#given their shared abilities of transformation! hope it's okay!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fleetsonourgecentral · 5 months ago

Note

Hey sorry for throwing this on you suddenly but aghhh I can’t take it anymore

We need to talk about Scourge coming in actual contact with Fleetway’s chaos energy. Sooner or later it’s bound to happen with all the batshit insanity that goes on that universe.

It’s so easy to say he would have a super crazed form much like Sonic’s. But there’s so much to possibly speculate because the strange way chaos energy works there. Scourge also originally absorbed master emerald energy from the Prime universe and I absolutely refuse to believe it just made him permanently green with a tiny power boost!

Some have suggested that Super Scourge would actually have a more docile gentler personality based on the fact Fleetway’s Evil King Sonic turns good when he absorbs chaos energy. So apply that to Scourge’s case. While everyone is relieved that he’s on their side, Sonic just gets pissed off ofc because that’s not his Scourge at all. Like okay he’s nice too nice, good, but give me back the green asshole I care about.

He could also possibly transform at will though rather than being emotion-based. (though it’ll be fucking hilarious whenever Scourge feels really happy and is just like aw fuck c’mon just let me be happy in the inside—super form)

He still wouldn’t largely remember what he did though when he’s Super (maybe exist as a voice in Super’s head at times) and Sonic bullies him for all the good deeds he does but is likely too flustered to talk about him at first

There can be still conflict to all of this because Sonic can never have it easy in his universe especially when it comes to Scourge. His Super form being aware of Scourge and often refuses to change back. The saving grace is that he could share Scourge’s cowardly traits, so Sonic goes borderline feral whenever this happens and scares his super form off 90% of the time. the other 10% is having the freedom fighters gently coax him to transform back/Scourge gaining back complete control. Over time he also could be mischievous with Sonic only and playfully mess with him in ways Sonic very much does not like.

or another scenario is since he originally absorbed chaos energy from the Prime universe, and is coming in contact with the corrupted chaos energy here, this might cause changes in him. Either gaining new abilities and power/ causing physical & mental imbalances/ (Scourge why tf are you acting like your Super sometimes—) / shares a deeper connection to the master emerald here that might lead to something objectively good or worse in the long run

but no one knows yet if transforming the way Sonic used to would apply to the other universes. He should be cautious. (Realistically, if Scourge has the will to transform, he wouldn’t even bother gotta keep that bad boy reputation he’s got after all.)

ahhh that’s all otherwise I think I might go on forever! anyway I hope you touch on this subject sometime again in the future, it’s so fun to see how you write them out.

Oh god okay okay okay you have given me MUCH to think about and I love it so muchhhh because I love to think about lore especially the lore of the chaos emeralds in the fleetway universe even if I usually never end up coming to a conclusion. Normally I try to only put my fics under a read more, but this got long so I'm putting it under a cut

Okay so you're absolutely correct that the easy thing to do is to assume the influence of the chaos emeralds would have the same effect on him as it did on Sonic, and initially, that was my knee-jerk reaction. The corrupted energy of the emeralds fucks over both Sonic and Kintobor, after all, so it's logical to assume they would do the same to Scourge. Outside of these two, the only other people we see under the influence of chaos energy are Chaos (which happens pre-Kintobor's tampering) and Super (who is made of chaos energy, and only chills out when he is drained of/disconnected from/doesn't use the powers of his chaos energy and immediately goes back to murderous the second he either uses the power of his chaos energy or comes into contact with the chaos emeralds) so those are all we've got to go on, and they don't provide a good track record. We know that in small amounts some chaos energy isn't immediately harmful - I believe the Power Rings in stc have very small amounts of chaos energy in them, and touching one of them didn't instantly cause Sonic to turn super - but if there's a build up, or just larger amounts, it rarely means something good. Following the pattern of what we know about the chaos emeralds and chaos energy in general, it is a reasonable conclusion that they would have the same impact on Scourge

A good point is raised about King Sonic and his reaction to the chaos emeralds, which adds to the evidence that the chaos emeralds may not instantly make Scourge's super form evil and out of control, but we're only in that universe for a little bit, and we don't get to see how chaos energy works in that universe. We don't know if there were any differences in Kintobor's experiments, for example - was he still trying to rid the world of evil by storing it in the emeralds, and were his experiments successful in this dimension? Or did he take a different approach and use the power of the emeralds as purification, instead of containment? - so it's impossible to tell if the chaos emeralds in that mirror dimension even work the same as the chaos emeralds in the main dimension. Not knowing if there are differences in how they work makes it difficult to know if the chaos emeralds in the main dimension would have the same impact on Scourge as the mirror dimension. Arguments can be made for both

What does immediately stand out is your point that Scourge absorbed the power of the Master Emerald in the prime dimension. I'm not too familiar with the lore of the chaos emeralds in the archie canon, but it's pretty safe to say it's very different to the lore and history of the chaos emeralds in the fleetway comics (they aren't fucked, for one). So the immediate question is: how would the chaos energy of these two different dimensions interact? It's tempting to say chaos energy is chaos energy, and that fleetway's corrupted energy would corrupt the chaos energy from the prime zone, but the chaos energy in these two dimensions presumably has completely different origins, so they might not even be similar enough for corruption to happen. Different wavelengths or something, the same way anarchy energy in Moebius is presumably different to the chaos energy of both the prime zone and the fleetway dimension. And if there's no corruption, how would these two very different chaos energies interact, or do they even interact at all?

On top of that, Scourge didn't just absorb any chaos energy. He got zapped specifically with the energy of the Master Emerald. So it's not just any old chaos energy, it's energy that can control and neutralise the chaos emeralds and their chaos energy. Whether or not Scourge can use that energy he got blasted with, that's still something pretty overpowered to be running through his body

So if he was to be hit with chaos energy from Sonic's dimension, how these two different energies interact - again, if they interact at all - could have a big impact on what happens to Scourge. Are the energies similar enough that the energy from the Master Emerald can neutralise the energy of the chaos emeralds that come from a completely different dimension? And if this energy can be controlled by the Master Emerald's energy, that gives Scourge a much better chance of retaining control over himself. Kintobor and Sonic notably got blasted with energy that grew unstable because they only had six of the emeralds, crucially missing the one emerald that controls the others. And when Knuckles has the emeralds, he can control their energy, even corrupted as it is, just fine, enough to put a stop to Robotnik. If the Master Emerald's energy in Scourge can do something similar, there's a very, very good chance he's not even at risk the same way Sonic is. It could very well just act like an ordinary super form

Or maybe the chaos energies are too different, and the Master Emerald's energy has no impact on the chaos emeralds from Sonic's dimension. From there, that could either be the equivalent to a negative chemical reaction, or nothing happens and the chaos emeralds continue to impact Scourge as normal. I'm leaning more towards the latter, because we see Scourge wield anarchy beryl post-ME zapping, and anarchy energy and chaos energy are presumably different energies, and the energy of the ME doesn't seem to change anything about the way anarchy energy influences Scourge, but the former is definitely a possibility considering the additional corruption of the chaos emeralds. It would probably look similar to what you mentioned (possible new powers, physical and/or mental imbalance, deeper connection to the master emerald, and honestly so many more possibilities)

Another thing that comes to mind is how the the chaos emeralds' impact Captain Plunder, when they temporarily absorb the negative energy of him and his crew. It's the only time I can think of we see the chaos emeralds impact anyone in a vaguely positive way, and is, imo, actually pretty good evidence to the idea that they could impact Scourge the same way they impact King Sonic. Of course, the difference here is that the pirates didn't (to my understanding) actually get blasted with chaos energy; they were just around the emeralds long enough for their negative energy to be absorbed, and the emeralds were retrieved before they could become unstable and blast the pirates with chaos energy. So maybe actually using the emeralds wouldn't have this impact, but again: if the energy from the Master Emerald can control the chaos emeralds, then maybe a side effect of using them without losing control might be the emeralds absorbing Scourge's negative energy; it's pretty safe to assume he must have a lot of it as an Anti Sonic, after all. It might not make a difference, again, because of the differences of Scourge having a connection to the prime dimension, not Sonic's dimension, but honestly, I don't think it would be a stretch to assume they would have this impact. To my understanding, it's pretty vague if this "negative energy" that the emeralds absorb is negative chaos energy, or something else entirely. So, up to whatever u wanna go with

Interestingly, this also means that even if turning super doesn't make Scourge mellow out the same way it does to King Sonic, just being around the emeralds and using them might. So Scourge might not even need to use them for them to change him, which... well, Sonic already doesn't have good associations with the chaos emeralds, so seeing them so drastically change Scourge even when he's not using them wouldn't sit well with him. As you said, he really, really likes Scourge, and he especially likes that Scourge is an asshole. The asshole is who he fell in love with, and he wouldn't take kindly to that being changed

His instinct is, of course, that the chaos emeralds will have the same effect on Scourge as they do on him, which is why he's so desperate to keep Scourge away from chaos energy. He wouldn't want to take the risk, and once they grow close, he especially doesn't want to lose someone else he loves to chaos energy. He wouldn't be happy about Scourge becoming "not an asshole" under their influence, but he's infinitely more terrified of them doing to Scourge what they did to him. Of course, there's no guarantee how long that will last. Like you said, Scourge is bound to come into contact with chaos energy eventually. It's just a matter of how much of it he comes into contact with. Sonic just has to pray it's a small, non-harmful amount

The tldr is that exactly how the emeralds and chaos energy impacts Scourge depends entirely on how you the rules work, and as there is no canon explanation for how these rules differ and thus would interact, it's entirely up to whim on how it would play out, and I am indecisive and like the sound of both scenarios lmao whoops. I enjoy chewing on these thoughts, because I like thinking about what the rules could be, and the results of these different rules. I like having options on how I want to spin things. So for now I haven't committed to one idea on how the emeralds would impact Scourge. That may change in the future, but for now it's a solid "whichever set of rules I wanna play with at any given time"

Okay fdhsdj now that I'm done overthinking the lore, I'm following up on the rest of your ask, because I also really like and am intrigued by the scenario presented here. I love the idea that Scourge can transform at will, because the interesting thing about chaos energy in Sonic's dimension is that it kinda... sticks around. Super is slowly drained, but he's made from chaos energy, so the rules are a bit different for him. And although Sonic comes down from being hopped up on chaos energy, we can assume there's still some in there, because stress can cause him to transform even when he's nowhere near the chaos emeralds or power rings. It's reasonable to assume that if Scourge used the emeralds, or maybe if he also absorbed a lot of chaos energy, there's a good chance it would stick around in his body too (maybe getting zapped by the ME also makes it so chaos energy sticks to him easier, if you want further explanation?)

And if it sticks around in his body, I think you could probably make a pretty strong case for Scourge being able to transform at will. Because although Sonic doesn't transform at will, I don't think Sonic really wants to. Why would he? His super form is destructive and has a very high risk of hurting innocent people and the people Sonic cares deeply about. The super form is an involuntary last resort, and considering the consequences that come with it, of course we won't see Sonic try to do it at will

You know who we do see use the powers of chaos energy at will, though? Super. You could make the argument this is an ability unique to him because he's made of chaos energy, but I don't see why it couldn't be an something Scourge (and Sonic, if he wanted to) could do. Granted, when Super used his powers he fell right back under the influence of the chaos energy, but if we're working under the assumption Scourge doesn't deal with those negative effects when he uses the chaos emeralds, then that isn't a consequence he has to worry about. So I think it's pretty reasonable to assume he could transform at will, because if Super can use the powers of chaos energy at will, why can't Scourge?

(That being said the idea of Scourge forcibly transforming because he got too excited or riled up or even too happy is a hilarious mental image that will delight me for the rest of my days)

Scourge would, however, hate that his super form is so nice lmao. It's hilarious how much he'd hate it. He'd be less reluctant to do it than Sonic if only because he doesn't have to deal with the same burdens Sonic does, but you're so right that he wouldn't bother to transform because he has a Reputation, and his super form threatens that reputation. Sonic had to wake up from every transformation going "oh god who did I hurt" while Scourge wakes up from every transformation going "what do you MEAN I built an orphanage with my bare hands??? This is the worst day of my life" and this is made worse by the fact the freedom fighters would not let him forget about any good deeds done while transformed

I LOVE the concept of Super Scourge refusing to change back, especially as it has a lot of weight to it. King Super Sonic's immediate reaction is to want to stay like that, and Super refuses to use his powers out of fear of becoming evil again. So it makes sense that Super Scourge in this scenario would refuse to turn back; his normal self is a horrible person, selfish and rude, why would he want to become that awful person again? In stc this is framed a good thing, because both Super and King Sonic were evil, but for Scourge? Becoming a nice person is closer to horror for him, tbh. For his entire self, the identity he clings so hard to, to be stripped away and locked up forever. Rendering him the same as any other Sonic in the multiverse, with absolutely no way to stand out. The idea of that happening - worse, of choosing to do that to himself - is horrifying to him. For once, becoming a "better" person is not the good option. It's the terrifying one

I also really like the idea that he shares Scourge's cowardice, and that is what ultimately makes him bend to the demands to change back. Sure, eventually Scourge would turn back on his own - super transformations are temporary after all - but if Super Scourge really was that reluctant to transform back, he'd search for a way to make it permanent, just like King Super Sonic, or at least keep it up longer. All it would really take is an extra dose of chaos energy from the emeralds to keep up the transformation for a little longer. So it's really nice that there's another reason he ends up transforming back outside of it happening naturally, even if the other reason is Sonic scaring the shit out of him and probably threatening to kick his ass until he transforms back lol. Honestly, in a way it's really sweet that Sonic loves his asshole boyfriend so much that he throws a fit over said asshole boyfriend becoming a nicer person. He finds it genuinely unnerving when Scourge isn't an asshole, and he hates that Super Scourge wants to say super, like Scourge's bad attitude is a thing that should be fixed. He especially hates it because he knows how much Scourge hates being perceived as nice or good or a hero, so watching Super Scourge act like he's better off this way upsets him greatly because he knows how much it would upset Scourge if he was in his right mind

As for headcanons about possible dynamics, I think Super Scourge would drive Sonic up the wall, mostly because Scourge becoming nice would lead to him, like, cuddling close to Sonic and saying lots and lots of sappy and romantic shit, and worse, being genuine while he says it. Sonic is flustered. Sonic hates it. That's not his boyfriend who says one thing and does another and only says nice things if it's wrapped in three layers of sarcasm and irony. He is pushing Super Scourge away and yelling at him to change back and stop trying to kiss him, stop being nice to him that's not how this works all while Super Scourge talks about how much he loves and appreciates Sonic. A kind of:

"You're beautiful" "HE'S LOST HIS MIND!!!! >:("

kinda dynamic.

(In the background, the freedom fighters are filming this interaction, and they will force Scourge to watch it once he's back to normal. Scourge will also hate this and is three seconds away from burying someone alive. He and Sonic silently agree to never talk about the incident, while the freedom fighters are committed to never letting them forget it)

#sonic the hedgehog #scourge the hedgehog #fleetway sonic #stc sonic #fleet!sonourge #asks #headcanon #u did it u unlocked the Yapping caused by giving me an opportunity to overthink about lore and then come to 0 conclusions #do NOT apologise for throwing this on me fhsjadhfj i loved replying to this ask #i am only sorry that the reply is. uh. Long.#i'm so glad you enjoy seeing how i write them out!!!#it's always such a relief to hear people like hearing my opinions and what i have to say #if you want to continue to 'go on forever' pleaseeee feel free to do so #i love hearing other people's thoughts and headcanons on this stuff

12 notes · View notes

aylacavebear · 2 months ago

Text

Touched Introduction: An Author's Note

Here's an introduction to what a Touched is. It'll help you get your feet wet and have an idea of the creature 'Touched.' I hope you'll enjoy coming along on the adventures that will soon be shared here.

Word Count: 579

Please don't take my work. I've put a lot of thought and work into this idea, and it truly is all mine. It took lots of research to make sure things were and are accurate. Your comments, hearts, and reblogs mean the world to me.

There are no warnings for this, as it is only some information for future stories.

----------------------------------------- Touched Introduction: An Author's Note

Touched are something of an enigma. It will, of course, depend on the story with how they are viewed by not only other supernatural creatures, but also hunters, and humans. Gods from any pantheon get bored from time to time, and they need something for entertainment. Sadly, that typically means messing with humans, as they are the most fun to mess with, since the Christian God gave them free will.

I personally like Bastet. She’s from the Egyptian pantheon and is the Goddess of protection, protecting homes from evil and women and children from disease and illness. She was originally a fierce lioness warrior goddess of the sun. However, her ferocious nature may have been softened after the domestication of cats around 1500 BCE. She also had both nurturing and violent qualities, but her shielding and motherly aspects are often emphasized.

Bastet loved humans but knew she couldn’t directly interfere with their growth as a species. She could, however, choose certain humans and give them her gifts through a touch. The gifts the human received depended on the human and how Bastet’s powers interacted with their DNA. The human had to be younger than the age of five, or things always turned out badly, so she’d gotten very careful over the years.

There were two special humans, both of which had been women. One over a thousand years ago, and now this new woman, born to a family and would be an only child. These humans somehow got the ability to have healing blood, a way to keep their loved ones safe in a way no other Touched was able.

The abilities of her Touched ranged just as much as their personalities did. Everything from being able to transform into a cat that could talk or telepathically communicate to being cat-like but still looking completely human. Some could even communicate with other felines. It intrigued Bastet how each human she chose progressed throughout its life. It was the ones who had actual cat features, like ears, a tail, canines, and retractable claws, that fascinated her the most, watching how they dealt with what other humans saw as not normal.

Sometimes, just sometimes, Bastet would meddle in the affairs of other deities or supernatural creatures. Like the time, in one story, where she gave her gifts to the Christian God’s biological daughter. Or, in another story where she gave it to a Nephilim. Okay, perhaps that happened more than just once, but it was well worth the outcome.

Sadly, Bastet could never interact with her Touched. It was like a curse. Once the gift was given, the Deity was forced to watch from afar, unable to guide them directly. Bastet sometimes left clues with the child’s parents so they could guide the child, but sometimes, things turned badly for the child.

These are the stories of Bastet’s Touched. There will be series and one-shots, perhaps even two-parters. No two will be related, but now you have some information when you get to embark on the journey as the Touched and learning to navigate the world in so many different scenarios. I hope you enjoy the fun little things that have played through my mind over the last almost two years when this creature creation came to me. I did need something that would survive the perils that consistently tend to befall anyone who gets too close to the Winchesters, no matter what universe they end up in or come from.

----------------------------------------- Touched Master List Main Master List

Permanent Tag List: @roseblue373 @flamencodiva @reignsboy19 @stillhere197 @foxyjwls007

@hobby27 @megs-gadom

8 notes · View notes

never-be-tamed · 6 months ago

Note

I find myself often reflecting on the incredible journey we've shared, and I am filled with immense gratitude and love for you. There are not enough words to express how much you mean to me, but I hope this message captures even a fraction of my appreciation for you. From the very beginning, you have been my anchor, my rock, and my constant source of strength. Your unwavering support and belief in me have given me the courage to face even the darkest of days. You see the best in me, even when I struggle to see it in myself, and for that, I am eternally grateful. Your humor lights up my life. I love how you can make me laugh even in the most serious moments. Your jokes, your playful teasing, and even the way you pout when things don't go your way – all of these make my heart swell with joy. You bring so much happiness into my world, and I cherish every laugh we share. I am also deeply touched by your kindness and compassion. You have a way of making everyone around you feel valued and loved. Your generosity knows no bounds, and I am constantly in awe of your ability to give so selflessly. You inspire me to be a better person, and I am proud to stand by your side. Even more, I am moved by your strength and resilience. Life has thrown many challenges our way, yet you face each one with grace and determination. Your courage in the face of adversity is nothing short of extraordinary, and it reminds me that together, we can overcome anything. But perhaps what I love most about you is your heart. You love so deeply and fully, and it is an honor to be the recipient of that love. You make me feel cherished and adored, and I want you to know that I feel the same way about you. Your love has transformed my life in ways I never thought possible, and I am forever grateful for the bond we share. Alex, you are my best friend, my confidant, and my everyrhing. I am so proud of the man you are and the man you continue to become. I am incredibly lucky to have you in my life, and I promise to always stand by your side, just as you have stood by mine. Thank you for being you, and for loving me so completely. I look forward to all the memories we have yet to make and the adventures that await us. You are my everything, and I love you more than words can say.

I— PLEASE send some love and appreciation to this wonderful woman, she deserves the whole load, the whole package of affection and kindness I MEAN SHE IS JUST WOW, SEE i am speechless again. 🤯

You are such a wonderful soul, I JUST WISH THAT YOU COULD SEE HOW WONDERFUL YOU TRULY ARE, I adore everything you are, shadow and light, good and bad, every aspect of you inspires me to be the man that you deserve and I'm trying my very best to be that man for you. And I love love love our honest and pure communication about anything and everything. I am so happy to have you with me, I wouldn't trade our bond for anything in this world. You showed me that it's okay to not always be that strong, that I don't always need to make sense, that it's okay to have days where I don't feel my best, to let the mask fall that I was wearing for so long, that it's okay to make mistakes that I can grow from in the end. You show me so much. And I love love love our journey so far and I'm sure I will love everything there is to come. Everything we went through, lead us to each other. And I would do it all again, in a heartbeat, all that struggle, heartbreak and shit just so I can be with you and near you in the end. I love you so much Babes. Thank you for being you, for being by my side through thick and thin, THANKS TO YOUR PARENTS FOR BRINGING SUCH A GREAT SOUL INTO THIS WORLD, INTO MY WORLD, I LOVE YOU ENDLESSLY, WHOLEHEARTEDLY AND TRULY.

And... since you love it so much and it makes you laugh (🙄) :

#I LOVE HER SO MUCH #:-(#HOW CAN SHE BE SO ... WOW #playing hide and seek and fought with sticks and stones — elena.

11 notes · View notes

jeanmoreaux · 5 months ago

Note

trigger warning (?): passively suicidal idiot (me)

hey the recent posts on aftg has fried my brain like literally. how far can we keep trying before (i) should accept im just nothing. and not just aftg but all your lovely posts about trying again and how to continue living even after bad things

i'm sorry this is so dark. fiction and stories (esp aftg and captive prince in my 20s) have quite honestly saved my life more times than i can count

but recently i've just lost the ability to read and retain good chunks of memory and i'm not motivated or disciplined even though i hate where i am in life (i need to graduate but i haven't even done my thesis because idk how to explain my reading slump the articles just gloss over and i end up crying cz why is this so difficult)

i just...these days i really try to not look too close at things that can quite easily, relieve me of this life

i am so sorry you’re feeling like this :( and pls don’t apologize for sharing this!! it’s so important to talk about these things and share these thoughts, given them room and space and acknowledging this feeling is a reality. i also want to thank you for sharing this with me. i am glad you feel like this blog is a safe space for it. i really truly wish there was more i could to help, especially with the academic stuff. sometimes you just need someone to help yoi get your things in order. because i get it, motivation and discipline are so hard. thesis writing is so hard. reading articles and parsing them for relevant info and using that relevant info for your own texts is HARD. so it’s okay to ask for help if you need it. i had to ask for help too when i wrote mine. because it is an exhausting process that can suck so much of your mental energy.

also the part about fiction being a lifesaving refuge…. yeah. a story that speaks to you can be like a soothing balm. especially when your going through a lot. i really understand why both the series you mentioned are a little bit like life rafts. i only recently reread cp and it hasn’t left my mind since, maybe also because there are some aftg parallels (in a veryyyy broad sense). both stories do include a lot of difficult topics and violence and hurt and pain but that’s ultimately not what brings change or transformation in either stories. it’s the love that develops and that’s the reason. not just the love between characters, but the love characters have for themselve. their determination to get better and have a life after trauma/hardship; their willingness to strive for happiness or contentment. the overall idea of things were shit but things got better. that just sparks hope.

i really hope things will fall into place for you, and that you’ll find it in yourself to keep going <3 i am so proud of you

#sorry this took so long to answer life has been a little hard and exhausting atm #answer #anon #i hope you’re doing okay. i am sending you all my love <333

0 notes

thedaveandkimmershow · 2 years ago

Photo

You know it starts (at least for me it did) with buying little valentine’s cards from the grocery store and then, on the appointed day, bringing them to class and placing one in each classmate’s valentine’s bag hanging from the front of their desks.

Something like that.

That’s just my earliest memory of anything Valentine’s Day.

Over the years, of course, my idea of it changed. It took on quite romantic overtones which was nice. Which is nice.

And then one day I set sail with my valentine.

If you put a gun to my head, I’d probably say it probably helps for both of you to have a similar sense of adventure. But being who we are, of course you’d expect we’d both say something like that.

Because this is an adventure. Literally for better and worse.

It’s probably just as true, however, that two people who see life as a perfectly predictable, drawn-completely-inside-the-lines kind of affair... would blossom in their togetherness.

Although honestly. I can’t imagine it.

To each their own, I suppose.

"For one human being to love another human being: that is perhaps the most difficult task that has been entrusted to us, the ultimate task, the final test and proof, the work for which all other work is merely preparation."

Rainer Maria Rilke, again. Dude had quite the view on relationships back in 1914.

Back to valentines, though. Because as I said, you start with little paper hearts and candies. Those little paper hearts and candies take flight, though, on the wings of our imaginations, our hopes. And then they’re transformed, when we’re so fortunate, by the binding of our lives together. A literal fusion that goes well beyond the paper hearts and those candies in all shades of pink and red. An experience that far exceeds our imaginations, our hopes and dreams that are not yet informed by life.

I’ve talked about this before how the skill sets required for dating then adulting then long-term relationshipping are quite overwhelming. There’s a lot of complexity and being intimidated that’s involved in creating a shared life from nothing but a valentine. From a romantic love.

Here’s how I’ve thought of it:

So the two of you are guitar players. You’re an amazing musician. She’s an amazing musician. And the music you make together is beautiful.

Then one day you decide to start a guitar company together.

My point being that the second thing doesn’t necessarily follow from the first thing given that the second thing, running a company, relies on a completely different skill set.

And so it is with getting married. All of which I say just so I can say this:

I don’t know about Kimmer... but I got lucky. Because the life we share, the love we have, the adventure we continue to enjoy regardless of the plot twists dropped onto us from 10,000 feet...

What we have doesn’t follow from dating and roses and paper hearts. Not this life we have.

It comes from more than our deepest hopes and, when I think about it now...

Okay.

You ever watch that movie “Dan In Real Life”? That part where his oldest daughter’s boyfriend says

“Love is not a feeling, Mr. Burns. It's an ability.”

Remember how ridiculous that sounded coming from a kid?

Well, he wasn’t wrong. The screenwriters weren’t. Wrong.

It’s all the things we know love to be.

Plus.

It’s an abiltiy.

Ability?

Yeah. Because we don’t remain those children running around the classroom with paper hearts. Or teenagers desperately hoping that what they feel... is a shared feeling. Or even young adults on the cusp of a much larger world. No.

Our lives eventually take flight. For better and worse. For richer and poorer. For good times and times that suck. We embrace all of it.

And love?

How does love fit into all of that?

Ahhhhhh, you see...

That’s.

The abiltiy.

😊

0 notes

thedeviljudges · 3 years ago

Text

the devil judge + the seven deadly sins

so, i made a gifset about who i thought falls under the seven deadly sins. and also shameless plug - please go reblog the gifset i made for this. took me ages to do.

but i figured i might as well make a meta post to correlate. so this is that post. it’s not everything i could discuss. i could be here for hours more, truth be told. but i hope it’s enough to chew on.

while i feel like a lot of these are going to be a no-brainer, i still want to talk it through because idk. i can, and i want to, and i feel like it, lmao.

gluttony

the elite are privileged and have an opportunity to indulge so much more than the general public, but in many different ways. this is shown throughout the show in the fact that they can indulge on luxury food, have political power, they can make a phone call or snap their fingers and everyone must follow their orders.

and the thing about gluttony is that there is always more to be had. you take a little and then realize it’s not enough and so you ask for more. case in point: in episode 11 when sunah suggests that yohan could be the new president, the current one gives her an alternative: dictatorship. because it wasn’t just enough for him to be an actor and the presiding president.

you’ll also know they turn in on themselves - the two other guys in the elite group. one who owns the company and the other dude - i really cannot remember their names and what they do, but y’all know who i’m talking about. it was so easy for them, when threatened, to fabricate documents to give to yohan about each other in order to get ahead. gluttony is only shared in the relationships we have until one realizes they can take a little extra of the pie. it’s the selfishness of having all the leftovers. gluttony cannot necessarily exist without someone else’s sacrifice.

lust

i kind of had an ah-ah moment when i was talking this over with @technitango. i was trying to decide who was going to be lust because lust is portrayed very, very differently in this show than what most of us are used to. we, of course, know sunah who lusts after a life of indulgence and riches because she equates that with respect more than actually wanting it because it’s monetarily worth something.

but then i realized the public is lust because of their need for justice. i won’t say revenge necessarily because they’re doing as they’re told when given the judge show. but we can quickly see how that evaporates into something akin to bloodlust, for criminals and people who normally get away with shit, to have their fair taste at conviction for their misdeeds. we even see it with yohan’s fanboy club - the lust that comes from adoration and dedication.

and even more so, the public is easily swayed and so is the nature of lust. it follows in the vein of needs and wants, and as soon as new information is presented, however may false, so does the wants and desires of what people want sway. how easy was it for them to turn on yohan for a split second on two occasions - on two accounts of bribery.

envy

envy, above all, is about wanting what others have because you do not have it yourself. it may not be exactly what they have, but a form of it. some people don’t necessarily want money - they want what it can by, which is time, health and material goods.

sunah is the perfect example of this. she envies respect and recognition. she talks about bright and shiny objects, and that’s true to her kleptomania tendences, but more than anything, she wants to be seen as an equal because being poor with a vastly different upbringing means she’s looked down upon by those she thinks matters.

which also begs the question why she feels the need to seek validation from people in higher statuses to begin with when she can be the exception and not the rule - form her own understanding and environment to show others that the typical way of the elite is not actually all it’s cracked up to be - to which we see when she has no one to celebrate her victory with. it’s lonely being at the top. you get to your goal you thought you wanted but then what?

more importantly, sunah also envies family, relationships and simply put, human interaction. she wants to be cared for and treasured, and she looks for that in her position of power. because then all eyes are on you. because then that’s what people care about. what she fails to see is that those eyes are just as fruitless and just as wavering. to be a leader means people loving the idea of you but not you as a person.

“people of envious nature are sometimes stimulated to seek to emulate those who have completed some great achievements and in doing so achieve something great for themselves,” according to Understanding Philosophy.

wrath

while i realize that gaon not might entirely fit the wrath trope, he certainly has his moments, and i think he’s lived with a tampered flame since his parent’s death. he just learned to briefly put it out in the form of distractions and a false sense of righteousness and justice. it isn’t until he meets yohan that someone finally gives him the okay to feel the entirety of his emotions, that lets him breath and tells him it’s okay to feel anger and hurt. and while gaon ultimately chooses not to exact revenge, his wrath is what led him to becoming a judge and walking away from his teenage crimality.

gaon transposed his wrath into seeking justice, transformed it into livelihood, and reformed his narrative so that he was no longer angry and a teen with rash emotions. it was simply redirected and never really forgotten. yohan turned that redirection back around onto gaon’s ultimate heartache. fueled with that, it became easier to justify himself and his actions.

the most pivotal moment of turning his back on this mindset is, of course, the minister’s suicide, where he takes a good look at himself and doesn’t like what he sees. at this point, gaon’s upset isn’t necessarily at yohan but at the situation in which they got themselves into. because the thing is, gaon doesn’t absolve himself from what they did. he doesn’t turn a blind eye to that and try to dismiss it. he owns up to what happened and confesses how he feels to yohan and how he has to leave for his own good, and in some indirect way, for yohan’s, too.

with yohan, his ultimately weakness, despite never admitting to it, is family. his wrath comes in the form of anger when the ones he loves are threatened. yohan lives by a moral code of loyalty because that means you won’t be abandoned, and as a child who lived with that verdict since the day he was born, it’s an ever-pressing theme of his.

thing is, wrath comes in two particular forms for yohan. again, one is family and the second is the rose-colored glasses he’s given himself in his revenge story. he’s always had a goal to presumably make right the wrong for taking away isaac, but within that, 10 years is a long time to plot revenge, to the point where it becomes so much easier to lose yourself to that, to become enraged with it and forget the initial goal all along. we see this in his inability to form the bonding moments needed with his niece and his casual throwaway comments over people’s lives - the comment he made to gaon about moving on to the next plan, and the ultimately nail in the coffin of pushing gaon to leaving him.

his fury has also led him to convince himself his own humanity is nothing short of a lie. therefore, it’s easier to justify the means to an end because of his own self-worth and self-deprecation. it’s almost like a self-fulfilling prophecy: he even admitted to gaon’s mentor that he is an abyss. he’s referred to himself as nothing but an animal or a monster - all characteristics of despondency to survive and to justify what he’s doing. sort of like a catch 22, yohan claims he’s an animal/monster and behaves as such, but because he behaves as such, it means he’s an animal/monster.

wrath for gaon and yohan are very different yet the same. they are slow-burning, and that’s a dangerous type. it’s actually interesting when you think about the fire imagery surrounding the two of them because flames are quick to lap at anything in its wake, to destroy within a matter of minutes. and yet for the two of these men, their internal fire eats them from the inside out, painfully, until they’re almost unrecognizable to others and to themselves.

sloth

sloth was a little more difficult to pinpoint because of its characteristics. it was either the minister versus the mentor, both of which i think could work in this role. however, i chose the minister simply because she’s featured more and intertwines heavily with the plot line.

soth is a medieval translation of the Latin term acedia, meaning “without care.”

the ultimate characteristic of sloth is often identified as laziness, and while it’s easy to argue that the minister hasn’t been lazy in her ability to get where she is, she became as much when she started lying to get to her position. isn’t lying known as the easier way out? it absolves you of responsibility, of putting in the hard work, of apologizing and making things right. in the end, she had a goal and found the easiest solution to get there through her lack of responsibility for the roles she more than likely swore an oath to.

but that also translates into the other attributes of sloth: a failure to do the right thing, lack of emotions for people or of the self, and the fact that it “hinders man in his righteous undertakings and thus becomes a terrible source of man’s undoing” according to The Seven Deadly Sins: Society and Evil.

while i think there are a lot of components of sloth that may not necessarily fit the minister, the apathy and carelessness are enough to showcase her aggression, despondency and restlessness when what little efforts she does put in do not go her way. another interesting thing to note is that many of sloth’s traits correspond with symptoms of mental illness, such as depression and anxiety. it’s an interesting thing to note given the way the minister chooses to end her life.

greed

i don’t know that jinjoo would’ve had any provocation to the limelight if it wasn’t for sunah’s direction, but she’s eager to please and wants to be useful. it’s only natural for her to want more because it’s clear she’s a career woman, loves her job and has a heart for serving the people.

but like gluttony, greed is also that little thing that plants itself and can take on a life of its own. you start looking for justifications as to why you can’t have more than what you do, and in jinjoo’s situation, she’s already overlooked through no fault of her own. and it’s not that gaon and yohan are doing it purposefully, which is what makes their neglect heartbreaking, because truthfully, they’re after the same thing jinoo is. sure, it looks different and the foundation of it is different, same with their motives. but they’re all three judges on a residing bench working to exact justice - even if all three of them have their own personal agenda.

i don’t think jinoo fully aligns with greed, but she does want more for herself, and i think that’s only natural. you can tell she has a heart, and she’s keen not to be overlooked. this isn’t her pain point so much as it is she knows her worth and is more than ready to do what it takes to get where she wants. this, in and of itself, isn’t necessarily a bad trait, but we can see how it leads to being deceived, especially for someone who’s been left in the dark for so long.

she is enticed by the glitz and the glamour of being a head judge, but you can tell she feels some remorse and guilt for those thoughts at times. i think her sense of greed is a battle within herself more than it is extremely outwardly.

pride

soohyun’s pride comes in the form of her imbalance with right and wrong. her sense of righteousness and justice is so far leaning, even more than gaon’s. it can be chalked up to her being a cop, but we’ve seen instances of this outside of her role within that agency. her pride doesn’t let her see beyond saving gaon and getting to the bottom of every mystery that comes her way.

it also comes in the form of impulsiveness and her savior complex, putting elijah in danger, for example, instead of waiting for backup. it’s not necessarily from a belief that she can fix things all on her own, but she sees injustice and immediately jumps in. another case in point is her and gaon watching yohan wreck the minister’s son’s car. she’s ready to go stop him, but gaon pulls her back, most likely because at that point, they hadn’t been observing the situation for very long to get a read on it. also the fact that at that point, neither of them truly knew yohan and his capabilities.

but as to where her characteristics come from, we simply don’t know beyond that of gaon. it’s unfortunate because we don’t have much of her backstory, so there is no real understanding why she so firmly believes in entities of regulation beyond keeping her friend out of jail. she prides herself on her work and what she’s able to accomplish, which is why it’s devastating to her to have to protect gaon by cleaning up his bloody handprint.

aristotle is of the belief that, “pride, then, seems to be a sort of crown of the virtues; for it makes them greater, and it is not found without them. Therefore it is hard to be truly proud; for it is impossible without nobility and goodness of character,” from Nicomachean Ethics.

but pride for soohyun isn’t about honors or rewards. it’s for herself and her capabilities, her ability to protect gaon, and the virtues she’s set as the precedent for herself. because sometimes it’s not even about establishing morals and ethics upon yourself. it’s about feelings/intuition, logic and observation. and no, i don’t mean the feelings she has for gaon. there are things that humans do, both actions and words, that we inherently know are bad without someone telling us as much and without the rules of the world seared into our brains. there are some things we know, for a fact, are wrong to us as individuals.

for soohyun, she knows that gaon’s actions, and even her own, have consequences. from what we’ve seen, i think it can be argued that it’s really about not doing those actions to prevent an outcome - not necessarily from a place of being just and right. that doesn’t mean she doesn’t understand good morals/ethics, but again, we have no background of what her internal guidance actually is.

to put this in layman’s terms, we’ll use gaon wanting to stab the conman in his youth. soohyun knows it’s wrong because it will incriminate gaon and therefore she stops it. gaon’s gone to her because he sees her as a moral compass. but is her own internal navigation rooted in justice the way gaon had to find it in the judicial system, or is hers rooted in her pride of keeping gaon safe? she stops him from doing things that will get him in trouble, but is she stopping him because the action itself is wrong or because the outcome will result in undesirable consequences for the two of them?

and of course, there is a flipped argument to be had there - i’m not arguing that gaon stabbing the conman would be right or justified. but what i am saying is that for her, her worldview is the only right one, and when anyone steps out of that, even gaon, it becomes a bit of an issue: the pride she has for that is palpable.

every character indulges

truthfully, every character has at least one form of these sins rooted in their characterization. some are larger than others, but the breadth of it can be explored even further for each. and that’s what makes them more realistic and not just characters written on a page or following a linear progression of their writing deity.

the seven deadly sins are also notoriously rooted in religion. they’re also a defining feature of aristotle’s works that represent the golden mean, in which each vice is parallel to a virtue.

the devil judge is so layered, but i think at the heart of it, it’s about humanity at its core. sprinked in are the philosophies and contradictions and what it means to look in the mirror, what happens when we’re blind to seeing our true selves and most importantly, how much changes when we’re swayed by our own misgivings. it really asks us to understand nature versus nurture, that people must find a belief in something to keep them going, and how futile our hopes and desires can actually be if we’re not carefully regulating ourselves, nevermind the entities established by society to regulate us, too.

the entirety of the show genuinely begs the question as to who is truly right, who is truly wrong, and if it’s even possible to find the correct answer.

#x #the devil judge #the devil judge meta #*#*the devil judge #so i have some Thoughts #probably not very good ones but ya know

53 notes · View notes

thedistantdusk · 3 years ago

Text

Arcadia, Chapter 3

Thanks to everyone who followed along! Things are heating up with this chapter! Most of the referenced triggers from chapter 1 apply in this chapter specifically. Here's the link to chapter 2, if you're just seeing this now :)

Thanks again to @secretkeeper13, @accio-broom, @remedialpotions, @jamezbot, @jenoramaca, @not-steve42, @ginisbetterthanfirewhiskey... god, I'm forgetting people, and I'm sorry! But you're all amazing <3

___________________________

D A Y + T H R E E

As fate would have it, Ginny wakes before 0-700.

Not that she sleeps.

Nightmares, the likes of which she hasn’t experienced in years, torment her throughout the night. They leave her scared. Miserable. Guilty. Around 3 AM, she finally reaches for her Dreamless Sleep potion with shaking hands. For more reasons than one, she’s pleased that Harry’s slept on the couch.

She knows now just how stupid this entire mission truly was. The longer she analyzes it, the more she accepts that her bloody pride got her here in the first place. A chance for a promotion, however small, gave her false confidence in her ability to disregard a decade of sexual tension, all while trapped in close quarters with the person she wants the most.

She hopes Harry makes himself sparse today, though she knows that sounds cruel. But the longer they spend together, the clearer it becomes they’re on the cusp of something… and not something that would look good on a performance review. He’s been kind and understanding so far, even when she’s fucked things up. She just hopes she can ignore the most human parts of herself until they’ve dealt with this.

So at half-past 8, Ginny — Jenny — emerges from the house in a bright floral sundress and nude pumps. Were it not for the secret weapon clutched in her right fist, she might have fit in quite well... but Jenny has no intention of fitting in. Not anymore. In three confident strides, she marches across the front lawn, bends down, and spears the prongs of a lurid pink flamingo into the grass.

Yes.

She grins and takes in her work. How ghastly against the backdrop of earth tones! How repugnant!

Ginny steals quick glimpses over each shoulder, only to be met with the eerie, blanketed silence that’s defined Arcadia since their arrival. No activity at all. Which means she’ll have no issue with the next bit…

She strides to the mailbox at the end of their driveway and gives it a sharp kick. The post slides out of alignment, leaving it askew. Perfect. She returns to the house with a bounce in her step. Living with the twins taught her a thing or two about how to infuriate complete strangers.

She just hopes it’ll be enough.

___________________________

As luck would have it, it is enough. Her efforts receive reward more quickly than she thought— more quickly than she’s been conditioned to expect.

Scarcely an hour passes before she finds the warning she needs. And to be honest, it could’ve been there sooner; she just figured she’d give it that long before she checked.

Still, it’s not even 10 AM when she opens the door and sees it on their welcome mat: a folded paper with Pee-tri scrolled on the front. She can’t help but admire the sheer cheek as she unfolds it; this is the closest they’ll get to a public call-out for the way Harry insists on correcting everyone’s pronunciation. The message inside doesn’t surprise her, either.

Be like the others before dark. Or else.

Ginny glimpses out at the lawn, just to confirm— and yes. Sure enough. Just as she’d suspected, the flamingo's gone. The mailbox is straight. Everything’s back to normal.

She kicks the door closed with a smirk and wonders if they’re aware of how easily they’ve exposed themselves. How—

“What’ve you got there?” Harry calls from the sofa in the living room. He looks up from his laptop with bleary, dark-rimmed eyes. A wave of guilt washes through her; that sofa clearly didn’t get more comfortable overnight. Not that he would’ve accepted the alternative.

“Erm. A letter.” She waves in front of her and walks into the living room. “I’ve done a great job annoying them!”

He offers a gentle smile. “Any chance you’ll let me know who this ‘them’ is that you’re so worried about?”

Ginny rolls her eyes and settles on the other end of the couch. “You know I can’t—”

“Talk about your work,” Harry finishes, turning back to his computer. “Right.”

“Mm. Not exactly that I can’t… talk about my work,” she ventures, putting her feet up on the white ottoman. “More like I can’t give information until it’s essential knowledge for all parties involved. Based on criteria that I also can’t share.”

“Sounds like a fun job,” Harry deadpans, still looking at the computer. “But anyway, if I were to suggest something like… I don’t know…” He casually tilts the screen in her direction. “The fact that Oliver Skinner definitely has a criminal record, and maybe that’s worth looking into. You couldn’t confirm or deny that?”

Ginny just shrugs. “That’s correct. I can neither confirm nor deny.”

His theory is wrong, of course. Dead wrong.

They wouldn’t have sent an Unspeakable and an Auror into the country if this were a simple Muggle murderer. Harry would be able to suss this out, she reckons, if he had more sleep. Poor bloke.

He groans and cracks his back. “I’m starting to understand why King’s always so frustrated.”

“Probably because he has to deal with you all the time,” Ginny quips, reaching for a magazine on the floor. Ugh. Of course, it’s only the TV guide, Radio Times. They don’t even have a TV, but it came with the Daily Mail on Sunday.

Harry reaches for a glass of water on the coffee table. “Fine,” he relents, in between sips. “I’ll stay in my lane. But if I get bored, I’ll get tetchy.” He gestures to the computer. “And since they’ve given us this laptop, I’ve had time to do a bit of—”

“They’ve given me a laptop,” Ginny corrects, arching a brow. “As you’re well aware, Auror Potter, that is technically the property of the DoM.” She returns to the guide with a shrug. “I just don’t care if you use it, mostly because I don’t expect you’ll be looking up tits all day.”

He chokes on his water; Ginny just laughs and turns the page. Ooh, lovely! Eurovision looks particularly flamboyant this year…

“You’re absolutely right,” Harry says, once he recovers. “I’d never look up tits on government property!” He looks affronted as he hands over the laptop, but she knows he’s not done... not when he’s set that up so perfectly. Annnnd sure enough…

“You of all people should know I'm an arse-man, Ginny.”

Now it’s her turn for an unattractive snort as he winks over his shoulder and marches upstairs.

When he’s gone, Ginny rolls her eyes and opens her laptop. He’s an incredible liar on the arse-man front, but it was a good joke. A simple joke…. one that didn’t deserve looking into.

It’s just unfortunate that can’t stop these stupid fucking butterflies from erupting in her stomach like she’s ten years old again.

___________________________

He launches into the air again, the gardens of his neighbors spanning out in front of him. Each perfectly manicured. Each disturbing in its performative precision. None of this is real; none of this is life.

He pulled out the trampoline after dinner, when Ginny okayed it. He’s not used to that— checking before he does things. This whole exercise has been a great reminder that his teamwork skills are rusty, especially when he’s in a subordinate role. Ron left after their first year to work in the magic shop instead, which only made sense after… yeah. Harry draws a deep breath and jumps again. Ron and Hermione haven’t been problem-solving in his head for ages. There’s been no one to share the burden of choices or—

“OI!” Oliver’s voice thunders across the garden.

Harry smiles and takes another huge leap into the air. Just in time…

He rips open the fence door and stomps over, hands balled into fists. Harry’s never seen anyone look quite so furious while dressed in cashmere. And standing beside a trampoline.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Oliver hisses, eyes narrowed to slits. “Are you trying to make enemies, Henry? Is this entire estate a bloody joke to you?”

“Of course not!” Harry lands on his bum before he jumps up again. “This is very serious!”

“Oliver!” Sharon wails, hurrying over. “Oliver. Please! This really—”

“Keep your nose where it belongs, woman,” Oliver snarls, looking at her like she’s scum on his shoe. “No one wants your opinion!”

Sharon flinches… and this, more than anything else, gets Harry’s back up. “No need to take it out on her!” he snaps, climbing down from the trampoline. “Talk to me if you’ve got a problem, Ollie. Why not—”

But just as Harry’s feet touch the grass, something very weird happens: A dull buzzing fills his ears. Sharon and Oliver hear it too, but unlike Harry, they aren’t looking around in bewildered confusion. In a flash, the rage on Oliver’s face transforms into something much different: fear. And as the pressure grows, Harry can only watch as Oliver grabs Sharon’s hand, yanking her from the garden, when—

An unmistakable sound replaces the buzzing. A large piece of glass from somewhere in the front of the house shatters on the pavement. And with that, the buzzing stops.

Birds chirp again. Someone laughs in the distance. Harry jabs a finger in his ear, trying to clear it, but it seems Oliver’s returned to his furious state. He lunges towards Harry, a vein ticking in his neck, his hands outstretched as if to push him over— but Harry doesn’t have time for this. He’s already running around him, bolting towards the source of the sound, his hand inching for his pocket…

Because whatever they’ve got going on isn’t related to Oliver, is it? No… definitely not. That buzzing was too creepy to be muggle. Harry hadn’t really been convinced of the Oliver theory in the first place, even if the wanker has a criminal record for drunk driving. He mostly suggested it to Ginny to see if she’d give him any information.

Harry spots the broken glass the second he reaches the pavement. The lamppost right outside their house has shattered, light bulb and all. Bits of glass sparkle on the street, but the lamppost is at least 10 feet high. Harry scans around for signs of a ladder, or some form of a projectile… any method someone might’ve used to— oh! A baseball rolls around in one of the open garages across the street. He’s about to march over and collect it when his conscience stops him.

Because that’s the definition of circumstantial evidence, isn’t it? Harry sighs, rubbing his forehead. Snatching the baseball while working alone is one thing, but it’s not worth risking Ginny’s job. Especially because he reckons these thoroughly unmemorable homes are each equipped with monitoring systems. At absolute best, that would be… awkward to explain to the muggle police, especially without an obvious connection between the ball and the shattered lamppost...

Harry’s just about to turn back inside and write it off a freak occurrence when—

Shit.

His breath freezes in his throat.

What the...

He blinks a few times to make sure he’s not imagining it, but no...

There’s no weird buzzing this time… but something else is happening instead. The grass on the far side of their yard is bulging and curling, right in front of his eyes. The soil creaks as this… this mass — a huge sphere of some sort — passes through; bits of dirt fly into the air before settling back.

Harry’s veins turn to ice, his stomach churning. Work has introduced him to new, vile varieties of ghouls and nasties. He’s been bitten by a leprechaun. Stalked by a vampire. He’s encountered every disturbing otherworldly menace that one could imagine.

But he’s never seen anything like this.

His only solace is that it’s headed towards Mike’s empty house… this massive, rolling boulder that travels beneath the soil. ‘Boulder’ isn’t exactly the right term, though; he’s never seen a boulder move with a slinking, predatory grace. He’s never gotten gooseflesh from a rock, no matter how large.

And try as he might, he can only stand there, wide-eyed, his heart racing. Because now he knows for sure what Ginny only alluded to before: whatever they’re chasing isn’t human.

And it’s aware of them.

___________________________

The door creaks open less than five minutes after the glass shatters, but Ginny’s prepared.

She’s standing in the alcove just off the entryway, wand in one hand, fire poker in the other. It’s probably not the best strategy she’s ever had— but she reckons that if a Muggle were to catch sight of an altercation, it would be an easy memory supplantation. Wands and fire pokers don’t look that dissimilar, and—

“Ginny?” Harry calls. Directly into her ear.

Shit! She jumps into the air, the poker clattering to the ground.

“When did you learn to move like a cat?” she demands, turning to face him. “You nearly—”

“We need to talk,” he says brusquely. It’s only then that she takes in his wide, haunted eyes. His white pallor. The way he hasn’t even commented on the ridiculousness of her fire poker.

Oh.

He’s scared.

Scared in a way she hasn’t seen him in ages. Maybe ever. Which means he heard…? Shit. She’d might as well ask.

“What do you erm…” She toys with her wand handle. “Want to talk about?”

Harry heaves a tired sigh. “I’m only going to ask you this once,” he says flatly, rubbing his hand over his forehead. Then he blinks up at her, his eyes pulsing and stern. “What the fuck was that?”

“The… shattered lamppost?” she hedges. “I’ve no idea. I just—”

Apparently, that was the wrong response.

Harry groans. “You know damn well I don’t mean the bloody lamppost!” he snarls. “I mean that… that thing! First the weird buzzing, then whatever moved through the grass! It was like some creepy worm, or—”

“—not a worm,” she amends, staring at her cuticles.

This, too, was the wrong reply; she’s never seen him go from bewildered to enraged quite so fast.

Harry lets out a furious roar and kicks at an empty box. “This is why Unspeakables are so fucking annoying!” he shouts, tossing his hands in the air. “You never fucking say anything — even if it might help someone!”

Pfft! He can do better than that...

“Not sure what you expected,” she deadpans. “Would it help if I were a Speakable instead?”

Harry rolls his eyes and throws himself on the couch. Ginny just leans against the door… and waits. She can’t say she blames him for being angry. It’s probably made him feel vulnerable in ways he hasn’t in ages.

“The least you can bloody do,” Harry says, cutting into her thoughts, “is to let me know how to kill it.” He glimpses up at her, his chest still heaving. “Because if anything happened to you….” His hand curls around his wand, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “We both know I’d never forgive myself.”

Fuck.

Her heart clenches; as embarrassing as it is, tears sting the backs of her eyes. She wasn’t expecting that… but it makes perfect sense. He’s not angry because he’s vulnerable; he’s angry because he doesn’t know how to protect her.

Because he’s Harry.

Her Harry.

And try as she might, she can’t deny that. He’s hers… even though now he’s broken and angry and scared and alone. Which is probably why she loves the fucking fuck out of him.

No.

She stops herself, squeezing her eyes shut. Mission. Mission. They’re on a mission.

Right. She clears her throat and steps forward, two papers clutched in her hand.

“What’s that?” Harry grumbles as she hands them over. He scans the pages, brow furrowing. “Sugar… engine oil. Red Dye 40. What am I supposed to do with—?”

Ginny smiles and tries to make this easy. “It’s the report from the necklace. The thing that was on Mike’s medallion… it’s rubbish. Not blood, not some ghost slime. It’s just a weird mixture of types of rubbish.”

She should’ve figured he wouldn’t find this significant.

“What a brilliant scientific discovery.” Harry tosses the paper to the side. “Hermione would be thrilled.”

Ginny gnaws at her cheek, choosing her words carefully… but if he’s already seen it, if he’s already heard it, surely there’s no harm...

Harry rises to his feet and takes a step closer until he’s towering over her, all warm and brooding. They aren’t touching… not exactly. He’s just hovering close enough to give her strength, whether he knows it or not. When she finally gets the nerve to look up at him, his green eyes are swirling with more pain than rage. Truth be told, she prefers the rage. “I deserve to know,” he says thickly, like he’s suppressing something in his throat, “what the fuck is going on.”

Ginny breaks their eye contact. Some of this she hasn’t even shared with Attica yet. She’s violating about a million protocols by telling Harry first, but if they’re together on a mission…

“It’s… not what we thought. Not what I thought,” she admits softly, after a moment. “We came out here under the assumption of chasing something from the Thought Chamber. Something that erm… may have escaped. During a routine experiment.”

He’s not impressed, though. “Yeah,” he says, arching a brow. “I gathered all of that from your intro with the camera, thanks. Do you ever plan on telling me anything new?” He jerks his chin towards the window. “Because you’ve sure as hell never mentioned Evil Grass Monster Experiment #6, and that may have been helpful to fucking know before I saw it.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake!

His attitude is more infuriating than his actual words, but she lacks the patience for dealing with either. The bloody nerve, to act all impatient with information that’s kept secret for a reason...

“I don’t have to tell you shit, actually,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “And in case you’re unaware, I can protect myself.”

Harry pulls back with a laugh, but this one is cruel. Dark. The sort she’s never heard from him before. “Makes sense,” he says with a fake grin. Then he taps her on the nose. “Because when that thing outside inevitably kills someone else, we all know how well you’ll manage the guilt.”

Ouch.

She reels back, stung. He’s got to know that’s a low blow. Younger Ginny would have Bat Bogeyed him into oblivion, but she’s better now. She’s changed.

At least that’s what she tells herself as she glares at him, her hands fisted so tightly they turn white. “Say what you mean,” she manages several moments later, when rage isn’t clawing at her chest. “If you’d like to rehash our breakup, Auror Potter, I’m all ears!” She gives her best impression of an icy smirk. “This isn’t exactly professional… but then again, when have you ever been?”

Harry looks like he’s going to respond, but a loud vibration starts in his back pocket. “Fuck!” Now it’s his turn to leap into the air before he realizes it’s just his wand. And really, she’s tempted to laugh— but the look on his face helps her put the pieces together.

Because if his wand’s vibrating, that means it’s an emergency; only department heads can summon their employees like that. They’re the only ones with access to that sort of technology, not that she’s really interested either way.

“It’s King,” he mutters. She’s about to get on him for stating the obvious, but when he peers at her again, his face is filled with such timid yearning that she can only see the 11-year-old boy on the train platform. “Can I…erm. Use your mobile?”

Fine. Ginny nods towards the bedroom, her head still spinning. She’s still a bit angry with him, but he’s so fucking broken. They both are. And besides, they’ve got bigger problems. What could possibly have King so worried that he’d call Harry from a mission? The man is unflappable.

Harry returns a minute later, his face stony, jaw set. In another life, she might’ve seen the bulge in his pocket and asked if that’s just her mobile, or if he’s happy to see her.

Instead, she tucks her hair behind her ears like the seasoned professional she is. “There’s no reception inside,” she points out. “I’ve had luck calling Attica from up the street, right at the corner. Just watch out for…”

Harry smirks. “Grass monsters?”

Ginny draws a breath to consider her options. She could keep him in the dark forever, but isn’t that the whole point of this assignment? To learn? It’s time for the truth, she reckons...

“It’s erm. It’s called a tulpa, actually.”

His eyes light up at this. “A tulpa?”

Ginny shifts her weight and searches for the right words. “It’s a… it’s sort of like an evil imaginary friend, created by a group of people to do their bidding,” she explains, reaching for the discarded papers. “They come from the material of whatever’s underground. I’ve only heard of creatures made from clay or water, but since this village was built on a rubbish tip”— she flicks the papers with her fingers— “that’s our guy!”

She can almost see the gears spinning in Harry’s head as he studies the far wall. “So…” he says slowly, still peering off, “it’s basically an evil dump monster, made of rubbish, that can murder people.”

A laugh slips past her lips. It sounds a bit dumb when he puts it that way. She clears her throat and continues. “I was wrong because it’s not something that’s escaped, more like something that’s—”

“Formed,” Harry finishes quickly. For the first time all week, he sounds intrigued. Like he’s happy to be here. “So… they’ve made it to keep order, then?”

“It would seem so.” She shrugs. “I… honestly don’t know. But between the weird buzzing and the rubbish, it’s the closest match we’ve got. According to the system database, anyway.”

There’s another pause as Harry mulls this over. “So, how do we get rid of it, then?”

How fucked up is it that her heart warms at the way he says ‘we’?

Ginny brushes that aside. “Considering the mask in Gogolak’s house and the way they’ve made a point to tell us he’s in charge, I’d say he’s the one we need to get rid of.”

Harry crosses his arms over his chest but doesn’t object.

“Or at least… knock him totally unconscious,” she adds, swallowing; Gogolak’s a wanker, but she’d rather not kill him, either. “Beyond just being asleep. Because he sleeps at night, but the tulpa’s still here, which means he needs to be down for the count. Comatose, even.”

Harry’s wand buzzes again. Ah, shit; in all the hubbub, she’d forgotten about that.

Concern floods Harry’s face. “Give me five minutes.” He blinks. “Ok?”

She waves towards the door. “Duty calls.”

He gives her a weak smile and turns away; she begins the trek upstairs to send Attica an email update.

“Ginny?”

She stops to look down at him. Harry’s paused, halfway out the door. “Thank you,” he says softly, meeting her eyes. “And… I’m sorry. For everything. Ok? I’ll always, erm…”

But she can’t right now. She actually fucking can’t.

“Later,” she whispers, nearly begging. “Please. Let’s do this later.”

Because of course she loves him.

She’s always fucking loved him, even though that’s changed forms. It’s shifted. It’s evolved. He feels the same way… she knows he’s bloody feels the same way. She just doesn’t have the resources to deal with whatever this fuck is reigniting, right in front of her eyes, as the tulpa dances in the back of her head.

Luckily, he understands. Harry just swallows again, nods at her, and heads out into the night.

___________________________

As it would turn out, he was wrong about the identity of the summoner.

“Great news!” Hermione announces on the other end of the mobile. “MLE found Yaxley. He was hiding in a cave in Romania, just like you said.”

Harry snorts; he wishes that gave him more pride. “Well, if you’d listened to me months ago, then—”

“The important part is that we have him,” Hermione says, cutting across. “We need you back ASAP to prep for witness questioning. You’ll take the stand, of course. The trial’s set to start next week!”

He can practically hear her bouncing with excitement. Very little brings her more joy than trials of former Death Eaters.

“Erm… about that.” Harry rubs the back of his neck. “We’re actually right on the cusp of something here. I’m gonna need a couple more days to wrap things up.”

“Really?” Hermione sounds surprised. “Kingsley and Robards said you’d be pleased. Said you found this mission as useless as they did.”

Fuck, he was such an arse.

“Well, things… changed,” he offers lamely. “It’s going really well. This mission is so important to her. I’d just hate to leave at the last minute.”

“Ohhh?” Hermione draws out the word in a way that suggests she finds herself quite clever. Even before she asks, he knows what she’s on about. “How’s it going with Ginny, then?”

Harry rolls his eyes. Her coy prodding is obvious, even over the phone.

“As I already said, it’s going well,” he replies flatly. “We’re a great team. Always have been.”

But she can’t let him have that one, can she?

“Well… not always,” Hermione allows. “After Percy—”

Harry groans. For fuck’s sake, what’s her obsession with stating the obvious? “Yeah, well,” he retorts, “I’d like to know who you think did well after that, especially since…”

He trails off with a sigh.

Especially since what, exactly?

He toys with the fraying ends of his hoodie string.

Especially since Ginny was the last to speak with Percy? That she still carries the weight of the guilt for what she said that night? That she’s never admitted it, but that he suspects her choice to become an Unspeakable was influenced by the things she wishes she could un-say?

Harry makes a face. That’s corny as fuck, isn’t it? What a thing to pull from his arse...

Hermione interrupts his thoughts for a bit of bragging. “Well, Ron and I have done just fine.”

He can almost imagine her staring at her engagement ring in dreamy affection. The mental image makes his reply sound more bitter than he intends.

“Well,” Harry snaps, “Ron wasn’t the last person to speak with Percy. So I’m not sure how you could compare the two, really.”

Shit.

The silence on the other end tells him he needs to apologize, even if it’s true. Fortunately, Hermione gives him an easy out. “Anyway.” She clears her throat. “I’ll give you until tomorrow night, but we really need you the following day. If you haven’t settled this, we’re swapping you out. Got it?”

Harry sighs. He’s exhausted, but this couldn’t possibly take much longer. Ginny’s more or less got the proof she needs now. They just need to confront Gogolak, knock him out, and—

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Harry cranes his neck towards the source of the noise. Huh… weird. Far up the street, flashing lights tip him off. That’s definitely Oliver’s Audi, the one parked in the driveway directly beside theirs. It’s in utopia blue with a metallic finish, a detail Oliver probably mentioned at least fifty times the other night. Then, while Sharon and Ginny were out walking the dog, Oliver began a mind-numbing lecture on the car’s exact miles per liter. Harry was a bit drunk, which is probably why he interrupted to ask a much more important maths question: How many blow jobs per week is too many, exactly?

Even from a distance, Harry can tell that Oliver’s nearly the same shade of murderous red now; he storms from the house and turns off the alarm with his key fob. But then he pauses, glancing around like something’s spooked him. He must decide it’s not that significant, though, because he huffs back inside soon enough. Fucking wanker...

“....Harry?”

“Sorry!” Harry shakes his head. “Yeah, sorry, that works. See you then, Hermione.”

“Can’t wait!” she trills. He doesn’t need to see her face to know she’s smug and grinning.

___________________________

Two minutes after Harry leaves, Ginny feels it again: that same sensation she experienced while walking Captain Bone.

She’s sitting at her laptop when it starts… this deeply unsettling shift. It stands the hair up on the back of her neck. She rushes to the window on instinct, but just like before, everything outside looks the same. There’s no “moving grass monster,” as Harry called it. Not yet, at least.

Still, she can’t deny it’s growing louder. Getting stronger. And now that she’s felt it for a bit longer, she can put more words to it. It’s like she’s plummeting through the absence of sound; like all the wind’s been sucked from the air. It’s a building pressure, a mounting unease, and before she knows it, her whole body starts to shake.

Then two things happen in quick succession: that weird feeling stops, and a car alarm begins to blare in the distance.

Weird.

She shudders. This whole thing is so fucking weird. Weird is her job, and this place is still Very Fucking Weird. Seriously, who enjoys living here? She’s reaching for her wand, just in case, when the front door slams open.

In retrospect, it’s a blessing she knows Harry as well as she does… because she can tell that those heavy, clobbering footsteps don’t belong to him. She knows he’s not the one drawing deep, ragged breaths as he marches up the stairs.

She hides around the corner of the bedroom, her heart racing, and goes through a mental list of spells she might use. Shield charms. Enchantments. The buzzing’s stopped, so this probably isn’t the tulpa… but who else would be here? Gogolak? It sounds more human than—

“Jenny?” a deep, soothing voice asks. “Are you in here?”

Her breath freezes in her throat. She’s only heard that voice once before… but it’s so similar to her former life that she identifies it at once.

“Mike?” A wave of relief washes through her. She shoves her wand into her dress as she comes around the corner. Sure enough, there he is, in the flesh. Mike Snodgrass. A man she presumed dead days ago.

“Hi!” Mike pants. He cracks a smile. “I’d offer to shake your hand, but.” He winces, wiping a palm on his ripped khakis. “Been hiding!” Fuck. His whole outfit (yellow Polo, khakis) is the same he wore days ago to unload their boxes, except now it’s filthy. Stained. Like he’s been living beneath cars and inside drains. He’s just missing his Saint Julian medallion, which she’s sent to the Ministry.

Ginny feels sick. She wrote him off as dead so carelessly...

“I’ve been trying to take it down,” he adds earnestly, peering at her. His cheeks are caked in something red and grimy, the same stuff she stuffed into her bra. He’s been tailing the tulpa, she realizes, her stomach plummeting…

Except he’s got no clue what he’s doing.

“I was about to leave the development, to just run away, but that’s when I figured out it was coming for you two!” He shudders, closing his eyes. It feels like he’s been waiting a long, long time to say this. “And I’ve been aimless without Jess in the first place. So what was the point in leaving, really, if I could save…?”

He trails off, clearing his throat; when he looks up at her again, there’s a flash of annoyance in his eyes. “I’ve been leaving clues, though! Why didn’t you listen?”

“Clues?” Ginny sounds like she’s a million miles away.

Mike’s nearly pleading now. “You had to go and kick the mailbox and stick the flamingo in the grass, didn’t you?” He raises his pointer finger. “And even though I left you a note, you had to make it even worse! It only attacks when the sun goes down, see.”

“You… you left the note?” she whispers. She was so certain that it was from Gogolak...

But Mike proceeds in such a rush it’s clear he hasn’t heard her. “It was about to get Henry by the trampoline, so I threw the baseball as a diversion. I broke the lamppost, too— which worked. For a second,” he adds hastily, glancing over his shoulder.

“How did you also set off the car alarm— oh.” Her head’s still spinning. “Buddy system. Right.”

Mike dangles a keyfob. “Covenant rules. Stole the spare off Jane.” He glances into the hall again before whipping back to face her. “It’ll need a sacrifice tonight, though,” he adds grimly. “And every night, until you all have perfect behavior. It was coming for you earlier, see. We aren’t meant to be outdoors after dark without a permit for dog-walking, so.” He shrugs. “If there’s an unapproved disruption like a car alarm, it knows just where to hunt.”

It’s then that the final pieces of this dreadful puzzle slide together in her brain. “Captain Bone,” Ginny breathes; she swears a feather could knock her over. “He was the first since we arrived. Punishment for us sticking out.”

“I couldn’t save him,” Mike laments. “It came up and snatched him. So I threw in my medallion, right after his collar, just to make them think I was already gone.”

“That’s… that was brilliant,” she admits, biting her lip. “Thank you. You didn’t have—”

“Nah,” he says firmly. “I did. For starters, you remind me so much of…” He stops mid-sentence, an odd expression on his face.

For a second, she thinks he’s being sentimental, but then she feels it too.

Shit.

The hairs on her arm stand up. It’s back… that weird way she felt before. Like the air’s sucked from the room. That creeping, clawing silence. This time, though, it only gets louder, louder, louder, until she’s throwing her hands over her ears, all hope of self-defense forgotten.

But Mike knows what he’s doing. He knows exactly what he’s doing. She doesn’t have the chance to object or get her wand before he’s ripping open the closet door and throwing her inside. Ginny opens her mouth in a startled cry, but it’s like she’s screaming underwater, the sound distant and distorted. Mike slams the door closed with her inside and stomps to the center of the room— but now the thundering, roaring wind is causing her physical pain… it’s so loud now that it reverberates in her chest, so loud that her hands shake as she reaches for her wand at long last, but fuck fuck fuck, it’s too late…

It’s too fucking late.

Because Mike’s made a choice. One he can’t take back. He just stands in the middle of the room, puffing out his chest, offering himself as the proud sacrifice, even as the noise grows so loud that Ginny screams her throat raw.

She feels it enter the bedroom, this looming, shifting mass— but by then, she’s certain her ears are bleeding, her eardrums bursting. Her whole body rattles and shakes as she peers through the slats in the closet door, but she’s frozen. Stuck. Miserable. She couldn’t cast a spell if she tried… even as the tulpa oozes into the room, lunges itself back, and swallows Mike with a sickening squelch.

Even though the slats of the door, Ginny’s sprayed with blood. Covered. And she’s dizzy now… so dizzy. A drop of blood trickles into her eye; she reaches up to wipe it from her face, and it’s only then that she hears her own screams again. They reverberate through the small space, anguished and pleading, so loud that she’s certain someone up the street could hear, but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t fucking care. She just screams over and over and over, her nails clawing at the walls, until the world slips away into darkness.

___________________________

Blood.

It’s the first thing he smells as he charges up the steps. His chest squeezes, his eyes water, his head pounds over and over again with one word: No.

No. No. No.

Not Ginny. It can’t be.

But almost as soon as he smells the blood, he hears her screaming, and yes! His heart soars. Screaming is good; screaming means she’s alive and breathing and—

Fuck.

His dinner rises in his throat as he steps into the bedroom. He smelled the blood from the steps, he hadn’t expected… this much. It always takes him aback, exactly how much blood is in one human body, and he’s certainly never seen it sprayed, all over the floor… covering the walls. Covering the closet, even, where Ginny’s still screaming.

He flings open the door, thinking he’s prepared for what he might see. Somehow, though, none of that measures up. Because he’s dealt with tears in his line of work… but he’s never, ever seen her so broken. His chest clenches when he takes her in. Her perfect suburban dress — the yellow floral one, the one he liked so much— is now red and grimy, caked in blood, as Ginny rocks back and forth on the floor, sobs wracking her body.

Blood’s covering her face, too, and her arms. Dried trails of it have crusted around her eyes, like she’s fallen asleep wiping them away… or perhaps lost consciousness. The thought is too terrible to bear. He kicks the door open completely and brings her into his arms in one fell swoop.

She melts against him, her voice raw and broken. “H-Harry!” she manages. “P-please! I need-I need!” She begins to shake, pressing her face to his chest.

“A shower,” he says firmly, stepping into the en-suite. “You… you just need a shower. Ok? And maybe some calming draught, I’ve got some in my luggage, and—”

“No!” she cries, shaking her head. Her eyes are wide and filled with horror. “Don’t… don’t leave. Don’t leave me, Harry, please!”

“I… ok,” he allows, carrying her to his luggage to retrieve the bottle. She clings to his neck as he reaches for it, but she weighs next to nothing. Fuck, she’s so thin… he’d just been too busy eyeing her up to realize exactly how thin. What a complete wanker.

It’s not difficult to unzip the suitcase with one hand and pass her the bottle. “Take this,” he urges, thrusting it into her hands. “Please, Ginny. You’ll feel—”

She’s already downed it before he gets to the end of the sentence. She tips her head back, drawing air into her lungs. “Thanks.” Her voice is still hoarse. Ragged.

“Shower, then,” he murmurs, walking her into the bathroom. He feels her start to relax against him, her body growing looser, as he opens the curtain and turns on the tap.

“Thanks,” she whispers again, her head tucked beneath his chin. His fingers itch with restraint; he’d do anything, he thinks, to hold her against him. To press a kiss to her temple. To tell her he loves her and that she’s beautiful and perfect and he’s sorry, so sorry, that any of this happened and—

She peers up at him, her eyes more focused now, less wide-eyed and horror-struck. “Would you stay here?” she asks, biting her lip. “While I shower? Just so I’m not—”

“‘Course.” Harry swallows, putting her on her feet. She lands with unintentional grace, one foot after the next.

“And can you… erm.” She turns her back to him, lifting her hair above her zipper. His hands shake as he reaches for the clasp. He knows the exact shape of her back as he slides it down, over the middle bump of her white bra strap. He nearly unstraps that for her, too, before he catches himself. It reeks of intimacy, doesn’t it? All of this…

His eyes linger on the soft swell of her bum before he turns around, self-disgust hammering in his throat.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he adds feebly. He balls his hands into fists as her dress hits the floor… followed by her bra. And her knickers.

“Not your fault,” she croaks, stepping into the shower. He smiles, his glasses fogging up as he moves to sit on the closed toilet seat. Even covered in blood and traumatized, she can't bring herself to blame him.

She finishes several minutes later.

“Erm… towel?” She shuts the water off. “Could you?”

“Sure,” he soothes, thrusting one through the curtain. “D’you want me to leave, or…?”

Ginny manages a weak snort. “Nah. Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

He chuckles at the door as he turns around again. She’s right, of course; he knows every bloody inch of her… but it’s not quite the same now.

There’s a tap on his shoulder. He whips around to face her. Admittedly, she looks… better. The blood’s gone. Her eyes are still red-rimmed from sobbing, but she’s looking a bit less like a woman who witnessed a death. Which reminds him…

“Erm. Give me a second to get it all cleaned up?”

Ginny shudders and settles on the toilet seat; he immediately kicks himself for asking. “Yeah,” she says a moment later. “Just… come get me, ok? When you’re done?”

He nods.

___________________________

It can’t be later than 10 PM when he finally carries her to the bed, still wrapped in a towel.

He’s exhausted from the nights on the sofa, but he knows she’s worse off. He’s cleaned the bedroom fairly well, he thinks, considering. There’s a rust-colored stain above the closet that he reckons won’t go anywhere anytime soon. He just hopes she doesn’t see it.

He rests her on the duvet surface, fully prepared to head downstairs for the night— but the pleading look on her face informs him he’s got other plans, instead. So without sharing a single word, he spreads his palms, lies beside her, and waits.

It comes eventually, as he knew it would. One person can’t deal with all that, see all that, without eventually cracking. And as a fellow fucked-up individual, he would know.

It starts as simple tears, ones that he wipes away. It progresses into sobs… full-body sobs. The sort he heard coming up the stairs. He’s surprised she’s got any left, but Ginny’s always been the sort to keep him on his toes. And just as her water-dark hair starts to dry and sprout red tendrils, he faces the thing he expected least of all: a kiss.

She starts softly. Slowly. Her lips so tender and soft that he forgets everything. She moans against his mouth, her whole body leaning into it; he’s instantly reminded of how much he’s fucking missed her. How lonely he’s been. How could he have forgotten the tiny mewl she makes in the back of her throat as her tongue parts his lips? He must’ve blocked it out, he realizes, as she begins to slide her body against him, panting, as she tips her head back. His lips trail down her neck, nibbling and biting, as she grips his arms and hair and bum. Because if he’d remembered all of these little details, he’d have gone mad long ago.

He’s throbbing hard by the time he gets to the tail end of her towel, which brushes the tip of her thighs. He tries to adjust himself, to—

“You can take it out, you know.”

Oh. He blinks up at her, his breath freezing in his throat. She’s peering down at him, her lips red and swollen.

“I know you’re hard,” she adds, her voice still raw. “So if it’s uncomfortable… take it out.”

He arches a brow from his position at her thigh. He’s about to retort with something snappy. Something that might keep them bantering for ages. But Ginny has no patience.

“Please.” It’s nearly a command. She blinks down with glassy eyes, her lips swollen. “I want you, Harry.”

Fuck. He groans, rubbing his cock against his palm to relieve some of the pressure. It doesn’t help for long, not that it matters; he’d rather focus on her, anyway. So with a slip of his fingers, the towel opens. She releases a breathy moan, tipping her head back.

Naked.

She’s finally naked. In front of him. His breathing grows ragged, his eyes scanning the territory somehow both totally familiar and completely new. She is thinner; he was right. Her hip bones jut out now, her stomach more sunken. But most of her is the same. The smattering of freckles on her chest. The way her breasts have puckered and darkened, the way her chest is rising and falling so fast. The thatch of dark red hair at the apex of her thighs.

“Well,” she quips. He blinks up at her as she reclines on her elbow. “Are you going to fuck me, Harry, or just stare all day?”

With that, he removes his glasses and gives her a smirk— her only real warning— before he kisses her one more time, just as his fingers spread her thighs.

She opens beneath him with a breathy sigh. Fuck, she’s so wet… he groans into her mouth as he dips his fingers further and further down. She’s dripping by the time he finds her clit… by the time he begins to swirl in tight circles. Clockwise. The pattern that screams of such intimate familiarity that it’s as if the years never passed.

He’s scarcely done anything, but she’s already writhing against his fingers, arching her back. “Please,” she slurs after a minute, “put them in.”

He’s never been one to deny her, has he?

It’s like muscle memory how quickly he finds his face between her thighs instead. He spares a moment of self-indulgence as he closes his eyes, breathing her in. She smells like home. She always has. It’s comfort… but more than that, it’s proof. Proof she wants him as much as he wants her. It’s why he stuffed his face in her knickers whenever he got a spare moment on the Horcrux hunt: one hand on that black lace, the other pulling at his cock. It’s bloody erotic, seeing proof of how much she wants him… but it’s more than that.

It’s love.

And despite all the things he’s forgotten tonight, he’d never forget this. He presses two fingers inside her, his hands shaking, and lets his body do the rest. Fuck, he’s missed this. She cries out above him, her hands grasping at his hair, tugging him closer. He’s never forgotten this… the way she tastes. The way she smells. The right way to run his tongue against her clit. Exactly how many fingers she needs, pressed against her just there… crooked in a certain position… just as she begins to thrust herself up and down on them, her cries growing louder, more insistent… and yesssss, there it is, she’s right there, right fucking there—

“Harry!” Her hair rubs against the pillow with abandon. “I’m… I’m so close,” she pants, her body starting to shake.

“Come for me,” he commands, his cock fit to burst, his face slippery. “Come for me, Ginny.”

He returns to her clit for a split-second before she says the words that change everything.

Her whole body tenses, a blush spreading up her chest. “I love you!” she cries, her voice strangled… and with that, she’s coming, clenching around him, her body shaking as he rides her through it.

What he doesn’t tell her is that he comes, too. The second those words wash over him. Those fucking words that prove he’s fucked up, fucked up, fucked up… but he can’t exactly help that, can he?

He just shoves his face into the duvet, thrusting his hips once, twice, and with a grunt, he’s off. His cock tightens and bursts, filling his boxers. Soaking through his jeans. He pulls back, dizzy, when the clenching finally stops.

Luckily, she seems too distracted to notice. Ginny’s half-asleep as he rises from between her thighs, pulling the blanket over her. He presses a kiss to her temple and makes quick work of removing his soggy clothes. Fairly embarrassing, this. Like he’s 16 again and rutting on the lawn.

He mutters a quick cleaning charm and changes into basketball shorts before settling down beside her in bed… making sure he’s on top of the duvet.

But as he drifts off, there’s something far less sentimental that hammers through his chest: They need to get their shit sorted.

Before he ever, ever lets that happen again.

#harry/ginny fanfic #harry x ginny #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction

43 notes · View notes

kinglazrus · 4 years ago

Text

Not Your Danny – Ch 1. Moving Day

Phic Phight | Next | FFN | AO3

Submitted by @ecto-american: After Danny’s untimely death, his family and friends turn to Dani for comfort. She was so much like him in every single way. And she never felt more like a clone. A replacement for the “real” thing.

Summary: Maddie and Jack learn a lot of things about their son after his death: his powers, his secret life as the local hero, the truth behind his accident three years ago. And his clone who is so much like their boy. When Dani gets the offer to join their home, she thinks it's too good to be true. And she just might be right.

Word count: 2761

Two weeks after Danny dies, Danielle moves into his bedroom. It's a lacklustre affair. Dani has no belongings to bring with her, except the few trinkets stuffed in the pockets of her shorts. She only owns one pair of clothes, two of you want to be technically and count her ghost form. But that's tenuous at best when you consider the circumstances of her creation, and that her clothes were created withher, not given to her. She doesn't like to think about that too much, though.

Neither of Danny's parents are home for the occasion. Dani doesn't blame them. Her face time with Maddie and Jack Fenton over the past three years equals an hour at most—hour and a half if she really pushes it. And most of that time was with an ectogun between them. If she counts the times where she hasn't been staring down a glowing green barrel, then it's probably only five minutes, maybe less. And that only happened a few days ago.

Suffice to say, Dani and the Fentons don't have a good relationship, or a relationship of any kind. So she doesn't blame them for being out of the house when their dead son's clone, who they only recently found out about, takes over his bedroom. Although take over might be too strong of a phrase.

Dani floats next to Jazz, hovering in front of Danny's open bedroom door.

"Is it... okay?" Jazz asks.

Dani drifts inside, turning her head from side to side as she looks around. She likes the blue walls, and the open brick on the outer wall is kind of cool. The bed, covered in a purple bead spread, topped with a fluffy pillow, looks softer than anything she's ever slept on. The room is nice, if a bit messy with Danny's stuff still inside. Posters decorate the wall, some about space, others from some band called Dumpty Humpy. The shelves are stuffed full of books and model spaceships. His dirty clothes lie next to an open hamper in the corner of the room.

The sight surprises Dani more than anything.

"What are you gonna do with his stuff?" she asks. "Do people usually just," she gestures toward the room, "leave it like this?"

"What? No." Jazz shakes her head and quickly wipe her hand across her eyes. "When someone dies, their family or friends eventually pack their stuff away. Not always right away, though."

"Two weeks isn't long enough?"

Jazz's breath hitches. "Don't– don't say that. It's inconsiderate."

Dani's cheeks go hot at Jazz's admonishing tone. "Oh. Sorry." She floats further into the room, if only to escape the awkward air settling between them.

If Dani didn't know any better, she would guess that Danny had just stepped outside for a second and would be back any moment. Lowering herself to the floor, Dani settles on the carpet and walks toward the desk. A controller of some kind sits on the desk chair, its cord tangled with a headset. Dani picks the controller up and turns it over in her hand. She only vaguely recognizes the X logo in the middle of it; her travels over the past couple of years haven't exactly involved a lot of gaming. Or any.

There was a small handheld system she picked up at a garage sale once. She carried it for a few months but lost it somewhere along the way.

Dani tosses the controller onto the chair and turns back to Jazz. "So, now what?"

"Well, if you're not comfortable with Danny's things still being in here, we can get some boxes and start packing. I think we have some in the basement. If you want." Jazz tacks on the last three words with a soft voice.

"No, it's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, course." It's just stuff, after all. Dani doesn't quite get it, which also means she doesn't care. If the Fentons don't want to move Danny's stuff yet, then it can stay. He was their son before he was Dani's cousin/DNA source.

"Okay. I guess I'll just... let you get settled, then. I have to work on some plans for the memorial, but Mom and Dad should be home in a couple hours. They said they wouldn't be gone long," Jazz says.

Dani nods. A few seconds of silence pass, and once it's obvious that neither of them is going to say anything more, Jazz turns and walks down the hall. Finally alone, Dani lets her ghost form fall away. The transformation rings prickle as their bright light ghosts over her skin, and when it fades, she's left in her typical shorts and hoodie. Dani rubs her arms until the prickling fades, then flops onto the bed.

Damn. It really is the softest thing she's ever lain on. And the blankets are warm. They smell like Danny, too. That's something Dani never thought she would think. She didn't even realize Danny had a smell, but it's hard to ignore now. It's not the most tangible smell. The best word Dani can find to describe it is crisp, like a cold day. She would bet her beanie that it was because of his ice powers, an ability they had never shared.

Dani shakes her head. Everything is weird enough right now. The last thing she needs to be contemplating is how Danny used to smell. It's also, like, a super creepy line of thought, yeah? Yeah.

As she stares up at the ceiling, a blur of movement catches her eye. Her gaze jumps toward it, in the corner of the bedroom closest to the door. A small brown lump clings to the ceiling. A bug, no doubt. Dani can't tell what kind, and she doesn’t care enough to find out. It's not too surprising, considering how messy Danny's room is. There's probably some old pizza hiding under his bed or something.

Dani rolls onto her side and closes her eyes. A little bug doesn't bother her, not after the places she's slept. And if the Fentons won't be home for a while, and Jazz is busy, she might as well take advantage of her new bed and the next few hours to get some shuteye. God knows she needs it.

—

Maddie feels sorry for Vlad's receptionist. She bears a striking resemblance to Maddie herself, with short auburn hair just a touch redder than Maddie's own, a curvy frame, and a sharp, pointed chin. She's even wearing blue, bless her heart. The girl is pretty, and young, and kind. Can't be too far out of high school, and hoping a job at the mayor's office will look good on her resume. Maddie hopes it pays off. The girl deserves it for putting up with Vlad daily. Working for him seems to be taking a toll on her, judging by the distressed look in her eyes when she looks up from Vlad's appointment book.

"I'm sorry, there's no appointment for you. I don't know if I can let you in," she says.

Maddie sighs. "Mr. Masters left me a message"—or several—"asking me to come in."

"I'm really sorry, but he didn't mention expecting you... oh no." The receptionist's eyes widen and she starts digging through papers on her desk. "Did I forget to write it down again? He got so upset last time."

Maddie reaches out and touches her shoulder, stopping the frantic search. "It's all right, dear. It's not your fault."

She suspected, when Vlad left numerous messages on her cellphone rather than calling the house, that something more was up. How Vlad even got her cellphone number she doesn't want to know. She will also be changing it very soon thanks to this incident.

"He's particular about his meetings," the receptionist says. "I really can't let you in."

"Just let him know I'm here, and I'll take care of the rest."

The receptionist nods. While she goes for the phone, Maddie steps away from the desk and turns back to the waiting area. It's empty besides her and the receptionist—not surprising this early on a Monday, and all the better for Maddie. She pulls her cellphone from her purse and checks the time; It's just after eight. Dani is due at Fenton Works soon, but Maddie and Jack won't be back until noon, at least. The reminder makes her wince.

Missing half of Dani's first day at home isn't ideal, but Maddie wants to get this meeting over with as fast as possible. They had other plans in the city, anyway, made before they invited Dani into their home. Better to get everything done at once.

Maddie eyes plush waiting room armchairs, wondering if there's any point in sitting down, when the receptionist calls out, "Mrs. Fenton?"

Maddie opens her mouth to answer, but her phone—still in her hand—buzzes at that moment. Jack's name stretches across the screen. "Excuse me." She steps toward the elevators on the far side of the room and turns her back to the receptionist, the closest semblance of privacy she can get, before answering her phone. "Hey, Jack. Is your meeting done already?"

"Not even close! How goes the shopping?"

"Fine so far. I forgot we didn't ask...." She tenses, feeling the receptionist's stare at her back. "We didn't ask what she might need, so I'm just grabbing the basics. Do you want me to pick something up for you? Are you waiting on the park board?"

"About that... I'm with them now, and—what day did we settle on for the memorial, again?"

Maddie shakes her head, but not out of annoyance. Jack forgetting the day hardly surprises her. He tends to forget the little details. If anything, it makes her feel grounded. The past two weeks have been a lot, to put it lightly. A lot of changes. A lot of revelations. But she can always rely on Jack to be his usual self.

"A month from today," she says.

"Thanks, baby! You're the best! See you later." The phone beeps as Jack hangs up. Maddie sighs while the corner of her lip twitches upwards. It's the closest she's come to smiling since Danny died. She holds like that for a moment, caught between the ache choking her heart and the desire for things to get better. They won't, not for a long time. She won't fool herself into thinking otherwise. But it's nice, for a moment, to pretend things might be okay.

"Leaving Jack alone with the DPR? I feel sorry for them." Vlad's slimy voice ruins the moment after the first syllable.

Maddie tenses, clutching her phone tighter, and turns to face him. "Vlad. It's bad business to ask for a meeting, then make your guest wait."

When Vlad smiles, his whitened teeth cut a bright slash across his cheeks. It's too wide, too sharp. Never reaches his eyes. Maddie remembers, long ago, when Vlad had a soft smile. He used it sparingly, doling it out to only the most deserved. She can't imagine him smiling like that now.

"Well, I don't mean to be presumptive, but when I phone a friend hoping for a visit, I expect them to stop by my house, not my work."

"Your mistake, then."

The receptionist's typing falters. Her have yet to stray from her screen, but Maddie already knows she's listening in. Vlad probably does, too.

"Natalie!" he snaps.

The receptionist jerks upright. "Yes, sir?"

Vlad rests a hand on Maddie's back and pushes her forward. She moves, if only to step out of his reach, and heads toward his office. Vlad reaches into his suit jacket as he walks. He pulls out his wallet and pinches a few random bills, tugging them out without looking. "Take a break. I'm sure you could use a coffee to perk you up."

He leans in front of Maddie to drop the bills on Natalie's desk. The contact makes Maddie grimace, and she hurries ahead into his office. When she turns, Vlad is already closing the door. The last thing Maddie sees of the waiting room is Natalie's frown as she glances at a paper cup sitting in plain view on her desk.

"Now, Maddie." Vlad turns. Rather than heading to his desk, he steps toward Maddie and touches her arm. "How are you doing?"

"You left me seven messages just so you could ask that?" Maddie brushes Vlad's hand off. In three long strides, she cuts across his office and takes one of the visitor's chairs. While the waiting room had plush armchairs, these are made of dark wood, armless, with firm leather cushions and straight backs. A deliberate choice, no doubt.

Vlad comes up beside her, his hand on the second chair. Before he can sit, Maddie swings her purse off her shoulder and drops it on the empty cushion. Vlad pauses, glances between her and the bag, but relents and takes his seat at the desk instead.

His chair sits considerably higher than Maddie's.

"I can imagine the pain you're going through right now," he says.

Maddie's fists clench. "Can you really?"

"Believe it or not, yes, I can." He pauses, giving her a chance to respond. But whatever question he wants her to ask, whatever game he wants to play, Maddie refuses to give in. She might have put up with him once, but after what he's done, he will be lucky if she willingly suffers his presence ever again after today.

She waits for Vlad to elaborate.

"I'm sure you've wondered, all this time, where Danny went whenever he disappeared for hours. Being our city's young hero explains a lot of it, yes, but to be honest, that wasn't everything." Vlad stops to take a deep breath, closing his eyes for a brief moment. It's quite the performance. "To tell you the truth, he was often with me."

Bullshit! Maddie wants to shout, but she bites it back. Her jaw aches from how hard she clenches her teeth.

"I discovered his secret a long time ago and gave him a safe place away from home. You know, when conversation at the dinner table got to be too much." Vlad pauses again, letting his words sink in.

Maddie hates that she knows exactly what he means. All those times she and Jack discussed their inventions, their plans for when they finally captured the ghost boy. Most of what Vlad is saying might be a lie, but the truth within it cuts her deeply. "Really?"

Vlad might think himself a great actor, but he's apparently ignorant to Maddie's own deception. He nods at her questioning tone, eyes low and mouth pressed into a grim line. "I understand this is hard to hear. I did my best to make him feel safe, and we actually became close. Over the years, I came to think of him as something of a son. And his death has affected me deeply."

He stands, trailing his hand along his desk as he walks around toward Maddie. His shoulders droop, as if Danny's absence weighs on him. It really is a good performance. Peering closer, Maddie sees that he even looks pallid, and purple bags rest under his eyes. A look easily accomplished with some pale foundation and smudged eyeshadow.

"It's like a piece of me is missing without him. I'm sure you feel the same. We need each other, Maddie. To make us whole again."

Vlad reaches toward her, but she ducks away from him, slipping out of her chair. His hand falls through the empty air and he stumbles, nearly falling into the chair.

Now he's being ridiculous, Maddie thinks. She could have fallen for the makeup and the sob story if she didn't know better, but the off balance act? The distressed look in his eye when she pulls away? She's insulted that he thinks she would fall for it.

"You're right Vlad. I'm in pain. Danny is gone and it feels like he took a piece of me with him when he died. But I have my family to help me through it." She grabs her purse off the other chair and heads for the door. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be."

"Madeline, please—"

"Vladimir!" Her shout tears at her throat. She turns on him, blinking to fight back the burn in her eyes. He stands frozen where she left him, crumpled pathetically against her empty chair, one hand still outstretched. Maddie swallows the lump in her throat. "Enough."

She leaves without another word.

#phic phight #phic phight 2021 #notyourdanny #nyd chapter one #phanfic #phicc #dp fanfiction #danny phantom #dani phantom #danielle phantom #hurt/comfort #family #danny phantom fanfiction #trans danny #trans danny fenton

71 notes · View notes

mexcraziness-art · 4 years ago

Photo

Monkie Kid/JTTW OC: Liang Xingti

Okay, so this bio is going to be pretty messy, mostly because I’m really tired these days, but also because I’m still reading Journey to the West, and still waiting on the new seasons of the show. So I can’t go into details too deeply until I find out more, this is more of a general outline of what I have in mind for her so far!

Name: Liang Xingti (亮星体),Tong Bi Yuanhou (通臂猿猴) Nickname: Gab Gender: Female

Liang Xingti, also known as the Long/Magic Armed Gibbon or just „Gab”, much like Wukong, she’s one of the Four Spiritual Monkeys, see the one and only mention in Journey to the West:

„The third kind is the magic−armed gibbon that can catch the sun or moon, shrink mountains, see what is auspicious and what is not, and fool around with heaven and earth.”

History: Xingti was born from a cloud after a full solar-eclipse, as the circumstances of her birth concerned Heaven she was soon taken in by Taibai Jinxing, the Gold Star of Venus, as a discipline. She grew up in the Heavenly Court, and was trained in combat by Erlang Shen. Despite now being a Heavenly Warrior she was mostly running errands for Jinxing and the Jade Emperor. After Wukong showed up in Heaven she was really intrigued by him, as she never met a monkey like her before. She developed a strange mix of appreciation and irritation towards Wukong as time went on, and after he became the Great Sage Equaling Heaven the two of them became semi-friends, usually sparring together. Wukong also showed her a new perspective on life, and she began to internally question her life and role in the heavenly court. When Wukong rebelled against and rampaged through Heaven she tried to fight him as well, and meanwhile normally they were pretty evenly matched, she didn’t stand a chance, as her doubts held her back and Wukong’s rage filled War Form was simply way out of her league at the time. After the Buddha trapped Wukong under the mountain her doubts in Heaven increased, now with added guilt on top. After Heaven banished Sandy, and their treatment of Bai Long Ma, she finally had enough and tried to leave Heaven. She was warned by her master Jinxing that Heaven might take this as an act of rebellion, so she was forced to stay, but she took more and longer trips to Earth. When she heard Wukong was freed she occasionally visited him and his company of their Journey, though his situation left a bad taste in her mouth. After this she spent the next few hundred years doing the same, running errands for Heaven and fighting demons on their orders.

(The following is mostly relevant to the 4+1 Monkeys AU)

In the present day she was sent by Heaven to Earth to find Wukong and get help to investigate and try to capture Macaque for reasons the Jade Emperor didn’t share with her, this lead to her being suspicious about her mission from the start. When she went to Flower Fruit Mountain to get Wukong’s help, she ran into MK, and soon found out that Wukong trains him as his successor, which lead the two of them to having a fight, and Xingti leaving to capture Macaque alone. However she was followed by MK who offered to help her, which she accepted, endangering MK in the process. Of course Wukong showed up last minute and the two of them captured Macaque. Later Xingti revelaed she doesn’t want to turn Macaque over to Heaven until she finds out more about their motivations, so she decided to stay on Flower Fruit Mountain with Macaque as their prisoner until they find out more, which left Wukong less than impressed.

Personality: Having grown up in Heaven, Gab was a model discipline, she never questioned authority, or the orders she was given. She was trained to be level headed and controlled as Heaven was vary of her possible wild nature. After she met Wukong and started to question Heaven she slowly became more rebellious, second guessing her orders and asking too many questions. As she spent more and more time on Earth and away from Heaven, she developed a loud, brash and snarky personality, she has a crude sense of humor, and likes to mess with people for the fun of it. She’s playful but likes to see just how far she was push someone by annoying them before they get pissed off. However also having grown up in Heaven, she grew up pretty isolated, and making meaningful connections is pretty hard for her. She doesn’t handle rejection well, and gets quickly angered when she feels confused or conflicted about something, specially if it’s relationship related. She also uses this to hide her sensitivity, which she views as a weakness. She mostly tries to show the affection and fondness she has for someone by being an absolute pest in their lives, and hope for the best.

Powers and Abilities:

She has all the standard abilities of a Spiritual Monkey and a Heavenly Warrior, including: -Immortality -Super strength and super speed -Chi manipulation -Cloud Generation -Flight

Other Abilities: -36 Heavenly Transformations (much like Wukong, she can’t change her tail) -Cloud Clones -She can use the essence of the Sun and Moon for various spells and magical abilities, she can also cause full lunar and solar ecplises by forcing the sun and the moon to move in place, this gives her a full power boost however this is also one of the things that can kill her. -Size changing of objects: She can change the size of anything to any size at will. -Fortune Sense/Opportunity Sense: She can sense how favorable a situation/decision could be.

Weapon: Her staff, made out of a droplet of Sun and Moon, is her signature weapon. She usually keeps it in her belt on her back, in it’s basic Handle form. She can command it to grow into a staff, which is how she usually uses it in combat. And at it’s strongest, she can summon a Sun and Moon blades on each end, as it’s third form.

Relationships:

Sun Wukong: She has sort of a back-and-forth relationship with Wukong. She loves to annoy and pester him and constantly challenge him to sparring matches, as they’re one of the few people who actually pose a challenge to the other. She likes to get a rise out of him, to knock him down a peg from his high and mightiness. She also loves to constantly remind him of his embarassing events in Heaven. Generally she’s just a little shit towards Wukong, but in a friendly, familiar way. To Wukong she’s more of an unwelcome nuisance that he’d rather avoid, but at the end of the way they both hold a fondness for eachother, just locked away deep, deep down, due to their shared experience with Heaven, and really both of them would rather die than ever admit it out loud.

MK: Much like Wukong, she likes to bully MK in the friendly way. She constantly pesters and makes fun of him, sometimes even „showing him some fighting moves” just so she can knock him around a bit. She sees the potential in him, how powerful he could become, and how he’s better than any of them ever were. However this is also the reason she doen’t go easy on him. Despite all this she has a soft spot for MK, when she’s not messing with him, she’s always telling him cool stories of her and Wukong’s old days, that didn’t make it into the legends. She also always makes sure to tell the embarassing bits about Wukong.

Macaque: Her relationship with Macaque is… complicated and a massive WIP to put it simply, so this one will be super brief.

After they captured him, Xingti basically became his de facto prison warden. She constantly followed him around and just kept an eye on him in general. Because of this she soon became super intrigued by him, not only beause he was the second Spiritual Monkey she ever met, but mostly because she felt as if they were on a common wavelength. After Macaque’s initial escape attempts, and various arguments with Wukong, she set out to try to understand him and his past. As time passed and Macaque actually warmed up to them they grew pretty close. As it turns out they have a similiar sense of humor, and both of their favourite hobbies is making Wukong miserable, she quickly grew a soft spot for Macaque and before she even realised it she had all but developed a crush on him. Macaque had soon noticed the obvious changes in her behaviour, and as he had been faking his redemption this whole time, he decided to take advantage of her feelings for him. He played along and peretended to fancy her as well, they have even developed sort of a romantic relationship, (this whole thing of course didn’t leave Macaque as unaffected as he liked to believe) and things were actually pretty good, until Macaque saw an opportunity to betray them and make it hurt. This of course left Xingti more than emotionally devastated, and she swore to make Macaque pay herself. This is pretty much what I have in mind so far, I'm sure I left out a lot, I'll add them later when I remember them! And hopefully I'll draw a ref of my other OC, Mandy, the 4th Spiritual Monkey soon as well!

Art by @mexcraziness-art

Liang Xingti and 4+1 Monkeys AU belongs to @mexcraziness-art

Monkie Kid belongs to Lego

#Monkie Kid #Monkie Kid OC #Monkie Kid AU #4+1 Monkeys AU #Liang Xingti

185 notes · View notes

the-creative-lounge-blog · 3 years ago

Text

Lounge Reopening

The Creative Lounge is ready to reopen its doors to new members! An invite link to join our Discord server will be posted this week.

Our server is open to writers and artists of transformative and original works that are 18+ and able to hang in a multifandom, multishipping community. Further info beneath the cut!

The Creative Lounge Server Rules:

Rule #1: Be Aware. This is a shared space. Individuals from all places and all walks of life congregate here. The sharing of personal information (name, location, etc.) is discouraged. Don't share personal images of anyone under 18

Rule #2: Be Respectful. Any disputes between members ought to be resolved privately. Disruptive behavior is not tolerated – no racism, sexism, hate speech, trolling, abuse, spam, picking fights, harassment, etc. Avoid discussing sensitive topics (examples: religion, politics). Try to keep the conversation relevant to the channel you are in. Direct and indirect threats towards any other person are strictly prohibited and will incur an instant ban. This is a multishipping community, so no ship-hating is allowed here. There are bigger problems in the world. Don't steal content, or ideas. Do not repost, or share anything found here without the permission of that content's creator. There are channels for sharing Tumblr/Twitter links; reblogging/retweeting from those links is encouraged. When sharing content by other artists/writers, that artist/writer must be credited in your post. Any NSFW, sensitive, or TW/CW/Squick content should be shared in the appropriate channels. No underage or incestuous content is allowed in any channel in this server. The use of spoilers ought to be employed for what could be considered “trigger warning” kind of content. If you don’t know how to apply spoilers to posts, please check the "about how-to and channel guide" channel for instructions.

Rule #3: Be Creative. This space was made so that content creators may meet and interact with each other and with fans. Use this space to discuss ideas, share tips, ask questions, promote your content, etc.

Rule #4: Be Kind. Reread rule #2 and keep to it. Remember to encourage and support one another. Visible support such as reblogging, commenting, giving kudos, etc., ought to be considered a part of belonging to this server.

What you can expect:

Rather than create roles for every genre and fandom, we've created 3 types of access roles, based on types of content/conversation (SFW, NSFW, and NSFW & TW). The Lounge is an ongoing social experiment. The intention of this server is to foster a sense of community for artists and writers of transformative works. Here, we offer support, encouragement, communication, assistance, challenges, and virtual hugs regardless of what fandom(s) in which you're active. After you've posted your intro and have gained access to the full server, you can expect to see a lot of channels. I repeat, a lot of channels. It's okay to feel overwhelmed, and we hope you take it as an opportunity to own your experience in the server. We respect all of our members' ability to tailor this server according to their preferences. So, please, take the time to browse through all that we offer and mute those channels with which you'd rather not engage. When you've been given access to the server, you'll find a guide that lists all the channels with brief descriptions and posting guidelines to help you while you explore the server.

#the creative lounge #artists and writers #transformative works #fan works #fanfiction #fanart

9 notes · View notes

liliesoftherain · 4 years ago

Text

My Hero Academia Main 3 Boys x Reader

Ch. 19 Endeavors Agency

A/N: Sorry for the long wait, but here's the next part of the series! I just realized I hit over 2000 followers, and I honestly don't deserve it at all. Thank you guys for your compassion and understanding, and I hope to generate more content you like. I might be willing to do an event, and turn my requests back for a short amount of time, but we'll see.

Masterlist

“Are you all ready for tomorrow? I still don’t know how I feel about you staying at Endeavor’s agency for the week.”

You hold in a sigh, choosing to smile instead--even if he couldn’t see you.

“Yeah dad, I’m all ready to go,” you knew of your dad’s--distaste--for the number two, even if he wouldn’t say it, “and I hope I’ll be able to learn a lot from this--although I know you’re probably the better teacher.”

He hums at your praise, you can hear his amusement over the phone.

“I’ll always have room for you at the office, just say the word.”

“I’m sure you’ll have your hands full with Bakugou, dad.”

“I hope to reform that boy, by the looks of him, he has pride sewn into the very fiber of his being.”

“Sounds about right-”

“Plus, he was getting a bit too cozy with my daughter, I have half the mind to question him about it.”

“Dad!” You elongate the word, turning it into a groan at the end as he just chuckles at your misery.

Moving on from the topic, you change the conversation to something lighter--mundane things about school and work before having to hang up the phone. He was unable to come home tonight, meaning you wouldn’t be seeing him until you got back. Unfortunately, you were used to calls instead of in-person goodnights--even if it was a bit lonely sometimes, you pushed on.

After ending the call, you get ready for bed--thoughts of the week ahead making it difficult to fall asleep.

-----

“Everyone has their costumes, right? You can’t wear them out in public unless you’re given permission--and don’t lose them either, understood?”

“Yep, loud and clear!”

“Speak properly Ashido, it’s yes sir. You all need to mind your manners.”

“Yes sir..”

You grin at Mina’s dejected face, only patting her back in comfort once you were dismissed. You wave goodbye to her as she heads to her station, looking back in search of your internship buddy.

After spotting him, you make your way over to his side to see his attention on Iida as he marches off.

“Todoroki?”

He turned to look at you, blinking owlishly as he snapped out of whatever thoughts he had been consumed by.

“Hakamata, hello.”

In some ways, you were looking forward to the internship. Ever since the sports festival, you’ve been able to regard Todoroki in a brand new light. He wasn’t as stuck up as you first took him for, if anything his reactions only made it seem that way.

The boy was just--awkward.

“Shall we get going then?”

He nodded in agreement, and you both leisurely walked towards your train. Sitting side-by-side after baording, suitcases in your laps respectively. The trip there was pretty quiet, and you were glad to say it wasn’t an awkward one. It was different, being so used to rambles from people like Mina and Izuku, or even loud and rowdy conversations with Eijiro or Bakugou. Yet with Todoroki, words weren’t needed to fill the air, it was comforting all on its own.

It didn’t take long to reach Tokyo, arriving at the station quicker than you thought. You both get off, having to walk the rest of the way to the large building. It was bigger than your father’s, and you felt slightly intimidated. Todoroki looked over as your steps faulted, tilting his head in silent communication. You give a tight smile, ushering your nerves down as you make your way inside.

“Hello!” The woman at the front desk beamed, “Endeavor has been waiting for you two, why don’t you go and head up to his office!”

She gave you the quick directions, waving you off as you stepped into the elevator. Todoroki had seemed tense now that he was actually about to see his dad, and you couldn’t blame him. Your last interaction with the man wasn’t the best, if anything you were downright rude.

All within reason, of course.

You arrive on the floor that his office was located on, stepping out of the elevator and having to walk through a room filled to the brim with sidekicks to get to the room. After receiving the okay to enter, you step inside to realize the entire part of the building was his office. The room was huge; marble walls with high ceilings, a crystal chandelier hung above a seating area and all the way towards the far wall, at a large oak desk, was the man who you’d have to put up with for the next week.

You heard a bitter sigh come from your companion, and you give a quick glance of reassurance in his direction. He does the same before you two make your way into the room. If you thought it was intimidating before, the scarce lighting made it even more so--the room relatively dim, save for the rays of the setting sun peeking in through the wall of windows on the right hand side.

“Shoto, I’ve been waiting for you.” A deep voice speaks up as you both stop to stand in front of his desk.

Endeavor is standing as well, smirking down at the both of you before focusing his attention on his son.

“I’m glad you made this decision. You’re finally ready to walk down the path of the mighty.”

“I have no intention of following any path you’ve created. Only I can decide my future.”

The surge of pride you feel as Todoroki stands up for himself falters as a chuckle falls from Endeavor.

“Is that so?” He glances between the both of you, “you both should go get ready then, we’re going out.”

“Where to?” Todoroki answers, looking surprised.

“I’m going to show you both what it means to be a hero.”

-----

The sun has long been set as the three of you patrol the streets of Tokyo, whispers following as you did. It was very different, the energy a complete contrast from what you’ve seen with your dad and his patrols. People called out to him all the time, big grins on their faces’ as they waved enthusiastically. However, the people around here looked intimidated by the large pro hero. In awe yes, but nervous to approach him at the same time. You couldn’t blame them, Endeavors aura was very nerve-wracking.

However, despite the feeling he gave off, things were calm. The peace surrounded everyone and everything around--laughter and smiles was seen all around. It was great; this is how life should be, no one should be fearful.

“Rescue, evacuation, and suppression. There are the three fundamentals required of all heroes. Most agencies are established on a foundation of either “rescue” or “suppression”. However, my agency does not. Remember that. We are grounded in all three of these fundamentals, combined.”

You and Todoroki nod, listening to Endeavor’s speech as he stomps on.

“You have to remain focused--memorize every single detail of your jurisdiction. Don’t let a single irregularity slip by. Be on-site faster than anyone else. Minimize all casualties by keeping all citizens far away as possible.”

He didn’t look back once--his focus never wavering, remaining on the crowds around him.

“These are the basics of the basics, do you understand?”

“Yes sir.” You answer.

“Yeah.” Todoroki spoke, as enthusiastic as ever.

“Then keep up.”

In the blink of an eye, Endeavor was gone. You blinked owlishly, sharing a look with Todoroki before you both rushed off after the number two. It was hard to keep up, the hero using his flames to accelerate his speed.

Todoroki was using his ice to help him, almost in the same way, while you used the move you picked up in the sports festival--allowing your light to harden under your feet, to extend and give you a boost. While you would be faster if you allowed your body to transform into light particles, you weren’t very efficient with it, you’d need some more training before you could try to use it in your day-to-day activities.

You finally heard the wailing of police sirens and the screeching of tires.

You were shocked Endeavor had noticed so far away, but you suppose that’s what it means to be the number two hero.

In a less populated area, down a mostly deserted road, there was a large truck being tailed by three different police vehicles, with no sign of stopping. The getaway truck was being reckless, swerving all over without a care of what--or who--it ran over.

Trying to boost your speed to get there quicker, you were left to stop short as the truck suddenly came to a screeching stop. Endeavor had stopped the truck with his own body, acting as an obstacle halting it from moving any further. You watched in awe as the criminals inside were apprehended accordingly, Endeavor having full control of the situation. While you weren’t able to do anything but watch--since you were only interns and didn’t have hero licenses to be able to use your quirks like that in public--you still took in every detail you could, exactly like Endeavor had told you to.

The way there were no casualties, or any injuries of the citizens for that matter, and even though there was damage to the area around him, it was insignificant to what could have been if they continued on for even just another few minutes. In the short amount of time it took for Endeavor to race over and stop the villains, so much had already been done.

‘A real pros power…’

“Let’s go. We aren’t done.”

-----

You awake bright and early the next day, feeling exhausted from how long you stayed out last night. The three of you ended patrolling for the next few hours without any other exciting things to happen. Endeavor tended to mainly ignore you, but he did ask about what your goal was overall--if anything you were shocked that he was speaking to you civilly.

You explained how you wanted to get the experience you needed to be a great hero, and do it on your own accord. How you wanted to use your quirk to the best of your ability and save lives. You weren’t here to play around, you wanted to do something good--you wanted to be useful. He gave you a simple speech of encouragement--if you could call it that--before dropping the subject as he ranted to Todoroki about all the great things he could learn from him.

It was a night to remember, and you did learn something pretty valuable, so you’d have to give him that.

You walk out into the main area--the one you had to walk through yesterday to get to Endeavor’s office--with your hero uniform already on, ready to see what was on the agenda for the day. The room was large, holding plenty of office desks and important equipment, as if Endeavor had his own intelligence force right in the middle of his agency. Seeing as how many cases the number two hero took on--as well as how many cases his plentiful amount of sidekicks took on--it wasn’t a surprise.

Glancing around, you couldn’t find Todoroki, instead coming face-to-face with one of the many sidekicks held in the agency.

“Hey there kiddo, welcome to the Endeavor Hero Agency!” The woman laughs boisterously.

Her copper-green hair flickered around her head, a cocky smirk on her lips, and a wicked gleam in her amber eyes all made you alert. She wasn’t a threat, but her attitude was the exact opposite of Endeavor’s.

Just a bit weird.

“Ah, yes, thank you.” You bow, only to be thrown off guard as she pats--more like slaps--your back repeatedly.

“Oh come on, don’t be so formal! I’m going to end up putting you to work right away, even if you’re going to have to fight for the right to work alongside us!” She cackles loudly, and you sweat drop as she reminds you of a certain pinkett back at school.

“Luminary.”

You push off Burnin and look towards Todoroki as he walks up beside you, also just as ready as you were to start the day.

“Shoto, good morning.”

It felt a little embarrassing at first, to be calling Todoroki by his first name, but you remembered it’s what he had chosen as his hero name. The entirety of the night before, only code names were used, so now it was second nature.

“Shoto-kun! I’d say the same for you, but you’ll probably be stuck with Endevor while miss Luminary here will have to kick it with us,” Burnin tries to slap you on the back again but you quickly dodge, causing her to grin to widen, “since, yanno, Endeavor really only cares about you!”

Todorki scoffs at the notion, even if it was true. He was eyeing Burnin as she continued to try and pester you. It’s odd, seeing you in a different setting outside of school. He noticed how quiet you’ve been, and while that wasn’t a bad thing, you were always pretty upbeat and talkative in school.

You kept up with Bakugou’s rambunctious actions, Midroiya’s rambles, Ashido’s exuberant personality, and even Kirishima’s upbeat attitude. However, ever since you both stepped onto the train to come to the agency, you’ve kept to yourself for the most part. You soaked up all the information you could, even if you were being a little wary of Endeavor.

Todoroki had indeed noticed, and he would be too in your position, shoot, he already was wary of his old man and all the ideas he had running around in his head. However, right now in this moment Todoroki saw the flicker of fire sparking again as you tried to keep the older sidekick from putting you into a headlock. It was good to see you as yourself, you always did know how to light up a room.

“Shoto.” The smile playing on the boy's lips fell as he heard his father.

You quickly detach yourself from Burnin’s hold, straightening up as Endevors approached. His hard gaze barely looked in your direction, focused on his son as always.

“Shoto,” he repeats, “We’ll be having an important mission today.”

Endoavor finally looks at you, the frown on his face stays in place--but it doesn’t get any deeper either.

“As for you Luminary, you shall be shadowing Burnin for the time being.”

“Yes sir!” Burning salutes the pro before shrugging an arm around your shoulder.

Todoroki glances at you from the corner of his eyes, and he sees how your shoulders fall ever-so-slightly. It was practically unnoticable, but he saw it. You were disappointed, the only reason Todoroki convinced you to come was because he knew that working with the man who had the speed and instincts of a number two pro hero was a great opportunity--even if his old man was a scumbag. He had to acknowledge his talents.

“I want Hakamata to come.”

The silence between the two was stifling, the heated glares acting as a silent conversation. You eyed Todoroki bewildered, confused as to why he was questioning Endeavor's decision. Sure, you were annoyed and somewhat disappointed, but you expected this. You were prepared to be treated as second best.

After all, people like them were always good at making people like you feel inferior.

“What?”

“I want Hakamata to be able to attend this mission with us.”

Endeavors eyes shut briefly, before doing the unexpected.

“If that’s what you want. Be ready, the both of you, we’re leaving soon,” he turns to the rest of the members in the room, “We’re taking a work trip to Hosu.”

“Yes sir!”

As Endeavor turns to leave, you smile brightly at Todoroki.

“Thanks Shoto.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” His head faces the floor, he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eyes.

“Let’s hurry then, we have a city to get to!”

“Right.”

-----

If anyone wants to be added to the taglist, or if I missed you, please send an ask and I’ll add you!!

TAGLIST(ANY BOLD-I CANNOT TAG YOU FRO WHATEVER REASON): @rizamendoza808 !(: @iris-suoh !(: @quicksilverfangirl !(: @shortperson202 !(: @noodlenerd101 !(: @matchamidoriya !(: @thorsbtch-captainnoobmaster69me !(: @pastel-prynce !(: @sunkissedneptune @monetfatalia !(: @legit-fandom-trash !(: @lovethewitchofendor !(: @dekuxlink !(: @water-melone98 !(: @helena-way07 !(: @nothing17-7 !(: @hopelessdisasterr !(: @karmaboundlife !(: @lunamoonmint !(: @ihatemyselftoinfinityandbeyond !(: @beew !(: @kaylees1414 !(: @axerrri !(: @icythotsenpai !(: @iwantapoptartqwq !(: @acehyacinth !(: @sspidermanss !(: @httpswwwtbhkcom !(: @omgthatonenerd06 !(: @mochicheeks-world !(: @gvthic-gvrl !(: @jinxed-egg !(: @themagical1sa !(: @cherriomilkmangos !(: @1-800-schmacked !(: @human-watching-ads-from-devildom !(: @sammyluvzz !(: @susceptible-but-siriusexual !(:

156 notes · View notes

a-square-minus-one · 3 years ago

Text

Honey 11

This chapter contains explicit content, please don’t read if you are under 18.

Fat droplets of water fall off the ends of her hair, onto her shoulders, trailing down the tops of her breasts to the edge of her towel. She grabs a smaller towel from the edge of her bed absently rubbing it into her scalp. Her towel, which was once held by her bicep pressed tightly against her torso, falls clumsily to the floor. She doesn’t question it in the safety of her own room, kicking the towel to the side. In fact welcomes it as she assesses her new scars.

She looks at the small scar she has on her cheek bone which is quickly fading only two days after their scramble against her brothers. Her eyes trail down to the sickly green patches on her arms- healing bruises from where Malchior had pinned her to the ground. Finally, her fingers land gently on the three wrinkled stripes on her side. Her chest brightens to a candy red as images of Garfield’s long, knobby fingers against her skin pop up in her mind’s eye. She lets her hand drop from the suddenly warm skin of her taut stomach. The muscles of her abs flex underneath her skin. She puts her hand around the edge of her mirror, suddenly out of breath. She shuts her eyes tightly.

What the hell am I thinking?

She screams when she opens her eyes and notices someone standing behind her.

“What the-Changeling? Are you out of your mind?” she asks, scrambling to pick up the towel at her feet. Her lips fall open when Garfield doesn’t flinch at his intrusion. He’s grown into the habit of tiptoeing around her. It hurts her a little more than she’d admit but then she remembers the number of times the sheer shock of this or that situation has caused her to inadvertently knock her teammates off of their feet and she isn’t too proud to admit that it’s a justifiable hesitance. Speaking of which, why haven’t her powers knocked out the lights? At least her body won’t be so exposed if her lamp wasn’t on.

Garfield’s face remains straight as he walks forward deliberately. She keeps fumbling with her towel but it keeps falling through her fingers like sand. She can’t keep her eyes off his in the mirror. In the low lighting of her bedroom they look black as they fix on her own eyes. Her breasts are completely bared and he hasn’t once looked down. She almost wants him to so she can escape his heavy gaze.

“Changeling?” she asks, but he doesn’t stop moving closer to her. She gets the towel around her just in time for him to press himself firmly against her back. She steps forward trying to put some space between them, parting her lips. He steps forward again, and she can feel the ridges of him through her towel. She gasps, her breath fogging the glass of her mirror.

“Gar-” her voice cuts off when Garfield places his hand over the knot she made to hold up her towel. He pauses, asking for permission. It’s the shock, she tells herself, that causes her to nod absently. He doesn’t rush to unravel the knot, opening her up like a gift, the edge of his hand brushing against her nipple as he removes the layer of fabric separating her bare ass from the fabric of his uniform. Her nipple hardens immediately at the contact. His eyes finally move down to watch the spectacle. She immediately realizes that this gaze isn’t any less intense. She tightens her thighs together.

She groans when his fingers touch the scars he left again, burning her skin even more intensely than they did before. Her forehead presses against the mirror; her breath fogging it up.

“What are you doing?” She attempts to protest but her ass is already rubbing against the hard ridges of his hips. She feels a hot tug at her core as Garfield moves his fingertips over the outermost edge of the last of the scars he left, the one closest to her belly button. And he doesn’t stop, moving his fingers over her belly button. Lower. Right above her mons pubis.

She groans, dropping her head against his shoulder. His lips enthusiastically meet the juncture where her shoulders meet her neck. She whimpers as one of his fingers dips between her labia.

“Azar...Garfield, what are we doing?” she mumbles, rubbing herself against his finger. The warmth in her stomach makes her toes curl. He pushes himself against her harder until her nipples are pressed against the cold glass of the mirror. The space between her thighs is wet and hot.

A feeling that doesn’t go away when she wakes up, alone, in the middle of her bed. She’s tangled up in her sweaty sheets and Cyborg’s oversized t-shirt. Her eyes open so widely that she’s afraid the skin at the corners of her eyeballs will split.

What in the world?

She runs a hand over her face, swollen from sleep and wet with drool.

What in the world?

She sits up in her bed.

There was no way she just dreamt that.

With Garfield?

Imposs-

Jacob.

She hurries out of bed.

Not even bothering to put on socks as she heads out of her room.

Ignoring the sticky feeling between her legs.

Jacob was fucking with her.

She knows it.

She has to get him out of this tower.

She reaches the doors of his cell, seconds from barging into the room.

She will do anything so that he doesn’t manipulate her teammates like he had just manipulated her. She doesn’t know where she will put him or how she will get him out but he has to leave. She will figure it out when she is in front of him.

“Raven!” Nightwing calls out, jogging towards her. Garfield is trailing after him, much less rushed. He looks over her body with crinkled eyebrows, probably surprised she hadn’t changed last night.

Damnit.

“We need to get them out of this tower, Nightwing. Now!”

Nightwing finally reaches her, wrapping his arms around his torso.

“And where do you propose we put them?” Nightwing asks. His patronizing tone causes the skin of her back to tighten. She steps towards him, shooting a glance at Garfield. She immediately averts her eyes to the ground, her face growing so hot it hurts. Looking at Garfield again through her lashes, Raven wishes he could be anywhere else right now.

Raven puts a hand on Nightwing’s arm, wedging herself between him and Garfield. Her current position, with her back to Garfield, is almost exactly like in her dream. Give or take a few inches, a few articles of clothes, and a Nightwing. Her face grows even hotter as she hopes that Garfield will get the hint and leave.

“They are playing with us from inside the tower,” she whispers through the sliver her lips make, feeling Garfield’s looming presence behind her. She looks back at him frantically. Nervously. Then looks back at Nightwing who leans closer to her.

“What did you say?” Nightwing asks. She feels like melting through the cracks in the ground.

“They’re playing with us from inside of the tower,” she hisses through her teeth, clenching her fists at her side.

“What do you mean they’re playing with us inside of the tower? How do you know?” Nightwing asks in a normal tone, his face crinkled with irritation like he had just tasted something sour. To Raven, he might as well be yelling. She resists the urge to look back at Garfield again.

“Azar,” Raven mumbles, placing a cool hand over her face that’s now sore with the intensity of her blush.

She can’t look back at him.

She can’t answer Nightwing’s question.

She can’t remove her hand out of fear that Nightwing will comment on how red she is.

He’s not going to let her in to remove her brothers.

And she still feels like she wants to melt through the ground.

So she does.

********************************************************************************

Garfield usually informs his teammates about most of his abilities. How long he can stay in certain forms. Which forms he can turn into. How many times he can transform in an hour. The team needs to know all of these things in order to come up with the best battle strategies.

In his teens his ability to smell the hormonal shift when the women in the Tower were on their monthly cycles was not something he felt he needed to share. In fact, he was sure that Raven would murder him in his sleep if he even brought it up.

He also did not feel the need to bring it up when, years later, he was able to smell when Starfire and Nightwing had just had sex. And he was sure as hell not going to bring up the fact that his nose could detect which of the pair had, to put it elegantly, reached.

No, he just kept his head down, chewing quietly on whatever meal was in front of him, reminding himself that sex was natural. Most animals mated in front of their animal friends so what did it matter if he knew when his friends had sex. It wasn’t like he could control it and he wasn’t about to tell his friends to stop and deny them their happiness.

When he sees Raven, still dressed in the shirt Cyborg had given her, looking frantic in front of her brothers’ cell, his confusion replaces the immediate panic he feels at seeing her so soon after laying his hands on the bare skin of her stomach.

Then he gets closer.

“They are playing with us from inside of the tower,” she whispers. Why whisper? He doesn’t understand. Did she forget that his hearing is sensitive enough to hear her anyways?

They’re playing with us from inside the tower? What?

He looks at the door of the cell in which they are keeping her brothers.

Her brothers are playing with us? How?

Then he smells it.

Sweet and musky.

He sucks his lips into his mouth.

Oh. Oh!

He looks up, suddenly entranced by the ceiling.

He should move.

Why isn’t he moving?

Don’t smell her. Don’t smell her, you creep.

He interlocks his fingers behind his back, closing his eyes.

“What the hell was that?” Nightwing asks.

Garfield opens his eyes. Raven is gone, he had missed the tail end of the conversation.

Her scent is still all around him though. Curling up around his nostrils.

Jesus Christ.

“No idea man,” Garfield says absently. Nightwing presses his lips together. He raises an eyebrow Garfield feels like he’s shrinking beneath his gaze.

“Okay,” Nightwing draws out. “I think it’s time you and I talk about this Beast situation.”

#bbrae

20 notes · View notes