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spacedace · 8 months

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Reluctant War AU Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

More of the brain worm that has taken me over, gonna probably post it to Ao3 here before too long. Already got another part started and so many ideas for additional stuff, someone please send help I've been consumed by this thing lol

Sorry if Waller seems out of character, outside of fandom I'm mostly familiar with her through Justice League the animated show & Justice League: Unlimited and her vibe there has always struck me as "deeply incredibly unlikable character that also kind of has a point but also has done so much fucked up shit in the name of her goals that you don't really care about her point anymore." So you know, complicated lol. If she's completely unrecognizable let me know, but I'm hoping she feels at least somewhat like Waller.

Forgot to say this in the last update, but still feel free to use all this as an overly long prompt if yall want. Literally anything I throw out to the void should be treated as a prompt lol If there's anything at all interesting to you in any of this nonsense go for it <3 <3 <3

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Amanda Waller was someone who did what needed to be done.

Ruthless, heartless, vicious, cruel.

She’d been called it all. Wore the words thrown as insults as a badges of pride and valor. Because at the end of the day, when it came to the problems she was given to face, the issues she was meant to solve, those words meant she’d done what others had been too squeamish or cowardly to do. Life was a never ending slog of trolley problems and she the only one unshakable enough to pull the levers that needed pulling.

It wasn’t so simple as a matter of greater good.

Greater good was what the weak willed muttered to themselves after having feelings over doing the bare minimum. A justification used by people on all sides to do what they wanted with fractured, faulty logic thrown around like truth was a thing immutable. To assuage their guilt when they were forced to make a call they didn’t want to.

It wasn’t a matter of greater good. It was a matter of preservation. Of protection. Of digging through the filth to find the threats skittering beneath and crush them with ruthless abandon. Of facing a god and not blinking because if you did it could cost the world.

Of doing what needed to be done, no matter how underhanded or atrocious it was.

Hands dirty.

Hands red.

Hands wrapped tight around the throat of something that could threaten to destroy it all.

When the Ghost Investigation Ward had been shoved her way with it’s sucking wound of a budget, it’s bloated incompetent staff, its asinine methods she’d seen a rotted limb in need of hacking off. It hadn’t been until she’d been conducting her inspection, digging through the trash for a few pearls of effective agents she could snatch up and put to work elsewhere, that she’d truly seen what they were working on. The potential.

Potential to better arm themselves with in the forms of the strange new weapons being created.

Potential for threats far greater than anything even she had thought possible before.

The GIW as it had been when she’d first come across it was a fetid waste of time and resources. A laughing stock agency only secret because no one took them seriously enough to look. Made stupid and useless with its own conceited delusions of importance it didn’t actually have. Yet.

She went to work on it. Hacking away as she’d originally intended, but this time with a different goal in mind. She ripped out the weeds with bare, calloused hands and planted proficiency and loyalty in their place. She took over as director herself, tossing the self-aggrandizing fool that had been running the place into the ground to the dogs as the culprit for misappropriate spendings, saving the agency by tweaking things until their ballooning budget was pinned neatly onto the former director as an embezzling charge.

Then she got to work.

The Fentons were brilliant, if entirely insane. But Amanda could work with that. She’d reigned Harley Quinn in - more or less - she could do the same to the two deranged scientists that so eagerly wanted to be apart of the fight against the dead. Especially when the benefit came in the form of the inventions they threw together so easily, especially when those inventions were weapons.

It took very little to get them on board with her plans for the GIW. Keeping their focus could be a chore, at times, but she didn’t even have to really do much in the way of pressing to get them back where she wanted them. They craved knowledge and understanding nearly as much as they craved the eradication of the entities themselves. Letting them have the first look at a new subject here, free reign over a vivisection there, it took so little to fuel their fervor and keep them busy working on the projects she set for them.

Things had been going smoothly.

For a time at least.

Until Phantom.

He’d been the main focus of the previous director’s attention, the big fish he’d so desperately wanted to catch and put up on his wall. Amanda wouldn’t lie and say it wasn’t a tempting prospect, but not one she’d put above the other projects she had set in motion since taking over. No, Phantom was powerful, enough to be a real problem one day, but she could the awkward youth in the way he held himself, the inexperience in how he handled situations. She had time to get everything else in order before focusing on getting Amity Park’s would-be hero brought to heel.

And he would be brought to heel. One way or another.

Hands dirty.

Hands red.

Hands wrapped tight around the Core of a fledgling god and bending him to her will.

An artifact, old an powerful, recovered with some effort. A means of controlling specters, of chaining them to the will of the artifact’s wielder. Dangerous in the wrong hands. Dangerous in the right hands.

It was shattered, and even whole and functional Phantom was resistant to its power. But Amanda Waller prided herself in her ability to see the potential in things. It could be repaired, be made better. Even gods could be bound, be made to kneel, with the right pieces, with the right application of force.

It was just a matter of time to gather everything needed.

Phantom didn’t know he could single handedly destroy every last member of the Justice League. The baby fat, the innocent eyes, the split-second hesitations when he fought. He knew enough to be confident in fighting the usual ghosts that haunted Amity Park, but he still very much saw himself as a little fish. Maybe it was the part of him that was still Daniel Fenton, gangly teenager not quite sure what he was truly capable of yet.

She had time before the Fenton’s son truly became an issue. Time to judge if his parents’ obsessiveness would overcome their - rather shoddy, by Amanda’s estimation - parental instincts and continue to hunt him once they knew the truth. Time to get as much out of them as she could before hand, should they falter at the idea of attacking their own son. Time for the staff to be repaired and returned to working order, to get the other items needed for the truly big fish hidden on the other side of the veil between worlds.

She had time.

Until she didn’t.

Pariah Dark had not been something she thought she’d have to account for - not yet, at least.

If he wasn’t already dead, she’d ring the Ghost King’s neck with her bare hands. His arrival had opened Phantom’s eyes to what he was capable of, of just how big of a fish he was. Worse still, Phantom’s defeat of the war mongering King changed the state of play. Phantom was no longer an impressively powerful half dead teenager.

He was King Infinite.

He was an Ancient.

He was getting on her last damn nerves.

Phantom’s rogue gallery were now firmly under the boy’s control. Still distinct nuisances around Amity Park, but no longer considered true concerns. They were loyal to their boy king, delighting in ruffling his feathers but never crossing the line into treason or attempted regicide. Which meant that the GIW was the only thing that held his attention.

Amanda took the time to send a care package to the former GIW director in his tiny, dank prison cell. As thanks for his carelessness in revealing to the entire town - both living and dead - of the agency’s existence and their intentions. Had he stuck to standard protocol, Phantom would have been none the wiser to their presence. Would have scratched his head and shrugged his shoulders at the ghost that went missing upon occasion. Would have been boredly uninterested in the people his parents had begun working with. Would have been taken by surprise when they finally came for him.

But no.

No that self-obsessed, fame chasing imbecile had to go and announce to everyone and their dead mother that the GIW existed and exactly what it was they were in Amity Park to do.

Phantom knew what they were there to do.

They could only count on his naive certainty that he could broker peace with them for so long.

Peace. As if he and his people weren’t the invading force, the monsters slipping in through the cracks between worlds, the latest threat that had to be accounted for. As if he himself hadn’t rent their world asunder himself in another world, another time. No. Peace was not something they could hash out with this baby-faced monarch with his too-big crown. Peace was the assurance of safety, security. Of control of the situation.

There could be no peace.

The higher ups were somehow surprised when Phantom took that to mean there would be war.

Amanda Waller was not.

The Fentons, as suspected, took the right side when all was revealed. Steady hands and flinty eyes as they crafted the weapons that would be needed for the coming fight. Minds even sharper in their maddened grief, hearts set on revenge for the son lost and the entity that stole his face and friends and sister in his garish pretense at humanity. They were blinded to the reality of the situation in its entirety, the potential in what their son truly was, but at the end of the day it didn’t really matter. They did what she needed them to do, they could believe whatever it was they wanted so long as they did.

By the time the boy king and his armies marched upon the Amity park facility, preparations had been put into place. The base in Amity had been stripped back to bare essentials, everything of importance moved to more secured locations.

The weapons labs.

The artifact.

The girl.

All tucked well away from the front lines where Phantom and his motley crew could not reach. Their time to be put in play would come, but not yet. First she needed to gauge what Phantom and his people were capable of, what they were willing to do in the name of what they wanted. Amity Park was a pawn well sacrificed on that front. As were the other facilities she’d left easy to find.

The problem with making children gods, with giving them crowns and calling them King and giving them armies to play with, was that they thought there should be rules. That even in the trenches tearing apart their enemies, there was a certain level of playing fair that everyone was held to. They thought there was a way the world worked, of how things should be that blinded them to more effective options even as time stretched on and desperation set in.

It was the Dead’s problem though, not hers.

She reached out to the Justice League. Sour faced, unhappy, bitterly reluctant to accept that she needed their help. Stone faced and barely containing their rage at what little they knew of the situation, they agreed to a meeting.

She didn’t let herself smile until she was well and truly alone in her office.

Greater good. A lie people told themselves. A fairytale told to children. A means of convincing the weaker willed that they had no choice, that they had a noble duty to bend to. A belief that could be wielded like a weapon if the fantasy of the idea had dug in deep enough. And there were few it had dug into so deep as the members of the Justice League.

Amanda Waller was someone who did what needed to be done.

Hands dirty.

Hands red.

Hands clenched tight on a victory long in the making.

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Part Four

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #danny fenton #amanda waller #GIW #ghost investigation ward #Jack Fenton #Maddie Fenton #bad parents jack & maddie fenton #cause none of this is angsty enough yet lol #tw references to vivisection #tw references to death #waller out here playing 3d chess #of course she wasn't surprised by the inevitable war she was just hoping she'd have her secret weapon ready before it actually kicked off #oh well she still has plans B - J to get through #and all the variations for each #gonna take care of her ghost problem and her justice league problem in one fell swoop if she gets her way #just throw some GIW agents into the meat grinder for a bit while she gets stuff in order & so she can see just what Danny is willing to do #anyway wonder what Elle is up to during all this #i'm sure she's fine and there's nothing to worry about #waller playing the long con yall

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bamsara · 1 month

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Finor, the first follower.

#cult of the lamb #cotl oc #finor oc #trod au #the rehabilitation of death #the lamb doesn't remember what their mom looks like but it's finor they think of when they say the word #doodles #tw blood #comic #do yall see the ch/ca f/naf reference lksdhglkshgd

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akans-dead-at-sea · 5 months

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It's alright

30 second timelapse:

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd fanart #our flag means death #“I am a brave boy and will NOT cry while getting reference screenshots of Ed” he said.#*barely manages to hit Win+Shift+S through the fucking tears*#I'm sorry but this is the only decent OFMD fanart I got in me for now #I'm shit at drawing people with faces/head and I still gotta learn and find a style but god knows the gay pirates are gonna help me practic #I still need to recover from this scene- this episode- this season- this show goddamnit #ngl at first I liked how I drew Ed's hair but the more I look at it now the less I like it >:C #did I forget to post this? no nope nuh uh I don't know what you're talking about #this absolutely blew up on twitter- lowkey hope tumblr dot com likes it too :>#ed teach #stede bonnet #gentlebeard #ofmd s2e8 #tw blood #blood #akans art

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transmascissues · 2 months

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i absolutely cannot believe people are trying to start discourse about whether nex benedict was actually nonbinary / whether it was okay for him to describe himself as nonbinary to some people if he didn’t actually identify that way as if he isn’t literally DEAD because he was KILLED. this is a MURDERED CHILD and these monsters are so busy getting mad at the possibility that he might have been a trans boy who described himself as nonbinary to his family because that was easier for them to take that they’re turning a CHILD who was MURDERED into fucking discourse. even when we die at the hands of cis people’s violence, our own community finds a way to make us the villains of the story.

and all of this bullshit on top of the ways that cis people are already trying to say our grief over his death is unjustified. all of this on top of people claiming he wasn’t murdered and speculating on other causes of death (i literally saw someone say he “clearly went home and took the coward’s way out” and i have never been more disgusted) or claiming that he started the fight as if any action on his part could’ve been enough to justify his death. i am haunted by the sound of his father screaming that his child was not filth because that is what people have been saying about this poor kid, that’s how cruelly his memory is being treated, and even the trans community can’t get it’s shit together enough to look past the stupid discourse and see the tragedy in front of us. did you all forget that it was supposed to be up to us to grieve him in the way he deserves when the rest of the world fails to care if people like him live or die? did you all forget that this child was our sibling, the future of our community, a life that we should have had the chance to know and treasure while he was still here but that we now have a responsibility to hold close to our hearts in his absence? nex’s life was precious and it was ended far too soon and if you truly believe that anything is more important than mourning his life and fighting for a world where no more trans people have to meet such an awful fate, you’re a traitor to this community and you do not deserve the place you occupy within it.

i’m so tired. i can’t even imagine how tired his family must be, to see the public treat the child they’re grieving so horribly, to see the world fail their baby again. leave him alone. he was already robbed of peace in life; the least you can do is let him finally have it in death.

#as a trans man whose family still uses they/them and neutral terms for me and would describe me as nonbinary #because that was how i initially came out to them and me being a man is a much bigger hurdle than i have the energy to help them get over #it’s SO deeply disturbing to know that if my life ended in violence #my own community would be more concerned with how my family referred to me in death than with the fact that i was killed #how fucking dare you turn this poor child’s existence into discourse fodder when they aren’t even here to defend themselves #when you only even know who he is in the first place because he was killed #tw transphobic violence #nex benedict #tbh it feels wrong to even add my usual tags to this but i need people to see it so. here we go #transandrophobia #transandromisia #transmisandry #virilmisia #virilphobia #anti transmasculinity #transmascphobia #exorsexism #trans men #transmascs

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pebblerosegamer · 3 months

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was thinking bout xero, and what his failed attempt would mean for these two, which is mostly distress as i expected! have this mini messy comic i made during my wondering.

my hornet- in her younger years feared death a lot so she'd be quiTE wORRiEd and my pk has experienced a similar dread, so who else better to both worry with her and snap her out of it! (and continuing worrying, ignoring his own advice.)

and if you are wondering! pk is holding his half of the kingsoul :D

now have a littol behind the scenes (or techinically behind the text bubbles)

#hollow knight #my pile of rocks #my rosy doodles #comic :)#hk pale king #hk hornet #hollow knight pale king #hollow knight art #tw death #tw blood #tw injury #< ? just in case #hk baby hornet #was trying out a new brush!#also yes the 'near bottomless pit' was a reference to the abyss- only slightly tho! mostly still just a metaphorical pit :D #a red thread au

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 8 days

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Blue and Fire Engine Red #3

TW: reference/depiction of school shooting (no onscreen deaths)

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Kara’s choice of bar proves to be the perfect opposite of the bright and open firehouse. Its dim ambience feels cozy, and the low light helps ground her, letting her release some of the bravado that fueled the sexually charged tit for tat she’s been firing towards Lena. She hopes tonight will be something more than that.

Of course, that doesn’t keep Kara’s insides from positively melting when Lena walks in the door. She looks positively pedestrian out of uniform, in a loose muscle tank layered over a snug tank top, and her jeans even snugger. But her gaze glints when it finds Kara in the small two person booth towards the back. Kara’s chosen a relatively isolated corner– not to hide, but rather from a desire to not share the woman who slides in across from her.

“Glad you found the place okay,” Kara greets, grinning.

“Yeah, you kind of forgot to mention that it was literally underground.” Lena wrinkles her nose when Kara’s grin widens puckishly. “Fink.”

Kara laughs. “Let’s just say it makes for a good conversation starter.”

An arch brow answers her. “So you bring girls here a lot then.”

“Uhhmm…”

Pink lips soon soften into a teasing grin. “Relax. I’m joking.”

Releasing a sigh, Kara lets her shoulders relax. Before she can say anything, a waiter appears to take their drink orders.

“The first of a few, I hope,” the girl says brightly. She turns towards Lena first. “Your usual, Lena?”

Green eyes twinkle at Kara in the low light, clearly enjoying the way Kara’s mouth falls open. She’s been had.

“That would be lovely,” Lena returns.

The server nods, then turns to Kara. “And what can I get you?”

Kara tries not to frown. “Rum and coke,” she grumbles dejectedly. “And onion rings.”

“Excellent choice! Your drinks will be out momentarily, but the rings will take a few minutes. Is that okay?”

Lena nods, giving the girl a winning smile. “That’s totally fine, Jess,” she purrs. “We’ll be here for a while.”

Jess moves away to another table, leaving them to themselves. Kara glares at Lena, who shrugs with an abashed grin.

“I served with Jess’ brother.”

Ears pricking with interest, Kara leans forward. “Bartender?”

Lena blinks, then lifts an eyebrow. “Army.”

Kara’s eyes widen in surprise. “Oh! Wow, I didn’t even think… sorry. Medic?”

Lena nods with a hum.

“So if I talk to Jess’ brother, he’ll tell me about some daring rescue where you saved his life?”

Lena holds Kara’s light gaze for a long beat before looking down at her hands, folded on the table in front of her. “Not exactly.”

“Oh.” Kara’s stomach falls out from under her as she realizes the implication. Her cheeks start to burn. “Oh.”

There’s a long moment between them, and KAra is desperate to fill the silence.

“Thank you for your service—”

“Don’t,” Lena cuts in sharply. She takes a breath, only for it to huff out of her an instant later. “Can we talk about something else?”

Kara quickly nods. “Yeah, of course. I’m sorry–”

Jess returns then, delivering their drinks. Lena’s quiet murmur of “thanks” confirms how uncomfortable she is, and Kara kicks herself again and again for having wrecked the mood. The date has ground to a halt, she knows, and it’s her fault. Even so, she clings to hope when Lena tries to salvage the conversation.

“What about you?” Have you always wanted to be a cop?”

“Hah, well…” Kara gives a nervous smile. The short answer is no, not always. Long answer is… kinda dark, honestly.”

To Kara’s surprise, Lena gives a dark chuckle. “Well aren’t we the pair,” she drawls.

Kara feels some warmth creep back into her extremities. “I don’t mind talking about it though, if you don’t mind hearing it. If you’d rather not–”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with sharing is fine with me. It must be important if it led to you becoming a hero of law and order, so– I’d love to hear it. But no pressure.”

With a nod, Kara considers where to start. “Have you ever heard of Midvale High?” When Lena shakes her head, she continues. “Ten years ago there was a school shooting. Twenty-three students died. I was one of the survivors.”

Lena watches her solemnly, and though she seems content to simply listen, Kara lifts her hand to stave off any condolences or sympathy that might be heading her way.

“It’s okay,” she promises. “I got all the therapy, and I got to a place I can comfortably talk about it. And you know, it was the usual story: kids are awful to one kid, kid gets depressed, then angry enough to do something about it. For us, that kid was Kenny Lee, and he was my best friend.”

That’s the most shocking part, for most people. Like she said, school shootings are tragically common, but rarely does anyone realize that the shooters might actually have a friend or two.

“Kenny was a good kid– quiet, smart… he just had the wrong combination of interests, or maybe he just had the wrong face. I don’t know. The others were just… cruel. And no one did anything about it. Until one day Kenny did.”

“Did he hurt you?” Lena asks quietly.

Kara shakes her head. “No. No, he… he started in the cafeteria. I usually eat with Kenny, but he missed the first half of the day, so I ate in the bathroom that day.” She wasn’t well-liked either, so eating alone in the cafeteria always gave her enough anxiety to avoid the place.

“But I heard it. The gunfire… all that cement and linoleum… it echoes, you know? I bunkered down in the bathroom as best I could. When the shooting paused, I heard the police sirens. I thought… I didn’t know if they’d find me where I was, so when I thought it was safe, I crept into the hallway.”

Her heart had stopped when she’d recognized the back of Kenny’s head at the end of the hall. She’d gasped, and he’d whirled, lifting the weapon in his hands. When locked eyes, the rage in Kenny’s gaze had shocked her, but a moment later it gave way to apathy.

“Kara….”

“NCPD, put the gun down!”

The sound of a new voice startled them both. The rifle Kenny held jerked, and Kara’s whole body flinched. But Kenny didn’t put the gun down.

“Y-you’re going to have to kill me,” he stuttered. Kara stared at him. He looked like her friend, but there were bloody footprints behind him, and his pants were spattered with blood and… brain matter, Kara realized in horror. Her best friend had stood over someone and shot them in the head.

Trembling, Kara’s gaze bounced between Kenny and the officer who had spoken. The officer was small, barely taller than Kara, but exuded calm authority even as Kenny hefted the gun higher against his shoulder. It was too heavy, Kara realized. He wasn’t used to the weight.

“We don’t want to do that,” the officer said. Her tone was cool and clear, traveling easily down the corridor. “My name’s Officer Grant. What’s yours?”

“K-Kenny,” he stammered. Sweat beaded and slid down his forehead.

Officer Grant nodded. There was a shuffle of footsteps as more officers moved into a formation behind her. Kenny’s finger curled around the trigger, but Officer Grant lifted her hand to both put him at ease and to tell her people to hold off.

“I’m sure you have reasons for what’s happened today,” she said. “And I’m sure they feel like good ones. But no one else needs to get hurt today.”

“Yes they do!” Kenny snapped back into his rage, his features warping back into an unfamiliar mask. “He– he wasn’t there! I have to– he deserves–” His gaze locked on Kara, imploring her to understand. “He wasn’t there, Kara!”

Kara’s heart stopped. She knew exactly who he meant. Jake. The worst of them all. Kenny wanted– he was hunting. But there’d been so much gunfire already– how many people did Kenny hurt instead? Her vision wobbled, and for the first time she realized she was crying.

“Everything feels so big right now,” Officer Grant continued. “I have a son, and his emotions get so big, he just doesn’t know what to do with it. This may have felt like the only way, Kenny, but it’s not.”

“B-but… I…” Kenny sounded small again.

“You still have decisions to make, Kenny. You’re making one now– you haven’t hurt Kara.”

Kenny looked at her, tears of his own streaming down his face. “She– she’s my–” He shook his head. “She doesn’t deserve to die.”

“There are a lot of other people who don’t deserve it either. A lot of families who don’t deserve to have dinner without their kids. Your parents don’t deserve to lose their son.”

His resolve wavers. He hitches the gun again, but from exhaustion rather than ire. “I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.”

“You can choose to put the gun down, Kenny,” Officer Grant pushed gently, sensing the ground she’s gained. To Kara’s surprise, the officer’s focus shifts to her for a pointed moment before returning to Kenny. “Kara doesn’t deserve to watch you die.”

Kara’s throat locked then. She stared at Kenny, desperate. “Please, Kenny,” she croaked. Kenny didn’t look at her. “Kenny, PLEASE!”

Her legs almost gave out when he looked at her, his despair palpable. Kara knew in that moment he’d planned to die that day; the alternative would be years in prison, maybe an entire lifetime. Kara didn’t know what she would choose either.

After a long, tense moment, Kenny exhaled shakily before taking a step back. He knelt. Leaning forward, he’d slid the rifle across the floor away from him before interlocking his fingers behind his head. Before Kara could blink, officers swarmed Kenny, locking his handcuffs on his wrists and confiscating the rifle.

Officer Grant, though, came to Kara.

“Are you okay, Kara?”

An avalanche of sobs came crashing out of Kara, and Officer Grant opened her arms and held Kara as she crumbled.

“Officer Grant talked Kenny down,” Kara continues, blinking her way back to the low-lit bar. Lena waits on the other side of the booth, her features patient and calm. Kara offers a small, quiet smile. “She talked him down, by talking to him. Not as a monster, but as a person. Her compassion won out over his anger, and it saved lives.”

Lena reaches across the table, clasping Kara’s in hers. Her thumbs rub soft circles against Kara’s skin, further grounding her back in the present. “She inspired you.”

Kara turns her hand, letting her palm settle fully in Lena’s. “She did. A few years later, she was the one who gave me my badge. Literally. Her signature is on my graduation certificate.”

“I bet she remembered you.”

“She did,” Kara confirms. Then she snorts, dispelling the somber mood. “Not that it won me any favors. In fact, I was pretty sure she hated me right up until she pinned my badge on my chest.”

Lena laughs. “Oh, man, I could spend days telling you about basic. The worst.”

Kara squeezes the hand in hers, giving a genuine smile. “I look forward to it. But first…”

She pauses when she sees Jess heading towards them with a basket of food in her hands.

“Onion rings!”

#supercorp #blue and fire engine red #tw school shooting reference #no onscreen death #a little angsty #but still a first date!#the important bits are there #plus world building!

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