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samwisethewitch · 5 years ago

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Cults? In my life? It’s more likely than you think.

In my last post, I talked about how the Law of Attraction and Christian prosperity gospel both use the same thought control techniques as cults. I’ve received several public and private replies to that post: some expressing contempt for “sheeple” who can be lead astray by cults, and others who say my post made them scared that they might be part of a cult without knowing it.

I want to address both of those types of replies in this post. I want to talk about what a cult really looks like, and how you can know if you’re dealing with one.

If you type the word “cult” into Google Images, it will bring up lots of photos of people with long hair, wearing all white, with their hands raised in an expression of ecstasy.

Most modern cults do not look anything like this.

Modern cultists look a lot like everyone else. One of the primary goals of most cults is recruitment, and it’s hard to get people to join your cause if they think you and your group are all Kool-Aid-drinking weirdos. The cults that last are the ones that manage to convince people that they’re just like everyone else — a little weird maybe, but certainly not dangerous.

In the book The Road to Jonestown: Jim Jones and Peoples Temple, author Jeff Guinn says, “In years to come, Jim Jones would frequently be compared to murderous demagogues such as Adolf Hitler and Charles Manson. These comparisons completely misinterpret, and historically misrepresent, the initial appeal of Jim Jones to members of Peoples Temple. Jones attracted followers by appealing to their better instincts.”

You might not know Jim Jones and the Peoples Temple by name, but you’ve probably heard their story. They’re the Kool-Aid drinkers I mentioned earlier. Jones and over 900 of his followers, including children, committed mass suicide by drinking Flavor Aid mixed with cyanide.

In a way, the cartoonish image of cults in popular media has helped real-life cults to stay under the radar and slip through people’s defenses.

In her book Recovering Agency: Lifting the Veil of Mormon Mind Control, Luna Lindsey says: “These groups use a legion of persuasive techniques in unison, techniques that strip away the personality to build up a new group pseudopersonality. New members know very little about the group’s purpose, and most expectations remain unrevealed. People become deeply involved, sacrificing vast amounts of time and money, and investing emotionally, spiritually, psychologically, and socially.”

Let’s address some more common myths about cults:

Myth #1: All cults are Satanic or occult in nature. This mostly comes from conservative Christians, who may believe that all non-Christian religions are inherently cultish in nature and are in league with the Devil. This is not the case — most non-Christians don’t even believe in the Devil, much less want to sign away their souls to him. Many cults use Christian theology to recruit members, and some of these groups (Mormons, Jehovah’s Witnesses, etc.) have become popular enough to be recognized as legitimate religions. Most cults have nothing to do with magic or the occult.

Myth #2: All cults are religious. This is also false. While some cults do use religion to recruit members or push an agenda, many cults have no religious or spiritual element. Political cults are those founded around a specific political ideology. Author and cult researcher Janja Lalich is a former member of an American political cult founded on the principles of Marxism. There are also “cults of personality” built around political figures and celebrities, such as Adolf Hitler, Chairman Mao, and Donald Trump. In these cases, the cult is built around hero worship of the leader — it doesn’t really matter what the leader believes or does.

Myth #3: All cults are small fringe groups. Cults can be any size. Some cults have only a handful of members — it’s even possible for parents to use thought control techniques on their children, essentially creating a cult that consists of a single family. There are some cults that have millions of members (see previous note about Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses).

Myth #4: All cults live on isolated compounds away from mainstream society. While it is true that all cults isolate their members from the outside world, very few modern cults use physical isolation. Many cults employ social isolation, which makes members feel separate from mainstream society. Some cults do this by encouraging their followers to be “In the world but not of the world,” or encouraging them to keep themselves “pure.”

Myth #5: Only stupid, gullible, and/or mentally ill people join cults. Actually, according to Luna Lindsey, the average cult member is of above-average intelligence. As cult expert Steven Hassan points out, “Cults intentionally recruit ‘valuable’ people—they go after those who are intelligent, caring, and motivated. Most cults do not want to be burdened by unintelligent people with serious emotional or physical problems.” The idea that only stupid or gullible people fall for thought control is very dangerous, because it reinforces the idea that “it could never happen to me.” This actually prevents intelligent people from thinking critically about the information they’re consuming and the groups they’re associating with, which makes them easier targets for cult recruitment.

So, now that we have a better idea of what a cult actually looks like, how do you know if you or someone you know is in one?

A good rule of thumb is to compare the group’s actions and teachings to Steven Hassan’s BITE Model. Steven Hassan is an expert on cult psychology, and most cult researchers stand by this model. From Hassan’s website, freedomofmind.com: “Based on research and theory by Robert Jay Lifton, Margaret Singer, Edgar Schein, Louis Jolyon West, and others who studied brainwashing in Maoist China as well as cognitive dissonance theory by Leon Festinger, Steven Hassan developed the BITE Model to describe the specific methods that cults use to recruit and maintain control over people. ‘BITE’ stands for Behavior, Information, Thought, and Emotional control.”

Behavior Control may include…

Telling you how to behave, and enforcing behavior with rewards and punishments. (Rewards may be nonphysical concepts like “salvation” or “enlightenment,” or social rewards like group acceptance or an elevated status within the group. Punishments may also be nonphysical, like “damnation,” or may be social punishments like judgement from peers or removal from the group.)

Dictating where and with whom you live. (This includes pressure to move closer to other group members, even if you will be living separately.)

Controlling or restricting your sexuality. (Includes enforcing chastity or abstinence and/or coercion into non-consensual sex acts.)

Controlling your clothing or hairstyle. (Even if no one explicitly tells you, you may feel subtle pressure to look like the rest of the group.)

Restricting leisure time and activities. (This includes both demanding participation in frequent group activities and telling you how you should spend your free time.)

Requiring you to seek permission for major decisions. (Again, even if you don’t “need” permission, you may feel pressure to make decisions that will be accepted by the group.)

And more.

Information Control may include…

Withholding or distorting information. (This may manifest as levels of initiation, with only the “inner circle” or upper initiates being taught certain information.)

Forbidding members from speaking with ex-members or other critics.

Discouraging members from trusting any source of information that isn’t approved by the group’s leadership.

Forbidding members from sharing certain details of the group’s beliefs or practice with outsiders.

Using propaganda. (This includes “feel good” media that exists only to enforce the group’s message.)

Using information gained in confession or private conversation against you.

Gaslighting to make members doubt their own memory. (“I never said that,” “You’re remembering that wrong,” “You’re confused,” etc.)

Requiring you to report your thoughts, feelings, and activities to group leaders or superiors.

Encouraging you to spy on other group members and report their “misconduct.”

And more.

Thought Control may include…

Black and White, Us vs. Them, or Good vs. Evil thinking.

Requiring you to change part of your identity or take on a new name. (This includes only using last names, as well as titles like “Brother,” “Sister,” and “Elder.”)

Using loaded languages and cliches to stop complex thought. (This is the difference between calling someone a “former member” and calling the same person an “apostate” or “covenant breaker.”)

Inducing hypnotic or trance states including prayer, meditation, singing hymns, etc.

Using thought-stopping techniques to prevent critical thinking. (“If you ever find yourself doubting, say a prayer to distract yourself!”)

Allowing only positive thoughts or speech.

Rejecting rational analysis and criticism both from members and from those outside the group.

And more.

Emotional Control may include…

Inducing irrational fears and phobias, especially in connection with leaving the group. (This includes fear of damnation, fear of losing personal value, fear of persecution, etc.)

Labeling some emotions as evil, worldly, sinful, low-vibrational, or wrong.

Teaching techniques to keep yourself from feeling certain emotions like anger or sadness.

Promoting feelings of guilt, shame, and unworthiness. (This is often done by holding group members to impossible standards, such as being spiritually “pure” or being 100% happy all the time.)

Showering members and new recruits with positive attention — this is called “love bombing.” (This can be anything from expensive gifts to sexual favors to simply being really nice to newcomers.)

Shunning members who disobey orders or disbelieve the group’s teachings.

Teaching members that there is no happiness, peace, comfort, etc. outside of the group.

And more.

If a group ticks most or all of the boxes in any one of these categories, you need to do some serious thinking about whether or not that group is good for your mental health. If a group is doing all four of these, you’re definitely dealing with a cult and need to get out as soon as possible.

These techniques can also be used by individual people in one-on-one relationships. A relationship or friendship where someone tries to control your behavior, thoughts, or emotions is not healthy and, again, you need to get out as soon as possible.

Obviously, not all of these things are inherently bad. Meditation and prayer can be helpful on their own, and being nice to new people is common courtesy. The problem is when these acts become part of a bigger pattern, which enforces someone else’s control over your life.

A group that tries to tell you how to think or who to be is bad for your mental health, your personal relationships, and your sense of self. When in doubt, do what you think is best for you — and always be suspicious of people or groups who refuse to be criticized.

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writingcryptid · 3 years ago

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Hitman’s Guide To Retirement

“So that’s it? You’re not even going to try and fight?” “I have fought,” Knox slams his fist on the table, startling nearby diners, he continues in a hushed, acidic hiss, “God dammit, I’ve been fighting my whole life.”

working title: how to retire from killing for hire. genre: urban fiction / coming of age category: adult POV: 3rd person, unreliable narrators with potential POV shifts status: outlining / organizing / first draft* spotify playlist(s): general vibes. *nothing is a permanent choice yet, still feeling things out.

themes, not limited to: grief, found family, older coming of age, healing from trauma, lost love, single fatherhood, morally gray characters, mental illness, cPTSD, trans/queer main cast.

content warnings: violence, familial abuse, blood, death/murder, use of guns/knives/fists, substance abuse, gratuitous swearing. will add more as i think of them.

vibes: a daytime thunderstorm that makes the sky look so dark it feels like night’s come early, the acrid feeling of whiskey hitting an empty stomach, knowing you don’t have much time left but wanting to make the most of it, except no one’s ever taught you how to do that quite right; nowhere feels quite like home, but the sound of the motorcycle engine and the empty highway ahead of you are as close to comfort as anything you’ve ever known. you feel calm in chaos, but you know you’re missing something vital in your life, and you want to find it — even if it means changing everything.

synopsis: Knox is tired. After spending most of his life working for Noah, a powerful man who didn’t want to get his own hands dirty, Knox has nothing in his life except insurmountable loss, and a bounty on his head. Rory, the surviving son of Noah, has made it his singular mission to see Knox killed, and he has just won the city’s seat as Mayor. Knowing he will no longer be able to stay safe in the city, Knox attempts escape only to be stopped by a small, sobbing girl tugging at his shirt. What follows is the story of a man who just wants to do what’s right with the rest of his time on earth, however he possibly can and a young girl who teaches him more about family than anyone else ever could.

main cast, so far...:

Knox. Thirty-two. Bisexual Trans Man. He/Him.

Homeless and orphaned by age nine, Knox spent some of his youth with kind souls who took pity on him only to disappear on them without warning. A man, Daniel, was trying to get out from under his boss, Noah Ritter, and thought training Knox to do what he did would be the trick to do it. He bought Knox’s trust with food, he trained Knox like a soldier, to kill without trace, and to feel no remorse for it. Except Knox could never quite get the “no remorse” part right. Now he is just trying to stay under the radar, and survive.

Rory Ritter. Thirty-Seven. Cis Het Man. He/Him.

The only son of Noah Ritter, Rory followed his father’s real estate mogul footsteps and took over the family business when Noah was killed. Rory has always been cold and ambitious, the pride of his father, he knew he was destined for greatness from a young age. He began running for office as soon as he was old enough to, and found easy success as he is charming when public facing. Privately, Rory is quick to anger and often cruel and unusual when lashing out.

Kimi. (pronounced Key-me) Eight. She/Her.

Kimi was given to her grandmother when she was just six months old, her young parents decided to elope without her, siting that the responsibility of parenthood was too great. Her grandmother loved her deeply, and instilled her with strong beliefs from a young age. Selectively mute, Kimi communicates mostly through writing and sign language. Though she’s young, she is generally very intuitive and knows who/what to avoid when exploring the city. She is never without a matted stuffed Peter Rabbit that was once her mother’s.

Samuel Highland. Thirty-Five. Gay Cis Man. He/Him.

A detective with some skeletons in his closet, Sam is about true justice. He despises Rory, and the Ritters, but is not popular with his chief or coworkers because of it. Though he doesn’t remember much, Sam knew Knox when they were young when his mother gave child Knox a place to stay. As an adult, Knox sought Sam out when he “retired” as an attempt to form amnesty over collectively taking the Ritters down. Sam is good natured but rough around the edges from a life of having to prove himself worthy constantly. He has a strong moral compass and cannot stand to see innocent people get harmed for greed.

Alicia Geldcrest. Forty-Two. Lesbian Trans Woman. She/Her.

Former personal assistant to Noah Ritter, Alicia is headstrong and extremely intelligent. After Noah’s death, Alicia decided to take the people loyal to her and create a sort of counter crew to fight Rory’s power. Alicia is the type to help anyone she thinks deserves it if she can.

taglist under cut, feel free to send an ask to be added!

taglist: @willowiswriting send an ask to be added/removed!

#writeblr #writing #amwriting #originalwriting #wip intro #hitman:howto #writers of tumblr #writeblr community #writers #creative writing #wip #wips #coming of age #lgbt fiction

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blossomingimagines · 4 years ago

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Icarus

Harley Quinn x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,703

Summary: Like Icarus she had flown too close to the sun and fell-- though you were certain the fall Icarus suffered from wasn't a descent into madness. It was unfortunate that she had always been your own sun. Always pulling you in no matter how far you may go to escape. You just hope you won't get too close this time. As you were sure this fall would be the greatest of all.

Notes: I saw this idea floating about and decided to give it a try. Hopefully it isn't too disappointing for you all. This is going to be left open-ended in case you all want more in this universe, which I don't know if you will. (You knew Harley Quinn before she was Harley Quinn. You were rivals, in whatever capacity, and she always beat you. Until suddenly you were her therapist at Arkham.)

I also got the idea from @kiraimagine. (Wanted to give credit where credit is due as this idea was a really good one and I enjoyed writing it.)

Warnings: Mental illnesses as depicted in Arkham.

The tale of Icarus was one that you were familiar with. How he had dreamed of something for his entire life and that had ended up being his downfall. Flying too close to the sun, despite the many warnings beforehand, and his plummet back to Earth. It was a tale that you associated with personally. For you were Icarus-- wanting something so bad that you would do anything to achieve it. No matter how far you would fall because of it.

Harleen Quinzel was your sun.

You had known her for most of your life. Meeting on the playground at the start of fifth grade-- you had tripped over something and ended up sprawled in front of her and her friends. Her golden-white locks pulled back into a loose ponytail as she stood above you. Her blue eyes mocking as she took in your expression. You had scrambled to your feet with fumbling apologies escaping your mouth. Your face became as red as the shirt she had been wearing. Despite your efforts, however pathetic they may have been, she had barely given you a second glance before walking away. Her ever-loyal posse following along like lap dogs. And, even as you turned to head back towards your friends, you couldn’t get her bright blue eyes out of your head. Making you feel like you were falling all over again.

From then on a rivalry was born between the two of you-- whether you were aware of it or not. You were a person that wasn’t even in the same galaxy as her radar and suddenly you became the direct center of it. Whatever things you took interest in, Harleen always followed. Of course, it always looked like a complete coincidence that she ended up taking the same courses as you. Always excelling at everything she put her mind to-- you in a close second.

Even as you aged, going from knobby-kneed kids to maturing teenagers, Harleen had made it her mission in life to always one-up you. To always make sure that she was around no matter what. The first day of your sophomore year had been a clear indicator of that fact.

The crowded hallways of Gotham High were roaring with life. From incoming freshmen that were trying to get their bearings to returning seniors that were establishing their claim as the rulers of the school. You just rolled your eyes at all the showboating that was going on as you made your way to your locker. A hand clutching on your bag as you were jostled for the millionth time by a football player.

Finally catching sight of your locker was like a breath of fresh air. A small sliver of sanctuary that you needed within the bustling halls. However, as quickly as the happy feeling appeared it vanished without a trace at the sight of the woman leaning against the locker adjacent to yours.

Harleen Quinzel-- in all her glory.

Light blonde hair falling loosely past her shoulders. Painted lips pulled into a smirk as she listened to the jock standing before her. Though you could clearly tell she wasn’t actually listening. As her, normally sharp blue eyes were dull at the incessant rambling of the boy.

Hoping that you could quickly open your locker and deposit everything before she noticed, you slowly made your way towards them. Seeing that she was still distracted by the jock, you felt a small smile tug at your lips. Glad that at least something was going your way today.

You shouldn’t have celebrated so early.

The moment you made contact with your lock a perfectly manicured hand appeared on top of yours. Your heart-stopping at the feeling of her smooth skin on yours. Your wide eyes meeting her devious blue as she smirked at you. Numbly you noted that they were once again the sparkling blue that you were so familiar with. Though you couldn’t find it within yourself to celebrate the fact. Not when she was leaning towards you ever-so-slightly.

“Y/N,” she purrs. “I was wondering when you were going to show up. The school is not the same with my best girl gone.”

For a moment you actually think she cared for your wellbeing, but the glimmer in her eyes made you think otherwise. Your lips thin into a line as your annoyance grows. You didn’t think you had the patience to deal with her today.

“What do you want, Harleen?”

A faux look of hurt flashed across her face. “I’m wounded that you think I need something from you, Y/N.” Her other hand rubs your arm-- you try to desperately ignore the goosebumps that appeared because of the action. Though you were certain she was aware of it-- if the look on her face was anything to go by. “I was just wondering if you knew that we were both in the same AP classes?”

Your stomach drops at the news. Her devious smile only causes your nerves to fray even more. “How? I changed my schedule three times.”

Harleen shrugs. “Looks like it was a match made in heaven.”

You shake your head with a frown starting to furrow your brow. “No, I know you did something. There’s no way we accidentally ended up in the same classes again.” Your annoyed gaze meets her amused one. “Why? Why do you like doing this to me? Don’t you have better things to do?”

At your questions, her smile falls from her lips. A sharp look flashing across her face as she leaned closer to you-- almost to the point of her nose brushing against yours. You wanted to take a step back but the hand on your bicep stopped you. You had never seen Harleen look so angry before. Even if she wasn’t completely showing you everything she was feeling. You could tell by the darkening of her eyes-- an almost desperate quality hiding underneath.

“I think you know exactly why I do what I do,” she hisses. “You just refuse to see what’s standing right in front of you. You choose to be blind to everything.”

Her voice elevates slightly towards the end of her sentence. An almost shrill quality to her tone that you had never heard before. It causes a small wince to flash across your face. Your eyes glancing towards the other occupants of the hallway. You didn’t want anyone to be listening in on this… whatever this was.

Harleen, noticing where your attention had diverted to, seems to pull herself together as she takes a step back from you. Her hand finally releasing your bicep out of the death grip she had imprisoned it in. Though the same darkened expression in her eyes remained even as she smiled at you.

“But that’s no matter,” she continues in a calmer tone. As if her outburst had never happened. “Just know that until you realize what you’ve been blind to I’ll always be here.” Harleen inclines her head ever-so-slightly towards you, her voice dropping into a whisper. “Nothing will ever be better than that.”

Then she was gone.

Only leaving behind the faint scent of her perfume and the confused feeling in your very soul.

Even now you still had no idea what she had meant. High school passed you by in the same manner as your other school years. In a standoff with Harleen Quinzel for the top student position, which she won by barely a point. Not that you were too surprised she beat you at that too. No matter how egotistical she may be, you could admit that she was highly intelligent. In another life, you could even see yourself being friends with her. If only life had turned out slightly differently for you both…

College seemed to be the only reprieve you were ever going to get from her. So you were excited to apply to as many as you could. Wanting to have as many options to choose from as possible. Anything to minimize the chance of Harleen choosing the same one-- even if deep in your heart you wanted nothing more than for her to do just that.

Learning at graduation that she was going to Metropolis for school had been a shock. As you had been deliberating going there as well. That was before your mother got sick and you decided to stay in Gotham, however. A fact that you didn’t think twice about sharing with Harleen.

Sometimes you look back at the night and curse yourself for opening your mouth.

The party was already in full swing as you stepped into the house. Loud music blaring through the speakers. The sound waves caused the very house to shake. It was lucky that the host of the party lived so far away from anyone else. It wouldn’t do to have the party shut down by what was left of Gotham’s police force. Moving deeper into the party, you bypass throngs of people dancing to the beat of the song and random couples that were lost in each other. Your eyes scan the room for a quieter place that you could just rest in until the rest of your friends arrived.

Thankfully, the search didn’t take that long as you quickly found a relatively abandoned corner. You gratefully lean against a wall once you reach it. Thankful that you had been able to find a spot that you could hide away in. As the party scene had never been a place you thrived in. Rolling your neck, you try to get rid of some of the tension that had settled over your shoulders from the past few days. Things at home were only getting more complicated but you know you made the right decision in deciding to stay. Even if Metropolis would have been a hell of a lot nicer than Gotham.

Movement from in front of you causes your eyes to widen as a solo cup is thrust into your hands. The flimsy plastic bending in your hands as you stared at the woman who had given it to you. Your mouth pressing into a thin line at the sight of her devious smirk.

Harleen Quinzel, of course.

“I’m really not in the mood right now, Harleen,” you sigh. “Why don’t you go hang out with your friends and leave me alone?”

Harleen pouts. “But you’re my best girl, Y/N. Why would I leave you all alone?”

“Because your friends are probably looking for you.” You try to offer in hopes that she would just leave you alone. You didn’t feel like hearing her gloat about getting the valedictorian spot. Her laughter was not the response you were expecting, however.

“Oh, Y/N/N, what am I going to do with you?” She asks but you’re sure it was rhetorical. Though at your continued silence her eyes flash with annoyance. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

You sigh, Harleen and her mind games were not what you signed up for when you agreed to come to the party. “I don’t know what it is I’m supposed to be getting, Harleen. Maybe if you actually told me then I might.”

She grins at you. “Now where’s the fun in that?” Her head tilts ever-so-slightly as she appraises you. As if she suddenly realized that you were wearing a low-cut dress-- courtesy of your best friend. Her blue eyes shone with varying emotions that you couldn’t even begin to decipher. Though they soon snapped back up to your face as if she suddenly realized something. “But that doesn’t matter really. I’m certain you’ll figure it out when we’re in college.”

Her words make your stomach drop. “What?”

“When we’re in college, Y/N.” Harleen drawls. “You know the place where we’re going to be going for the next four years?”

“What do you mean we?”

Her laughter, once again, catches you off guard. “Didn’t you know? We’re going to be going to the same college. I heard through the grapevine that we both got accepted to Metropolis University. Go Sharks.”

You frown, your next words coming out before you could even think. “But I’m not going to Metropolis University.”

Harleen completely freezes at that. Her eyes turn razor-sharp as the smile falls from her face. “What?”

You gulp. “I’m not going to Metropolis University, Harleen. I was but then some personal issues came up so I’ve decided to stay in Gotham.” You shrug with a rueful smile pulling at your lips. “I’m going to Gotham University. So it looks like I’m going to be a Nighthawk and you’re going to be a Shark.”

The smile falls from your face, however, at the look, Harleen gives you because of the joke. Her expression darkened even more as each second ticked by. Only the call of her name from her friends pulled her attention from you-- though she seemed more annoyed at the interruption. Thinking about the quickest escape routes you could take, to hell with your friends, you begin to shift away from the wall. Only to have Harleen suddenly grab both of your forearms and yank you towards her. Your face almost smashed against hers as she held you. Her voice coming out in a low whisper.

“We’ll see about that.”

Before you could react, her lips pressed against yours in a brief kiss before she was gone.

Only the scent of her perfume and the feel of her on your lips remaining.

You hadn’t been surprised that come fall she had appeared in your lecture hall. Her ever-present smirk flashing towards you as she took her seat a few rows in front of you. You weren’t even surprised that she had taken the same major as you. After all, you both had always been eerily similar in your interests in that regard.

Sometimes you wish you had chosen something else.

Anything else.

That’s all that could run through your mind as you made your way down darkened halls. Your heels clicking against the floor with a resounding presence that almost made you wince. The faint moans of the criminally insane echo from deeper recesses in the building. You try to not tense at the sounds. Your armed escort led you down various halls and security checkpoints before you finally reached your destination.

A door, plain as all the others, stood between you and the reason you had returned to Gotham. You didn’t want to, God did you not want to, but getting a call from Mayor Hill had changed things. You had met the man on several occasions and you had never even considered the possibility of him begging anyone. Hearing the desperate plea within his words flashed you back to a time when your mother was still alive. When there wasn’t a giant bat protecting the streets of Gotham. You hadn’t had the heart to decline.

Even if you wish you had now.

Turning to one of the guards stationed at the door, you nod. Steeling yourself for what you are about to witness. Your back straightened as your hands tightened on the various files you were holding. Your resolve only wavering as you stepped into the room. Your eyes take in the large abundance of space that surrounds the single cage in the direct center of the room. A single figure entwined with silk in the middle of it.

Moving down the staircase, you try to ignore the way the figure's burning gaze followed you. The intensity behind it is both so familiar and completely foreign. Standing directly before the cage, you finally are close enough to the figure to see the way burning blue eyes took in every small aspect of you. A familiar smirk began to make its way onto her face when she finally met your gaze with hers.

“There’s my best girl.” A grin takes the place of her smirk. A sight that causes your heart to lurch in your chest. Yet another reminder of why you didn’t want to come back to Gotham. Why you never wanted to return to the place that had taken everything from you. “I was wondering when you were going to visit me.”

“Hello, Harleen.”

#harley quinn x reader #harley x reader #dc imagines #suicide squad imagines #dc #icarus #harleen quinzel imagine #harleen quinzel #harley quinn imagine #reader insert

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timextoxhajima · 3 years ago

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Love Me A Little Less: Chapter 9 - Obligation

LOVE ME A LITTLE LESS CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Member: (3rd person pov) arranged marriage au with Lee Juyeon

Genre: angsty wangsty

Taglist: @hyunjaethereal @sunwoowuvbot @suzy-rainbow @miingxuxi

“It was like Se Kyung’s eyes had been surgically transferred into another body. ”

Hesitation stops Kim Jo-Pil for a few seconds. He parts his quivering lips and takes a deep breath, then says, just loud enough for Juyeon to hear, “I made a mistake. One too big for me to dig a hole and throw it in.”

Juyeon’s frown deepens, and he hears the sheets shuffling in the bedroom. He reaches forward, pulling Jang Won’s door shut.

It is only in Kim Jo-Pil’s home-made office (also known as Jang Won’s second guest room) that Juyeon is surprised by the number of mini and portrait-sized canvasses painted by his wife. Just for a split second, Juyeon buys it. Maybe Kim Jo-Pil isn’t as horrid of a person Kim Jang Won thinks he is.

But it’s the picture of their family sitting on his desk that ironically turns Juyeon’s head around.

“What is all this? For show? For when Jang Won storms in and you’ll think she’ll go soft, seeing all this?”

Kim Jo-Pil lands himself in the sofa seat next to the bed, piled with files and documents and boxes, leaving Juyeon to stand awkwardly by the end of the bed, eyes scanning the mess in the room.

“You sound like her... after her mother passed and before I did.”

Juyeon’s nostrils flare. “If you don’t want to tell me why you decided to come back and ruin her life, so be it. I don’t need to stand here and listen to all your-”

“Younghoon wasn’t Se Kyung’s first child.”

Silence.

Juyeon’s heart halts in his chest.

Kim Jo-Pil looks out the window, eyes looking in the distance where the city’s skyscrapers were kissing the sun. “Se Kyung had a child born out of wedlock before she married me. But they made her choose. The child’s life or her freedom.”

“Back then, The Board already had administrations favouring arranged marriages between families under the conglomerate. It was an easy system to keep the number of royalties under control. The cycle repeats itself. Two families become one, and a new family joins. Superpowers are reduced from two to one overnight, and The Board would never have to be worried about being overthrown because the supers would simply be too busy outdoing each other and seeking validation from the administration.”

“Did you know?” Juyeon whispers. “That she already had a child?”

“I knew... not because I was meant to, but because I wanted to. It was The Board’s annual Christmas Charity Event in the early 1990s and Se Kyung had gone with her parents, and I had gone with mine. She was sweeter than a daisy in a meadow full of flowers. She was polite, kind, and had a reputation for being the most stubborn creature on the planet, even then. It was one of the many things that Jang Won had inherited from her.”

“She spent her early twenties away from home, supposedly in another country working her way through foreign industries and making a name for herself. I didn’t know she had returned until my father told me that the Yoo family had chosen to merge with another - mine - I couldn’t be happier. One night, I decided to sneak to into their property and propose to her formally, way before the arrangements were to be made public. And... I heard it. The crying. Fighting.”

Kim Jo-Pil’s eyes fall. “She had returned with a child in hopes to bond her to the Yoo family. The father was a coward and ran once he had heard she was from a reputable family. Too much politics, too much money.”

“But the baby. Oh, the baby. Sweetest little thing I’ve ever seen in my life. My poor, poor Se Kyung... She was given the options: Marry into the Kim family and give the baby away, or her parents will have it dispensed like it had never been born.”

By now, Kim Jo-Pil has tears in his eyes.

“After we had Younghoon, something in Se Kyung clicked back to life. I remember the night she delivered him. The sparkle in her eyes that I fell in love with the day I met her had returned... but I knew for a fact that I needed to find her first-born, no matter the implications. It was the least I could do for her. By then, the child had to be a few years older than Younghoon and so, I spent the time that I should’ve spent with Se Kyung and my own children looking for her - the baby.”

“Se Kyung lost her parents in an accident the night Jang Won was born. She lost the worst nightmares of her life in exchange for a beautiful baby girl... so, what more could she ask for?”

Kim Jo-Pil sucks a deep breath. “I couldn’t find the child. I went to all the orphanages and the foster homes and by then Se Kyung had already fallen ill. Brain cancer - inherited. All I wanted was to return Se Kyung was her first-born and yet I did not deliver. When Jang Won was 16, Se Kyung passed. The last foster home that had taken care of the child said that she had reached a legal age to take care of herself. She could’ve gone under the radar if she wanted, changed her name if she wanted, and I’ll never be able to find her. Little did I know that she had grown to become much more of a person than I ever expected her to be, and she had been practicing advanced medicine throughout her college life.”

Juyeon is giddy from the influx of information, and so he braces himself when his own neurons piece the puzzle together.

“She was the one who revived you. The child.”

The elder shuts his eyes and lets the tears dribble over his lids.

It felt like a dream. The ache in his chest. The rough texture of gravel under his cheek when he collapsed. But Kim Jo-Pil opens his eyes, in thorough shock, when he realises he’s not in the hospital, but in some worn-down warehouse with a bunch of illegal medication that shouldn’t even be legally available outside of the hospital.

He had remembered the lights in the operating theatre, and even the sound of his slowing heartbeat in the drums of his ears.

So how is it possible that he’s-

“Ah, you’re awake! I was starting to worry that it didn’t work, Goddamn Narcan.”

Kim Jo-Pil tries to move, but he can’t. He couldn’t move a single muscle in his body besides his eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

The lights above him had been preventing him from seeing her face, and when he did, he swore he could’ve been snapped into two when he recognised her eyes.

She pushes away the lights and turns to remove her surgical equipment, the sound of latex snapping away from her fingers echo through the dismay of the room. She returns her attention to Kim Jo-Pil.

It was like Se Kyung’s eyes had been surgically transferred into another body.

“I’m Yoo Hye In, and I heard you’ve been searching for me.”

Exasperated and in disbelief, Juyeon runs his hands through his hair, turning to make sure the door of the room was shut.

“Why are you even telling me this? How do I know I can trust you to tell me the truth?”

“Yes, because I have all the damn time in the world to be cooking up this story!” He gets up and pulls up his shirt, revealing a stitched scar right over where his heart was. “I trust you because you have no reason to backstab her.”

He releases his shirt.

“Other than Younghoon, I don’t know if anybody else in this system can offer her any kind of security.”

“How do you know I’m not gonna run off after getting half of HERA & ARTEMIS?”

“Because if you wanted to, you wouldn’t have been such a jerk to her over your wedding.”

Juyeon presses his fingers over his closed lids. His vision is blurred when he opens them.

“Why don’t you just tell Jang Won about this? She can protect you. She can sieve out this... Yoo Hye In, give her what she wants-”

“Jang Won will never give Hye In what she wants.”

Juyeon can feel the edges of his lips curl downwards and his lids getting heavier from mental exhaustion. “...Hye In wants HERA & ARTEMIS?”

Kim Jo-Pil’s eyes can’t seem to leave the floor. He can’t help the dreaded feeling of failure drowning his conscience as a father, as someone who was rightfully supposed to protect her.

“So, what’s your plan? Hye In wants HERA & ARTEMIS, and you know for a fact that Jang Won won’t give that up... like, ever. What happens if Hye In doesn’t get HERA & ARTEMIS?”

“Hye In will go to the press. Her existence being Yoo Se Kyung’s first-born out of wedlock will destroy everything this family has built. Hera’s Manor, HERA & ARTEMIS, Artemis...” He shakes his head. “Either gone or hers. She’s playing saint by not doing that directly.”

“But what does Yoo Se Kyung’s mistake have anything to do with Jang Won?” Juyeon seethes, inhaling such a deep breath that his chest hurt. “This is unfair. She should not have to go through this-”

“And you think I don’t know that?” Kim Jo-Pil’s lower lip trembles, a hardening gaze plastered to Juyeon.

Heaviness blankets the room. Juyeon’s frown feels cemented into his forehead as he sits at the edge of the crowded bed, fingers on his temple.

“Juyeon.”

The younger side-eyes the elder, cautious.

“Once you’ve acquired Apple-Korea, I want you to buy all of HERA & ARTEMIS, then acquire Artemis Entertainment as well.”

“You know Jang Won won’t allow that.”

“Try. You’ll have the power to and she can’t exactly stop you,” He huffs, chest rising. “She doesn’t need to know yet. I will tell her the truth when it blows over.”

“’Blows over’? How is this going to ‘blow over’? You just said Hye In won’t give in until she gets HERA & ARTEMIS.”

“But she can’t fight for ownership if it’s the owner is not of Yoo’s descent. Which means once you acquire all of HERA & ARTEMIS-”

“Then she’s no longer a threat.”

Kim Jo-Pil nods. “But you will need Jang Won’s trust to acquire all of HERA & ARTEMIS, and she cannot know about Hye In before that happens. Once the order is out of place, Jang Won will stop at nothing to fight for HERA & ARTEMIS, not knowing that she’ll be fighting a lost war.”

“Jang Won doesn’t even trust Younghoon. How do you expect her to trust me?”

“Look at where you’re standing,” Her father turns, but doesn’t look at Juyeon directly. The sun kisses a single side of his face as his eyes scan the room. “You’re standing in Hera’s Manor, and you’re her first overnight guest in five years. I’d say you have a pretty good chance at earning the rest of her trust.”

Juyeon winces slightly, shutting his lids to process the information. There’s a grave sense of responsibility perched on his shoulders now, and the dread that lingers in the back of his skull when he thinks of Yoo Hye In strutting around in public makes him uneasy.

Juyeon finds himself mindlessly heading for the dining hall, where Mr Ro was finishing up the preparation of the wide array of food on the side table. The butler bows, but it goes unnoticed. He pulls the chair back for Juyeon to sit, and eventually calls him a cup of coffee when he notices Juyeon’s lack of attention.

“Mr Ro.”

“Hmm?” The chocolate-brown shade of coffee glitters under the light from outside.

“How long do you think it’ll take Jang Won to trust me?”

Mr Ro pulls away, handing the pot of coffee to another staff. “Well, Mr Lee... that depends on what circumstance we’re envisioning.”

“Her life. Maybe something she loves, something she can’t live without.”

“So, a prized possession.”

“Mm.”

Mr Ro pauses for a thought.

“Long, but play your cards right, and she will eventually trust you.”

Juyeon offers a strained curve of his lips when Mr Ro bows and returns to the kitchen, leaving him with a bunch of pastries that should be sold in some five-star hotel instead.

Jang Won strolls into the dining hall dawned in a gorgeous full-fitted set, make-up and hair done like she was going for her own press conference. Juyeon remains quiet at the table, only looking up once when she first enters, then he returns to spreading Nutella on his croissant.

“Jesus, do we not have anything from Younghoon or my father to let him wear besides those pajamas?”

“You lent me these pajamas, don’t make it sound like it was my bad choice to make. Besides, they are comfortable and cute,” Juyeon looks down at himself.

Jang Won gruffly scoffs. “Of course it’s comfortable. It’s made from Supima cotton. What do you think we are, savages?”

“Mrs Lee, I-”

“Call me that again and I will fire you,” She abruptly instructs, glaring at her butler.

“Ms Kim,” He corrects himself. “We have already called Younghoon’s fitters to bring by some wardrobe for Mr Lee before he joins you for the itinerary meeting.”

“Itinerary meeting?” She whips her head from Mr Ro to Juyeon, who was busy licking the Nutella off the knife he was using. “Don’t you have to be in the office or something?”

“And do what? Put myself in a situation where my parents can come to kidnap me home? No thanks.”

Jang Won leans back in her seat as the staff places a cup of tea in front of her, surprised at Juyeon’s enthusiasm with something that he didn’t need to worry about.

“Well, I have a doctor’s appointment after, so, you can come back home after unless you want to hang around old, dying people.”

“What?” Juyeon sneers. “What for? You look perfectly fine to me.”

“That’s because I have been going for these medical checkups, dumbass. I’m not gonna stand around and then what if I magically die of a heart attack- then what? Give you all of HERA & ARTEMIS and Artemis Entertainment? Pshht!”

Juyeon purses his lips - a terrible attempt at hiding his smile.

Young Jin Seol [12.13pm]: Your father just dropped by this morning. He knows you’re at Hera’s Manor.

Young Jin Seol [12.14pm]: He’s requesting for a meal, for him and Mrs Lee as well as you and Kim Jang Won after you return from your honeymoon.

He quietly locks the device, attention drifting from the messages to Jang Won, who was busy strolling about the office. The ride here had been quiet, for Juyeon had chosen to drive and Jang Won sent two guards to Kim Sunwoo’s residence to get her Mercedes back.

Heavy and thoughtful, Juyeon thought. The atmosphere in the car was strange, and he can’t help but to wonder of Jang Won was even aware she had a nightmare (or a trauma relapse, or whatever you called one of those) earlier in the morning. Maybe it was the accustomed sight of Jang Won being as cold and rigid as a statue that makes it harder to bear. Juyeon fails, when he tries to restrain the ache that devours his chest, unable to remove the image of her crying and holding on to that mini canvas like it were her life.

The door of the office clicks open and it steals both his and her attention, the tour agency officer bowing to the two tycoons with files in her arms. Juyeon stands, patting down his pants.

“Mr Lee!” She holds out a hand. “Pleasure to meet you. Mrs Lee didn’t make your attendance known.”

Juyeon smiles politely at her, shaking her hand whilst admiring the distasteful grimace on Jang Won’s face at the address.

“Please, just call me Juyeon, and my wife, Jang Won. We’re still not used to the new... salutations.”

The officer offers a low chuckle, turning to Jang Won and raising a cheeky brow. Juyeon’s left brow twitches when Jang Won’s grimace remains cemented into her lips, and yet the officer was still grinning like an idiot.

“Do you two know each other?”

“Call me ‘Mrs Lee’ one more time, and I will murder you,” Jang Won seethes, opening her arms and pulling her into a tight hug. An exhale gets punched out of Juyeon, feeling somewhat at ease with the change in atmosphere.

“I knew that would totally get you on edge,” The officer laughs, patting Jang Won on her back between her shoulder blades. Pulling away, she turns to Juyeon and bows, this time more candidly. “I’m Ki Hae Ri, your tour officer for your honeymoon next week.”

Watching Jang Won talk to Hae Ri was almost like watching her get possessed by a 13-year-old teenager. More than amused, Juyeon wasn’t even paying attention to the actual content Hae Ri was talking about regarding the itinerary - all he could see was the bright smile on Jang Won’s face.

And for once, since the day he first met her, this smile was genuine. Her eyes are folded into crescents when she laughs and chortles and berates Hae Ri for every little detail she puts in the conversation to tease Jang Won.

“And for you, Mr Lee,” Hae Ri’s voice snaps him out of his mindless admiration. “Jang Won here has told me that you like diving and so I must tell you that she suggested of doing Belize.”

The folder slides across the table, and Jang Won shoots Hae Ri a look of betrayal. Automatically darting his attention to Jang Won, Juyeon’s fingers trail the edges of the folder, a picture of the Belize Blue Hole printed on the cover page.

Clearing her throat, Jang Won looks afar, refusing to even face him. “So it’s an 8-hour drive, or a 1.5 hour flight from Guatemala to Belize. It was a suggestion in one of the itinerary sets anyway.”

Juyeon looks up from the 3-day Belize stay itinerary, noticing Hae Ri’s prideful, cheeky grin stretched up her lips.

Back in the car, Juyeon’s hands are on the steering wheel, engine already churning and the air-conditioner blasting the coolness into their faces. Jang Won waits for some moments, before realising the amount of movement in the car - or rather, the lack thereof.

“Hello? Doctor’s appointment?” The edge in her voice is back and Juyeon can’t help but wonder just how she does it - being so cold and caring at the same time. “If you’re not interested, then you can just get the fuck out and I’ll call Mr Ro to come pick you up.”

Juyeon pauses for a moment, collecting the vocabulary in his head.

“My parents want to meet us for a meal after we return from our honeymoon.”

The whir of the air-conditioner suddenly sounds a little louder.

“What for?” Jang Won snorts. “Is your mom planning on baking cupcakes and apologising for making this the worst decision of your life, even though it wasn’t even yours to make?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll have to go. They are still my parents.”

“What?” She criticises, her upper lip hooked upwards. “You ran away! From home! And now you want to just... bring a basket of fruits to a picnic with them just ‘cause they’re your parents? Ha!”

“Look, I don’t like it either, but if we don’t do this then they’ll just be bugging me forever and if that happens then I can’t do what you want me to do with HERA & ARTEMIS peacefully. If anything, they might just fuck shit up if they don’t have this meal with us.”

“‘Fuck shit up’? I’ll fuck them up-”

“We’ll go, and that’ll be the end of it, okay? Trust me, you don’t want them dipping their noses into our shit once we start with all the ownership administration.”

“’Dipping their noses’? Just who the Hell do your parents think they are? They don’t even own any of the companies related to the-”

“I know, God damn it,” Juyeon finally rebuts, patience running thin. “But they have power. According to The Board’s conglomerate, my family is on the same tier as yours.”

Jang Won huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and looking out the window.

“Just... just this once, and they’ll go easy. It’s not worth picking a fight with them, I promise you. Okay?”

Jang Won struggles to remove the frown off her forehead. She knows it’s not his fault. She knows his parents are shitty people.

And yet, for some reason, she’s jealous that Juyeon even has parents to feel obligated towards.

Destiny, prophecy, fate. You name it. Just what is it that makes things so complicated in life? Circumstances can be created, changed, altered. Jang Won can question God about how she ended up right in this very spot every day, but she won’t get an answer, ever. Juyeon can wonder why she had to be the one responsible for her mother’s mistake, and he’ll never know why either.

Juyeon trails carefully behind Jang Won, slightly surprised that she wasn’t visiting the area’s best hospital for her medical checkups. Not that this was one was bad, but it was... affordable. Taking in the sights and sounds as he enters the main hall, Jang Won advances towards the registration counter and pulls off her sunglasses.

“Here,” She slides a clipboard to the side. “Fill this visitor registration form up.”

Juyeon picks up the pen, watching her pull out her wallet and hand it over to the administration staff.

“Hi, I have an appointment with Ms Yoo Hye In.”

Juyeon’s eyes dart upwards from the visitor registration sheet, pupils flitting between the administrator and Jang Won, who was calmly signing into some check in registry. He can feel his breath grow shaky and unstable and all of a sudden, Jang Won’s looking at him like he was the crazy person in the room.

“What? Are you okay?”

He parts his lips to deny the question, wishing to brush it off and simultaneously, maybe convince himself that it was just someone with the same name.

“Jang Won! I was wondering if you were going MIA today again.”

Ironically, his heart stops. Jang Won puts on her service smile and provides her doctor a subtle wave as the two close the distance between them.

“Of course not. Gotta make my check-up down-payment worth it. I can’t run around the city working my work if I’m unwell, can I?”

“Well, I see you brought the future director of Apple-Korea with you,” Yoo Hye In turns to Juyeon, eyes bright and her smile convincingly kind. Her hair was short, well trimmed, and Juyeon was almost in shock that he could see the similarities between her and Jang Won.

The tycoon whips her head upon the silence, almost shifting to nudge him. “Juyeon.”

“No, no, it’s okay! No need to rush him,” Yoo Hye In grins widely, offering a hand to him. “I’m Jang Won’s personal doctor, Yoo Hye In. You can call me Hye In.”

#multifandomnet #destinyverse #ficscafe #juyeon scenarios #juyeon imagines #juyeon fic #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #the boyz fanfic #tbz scenarios #tbz fanfic #tbz imagines #lee juyeon scenario #juyeon fanfic #the boyz #the boyz juyeon #tbz #tbz juyeon #love me a little less

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giveemhales · 4 years ago

Text

Moodboards for Sterek AUs: 22/?

For @sterekvalentineweek Day 3

Secret Crush

4 times Stiles gave Derek a valentine, and 1 time Derek decided to return the favor.

The story can be read under the cut or on AO3!

1st grade

Derek was new, and that’s what causes the whole fiasco.

Well, not exactly new. He had been at the school since the school year had started back in August, and it was now February. But he was new in that it’s the first year anyone in his family has ever attended public school. Born into a powerful pack of werewolves with a history spanning back centuries, he had been raised surrounded only by werewolves and humans who knew about the supernatural. None of his relatives had ever gone to public school, as the risk was deemed too great to send children out in public where they may accidentally reveal their true nature. Derek and his siblings were supposed to be home-schooled, as was tradition.

However, times were changing, and their emissary had suggested the children should start attending public school. Not only was it to help the children learn how to handle being around humans and in public, but also the hunters were becoming more aggressive, and it was advised that they act as much like normal humans as possible so as not to raise suspicion.

So Derek and his older sister, Laura, were the first werewolves in the Hale pack history to go to public school. It was their first year for both of them, Derek in first grade and Laura in second. They had spent the years before learning how to control their shift under the guise of home-schooling, and the family was confident they would blend right in.

They did blend in, for the most part, never letting their eyes change color and holding back growls no matter how angry they became. But apparently, there was more to being human than just looking the part. There were all these rules and customs that everyone seemed to know except them. Derek rarely minded his family’s social faux pas, honestly never really noticing them. But on this one occasion, everyone noticed, and he was particularly upset.

It was Valentine’s Day, a holiday which his family never celebrated (why did humans need a holiday to show their adoration for their mates? How strange). The lack of experience with the holiday is why nobody in the family realized it was customary to bring “valentines” to school to share with classmates, and that’s why he arrived empty-handed.

When all the other students set up their boxes in which to receive treats, he watched in confusion, which morphed into dawning horror when he realized everyone had gifts to hand out except for him.

Derek had hoped he could slip under the radar, receive the gifts like everyone else and then maybe bring double the treats next year to make up for it.

The teacher had a different idea. The teacher scolded him in front of the whole class for being irresponsible and inconsiderate, and told him that if he had nothing to share, then nobody could share with him. He had to sit in the corner by himself and think about what he had done wrong (he was 6 years old, he didn’t have money or a calendar, this hardly seemed like his fault).

So Derek sat in the corner by himself, not only having to hear all of the other kids laugh and have a great time, but also smell the delicious treats thanks to his werewolf nose. He was used to being on his own at school, not having made any real friends, but it hurt so much more knowing he was being purposefully excluded. He had to fight hard to hold back his claws, and even harder to fight back tears. He hated this stupid school and the stupid humans in it and their stupid rules and traditions and just wanted to go home.

When the school day was finally, blessedly over, Derek shuffled out of the room with his head bowed and shoulders hunched, not wanting to see the smiles on all of the other kids’ faces and not wanting them to see the frown on his, unable to help feeling like they were mocking him.

He made it out the front doors of the school, and thought he was finally free, but stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

He turned with a scowl. It was a student in his class named Stiles. Derek wasn’t really friends with him. They had played together at recess a couple of times and he seemed funny and nice, but it wasn’t like they had ever spoken outside of school.

Derek began to wonder if he was wrong in his categorization of Stiles as nice, because he could think of no reason for any of his classmates to stop him except to gloat. Before Stiles had even said anything, Derek was already seething, thinking about the treat Stiles had brought that everyone had gotten to try except for him. While most of the students had just brought candy, Stiles had brought clearly homemade sugar cookies, and the scent had had Derek salivating in his isolation.

Before he could snap at Stiles in anger, however, Stiles thrust his hands forward in an offering. Derek looked down and was surprised to see he was holding two cookies, each partially covered by a napkin.

“Sorry Mrs. Johnson was so mean to you today. She said that we weren’t allowed to give you any valentines but I think that’s mean and dumb and I don’t follow mean and dumb rules. So I saved you a cookie. Actually, I saved you two cookies, one of them is for your sister because I figure if you didn’t bring any valentines then she probably didn’t either and might have also not been allowed any treats, which would be so sad because what’s the point of Valentine’s day besides the treats. If you eat them both, though, that’s okay because you didn’t get any candy or anything so I think you probably deserve two cookies. I would give you even more cookies but I only had the one that was already for you, and then the extra one my mom packed in my lunch box. I wanted to eat that one and then I also wanted to eat yours but I realized I shouldn’t because my mom already gave me a cookie last night so I really don’t need another and also my mom bakes all the time and most people don’t get to try the greatness of her cookies and so I have a respons- responsabl- responsibit- it’s my job to share the cookies.”

Stiles finally quit his rambling to stare expectantly at Derek, who was staring back in shock. He shoved his hands forward again, until Derek finally took the offered cookies.

Derek didn’t even get the chance to say thank you before Stiles was talking again, telling some story about a time he forgot his shoes at home and how that was way worse than forgetting some valentines. He kept talking before he noticed the bus was beginning to leave, and sprinted off without so much as a goodbye.

Derek looked down once again at the cookies, and saw there was a note included. Written on a sticky note in first-grader scrawl, it said Sorry the teacher is so mean. You can be my BVF (best valentine forever). Valentine was written three different times, the first two times crossed out as he clearly wasn’t positive how the word was spelled.

Derek did end up giving the second cookie to Laura, and he found he didn’t mind because he knew the note was all his.

4th grade

Derek still didn’t particularly care for Valentine’s Day, his introduction to the holiday forever tainting his opinion, but he had still come to find himself excited about the impending sugar.

There was a storm cloud over this Valentine’s Day, though, at least for Derek and definitely for Stiles. Ever since first grade, Derek had looked forward to the homemade treats Stiles would bring, baked with love by his mother.

Derek knew that wouldn’t be the case on this day, though, because Stiles’ mother had passed away a couple of months before.

Everyone in the small town knew about it, rumors constantly spreading about the sheriff’s new drinking habits. Nobody seemed to notice the effect it had on the young boy. But Derek did.

Stiles had become more withdrawn in the months leading up to his mother’s death, presumably having to deal with her illness, but it was like he shut down once she was gone. The boy who once talked a mile a minute now was silent, except for the occasional whispers to his best friend. His absences became more frequent, and he stopped bringing a lunch to school, instead having to buy cafeteria food he would rarely eat. The worst part though was the scent of grief that constantly clung to him.

Derek saw how badly he was affected and could only hope that he would heal with time. Derek wished he knew how to help, but he still hadn’t even figured out how to make friends, let alone how to help someone cope with the loss of a parent.

So Derek knew he wouldn’t be getting any baked goods on this day, that he probably wouldn’t be receiving anything from Stiles. He just hoped that the teacher wasn’t as rude about it as his first-grade teacher had been.

Derek was proven wrong though. Stiles hadn’t brought cookies or anything of the like, but he had brought valentines. For every classmate, he had a red piece of paper which he had folded into a heart and marked with their names. They weren’t perfect, but they were definitely better than most nine-year-olds could do.

Derek was so touched at the small gift, and seethed when he saw none of the other students saw it for what it was. He even saw one student throw their heart in the trash (which Derek made a point to dig out and keep for himself because that heart was something Stiles had spent time on and deserved to be cherished). None of the students realized how kind Stiles was. That while dealing with grief, which was probably made even worse with the holiday bringing on a reminder of a tradition he could no longer partake in, and a father who himself was probably still grieving and didn’t remember he was supposed to get valentines for his son, Stiles had still made sure he had something to give to his classmates. This gift was far more valuable than anything any other student had brought.

Derek was even more touched when he realized that there was a note written inside of the heart, too. He carefully unfolded it, making sure to keep track of how he did it so he would be able to refold it, and read what was inside.

Don’t tell Scott, but you’re still my favorite Valentine.

It was made even better when he realized the other heart he had, the one from the trash, had no note, meaning Stiles had written a note especially for Derek.

Derek gave Stiles the warmest smile he could from across the room and vowed to keep that note forever.

6th grade

Derek was quick to realize Valentine’s Day was not the same in middle school as in elementary. For one, there was no making mailboxes or handing out valentines. If you wanted to celebrate the holiday, you had to do it on your own time.

The second major difference was that “like-liking” someone was a thing, and lots of girls “like-liked” Derek. Derek was apparently one of the cutest guys in the grade, and that helped immensely with his popularity. He had finally been able to make some friends, which was nice.

Derek wasn’t really a fan of all of the attention he got at school, though. He would have preferred to just spend time with the couple of best friends he had made, and ignore all of the people who wanted to be his friend solely for his status.

He knew Valentine’s Day would give some girls the perfect opportunity to confess their “feelings” for him (they didn’t even know him!) and Derek was not looking forward to it.

Derek had been correct in his assumption, and by the end of the day, three different girls had asked to be his Valentine, and he had to kindly reject them all. It was far too much for him, and he was exhausted by the end of the day.

Before he could go home, though, he had to stop at his locker to grab a textbook he needed for class.

He was surprised, and a little bit disturbed, to find a box of chocolates in his locker. It was definitely too big for someone to just slip through the slots, so someone would have had to break into his locker to get it there.

Derek immediately felt all of his annoyance of the day growing. Why could these girls not leave him alone?

However, when he leaned in to grab the box, he caught a whiff of a scent that had him calming down.

Stiles.

Suddenly, Derek found he wasn’t too upset. It wasn’t at all surprising that the boy knew how to break into lockers, and Derek found himself inexplicably preening at the thought that the boy still wanted to be his Valentine.

Taped to the bottom of the box was a typed note with no signature, clearly meant to anonymous. Derek likely never would have known who it was if it wasn’t for his werewolf senses.

The note simply read “Why don’t they let us hand out candy anymore? Middle school is lame. Don’t worry, I won’t let them ruin the holiday for you (everyone knows the sweets are the whole point). Hope you enjoy the chocolates, valentine.”

On second thought, Derek realized he probably would have been able to figure out it was Stiles, just based on the note. He could practically hear the words in Stiles’ voice. He would still let him think he got away with being anonymous, though.

Maybe middle school Valentine’s Days weren’t so bad, after all.

10th grade

Derek just knew this was going to be the worst Valentine’s Day ever, and he wished that he could just skip the whole day. He would totally pretend to be sick so he could stay home except that werewolves can’t get sick so he doubted that would fly with his parents.

Derek had broken up with his girlfriend, Paige, just a couple of weeks before. He knew that in the grand scheme of things they weren’t that serious, they hadn’t even been together for a whole year, but he had felt like he was madly in love with her.

He was healing, of course, and, for the most part, had moved on. But Valentine’s Day would just be a reminder of what he was missing (it stung every time he remembered he never got the chance to celebrate Valentine’s Day with her, he had been secretly excited to finally have a real significant other to be romantic with). That, and due to his popular status, the day would either bring on pitying looks from all of the students who thought his relationship was somehow their business, or flirting from girls who thought they now had a chance. Knowing his luck, probably a combination of both.

Derek groaned when he walked into his first-period history class and saw a heart-shaped balloon tied to the back of the desk he usually sat at. This was absolutely the last thing he wanted to deal with. He thought about just sitting at a different desk but figured it was better to go ahead and throw away the balloon before class started so as to avoid drawing any attention.

When he got to his desk, he saw a note tied to the string of the balloon. He opened it and a smile bloomed on his face when he was met with typed words.

Of course! He had been so focused on Paige that he forgot about the annual tradition Stiles had begun in the sixth grade of leaving secret gifts with notes for Derek.

Stiles wasn’t even in the class so Derek didn’t even know how he had known which desk was his, but at this point, nothing Stiles did could really surprise him.

I know they may not be the usual sweets, but I figure with this, you can tell anyone who bothers you that you already have a valentine. You know I’ve always got your back, Valentine.

The note just reconfirmed for Derek that it was from Stiles.

The gift cheered him up immensely, and he felt his qualms about the day beginning to melt away.

~~~

The day dragged on until lunch, made better by the balloon Derek carted around, which actually did help keep people away.

Derek was sitting at his usual spot with his friends when he hears a commotion from the other side of the cafeteria, and turned to see what was going on.

It seemed everyone turned to look, although he’s not sure if they can all hear. It was easy enough with his enhanced senses, though.

Derek could make out Stiles standing up on a table, looking down at a girl with strawberry blonde hair. The rest of the people at the table had faces ranging from shock to embarrassment, except for one guy who looked like he was fuming. Derek honestly didn’t know if that table was where Stiles usually sat, or if he had just decided to crash.

“Lydia, today, on the most romantic day of the year, I must make my feelings known. I know you are a goddess and I am a mere mortal, but my heart sings for you and I can no longer hide it. Reject your other suitors, for none see how brightly you shine like I do. Please accept this token of my affection, and be my Valentine.” Stiles opened up a thin box he had been holding to reveal a heart-shaped cookie cake.

Derek cringed in second-hand embarrassment, especially when he saw people giggling and filming the whole thing.

“I’ll think about it,” the girl responded in an airy voice. She was too far away that Derek couldn’t tell if she was being mocking or serious.

Stiles’ grin didn’t leave his face as he stepped down from the table. Derek saw him offer Lydia the cookie cake, but she held her hand up in rejection. Stiles shrugged and held the box closer, then grabbed his friend, who Derek recognized as his best friend Scott, by the shoulder and rushed out of the cafeteria.

Derek found himself fuming. At first, he thought it was at the way everyone was laughing at Stiles after he put himself out there, and the way the girl didn’t even appreciate what he had done. But he realized that wasn’t what it was, not really.

It was jealousy.

Derek had always cherished the tradition he had going on with Stiles (although he supposed it was mostly one-sided and it was secret), and it had made him feel special. Now he felt like it meant nothing. It was nothing more than Stiles feeling bad for the kid who once had a bad Valentine’s Day.

Derek abruptly shoved away from his table and stood up. He grumbled an excuse about having to be somewhere and stomped out of the cafeteria, annoyed he had to drag the balloon from Stiles with him. All he wanted was to pop the dumb balloon and shove it in a trash can, but knew he would regret it if he decided to do that in front of a cafeteria full of people.

As Derek stormed down the, thankfully empty, hallway, he heard a voice. He froze when he recognized that it was Stiles’ voice. He immediately hid himself against the wall, then rolled his eyes when he realized Stiles wasn’t even coming toward him, but seemed to be having a conversation in the hallway perpendicular to the one Derek was in. Derek knew there was no reason to, but he couldn’t help but eavesdrop.

“I just don’t understand why you did that! You know Lydia would never go for you!” That was Scott’s voice, and Derek couldn’t help but feel offended on Stiles’ behalf.

“Thank you for your vote of confidence, Scott. I feel like the more pressing issue that you could have mentioned is the fact that I don’t even swing that way, which would have been a much less hurtful thing to say.”

Derek froze. Had he heard that correctly? He felt guilty realizing he had listened to Stiles out himself, but felt frozen in his spot.

Scott sighed explosively. “Okay, so then why did you do it?”

Stiles gave an equally dramatic sigh. “Because Lydia asked me to, duh. Besides the fact I’m too afraid of her to say no, she gave a compelling argument. She’s currently fighting with Jackson and wanted to piss him off and make him jealous, and you know I’m always down to piss Jackson off. Plus, she said she would get a cookie cake and let me keep it, which, as you can see, she did. Plus, it’s not like I have a reputation to uphold. This isn’t even the most embarrassing thing I’ve done this year.”

Scott laughed. “Oh yeah, you mean like wooing the same person for years but not even telling them it’s you? Or talking to them?”

Stiles hissed out a “shut up” in anger, but Derek tuned out the rest of the conversation, feeling like he was on cloud nine.

Scott must have been talking about all of the gifts Stiles had been giving to Derek. Which meant it did mean something, and that Stiles actually had feelings for Derek. Not for Lydia, who didn’t even appreciate Stiles.

Derek spent the rest of the day feeling like he was floating, proudly holding his balloon through the hallways. It wasn’t until the end of the day that Derek that the way he was reacting was a bit over the top unless…

Did Derek also have feelings for Stiles?

12th grade

Derek felt like his heart was about to pound out of his chest, and he was certain he had already sweat through his shirt. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this nervous.

It was Valentine’s Day, his last one before he went to college. He knew if he didn’t do anything, it would be fine. Stiles would probably give him an anonymous gift like every year, and it would be a nice thing to reminisce about one day. It would be the same as always.

But Derek decided he couldn’t let things stay the same, and he was about to throw a wrench in Stiles’ plans.

He wasn’t sure at what point he had begun to develop feelings for Stiles, but he had realized in tenth grade after he heard about Stiles’ feelings that they were definitely there, and at this point they had become too deep to ignore. He wanted to be Stiles’ valentine but he wanted it to be for real this time, and the only way to make that happen was by telling him. And desperately hoping that he hadn’t completely misinterpreted everything.

Derek had arrived to school over half an hour early, parking right next to Stiles’ usual spot to make sure he didn’t miss him. He wanted to catch him in the parking lot, to hopefully stay out of the way of prying eyes.

It had seemed like a good idea, but now he was left stewing in his own anxiety, thinking about everything that could go wrong and wondering if he should back out now before it was too late. He even wondered if he shouldn’t have made his younger sister hitch a ride with someone else so that at the very least he would have company, but he knew she would only make him more stressed. Sisters were evil like that.

Fifteen minutes before school began and Stiles finally arrived.

It was now or never.

Derek got out of his car just as Stiles did, and called his name. Stiles jumped in shock and turned to face Derek. Derek caught a whiff of nerves off of him, but he didn’t run, so at least that was a good start.

“Can I talk to you real quick?”

Stiles looked surprised, but he nodded and approached Derek. “Uh, sure. Did you want to go inside, or…”

“No, we can talk out here. Actually, it’s better out here, because I have some stuff. In my car, I mean. So it’s easier if it’s here and I don’t have to carry it and we can just talk here now.” Derek realized none of what he was saying was making sense, and felt dread pool in his stomach when he saw the confusion growing on Stiles’ face. God, why was this so hard?

“I just wanted to say- uh- Happy Valentine’s Day. Well, that wasn’t all I wanted to say, but- One sec.” Derek ducked into the back of his car, glad he had an excuse to collect himself for a moment.

When he reemerged, it was with a box which he placed on top of his trunk. He was grateful to see that Stiles hadn’t fled.

Derek looked down at the box, avoiding eye contact with Stiles to the best of his ability, and began pulling out items one by one. “In second grade, you brought me a brownie, one that had heart-shaped sprinkles that your mother had baked. In third grade, it was an equally delicious cupcake.” He pulled out a brownie and cupcake (both store-bought and certainly not as good as Stiles’ mother’s baked goods, but baking was not his strong suit) and shoved both into Stiles’ hands, continuing on before Stiles could interrupt him. “In fourth grade, it was a folded heart, which I now realize was very impressive, since I’m about double the age you were when you made ones for the whole class and just this one took me about 20 tries.” He gave out a self-deprecating laugh, and once again handed the item to Stiles. “In fifth grade, it was a heart-shaped lollipop. In sixth, a box of chocolates. Seventh, conversation hearts.” He realized Stiles’ hands were too full to hold anything else, and began placing the items onto the trunk next to the box instead. “In eighth grade, it was a teddy bear. Freshman year, it was chocolate covered strawberries. Sophomore year, you gave me a heart-shaped balloon, which was actually quite useful.” He had to lean back into his car to grab the balloon, since it had been too big for the box. “Last year, it was roses. And all of it began in first grade, when you decided the nobody kid in the class with no friends deserved to have something nice, no matter what the teacher said, when you gave me the best cookie I have, to this day, ever had. You told me then, and for years to come, that I was your valentine. And as much as I loved that, I want something more. Will you be my real valentine? Will you be mine?” Finally, he pulled out a heart-shaped cookie, covered with pink icing and the words Be Mine written on top.

Derek finally looked up at Stiles, who had his mouth open in shock. He smelled like a myriad of emotions, and Derek was having difficulty getting a read on him. As the seconds passed, he began to get the sinking feeling he had royally fucked up.

“Are you kidding me?” Stiles finally burst out, and barrelled on before Derek could even figure out what part he was reacting to. “You’ve ruined my ten-year plan! I have been secretly wooing you- or at least I thought it was secret- for years, and today was going to be the grand finale! I was going to confess that it was me all along and then I was going to offer you a kiss and if it was weird and you weren’t interested I had some chocolate kisses to give you so I could play it off all cool, but then if you were interested we were going to have a great, romantic first kiss. But you have out-romanced me in one fell swoop! How dare you!”

Derek stared back in shock. He felt.. actually he had no idea how he felt and wasn’t even sure what part of that he was supposed to react to first.

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” Stiles demanded, although Derek could see the smile hidden on his face.

“Uh… is a kiss still on the table?”

“Chocolate or real?”

“What do you think?”

Stiles pretended to think about it for a moment. “Well, after that grand romantic gesture, I would say a real kiss. But I do know you have a sweet tooth, so it’s hard to say for sure…”

“How about this? You kiss me now, and then after school we go on a date and finish that whole bag of kisses together. And all this store-bought shit I got you. Sound like a good compromise to you?”

Stiles smirked. “Sounds perfect, Valentine.”

After that, Derek helped Stiles put all of the gifts into his Jeep, and then they walked hand and hand to the school, not even caring they were probably late at this point.

Suddenly, a thought hit Derek, and he froze, causing Stiles to stumble and then turn to him with an expectant eyebrow raised.

“Wait, you said ten-year plan. Have you actually been wooing me this whole time?”

Stiles blushed, and it was the prettiest thing Derek had ever seen. “Well, not exactly. But after I gave you that cookie in first grade, I saw the way your eyes lit up, and when you smiled at me, well, my little 6-year-old heart knew you were going to be the only Valentine I’d ever need.”

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evera6234 · 4 years ago

Text

Gotham’s Salty WIP: Chapter II

CHAPTER I

RATING: T (Teen for cursing and stuff, this may change)

SUMMARY:

Basically, the typical Daminette with a bit of lime and spice. Borderline crack fic bc i cant without humor.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng goes to Gotham whilst carrying three years worth of emotional baggage, what she does with it, we don't know. Does she lug it around? Probably. Does she kick it off a skyscraper? Not probable, but maybe. Does she use it to drop kick an unsuspecting liar. Most definitely. ~~~> EDITED BY OLLIETHETURTLE ON AO3

Transferred from AO3.

Lemme know if u wanna be tagged

“Yeah, your signatures don’t line up…” says the man at the front desk. “You said your name was… Lila Rossi, right? I’m looking for a... Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

“Present,” an amused Marinette announces.

“No! There must have been a mistake. I personally talked to Brucie and his 4 sons, Jason Grayson, Tim Todd, Dick Drake and my precious Damibear!”

“Yeah no. That 100% didn’t happen. 100%,” the somewhat peeved front desk attendant grins.

“How dare you talk to Lila like that! What’s your name? Give me your manager's number!” Alya fumes in a french accent (A/N: total karen moment intentionally placed).

“My name is Andrew Winston, and my supervisor….”

“Hey Andrew, what’s poppin!” says a voice. After observation one could say that said voice comes from a tall muscular man, with a white streak in his hair, wearing a leather jacket.

“My blood vessels, Jason. My blood vessels. Why are you here? You weren’t supposed to be here today.”

“Yeah, Dick broke his arm yesterday at home. He fell down the stairs. And since I am such an amazing brother, I decided that I would fill in for him today!”

“You were forced,” concludes Andrew as he scratches out Lila’s name off the previously mentioned thicc stack of papers with a black marker.

“Yup.”

“This is the class you are supposed to caddy around WE. And they seem to be a bit peeved right now.”

Jason sighs, “Ok. what’s the issue…”

“They are saying that Lila Rossi, here” Andrew points to Lila, then looks down at his notes “says she spoke to a Brucie, a Jason Grayson, a Tim Todd, a Dick Drake and her precious Damibear to set up this field trip. My info here says that a girl named Marinette Dupain-Cheng set this trip up but they don’t believe me.” Andrew nonchalantly continues “Speaking of which, Marinette please sign on all the starred lines. Lila and her friend already filled out everything else.”

“Tim Todd!” Jason chokes.

¬`

The tour had slowed down in the corridors of Wayne Enterprises as Jason let the students go on a quick bathroom and water break. Lila had left for the bathroom, and it is safe to say that Marinette learnt her lesson to avoid bathroom confrontations with Lila. They were never fun, and right now she doesn’t think she can handle a wet shirt in winter.

“Really, Marinette. You take credit for all of Lila’s hard work,” says Kim passing by.

“Do you have any idea how hard Lila worked on this, and you know she hardly has any time to spare.” Max pitches in.

“Yeah. Lila worked so fucking hard concocting the names Jason Grayson, Tim Todd and Dick Drake. Sounds like the revamped cast to The Three Stooges,” Chloe crackles giggling.

“I sure wonder how Tim Todd and Jason Grayson are today? Are they well?” Marinette questions sarcastically.

“Absolutely fucking amazing after hearing that!” Jason wheezes, overhearing the conversation. Jason gave Marinette a knowing look that confirmed an earlier inference. This Jason was Jason Todd. This was priceless.

Adrien’s eyes narrow on his angered face. “What was she doing.” “She promised to take the high road.” “She only needs me, I’m her best friend.” He watched the situation from a distance, unnoticed by Marinette. But as sly he is, he did not slip Jason’s radar.

“So y’all, 1:30pm. That means, Lunch time! Right and you’ll be at the cafeteria, I’ll be joining you guy in about 15 minutes. So fuel up. Remember to show your IDs, lunch is on the house! Bon appetit!” Jason cheerfully announced as bows dramatically (like actors at the end of a play) and he turns around.

A bit into lunch Mrs. Bustier came up to Marinette and Chloe’s table. “Marinette, can I talk to you?” asks Mrs. Bustier.

“Can I come too, Mrs. Bustier?” asks Chloe suspiciously

“No, Chloe. This is just in between Marinette and I, sorry.” Mrs. Bustier replies sternly.

“It’s okay, Chloe. I’ll be fine,” reassured the ladybug holder, squeezing the bee holder’s hand.

“Ok, fine. Let me know if something happens.” Then Chloe leans in to whisper to Marinette, “Audio record it, just in case.” Marinette nods.

“Ok, Mrs. Bustier. I’m coming!” replies the bluenette happily as she follows Mrs. Bustier away from the crowd.

Adrien, from his table with Nino, Alya and Lila watched, “Hey guys, I need to go to the bathroom,” he said before standing up.

“Marinette you should be setting an example for the class. What you did today, making fun of Lila was wrong,” Mrs. Bustier frowned. “You of all people know Lila's condition and you should be more accepting of her.” Disappointed, Mrs. Bustier continues, “I expect you to apologize to her before we head back to the hotel.”

“With all respect, no thank you. I will not apologize for my actions,” Marinette sternly begins. “Does the school have any medical record of her illness?” Marinette asks. “Why should I allow her to take credit for my hard work? And why do I have to be the model student who is obligated to be kind to everyone, when no one ever is to me?” Marinette, now more frustrated than before, questions the teacher. She felt a storm of emotion begin to stir.

“Because you are the class representative! It is your responsibility to lead the class with your example! Lila is a student with needs, she needs to feel accepted by all her classmates and it is your job to fulfill her needs.”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Bustier, but sometimes I can’t shove a square in a circle. Sometimes I can’t do things. Lila is lying, and I can’t lie with her. I will not lie.i will not pretend to like her. And why must I be responsible for all the students in class, but receive no respect for it. Receive nothing but hate and insults. How is that fair for me?” Tears begin to collect in Marinette’s eyes. Mrs. Bustier, for the longest time, has been one of Marinette’s favourite teachers. The fact that right now Mrs. Bustier, couldn’t give less of a shit about her feeling hurt.

“I understand but what about Lila’s feelings? I cannot let you bully Lila. You are being selfish right now, I never thought you could act like this. I am disappointed in you.” Mrs. Bustier finishes as she walks away.

“What about MY feelings. What about me, what’s so wrong with me being selfish every once in a while. Have you ever looked into my family’s bullying complaints against Lila? What about me?” Marinette cries desperately, as Mrs. Bustier walks away. “Why is everyone ignoring me?”

“The real question here is, why are you ignoring me?” growled a voice from behind Marinette. “I thought you promised me to take the high road.” Marinette’s eyes widen as she realizes who’s talking to her.

“I never promised, Adrien. Not once. I can’t keep silent and alone for longer.”

“You are not alone, you have me. And I even LET you talk with Chloe.”

“Yes, I have Chloe and thank you your majesty for letting me communicate with another human being. And no, Adrien I do not have you,” Marinette raises her voice. “Lila has you, you only talk to me in secret. You let Lila lie, you let her hang off your pretty model arms when she wills. You are and were never on my side.”

“So you really are jealous?”

Marinette, delirious with anger frustration, her voice laced with contempt, “No, never.”

He looks down at Marinette and smiles “Stop lying Marinette.”

“I’m not.” Adrien looks back at Marinette, as if he knows something as he too stalks away. “I’M NOT!” Marinette yells.

“So she said that she talked to Brucie, Jason Grayson, Tim Todd, a Dick Drake and her precious Damibear!” Jason nearly on his side from laughing too hard.

“DAMIBEAR!” Tim howled in laughter, with his hands wrapped around his torso to somehow hold his ribcage together. Both brother’s are laughing their asses off in Tim’s office.

“I KNOW!”

“Are we gonna tell him?” Tim begins to ask before he interrupts himself, “No! We are not. What we are going to do is call him that and let him figure it out, sooner or later he will meet the class and when he does…”

Jason let the scenario Tim described play in his head, “YES! You now speak my wavelength, to be honest maybe Lila wasn’t lying. You may be a Todd.”

“No fucking way am I one. By the way, you should check on the class, how long has it been since you left them?”

“Shit! Twenty minutes! Farewell, dear Replacement.”

“Have fun, report back on any juicy lies, specifically ones about sweet baby Damibear or even Brucie.”

“What the fuck was that?” thought Jason as he heard two people arguing in a secluded hallway, “Marinette?” he thought when he saw the girl, immediately putting a name to the face. But he didn’t know the boy. Jason whipped out his phone and quickly took a picture of the situation, making sure to get a clear shot of the boy’s face. For research purposes.

Gunz Blazin: Hey Tim Todd

Gunz Blazin: Can you gimme a background check for this guy

(*attaches a cropped image of the mystery boy’s face*)

Boy Wonder: ???Tim Todd???

Replacement: I gotchu fam.

Boy Wonder: ???fam???

Boy Wonder: ???

Boy Wonder: Can I be a Todd too

Replacement: No you're a Drake

Jason heard a voice coming from behind him, “That’s Adrien Agreste.”

Jason turns his head to look at the boy again and hears more of the conversation. He turns back and she’s a tall-ish blonde girl with blue eyes. “You are? Marinette’s friend?”

“Yes.”

“And he is not Marinette’s friend?”

“He absolutely is not Marinette’s friend. He’s the ass-hat who thinks he owns Marinette. Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?”

“Yes.”

“What if I just break his nose a little.” (Requested by Ollietheturtle, my new dear editor)

“As an employee of Wayne Enterprises, I’m supposed to say no, but in all honestly I kinda wanna do that myself…”

TAG LIST: @jeminiikrystal @demonicbusiness @i-am-ironic @woe-is-me0 @miracleofadisaster @clumsy-owl-4178 @onmywaytoloveyou

#daminette #dcu x mlb #class salt #adrien salt #lila salt #alya salt #maribat #Marinette deserves better #dc x miraculous #chloe redemption #we love chloe in this house #cross posted on ao3 #ozmav #ml salt #damian x marinette

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whenisitenoughtrees · 4 years ago

Note

Congrats on 500 followers!!!!! Your writing is amazing and you totally deserve it! Would you be able to do “Can you please stop biting your lip…it’s distracting.” for analogical? If you don’t get inspo for it that’s totally fine I’m just on a total analogical kick recently lol

@wisherbystarlight thank you!! i absolutely love analogical so here you go

Title: abject impermanence

Word Count: 3,570

Content Warnings: implied suicidal ideation (in reference to virgil ducking out), negative self image

(fic masterpost)

Virgil would rather die than admit this to anybody, but he develops a crush on Logan after their first debate.

It’s ridiculous, and bothersome, and stupidly humiliating, and he has to spend a few days in his room before he feels prepared enough to face anyone again, prepared enough to put up his usual walls and throw around his usual sarcastic comments, and all the while, his heart is beating far too fast, his mind racing, insisting that he’s being obvious, that everyone knows.

(That is what being Anxiety means: he is under a microscope all the time, his every movement watched and analyzed and derided, alone in a crowd of people who wish him nothing but ill.)

It’s awful, really. Is he truly so pathetic that the first time someone treats him like his opinions are valid, he falls head over heels for them? Because he has to admit, that’s the root of all of this. The debate, and the fact that even though Logan didn’t agree with him, he still treated him with respect, like he was someone worth listening to, and none of the light sides have ever acted like that before.

And they’ve certainly never told him that they don’t mind his company.

So. He has a crush on Logan. And it takes him a few weeks to calm down enough to really think about it, but when he does, he decides that nothing has to change. It’s not like he’ll ever work up the courage to act on these feelings

(because holy shit, how badly would that go? He can picture it now: Logan sneering at him, Logan rejecting him, Logan informing him that he would never in a million years have feelings for someone so irrational and useless, and while Virgil is at it, would he kindly remove himself from his presence and never come back and— well. Maybe Virgil is irrational, but he can’t bring himself to risk something like that)

so the only thing to do with them is pretend they’re not there, right? He’ll keep all of his emotions right here, in his chest, and then one day, he’ll die, and no one else has to know a thing about it.

He doesn’t see what could possibly go wrong with this plan. Which is odd for him because usually, he can only see the things that could go wrong. But the only factor in this plan is him, and his own ability to disguise his feelings, and he’s been successfully doing that for a very long time.

(After all, it’s been years, and none of the others have managed to figure out how much their rejection hurts him, how deeply it strikes at the heart he pretends not to have.)

But he doesn’t anticipate things changing. He doesn’t anticipate trying to duck out, at least, not until the moments in between making the decision and actually going through with it, and he doesn’t anticipate anybody coming after him. He certainly doesn’t anticipate their reactions, doesn’t anticipate being told that he’s important,

(because since fucking when?)

and doesn’t anticipate their acceptance.

He doesn’t anticipate telling them his name.

And alright, maybe he could deal with all of this. Maybe he could ease his way into being one of them, edge his way into their inner circle. It’s something he once would have thought impossible, but now, they seem determined to make him one of them, to bring him into their family, and even though part of him wonders whether they’re just trying to make sure he doesn’t duck out again, doesn’t hurt Thomas, a larger part of him is ecstatic about the fact that they’re including him at all. Maybe he can let himself have this, for once.

But that night, Logan comes to his room.

“Do you have a moment to talk?” he asks, and reluctantly, Virgil takes off his headphones.

Because, yes. Of course. He’s hardly busy, and even if he were, he’s certain he’d figure out a way to put it aside in favor of Logan, because really, he’s helpless to do anything else.

“Yeah, sure,” he says, aiming for casual. He thinks he makes it, if only because he is very practiced in hiding how much of a mess he is internally. “What’s up?”

Logan looks uncomfortable, a bit shifty, even though he hasn’t been in his room nearly long enough for its effects to take hold.

“I merely wanted to check in with you after today’s events,” he says, and then pauses, biting his lip, something that Virgil finds incredibly distracting. “Specifically, to ensure that you are alright.”

He blinks. “Of course I’m alright,” he says. “Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

“Well, I was considering everything that happened, and it occurred to me that we glossed over precisely what ‘ducking out’ would have done to you in the long term.” In an oddly vehement motion, Logan shoves his glasses further up his nose. And Virgil knows very well that as the embodiment of Logic, Logan tries not to display his stronger emotions, but right now, he is the perfect picture of distress. “I find it likely that if Thomas had been unable to utilize you for an extended amount of time, you may have… disappeared, for lack of a better word, not unlike a muscle that atrophies after disuse.”

Well, yes. He knew what he was risking. But he’d felt low enough that he didn’t particularly care about himself.

He was just tired of hurting Thomas.

(And maybe, just maybe, if there was a part of him, small and insidious in the back of his brain, that found the prospect of nothingness appealing, he’ll keep that to himself.)

“I mean, yeah,” he says. “But that didn’t happen. You guys came and got me, and I’m okay now. Not gonna do anything like that again, I swear.”

“That’s not my point,” Logan says, even more upset entering his voice. He crosses his arms, holding his shoulders tensely. “No matter how illogical it might seem, I find myself wondering what might have happened had we not attempted to reach you in time, and the idea is… displeasing.”

Oh.

Despite himself, Virgil’s heart flutters.

“So, I arrived at the conclusion that assuring myself of your continued well-being would help to assuage my concern.” Logan fidgets. “As well as the fact that… I want you to be alright. For yourself, and not just because I am…”

“Anxious?” Virgil can’t resist finishing, even as he feels his face flushing underneath his foundation. God, he hopes Logan doesn’t pick up on that. He shouldn’t be reacting this strongly to something as simple as basic worry, especially after the day they all had, but to know that Logan has been thinking about him? That Logan doesn’t like the idea of him not being around, doesn’t want him to vanish?

That Logan cares enough to come check on him like this?

It’s a strong, heady feeling, and Virgil has the sneaking suspicion that his crush has just upgraded itself.

“Yes,” Logan answers, and he seems a bit embarrassed, but he holds his ground, staring Virgil straight (gay) in the eyes. The direct eye contact is intense, almost too much for him to handle, but Virgil finds himself unable to look away.

“Well, uh, I appreciate it, I guess,” he manages. “Really, it’s nice to know that you care.”

“Of course,” Logan says, and seems almost indignant at the idea that he might not. “I value our discussions,” he adds, and Virgil has to pretend that that statement doesn’t almost give him a heart attack.

But that is mostly the end of that conversation, because really, neither of them is very good with touchy-feely emotions. Logan sinks back out shortly after, and Virgil is left alone in his room, his headphones lying uselessly on his lap as his mind reviews their exchange over and over again, searching for all the places where it might have gone wrong, or where he might have messed up. He can’t really find any, and that is a realization in and of itself, almost enough to distract him from the bigger one, the one that looms over him.

It’s not just a crush anymore. He could try to deny it, but he thinks that would summon unwanted attention. So he accepts it, accepts that he is… he’d say infatuated, but infatuated isn’t the right word. Infatuated doesn’t even begin to cover what he feels when he looks at Logan, doesn’t cover the way his heart races and his words trip over themselves and the way he longs for his approval. It doesn’t cover the way he knows so many little details about him, like the way Logan pushes at his glasses or fiddles with his tie when he’s nervous or upset, or the exact way his lips curl around the edges when he’s pleased and trying not to show it. So many little details, none of which would be on his radar at all if he wasn’t—

Well. He won’t deny it. But he doesn’t particularly see the need to voice it, either.

After all, it’s not like it changes anything. Or at least, it shouldn’t. He wasn’t planning on sharing his feelings when they were a simple crush, and he’s certainly not going to share them now that there’s more.

Except, nothing is ever that simple,

(Nothing ever can be, with him. It’s what he does best, turning easy things into overcomplicated messes because he can’t let go of all the what ifs—)

because suddenly, he’s welcome to spend time with the others. Is welcome at their table, is welcome in the commons, is welcome to join their movie nights and their game nights, and most of the time, he even feels mostly okay with doing so, because Patton is enthusiastic in his invitations, and he can tell that even Roman is honestly trying. And sometimes, it makes him want to cry, because this is all he’s ever wanted, to be one of them, and now he can and it’s almost too much.

The only problem with that is that he’s spending a lot more time around Logan.

Which is fine. Great, even.

Except, sometimes, Logan will do things. Little things, inconsequential things, but things that remind Virgil all too clearly of the feelings he keeps nestled under his heart.

For instance, Logan bites his lip a lot. When he’s working, when he’s watching movies, when he’s listening to the others, and sometimes for no reason at all. It’s a stupid thing to get caught up on, but he can’t help himself. And it’s not as if Virgil’s attraction to him begins or ends with the physical, but—

Whenever he does it, Virgil can’t stop his eyes from zeroing in on his lips. Can’t stop himself from thinking about how much he would like to kiss him.

He would like to kiss him a whole lot. And he’s fairly sure he’s being pretty obvious about it, but he can’t bring himself to stop.

So, really, he should have prepared himself for the possibility of being found out. Under any other circumstance, he would have, but there’s a saying, he thinks, about love and fools.

“Can I help you with something?” Logan says, and Virgil flinches violently, the rest of the world coming back into focus. He snaps his gaze up to meet Logan’s eyes, and the expression on his face might be amusement, maybe, but it could also be annoyance, and in fact, it’s probably definitely annoyance, because actually Logan is annoyed with Virgil and maybe even angry and now their budding friendship is completely ruined and all because Virgil doesn’t know better than to stare when he really shouldn’t be staring and—

No, stop. Stop. He’s not going to do that, not right now. He wrests his thoughts back under control with an effort.

Logan was working, typing away on his laptop, biting his lip as he concentrated. And Virgil just so happened to be out in the commons as well, in the perfect position to watch him and daydream, just a bit.

He needs to reply. He’s left it too long, and Logan’s eyebrows are inching up his face as he awaits a response. And the longer he takes to come up with something, the more suspicious Logan will be, so he should just shrug, mutter a denial, and pointedly turn his attention away. Something like that.

But it’s his job to make snap decisions under pressure. And sometimes those decisions aren’t the right ones.

So instead of taking another second to think things through and deflect Logan’s interest, his mouth opens ahead of his brain and says, “Can you please stop biting your lip?”

Logan stares. Virgil feels himself wilting.

“… It’s distracting,” he finishes weakly, and prays for the ground to swallow him whole. He can’t even manage to sink out

(because his mind is screaming at him now, screaming horrified recriminations, screaming all of the worst case scenarios, and it’s taking all of his concentration to breathe properly, much less get out of here)

because the sheer force of his embarrassment is leaving him paralyzed, curled up in his chair and with nowhere to go, nowhere to escape Logan’s widening eyes.

“Is it now,” Logan says, and he doesn’t sound particularly angry, but Virgil could very easily be wrong. Or, he could be angry and trying to hide it. Or maybe he’s not angry, but irritation would probably be just as bad, at this point.

“Sorry,” he mutters, hunching in on himself. “Nevermind, forget I said anything.”

“Virgil, you’re magnifying,” Logan says softly, and that softness is worse than any anger could be, because what if he’s figured it out? What if he pities him? Virgil would take just about anything over pity. “Whatever you think you just said, I assure you that it didn’t come off nearly as badly as you seem to believe.” He pauses, tilting his head. “Though, I can’t say I’m certain of what you meant, considering—”

He cuts off suddenly, and Virgil can practically see the cogs turning in his head. He should leave now, leave before Logan draws his conclusions, but he is frozen, powerless to do anything but let this train wreck happen in real time.

“I wouldn’t ordinarily consider biting my lip to be a disruptive habit,” Logan says slowly. “It makes no noise and does no one any harm, and it’s not something I would think affects anyone else. But you were staring, which means there is something about the habit that draws your attention. I can only think of a few reasons for that.”

He takes it back. Pity would be far better than this, than this slow and measured reasoning, drawing out all of Virgil’s best-kept secrets, spiraling toward a conclusion that he never wanted anyone to know, much less Logan himself.

Perhaps that is why he says what he says. Because with this, Logan is only prolonging the inevitable, and it’s torture.

It’s like a band-aid. The biggest band-aid ever, maybe, covering one of the worst wounds of his life, but a band-aid. And it’s coming off one way or another, so he might as well rip it off now and brace himself for the sting.

“Oh my god,” he says. “It makes me want to kiss you. That’s why it’s distracting. And I’m just gonna go die in a hole now, if that’s alright.”

His face is burning, mortification rising up in him like a tidal wave, threatening to swamp him. This is, possibly, the worst thing that has ever happened to him, ever.

(It’s not, of course, because anything and everything is better than it was before he was accepted, when he was on his own and so lonely and bitter all the time. But this comes close, he thinks. It’s a different kind of hurt altogether, but a hurt nonetheless.)

Logan sets his laptop down, giving him his full attention. For a moment, he is completely silent, and Virgil prepares himself to stand and sink out and into his room, where he will spend the next few weeks huddled under the covers on his bed with his headphones on blast, hating his life and himself for being such an idiot, because here he is, ruining one of the best friendships that he has ever known, and for what? Because he was too much of a moron to keep himself from staring, from forcing his unwanted attentions upon the one side who was more likely than any of the others to notice what he was doing? It’s pathetic, and stupid, and he knows it, and Logan knows it, and—

“I don’t see why you need to do that,” Logan says. His voice shakes, just slightly. “You could kiss me, if you wanted.”

Virgil stills. He can’t have heard that right.

Logan clears his throat. “That is to say, I would enjoy it, if you kissed me. If I’d realized you were interested, I would have broached the topic sooner.”

Hysterical laughter threatens to escape him, his brain dissolving into static, because what? And he knows he needs to say something, needs to respond, but his vocal cords refuse to work, so he’s left sitting there, staring, stricken dumb.

Logan glances away, something like uncertainty crossing his face. “I apologize,” he murmurs. “I’m not doing this right, am I?”

And that is what finally spurs Virgil to action, because Logan sounds so terribly dejected, and that is absolutely not allowed. Not when it’s Virgil that’s made such a mess of things, when none of it is Logan’s fault at all.

“Do you mean it?” he croaks.

Logan blinks, his expression clearing, and then landing on comprehension. His face softens, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he stands, crossing the floor and kneeling in front of where Virgil sits.

“Of course I do,” he says, and then reaches out with one hand, cupping Virgil’s cheek. Virgil’s breath catches, the contact shooting lightning across his face and down his spine. His heart starts beating faster, and he doesn’t know whether it’s fear or anticipation or some mixture of the two. Most of him still hasn’t processed that this is happening, hasn’t made the jump from Logan can never know about my feelings because he’ll reject me and then I’ll have no choice but to jump off a cliff to Logan knows about my feelings and he is doing the exact opposite of rejecting me hoooooly shit what do I do—

“I think about you often,” Logan says. “Ever since our first debate, if I’m being completely honest.”

Virgil blinks.

The laugh escapes him, then, but there’s not much hysteria in it. It’s something warm, now, something bright and colorful and blooming as he realizes just how much of an idiot he’s been, as his anxiety slowly begins to fade away,

(not completely, never completely, because he is who he is and that will never change, and his mind is already looking to the future, at all the fresh new opportunities he is going to have to screw this up, but for now, in this moment, he has Logan here in front of him, offering to kiss him, telling him that his feelings aren’t as one-sided as he convinced himself they had to be, and it’s very difficult to be negative at all, in the face of such a beautiful thing as this, as him)

morphing into something that he is tentatively willing to call hope.

“Yeah?” he says. “Me too.”

Before he can lose his nerve, he shifts position, leans down, and kisses Logan. Lightly, briefly, and it’s really more of a peck than anything else, but in the split second in which their lips meet, Virgil can feel just how soft Logan’s are, and when he pulls back, anxiously searching for a reaction, Logan’s cheeks are dusted with red.

“Yes, um,” Logan says. “That was… good. Would you like to do it again?”

A wave of fondness washes over him, and he lets it drag him away.

“You dork,” he says, and pecks him on the lips again. He doesn’t yet have to courage to try for more, but he thinks that might come with time. If he is allowed time, if he is allowed this, and he is not prone to optimism, but for once, he might be willing to give it a go.

Optimism, and whatever this is, new and exciting and budding between them. And there is a part of his mind that is screaming at him, insisting that he’s only going to hurt Logan or get hurt himself, and that no brief happiness could ever be worth that, but—

Logan’s lips are gentle and soft, and Logan is smiling at him, and that, he thinks, might be worth the world.

(“I would be extremely displeased if you died in a hole,” Logan informs him a bit later. “Please refrain from doing so.”

He agrees, if only because of that fact that if he died in a hole, he would never get to kiss Logan ever again. And now that he’s started, he doesn’t ever want to stop.

He is not one to believe in permanence. Or in happy endings. But just this once, he’ll try it, and trust that Logan will catch him if he falls.)

General Taglist: @just-perhaps @the-real-comically-insane @jerrysicle-tree @glitchybina @psodtqueer @mrbubbajones @snek-boii @severelylackinginquality @aceawkwardunicorn @gayerplease @elizabutgayer @dwbh888 @thatoneloudowl @sanderssides-angst @gayboopnoodle @wildfire5157 @a-ghostlight-for-roman @ldavmp4

#analogical #virgil sanders #ts virgil #logan sanders #ts logan #my fic #long post #cat does prompts #wisherbystarlight

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ddarker-dreams · 4 years ago

Text

Yandere Behavior: Narancia Ghirga

⋆ ˚｡ Yan MBTI: RDML⋆｡˚ ⋆

Narancia isn’t a subtle yandere. He utilizes his own type of manipulation, one that’s overt and easy to call out. He won’t pick up on the fact that his actions and words could be classified as manipulative, he’s speaking whats on his mind without a filter. Narancia’s a talk first, think later type. Knowing that his honest words are making you conflicted would sadden him, as he’s only getting the point across. Relationships are a new field to Narancia, that he doesn’t know how to navigate with ease.

He stumbles over himself, promising to change and improve for your sake. It’s not that you pointing out his words as manipulative convicted him, it’s that the fear of losing you that drives him to hastily cover it up. All of those murky feelings are still underneath the surface, ready to be stirred up at any time. It’s hard to know which one is worse, as he evolves his act around you.

Before, he’d blurt out what bothered him. When you smiled at others, spent too much time with people who probably have ulterior motives. Your patience is your downfall, taking the time to explain to him that these aren’t normal feelings does nothing. All he’ll take away from it is that being open displeases you, so he grows painfully sulky. Internalizing all of his negative emotions so you don’t chastise him again. From the way he avoids your eyes and makes his smiles forced, it doesn’t work out as he intended.

At a base level, he looks up to you. He finds your strength in different aspects amazing, and will make sure you know that. Any of your hobbies are important to him now, same goes for your interests. Narancia latches onto you and has no intention of letting go, almost like a parasite. He wants so badly for you to return his feelings, placing unspoken expectations on you in the process. Ones that you normally break, given how ridiculous they are.

He’s given thought to kidnapping you, but honestly, it made his brain hurt. There are too many aspects that he’d need to account for, and by god, would it make you heartbroken. Just the thought hurts him. So he lets you do as you please, pouting to get what he wants from you. It comes off as innocent, like he doesn’t intend for it to make you conflicted. What’s worse is that he doesn’t, making you even more confused. Slowly yet surely he’ll wrap himself around you, never letting go.

Narancia could never come to terms with you not returning his feelings. He lives in his own little world where sweet [First] is his lover, his partner. Before you even know him he has your picture saved as his lock screen, bragging to Mista and Fugo how cute his significant other is. It might be endearing if not for the creepy, stalking undertones. How did he get so many pictures of you anyways...?

If you ever managed to upset him, he’d take it out on some poor soul. Hurting you is the last thing he’d want to do, so he sulks away and unleashes his violent urges elsewhere. That doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, he’ll still use Aerosmith to track your movements and ensure you’re not doing anything he wouldn’t want.

Narancia isn’t the best with money management. He’s seen in plenty of movies that guys give lots of expensive gifts to people they like, so he tries to emulate it! He’ll splurge on you, forgoing meals if it means he’ll have enough to buy you pretty roses. Those are romantic, right? You’ll like the flowers, and then like him by extension... right?

He’s very sensitive about his education level. The only time you might ever get him to snap at you is if you bring it up, even without ill will. To him, that weakness is one that he thinks you would mock. Narancia is bright in his own right, but that doesn’t stop him from being insecure. Avoiding this topic is for your own good. It’ll be the only time you ever see Narancia upset with you. He might even start sniffling before he runs off, it’s a sad sight.

He compliments you on everything. From your smile, your hair, new perfume, anything. Narancia might not notice small details, but expect your new haircut or outfit to be showered in stuttered out compliments. He’s swelling with pride at how you’re all his, whether you’re aware of that little fact or not.

Patrols are done around your residence at night. He tells himself that it’s to ensure your safety, but... it’s more self serving than that. He likes knowing where you are at all given times, that you won’t betray and leave him like so many others have. It’s what plagues his thoughts and nightmares, the mere idea that you would up and disappear. To soothe this deep worry, he watches you on his radar.

Physical affection is what he wants to indulge in, should you let him. Just know that once you give him a taste, he’s gonna be coming back for more. Holding hands, wrapping an arm around your waist, rubbing his face against yours... there isn’t anything better in the world to him. Whenever he makes you blush he’ll point it out and laugh. Not because he’s mean spirited, but because he’s so overwhelmed with your cuteness.

If you two were to argue, he’d lose sleep over it. Neglecting his health, feeling no motivation to eat or take care of himself. All he can do is mull over the fact you were disappointed in him, and that you might leave him for it. The next time you meet there are bags under his eyes, and his smile seems strained. He wants to make it up to you, and that’s what takes priority.

Narancia is one of the most clingy yanderes from part five. Should you ever want to make a grocery store run, or want to jog around the neighborhood, he’s volunteering to go with you. Narancia is attached at your hip if he’s not working, and he won’t be shaken away easily. Spending time with you is so much fun, after all.

Quotes.

“Ah, there you are! I’ve missed you so much.”

“I hate it when we have to be apart for too long... it makes me feel really weird.”

“Let’s spend all day together, okay? I’ve been looking forward to it forever.”

#yandere behavior #Narancia #narancia x reader #narancia ghirga x reader #yandere narancia imagine #yandere narancia #yandere #JoJo's Bizzare Adventure #jojo's bizarre adventures #yandere jojo's bizzare adventure #part 5 #jojo part 5 x reader #my stuff

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burning-clutch · 4 years ago

Text

Headstrong With Headstones

cross posted on a03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30588233

-.-.-.-.-.-

Ghosts are always around to ruin Danny’s day. Nothing new there, but what came of it when the Red huntress tackled him and sent them both through the ghost catcher? Well, this was new...

Warnings: descriptions of death-like trama, injuries

Prompt by: EchoGhost

Valerie, as the Red Huntress, is chasing Phantom and they end up both accidentally flying through the Fenton Ghost Catcher together. This causes Danny to end up with the hunter suit and Valerie to end up with ghost powers. (Optional: When Val goes ghost she still looks exactly like Phantom.)

Whoo boy, this one was a ride! Fun to write though but boy! Did it get away from me! it’s a long one! Anyway, enjoy! Unbetaed.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“I am really hating these things!” Phantom called out as he flew about the area blasting another giant ant looking.

He had no idea where these things came from or why but suddenly Amity was overrun with ant and bug ghosts that were just… everywhere. They were large, as far as bugs go, that is, ranging from the size of a house cat to a large dog, and each seemed to be either possessing citizens or stealing food to bring back for their queen.

Why they needed physical food, Danny wasn’t sure, but he also wasn’t about to let them stick around to let them accomplish their goal to find out. He looked over his shoulder as Sam and Tucker wrestled with a thirty something woman who was howling in rage tied up in a Fenton fishing line before they tossed her through the Ghost Catcher to separate out the ghost bug from the woman.

That done they blasted the ant ghost causing it to explode. “At least these things aren’t hard to destroy,” Tucker said, a disgusted look on his face. At least they had managed to get the catcher down here to the epicentre of the ant outbreak. Ant-break? Eh….

ng ghost. The ectoplasmic drone exploded into goo making Danny wince. “Ugh nasty... “ The halfa complained “At least we’re finally getting through them... “ Sam sighed in agreement. Though she would rather they catch the ghosts overblowing them up into goo she couldn’t deny the effectiveness. It was faster and more efficient to do rather than catch them in the thermoses and given they were only ecto constructs she couldn’t feel too bad about the whole thing. They just really needed to find the queen ant ghost sooner rather than later given that these things would never stop coming otherwise.

“Come on Tuck there's more down here! I just saw, like, eight go down the alley,” Sam said to her current partner in ghost busting. Tucker groaned but readied his lipstick blaster nonetheless and followed closely behind the dark haired girl.

Phantom watched them go before turning his attention back to the task at hand shooting through a random old man to pull out a ghost and explode that removed one as well as a larger one sneaking up on him all with the same large ecto blast.

A call of triumph was soon changed into a call of pain as Phantom was suddenly shot in the back. "I don't know how you're involved in this but I know you are, ghost!" Came an all too familiar and rather unwelcome voice from behind the halfa.

"Can we not right now Red?" Phantom complained. That shot between his shoulder blades had hurt! And he had really hoped that one of the ant ghosts had just been stronger than the others. Wishful thinking…

"Don't wanna hear your 'hero' spiel, ghost! Once I take care of you these bugs will be gone!" The Red Huntress spat back angrily.

"Me being here, and those bugs are not connected!" Phantom called back in exasperation just barely dodging a blast from the hunter.

"Stay still and let me end you ghost!"

"Tempting offer but, no. Gonna have to pass on that." Phantom called, aiming a shot and knocking the gun from Red's hands before trying to flee from her all the while still trying to round up the ghost bugs he came across.

It didn't exactly bode well with Valerie. The huntress dove after her gun, catching it before it smashed to the ground below, and tearing after the monochromatic ghost. “Get back here you ectoplasmic skum!” She yowled punching the gas so to speak, as she tried to gain headway against Phantom’s much more agile form.

“Oh! Good one! Haven’t heard that one every day of my afterlife! You need new insults!” He taunted blasting an ant ghost before slipping underground hoping to shake the huntress.

Red growled and brought up the information she’d need to track the menace in her visor eager to try and pinpoint where that jerk would be coming out. Thankfully her instruments didn’t fail her and she was able to see where he was, and got into position to head him off at the pass.

When Phantom did reemerge he did so invisibly not that it made a difference to the hunter, her visor showing where he was rather accurately. She fired, landing the hit on Phantom forcing him to drop his invisibility and jump back into the normal visible spectrum.

The ghost blinked at her stupidly a moment before asking, “New upgrades?”

“Yes, All the better to take revenge on you!”

“You’re still on about that?! You know I’m the ghost in this relationship, right? I’m supposed to be the one with the obsession?” He called only to let out a yelp and dodge down out of the way of the incoming missiles barely a second later.

“The only relationship we have is hunter and prey!” Red called out in rage making Phantom grimace.

The ghost turned to shoot any of the tracking missiles that were still coming at him before telling the girl, “You know you sound like Skulker right?! Like ew!”

“Shut up! You have no idea what this is like!”

“I was alive once ya know” Phantom argued back dodging another volley of shots and ducking down weaving under a billboard. “If anything you’re the one who doesn’t understand! Not to mention the anger issues!”

“I’ll show you anger issues!” Red quipped back yelping as her gun was shot out of her hand and exploded into bits from a follow up shot from Phantom. She was nearly out of ammo for that one anyway…

Still, she gave pursuit, even if she was ill prepared, given how fast she booked it out and after that stupid spectre when he appeared on her radar she was a little light, not that it mattered. Still, she hated to admit but she was well aware that if these bug things were Phantom’s he wouldn’t just be destroying them… it didn’t fit his MO.

Then again this was a ghost they were looking at as if they had any rational thought or feelings whatsoever! She could almost laugh at the thought. A ghost with actual feelings. HA! No matter though this time, this time she’d have him… he was weak after fighting all those other ghosts after all those minor literal bugs that needed to be squashed. She would take care of Phantom first then finish the mess he undoubtedly created.

Red let out a growl of frustration as her shots went wide, her anger causing her to miss, she knew it was that but she found herself seeing, well, red. She yelped at the burn her hand and arm sustained as Phantom blasted at her gun again, sort of missing his target and causing the weapon to explode in her hand. Of course, that only served to make her madder.

Well, desperate times call for desperate measures.

While Phantom was gloating about his shot or some other such thing, no that sorry was sarcastic! How could it be anything else from a ghost?! She shot forward at top speed, the motor in her board whirring and whining in dismay as she punished it for all it had, slamming into Phantom and more or less tackling him with her board.

He yelped in surprise and she activated the stinger prod on the end of the board giving the stupid ghost a good amount of electricity.

Phantom screeched something fierce, a horrid sound that she had never heard before and his eyes widened in fear. GOOD! He finally knew to fear her! She shocked him again still moving forward to keep him on the end of her board.

In her delirium of finally getting something in on that stupid ghost she wasn’t exactly looking where she was steering, and well, to say she was shocked when she had passed through the Ghost catcher would be an understatement.

Pain, that’s all her mind knew, and that’s all Phantom’s knew as well as the ghostly energies and anti-energies hit the semi permeable film of the catcher. Valerie screeched, her own pitch seeming to match Phantom’s as they passed through.

She hears herself grunt, but it didn’t come from her own throat.

She felt herself groaning, but it sounded much too deep…

"What?" She heard her voice ask. "I- o-oh wait… Valerie!?"

The Huntress in question opened her eyes and blinked a few times staring at her own visor, and it took her a few seconds to realize what exactly she was looking at. Frantically she stands up or at least tries to, given she floated upwards towards the sky. Her robotic suit is now replaced with a black and white skin tight suit.

Phantom on the other hand had instantly felt heavy and hot. But when he saw a semi red tinted version of his own glowing green eyes staring back at him, the sparking ghost catcher in the background…

Well, his first thought was he separated from himself... but he still felt like himself and thought as he normally would… but then... hearing Valerie's voice come out of his own throat?

"Well shit" Danny managed to say smartly

Valerie screamed realizing she was looking at herself, her body, still in her Huntress suit. She waved her arms as she yelled obscenities, joining in Phantom’s own frantic flailing as the ghost boy tried to calm her down.

" Phantom what did you do? How dare you take over my body! Why am I stuck in your gross floaty one?!” The huntress turned ghost screeched.

“You think I planned this? I don’t wanna be a girl! This is your fault you’re the one who threw us through the catcher! You should know by now that m- The Fenton’s inventions do some whack stuff!” Danny argued hauling himself up to his feet properly and flailing his arms in circles to keep balance. He was both not used to being (fully) human as well as having a different centre of gravity, not to mention the suit covering his new form.

This wasn’t like possession at all. With that, it was like wearing a tight suit. It wasn’t too terrible overall but at the same time you instinctively knew how to move within one, this was a whole new experience, like being given stilts and set onto a tightrope and told to cross the canyon, all with an additional fifty pounds strapped to you.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how mad I am at this!” Valerie said as she grabbed onto a crack in the concrete to keep herself from floating away before face planting into the gravel and grunting. Phantom couldn’t help but smirk behind the visor despite himself. “Are you? Because the way I see it you’re the ghost, your anger isn’t real, your feelings are just remnants of what you remember anger to be.” He shot her condescending look that was hidden behind the helmet, but oh! It felt good to throw that back at her.

“What!? No! That is not how this works, ghost!” Valerie screeched out, reaching a rather impressive octave with his vocal cords.

“Actually it completely is. I’m not possessing you, otherwise, my “body”-” He held up his fingers to do the air quotes here “-wouldn’t still be here, and it definitely wouldn’t do this when I overshadow someone.”

“Why you!”

“Hey chill all we gotta do is go back through the-” Danny’s voice dropped off into silence as he stared up at the ghost catcher with a deepening frown. The center where the ethereal ‘thread’ of the catcher was had broken leaving a fancy looking bubble ring at best and a really bad eye of Sauron at worst.

“Okay, New plan we get that fixed and then we can get this whole thing straightened around,'' Phantom said with a firm nod to himself after flailing his hands back and forth to himself and… himself… oh his head was going to hurt.

Valerie yelped as her feet started to sink through the concrete, causing Phantom to snort. “Not so easy is it?” He retorted smugly doing his best impression of a bitchy prep, now that he had the vocal cords for it. Though when he realized that the slow descent into the concrete wasn’t stopping making the asphalt look more like quicksand than anything, Danny rushed forward to grab the ghostly upper arm.

He was glad for once that this suit had anti phase capabilities. Valerie on the other hand had a gambit of emotions cross her face. Confusion and fear were being the most prominent as well as anger.

And how could she not! That ghost had her body, and while he had made the mention of her emotions not being ‘real’ she knew that it was because her brain and whatever her consciousness was made up of was over here in Phantom. He was still the same evil conniving ghost as always and she wasn’t sure how he had planned this, but she just knew that this was a plot of some kind to make her life even more of a hell for her.

Still, phasing through things she could do without. “You have to focus on staying solid as your body, er my body I guess, will naturally want to turn intangible. The same thing with flight, you have to will yourself to stay on the ground, your default is to float so if you want to stay in one spot you have to will yourself there…. It- It’s like have you ever had a lucid dream?”

Valerie blinked at the ghost, her? … at the words before they actually registered. Why would he bother trying to help her? Wouldn't it be easier to have her crippled under a new body and new powers and all the confusion that surrounds it?

“What?” She said after a moment of thought. He had to be tricking her somehow with this right? There’s no way… “As if I’d trust anything you have to say.”

“What?! Don’t be stupid that is my body! I spent long enough accidentally phasing through stuff that I learned how to will myself to work!” Phantom argued indignantly.

"Fine" she snapped out, relenting slightly, but only just. She figured that if, and that's an IF the size of a planet… if he really didn't somehow plan this She supposed it wouldn't hurt to try what he was saying. After all, if she didn't play nice, why knows what crimes he'll commit while inhabiting her body.

Valerie shuddered as a good number of thoughts entered her head about what Phantom could potentially do with her body. Make her look like a fool, ruin her reputation! … What could she do in Phantoms? How was this real? How did that… whatever of the Fentons make this happen? Thinking about this too much would undoubtedly make her head hurt.

Right focus, keep yourself solid. “It’s harder than it looks, you know. Like I said when I had that whole thing with Cujo I couldn’t control myself entirely and controlling him too, well….” Phantom piped up earning a glare from the huntress.

“Shut up!” Valerie roared earning a blast of sound from her jaws as she had the bar start of a ghostly wail.

Phantom squawked and covered his ears, thankful the helmet was still on given it blocked out a good amount of the sound. “Easy your emotions make you- my powers go haywire!”

“Valerie’s eyes widened as she stared at the small trail of destruction she had caused. It… it was that easy to flip over three cars and punch a hole in a building?! And phantom… Phantom held this kind of raw power? Well, now she did... This pure, unrestrained power that was so hard to control and if she focused she could feel it just below the surface in her chest, running outward and under her skin like an electric current, writhing through her veins like caterpillars.

She was disgusted by it… she was thrilled by it… she was genuinely afraid of it…

“Y-You can just…” She trailed off. She didn’t want to say what she had done, what she had just seen, or acknowledge what she was still seeing… that trail of rubble there, she didn’t want to talk about it… as about it, but she had to… and yet, she didn’t want it to be made real by her accepting it...

“Like I said it takes a while to learn control.” Phantom offered simply.

“Stay right where you are spook!” Jack Fenton’s voice was suddenly echoing down the street causing Danny to instinctively throw up his hands before giving an “Oh wait.” and looking to Val with a mix of emotions on his face.

“He’s talking to you” Phantom taunted knowingly. At least Jack was a bit of a ways off, though closing in fast… They had at least a minute for him to get into firing range.

“What no! You’re the ghost!”

“Not from where I’m standing.” Phantom shot back hotly, and he was right… technically… And Valerie really hated that he was right! “We gotta get you, me, US We gotta get outta here!” Phantom stammered out, grabbing the ghost’s arm before bolting down the nearest alleyway. Danny shoved Valerie in his body back deeper into the dark of the alley wincing as he realized she may need to transform. Then again… “How do I use your board?” Phantom half asked half yelled out at the huntress, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to look into her own panicked eyes.

“Why should I tell you?!” She spat back indignantly. Thankfully, or rather unluckily depending on how you look at it, an ectoblast shot their way clipping an overhead fire escape and pinging off the metal. Phantom simply threw his arm up towards the scorch mark with a huff of his own. “You wanna feel what those are like?” He says eyes narrowing the visors glow seemed to enhance the effect.

“Ugh fine,” Though it was meant to sound like reluctant compliance, the hitch in the tone gave her worry away. “Just jump into the air and call it up like mentally.”

He huffed and jumped up, only to land back down a second later with a frown. Again he tried going higher in his jump and clicking his heels together, this time it spawned the board but he simply hovered there on it. “And to fly?” Phantom asked ducking out of pure instinct as another ecto shot flew their way.

“Like surfing, or skateboarding Lean the way you want to go, put the pressure on your front foot for up and back for down.” Came the semi-rushed answer. Phantom nodded, grabbed Valerie and shot up like a rocket. The ghost let out a yelp and ended up overcompensating, sending them into a barrel roll as they climbed up into the clouds. By the time he managed to regain control he felt like he was going to barf, but Valerie only looked mildly annoyed. “Electromagnetic boots?” He asked wobbling a bit as he tried to haul his counterpart onto the board.

“Yep,” Came the answer as Valerie settled on the edge of the board with a defeated sigh.

“Just so you know I’m still blaming you for this. The only reason I’m playing nice with you right now is because I know if I don’t you’ll mess up something in my body or my suit.” Valerie hissed after a moment’s silence.

“Right ‘cuz I was totally the one who tackled us through that catcher.” Came the bitter retort. “I wish just once you would listen to me! Those ants are not my fault!”

“Then why bother trying to do anything about it?! Ghosts only want to manipulate people and I know if you’re not responsible for this mess then you’re making hay in the sunshine and taking advantage so that you can force people to view you as a hero,” She spat out making a scrunched face that very much did not belong on Phantom’s features.

“What? No! If I could do that don’t you think I would have?”

“Maybe you’re just not strong enough yet, need more believers or something.”

“You saw what ‘power’ I actually have Valerie, hell you used some of it! And by accident!”

“Well,” She sputtered shifting uncomfortably unable to deny what she had seen, done… what she could still sort of make out from here.

“And what was with the electricity earlier? That is beyond cruel you know! Keeping that up as long as you did!” Phantom raged the cybernetics seeming to respond in kind, a small laser popping out of his shoulder which the former halfa growled at and physically pushed back down to get it to go away.

“You’re a ghost! You don’t feel pain in the same way humans do.” Valery shot back reciting the rote excuse he had heard far too often.

Phantom saw red, and not just because of the visor he was currently forced to wear. So he did the only thing that his brain could think of. He slapped himself in the face. “OW! What the hell Phant-?!”

“Oh shut up! The pain’s all in your head! It’s not real! You’re just imagining it! You’re simply an imprint of who you once were, you’re not a person anymore, and feelings aren’t real because you're not human!” Phantom ranted and raved. When he was done he found himself panting heavily the excursion much more mental but ANCIENTS did it feel good to finally do that and scream and not take out a city block.

“Do you remember your time as Valerie Grey?” he asked after a few moments of getting his breathing in check.

“W-What? Are you stupid of course I do!” Valerie responded instantly, creeped out that the ghost knew her full name and identity but given the display of raw anger she had just witnessed she smartly decided to not bother to hedge that issue just yet. “We only just had this mess happen…” She offered up not fully sure what more to say.

“So you can say you died at that moment, well congrats, you’re no longer the person you once were, you’re not Valerie any longer, you are an imprint of what that person was and your memories of being human mean nothing.” Phantom hissed out lowly. This time he wasn’t shouting, but his tone was the purest sour thing she had ever heard come out of any single person.

“Well, I’m you.” She stated dumbly. Even though she was looking at herself and it was sort of an uncanny valley sort of thing to be looking at she still saw Phantom, raw feral and angry… The fact that she was technically the more powerful of them right now didn’t even register.

“That doesn’t matter, you’re not me you’re a ghost. It doesn’t matter who you were before you’re a ghost now and that’s all they’ll ever see.” He was shaking in barely constrained anger now. Valerie at least had the wherewithal to know that if positions were reversed and she was feeling the fury that the other was putting out, she would have come at the subject of her ire guns blazing...

Valerie opened her mouth and closed it a few times realizing something. She could literally feel the rage and sadness flowing out of the ghost controlling her body. She wanted to believe it was simply that the ghost was in HER body that the emotions were prevalent, but they were far too strong to be imitations…

She knew why she could feel, could taste, the emotions coming out of the other, and how it seemed to give a small boost of energy. It was sort of like eating something really sugary, the small jolt she got with it wouldn’t last long and she knew it instinctively, but the fact it gave a boost at all… Ghosts couldn’t feed on other ghost’s emotions… it’s one of the reasons they attacked humans after all…

She wanted to retort to the spectre snap at him like she always would but she couldn’t find it in herself… she simply felt… deflated... And it wasn’t just because her arm had all but disappeared into a wisp of smoke either…

She swallowed thickly letting the stupid ghost arm do whatever it wanted (why did she have to control these body parts) and took in a deep sigh. “You said the shock was cruel… Why?” She wondered after a moment.

Phantom had somehow managed to figure out how to open and disappear the helmet while Valerie was staring down at her, his, gloved hands, so it was a shock to see the whirlwind of storm clouds behind her own eyes. Phantom was always expressive, but it seemed to hit her harder seeing it on her own face… it looked far too real, too convincing in her own dark eyes.

“Take off the glove, the right one.” He says simply, almost too softly for her to hear.

It confused her, she hadn’t thought a ghost’s clothing could be removed… but, she did. There was little she would have thought to have seen under the glove but this? This wasn’t anything she was prepared for.

The fingers on the hand were deathly pale, but with a green underlay that was especially noticeable in the fingernails. Not a surprise really there… but just before the third knuckles the back of the hand started to deepen looking almost like something you’d find on an eighty year old, or a bit of dried wood one would toss in a fire, before fading back out and becoming the tanned green colour at the wrist that Phantom sported on his face.

Litchendburg scars were obvious and prevalent along the back of the hand, worsening into an almost perfect circle on his palm, about the size of a quarter and indented just a little bit. Now that she was looking at it, it was like his hand was burned clean through on the palm…. And those lightning bolt shaped scars, well, she knew what that meant.

“Death marks,” Phantom says simply almost reading her mind as she stared at the palm. “It’s exactly what you think it was and the scars snake around my arm all the way to my chest…. Kinda figure the whole thing exploded my heart and that’s what actually killed me...”

“And… You remember it?” Valerie asked, eyes widening in realization. Somehow talking to the ghost boy like this with his words coming out of her mouth… it seemed to make this all the more validating to her like she was finally hearing him for the first time… She probably was, now that she’d thought about it…

“Yeah, I remember a lot of my life… not everything mind you but it’s like remembering a dream you had the morning after…” Phantom says softly. That much was true, despite his halfa status, everything from before he became a half ghost was kind of hazy at best and shrouded in a dream like fog at worst. There were some memories he had that if he didn’t see photo evidence for it, he would have chalked it up to a kind of lucid dream…

“Oh,” Valerie said. What could she say to that? “And the ghost powers..? They weren’t innate and instinctual like the Fenton’s say were they?”

“No, it has been a trial by fire since the first day I died…” Phantom responded solemnly

She felt like dirt, and she glared at her whispering body before scrunching up her face and willing herself solid. She couldn’t control what her body was doing, she had no idea how to work any of… this! How many times had Phantom told her it was an accident and she refused to believe him?!

It was only now was she seeing the ghost she had been actively and relentlessly hunting as simply a teen who got thrown in too deep too fast over his head and was trying to make the most of it. Though there was one thing she didn’t quite understand, and she had wondered about it since she had first laid eyes on the odd monochromatic ghost.

“Why do you attack other ghosts at all?” She asked simply giving into her wondering.

“Because I wanna protect the people I left behind…” He answered earnestly

Valerie thought about that, he had said it before sure, but somehow it felt different this time he’d said it. Maybe she was overthinking it now? Or this was the first time she had given it any thought at all?

She stared down at her, at Phantom’s ungloved hand with a frown. Maybe he wanted to protect people to save people because no one came to save him? Almost sounded like too noble a thought to be wasted on some dumb ghost…

She shook her head wanting to end that train and derail it before it even left the station. She knew damn well it was her own anger and brashness that got her into this whole freaky Friday thing, but she would never admit to it aloud...

“How do we fix this?” She asked after a few more beats of listening to the soft whirring of the hoverboard beneath her.

“The Fenton Catcher got us into this, the Fenton Catcher can get us out,” Danny said simply. “IT’s like I was saying earlier. The electricity you were hitting me with overloaded the catcher and made it go haywire but luckily there is a reverse side to the thing, we just gotta hope the Fentons either fix the one that got fried or we hope they have a spare.” Phantom replied candidly. With a hum, the ghost boy tapped a finger on his, her lip.

The action was so normal yet so bewildering to her as she watched herself perform it. It was clearly something unconscious he did, given the thousand yard stare he had going on there… Phantom makes her go crosseyed and she couldn’t help but snort.

Danny knew full well there was a duplicate, well, sort of, of The Catcher in the lab, but the problem was he didn’t know where exactly it was. Secondly, he needed to be sure if it was worth the risk to try and use the catcher 1.0 when it was the updated version that they had been messed up by... The one they also destroyed.

Well… today seemed to be a sharing and show and tell kind of day so, “Valerie, there's an inside pocket on that suit, the zipper is under the collar since you probably can’t phase through yourself with any sort of control… Um, in that pocket there's a cell phone. Can you grab it and hand it to me?”

“You have a cell phone?” She asked her, his, nose crinkling up giving a look that clearly thought he was a stalker or something.

“Yes, a friend got it for me…. And before you say anything... Yes, I have friends, NO they are not evil… mostly, and the cellphone is paid for by them.” Phantom preemptively rattled off holding out his hand expectantly.

Valerie grunted in acknowledgement before fumbling about under the collar of the suit and finding the zipper. “What kind of ghost needs a zipper?”

“Don’t judge, I didn’t get to choose what I died in, you know.” Phantom huffed out impatiently.

Valerie blinked and grimaced, sort of feeling bad about the complaint now, though it was instantly rectified by Phantom’s next comment. “Hey lighten up, just gotta laugh at my grave sense of humour.”

“I will smack you… ugh, I can’t believe I’m undressing a ghost… Here’s your damn phone.” Valerie grumbled pointedly averting her eyes away from the ghost’s bare chest, acting as though she didn’t want to see anything she shouldn’t, in reality, she just didn’t want to see any more scarring and see it as though they were on her body. As it was she’ll be surprised enough if she doesn’t have nightmares.

She was already imagining herself being in Phantom’s spot, burning as you’re being electrocuted. Feeling your heart sputter and stop before being reborn as a ghost confused and lost still remembering everything and knowing you’ve died? She shuddered, and could only hope she would never become a ghost. Having that loom over you every time you saw your reflection didn’t sound like fun at all...

Phantom takes his phone, a flip phone that thankfully, was only ever used for his Phantom needs, and only contained three contacts, Jazz, Sam, and Tucker. Sam paid the bill for him and was a good fail safe if his parents ever punished his human half by taking away his electronics or if he ever had to leave in a hurry he had a secured line that shouldn’t be tied to him really in any way.

And right now it would work to make sure Valerie doesn’t see a phone was the same as Fenton’s. He flipped open the device, the clamshell was indestructible (mostly) and cheap! By Sam’s standards anyhow, fifty bucks may be nothing to her on her allowance but Danny would have to save up a month to get there. HE shook his head from his musings to focus on the task at hand, sending out a message to the group text asking his friends to either convince his parents to fix the ghost catcher or to retrieve the 1.0 version and set it up somewhere for him to try and fix a problem. He left it vague, apart from telling them he wasn’t exactly himself at the moment, which prompted an instant slew of worried texts from the three people in the chat chain but, well, he could deal with that later, he wrangled the ’ghostkateers’ back in and set them on their way. He just had to hope that he could get through this with his alternative identity intact.

“What was all that about?” Valerie asked suspiciously.

Ah, there it was… “I have contact with the Fenton kids… They help me get some of their parents stuff when I need it…. Didn’t you wonder why that Fenton Ghost Catcher was even in the middle of town in the first place?” Phantom said with a raised brow.

Valerie blinked in thought. She honestly hadn’t put that much thought into it. The Fenton adults had said that Phantom stole their stuff all the time and she’d simply left it at that. Why would she have wasted brain power on it? Though the more she thought about it the more she frowned.

Phantom was a ghost so just how had he been stealing things from the ghost hunters when they clearly had made and marketed things that stop and keep out ghosts? Phantom needed someone who could actually grab the stuff he needed, to get through the shields… someone(s) who were on the inside, and given how Danny would sometimes meekly defend Phantom, or how Jazz would sometimes ‘trip up’ her parents when they were going after Phantom, well…

Yeah, she really was blinded by her own rage and prejudices… Star was right on that, she supposed… too pinpointed on the small things that were pissing her off the most to focus on the bigger picture going on around her…

She shook her head before burying it in her hands. Ugh, stupid ghost making her question herself.

Phantom sighed and handed the phone back to her instructing her to tuck it away again. Curious she flipped it open and stared at the passcode ask that popped up. She didn’t even think flip phones had passcodes but whatever. She tried to make it look like she was playing with the phone flipping it and closing it, rather than actually trying to snoop… though the scoff from Phantom told her the ruse was pointless. She sighed and put the phone back where she found it.

Phantom had started grumbling about something under his breath earning a look of confusion from Valerie, though it didn’t take long for her to see what it was he was upset about, as he was trying to get the board to go. Valerie knew she should probably help him but at the same time, she was all too content to simply sit here and sulk.

It was a scream from somewhere below that snapped her from her spiralling thoughts of self depreciation. She instantly noticed two things; firstly how low her glow had become around her arms when she found a particular interest in the stitching in the gloves Phantom wore… and secondly, the scream was almost like a beacon to her, calling her out of her thoughts and making her want to go.

She felt anxious and antsy all of a sudden like she had to go somewhere, but couldn't. Like when one has to pee really bad but it's during a test, that split if need to go need to stay...she didn't know how to get Phantom's flight to work for her, but she wanted to figure out what the screaming was about…

Her legs jostle and bounce as she tries to quell the nervous energy she feels building. Why was she suddenly feeling this way? She steals a glance at Phantom, snorting when she sees him trying to unstick himself from the board but another scream for help pulls her attention back to the ground below.

She could taste the frustration from Phantom and given his growls towards the board he was standing on it was obvious where that was from, but it sort of irked her that he had no urgency about him. Couldn't he hear the screams why weren't they helping!? She had to help! She knew she could so she should! She HAD to even if she didn't know how to help she HAD to… she was compelled to.

"What are you doing? There are people who need help!" She spat feeling her agitation and anxiety rise. Phantom looked to her dumbly before looking down to the ground and noticing the chaos. “Huh…” He said simply eyes lazily roaming the crowd.

“What do you mean ‘huh?’ This is serious!” Valerie didn’t know why but she felt so much like a caged cat right now wanting to get at some prey that was just beyond her reach. She was almost positive that if she could she would be pacing back and forth on that board.

Phantom watched her twitching, her glow brightening and dimming and her anxiousness that made her look like she was getting ready to jump off this board, damned be the consequences, and he slowly felt a smirk form on his face much to the agitation of the huntress currently in his body. “It’s interesting, I mean… I’m watching this and well, I’m doing what you’re doing… it’s almost a relief” He chuckled dryly. “Jeez, guess I’m really not as much of a hero as I thought I was…” He says almost sadly before running a hand through his, her, hair.

“Phantom now is not the time to be cryptic! There are people down there who need …. Help…” Her anger suddenly ebbed away as she realized just what Phantom was getting at. How many times had the ghost told her that he just wanted to help? He always had a desperate insanity to his voice when he was tied down by her or some other ghost and he frantically would do anything he could to get out there to HELP.

“That’s your obsession, isn’t it... “ She clutched at Phantom’s jumpsuit over the ache in her chest where she could feel the ghostly core vibrating violently demanding retribution. It physically hurt, made her want to throw up and she knew the only thing to stop that feeling was to help.

Perhaps that’s why he was always involved, it was exactly the reason he said it was... He literally had no choice but to help when he saw something he could do… Was that why he was often seen helping out with inane tasks? Carrying things for people rescuing people… hell even rescuing a balloon from a tree for a little kid… He was literally trapped in an endless cycle.

Perhaps her earlier ideas of Phantom wanting to help because he didn’t get help when he needed it most wasn’t so far off. But feeling this now, in his body… it was awful to think that if she had gotten herself killed while chasing Phantom or some other ghost, she would be trapped in a similar cycle, but be even less noble… not to say Phantom was noble but that her ‘quest’ was rather unnoble.

“Yeah… guess it is…” Phantom answered sourly as he stared down at the chaos. He wanted to be a hero, he thought he was, he was helping people, saving people, after all right? Though thinking about this revelation…? It seemed to sour the point of him being a hero. If he wasn’t making the choice to help and to save people but being forced to do it… Was he really a hero?

His shoulders slumped as he watched the ghosts attack below. Even still now, he could make the choice right? He may not have his usual repertoire of powers he was used to but Red still had her suit, the suit he was currently occupying.

And looking to the huntress in his body he couldn't help but smirk. At least she would finally be more focused on saving people than shooting him. "Like a skateboard ya said right?" He asked, suddenly earning a bewildered look from the huntress.

She caught on quickly though, the small smirk appeared on her lips though it looked more conniving on Danny's face. "Yeah, and you think about the guns you want to will them out of the cybernetics." She added.

"For Ectoblasts, do you feel that cold spot in your chest, my chest?" At her nod, he continues. "Force that out and down your arm, gather it in your palm and let it go." He explained eyes narrowing.

Valerie caught on and nodded. "I'll take the left side you take right?" She asked eagerly, wanting to help the people below, not caring that she would be working with Phantom to get it done.

He was making a choice this time. Even if it wasn't him who would be hailed as the hero, given his current attire and whatnot but he wasn't being forced to make this decision. That had to count for something right?

He grunted as he fumbled around his head trying to put the helmet back up over his head. It takes him a few moments but he was able to get it eventually. He gives a nod and after a few experimental wiggles, he manages to get the hoverboard to sputter forward. He manages to move a little smoother by the time he gets closer to the ground willing out a blaster, he was hoping for something with a little more oomph but well, a wrist blaster worked too he supposed. He sees an ant ghost and fires, following up with more and more taking care of all in his sightlines. He gives a small "sorry!" As he almost knocks someone over but otherwise he seemed to be getting somewhere.

Valerie on the other hand had stood up into a sort of half crouch and was frantically waving her arm around trying to build the power in her blast hoping she could manage at least one shot. With a growl, she manages to get her hand to glow a bit green, which was progress, but not enough to create an effective attack. She shook her hand again, smacking her wrist a bit as though it were a buggy flashlight, before she was able to send out something a little more decent.

“Heh got ya!” She called out grinning at her mitt of ectoplasm, She may have only burned a hole through a street sign but hey, she got a hit on something so she was still going to count it as a win. “Over here!” Danny perked up hearing Jazz call pointing to the ghost catcher 1.0. Suppose it was better than nothing. He hoped it would do to only have themselves go through the catcher again and not have to recreate the whole process because, ow. The ghost turned huntress pitched a bit sharply earning a growling reprimand from Valerie, though it was quickly rectified by him blasting an ant ghost that was getting ready to jump at them.

It let out a horrid caterwauling noise, something that made their ears ring from the sound, “Ugh that’s worse than your screaming.” Phantom commented wincing a bit behind the visor, sighing in relief when the noise went silent.

“Ugh, really?” Valerie shot back though she could just make out the playful smirk that was showing on his face. Valerie opened her mouth to retort only to yelp as they pitched a hard right turn and went skyward. She didn’t need to ask why as the large queen ant ghost emerged from the ground.

The thing was as tall as a small building and as long as a transport truck. And the thing let out a wail that sounded like a mix of a lion and a hog squealing. “Well… That’s bigger than I thought it would be... “ Phantom said with a frown. “I don’t know if I can beat this thing in your body… We gotta get to that catcher!” He called.

The ant queen let out another roar and sent a bit of... Acidic goo... Vomit... stuff towards them. Valerie didn’t want to think too hard on it. Honestly, it looked like ecto snot but came out of what she hoped was the and queens mouth… “Ugh nasty.” She complained watching as the wad of snot sailed over them and into a building, melting it a bit.

“Yeah, let’s not get hit by that…” Phantom agreed, watching the brick melt away. “I need shields and you need to get your guns back.” He said scanning the ground around the queen to search for where the Catcher had landed.

“There!” Valerie seemed to catch on to what he was looking for and pointed it out spotting it first. At least they were in agreement on the fact they needed to swap back sooner rather than later.

Phantom leaned forward urging the board on towards the catcher hoping they would manage it in one swoop. Alas, it was not to be as the queen jumped into the air up at them, let out a roar before massive wings sprouted from her back smacking Danny and Valerie off the board, the electromagnetic functions in the huntresses suit doing nothing against the force of that hit.

They plummet downwards and Phantom tries to call out to the board but it doesn’t come for him. “Valerie fly!” He tries desperately, staring down to the fastly approaching ground. “Will yourself to fly!”

Valerie gasped out herself grunting as Danny flailed her body about before managing to cling to her. “I’m trying!” She shoots back angrily. She lets out a whine and closes her eyes in concentration before the glow around the ghostly body flares and they level out and tip upwards, earning a whoop of delight from Phantom.

“Head for the Catcher!” Phantom tells her.

“Again I’m trying you ectoplasmic pice of-”

Whatever she was going to say was cut off as they, by some miracle, had managed to head straight through the catcher. The pairs’ screams mix together and they end up on a heap on the other side with Jazz blinking down at them. “Did it work?” The ginger teen asked.

“Ow... Jazz?” Danny grumbled out. He raised a hand to his head to rub at his forehead and gave a pained whooped when he was able to see the glowing glove at the end of his limb. He offers a half hearted smile up to his sister before glaring at the queen who was being distracted by Sam and Tucker from wherever they had found cover in the nearby broken buildings.

“I got better at aiming I guess?” Jazz offered to give a hand to help up her half ghost brother. “I moved the Catcher to um, Catch you. I’m glad you didn’t smash into the metal siding, that would have hurt…”

“Thanks, Jazz I owe ya one,” Phantom says with a nod. “Get anyone who’s not protected out of here!” And with that Phantom flew off to attack the Queen ant.

Valerie was quick to pick herself back up and tar off after Phantom. “This is a temporary truce I hope you know!” She calls as she catches her board and flies off after the ghost, though even as she said it lacked her usual vitreal.

Thankfully once they were back in their own skin they made short work of the queen ant ghost, and even managed to not cause too much more property damage.

As Danny caps the thermos, he side eyes the Red huntress next to him in the air and offers the teen a hesitant hand. “I’m not gonna ask you to forgive me again but… maybe hesitant colleagues?”

Red eyed the ghost before her, his hesitant but hopeful smile that didn’t quite hide the worry and fear behind his eyes struck her more than anything. She used to think he was simply good at mimicking emotions but now… having felt them being him, herself? Well… she supposed the saying is true that you really can’t understand someone until you walk a mile in their shoes. His emotions felt real, on both sides she could taste the ones he was putting through her body, She felt pain when she was slapped by him… And she was finally able to see him as just another teen that was in over his head…. Dog ruining her life or not, though looking back on it now she had to admit it was something she was thankful for in a way.

She would see Paulina and her A list brainless wonders and know she used to be one of them. Caring too much about the wrong things and ruled by money in a way… Now? She knew she had to work to get anywhere, people liked her for her, not just her status and well… She had a purpose she could be proud of now.

“Yeah, Colleagues sounds like a good start… But step even a toe outta line and I will smear your ectoplasmic innards all over town.” Valerie threatened though she was teasing Phantom still grimaced as she grasped his hand. “Eh, I think I’ll take that…” he replied somewhat nervously.

“Good. Also… Maybe since you have one, I should give you my cell number… Case you ever need more than just some inventions as a backup.”

Phantom visibly brightened at that his glow got brighter and he grinned. “Yeah, that’d be perfect actually! Maybe we can trade off patrol routes and stuff too? Give each other a night off once in a while? I know you work so… ya know…?”

Valerie snorted but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. She looks around before pulling a random piece of paper from off of the ground and using some piece of charcoal from who knows what that exploded she managed to scribble down her number.

Phantom bit his tongue as he almost told her he had her number already, or that if he needed it he could easily get it with Tucker’s help but that wouldn’t do him any good now. He made it this far without blowing his secret, he wasn’t about to blow it on something stupid like this!

Though it did make him wonder why Valerie hadn’t changed back to Fanton at all accidentally. He sure as hell did constantly when he first started out, it was a nightmare and resulted in far more detentions than he would have liked… Well, maybe she just didn’t think it was a possibility? He didn’t want to think too hard on that right now honestly, it brought with it too many questions.

He took the paper from the huntress when she offered it and nodded to her in thanks. “See ya around ghost brat.” She said, almost endearingly before speeding off, no doubt to sleep.

Phantom watches her go a moment before heading off on his own way back towards where his friends were waiting for him. Oh they had angry looks didn’t they, fun…

He had a hell of an experience to tell, and some things he wanted to get advice on… he hated being the embodiment of an existential crisis all the time, but hey, at least it was interesting right?

He just hoped Val keeps her new attitude. He’d rather work with her than have to dodge her blasts all the time after all…. And a few nights off here and there sounded wonderful.

Only time will tell, he supposed.

-.-.-.-.-.-.- Complete

Total word count: 8875

#phic phight 2021 #Danny Phantom #danny fenton #valerie #red huntress #Switcheroo #Team Ghost

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