the two quarrel over what to do with the cells. compassion wants to complete her mission and bring them to rivers but shades is very much "NO YOU SHOULD FEEL BAD GO GIVE THEM BACK. IM HEADING THAT WAY ANYWAYS. JUST COME WITH ME" compassion is convinced and they return to glass incident with shades, but glass asks them to instead bring the cells to phrases, whose cells had also been stolen. she reasoned that the damage had already been done and she was dying no matter what anyone did, but since phrases was unharmed they could still be saved if their power was returned. phrases is incredibly grateful and very touched by glass' sacrifice, and gifts compassion with her name as well as the mark of communication

after everything goes down and is done going down mighty compassion is welcomed into Bastion of Warmth by phrases and shades' colony

this is red/brave triumph (he/him), rivers' other slugcat and mighty compassion's brother. (he doesnt get a title name because he wouldnt be playable lol) he steals four falling phrases' rarefaction cells, originally i was going to have this be a mistake (went to the wrong iterator fucking ioops) but i think i'm going to have rivers do it intentionally so that phrases cant use their senior privilege to stop him and also because they were already meddling by sending shades to kill the consuming. not sure yet. havent decided yet. anyways he steals phrases' cells but when he is sent back out to release the consuming in rivers' other target no long nights, he abandons his mission, feeling dejected by rivers' increasing unfeeling nature and aggression towards him. he runs into his sister atop phrases (this is when phrases gives him the name brave triumph even tho he doesnt have mark and cant understand. they just love naming slugcats. i think he probably finds some way to gesture an apology and phrases feels quite moved by it) but he doesn't stay, feeling ashamed because when they were pups he was violent towards glass incident.

this is the eulogist (they/she), lovingly named fuzzling by glass incident, lmao. its a character trait of glass' that shes bad at naming things sdghsgd fuzzling finds their way into glass' chamber a short time before the consuming is released into her structure, when they are still just a pup. glass, a BIG lover of slugcats, takes the pup in and raises her. they grow very close. right before glass' collapse, she urges the pup to flee as to not get hurt, but still young and afraid fuzzling refuses to go. glass does her best to shield the slugpup through the fall and luckily she is mostly unscathed. glass however, wasnt so lucky. although she actually remained conscious after her collapse for some time, after some time the cold was too much for her systems to cope with and she passed away. she could feel this coming and wrote one last message for her brother no long nights in a pearl, urging fuzzling to bring it to him. fuzzling however is afraid and doesn't leave until they are fully grown. i have a lil comic of fuzzling returning from finding food to find glass dead. i cant remember if ive posted it but i dont think i have so im attaching it lmao

the message fuzzling brings no long nights includes a goodbye from glass, and a slideshow of her favourite memories of nights and fuzzling. she began saving these memories on the pearl as soon as she started losing them (massive :(((( ) so she could eventually give them to nights. fuzzling stays with him after delivering the pearl, and nights suspects that glass really sent the message so that him and the slugcat could be together, that glass wouldnt want either of them to be alone.

god thats fucking heavy. uhhhh the rest are all root's slugs i think!!!

these guys arent relevant until far after glass and rivers have collapsed, after the world as a whole is plunging into an ice age. feeling lonely, isolated, and afraid for the future, ten silver roots purposes the frequencer (they/them) to travel around and send out a sos message that basically said "DEAR VOID SOMEONE PLEASE MESSAGE ME BACK I AM SO LONELY AND SAD I DONT KNOW WHAT IM GONNA DO" and eventually it reached phrases, who was also desperately lonely and afraid, having lost half their siblings including their best friend. the two quickly become very close, and create the lovers, who are basically vr slugcats that they can tap into so they can play together and also hug they both just really wanted to hug eachother

#druid draw #oc posting #slugcat oc #rain world oc #rain world #sequential

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imagine-knb · 1 month

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Can I please request GOM+kagami who are now aged up pro basketball players meeting their fem S/O for the first time at some like special event and she js so happens to be Japan's number 1 model? I hope this isn't confusing lol.

Kuroko: He was walking passed a group of people, avoiding the paparazzi, when he noticed her getting a little to close to the edge of the sidewalk. She had managed to take enough of a step backward to stumble, but before she could fall completely, Kuroko was catching her. He'd never seen anyone look at him like he was a knight in shining armor before, so it really caught him off guard when she told him a breathless, "Thank you." Then it really caught him off guard when her bodyguards took her out of his arms.

Kagami: He had been chatting with her throughout most of the event after she walked up to him with interest in her eyes. By the time the event was wrapping up, she had insisted they keep in touch through social media. After she put her details into his phone and walked away, Kagami glanced at his screen. He nearly choked on his own spit when he saw the account that had been added to his friend's list. "What the hell, who is she?! She's more famous than me!" He had no idea who she was when they first met.

Kise: Having been a model himself at some point in his life, Kise actually knew her from his younger days when they were both new models in the industry together. As such, he's easily able to get her attention when he calls out a happy, "____cchi!" It had been a long time since she'd heard the familiar honorific and the two of them spend a lot of the event together after that, catching up. By the time the event is ending, she's slipping her phone number to Kise so they could continue where they left off on their own terms.

Aomine: If there was something other than basketball that Aomine kept up with, it was the latest idols and models. So he knew exactly who she was the second he laid eyes on her at the party. To be frank, he's trying to not let himself freak out on the inside as he tries to act cool on the outside. "What's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?" He knows it's not the smoothest of pickup lines, but it's enough to get her laughing. He spends the rest of the event trying to get closer to her in the hopes she'd take him home.

Midorima: She was gorgeous, all eyes on her and all cameras pointed in her direction. And she was talking to him. Which meant that all eyes were also on him and all cameras were also noting his every move. Midorima wasn't much of a fan of his conversations being televised. But when he leaned down to whisper in her ear, asking her, "Could we continue this conversation privately?" and she turned beet red in front of the paparazzi. Well... He should have expected all the headlines that would be published the day after.

Murasakibara: He was near the snack bar when he noticed her. She was acting strange, stepping from side to side every so often, glancing around him. Murasakibara's eyes followed her gaze and he noted someone with a clipboard looking around. When he turned back to her, she was stuffing her face with a muffin. "Sorry," she apologized to him. "I'm using you as a shield to hide from my manager while I eat." That got a laugh out of him and he stood stalk still for as long as she needed after that.

Akashi: She had been seated next to him during the course of the event, so naturally, they would start a conversation. Akashi was polite, well-spoken, and engaging; everything that seemed to attract her to him. By the end of the event, the chemistry between the two of them had been noticed by everyone in attendance. It was nothing short of expected when he took her hand in view of all the cameras, kissing it goodnight as he asked her when he would be expecting to see her again.

#kuroko #kise #kagami #aomine #midorima #murasakibara #akashi #gom

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venjamin-kingdomhearts · 5 months

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Ventus and Vanitas for the character asks!! 3, 8, 21, 22, and 23! Sorry if that's too many? You don't gotta do all of em!

HELLO thank you for the ask!! this is a lotta questions but i'm excited to answer them!! Warning, there's a little negativity since some of the questions ask for dislikes about the characters. I love both Ven and Vanitas, I'm just saying my personal thoughts on them! + If you don't agree with these thoughts that's not a huge deal to me, we just agree to disagree LOL

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

Ventus - The "You're awful, Aqua" scene. Please Ventus I know you're upset but APOLOGIZE TO AQUA she didn't deserve that. I wish his and Aqua's relationship had more focus in general, because they're really cute when they're together. I genuinely hope Ventus apologizes to her for being a brat in BBS though

Vanitas - To be honest, anything I dislike about Vanitas comes from fanon, since I feel Vanitas does his role as antagonist really well.

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

Ventus - Two big things.

One: Portraying him as a coldblooded killer when in comes to the KHUX/Strelitzia stuff. I think it's a lot more fun that Ventus didn't mean to hurt anyone, but ended up being responsible for so much pain. It's really tragic, and I think it makes KHUX more interesting as opposed to "Ventus killed Strelitzia out of malice". Also, it's genuinely just funnier like that. I know it's dark but nothing makes me laugh more than the mental image of 10 year old Ventus covered in blood just going "wow is this strawberry jam?? lol how'd this end up here?"

Two: Not the biggest fan of people like. Boiling Ventus' personality to just "oh he's baby". I think Ventus being childish is a really important character flaw, but he's got a lot more to him than just that, and his youthful nature has upsides and downsides. On this note I 100% think Ventus knows what sex is and that that's how babies are made. I know it's a weirdly popular portrayal to just have him not know what sex is at 17 years old. It's also a lot funnier if Ventus just has a different vocabulary from the other characters his age when it comes to adult topics and doesn't understand slang because Master Eraqus taught him that it's impolite to use term XYZ or whatever. Vanitas - Okay this is rough because there's a lot in the KH fandom's portrayals of Vanitas that I really don't like and other things that I really love. But to match Ven I'll boil it down to two big things: One: This one is kinda hard to explain but. I know that Ventus and the Wayfinder Trio DO NOT have to be present in every "Vanitas Redemption Fanfiction" but it really grinds my gears when they're treated as, like, 'close-minded' and completely left out of Vanitas' life. The idea that Vanitas is secretly a good guy and it's just his relationship with the Wayfinders/the Wayfinders themselves are the problem is just such a boring take. They don't have to be on good terms but have Vanitas earn their tolerance, have them settle things, man! It's SO JUICY when they have to work things out or Vanitas feels actual regret and isn't just handed the "you're a good guy now and we trust you" stuff on a silver platter. Ventus, Sora, and Vanitas are a trio...I think that if Sora takes in Vanitas as a friend, he should at least try to understand Ventus' fears about the whole thing.

Two: I think its a BILLION times funnier if Vanitas is shorter than Ventus but SO MANY PEOPLE MAKE HIM TALLER IT PISSES ME OFF. Vanitas and Ventus are either the same size OR Vanitas is shorter. No more tall Vanitas. I am on my hands and knees begging you all. Short King Vanitas. SHORT. KING. VANITAS. As a short person I need this. DO IT FOR ME.

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

Ventus - Hardest thing for me to write when it comes to Ventus are. Sassy remarks/comebacks, and times I'd KNOW he'd be a brat but I can't bring myself to write him saying anything too harsh. But my favorite things to do? I love giving Ventus issues/fears that he would reasonably develop after his 12 year nap. I don't care if canon says he doesn't have horrible insomnia after KH3. He SHOULD have horrible insomnia and I WILL write him crying in frustration when he's struggling with sleep.

Vanitas - I actually don't write Vanitas much. I feel like I can't do him justice, but it's fun to have him just be a douche-bag sometimes. I think I'm not great at his dialogue, but writing about his feelings towards Ventus is fun.

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?

Ventus - I LOVE fics where Ventus is forced to take a more responsible role, or has to balance his childish nature with a growing sense of maturity. This is one of the reasons I'm SUCH a huge fan of fanfics where Ventus is like a big brother figure to Sora. I also LOVE LOVE LOVE fics where Ventus' anger is explored like. Oh he is FULL of anger, man. As much love and kindness that's in his heart. There is Hatred there too. AND ANY FIC THAT REVOLVES AROUND HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH SORA AND HOW BEING IN SORA'S HEART AFFECTS HIM. Fic recs that have some of the above tropes!

Hurricane Heartbeat by Dorked

Sleeping hearts often wander by Bommie20

How Long Have You Known Sora, Exactly? by 13thSyndicate

Three Quarters by angeltheatre For Ventus stuff I don't like, see question 8's answer

Vanitas - I love when he's kinda. Forcibly made to form a "truce" with Ventus but keeps testing him. I love fics where Ven's just minding his own business and Vanitas is like "I'm gonna start shit >:)" and they both get called out for being idiots when they fight each other. But OH MAN. MORE THAN THAT. I love love love when fics have Vanitas adapt the attitude of "No one can hurt Ventus BUT ME." it's my favorite flavor of protective Vanitas. For stuff I don't like, see question 8's answer

23. Favorite picture of this character?

#THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!!!#ventus and vanitas #my thoughts #ask box #ask meme #also i made the three images aside from the ventus gif you are free to use them for all your needs #SORRY FOR THE NEGATIVITY

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penumbramewtwos · 8 months

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Hello, I just found your blog and first of all I like your story but I have a question. I literally looked through your entire blog and fanfic but I realized something, you said that Okita was turned into Mewtwo when she was 6 but according to Unova she was the one who conceived Okita so that the transformation would be completed BUT here I have my problem... HOW? HELL WAS THAT POSSIBLE!? BECAUSE A 6 YEAR OLD HUMAN CHILD IS AT LEAST APPROXIMATELY 106.68 CENTIMETERS OR FOR AMERICANS, 42 INCHES! I mean, yes, Unova is 2 meters or 6 feet BUT IT DOES NOT JUSTIFY HOW THEY COULD REDUCE A HUMAN, INSERT HIM INTO UNOVA'S UTTERUS AND HIS BODY DIDN'T REJECT THE FETUS! Because if you know physics then you should be familiar with the Square-cube law which basically states that if we enlarge a mouse to the size of an elephant it will explode and if we reduce an elephant to the size of a mouse it will die cold, you don't have to be a scientist to know. If we reduce a six-year-old child to the size of a fetus, he will die and if you don't believe me about the size, look at this image:

On the left is six-year-old Okita and on the right is Unvoa

Hi, thanks for the strong interest! I'm glad you like it, and I appreciate the effort you've put into this ask! I have three ways I want to answer this, as this ask is very intense:

A "haha pokemon go brrrrrrrrr" fashion [1], a serious fashion (to clear up any confusion) [2], and a 'lol whut' fashion [3]: [1]

[2] To clear up any confusion (and it is mostly my own fault, as I haven't cleared this up on any pinned post link) [Spoiler warning for some]…

Okita the human girl, and Okita the babytwo were two separate entities (this is the main plot twist in the fanfic which is yet to come. Apologies, I've keep that detail very vague, not to spoil things). They we're both fused together by Team Helix Rocket (T.H.R), in the hope that she would bend to Giovanni's will easier with a human element. Unlike the other experiments that were fused with Unova's DNA and a psychic vessel. The unborn babytwo from Unova, and frozen embryo stored by Ai and Amare, were both stolen by T.H.R for the experiment that became modern day Okita).

During the fanfic's timeline, Okita likes to keep up the naritive in her mind that her earliest memory was from when she was 6, and that she was taken. This's why she says what she says in the first chapter; that's also the narrative that her parents told her. But truly, her earliest functional memories are from within the tank, being 'created'… Treating her like a human for a moment, our earliest memories are often fabricated by what our parents tell us.

Both Unova, and Okita's creator will tell Okita what really happened at separate points during the fanfic (the main plot twist). Okita firmly denies both of their stories, and becomes very cold with both of them.

Final points: Unova was pregnant with Okita, as a fetus babytwo, probably no bigger than a human baby at a late second trimester. Ai and Amare (Okita's human parents), had conceived naturally, but decided to freeze the embryo of Okita (Human) probably a month or so in to Ai's pregnancy. In the up-coming Chilli arc, the story dives into Okita's mind as she finally accepts what really happened to her.

[3]

Hope this covers it all! Apologies for the late reply and undisclosed-confusing lore

Thanks for the ask!

#mewtwo #newtwo #pokemon #art #art progression #answered ask #intense ask #dksgvz

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seoness · 11 months

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hey!! so i had a request: if the idea is interesting to you, how would the hound feel about falling for a powerful nobleman/monarch (maybe essosi?) who's chronically ill & has facial/body disfigurements from a birth defect?

sorry if this is too specific!! i've just been wondering how the hound would feel about essos & royalty and that big cultural gap, and i'm a self-indulgent (and disabled) hag who wants to hear about him having a disabled man as a partner, lol. whether you take this request or not, i love your writing, especially your characterization of sandor! keep up the good work!!

(Sandor Clegane x male!reader) Hi, if this was meant as a request for a fic then just holler at me again and I'll add you to the waiting list. Planning on plowing through them on my vacation. 🤗 Otherwise, here are my thoughts and rambles. Thank you for your kind words! Apologies for any spelling or grammatical errors, I'm trying to be less pedantic.

I just had to draw him acclimated to his new home. Relaxing and having a snack. I dunno what the dude's eating. A large plum? A red onion?

Let's begin with the setting:

We alter his canon. The Hound never became the Hound... well, not Joffrey's. Let the Lannisters have Gregor, there is gold to be had elsewhere. He's heard the tales. Listened as sailors regaled of spice merchants that could rival the riches within Casterly Rock, of princes, magistrates, and emperors worshiped as gods beyond the Jade Sea. One of them will have the need for good steel. As long as his master can point and his purse is full, they need not share the same tongue, Sandor's sword will speak for him. One of those many spice merchants, princes, magistrates, and emperors will be you.

How would it start?

Slowly. Regardless if he's aware and accepting of his bisexuality, he's not some fool desperate to lose his maidenhead. Especially if you're in control of the coin that pays for his wants and needs. His view of you will not be one that is kind. His world is a cruel one, and the life he's lived has been no different. In canon, Sandor tells Sansa (while joking about a traumatized and raped Lollys Stokeworth):

"...if you can't protect yourself, die and get out of the way of those who can..."

This is not a man that is considerate or empathetic by nature, which can be refreshing in its own right. He'll not eagerly bite the hands that feed him, but neither will he lie and say you didn't avoid his views on a technicality. It isn't your strong arms and steel that protect you. It is gold, and that gold has bought you his. This mindset applies to a wide spectrum of illnesses, ailments, disfigurement (that hinder physical performance), and disabilities. Sandor will wonder if you wanted his services because of his burn, that you see it like some sort of brotherhood. He'll not be completely open to the notion that you are clever enough to not pass on a good swordsman based on appearance. That you can see what more there is to Sandor Clegane than his scar and perhaps you hope he can show the same courtesy.

He won't.

Not at first. Your collaboration together will surround work and only work. You point, and the Hound goes. Sandor will start to pick up words here and there in your tongue. He knows and understands more than he lets on, but dislikes the chuckles whenever he speaks with a heavy Westerosi accent. The armor of dark plate will slowly switch to layered fabrics, chainmail, and pieces of plating (rather than a full set of plate). The once pale skin will darken under the Eastern sun. In Westeros, Sandor despised the showmanship of knights, but there is an honesty to how the Essosi deal with their gold and silk. It's not to boast of valor or honor, it is simple. Wealth. Gone are the comparing of lineages and legends of long-dead men, in Essos gold is everything.

As Sandor begins to adapt to his new surroundings, it won't be lost on the man that it's mostly due to you. You put down the time to explain your customs to him, you are the one ordering the many learned men to tutor your sellsword and you are the one that teaches the Hound what rules can be broken and which will cost him his head. Sandor isn't blind and he isn't ungrateful. His work is no longer a means to pay for his enjoyment, but something that brings him fulfillment in and of itself. He starts to devote time to learning more about you, your interests, and your past.

A good shield knows the one it guards.

That excuse will serve him well for a time. It's when his concern starts to shift that the man no longer can lie to himself. He can protect you from any danger heading your way. A madman with an axe, some assassins here and there, but the struggles that are your own? He knows shit about it. If the gods were true they sure as hells had no intention for him to be a maester.

Sod off

Sandor won't ask about it. He still doesn't want the reason for your friendship to be the brotherhood of the scarred and maimed. Your struggles are yours, his are his. There's no help in stealing the others. His growing care for you will show as the opposite, he'll ask less and seem more distant as you talk. The Hound will become more solitary overall, your servants tell you that he's stopped his usual route to the brothels. Sandor knows he should leave Essos. Gregor has lived for far too long. He'll pack once or twice, try and muster the will to tell you that he's leaving.

More excuses. The rest of your guard is too weak. Didn't that merchant give you an odd look at the last feast? Best stay a little longer, just until you're safe. If pressed too much during this period, the Hound might very well bite the hand that feeds him. He'd like the excuse of being sent away.

Sparks and relationship

When this strange friendship changes to romance is hard to say. He'll not be sober when he makes any deeper feelings known. A blunder. Something Sandor planned to keep his mouth shut about until he died. As a relationship begins to form between you, his support will grow into new areas. If someone rubs you the wrong way, he'll make a note and whisper an insult in your ear. He'll do that too many that trouble you. It's not a brotherhood, but he knows just how annoying it is to be surrounded by whispers and fleeting looks.

Sandor would have found joy in Essos, in your service, and unlike in his homeland, he would have been open that you were the man that he loved... you would have protected him from the hardships that await him.

#sandor clegane #sandor clegane x reader

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blackstarchanx3new · 10 months

Text

FSR rambles PT

PART. 3 BABY OF BEING CRINGY ABOUT MY OWN AU

LET'S GOOOOOO (Big send of too this chapter, holy shit)

Lol so like: One thing I didn't wanna do was suppress how much Zelda meant to Shadow Link's character arc for the sake of Vidow "Working".

Shadow Link does love Zelda FYI our mans is Bi. Idk if you noticed...but this whole comic is just polycule central there's no shipping wars, you can ship everyone basically. X'D

Zelda was a huge role in Shadow Link's character development to being a good boy, so it's only natural he's attached to her. (This will also be shown in the next chapter...Hehe)

Also the way his emotions around Vio are so charged that the best way he can put it to words is Vio is "Really cool" is like, so dumbly sweet. Bro can't properly even word how much he adores this man.

Shadow Link has made it no secret he wants to be buds with Vio for reals this time, and he's also 100% not interested in helping Gannon. So...There really ISN'T a reason Vio and him should have the same issues Vio was worried about. Thus, he tries to sooth Vio's fears.

*cough cough cough* gay. Shadow Link's so anxious about asking.

Lol so I got a "Writing rule" for Vio...He ain't gonna cry till I crack him completely like an egg. X'D He will get very close tho: Like this moment.

The way I put blush on the nose area specifically indicates someone's like, close to crying or is crying. I just like this face particularly because there's so much shit going on in that head of his.

The start of the hug is so damn awkward (Intentionally so)

These panels mean so much to meeeeeeee-

Everything about em

The hug, Vio's so close his face is squished (He's so adorable.)

Shadow Link doesn't immediately hug him back he's stunned.

Hehehehe. Vidow go brrrrr..

This entire page is just: PAIN.

Shadow breaks the hug to show him the book.

The wording leaves it so ya can't help but think he hoped the introducing of their friendship would change Vio's mind about being Link again...That his words earlier were just mad ramblings and not how he actually felt. But with a clear head Vio verbally says he still wants to be Link again.

Lmao bro tries not to crack again aaaaand fails.

The book is one about healing magic...What kinds are in there I wonder. ;) A refrence...to a past Selda game mayhaps?~

Also this frame of Shadow Link full blown ugly crying while pretending to be fine is so hilarious to me idk if it comes off as sad or funny but it's kinda both to me. X'D

Mans is crying for him and Vio at this point.

Vio putting the book down in favor of comforting Shadow Link is just kinda one of those things that like, if he had ignored Shadow Link the reader would have noticed, but him being like, decent is smth that isn't nearly as "noticeable" (Like, ya typically notice a character being shitty WAY MORE than you notice all the subtle things they do that are just, kind.)

Also Shadow still wants to be helpful even though he's like, sobbing his eyes out. X'D

He also tries to hide from Vio lmao. Vio saw the water works bro.

Quite a few things:

Shadow's still toxic, just a little. X'D He WANTS Vio around, he misses him like crazy and does not want him to leave, AT ALL. This is very obvious lmao.

But he's also at the point where he knows he can do better than just screaming and throwing tantrums like he did as a kid. But his true feelings about how betrayed he feels Vio still wants to be Link are STILL THERE. Even if he chooses to try and hide them.

Also funny detail: Vio blushing was a lowkey gag because of the whole "They're both attracted to red flags" joke.

You could also take it as him being scared shitless, which he IS.

While he can't take back snapping at Vio, he certainly realizes his mistake very quickly and apologizes. So that's SOMETHING at least. (Considering the type of person he was before, a relapse or two is expected lmao.) I think him still having a certain level of anger management issues makes his character overall more interesting.

I like to think the only reason Vio gave him any patience for that, was because Shadow Link has been nothing but patient and there for him all night and he knows Shadow is emotional as fuck.

As Vio gave him shit for the fight with Blue earlier showed, Vio doesn't tolerate Shadow's crap when he's just being a violent shithead.

Hahaha. Remember when Link outright stated Vio wanted to be Vio and not Link. :) Link sure is a way more reliable narrator than...idk...The guy who lies...

*Whispers gently into your ear* Vio's not being very truthful here...

Notice: He only. ONLY brings up "Logical" reason...not his actual FEELINGS on the matter... He SAYS "I don't want to be Vio"

WHY. WHY!? TELL US WHY VIO!!!

He does have a reason but he's not tellin' lmao.

So, in the book it's not really...SPECIFIED where Shadow Link came from? Like I think all it says is "Gannon drew him out of the dark mirror"

...THAT IS SO UP FOR INTERPRETATION AND BRINGS UP SO MANY QUESTIONS:

Did he have a life in the dark world and was just, TOLD to do Gannon's bidding? His line of "I'm your living reflection in the dark world" MAYBE supports this idea...??? KINDA?

But my issue with that is: Shadow Link gives NO indication he has had a past in the dark world, like...at all. Nothing. No mention of family (Which...Reasonably wouldn't he have a dark version of Link's father???) He's the ONLY PERSON who's implied to be FROM the dark world. Also...The dark mirror isn't REALLY implied to be a PORTAL... The seal on Vaati and his demons was, but Shadow Link wasn't freed from that, Gannon "Drew him from the dark mirror" to release Vaati...So uh...HMMMM His also distinct lack of his OWN name kinda makes me go ???? Like...His NAME is Shadow Link...Like that's not a nickname. That's his NAME. (Like this just weirds me out because of a cannon "Reflection" of Link: in Ravio. Who like...HAS HIS OWN NAME???? ik Ravio isn't from the "Dark world", he's from Lowrule, but point still stands this is odd.)

Suffice to say, there's just not enough info here to draw a conclusion for me? So I gotta make shit up. X'D Shadow Link was created out of Link's Shadow by Gannon in FSR. This is also the reason he resembles a Gerudo male. Cause Gannon said "Mm yes, my evil Link sona will have my heritage. UwU"

Shadow link realizing he almost made Vio cry is so funny to me.

Vio looks so fucking pathetic there. lmfao.

Shadow's words only hit again like Link has stated: Shadow knows Vio

Whether intentionally or not: what he says hits Vio like a ton of bolders.

He's very hesitant to keep talking though because he doesn't want to hurt Vio either.

It's like, he's AWARE he's telling Vio this shit because he WANTS him to stay, but you also can't deny Shadow's at least CORRECT in a lot of his statements. How far should he push that though? Hmm.

His "Oh my god you're an idiot" face is hilarious. Shadow's like "You still don't get what I'm laying down dude??? REALLY!?"

*Explodes*

Lmao. That panel before they kiss is basically my favorite in the entire comic rn. X'D

Shadow pulling away and squishing Vio's face is also a favorite. Vio's just cute and squishable.

Vio stating the obvious: That his mental breakdown wasn't Shadow's fault. (Wasn't really anybody's fault it was inevitable, especially with the curse/Dark Link active)

Lmao. Vio's kinda dumb as bricks sometimes too. X'D

Shadow Link's fucking deadpan stare while Vio rants is so hilarious to me. Also the direct quoting of Vio instead of paraphrasing making his statement sound even more stupid.

Also fun dialogue thing: You'll notice the characters stutter or like, pause weirdly, Because I like writing dialogue a little more realistic. Like Shadow Starts off as "I-was" instead of like "W-was" like he thought of saying smth completely different at first or his mouth moved before his brain did. X'D

Their banter is fun, Vio's his sassy self. Shadow giving him all the kisses we desired...

Okay ngl this page hurts me X'D Like. Ouch. All of it hurts.

Because of how Link kinda abandoned Shadow Link (Even though he was always there) Shadow is OBVIOUSLY very hesitant to let go. It's super obvious Vio doesn't wanna let go either.

Also Vio kissing him back surprises Shadow. X'D He's still bamboozled Vio is receptive to his affection oof... (Would like to show him getting more comfy with it as the comic goes on like "Holy shit, nah he's not playing around with me he fr-")

They mean so much to each other. QuQ

Okay to make you laugh in these very serious panels: Because Shadow's floating Vio's standing on his tip toes.

On that note, can't wait to see yall for the next chapter, whenever I get around to it. X'D

#Four Swords returns #FSR rambles #loz fsr au #fsr au #LOZ AU #four swords adventures #four swords manga #shadow link #Vio Link #Vio #Vidow

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mountainscouts · 1 year

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stary ideas ….. i feel like gary brings out the best in stan and makes him want to be a better person, while stan brings out the “worst” in gary by irritating him or something, haha.

just imagine stan being his usual self, and gary suddenly bursting out something like “god, will you just can it already!?” and then going on a large rant about how he doesn’t know how someone can be so self-absorbed, etc… and stan being… possibly completely enamored with this. idk, just think about it. thoughts ? would be fun to write about or just daydream of lol.

i would love to hear about what you think of their dynamic, though ! i really enjoy longer discussions on characters and their relationships with others, just because of how subjective and interpretive it is, therefore being more interesting.

i absolutely LOVE character/relationship analysis, honestly. like, urgh, yes this is south park but god sometimes the base personalities of these characters could be so interpretive like you said.

i also love this idea tbh, it totally coincides with how i picture their dynamic to be. stan definitely is inspired by gary to be a better person with how charitable of a person he is and how much hope he has in stan that stan cant say he has for himself. i feel like stan lacks plenty ambition and is relatively go-with-the-flow later on to a detriment, and gary can act as some sort of stable anchor in his life. it's no question that stan would put gary on some sort of pedestal, but not out of acute resentment or hardcore adoration— but because of the their differences between them. in due time, i'm sure stan will realize his worth with the help of gary. but of course he will never stop being in awe of him and his actions. there will almost always be some sort of dissonance between the two, but because of how much they connect, they will work through it.

now for gary showing his "worst" around stan. i think i understand what you mean. gary, to me, is someone who was raised to stay composed and calm. those traits are very inherent to his nature, but his patience rarely ever runs thin— which may sound nice, but it's not. being taught that rash & negative emotions were bad, and to keep those emotions at bay, definitely damaged his psyche. he probably doesn't allow himself to get mad, and when he does— it's a whole thing for him.

imagine they get into an argument about stan's character, like you said, and gary bursts out at stan in similar vein to the piece of dialogue you wrote. stan is definitely caught off guard by gary's anger because it's just so rare of him to lash out like that. he's definitely mesmerized. it honestly parallels to the end of s7012, where gary tells stan how it is while he just stands there like :o

stan at that moment, would know he fucked up badly. and as much as hes shit at diffusing a situation, the need to make things right is more apparent than ever. obviously, stan can't change overnight and with the flip of a dime, but its situations like this where that aforementioned inspiration to be better comes from. while this may sound twisted, gary ends up appreciating what stan does for him— including getting him that angry.

that may sound... weird... but gary definitely has problems about showing how he truly feels, and while stan may bring out the "worst" in him, he knows that these intense emotions are from a place of deeply caring about stan and wanting to see him get better. of course, the two end up apologizing but i can imagine after their conversation gary goes, "thank you for being one of the only real things in my life." or something like that. idk.

#ask #wow thags long #also i just realized wendy said that to stan in the chat gpt episode so its kinda funny to say that gary would also say that #while also talking to stan #it wasnt intentional #anyways I hope this makes sense ish #sp stary

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wra1thguards · 3 months

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Hello Mia, just wanna tell you I love Galis very much <3 and I love dad Galis, too. Is that mean Fehn is a demigod? Or she is adopted? Do they hang out a lot on Nirn? Or on the Isles?

hi!!! i’m so happy that you like galis, and thank you so much for the question! i love talking about my characters lol. i’m going to try to explain this to the best of my ability, but my personal canon and timeline is VERY messy so you might have to bear with me a bit. 😅

this also turned into a bit of a long explanation, so i put it under a cut. i apologize in advance haha

fehn appeared to and was adopted by galis and martin sometime near the end of the third era. since this is the case, galis and fehn’s canon is contingent upon some sort of martin lives au (but not for long lmao) OR an au where the oblivion crisis lasted for at least a couple decades, so fehn has time to grow up. i’m imagining that fehn was no older than a toddler when martin approached galis with her like “hey akatosh is giving us this baby” and galis was like “um………?”

anyway fehn grows up, they do a great job being dads all things considered. (though not without its flaws, fehn and galis generally had an excellent relationship. he taught her how to fight and how to survive out in the world) and when fehn’s around 25, martin mantles akatosh and (as is his fate) dies.

galis is devastated by this loss and cannot cope with it, and he begins spiraling hard. while losing martin is the catalyst to his descent into madness, the fear of losing fehn (who they believe to be dragonborn) to a similar fate is another thing that keeps him spiraling downwards.

naturally, he more or less falls into the influence of sheogorath. both out of fear of losing fehn, and, like, his rampant desire for control over the narrative, he freezes fehn in time by putting her in this magic amber in a tomb in morrowind somewhere. this keeps fehn in state where she doesn’t age and just sleeps until galis or someone breaks her free of it.

galis kills the elder council and takes other strides to violently destabilize the empire (what’s the point of any of this without martin, after all), then shivering isles events take place. galis mantles sheogorath and comes up with a plan to drag akatosh back to nirn and kill him and/or rip martin free of him. whatever that means. he believes that fehn is the key to this, and that he can use her to get akatosh to manifest back on nirn, but he needs to wait for the opportune time for it.

4e201 comes around and the dragon crisis begins. sheo!galis finds out about the ldb prophecy and finds this to be perfect time to unleash fehn upon the world to be the one to fulfill that prophecy. there’s that idea of soul-stacking in tes, right? if fehn absorbs enough dragon souls, she grows closer to akatosh, she can find a way to summon him, galis kills him and gets what he wants. after he kills akatosh, he wants to put fehn and martin in a fake universe that he has absolute control of where nothing bad ever happens ever but that’s neither here nor there.

the whole fehn being trapped in magic amber for 200 years thing feels kind of silly when i state it, but i also think it’s interesting how this lets her mirror serana and also, in a way, miraak. i also don’t think she’s _actually_ the one the prophecy spoke of (it was miraak’s “fate” to kill alduin in my canon but he fumbled so fucking badly), but by galis’s design and her being dragonborn, she was able to complete it.

i’m so sorry this got so long. thank you so much for being interested (and reading this!) and i hope you have a wonderful day!

#i have so many more thoughts on this but i had to cut myself off for the love of god LOL i’m SO sorry this got so long #asks #babyblueetbaemonster

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packedandstrapped · 6 months

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Hello, I hope this is ok to send you. If not, I apologize and you can totally ignore me. I know you're not the spokesperson for butches all over the world lol, but I was hoping I could get your perspective? Advice? Insight? Not really sure, but something. So, I'm not a lesbian, I consider myself queer but if someone wanted to call me bi or pan I'd be fine with that too. Basically, gender isn't the most important thing to me. Anyways, moving on. I find myself attracted to butches, like heart skips a beat and feel flustered attracted, but from stuff I see and read, I get the feeling that most would not be interested in a bi/pan/queer woman. I know I could be completely wrong though, which is why I'm sending this. And I'm sure there definitely are butches who wouldn't be, but maybe it's not as much as I'm thinking? I'm also paranoid that people might think I'm only attracted to butches because I'm also attracted to men and butches are "like men" (I don't think this, but some might) but that's not the case at all. In my opinion, butch masculinity is very different from cis-male masculinity and I am attracted to both in very different ways. Ugh, I don't know if I'm even making sense but I hope I am. It's only been the last few years that I've been allowed to finally think about and acknowledge this part of myself and so it's all still new for me, and I'm still learning, and I guess I just feel very lost. Any feedback you could give would be very much appreciated and I apologize for the long ask.

Oh darling, this is so cute. I think most femmes I know do not label themselves as strictly lesbian. I’m not saying none do, but I find Bi and Pan labels to be far more common that straight up lesbian. So don’t worry about that piece of what you call yourself. I understand how butchness and masculinity can be attractive in folks that don’t exactly identify with our subculture but you don’t have to identify with a particular label to understand the appreciation.

To be honest, I personally would be apprehensive to enter a romantic relationship with a person who intentionally seeks and dates cis-men. Bi and Pan folks can be attracted to a wide spectrum of people within our community and I fully appreciate and support that gradient. But as a butch, cis-men are not part of my inner circle and not people I want to share my culture or my lovers with. I don’t think that’s necessarily true for all butches but it’s worth acknowledging that some of us will have boundaries there. Some of us have been told our whole lives that we’re the wrong kind of woman and not enough man, so naturally some of us are sensitive to any kind of comparison there.

One of the things I love most about femmes is the care and intention they put into the effort to channel desire directly from butches. This looks different and comes off as mildly inauthentic when it’s done in part for the male gaze as well. This isn’t to say there aren’t folks that attract both butches and men, but it’s a different approach.

I love this question and your desire to know more- I hope my honesty isn’t offensive.

#anon #bi pan anon

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helloheyhihowdyheya · 2 years

Text

Take a Chance | college!au | (p.2)

Peter Parker x reader

Part one

Masterlist

Summary: You have a routine. It may seem boring to some, but you like it. Until, some honey-eyed boy comes along to mess it all up, but maybe you like him too. Maybe.

Word count: ~4.2k

Warnings: Reader is referred to by she/her pronouns. Some second-hand embarrassment lol

A/N: Thank you for the likes on my first chapter. I hope you guys like this one too. Let me know if there are any mistakes, and thanks for reading!

You finally flip through the last page, just about to put your things away and make your way back to your dorm when you see a shadow lay across the table. You look up to see a familiar smile.

“Do you ever read anything besides The Great Gatsby?” Peter asks with a teasing grin.

You tense at his words. It was hard enough to focus with him away, but now that he’s standing in front of you? There’s no chance as you settle back into your seat. “Well, I would’ve finished reading this a lot faster if your handwriting wasn’t so illegible,” you quip back with a smile just as wide.

His eyebrows raise, eyes widening as he apologizes. “I completely forgot I even did that. But I really liked a lot of what you wrote. Honestly, that’s the most I’ve really paid attention to an assigned reading before.”

You wave him off. “Oh, it’s no problem. You seem to get the themes of this book. Better than I get them apparently,” you grumble.

He frowns at your response. “But your thoughts in the book made a lot of sense.”

You sigh, “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t all there when doing the discussion. Just an off day.” You quickly decide against telling him what led to you feeling so out of it.

Peter starts talking more about the book and your ideas he liked. He stands above you with a backpack on and tray in his hands. You don’t want to make him stand the whole time so you motion towards the seat across from you, and he sits down without missing a word. You assume he’s trying to help you out with the discussion questions, or just trying to distract you from it.

Your conversation naturally shifts to getting to know each other, and your body relaxes a bit more. He’s a biology major, which seems pretty fitting. You learn about his friends back home, Ned and MJ. And about his love for Star Wars and everything nerdy. He’s even got a knowledge bowl competition this weekend — you didn’t even know your college had one of those.

He nearly shoves his dinner into his mouth while listening intently to you talk about your interests and major, seeming much more focused than he’s ever been in class.

You appreciate his focus, but how can someone eat so much in such a short amount of time? It seemed he grabbed two of everything in the dining hall. It is honestly impressive. As the conversation continues, you feel more comfortable talking to him, even ending up stealing a couple of his fries off his tray while talking — he tries protesting, but his mouth is too full of burgers. By the time he’s finished eating, you’ve put away your food, ready to head back to your room. You enjoy talking with him, but you already stayed here longer than you had planned.

He puts his stuff away as well, walking back to you. “Hey, I was thinking I could walk you back to your dorm since it’s getting kinda late.”

You look out of the dining hall’s windows quirking an eyebrow. “Peter, the sun hasn’t even gone down yet.”

“Yeah…well, I know that. But it’ll be going down soon,” he says with a sheepish smile. You notice his fingers playing with the edge of his sleeves again, the threads wearing a bit from the repeated stress.

“I wouldn’t mind having someone to walk back with. Though I hope it’s not too out of the way for you. I’m in Anderson Hall.”

“Oh no, it’s okay. I’m in Crawford so it’s not a bad walk. Not that I was really worried about that.”

You smile, happy your day has gotten better. You two begin walking across campus while talking about random things. He tells you a story about somehow accidentally locking himself out of his window while on the fire escape, just in his boxers. You laugh so hard you have to walk a bit slower to catch your breath.

“How does that even happen, Peter? You probably scarred some poor grandma walking by,” you laugh out.

He can’t stop a splitting smile from spreading across his face, chuckling along with you. “Hey, our windows would get stuck sometimes, and that was just my unlucky time.”

“Wait, wait, wait. What were you even doing on the fire escape in your underwear in the first place?” You ask, squinting your eyes at him.

He lets out a few breathless laughs, trying to find the words. “Well, that’s a whole different story. For another time.”

“What! You can’t just leave me hanging,” you say. When he shakes his head, mouth zipped shut, you declare, “I’ll get it out of you one day, Peter.”

In your slowed walk, you notice both of your laugh-filled breaths forming in the chilling air. The sun has started disappearing behind the horizon now, creating a spotlight of warm colors across the sky. You let your eyes unfocus, making them blend together in a beautiful painting.

The trees match the sunset, the leaves just as fiery and beautiful as before. How can something as sad as the death of a tree’s leaves dying look so pretty? Peaceful even.

Peter notices you staring at the colorful leaves and stops walking. He asks, “Are you cold at all?”

“No, not really.”

“Good.”

He takes off his backpack to dig through it. You allow yourself a couple minutes to wait a bit, knowing how long it will take him to stop searching given his inability to find things quickly in his bottomless bag. He eventually pulls out a nice film camera to your surprise.

He points it at the trees, shifting around to get different angles of them. He tries some close-up photos and others that seem to play with the sunlight. “I can send them to you after I get them developed. I think they’re going to look really cool.”

You agree to his idea, knowing the pictures would look better than ones you could take on your phone. Maybe the quality would be better with his camera. Maybe, though, his photos would hold better memories.

He looks back to you, seeming to take in your whole form. “Here, stand in front of the trees,” he says.

“Oh, no that’s okay. I could take a picture of you though,” you suggest with warm cheeks. “The colors compliment your hair well.”

“C’mon. Just one?” he asks, holding up one finger and a convincing smile. “You don’t even need to look at the photo if you don’t want to. I can keep it.”

You pause, unsure of what he means. Does he just want to keep a picture of you with him? You eventually agree, trying to clear those confusing thoughts from your head. You’re letting him take a photo of you just to stop his nagging. Right.

You stand in front of the trees, apprehensive in your movements. Does he want you to pose? Your hands fidget with the hem of your coat, your internal rambling picking up speed — all of which are interrupted by a bird chirping above you. You look up to see a cardinal hopping from branch to branch. Its feathers ruffle against the leaves, making a beautiful sunset of colors wave back and forth. It points its eyes towards you, tilting its head in jerky movements. It gives a last chirp before flying off to another tree.

You hear a couple clicks and look back at Peter. He’s still taking pictures of you. “Hey, you said only one picture!” you tell him.

“Would you believe me if I said it does that because I’ve dropped it a few too many times?” You cross your arms, shaking your head at him. “Well, then I’ll come clean and say I couldn’t help myself. I took some really beautiful pictures.”

You think your cheeks have to match the cardinal by now and come back towards him. “Can we actually start walking to the dorm now?”

“Yeah, yeah. Let me just put this away.” You start walking ahead, taking in the rolling clouds as a gust of wind passes. It’s just loud enough in your ears that you don’t hear Peter take one last picture of you.

You catch him looking at you out of the corner of your eye when he catches back up. There’s a silence hanging in the air between you two as you approach your dorm, though it surprisingly doesn’t feel awkward. When you reach the door, he starts stumbling over his words again, finally saying, “Y’know, I actually have a lot of good digital pictures too. I could send them to you if you want.”

You look at him fully this time, and you attempt to stop the grin trying to spread across your face. “Are you asking for my number?”

“Oh, well, I mean…I didn’t mean it that way. I just thought I could also ask you my millions of questions about The Great Gatsby since you seem-”

“Peter, I’m just kidding. Here, put your number into my phone.” You open up the contacts in your phone, handing it over to him. He lets out a sigh of relief, quickly typing his number and reading over it again to make sure it was right.

“Thank you for walking me back. Hope your treacherous walk home is safe. It’s nearly dark out, in 45 minutes,” you joke. He gives a small laugh. “See you in class Tuesday?” You ask, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. Usually, he’s all over the place, eyes darting every which way. But his gaze is on you, and you find it hard to look straight at him. Were they always so warm, like glazed honey?

“Uh yeah, s’no problem at all. I’ll see you Tuesday,” he says with a short nod. He gives a small wave and turns around towards his dorm as you enter the building.

You let out a long breath, the only noise in the hallway besides your shoes thudding against the floor. Did that really happen? This whole night has been so…unusual.

Lilly isn’t back in the room yet, but you’re not that surprised since you didn’t spend that much time out eating dinner. You almost wish you had been out longer, partly because then Lilly would be back and you could get back into the swing of things…and partly because you could’ve stayed and talked to Peter longer for a change of scenery. What is going on with you?

You pull up your phone while also putting Netflix on your laptop. You choose a show you’ve seen plenty of times just to have on in the background. The characters’ voices blend into the back of your mind when you open the contacts app. Your thumb hovers over Peter’s name, almost wanting to already talk to him again.

Before that thought gets too far, your door opens and Lilly walks in, setting her backpack down with a sigh. You feel your heart quiet down a little and ask, “Hey, how’d your group project go?”

“Good, I guess. She’s pretty cool, so we ended up not being super productive…” she says with a sheepish smile. “It was fun though. What’d you get up to tonight?”

“Oh,” you start to say. You chew on the inside of your mouth, debating telling her about Peter. You don’t want to make a big deal out of anything, especially if he’s not. “Just went to the dining, saw a classmate from English and we talked about our assigned reading for a bit. Nothing special.”

She nods, a bit distracted as she’s unpacking her backpack. “That sounds good…hey, I don’t feel like doing any more homework, or thinking, tonight. Wanna watch a movie?”

You smile, happy to have your evening back on the rails. You go over and settle next to her, your phone long forgotten. You fire up a movie with a content sigh.

Over the weekend, you work through assignment through presentation through essay, and on to the next thing. Usually, this would be start and finish, done and done. But a certain smart, yet persistently lovely boy keeps worming his way into your head. He even works his influence into the outline for your essay, thinking back to your conversation with him as you plot out your topic points.

It gets bad enough that you just watch the cursor blinking on the sparse page document, your mind unable to keep working. Though you don’t really need the help, just tired from writing, it certainly couldn’t hurt to text Peter to ask him about the essay…maybe it’ll inspire something.

You pull up his contact again, this time finding the courage to type out a message a bit easier. “Hey, Peter! Hope your competition going well :) I was hoping to talk about your ideas for the essay”

You send it off, reading over it and over again. You decide to send another text quick in case he didn’t know it was you: “And maybe I can give you ideas too, if you tell me how you ended up on the fire escape ;)”

You turn back to your computer, needing something to distract yourself from the neves of texting him for the first time. Not expecting a reply for a while since he’s at that knowledge bowl, you turn towards Lilly who’s working on her own classes. It looks like she’s sketching a landscape scene. Man, she’s good at that stuff.

You’re about to unashamedly interrupt her for a break when your phone buzzes. It’s Peter. Of course it’s him, you just texted him a couple of minutes ago. But still, you somehow weren’t expecting it so quickly.

“Seems a bit bold to ask for *my* ideas and then offer your own in exchange for top-secret information lol”

Another text: “I have a little bit of time before I have to go back on stage for the next game, but here’s a pic of some notes!”

You’re taken aback a little that he’s already written up notes for this essay given his busy weekend. You can’t help but raise your eyebrows a bit when the picture comes through. It wasn’t a screenshot of a Word doc…it was handwritten notes that appear to be on the back of a piece of paper. Did he just scribble that out right now? In between competitions just because you asked? You hadn’t even asked a specific question.

You shake your head as a small smile reaches your face. Some of the points were ones you two talked about (and already incorporated into the outline), but others were pretty helpful. There were some that you couldn’t make out between the strange lighting and illegible handwriting, which you decide to tell him.

“I can’t tell if I’d be more impressed if you just wrote that out or if that’s a picture of a very advanced toddler’s notes”

He responds almost immediately. “Ha ha very funny. You’re the one that asked for my help…I can take my beautiful calligraphy and leave, where it will be appreciated :P”

Though he types like a grandpa, you’re thankful for the emoji, knowing he’s just teasing. “Like a preschool? Jk thank you for the ideas! How’s the competition going?”

You two go back and forth. You’re glad he gave you some ideas to further your essay, but your laptop hasn’t been touched in a while with your face and giggles glued to your phone.

He describes the knowledge bowl (in excruciating detail), but he seems to be loving it. Their team keeps winning against others, on track to win the whole competition. He asks about your plans and week. You tell him about Lilly, how her birthday is coming up, and how artistically talented she is. You send your Bob Ross inspired painting to him. His response is much nicer than Lilly’s was, though you wonder how much that’s because he just doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.

He soon has to go as his team is going back on stage soon. You wish him luck and let out a sigh as you turn back to your taunting document waiting to be written, a little disappointed it hadn’t completed itself in the meantime... So much for getting Peter out of your head.

As Tuesday comes around, for once, you find yourself excited for “English Literature & Composition.” There seems to be a pattern of Peter leaving little things at your desk. But as you enter the classroom and look at your seat, you notice someone sitting there.

You recognize him as a guy that usually sits with the other athletes in the dining hall, his bright blond hair sticking out in the crowds. You think you remember him when they announced the school’s swim team winning, but honestly, they all kind of look similar.

You walk over there, trying to peak at the space to see if Peter’s left you anything just in case. But you don’t see him in his regular spot. You guess he’s back to his usual tardiness. You sit near the guy, and there’s nothing on the desk (not even a notebook, you notice).

You try not to pay too much attention to the way your shoulders slump or the mild frown on your face, instead returning to your trusty routine. As the professor begins lecturing on the societal implications of capitalism as laid out in The Great Gatsby, you start your regular margin doodles.

Before you can sketch some beautiful masterpiece on the college-ruled lines, you hear a voice whisper, “Hey, so I haven’t actually read the book. How likely is it that I could just pay half attention in class and half-ass the essay?”

You turn towards the man that asked you the question. He’s reclined back into the uncomfortable plastic chair, chewing on a piece of gum with loud smacks. He looks to you with raised eyebrows and a half-smile, clearly not too interested in an actual answer. What is it about you that brings disruptive boys your way?

“Honestly? I think you could BS it enough to not fail, but not much better than that. I’ve heard she grades these essays pretty hard.”

He scoffs, though you’re not sure if it’s at the professor’s grading or at your low expectations of his unparalleled ability to scrape his way through class. “Okay, fine. Could you give me a quick play-by-play of what happens in this book then?” he asks.

You laugh, but your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. “Um, we’re in the middle of class. Maybe later? But there is also Google that might help you,” you tell him, hoping that’d get you out of this conversation.

“But I don’t know what her lecture’s even about. Just give me a quick explanation so I can get through this class and that’s it.”

He’d probably understand the lecture if he had at least looked it up on Sparknotes by now…You sigh, resigning yourself to flipping through your notebook to find the summary notes you wrote after finishing the whole book. You slide it over to him with a tight-lipped smile and bring your attention back to the professor.

As if right on cue, the classroom doors open and in walks Peter, holding something rectangular in his hands. He doesn’t look your way at all, instead giving a small nod to the teacher as he quietly slides into his regular spot.

A gasp next to you takes your focus away from Peter, something you’re not sure if you’re grateful for or not. The athlete traces his finger across the pages as he reads your notes. “Bro, Daisy did what? And she’s not even gonna take the fall for it? That’s wild,” he says with a level of awe that makes you laugh.

He looks at you with a puzzled expression. You answer his unspoken question before he can ask, whispering, “Yeah, this book has some interesting plot twists. It might be a bit late to read it all before the essay this Thursday, but maybe you could finish it after. The bookstore lets you keep it until the end of the semester.”

He slowly nods, looking between you and the paper. “Uh yeah, I’m probably not gonna read this shit. The story seems fine, especially the murder part’s insane. Thanks for the notes though.”

His brutal honesty makes you laugh again. You cover your mouth to quiet your voice. He flashes you a smile that would probably be more charming if he wasn’t such a jock. You take your notebook back, turning away from him to finally focus on class.

However, a second later, your eyes drift to Peter. Your heart jumps a little to find him already staring at you, or was it at the guy next to you? You’re not sure, but you offer him a smile and small wave. He just returns it with a nod as short and impersonal as the one he gave the professor before turning back towards the front of the classroom.

You frown at the back of his head — perhaps if you squint hard enough, you might be able to hear what’s going on in his mind. Once again, you find Peter distracting you as your thoughts wander.

You look back to him as soon as your professor wraps up class, but he’s already put away his things and up out of his seat. By the time you close your notebook, he’s standing right next to your desk. If he’s aware of the shocked look on your face, he doesn’t show it. Instead, his mouth presses tight before mumbling, “Here, thought you might like this.”

You look down at the thing he places on the desk before you. It’s a postcard that says “Wish You Were Here!” in front of a watercolor painting of a forest. You turn it around in your hands with furrowed eyebrows, not quite sure what he means by this.

You’re about to ask him what this is about when you see it. The trees scatter across the postcard in a very familiar way — it’s nearly identical to the reference video painting you used while following along to Bob Ross. It looks like a much nicer version of your painting that you sent a picture to him… He remembered the crappy painting you spent just a couple minutes texting about and bought a postcard because it made him think of you.

Peter, while all of these thoughts were running through your head, starts fidgeting and looks like he’s ready to burst. He doesn’t notice the growing smile on your face. “It’s okay if you don’t like it. It just looked so much like your cool painting so I thought I’d bring you back something from the competition,” he says, his words beginning to tumble out of his mouth. “It was only 99 cents so it really wasn’t much. I’m sorry, I could’ve bought you something more, or maybe I can just buy your drinks at the campus cafe for the rest of the semester…”

You’re ready to put him out of his misery and tell him that you love it when a snort beside you interrupts.

“Bro, you gotta chill. Who cares if she likes it or not? She was staring at the back of your head the whole class as soon as you came in,” the jock next to you says before grabbing his empty backpack and heading out of the classroom. He claps Peter on the back as he passes, making him stumble a bit closer to your desk.

Your mouth opens and closes, your face growing hotter as every excruciatingly slow second goes by. Peter tries hiding a smile against his shoulder, looking away from you. You’re glad he’s letting you off the hook a little bit, but he pushes that hook back in when he looks right in your eyes with his dumb grin and says, “Yeah?” with a cocked eyebrow.

You turn back to packing your things away to avoid him, but you can feel his gaze against your skin. You keep your voice steady and tell him, “I was going to say you’re lucky that I like the postcard so that you don’t have to buy me any drinks, but I take that back. You’re buying every one of my drinks for a week to make up for this whole conversation.” You still feel the heat on your cheeks, but you can’t help but let out a small laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

He ducks his head for a moment and says, “It’s a deal then. As long as I can start buying you drinks today, on our way to the library together?”

You look back to him, afraid you’ll be the one stumbling over your words so you just ask, “Right now?” He nods, bringing his gaze back to you, and you’re not sure there’s anyone else in the room anymore. The moment breaks as your professor clears her throat, making you pack up your things and walk out of the classroom with sheepish smiles.

You two make your way across campus, your steps feeling slow and in sync with his, and unknowingly, he’s begun unraveling your carefully crafted routine one thread at a time. Maybe you could get used to it, and used to his lopsided grin that makes it seem okay.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #tom holland #tom holland peter parker #college au #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker fluff

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