#favourite fics of the year

[buckbuckbarnesstuff]

since the 2024 is ending, what are your favorite fics from this year? 🤗 (also the ones you've wrote too)

You're so lovely for asking me this, thank you so much!! ❤

These are some of my favorite fics I've read this year and still think about on occasion:

Treacherous by @scrumptious-delusion

A Night of Frights & Delights + Lines Crossed + The Biker's Tulip + Boulevard Confessions by @elixirfromthestars

Blurred Lines by @ellemj

Cold libraries create warmer hearts + second part by @elvenrin

A dish served cold + Me & the Devil + Smog & Spirits by @artficlly

Time after time + About that night (the bugs and the dirt) by @intrepidacious

Unsolved by @shurisneakers

Requiem + Of all the ways to die by @thereoncewasagirlnamedjane

◇◇◇◇

And as for my own I think it has to be Two with College!Athlete Bucky in a corn maze au. It’s actually the one fic where I immediately started writing after the idea popped up in my head and I managed to write it all in one sitting. I also enjoyed how my most recent fic turned out. Whumpcember (day 12). I've never written about something like this and it was actually really fun!

[valtsv]

are we still doing this because i have a late submission

[dramioneasks]

Top 10 Most “Kudos-ed” (Completed) Fics on AO3 of 2024:

BLOODY, SLUTTY, AND PATHETIC by WhatMurdah - E, 21 chapters, Words: 195,969 - “In my humble opinion there’s only three things that men should be and that is bloody, slutty, and pathetic.” And, on a good day, Draco Malfoy can be all three. When war heroine Hermione Granger and Azkaban-tattooed war criminal Draco Malfoy are forced to wed as part of Shacklebolt’s controversial Reconciliation Act, they openly fight the match and each other—their public brawls breathlessly reported by the press. Secretly, a deeply traumatized Draco delights in Hermione’s attention and pines for a real marriage with her—even as her forced proximity to the Black family magic irritates the cursed scar Bellatrix left on her arm, reminding her why she can never truly trust or forgive him. Then Hermione discovers that Draco’s blood will soothe the scar . . . and Draco is willing to trade his blood for her body. (With post-war blood purity politics, black market potioneers, Pansy Parkinson’s career advice, the Malfoys blackmailing Hermione’s Wizengamot opposition, BDE Neville Longbottom hunting Death Eaters, a slutty Theo Nott serving as Draco’s right-hand man, and Crookshanks loose in Malfoy Manor.)

The Gallows by gillianeliza - E, 23 chapters, Words: 47,332 - Five years after the Battle of Hogwarts the Ministry of Magic has one more wizard to bring to trial: Draco Malfoy. However, it's not a trial they're after, it's a spectacle to celebrate the end of the Death Eater regime with the execution of their final prisoner. When Hermione realizes their plan, she halts the trial and invokes The Gallows Law — an ancient law that pardons any pureblood male without an heir if a witch will marry him. What Hermione isn't ready for is the reality of bonding a broken, shell of a wizard and her new life as she moves into Malfoy Manor as the new Lady Malfoy.

Meet Me In Dreamland by sinflower81 - E, 39 chapters, Words: 229,631 - If there’s one thing Hermione Granger is good at, it’s using magic to fix her problems. And this time, her problem is sex. Luckily, she has the perfect solution: a locket enchanted with the Patented Daydream Charm. Whenever she opens it, she’ll find herself in Dreamland, where she can live out all her filthiest fantasies risk-free. The magic is a bit tricky, though. For some reason, Malfoy keeps showing up there with her. Thank goodness it’s only an illusion—if that was really him, she would never live it down. Meanwhile, Draco is determined to figure out who the fuck is cursing him to suffer through highly realistic, erotic hallucinations of his secret childhood crush. When he finds the culprit, there will be hell to pay.

The Missing Sister by singularritae - M, 75 chapters, Words: 652,727 - The owl appeared late at night and left just as suddenly, he recognised the handwriting immediately and ripped open the envelope. She is yours. If something happens to us, I want you to hide her. Name her Hermione, for she will have my last libation before I sleep and be the messenger of dreamers. Moony and Mary know. Three words. Three words that forever changed the course of the war.

A Gallows Marriage by MilaBelle - E, 31 chapters, Words: 162,244 - “Glee was the last thing she felt staring into the empty eyes that should have been a bright grey. His face had always looked pointed and sharp, but now that gave way to gauntness. His hair, which he had been so particular about in school, hung long and limp. It reminded her of how his father had looked in his mugshot. How he had wanted to be just like his father growing up. And now he was, maybe more than ever. A ghost.” After doing more than her fair share in saving the Wizarding World and bearing the scars of what it cost, Hermione Granger thinks she has earned herself a little respite. But when a charismatic albeit chaotic Theodore Nott convinces her to use an old law to save a dear friend who is about to meet the Dementor’s Kiss, she simply cannot stand by and watch. Follow Hermione as she navigates a world that still believes in blood status, a marriage to save the life of an old enemy and the hurt that comes with surviving.

an ever-fixed mark by ninepiecesofcrait - E, 28 chapters, Words: 208,118 - It was a comedy of errors how Hermione Granger ended up engaged to Draco Malfoy, really. A series of unfortunate events. // Malfoy looked at his bloodied hand and the ring on the cobblestone floor, and sighed. “Well, Granger.” Grey eyes finally raised to look at her. “Now look what you’ve done.” // [while working to break a curse in malfoy’s cellar, hermione accidentally touches an enchanted betrothal heirloom from the noble house of black. things rapidly fall apart from there.]

The Best Mistake by Chels_Writes_a_Fic - E, 26 chapters, Words: 127,444 - Hermione Granger does not make mistakes, at least not often. After making the biggest, dumbest, most horrible mistake of her life, Hermione must deal with the repercussions while keeping her relationship with her Auror partner, Draco Malfoy, strictly professional. He, of course, has other plans. Amidst a resurgence in Death Eater activity, the likes of which Britain hasn’t seen since the First Wizarding War, Hermione will come to realize that the mistake she’s made with Draco might not be so bad at all. It just might be the best mistake.

disparate by Stars_in_motion - E, 4 chapters, Words: 40,708 - au where omegas who go neglected by their alpha for a long time often go into breakthrough heats when being around a different, compatible alpha who displays one (1) caretaking trait around them "You– you brought me supper?" Malfoy eyed her warily. "Don't look so stricken. Do you think I haven't noticed you've been starving yourself for days? You were at your desk when I arrived this morning and haven't moved since." He opened the box of fruit and plucked out a single grape with his sinfully long fingers. Still seated in her desk chair, Malfoy loomed over her entirely so she couldn't look anywhere else. Sometimes it was easier to forget how large he really was. "Now eat."

Mind the Bump by Soap1 - E, 28 chapters, Words: 84,050 - Hermione Granger and her colleague (and, though she sometimes hates to admit it, her friend) Theo Nott, are busy at the Research Institute for the Alchemical Sciences, working together on an innovative, though secretive, project that more than one person might like to get their hands on. She doesn't have much time for dating, and certainly isn't ready to think about starting a family. But after an exciting, though unexpected, one-night stand, she finds herself pregnant. With Draco Malfoy's baby. As her research continues, as her pregnancy progresses, will she be able to make room for Draco in her life?

Détraquée by Hystaracal - M, 108 chapters, Words: 728,097 - "All her growth was the conveying of a corpse of hope." (From 'The Rainbow', D.H. Lawrence) This is a story about coming into one's own, a meditation on the twilight of girlhood and the violence of crash-landing into womanhood. Follow Hermione as she navigates through the quagmire: Saving the world, getting top grades, falling in love, lust, and a whole lot of trouble, and comes out of it hopefully (at least) partially sane.

[lazylittledragon]

gang i am cooking the AU of all time in my brain right now but devastatingly i have work tomorrow

[a-pigeons-soliloquy]

been reading non-hannibal fanfic for the first time in like 2 years and have come to the tragic realisation that the hannibal fandom has ruined me when it comes to fic quality

like my standards are so ridiculously high now. the bar is on the moon

you've all ruined me. RUINED ME I SAY

[itsriotmotherfuckers]

Whenever I get comments on my fics I’m just like “oh you like my writing? You enjoyed this enough to tell me? How do you feel about a fall wedding? Or spring or summer or winter I’m not picky, whenever you want. I will literally take a bullet for you”

[comediantragedy]

do you ever find that fanfiction that’s so good that it fundamentally changes your view on that character/relationship forever and you still think about it years later even when you’re not in the fandom anymore

[merlinoutofcontext]

your casual reminder from your local merlin veteran to download copies of your fav merlin fics especially if they're older ones so that if they disappear with the passage of time you will still always have them.

[crossthread]

No jokes here. The Navy’s best pilot and the Navy’s best admiral. Between them, eight air-to-air combat kills and five stars. These were men who commanded respect with or without your approval. This was the picture of ruthless competence.

Debriefing (& Other Stories) • part 2 of Easier Done Than Said by @compacflt

[kmesons]

zane julien you will always be special to me

[dramioneasks]

Top 10 Most Favourited (Completed) Fics on FFNET of 2024:

Manhattan by KindaCrazy02 - T, 19 chapters, Words: 48,912 - What Draco absolutely does not account for in his schedule is crashing– literally– into Hermione Granger. Hermione Granger, who has been all but considered to be a missing person for the last eight months.

Footsteps in the Snow by cleotheo - T, 19 chapters, Words: 48,912 - When Hermione Granger finds herself with a stalker, she is worried about the safety of her young daughter. Things take a sinister turn when all the evidence suggests that her stalker is someone close to home. Is someone she trusts really her tormentor, and if so why are they doing it?

Last Christmas by cleotheo - T, 8 chapters, Words: 20,876 - When Ron, Lavender and Ginny get a chance to spend Christmas at the launch event of a fancy new hotel, there are festive surprises and shock reunions in store for the trio. Reunion style Christmas story.

Private Party by cleotheo - M, one-shot - At the end of year party she organised the Head Girl, Hermione Granger, is hurt to overhear her fellow students giving her fellow head all the praise for the party as they consider her dull and boring. With the help of the Head Boy, Draco Malfoy, Hermione decides to be spontaneous and prove to everyone, herself included, that she is not the dull bookworm they all thought. One Shot.

She Whom He Harbors by EllieEckert - M, 42 chapters, Words: 352,676 - Hermione, on a Ministry mission with Harry & Ginny, is attacked by a mysterious creature in a cave on lands of an unknown owner. The effects are immediate and profound - she is dissociated, her soul and body cleaved. Research indicates the cure requires pleasure - but the only person available to give it to her is a reluctant and ragey Draco Malfoy, who has been trapped too.

25,000 Out of 10 by Acantha Rayne Oak-Moon - M, 6 chapters, Words: 15,419 - If you're rating wizards with a friend, don't let Slytherins overhear you.

Hermione Granger and the House of Snakes by Eldyra - T, 6 chapters, Words: 15,949 - Hermione comes to Hogwarts and is sorted into Slytherin instead of Gryffindor. Part 1 of the "House of Snakes" series, which will eventually have seven parts. Later parts will be considerably longer and as of 4th year, there will be Dramione. Rating is for later parts of the series as I want to keep it consistent.

Snippets by KindaCrazy02 - M, 38 chapters, Words: 95,051 - It starts slowly, little snippets here and there– an image of a garden, her hands adorned with unfamiliar mittens while snow falls around her, the cupboard in her kitchen where she keeps her mugs but with a few new ones added.

Christmas Kisses by LittleSixx - M, 4 chapters, Words: 23,307 - MP Hermione Granger's friends are spending Christmas at Malfoy Manor because Blaise Zabini plans to propose to his boyfriend, Dean Thomas. Turns out everyone in attendance is conspiring to couple her up with the only other uncoupled guest ... Who happens to be the host.

Sit Beside Me by Emara88 - M, 15 chapters, Words: 91,663 - The war has ended, and Draco is forced to make a choice. Either return to Hogwarts and join the lost students completing their Eighth Year NEWTs or join the other Death Eaters in Azkaban. It's a no brainer, as long as he puts his head down and keeps to himself. So why can't he stop obsessing over a certain know-it-all witch whose mere presence keeps distracting him?

(Note: This will be the last time I make a Year Wrap-Up for FFNET. Over the years, more and more readers and authors have been leaving the site to go over to AO3 due to FFNET's policies about smut and other graphic content. As such there are just fewer and fewer fics being posted on the site. Have no fear though, I will still post fics from the site periodically, just no more wrap-ups.)

[ethereance]

Au where Lance is a florist and one day Allura comes in slams a 20 dollar/gac bill on the counter and angrily asks how to say "fuck you" in flower

Ooooo, a classic. Allurance flower shop au let’s gooooo

***

When Lance was younger, he dreamed of reaching towards the stars.

But then the stars came to him.

Aliens—their existence was a mystery no longer. Area 51 couldn’t build a facility big enough to contain the ships that suddenly made it onto the scene, one so remarkably like every alien invasion film ever that everyone was prepared for the worst. They sat and awaited the end.

It never came.

And suddenly Lance was looking up no longer. All the adventure was on his doorstep, in the streets of Plaht city, a hot pot for human and alien life alike, all so intermingled it’s like it was always so, the days of Lance’s childhood a distant memory. There’s something in this community here, something that’s kept him tied, feet planted in soil. It’s the greatness of it all, in a universe so large, so vast, much more so than he ever imagined.

He’d feel small, out there. Here, he has his family, and a taste of the unreachable.

(“I’m sorry you didn’t get into the garrison,” Veronica had said, the rejection letter in her hand. Now the stars are closer than ever, technology capable, the call to flight had swept up his entire generation. Overwhelmed in numbers, he hadn’t made the cut.

Veronica ruffled his hair. It eased the pain, somewhat. “They don’t know what they’re missing out on,” she’d said.

Lance sniffled. “Maybe.”)

So, maybe he didn’t get into pilot school. Maybe he didn’t go to the stars himself because Earth kept ahold of his shoes and tugged. Maybe he’s still here, in the same place because a dream died in his heart.

And he’s fine with that, really. The sting has left him. And he’s not trying to convince himself otherwise. Not with the vastness of the universe, and the knowledge that, wherever he’d go, he’d miss home.

Lance is at peace with continuing the family business. With staying here, with them. For them.

Mostly.

More so now than when he was younger.

The Serrano’s floristry shop ‘Florrano’s’ has been in the family a fair few generations, long enough that the shop has become a bit of an heirloom itself. Even after the chaos the arrival of their interstellar friends caused, the shop has stood strong, ever resilient. Even if it were to have fallen, it would have been built again. Family roots are like that.

Lance likes to think that he’s taken to the business quite well, in fact, well enough that he’s known as the flower tailor around these parts, a name that, though he may have given to himself, is one he’s sure that others are calling him. He’s certain—it’s cool. Like him. Lance makes the best arrangements on the block. And he’s competing with that olkari run shop, so you know he’s good.

He’s the flower tailor, after all.

Any occasion, he has the flowers. Weddings, funerals, apologies—

***

“Excuse me, tell me, how would you go about saying ‘fuck you’ in flower?”

Lance blinks. “… Huh?”

It’s been a steady day, really. A few customers in to browse, a bulk purchase for in upcoming event, and someone looking for the most expensive bouquet to salvage his relationship—not that Lance has much faith in flowers being able to save that. The guy seemed like a grade A jerk. No, an A+++.

But other than that, steady.

And then in comes this hurricane of white hair making a beeline for the till, slamming down ten, no, twenty GAC onto the counter, and suddenly grade A+++ jerk guy is already fading from Lance’s mind.

“Did I not say it right?” says the woman, frowning, her head tilted in askance. She’s got this accent—English perhaps, a slight lilt to her words that makes him think he’s speaking with someone who’d outstretch their pinky when sipping a cup of tea, regal, refined. Or perhaps there’s some sort of space equivalent, because one look at her ears tells him he’s speaking to an altean, and a gorgeous one at that. He allows dreamy bubbles to float across his vision for the bliss of about one second before he remembers that a) she’s talking to him and b) he probably hadn’t hallucinated the vein that had popped on her forehead. This woman had not shown that GAC any mercy, slamming it down like that.

“The human language has so many curses,” she continues. “Hmmm… I want this.” Lance almost chokes on his own spit when she pulls out a middle finger on him. “In flower.”

“Yeah, I heard you loud and clear the first time, lady,” says Lance, his hands raised in defence. He motions to her. “You can put that thing away.”

Her cheeks darken, an embarrassed flush as she lowers her hand, now rigid at her side. “Oh, right. Sorry. I’m… a little out of sorts.”

Lance goes for an easy, relaxed smile. The kind he uses when he turns up the charm—ladies totally dig it. “Hey no worries, I can forgive a pretty face like yours.”

Well, they usually dig it, deep enough to tunnel in. This woman just gives him and his Lance ™ wink this unimpressed look as his insides wither and die. Oh to have that tunnel—he’d love for a getaway right now. “Hmm.”

Lance clears throat, resolving to pretend that just straight up never happened. He can play this off, he can play this off. “You know, people don’t usually say that in flower. Usually in words, just to keep things from getting confusing.”

“Believe me, I’ve tried. But Lotor just doesn’t want to get the message.”

She’s a talker, it seems. Lance may be getting his dose of drama today. “Lotor?” he pries.

“He’s my ex.”

“Ooof. Rough breakup?”

“Putting it mildly,” she says, and he can see it in her eyes—the emotionally wringing flashback she’s thrown through, all amounting to one singular wince. “So, do you have any flowers that could help?”

“Ahaha, now that’s where you’re in luck,” says Lance, slipping past her from around the counter. He starts pulling up several flowers from around the shop, talking as he goes. “You’d want a bouquet with orange lilies in for sure, maybe some geraniums… and some yellow carnations. Anyone well versed in flower would know a hatred bouquet when they saw one.”

Lance stops, meeting her eyes. He’s listed off the flower equivalent of an all out verbal assault, no remorse, completely soul crushing stuff. If he were the recipient, him and his self esteem would never recover, but—

“But something tells me you need a little more than subtle. Something that speaks to him in a language he can’t ignore, so he knows your lovely rose has thorns.”

She considers this. “Then what do you propose?”

“Lotor—that’s a galran name, right?” Lance thinks that’s what they’re called, the fuzzy purple ones. Lotor’s got something distinctly galran about it. He swears he’s hard the name somewhere before.

“Well, derived from both altean and galran history, but yes.”

“Thought so.” Lance puts down his collection of flowers onto the counter, and dives into the ‘staff only’ room, back where they keep and grow some of their more exotic plants. Veronica’s job at the garrison had got them in contact with one of their most reliable suppliers, Colleen Holt. And the amount of alien plants she’s come across—man. Supplied from anyone else, Lance would assume she was trying to get them killed with carnivorous foliage. But no, alien plants are just weird and wonderful like that. He picks up an incredibly velvety looking plant, its petals a deep rouge seeping into black, jagged edges making the petals themselves look like they’re laced with thorns, though they’re as soft as they come. A few snips, and Lance has enough for a bouquet, should the woman want them. He exits back out to the till, waving the flowers upon return.

“See, this here is—”

“Grunarvexus,” the woman finishes for him, her eyes widening in recognition.

“Yep! That’s the one. Others call it the galran catastrophe plant. They see it as a bad omen—always growing in places of calamity.” He grins, sharp, smug. “It would be pretty hard to ignore a bouquet with these in.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t consider it before. Please, I’d like you to add some grunarvexus to those orange lilies, and the other two.” She looks at her cash, still where she had slammed it down earlier. “Would this be enough to cover it?”

“More than enough, but for you? I can offer a discount.” Not that his parents would be pleased, but you know. Cute girl. “I’d say on the house, but a guy’s gotta put food on the table somehow.”

Sharp eyes—he feels the sting of her skepticism. “What’s with the charitable mood?”

Lance shrugs. Says it how it is. “This ex of yours does not sound worth your money.”

Seriously. For a guy to fumble this girl as bad as he did? Not even worth a cent. Or GAC in this case.

“I suppose you’re right.” Her lip twitches into a light smile, amusement a gift like sunrise on her face, positively radiant. She glances at his name tag. “Thank you… Lance.”

The way she says his name, something in Lance’s heart stutters, caught on the ghost of an r that reshapes his name to her design—something so spectacular in a nickname that isn’t really a nickname at all.

“No problem,” he says, sounding a little faint. With her attention on him arranging the bouquet, tying it up with a nice, black ribbon, he hopes the rising heat to his face goes unnoticed. “Just doing my job, Princess.”

“Princess? How did—” She cuts herself off, looking down at her shirt, its bright pink declaration that she’s a ‘princess’ inspiration for the endearment. “Oh. I forgot I put this one on. I’m Allura. Just Allura. And certainly not a princess.”

“I don’t know,” he draws out. “You seem like one to me.”

“I assure you I’m not!”

“Well then,” Lance says, putting her bouquet through the till. “Here’s your change ‘just Allura’.”

“Thank you,” Allura says, taking the change and the flowers along with it. Her eyes trail the shop, admiration soft, tender, every plant truly a marvel under her eyes, and Lance’s chest swells with pride, cosy and warm in its golden glory. Maybe this isn’t his original dream, but he’s proud of his work, proud of what his family has built here. “You have a wonderful shop—I’m glad Romelle told me about this place.”

Romelle—he knows that name. A regular, one who often stops by with her brother—Bandana? Banana, no, Bandor, he thinks—and, like Allura here, an altean too. She’s chatty, friendly, and even brought him in some of her freshly baked blomfruit pie when he let slip about his breakup with Jenny. He’s still gotta get her recipe for that, and ask her what a blomfruit even is.

“Oh, um, thanks! You know Romelle?”

“She’s a friend.” Allura gives him a strange look. “One who may have had ulterior motives in brining me here.”

“… Huh?”

“No matter,” she says, already heading towards the door. “Take care, Lance.”

“You too,” he says, caught in a daze. He shakes himself to, brings back some of his ol’ Lancey Lance confidence. “Oh, and Allura? If the flowers don’t work and he’s still bothering you, we could always turn this flower shop au into a fake dating one. You know where to find me.”

Allura looks back at him, apparently just to make a show off rolling her eyes before she leaves. “I’ll consider it.”

(And like a star—she comes to him, brilliant, blinding, beautiful.

He may not be a pilot, but in this moment, his heart learns to soar.)

[basalting]

it takes a village

we did it!!!!! its technically just past midnight where i live but its still the 12th somewhere right (laughs nervously)

day seven of @jasontoddweek2025 - return - outsider POV - crime alley

jason todd & crime alley - threatened sexual assault (no assault occurs), threatened violence against children (no children are harmed) - 3826 words

No one is happy when Red Hood rolls into town.

He’s loud and flashy, he’s dumping heads at the police station and chasing Black Masks boys around. Just another asshole, mucking around in the mess of Crime Alley. It’s just another playground for men like him.

So people keep their heads down, prepare to weather the storm his ambitions bring.

———

Katherine is cursing her life and the subway and fucking professor fucking Morrisen when she carefully walks out of the station. The sun had long since set and her cheap, shitty apartment was a 20 minute long walk in the dark on a Friday night.

Fuck Elias Morrisen and his fucking essay, she thought, if I get stabbed because he wanted to bitch about my homework I’m going to kill him.

Katherine set her shoulders, slotted her keys between her knuckles and set off.

Head down, eyes forward, don’t look or react or stop. Just keep walking until you get where you’re going.

The muggy are was almost oppressive, hanging over her like a shroud as she hurried along. It was just early enough that the first round of rowdy drunks hadn’t been kicked out of bars yet, aside from a few catcalls she’d been ignored.

“What’re you doin’ out late honey?”

Shit. Katherine dared a glance, lurking down an alley were a group of men. As she watched one of them lit a smoke, the flare of the lighter threw the black and white coin emblem on his shirt into view. Two Face’s Halfpenny Boys, Katherine looked away, kept walking.

Mutters burst out behind her as she hurried away, “Hey!” It was the same voice, “I was talkin’ to ya bitch! Where you going so fast? Got some other John to get to?”

The men burst into laughter, she could hear them moving. Getting closer.

She grit her teeth, if there was- Was a store or something. A 7/11, maybe? She could hide out there, at least be somewhere with cameras. Fist clenched tightly around her keys, Katherine sped up - not quite jogging, hoping desperately for something. Why couldn’t she remember where the nearest store was? She’d been at the apartment for months.

“Got somewhere to be huh? Why don’t you wanna have a chat with us? We’re real nice right bo-“

The man behind her stopped abruptly as Katherine slammed into someone. Carefully she looked up, Big. She thought, the man was tall and broad - easily large enough to engulf her entirely. And he was wearing a featureless red helmet.

Red Hood. Fuck.

“H-Hey Hood,” The man called out, “You wanna hang with us?” His voice growing stronger as Hood stood, patiently maybe? The helmet hid his expressions, Katherine tried to force her breathing steady, hoping against hope she could get out of this. “We were gonna have some fun tonight.”

“You with these idiots?”

“W-What?”

“You with them?” Red Hood jerked his chin towards the men behind her, his fists clenched in his gloves, the leather creaking.

Resigned, Katherine shook her head, “No. I’m trying to get home.” The chances of Red Hood doing anything about the Halfpenny boys was low, but there had to of been at least six of them. At least if she went with Hood instead it’d only be him, “I can-“

Red Hood flowed past her, ducking around her smoothly without touching her, and punched the first man in the gut.

“Hey! What the fuc-“

Then he pulled out a handgun, shooting the downed man in the gut. Everyone froze.

“I don’t like it. When little fucks like you, bother nice girls just trying to get home.” Something about his helmet distorted his voice, turned it flat and dangerous. The Halfpenny boys had gone pale and their buddy on the ground was whimpering in pain. Hood pointed the gun at the downed mans head, “Now you can either pick up your trash and get the fuck outta Crime Alley, or I shoot this stupid fuck in the head and then start hunting the rest of you down. I’ll send you back to Two Face in pieces, divisions of two even, cause I’m a nice guy like that.”

“Y-You got it man. We’ll- We’ll go! We promise.” Stuttering apologies a couple of the guys crept forward, hauled their buddy up which made him scream in pain, and dragged him away. Maybe to a clinic, more likely to go bleed out in a gutter somewhere. Katherine let out a shaky breath as Red Hood turned back to her.

She didn’t know what he’d want from her, why he’d stepped in at all. Most people wouldn’t of, those men had been packing heat. He didn’t come any closer, just tucked the, still loaded, gun into the holster almost hidden by his jacket.

“Sorry about that.”

It would’ve been absurdly casual from anyone else, the helmet and distorter made it intimidating. “’S fine.” She said quickly, “Can I… Go?”

Hood nodded, body language open and casual, almost non-threatening. Which was wild to see from a guy who’d just (probably) mortally wounded someone and threatened another five.

“You get home safe miss.”

Miss. She thought dazed, A gangster just called me ‘miss.’

“Sure, uh, thanks Mr Hood. For the save.”

Before he could do anything else weird, or before he could reveal he’d been lulling her into a false sense of security and threaten to shoot her too. Katherine hurried away, her roommates were not going to believe her about this shit.

———

Alicia Montgomery had lived through the evolution of Park Row to Crime Alley, had seen the hookers and gangsters and dirty cops. The way all those fancy politicians had turned away from Park Row as if they would all stop existing if they kept their eyes closed. Well Alicia Montgomery kept her damn eyes open.

She’d walked these streets since she was a little girl, met her Peter here - fool of a man who fell and damn near broke his ankle in front of her. When she’d asked him if he was alright, he’d just stared at her, then told her he’d tripped falling for her. They’d skipped school to sit on a fire escape, just talking for hours. She’d loved that man every day of her damn life, married him and raised three beautiful children with him and buried him too young.

Park Row had done it’s damnedest to chew her up and spit her out, but Alicia was Gotham born and bred and she wasn’t an easy woman to push around. She’d seen the strange and the explainable and the frankly bizarre. But it was still something to look up from where she was sitting on her front stoop to see what’d scared her pigeons away, and see the newest in the line of thugs looking to rule Park Row across the street with some of his Red Hood gang members picking up trash.

For a long moment Alicia just blinked at them, but there they were, bold as brass and all. Red Hood in his stupid helmet with a black plastic bag and a bright yellow sharps container on his belt. Picking up trash.

Something, morbid curiosity maybe, made her slowly rise up. The birds she fed had flown off anyway and she’d been almost out of food for today anyway, it might not hurt, to take a closer look.

The streets and alleys of Park Row were always filled with trash, if any of those costumed idiots wanted to steal a garbage truck without it being noticed than they’d inevitably end up taking one of the few that still went to Park Row. Most people knew they either had to haul their trash to the dumpsters behind stores, which had a better chance of being picked up, or if you had a car, take it to the dump yourself. A lot of people chose to do neither and just dumped their trash wherever they liked.

A couple of Hood’s people stiffened as she approached, it was almost flattering, that they thought an old woman like her would be able to do anything to a man with Red Hood build. But well, you didn’t need to be strong to use a gun, she supposed.

A short woman with a burn scar twisting the skin of her jaw and neck narrowed her eyes, muttered something to Red Hood and he turned to her. His red helmet was smooth and featureless, no indication of any facial features and nothing to show that he could hear or see her.

“What are you doing?” A few of Hood’s people jerked when she spoke, at least three people dropped their hands to some sort of concealed weapon. Alicia kept her eyes on Hood’s helmet, waited to see how he’d react.

Hood raised a hand, motioned for the others to go. With a ripple of grumbling they spread out, snapping on gloves and shaking out garbage bags. The burned woman stayed close, stepping back to lean against a wall pretending to be absorbed in her phone. Alicia had no doubt that if she made any moves the woman didn’t like, she’d end up with a bullet in the head. There’d been a lot of gang leaders in Park Row, in Gotham as a whole, and none of them had ever done something like this, not even when they were pretending to be on the straight and narrow.

What was Red Hood up to?

“We’re cleaning up,” Red Hood said, his helmet turned his words strange and robotic, aesthetic or necessity? Alicia wondered. “This is the second block, we’ll haul all this shit to the dump. Get it a little cleaner for everyone.”

Alicia hummed, looked up at him in his fancy gear with his fancy helmet and his robot voice. “None of the gang leaders before have cared about the trash before,” She said, more statement than accusation. “What do you get outta cleaning up?”

Hood’s head tilted, weak sunlight making the smooth, glass like surface of his helmet glow, “I live here too ma'am.”

Simple, humble, ‘I live here too.’

Alicia was too Gotham to believe in faith, to trust anyone so easily. But there was something about this boy, and he had to be a boy her intuition screamed it to her, she could see why the burned lady was so protective. She smiled, reached out slowly to gently pat his muscled forearm,.

“Well then, gimme a minute to get into some working clothes and I’ll come help you young folk out.”

Hood jolted, “You don’t have to, we’ve got it handled. We can-“

“Young man.” Her voice was firm, “I do have to, after all,” She squeezed his wrist gently, “I live here too.”

Then she turned and hurried across the street, it could still be a scheme, a ploy of some kind. But for today the Red Hood was here, cleaning Park Row up in a way no gangster or vigilante or politician had bothered to do since she was a little girl. And she’d be damned if she didn’t lend a hand.

———

Ye-jun was late, his beloved daughter Ha-eun had woken up with an ear ache. Which meant she woke up screaming and crying inconsolably, she’d fought him with all her two-year-old might when he forced the drops into her ears. Even now, almost 40 minutes later, she was letting out soft hiccuping sobs into his chest as he rushed down the street to work.

Her daycare wouldn’t take her until she had a doctors note proving she wasn’t sick and even if they would’ve taken her, the daycare was on the other side of the Bowery. He’d be almost 3 hours late for work if he took her at this time.

“Appa,” Ha-eun whimpered as a car honked furiously, her little hand coming up to hover over her sore ear. “It’s loud.”

“I know baby,” He murmured, pressing a quick kiss to her hair as he waited for the light to change. “We’re almost at Daddy’s work, you can have a nap in the office okay?”

Ha-eun sighed deeply, sunk heavier into his arms. Not for the first time since he’d woken to a screaming toddler, Ye-jun missed Val. Also not for the first time, he cursed the thief that had decided the change from her register was unsatisfactory, and made Valerie pay for it with her life. Don’t think about it. He told himself firmly, Just focus on getting through the day. Ha-eun needs you.

“Sorry I’m late,” Ye-jun called out, cradling the back of Ha-eun’s head as he rushed into the small office at the ship yard.

“Gene!” Joel yelled happily, Ye-jun forced down a wince. Joel had hired him years ago and, after Val, had told him to bring Ha-eun to work whenever. It was worth having their names butchered to keep this job, a lot of people had it a lot worse than him. “How’s little Hay-yoon, huh?”

Joel roared with laughter, making Ha-eun start to whimper. Ye-jun needed Joel to leave, Ha-eun was already overstimulated. The last thing any of them needed was for her to throw a tantrum and scream the whole office down around their heads.

“Still got an ear ache,” Ye-jun winced with a fake laugh, bouncing her gently in his aching arms. “She’ll probably go down for a nap soon so I can get the arrivals all logged before she wakes up.”

“No rush, no rush.” Even attempting to be quiet Joel was uncomfortably loud, but Ye-jun appreciated the effort. “I’ll get outta your hair and let you handle all… that.”

Joel shot the clunky computer Ye-jun used for work an almost frightened look, technologically inclined, Joel Watson was not. And then finally, finally the office door closed behind him and it was just Ye-jun and Ha-eun and the old ceiling fan that clicked with every spin.

Ye-jun turned on the computer and then focused on getting Ha-eun set up while it loaded everything. From his duffel bag he pulled out some snacks, her water bottle, several colouring books and Chi-chi - her bright red Clifford the dog plushie.

Hidden behind his desk was a small bean bag and bookshelf, the top three shelves had Ye-jun’s work supplies. Folders of approved shipping accounts, meticulous notes of containers received and departure times and a copy of every law, mandate and advisory the Gotham City council had released regarding the ports for the last 8 years, ready to be referenced.

This job wasn’t glamorous, wasn’t exciting or even very challenging outside of the sheer volume of work he had to do, but it kept his daughter with a roof over her head and food in her belly and that was all he could bring himself to care about.

Hours later Ye-jun rubbed his aching eyes, so far he’d managed to avoid the Asian stereotype of needing glasses but the strain of squinting at ship numbers on a database was making him feel like he’d need them sooner rather than later.

Ha-eun was sleeping, worn out from playing and colouring, tucked into a the gap he’d made between the wall and an old filing cabinet. He’d brought a spare quilt and pillow from the apartment and Ha-eun delighted in making a little nest for herself and Chi-chi. He was just considering getting up for a stretch and checking on her when the office door slammed open, Ye-jun flinched back, staring at the broad figure in the doorway. Dark pants, brown leather jacket, and a bright. Red. Helmet.

“Red Hood…”

“And I don’t even need an introduction.”

The man’s voice was harsh, robotic; that featureless helmet tilted. Beneath it, he must of been looking around the room. Please, Ye-jun thought, Please Ha-eun stay asleep. Please, please, please don’t be noticed.

“What- What do you want?” His voice shook, Ye-jun kept himself stiff. He couldn’t look towards where Ha-eun was sleeping, had to hope Red Hood wouldn’t notice the bean bag.

“I need information on a shipment Eugene, and since our friend Mr Watson wasn’t very helpful for me, I’ve come to you.” Red Hood put a hand on his hip, showing off the holstered gun. “Think you can help me Eugene?”

Licking his lips, Ye-jun stuttered out, “Wh-What shipment are you…?”

“Some asshole looking to stir the pot shipped a fuck ton of fear toxin tainted drugs into Gotham from this ship yard, and I need to know who Eugene.”

“What?” Fear toxin filled drugs? Jesus, things were bad enough when Scarecrow got out. The thought of people high and driven out of their minds with fear made him shiver. “I- I have shipping manifests but. It’s not like they just put drugs on the damn things when they fill them out!”

In a swift, almost too fast to catch movement, Red Hood had the pistol aimed at his head. The words died in Ye-jun’s throat, Red Hood’s voice was a low growl when he spoke. “Someone in this stupid little shipping yard has the info I need, so you can either give me what you have… Or I take it.”

If he kills you, what will happen to Ha-eun? Ye-jun thought, Val was an orphan and Umma and Appa are on the other side of the fucking country. If you die, she’ll be alone.

Despite himself, despite knowing he shouldn’t, Ye-jun’s eyes darted to the hollow where Ha-eun was sleeping. Red Hood spun on his heel, stalked towards the file cabinets.

“Wait!” Ye-jun gasped, terror a living thing - clawing up his throat. “I can- I can show you my files. It’s on the computer!”

He flung himself forward, clipping the corner of the desk with his hip. The pain was faint, drowned under desperation. Red Hood hadn’t even twitched, gloved hand reaching for the filing cabinet as the other hand swung up to point the gun at him again. The top drawer of the cabinet was ripped open with a screech, Ye-jun stepped closer - ignoring the gun.

And Ha-eun lurched up from her nest, hair messy and eyes mostly closed.

“Appa,” She groaned, “Ear hurts.”

Red Hood froze, helmet tilted down to where Ha-eun was rubbing her face with her fists, one of Chi-chi’s ears clenched in her hand. “Please,” Ye-jun whispered, “Please, please don’t hurt her.”

Ha-eun looked up at Red Hood’s looming figure, squinted at his bright red helmet, looked down to squint at Chi-chi’s bright red fur. Held Chi-chi up.

“Chi-chi?”

“What.” Red Hood growled.

“Chi-chi.” Ha-eun said firmly, awkwardly climbing out of the blankets. Ye-jun snatched her up, tucking her into his side as she whined to get down, watching Red Hood carefully.

“I don’t know anything about any drugs,” He said quickly, “Check my computer and the logs, I just review footage and confirm arrivals and departures. I don’t know anything.”

Red Hood kept his helmet turned towards them, Ha-eun squirmed, grunting with the effort of trying to get out of his arms.

“Sit down,” Red Hood’s voice was still harsh and robotic but the knife edge of violence in his body language was gone. “I don’t hurt kids Eugene, I’ll find what I need and go.”

Slowly, Ye-jun backed up, sinking down into his desk chair again. He kept an eye on Red Hood, even as the man seemingly dismissed them and focused on a file he’d just pulled out.

“Appa,” Ha-eun said, voice rising into a whine as she tugged on her red ear, “Hurts.”

“I know baby,” He whispered, dragging over the bag, “I’ll give you your drops.”

Ha-eun lent into his chest with a huff, letting him stroke back her hair while he carefully squeezed out the medicated drops. On the other side of the room, Red Hood didn’t react to any of the noises, just dropped the file on top of the cabinet and pulled out another one. Ha-eun smacked Chi-chi into his chest, “Chi-chi too.”

“Is Chi-chi’s ear sore too?”

“Uh-huh,” Ha-eun nodded, kicking her legs, “Extra, extra sore.”

Under her watchful eyes, Ye-jun put the capped bottle of drops in Chi-chi’s ears, Ha-eun pulled the plush in close running her hands over it’s fur. Then she pointed at Red Hood, “Big Chi-chi too, Appa.”

He choked, lashing out to grab Ha-eun’s arm to pull it down before Red Hood noticed.

“Why,” Ye-jun tensed but Red Hood’s head was angled down, looking at Ha-eun, “Why am I Chi-chi too?”

“Cause you’re red.” She said it like it was obvious, brandishing Chi-chi to Red Hood’s helmet.

“Guess you’re right.”

The silence was almost… Awkward, as Red Hood blatantly stuffed the three folders into a bag he’d kept tucked close to his side. “It- The name on these files is Ye-jun,” He felt a small burst of surprise at the clear pronunciation, despite the robotic voice filter. “Is that-?”

“It’s my name,” Ye-jun said cautiously, “Joel just thinks it’s easier to call me Gene so…” He almost wanted to shrug, almost wanted to laugh. Why would a crime lord care about a small time ship yard admin worker having his name mispronounced?

Red Hood grunted, the sound turned strange by his voice filter, and shoved the filing cabinet drawer closed.

“Anyway,” Red Hood nodded at them both, stomping towards the door, “Thanks Ye-jun, sorry about-“ He waved a hand, gesturing at the office in general, “I believe you that you’re not involved with this, if you aren’t - you shouldn’t see me again. If you are,” Red Hood casually rested a hand on the holstered gun, “you will.”

With that the man stomped out the door, Ye-jun followed him to the door, less out of politeness and more to make sure he actually left. The entire afternoon felt insane, he wasn’t entirely sure why they hadn’t been killed. What kind of crime lord apologised for getting someone’s name wrong?

“Bye Chi-chi!” Ha-eun yelled, waving and flinging Chi-chi around as she did so. Red Hood hesitated and then, almost awkwardly, waved back before disappearing around a corner. Ye-jun slumped back against the door frame, weak kneed with relief.

“You’re an angel,” He whispered to Ha-eun, pressing kisses to her cheeks, “And Umma is definitely watching over you.”

Ha-eun giggled, pressed a big, slobbery kiss to his cheek and then beamed. “I like big Chi-chi, can he come tomorrow too?”

“Um, no. Sorry baby, b-big Chi-chi,” Ye-jun choked slightly at calling a fucking crime lord ‘big Chi-chi,’ “Is too busy to come tomorrow.”

“Oh.” She frowned, “Can I draw him a picture? For when he comes back?”

Ye-jun sighed, surrendered and said “Yeah baby, you can draw big Chi-chi a picture.”

Still alive, cradling his still alive daughter, Ye-jun went back to pack up his bag. Fuck work, they were going home.

[knocking-on-peoples-non-doors]

“When they say ‘coat’…”

“They’ll bally well have to retire the word!”

Inspired by A Study in Lavender by @oriley42 ! a fic i go back to time and again bc it is so sweet and lovely and funny and well-written.

[kyouka-supremacy]

lizandre on ao3 writes some cool stuff that looks at the sskk dynamic post mortal enemies thing that i think you might like? 'inside you there is meat. it moves' is like my favourite fic that i have ever read, its more an atsushi character study but there's sskk in there and it kinda touches on how their lives could integrate when theyre not trying to kill each other anymore.

Omg please tell me about it, I love their writing so much, it's spectacular!!! I'm especially enamoured with their Atsushi characterization, it's really one of my favorite out there; I particularly recommend i’m safe! i’m whole! i've got it under control!, which uses a kind of imaginary that's similar to the one you're mentioning here, and it's an absolutely groundbreaking piece of writing.

I adore those fics and that only speaks of how spot on you were with the kind of characterization I like, so thank you and Anon if you stumble across any more recommendations please don't heistate to hit me up!!!

[lesbians4armand]

i am a firm third person perspective fic writer, and i believe that first person works better in original fiction that fanfic, but the perspective that im always torn over is second person, because it’s either really bad or really good. i strongly dislike reader fics where its “you do x” and its like. i would not do that. but writing second person in the context of “you” being an existing character can be so good. so good