#gonna try to love myself
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gonna have my hot girl summer where i embrace my body as it is and buy clothes that fit, not that i wanna fit into <33
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the rude blacksmith has enchanted me. also feeling so normal about this game that i did pixel art for the first time ever to try and draw my farmer in the game style
#fields of mistria#fom#fom farmer#march fom#fom march#march fields of mistria#fields of mistria fanart#IT WAS SO FUN TRYING TO MIMIC THE CHARACTER STYLE#ive been following fom development since JANUARY 2022#i signed up for email updates guys#im so happy its in ea now hehe#dev team ily its so fun im eagerly awaiting full release#im quite in love with literally all the romance candidates but im so obsessed with annoying march#that i dont think i can kid myself on who my first route is gonna be LOL#gives me an excuse to replay the game a bunch once its out :3#itseart
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(Unseen Academicals, Terry Pratchett) I think Shang Qinghua and Ponder Stibbons should have tea and compare notes about somehow accumulating so much behind-the-scenes power by doing menial jobs no one else wants that they could basically run the show if they wanted...
meanwhile we have Shen "meh good enough" Qingqiu
#svsss#shang qinghua#shen qingqiu#sqh#sqq#cumplane#discworld#my art#sqq 100% knows how to delegate meanwhile sqh is here trying to run a sect a demon kingdom and juggle a bunch of secret conspiracies#his little rodent heart is going to explode from stress at this rate no qi deviation necessary#i'm gonna need to draw sqh more i really don't know what i want his design to be yet but i like him a lot#if anyone has any sqh drawing prompts send them to me i need some ideas to play with (WITHOUT SPOILERS THOUGH I'M ONLY ON BOOK THREE)#i was scrolling back to see the last time i had drawn cartoony cursing to remind myself which shapes i like to use and wow#it looks like it's actually been a while??? it surprised me because i really love drawing them#i laugh any time i see them in a comic#anyway what are the odds i reread unseen academicals again before the month is through? highly underrate pratchett novel imho#variations of this quote is actually used a few times in the discworld series i think but this is the one that stands out to me#when stibbons reveals just how much power he actually has at the university#*chefs kiss*#the wizards are so dumb i love them so much
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a safe place to rest - duke
(part 3 of the harmless series)
Although he hears about the baby, Duke doesn't get to meet her for a few days.
He does meet someone else though: Danny.
"You need anything before I go?"
He doesn't want to leave Danny alone in the Hatch. Not out of mistrust or anything, but because he's sure that the moment he looks away, Danny's going to disappear again. It took so long just to convince him to take a moment to breathe, to rest and recover from whatever he's gone through.
There's a frantic sort of energy surrounding Danny that has his aura all messed up, which is the only reason Duke decided against letting anyone else know that he found Danny.
He got the basic rundown from the night shift, but he hadn't had time to look more into it before Danny was crashing into him during his day patrol, eyes wide and wild and looking like his world had just ended.
"You," Danny had gasped, "You're with—Batman? Please, take these." And he shoved a bag against Duke's chest.
He had to react fast to grab it, and then grab Danny when he all but collapsed against him.
Now, he sits on top of the spare bed Duke set up in the Hatch, pale and tired and quietly devastated. "I'm fine," he insists. "You don't need to do anything for me."
Duke frowns. "Uh, I absolutely do, you think I'm just gonna leave you to fend for yourself? Come on, man, that's not how I do things."
"You don't owe me anything."
"Obviously not. It's not about owing things. I'm doing this because you need help and I can give it."
"I can take care of myself," Danny says firmly, and Duke holds back a sigh. Yeah, this guy really is Batman's kid. Horrible self-care habits and all.
"You don't gotta, though. You get that, right? You can take one day off and just rely on me to take care of you until you're back on your feet."
"No."
Duke tries to shove his emotions down, to stay neutral and calm. This is a guy who came crashing into their lives, shoving a baby into Damian's arms, and then vanishing. This is a guy who's gone through way too much on his own. Of course he's not going to trust anyone. Duke knows well how heavy everything becomes when it feels like the world's against him. He can give Danny grace.
"Okay. Just so you know, I'm asking to be polite. I'm still going to grab some extra clothes for you, and a homemade meal, so you just stay here and get some sleep. We'll talk more when I get back from delivering all this to Batman." He lifts the bag Danny gave to him for emphasis, then pins the guy down with a hard stare. "You better be here when I get back, or I am going to have no one to show baby pictures to."
"…You're gonna check on Ellie?"
The clear concern and desperation in Danny's expression make him soften. "Yeah, man. I'll check on her and let you know how she's doing. That's why you gotta be here when I get back. Got it?"
Danny bites his lip, then nods slowly. "Yeah. Got it. Thank you."
"Get some sleep."
Duke pulls the door shut, setting the alarm system to quietly alert him if anyone goes in or out while he's not in the Hatch. There's a first aid kit on the table and some water bottles as well, but it's not going to be enough to really help Danny start to recover. Duke takes a moment to curse his past self for not better stocking his crash room for emergency visitors, but in his defense, he isn't in the habit of bringing anyone back to the Hatch, not even other Bats, when the Batcave is more suited for handling lots of people.
Well, it's something to work on in the future.
He doesn't get more than a few steps away when he hears the door opening behind him and looks back to see Danny poking his head out.
"Hey, before you go…"
"Yeah? What's up?"
"Can you maybe not tell anyone I'm here? I'm assuming you know who I am, since you know Ellie."
"Yeah, your Batman's first lost kid, right? Trust me, I've heard of you."
Danny winces. "Great. Figures. I just really need to not deal with all of them right now, so if you could keep all this quiet…"
Duke looks him over, takes in the paleness of his skin, how worryingly thin he is, the dark half-moons stamped under his eyes, and promptly decides then and there that the rest of the world is going to have to go through him to even think about going near Danny. It's a complicated situation he's in and if he needs time to prepare himself for meeting everyone else, who Duke knows from personal experience can be a lot, then Duke is going to make sure he has all the time he needs.
"You got it man. They won't hear a thing about this from me. I'll lock everyone else out of here, too, so you can rest easy. They ain't getting in here to bother you while I'm still around."
"Thank you," Danny says again, sagging against the doorframe. "I'm… I really need to sleep."
"Go crash," Duke says softly. "I can take care of things until you wake up."
Bruce is the only person in the Batcave when Duke arrives. He's bent over the Batcomputer, head in his hands, when Duke parks his motorcycle and heads for the stairs to meet him on the upper level. He keeps his footsteps purposefully loud so Bruce can track him as he makes his way over, Danny's bag slung over his shoulder.
"Rough night?" he asks, just to get the conversation started.
"Yes," Bruce sighs. "There have been a number of—changes."
"Oh. Good changes or bad changes?"
Bruce lifts his head as he considers the question, then rubs his temple. "Unclear. It's nice to see everyone working together for Ellie, but I'm—concerned."
"About what?"
"About Ellie. And everyone. And Danny."
Duke leans his weight against the desk and lets the bag drop off his shoulder, then holds it out to Bruce. "Well. I dunno if this will make things any better, but Danny threw this at me while I was on patrol. I took a quick look through it and, uh. It's kinda rough. It's what he went through and how Ellie was created."
Bruce snatches the bag from his hand and immediately begins rooting through it. "Is Danny—?"
"He vanished as soon as I grabbed the bag. I think he's got a few loose ends to tie up before he feels comfortable being here again."
"What did you think of him?"
Duke looks at Bruce, looks at the papers in his hands, and thinks of Danny. "I think he needs someone in his corner. I think we gotta lot to do to make the world safer for him and Ellie. I think he's been scared for a very long time."
Nothing in Bruce's expression changes, and there's no shift in his aura, his emotions tightly locked up as always. But Duke hasn't gotten this far without learning how to see the little things: Bruce's grip on the bag tightens, his feet shift farther apart, as though he's ready to leap up at a moment's notice, and his shoulders slump just slightly under the heavy weight of all the things he refuses to share.
Sighing, Duke tilts his head to look at Bruce more closely. "Why are you down here? It's the middle of the day."
"I'm researching."
A hand loosely gesturing to the large screen of the Batcomputer has Duke turning to see what Bruce has been so occupied with.
It's not case files, as he expected. It's not even research into Danny and what happened to him.
All that's there is PDFs upon PDFs of child psychology papers and essays on recovering from trauma and research on various methods to help children with failure to thrive and malnutrition and neglect.
There's also, in one window, different safety ratings of baby cribs.
Well. Let it be known that Bruce's love language is information.
"Cool. Have you spent any time with anyone since a baby got dropped in your lap?"
Bruce's silence is extremely telling.
Duke briefly considers trying to get Bruce to go upstairs, but he knows better than to pick a losing battle. Especially after he's handed him information on Danny.
At some point, Bruce will have to go upstairs, if only to eat. He's getting old, and his body can't quite keep going like it used to. Duke will let him deal with the consequences of his own actions, or lack of action, when that time comes. He's not a mediator or peace-keeper. Duke has other pressing matters to attend to.
Taking pictures of the baby for Danny is definitely more important than navigating the minefield of family tensions and miscommunications ever present with the Waynes.
Duke reaches out and claps a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Don't get so caught up in getting all the pieces together that you forget to actually spend time with family. They're gonna need you now more than ever," he says, and waits until Bruce meets his eyes and gives a resolute nod before Duke stands and heads for the stairs that will take up him to the manor.
The sooner he gets back to Danny, the better.
Ellie is cute.
This isn't a surprise. Most babies are cute, and Ellie is no exception.
What Duke hadn't been expecting is how protective Damian is of her, or how everyone else orbits around the two, just on the edge of hovering. Damian's prickly personality is well known, so the rest of the Waynes have taken to acting like cats: always on the same floor, ready to pop in should they be needed, but otherwise out of sight.
"Thomas," Damian greets quietly. Ellie is asleep in the baby wrap keeping her secure against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. Damian lowers his paintbrush, turning to give Duke his full attention.
Duke takes a hesitant step into Damian's studio, then walks up to him once he isn't hissed at to leave.
"So this is our newest troublemaker, huh?" he says, looking down at Ellie. "How's she doing?"
She's so small. Her head has some black hair on it, but it barely covers her ears.
Damian lays his brush down on the easel. "She's doing much better now that she's getting regular meals and care. She still doesn't make much noise. It is… concerning."
The raw fear and care in his gaze is what makes the words tumble out of Duke's mouth. "I have some news about Danny."
If anyone deserves to know about him, it's his little brother.
Damian's gaze snaps up to Dukes, a fierce light in them, and his hands raise to hold Ellie tightly. "What is it?"
"He gave me a bag while I was patrolling, then left. I looked through it before giving it to B, and it's all… I only read the papers, not anything on the flashdrives, but Danny went through some awful shit. He was captured and experimented on by some group called NOVA. They had him for some time doing tests before he was put in isolation for acting out. And then he kinda… went into a death-like stasis. They did more tests and took some bio-material from him to try to figure out how he was surviving in stasis, and used that to make Ellie with the genes of one of the other captured metas. Danny was in stasis for around seven years."
Reading about it, learning about what Danny went through made Duke's stomach turn. It was like something out of a nightmare. Duke knows the fears metas have to live with; he carries it too, a weight he can never put down.
There's a reason civilian metas try to keep their powers a secret. Metas go for a high price on the black market, are at a higher risk of human trafficking, are seen as the best test subjects by unethical scientists wanting to find some way to replicate those powers in other people or in weapons.
Summarizing the horrors Danny had to experience leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. The silence in the studio stretches long enough for Duke to regret opening his mouth. Damian's still a teenager. He may have had a different upbringing and be able to stomach what most people can't, but this is still his brother. Anyone would be rattled hearing about this.
Then, without a word, Damian stands. He storms out of the studio, leaving Duke to catch the stool he was sitting on before it hits the ground and wakes Ellie.
When he goes to catch up with Damian, the kid is already walking into another room, tension in every line of his body.
"Richard," he snaps quietly, and Duke watches as Dick pops up from where he was lounging on the floor on one of the softest rugs in the manor.
"Dami? What's wrong?"
Damian doesn't answer, just unwraps the baby sling and carefully passes a still sleeping Ellie over to Dick.
"Damian," Dick tries again, his voice hardening, demanding an answer even as he adjust Ellie in his arms to make sure she can continue sleeping comfortably.
"I need to speak with Father," Damian answers shortly. "I will be gone for some time. I am entrusting her to you."
Dick glances at Duke, who tries not to look too stressed or tense. He doesn't think it works.
Reaching out, Dick puts a hand on Damian's head, managing to ruffle his hair for a few seconds before Damian steps away, batting at his hand with a scowl. "Alright," Dick says, "But I'm sending someone to get you for dinner if you're not back by then."
Damian nods, then turns on his heel and leaves for Bruce's office.
Neither of them move until they're sure that Damian is out of earshot.
"What was that about?" Dick asks, lowering himself down onto the rug again, one hand rubbing small circles against Ellie's back.
Duke sighs. "You'll find out soon. Just... chill for now and let me get some cute baby pictures."
Dick, as he finds out, is actually pretty good at helping Duke get the cutest pictures of Ellie.
And when Ellie blinks her little blue eyes open, Duke's heart melts and he understands how she's got everyone wrapped around her fingers.
NOVA, whatever remains of them, is going to regret ever hurting Danny and Ellie.
Danny is asleep when Duke returns. He sleeps through the night, and when Duke wakes up early the next morning to make sure he hasn't disappeared, Danny remains motionless in his bed.
Is he in stasis again? Duke wonders, panicked, as he rushes into his crash room and gently shakes Danny, trying to wake him up.
It takes a few tries before Danny lets out a soft noise in the back of his throat. He turns his face into the pillow, then abruptly tenses up and shoots out of bed. In a blink, Danny's on the other side of the room, flying up to the ceiling where Duke can't easily reach him.
Hands up, palms open, Duke says, "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. How're you feeling?"
Danny sucks in a few deep breaths before he slowly floats down to the floor. His eyes are still too wide and there's a faint tremble in his hands. "Fine," he answers blankly.
"Up for eating something? I did promise you food and baby pictures."
Unsurprisingly, it's the mention of Ellie that gets Danny moving and brings some light back to his eyes. He follows Duke out into the main room of the Hatch. There's not really a kitchen in here, but there is a fridge and a microwave, which is enough for now.
One of his workstations has been cleared off and now has chairs around it to turn it into a makeshift dining table. On it, Duke's left a tupperware of French toast, made the way he remembers his dad making them when he was a kid, and as well as a store-bought container of cut fruit.
It's not really a lot, but it's what he could do on a short notice.
Danny takes a seat, and Duke settles in on the other side of the table, pulling out his phone to flip through the many pictures he took of Ellie.
Duke keeps up a light commentary as Danny slowly eats, sharing little stories about the Waynes and all the nonsense they get up to. That turns into sharing stories about the stupid shit he and his friends gets into, followed by some of the weirdest things criminals have done to try to get away from him, including the one that said 'nuh-uh!' when Duke said carjacking is the lamest crime to commit in Gotham.
That story gets Danny to smile, and it takes way too much effort to keep from celebrating it.
All the while, Danny slowly looks through each photo of Ellie, making sure she's okay. He looks so fond and sad that it's breaking Duke's heart, and he swears to himself then and there that he's going to do whatever he can to reunite them.
"Don't you have hero things to do?" Danny asks. It's the first thing he's said since they both sat down.
Duke shrugs. "Nah, not right now. Gotham can wait. You're my priority right now."
"You don't have to—"
"Nope. If you don't want anyone else to know you're here, then you're gonna have to deal with me."
Danny squints at him. "You're both very chill and very stubborn."
"It's the only way I was able to survive working with the other Bats."
"They sound… interesting."
"You can say they're a hot mess," Duke laughs. "But hey, who isn't?" He watches as Danny pushes around the last half of the French toast around the tupperware and straightens up from where he was leaning on the table. "Want me to put that up for you? You can finish it later."
Danny looks down at his plate, then slowly nods. "Yeah. Sorry."
"No worries. You went through some shit. It's not surprising that you don't have much of an appetite." Duke reaches over the table to pop the lid back on the tupperware, then stands to put it in the fridge.
When he turns back, Danny is no longer visible.
Or, at least, his physical body isn't visible. Duke can still easily see his aura, a vibrant green that has streaks of white moving through it like a current of water, which leaves an outline of his body. Danny is also trying to sneak out of the Hatch.
"Oh," he says, "I didn't know you had invisibility. That's pretty cool. I can still see you, by the way."
Danny becomes visible again, glaring at Duke.
"That's such a Batman move," Duke grins, "I should have expected it."
"What was a Batman move?"
"Sneaking away as soon as I turned around. B does that all the time with the Commish. And everyone else, honestly. Though, to be fair, we all do it because we all learned from him. Yeah, you'll have no trouble fitting in with us."
"I don't think what I'm doing should count, since I'm using powers."
"Dude, watch this."
Duke makes sure Danny's looking at him, then bends the light around him to hide him from view. He can see the exact moment Danny realizes he's vanished when his eyes go wide and he takes a few steps closer.
"Signal?"
"Still here," Duke reassures. "Haven't moved an inch." Then he releases his grip on the light around his head, a fun little trick he figured out a few years ago that makes it look like he's a floating, decapitated head. The goons always love that one.
Danny looks at his head. Looks at his invisible body. Then looks back to his head. "That is freaky," he says, a slow smile dawning across his face. "I can do that too."
And sure enough, Danny's body becomes invisible, save for the outline of it in his aura, and now there's just two floating heads in the Hatch.
He's not sure who cracks first, but in no time, they're laughing like everything's alright. Danny's expression brightens and suddenly he's years younger, all the stress falling off his shoulders in the face of their mirth. Like this, he could be any other guy in one of Duke's classes, talking nonsense just to pass the time, quick to laugh and without a care in the world.
This is what he wants for Danny.
This ease, this calm, this lightness in his heart: Duke will keep them safe for Danny.
If nothing else, Duke can be a safe place to land for another meta who needs, more than anything, someone willing to be there for him.
(masterpost for all parts)
#dc x dp#dp x dc#demon brothers#the harmless series#dcxdp#dpxdc#dcxdp fic#my writing#can u tell i love duke#didnt mean to make this ghostlights flavored but i cant help myself theyre just too good#slowly building in more things... NOVA and dannys powers and bat dynamics.....#there is MUCH more to come i promise#this little series is a challenge to write as many povs as possible#there will be some repeats but im gonna try to keep that only to danny and damian
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"Are you going to break my heart?"
Eddie almost drives them off the road.
It's late, nearly 2 am, and the country road is narrow and winding, and this thing between them, fingers twinned above the gear shift, radio turned down low, Stevie Nicks singing to them softly, is new. Eddie wants to live in this moment forever, wants the smell of lake water and dying August heat to live in their clothes, wants the warmth of first kisses and whispered confessions to last in tingling sparks in their skin, the memory of touch to be permanent. It won't be, it'll all fade, but Eddie can visit it again, rewrite them into the cotton and the softness of Steve's mouth.
It's late, and this is new.
"It's okay if you do," Steve says, so quiet. He's holding on to Eddie's hand like he's dangling off a cliff. "I can handle it. I'd just like a heads up, so I can prepare."
Eddie almost feels guilty, basking in his joy when Steve was sinking into something else. He thinks, if he were a kid still, if he hadn't died, hadn't lost everything and managed to get it all back, he'd be angry. But he's not. He's not, and he did, and it's late and this is new—but it's not unfamiliar. The same, but more, an extra free scoop with whipped cream and sprinkles, a cherry on top.
"You trust me?" Eddie asks. He rubs his thumb along Steve's knuckles, feels the scars under his skin, little tears in someone so perfect.
"Of course," Steve croaks. Eddie can't look at him, because the road is dark and narrow and winding, and he has to get his boy home safe.
"And I trust you," Eddie says, brings Steve's hand up, presses a kiss like a seal to his skin. "And I love you, and you love me. I got you."
Steve's quiet for a long, long moment. Eddie can tell he's watching him, so he presses another kiss to Steve's hand, lets his lips linger on hard tendons and dark veins. Kisses in his promises to the place they're linked together.
When he speaks again, it's soft, and Eddie can hear the love, living and leaving in the air between Steve's teeth.
"Okay," he says, giving Eddie everything. "You got me."
#steddie#i was reading a wip fic from an author i love that looks like MCD but wasn't tagged MCD which is fine bcs of the set up#and i was trying to figure out if they were gonna hurt me too much or not#to prepare myself#so was leaving a comment to ask#and then i do what i always do and project my entire self on to steve harrington LMAO#anyways kisses love you mwah mwah mwah#my steddies
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Stuck in the middle of a forest made of
Flesh and bones and they're all scared of
A lost little boy who has lost his heart
Fear's not enough, they have to
Tear him apart —-------
There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well:
He’s adopted.
He can’t remember anything else before that.
‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents.
What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill.
When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.
(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.)
The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.
It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one.
The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself.
His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.
(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.)
(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.)
They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.
(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)
Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe.
He turned back around and went inside.
—-------
Where do we go
When the river's running slow
Where do we run
When the cats kill one by one
—------
One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.
He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal.
It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking.
He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter.
Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind.
(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)
After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous.
He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.
—------
Hazel beneath our claws
While we wait for cerulean to cry
Unsettled ticks run through time
Enough for the hunt to go awry
—-----
There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own.
He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t.
Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward.
(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”)
(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)
He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell.
A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his.
He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it.
His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.
Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.
—-------
Harpy hare
Where have you buried all your children?
Tell me so I say
—-------
When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now.
Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.
He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.
Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own.
(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)
(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)
(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)
—--------------
It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders
And they will never
Hear me here listen to croons and a calling
I'll tell them all the
Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow
Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare
—-------
More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother.
Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten.
His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands.
They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely.
It is a fast dream.
His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.
His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods.
The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him.
The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal.
His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train.
(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.)
—---
She can't keep them all safe
They will die and be afraid
Mother, tell me so I say
(Mother, tell me so I say)
—-------
When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again.
The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person.
(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.)
(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)
Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird.
(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)
—------
Seeker, do you ever come to wonder
If what you're looking for is within where you hold
Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path
You'll soon forget
Home
—---------
When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is.
When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.
‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off.
He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.
He ends up calling himself Phantom.
(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.)
----------
Home is where we are
Home is where you are
Home is where I am
-----------------
Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#danyal al ghul au#amnesiac danyal al ghul au#songs in order of the album: the hartebeest / harpy hare / and the hound / neath the grove is a heart#musician danny has my heart and soul#yes this danyal IS an alternative danny from the other au. an au where things were a little better :) but still sucks#implied good mom talia al ghul#danyal is a momma's boy send tweet#dpxdc ficlet#dpxdc prompts#dp x dc au#dp x dc fanfic#danyal is sTILL five years older than damian in this au#no beta no edits we die like danny fenton#poc danny fentons#i didnt know where to end this :(( i was gonna go on but i blanked. i thought about going into his relationships with his rogues and so on.#but that felt too much like trying to just increase the word count rather than actually writing?? if that makes sense#ugh im gonna have forgotten to include things and im gonna be kicking myself later#morally ambiguous danny whoo! we love to see it#since this was just for fun it doesnt really go into it all that much other than like. it happens. and that danny realizes he's dangerous#phantom in a hazmat suit? nah phantom looking like an assassin >:].#danyal al ghul with damian and his mom: 🥰🌸✨#danyal al ghul with everyone else: 👹🔪#am i heavily implying that clockwork had smth to do with Danyal’s amnesia and appearance by the cabin? 👀 maybe#not enough danyal al ghul aus where him being an assassin actually. has some kind of affect on him
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RATS // RITE HERE RITE NOW
#the band ghost#papa emeritus iv#rite here rite now#copia#flashing#ngl i'm having a slight gifmaking confidence crisis and wasn't gonna post these but i'm trying to not be a dick to myself so here they are!#closed eyes and ✨ eye contact ✨ because you deserve it <3#i just love him very much#my gifs
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Chat have we discussed drunk chess with cherik cause i just think. That would be the darnedest silliest thing they could do
#xmen#xmen first class#xmen dofp#cherik#charles xavier#erik lehnsherr#snap chats#sorry still thinking about dofp and i reminded myself of the plane scene#the idea of drunk chess sounds so stupid fun i wish i could play drunk chess#‘snap how do you play drunk chess’ simple !!!! every piece you lose you take a shot#anyway i think itd be silly …….#id like to do something with that idea but i still have to decide on execution#omg xmen fandom hasnt seen my twelve million ‘i wanna draw this so bad’ tags yet#but yeah i sy tht a lot </3 so many things i wanna draw all the time#either that or write …. but i draw more#i love comic makin. and i blame these damned comics for gettin me into it what tha hell !!!#ok im done rambling i wish i had more to say but i dont#i lied i do. this doesnt have to be after erik apologizes on the plane this could be lit any damn time they play#i just live for the progression of them Trying to play semi seriously for a solid twenty minutes before they lose it#and now they wont stop giggling and being stupid asses#theyre still trying to play but ‘trying’ is doing a lot of heavy lifting#imagine it with me chat … itd be so beautiful i could cry frankly#ok my classes are done for today im gonna sit in my room and think of cherik#maybe ill TRY to draw this … if not then def somethin at least
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snf sob... his favorite regular... wailing in the club rn
#ive never drawn a sheet before. much less a sheet covered caterpillar! it shows!#MANNNN THESE TWO AUGH#thank you halloween record for the crumbs. im sated <3#the fact that he Barged past sally gave me the image of him lightly tackling barnaby#bro had to pick up some Speed his legs were Goin#at some point i may clean up the og base sketch and make a non-halloween-costume version#because! your honor! i love them!#scribble garnish#laughingstock#barnaby x howdy#howdy x barnaby#welcome home#i was gonna try to make it more ~ambiguous~ and non shippy and then my hand slipped and they're both blushing now oops#i tell myself 'be normal about them' and i Fail Miserably
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Bucky Barnes // The Winter Soldier Captain America: Civil War (2016)
the way he looks at steve (part 1, part 2, part 3)
(steve vers.)
#dailymarvelgifs#dailymarveledits#buckybarnesedit#bucky barnes#captain america#captain america: civil war#cacw#my gifs#sebastian stan#me: trying to make these gifs#the three lines on sebastian stans forehead: 👁️👁️#in case you dont remember the bottom left one is when steve and tony are watching footage of bucky killing tonys family <3#we love the drama we love the heartbreak we love the terrible fear in buckys eyes#worried about tonys reaction but no doubt worried about steves as well#if the footage is gonna make steve feel or think about him differently#we love it we love to see it#i will come back to these later when i need to#for reasons#anyways im posting these at a weird time and all of these moments have been giffed to death already#but i had to do it myself. i had to spend several hours staring at these men being vaguely gay in each others direction#to Heal. you know how it is
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this is how it continued
———
This is how it ends.
———
This is how it ends.
———
This is how it ends.
———
This is how it ends.
———
Lance tries for weeks to make it end.
The words crawl up like bile in the back of his throat. Keith, he tries to say, time and time again, we need to talk. And when he manages to push through the stinging burn and say them, breath turning to dust in his lungs, Keith crooks his finger under Lance’s chin and meets Lance’s eyes and replies, just as quietly, Of course, sweetheart. What’s wrong?
And every time Lance is faced with the softness in his dark eyes, the steady way he holds his gaze. And every time something inside him cracks, desperate and howling and selfish after being deprived so long, and his bravery dries up like a tiny stream in the summer heat. And instead of saying When did you start loving me, Keith, ‘cause you woke up one day and decided we’d been together for ages and everyone thinks you’re crazy his chin trembles and his eyes burn and he cries, again, and tells Keith of the months without him.
Every day I’m sorry I left you behind, Keith whispers into the heat of Lance’s skin, and every time in response Lance knows, I do not deserve this from you. And the desperate howling selfish part of him grows stronger and stronger.
Lance needs to make it end.
———
He cannot make it end publicly.
It’s too…messy for that. It has been too long now. He hasn’t counted the days but he knows what it looks like right before Keith screams himself awake, now, knows how to press his cold hands to the side of his neck and the curve of his ribs to startle his dream-self into thinking kinder thoughts. He knows how the chip on Keith’s right front tooth feels on his tongue, his knuckles, his shoulder. He knows that Keith showers with his eyes shut out of years of habit of showering in the dark and fearing the sting of the soap.
Rarely do they stop at a hotel. Usually they sleep in shifts, staying in space for days at a time instead of resting every night. It’s horrible and cramped and makes everyone cranky, but it brings them home faster. After everyone is fed up of air travel, which never takes long, they often stop somewhere small and uninhabited and out of the way – a moon, a burgeoning planet, a long-abandoned one. Whatever is closest. On those nights, the nine of them, plus the animals, will stretch and enjoy the fresh air, if there is any, maybe watch a setting sun. And then they will make a fire and cook rations or a real meal, if they can find ingredients and Hunk or Lance have the energy. And after everyone has eaten and conversations have long begun to slow, after teeth have been brushed and faces have been washed, after their friends have nodded off one by one, Keith will push their bedrolls together to make one, spread a blanket over the two of them, and hold Lance close; without question, without hesitation. And he will be out in moments, gently snoring along to whatever alien crickets are crooning into the night, and Lance will trace the shape of his face under the light of the dying embers and forget to be guilty. He will feel safe in Keith’s hold like he does not feel anywhere else and his feet will be warmed between Keith’s thighs. He will fall asleep with a smile on his face.
———
Five months into their journey, Coran says: “I have an announcement to make.”
“What’s up?” Pidge asks, swinging her feet from where she sits sideways in her chair, hair a mess, face buried in the not-quite-DS they found a few planets back. Lance smiles and rolls his eyes.
“In the next quintaint, we will be approaching Deruyn. The Deruy were close friends of the Alteans, eons ago, and the Chancellor has extended to me an invitation to reacquaint ourselves. If you’re all amenable, my dears, we have been invited to stay in the guest wing of her royal quarters for a week.”
Lance straightens up, rubber band ball he was toying with slipping from his grasp. He hears it bounce several times behind him before an abrupt stop, and then a very angry moo. He winces.
“Sorry, Kaltenecker.”
She huffs, clearly still miffed.
Everyone is talking over each other, eyes bright and excited through their video connections. Coran looks pleased, watching them all chatter. Lance catches his eye and smiles at him.
A whole week in a royal wing…and a real royal wing! Nothing like the paladin quarters they lived in on the Castle. They bedrooms will be huge, probably; fancy and ornate. Maybe a canopy bed and pillows comfier than Lance can even fathom.
And baths. Lance hopes there are big, deep baths he can almost swim in.
“You look dreamy.”
Keith’s amused voice startles him out of his daydreaming, although he can’t bring himself to be embarrassed. Everyone else is still chattering on, bubbling with excitement — no one is looking at him.
“I am,” Lance admits. He puts a hand to his forehead and sighs, more dramatically than necessary, pleased when it brings the expected reaction of Keith’s fond little smile. “There might be baths, Keith. Real baths. And oils and soaps and soft towels. And pillows! And a queen-sized bed!”
Keith’s smile turns teasing. “What you need is an Alaskan king.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Keith’s laugh has gotten rumblier since his space whale growth spurt, that’s the only way Lance can explain it. It’s softer and darker and suggests smile lines around his eyes he didn’t have before. Every time Lance looks at them he imagines them getting deeper and wider.
“Been a while since we’ve been somewhere with a real bed, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Gotta make sure they don’t book us two separate rooms again,” Keith huffs, crease appearing between his eyebrows. “I still don’t know what that was about.”
Lance’s mouth goes dry.
I do, he should be saying. I know exactly why there were two separate rooms booked for us. In fact I can guarantee it will happen again.
But he is a coward. And the words die somewhere in his belly, before they can come anywhere near his throat.
———
It takes time to reach Deruyn. Some of this is because Shiro read the map backwards and set them back two days. (“I’m dyslexic!” he had defended, to their booing and whining. “There is not booing and whining to dyslexia! Do you boo and whine a lisp? No! Let me live!”)
By the time they finally manage to drag their poor, exhausted Lions to the sizeable planet, everyone’s excitement is so palpable Lance doesn’t need an emotional bond to feel it.
“Fresh air,” sighs Allura.
“Good food,” seconds Hunk.
“People to talk to that aren’t you fools,” agrees Pidge.
“A mattress,” Keith adds, and shoots Lance a wink.
Despite himself and rolling mess of feeling in his stomach, Lance flushes.
Coran accepts a call as soon as they’re within radio range, greeting a narrow-faced, pink-skinned woman who must be the Chancellor. Immediately they delve into a conversation that Lance doesn’t even pretend to follow. He recognizes Coran’s tone from the many times his mother would strike up a conversation with an aunt or uncle or any guest at all as they were leaving the house — this conversation could be hours long. His eyes glaze over, sliding away from his Lion’s display to take in the planet in front of him.
Deluyn is large, that much is obvious. It’s hard to scale something with such magnitude when it’s so close to your face, but if Lance had to guess, he would place it somewhere between Jupiter and the Balmera. It has no rings but the whole planet seems to glow, slightly, although Lance can see no clear source for it. The colours visible from orbit are entirely alien to him, so he’s not sure what is water, if anything is, but from the angry look of the planet’s poles, the dark green things are clouds.
What feels like a million hours later, but it probably only around fifteen minutes, there’s a click as the Chancellor and Coran end their call, and they are urged forward into landing. As they get closer to the landing strip, Lance notices dozens of children sprinting along the barrier, holding signs and flags and cheering. He grins, twisting his hands tighter around Red’s controls, hanging back just slightly from formation to give himself space to move. Then he yanks the controls to the side, feeling Red roar as she whips around in a tight circle, flames rolling down her back. The children jump up and down, fists raised, mouths open in shouts of joy. Several of their grownups watch with wide grins, too, necks craned to watch Lance spin around.
He pulls back into formation after a couple of tricks, sliding smoothly in between Black and Blue. His heart rate ticks up, and suddenly his undersuit feels tight, itchy. He squirms in his seat. When Shiro’s face pops up to relay landing instructions he flinches, and immediately hates himself for the hurt look that eclipses his friend’s face.
“…Lance?” Shiro asks softly, confusion lining his voice. He looks like a kicked puppy. Lance is a monster.
“I’m just jumpy, I’m just jumpy,” he assures, forcing a smile and holding it there until Shiro’s shoulders relax. “You know. So excited to see where we’ll be staying.”
“Yeah, me too! Coran even said they have this massive sauna they’re really famous for. I can’t wait. I miss what saunas do for my skin. And, plus, having our own rooms will be nice.” His excited grin turns sly. “Well, most of us will have our own room.”
Lance’s heart pounds for a totally different reason. “Okay thanks Shiro bye —”
He reaches to cut the connection but Shiro stops him, laughing.
“No, no, wait, I’ve got landing instructions. Their staff is limited so we gotta go one at a time, okay, stay in your Lion once you’re parked in case you need to adjust…”
Thankfully it’s nothing too complicated. Keith lands first, and Lance next to him, then Pidge, then Allura, then Hunk. Once they’re all parked and confirmed by ground control, they’re cleared it exit, none of them taking their time.
Well, everyone else disembarks pretty fast. Kaltenecker remains and stubborn pain in the ass as usual, and Lance is stuck trying desperately to drag an 800 something pound cow that has absolutely no desire to work with him. “Kallie,” he begs, tugging uselessly on her leash, “you dumb ass fucking animal. Please. I am begging you. I put up with your farts in the cabin for days on end, which has got to be shaving years off my life. The food I feed you could be better but in all fairness, I’m getting the same slop you are, so. Maybe cut me some slack.”
She doesn’t even moo at him.
Lance tries bribery.
“Say, you want good food? I bet they have good food on this planet. Nice, sweet, fresh grass. You love grass. You want grass? Please come on, Kallie. Everyone else has already left and I’m going to die of embarrassment if I’m the last paladin left, doing the walk of shame with his stubborn cow behind him. The jokes will write themselves. I’ll have to quit and join a travelling circus, and then who will put up with you? Remember that Allura wants to turn you into hamburgers.”
Clearly hamburgers were the wrong thing to mention, because if cows can glare, Kaltenecker does. She even has the audacity to huff her cow breath at him and drag them both further into Red. Red, who is a traitor, does absolutely nothing to help and is in fact laughing herself sick, loudly, in Lance’s mind.
“I shoulda left you in that damn mall,” Lance grumbles, not meaning it. He sighs and collapses against his cow’s side, closing his eyes. Just his luck. The rest of his friends are gallivanting about a fancy-dancy castle as guests of honour, and Lance is babysitting a methane machine. “I’m gonna have to sleep here tonight, aren’t I.”
“Well, I hope not.”
Lance yelps, jumping to his feet. Unfortunately, in his haste, his boot hooks around Kaltenecker’s hoof, and since she is still unmoving, he goes sprawling. Fortunately, Keith got stranded in a space whale for two years and took Prince Charming classes, or something, so he catches him.
“You’re such a nervous wreck,” Keith says fondly, leaning down to kiss him instead of letting Lance stand like a normal person. (Not. That Lance. Is necessarily complaining. But for prosperity’s sake, and everything, keeping a man in a dip for too long is just undignified, Keith, you should know that, you graduated top of your class from Fairytale University. So. Pull yourself together.)
“Am not,” Lance protests. He sighs as Keith adjusts his hold on him, patting around blindly until he finds the edge of Keith’s braid and undoing it. He slides his hands in that thick hair with a relish as soon as it’s free, making Keith chuckle (but, wisely, not say anything, because the one and only time he commented Lance avoided him for two days out of pure embarrassment).
“I sent the rest of the team on when you didn’t come out. Figured Kaltenecker was giving you trouble.” He meets Lance’s eyes and grins, dark eyes mischievous and sparkling, and Lance is seriously going to walk off a bridge because who authorized that, who, who approved the combination of big dark eyes and a crooked grin and a face that promises trouble. Huh? The fuck’s up with that. “Figured I could help.”
Lance manages to find a shred of dignity within himself and steps slightly away. “That’s great, Noble Kent, but last I checked you couldn’t drag an 800 pound heifer either, so.”
Keith nods. “‘Course not. Brought Kosmo. Here, boy.”
The wolf poofs to existence at Keith’s side, barking excitedly. He bounds up to Lance first, expecting his usual barrage of kisses and head scratches (which he gets), then gets all shy as he walks over to his crush. Kaltenecker looks over at him and no lie rolls her eyes, looking away again. Kosmo, however, is undeterred, barking happily before blipping them both out of existence.
“She is never gonna love you, dude,” Keith says, shaking his head.
Lance snorts, taking Keith’s offered hand and heading down Red’s ramp (finally). “Wouldn’t it be weirder if she did? I think we’d have to break them up. Like, ethically.”
“Could be a Donkey and Dragon situation.”
“Shut up. It ruins my perception of you every time I’m reminded you’ve seen Shrek.”
“You’re perception of me,” Keith repeats, musing. His right eyebrow twitches, and it’s too small to see at arm’s distance, but Lance knows a tiny scar ripples there, from when he was fourteen and got it pierced in defiance of Shiro. “What is your perception of me?”
Lance keeps himself steady. He puts one foot in front of the other and keeps his left hand held in Keith’s. There is nothing interrogating in Keith’s tone, he reminds himself, although maybe there should be. When he looks up Keith’s eyes are open and curious and something else he doesn’t know how to name.
“You’re honest,” he says quietly. He means to say more, has a list he could probably recite bullet by bullet, but he doesn’t.
“Honest,” Keith mutters to himself. “Huh.”
Lance swallows. He doesn’t know how he could possibly explain the weight to that. Keith is committed and brave and talented and beautiful. But more than that he is truthful. Does he see? Does he know?
An empty landing pad passes remarkably slowly when two people walk in silence. There are crafts of all kinds and tarmac upon tarmac. Eventually, though, they start walking somewhere a little more crowded; thin, reedy people resembling the Chancellor waving to them as they pass. Lance would stop to ask for directions, but the giant castle is kind of hard to miss, so they just walk in the direction of it hope their armour will do the talking for them.
Keith catches a richly dyed ribbon blowing by as they pass through a crowded market, trapping the fine thing between his fingers as it passes between them. It’s a strange and familiar colour, walking the line between indigo and deep violet. He glances around for a stall that might be selling them, and when he can’t find one, he turns to Lance and says, “Hold out your arm.”
Lance does. Carefully, Keith unlatches his vambrace, tucking it under his arm, then peels up his undersuit to lay bare his wrist. His tongue sticks out of his mouth slightly in concentration as he ties it among Lance’s dozens of string bracelets, right above his blue Moana watch still counting the hours back home.
“There,” he says proudly. “Looks good on you.”
Lance reaches up and kisses him until neither of them can breathe.
———
They know they will be teased when they finally meet with their friends at the castle.
“Let’s not,” Keith suggests, nodding at the guards who move to let them past.
“I’ll find out where our room is?” Lance says.
Keith nods. “Yeah, we’ll need that.”
“‘Kay, wait here. Don’t be obvious, or Allura will smell drama and come running.”
He’s jinxed them by saying anything at all — no sooner do the words leave his lips does Keith tense up, screwing up his face in an attempt to appear neutral but resembling instead someone who is trying very hard not to sneeze. Lance manages not to laugh, squeezing his hand once before darting off, choosing a random corridor and going with it.
Thankfully, he manages to find a person who holds a clipboard and walks with a purpose, so he assumes they know what they’re doing. Double thankfully, they do, and not only direct him to their rooms but press a labeled map into his hands. It even has a schedule on the back for mealtimes and room cleaning, which is something Lance totally forgot existed. He runs back to Keith quickly, careful to avoid the kitchen and the armoury — places he’s sure his friends will be.
Keith is earnestly inspecting a mounted sword on the wall when Lance returns. His nose is maybe an inch from the polished blade, probably less, honestly. Lance bites his lip to hold down a snicker and takes a picture, intending blackmail, but it ends up being the perfect shot — his hair is slightly wavy from the braid he wore earlier, and there’s a cute scrunch to his nose, not to mention his squinted eyes like he’s wishing for reading glasses. It becomes Lance’s background almost without him meaning to.
“C’mon, nerd,” he calls, smiling as Keith startles. “I got a map and someone is gonna meet us there with a key. I wanna check it out, get a move on.”
Keith does indeed hurry over. “I’m so glad they got it right this time. One room! No need to debate over it.”
Lance falters. He’d been so caught up in the excitement of the room and then Kaltenecker and then…Keith, he forgot. They’re not what Keith thinks they are, what Lance has been pretended to be.
“Right,” he manages, mouth suddenly dry. He desperately tries to shove the enthusiasm back in his voice, forcing his face into a smile when Keith looks back. “Right, yeah, that’s so much less of a pain.”
There is indeed someone with a key when they get to the room. The door is light, in both colour and material, and although his feelings are still heavy and conflicting, his excitement wins out. Keith takes the key, thanking the attendant, and a small voice in the back of Lance’s mind whispers this could be them some day, on Earth, with a key of their own. He does his best to ignore it.
“Ready?” Keith asks.
“Please oh please let the bed be bigger than Red’s cabin,” he responds.
Keith snorts. Slowly, out of what must be a desire to torture Lance, he slides the key into the lock and turns it. Lance doesn’t hesitate before shoving it open.
“It is bigger than the cabin!” he shouts, and wastes no time running up and onto it.
He practically sinks into the mattress, so soft it’s like it’s made of hopes and dreams. The blankets are the fluffiest things he’s ever felt in his life. And the space — he stretches out as far as he can, fingers to toes, and not a single limb comes even close to the edge of the bed.
The mattress dips beside him, and a hand slides along the back of his neck.
“This is you before you notice the big canopy.”
Lance lifts his head immediately. He fights back a very undignified squeal when he does, indeed, see a gossamer blue canopy hanging softly from the high ceilings.
“And the windows too, sweetheart. Floor to ceiling, like you like ‘em.”
Lance scrambles to his knees to check. They are. And the view is breathtaking.
“And the bathtub? Is it huge and clawfooted?”
Keith ducks his head, smiling, and presses a lingering kiss to his cheek.
“I’ll go check, you grandma. You take your armour off.”
He listens for Keith’s footsteps, waits for them to go from carpet to tile, waits for the “Yep! Claw foot!”, waits for the sound of rushing taps even though he didn’t ask, even though Keith didn’t offer. He turns on his back and stares as the canopy, inspecting the padded wooden roof structure from which the gauzy curtains hang, tracing its sturdy edges and even corners.
Keith makes him feel so warm.
He’s felt a lot of cold, in a lot of places, for a lot of his life. Part of it is the stupid anaemia that he gets to live with. Part of it is stuff he doesn’t like to think about. But Keith comes in with his warm hands and warm smile and stupid big warm heart, and Lance is thawed in every frozen inch of him. It’s good. It’s so good.
He wants it so desperately.
He comes when Keith calls, stripping his armour along the way. Keith is waiting for him in the bath when he gets there — and it is huge, close enough for them to both sit comfortably without brushing so much as a toe against each other, but of course Lance settles his spine against the curve of Keith’s chest the second he slips inside the steaming water. The room smells of sandalwood and lilac.
“You are so important to me,” Keith murmurs, seemingly at random, pressing his lips along Lance’s stretched neck, following the arch of it as he tips his head back to rest on Keith’s shoulder.
Lance’s breath sighs out of him, rising and mixing with the steam. He lifts a shaking hand to twine it to Keith’s, squeezing. Their joined hands are wet against his chest. Together they rise, up and down, up and down, up and down, with every shaky breath.
———
They giggle like teenagers, sneaking into the kitchen well after dark and well after most of the castle has finally gone to bed.
Neither has wanted to face the team’s teasing just yet, or even the team at all, really. Their room can’t be called a room so much as a small apartment — bookshelves lining the wall that Keith had been eyeing for hours, a massive wardrobe, a beautiful velvet sofa, even a small icebox. Neither of them have said it but it feels, implicitly, like their own little space, their own little commune, beyond the privacy of a hotel room. It feels like somewhere they could live. They’re billions of miles away from Earth and anywhere Lance could consider home, but it’s nice to pretend, and neither of them is ready to hop back into reality — or Hunk’s roasting — quite yet.
(It is not what Lance’s mind is pretending. In no world could they ever live in a castle like this. It is foolish to spend his time fantasizing about a future they will probably never have, a home they will never build. The guards stationed at every door should break Lance’s fantasy. But he has always been very, very good at pretending.)
“Just grab some of everything,” he whispers to Keith. “We have actual room cleaning, remember? We can have some dirty dishes, no one will mind.”
“There’s certainly space for it,” Keith agrees.
In minutes the two of them have piled almost more than they can carry. They’re much slower on the walk back, but no less giddy. As soon as the door is locked shut behind them, they’re sat on the bed, even though eating on a bed is disgusting and usually Lance would never permit it, and stuffing their faces.
“Oh my God, this thing tastes like strawberries. Here, try.” Keith holds up a juicy looking silver fruit, Lance leans over to bite it. It does taste like strawberry. He dusts off his hands and crawls over to chase the taste off Keith’s tongue.
“Strawberries get you going?” Keith mumbles, and Lance grins and says, “Something like that.”
They have more food than they can possibly eat and they eat until they can barely move. The rest they wrap up and stick in the icebox.
He can feel Keith falling asleep, head getting heavier, so he pats him gently on the hip and whispers, “Come on, get up, at least get ready first. Wash your face.”
Keith groans. He squishes his face further into Lance’s belly, making him squirm and laugh, and mutters something he can barely here. “Hnnngh. You first. I’ll catch up.”
“You’ll fall asleep,” Lance scolds, but he gets up first anyway. When he glances behind him he sees that Keith has at least managed to put one foot on the ground, so maybe he really will get up and put some pyjamas on.
Lance snorts. Yeah, right.
He takes his time and pokes around the bathroom, having been too preoccupied to do so beforehand. There’s a stack of fluffy towels and cloths on a shelf, and even a couple rough ones for exfoliating. In a cupboard lies dozens of soaps and oils and creams and a million other things, labelled in that same holographic translator stuff the Olkarions use so Lance can read them easily. He is impressed by the wide range of selection — he’s been slowly rebuilding his skincare collection, and will indeed be looting at least half of these bottles to complete it. There’s enough stuff here to do a whole soak. Nice.
Then he turns towards the sink. And he stares.
And he starts to cry.
Laid out exactly as he likes it is his stuff from his pack. His toothbrush, his primary face wash, his hair brush, his lotion, everything. In order of how he uses it, with the sink in the middle, and everything an appropriate distance from the sink so he doesn’t soak the whole counter trying to reach for whatever comes next in his routine. A setup his has perfected over many years and has had genuine conniptions over misplaced steps and wrong orders. Something inane and stupid and that only matters to him.
Of course Keith has noticed, of course Keith has memorized, of course he has replicated.
Lance is a horrible, horrible person.
This is has to be how it ends.
“Keith!” he shouts, and the man comes in running, half groggy and robbing the sleep from his eyes. He’s in a t-shirt and boxers.
“Lance?”
“My brush is — in the wrong place.”
Keith inspects him carefully. “You’re crying.”
“Because the brush is in the wrong place! I keep it in the same spot, I like it here, you know I like it here, why is it —”
He interrupts himself with a great, heaving hiccup, so large it shakes his whole body, and he’s furious with himself, with his shaking hands, with the careful look on Keith’s face.
This is how it ends.
This is how it ends.
This is how it ends.
“This is not where my brush goes,” he insists again, desperate to keep his voice steady, desperate to make it angry.
“Okay,” Keith says simply. He walks over and pulls the brush gently from Lance’s hands. “Where do you want it?”
Lance tries to breathe in. His chest shakes and shudders, poking holes in his voice. This isn’t working. Why isn’t it working?
“No, you’re supposed to — I’m being unreasonable.”
“You’re upset about something.”
“Something stupid.”
“Okay. I’ll fix it. I can fix it.”
“No, you can’t — I’m not —”
The rest of his strength leaves him.
This is how it ends.
This is how it ends.
Why can’t he make it end.
Slowly, Keith reaches out to grab his hands. Lance lets him, like the coward he is.
“Come to bed, sweetheart. You’ve had a long day. You need to sleep.”
“Okay,” he whispers, defeated, squeezing his eyes shut. He keeps them shut as Keith guides him to the giant bed, as he pulls back the covers, as he crawls in and waits for the sound of the light switch to be flicked off, of the tiny creak of Keith’s weight as he joins him.
For a long moment Keith is quiet. Long enough that Lance would assume he’d fallen asleep, except that he still sits upright, except that his hand has slid under Lance’s shirt, and his thumb traces a line across the small of his back, over and over again.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he whispers.
A new tear slips hot down Lance’s face.
This is how it ends.
He knows, or at least he must suspect. Maybe he realized his mistake some time ago, and has been waiting for Lance to fess up, to explain why he went along with Keith’s mistaken affection in the first place. Why he used Keith, confused as he was, for his own selfish needs.
“I’m sorry,” he says hoarsely. He can’t bring himself to turn around, to sit up, to meet Keith’s eyes.
Keith’s hand doesn’t so much as twitch. “What for?”
“For leading you on.”
That certainly gives him pause.
“Leading me…on?”
“Yeah.” Lance sniffles, dragging himself upright and away from Keith’s affectionate hands, huddled against the massive headboard. “You came back…confused. I don’t know. You thought we were in love. I wanted it, so I let you. I’ve been manipulating you.”
“Lance…” Even only in the silvery blue moonlight streaming in from the windows, Keith’s face is unmistakable, obvious; strong brow creased in worry, head tilted in confusion, face pulled with something like desperation. “Lance, we are in love. Aren’t we? I love you. And you love me, I know you do.”
Lance shakes his head. His tears make his face crumple and he knows how ugly that makes him look, so he hides his face.
“No, I made you feel that way, I didn’t correct you back then and it’s habit now so…”
He trails off. Keith doesn’t respond. He wonders if he’ll stay the night, bed surely big enough for him to sleep without touching Lance at all, or if he’ll have to go get a new room.
A tiny, tiny part of Lance’s brain recognises the irony in that and wants him to laugh. But the steady breaking of his heart keeps it at bay.
“…Back at the tarmac,” Keith says what feels like hours later, startling Lance out of his skin. He looks up at the man with wide eyes, having half-convinced himself he was already gone, and Keith meets his gaze determinedly. “Back at the tarmac, you said I was honest. Did you mean that?”
Lance swallows.
“Yes.”
Keith holds his gaze, looking for something, then nods, having found it. “Believe me then, sweetheart.” He crawls forward, slowly, as if he is afraid Lance will startle away from him. That fear is what startles Lance out of his stupor, out of his guilt, out of the dread that has been building in his stomach for months. He hasn’t seen that kind of fear — the fear of getting too close — on Keith face since he came back. And never does he want to see it again. He throws himself into Keith’s arms, too hard, hard enough to hurt, but Keith catches him and holds him and squeezes just as painfully tightly. “I love you, star of my skies.”
“That’s cheesy as hell,” Lance croaks, and Keith laughs, wetly and beautifully. “I love you too.”
“Good.” Keith kisses the top of his head. “Good.” He exhales, long and shuddering; relieved. “God, I spent two years waiting for this exact moment.”
The statement strikes Lance as odd. “This exact moment.”
Keith tenses. Lance tenses, too, and immediately he relaxes again, breathing steadily until Lance matches him.
“On the space whale, time was…stretchy.”
“You mentioned.”
“Two years I lost.”
Lance tightens his hold. “I know.”
“Most of it was survival camping, really, but there were these visions, sometimes. For Krolia and me. Our pasts. You guys, in the present.” He takes a breath. “Our future.”
Somehow, Lance gets the feel he’s not talking about his and Krolia’s.
“Our future?”
Keith’s breath tickles his neck. Lance doesn’t dare move. Goosebumps pimple his skin and he lets them, shivering, warmed.
“Yes. So much, all the time. More than anything else we saw. Just — tiny snippets, here and there; your face when you sleep, your fingers on a bow, you dragging me on a surfboard and a million other places I woulda followed you to anyway.”
One of his hands slides down Lance’s ribs, fingertips light enough to make him shudder, and rests, cupped open at his hip. “I saw this,” he admits. “Not — the whole conversation, or why, but my hands on you, in this bed, in the moonlight. It kept me going.”
Lance closes his eyes and tries to imagine. Stuck in a strange place where days don’t seem to pass with a stranger who claims to be his mother, watching visions of himself in the future, over and over again.
“No wonder your head was all wonky.”
“Yeah.”
“You’d already been with me. For two years.”
“For twenty. Thirty. Seventy.”
“…That’s a long time, Keith.”
“God, I hope so.”
Lance smiles. “You gonna stick with me that long, hotshot?”
“Like glue, darlin’.”
Lance looks up and, sure enough, Keith’s eyes are closed, face slack. He’s clinging onto consciousness with every bit of strength in his body, things like keeping his accent in check losing priority. Lance settles again against him, guiding them gently so they lie comfortably against the pillows, and breathes out, slow and long.
“Tell me about our future.”
“House on th’beach,” Keith murmurs. His words are slow and pulled apart. “Stone’s throw from your mama’s.”
Lance traces sleepy circles on his skin.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Little boy with hair like yours followin’ every little thing you do.”
His breath hitches. He hadn’t thought about that — hadn’t let himself think about it. It’s dangerous, for more than one reason.
But tonight they’re safe. Under the silvery moonlight, with a bed three times bigger than they are, nothing can touch them.
“What about a little girl with your smile?”
“You got it.”
Lance’s smile is warm and giddy, tucked into Keith’s arm, etched there like it’s permanent. “Good. Goodnight, mi alma.”
“Night, baby.”
This is how it stays, forever and ever and always.
#if i came back from two straight years of watching myself fall and be in love with the same person i too would be batshit insane head over#heels absolutely down bad dogshit whipped for them keith you are so real ❤️ aslo gonna try to do a bonus and quick part four with the team!#vld#voltron#lance#lance mcclain#keith#keith kogane#klance#established klance#klance angst#soft angst#langst#soft keith#whipped keith#keith loves lance so so much#communication#bad communication#angst and fluff#hurt/comfort#angst with a happy ending#my writing#fic#longpost
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hold 🌙 ✨
#moondrop & reader#// one hug wip made it off the plethora of hug wips. Huzzah!!#just gonna talk a little in the tags. aadjfka#heard a song about grieving/loss yesterday. it unexpectedly got to me and it's really hard to talk about why. or how or why. lol.#i lost my brother as a teen a month before my birthday. i dont really like my birthday but thats a whole other thing.#it paints the month of August like humid stifling sunshine and sometimes it's not so bad. just uncomfortable.#its just. really not so great this year. i usually just try to sink myself into distractions and work and things i love.#it just managed to really creep up on me this time. ha#my art
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The Eliot Spencer Details Masterpost
I have been recording details about our beloved Eliot Spencer on my latest watch through. And now, it's finally time to reveal the details!! If I have gotten any details INCORRECT, I beg of you to correct me, at which time, this post will be updated and credit given. (Note: S1 was aired out of chronological order. I am going by chronological episode numbers - aka the correct order - and providing the episode titles as well to minimise confusion.) !! This post contains details from Leverage: Redemption! Read the episode references carefully if you are wanting to avoid certain spoilers !!
Shirtless Moments
S1 E7 The Two-Horse Job: The flashback scene when Aimee asks Eliot what his excuse was for not coming back to her, we see him being dragged/tortured, shirtless. "Tell us what you did with the monkey!"
S2 E2 The Tap-Out Job: Eliot is shirtless for the fight match.
S4 E9 The Cross My Heart Job: Ehh he's not completely shirtless here but whatever. At about 16 mins in, Eliot and Parker are getting changed together, Eliot strips to a singlet then throws his shirt at me the camera. (I didn't include other scenes of Eliot in a singlet here because in this scene he's actively undressing, whereas in others he's not.)
Necklaces
The earliest sighting of his guitar pick necklace is S1 E2 The Homecoming Job. It continues to pop up frequently in episodes, though noticeably less in S1. I thought about recording every occurrence of it here but ... lmao it's in legit waaayyyy too many episodes for me to bother.
S2 E10 The Runway Job: Honourable mention of the necklaces Eliot wears with his fashion week outfit. The longer one is kinda dogtag-esque, the shorter one is ... I think it's a fleur de lis? He also wears a range of chain necklaces later in this episode.
S4 E18 The Last Dam Job: Bird pendant (possibly kingfisher) visible at 34 mins 39 seconds. Full credits to @wolves-in-the-world for this one including the time stamp! You can check out their reblog of this post with more details here!
Dammit Hardison
S1 E13 The Second David Job: The FIRST INSTANCE of dammit Hardison in the entire show! Said upon discovering each other in the gallery, around 4 mins 15 seconds.
S2 E1 The Beantown Bailout Job: Said around 22 mins 30 seconds, immediately following, "What are the odds that Eliot's crotch will actually explode?" Iconic.
S2 E6 The Top Hat Job: When setting up for the magic show and discovering the rabbit missing, roughly 19 mins 45 seconds.
S3 E3 The Inside Job: Running from security, around 31 mins 30 seconds.
S3 E4 The Scheherazade Job: Trying to enter McRory's at the same time, around 1 min 30 seconds.
S3 E5 The Double Blind Job: This is an honourable mention because this time NATE is the one to say dammit Hardison! 9 mins 15 seconds.
S3 E6 The Studio Job: Upon discovering the master tape isn't in the case, roughly 32 mins.
S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job: Eliot and Hardison running in the woods for their lives, arguing as always. This one is a bonus 'dammit' because Hardison says it straight back to Eliot after Eliot yells it at him! Around 21 mins.
S3 E12 The King George Job: Discussing Hardison's forgery work, followed by Eliot regretting touching anything. Around 23 mins 55 seconds.
S3 E13 The Morning After Job: Pretending to be cops and accidentally ending up with a prisoner to take back to jail, around 16 mins 20 seconds.
S3 E14 The Ho Ho Ho Job: Honourable mention of Chaos mocking Eliot by saying dammit Hardison. Roughly 21 mins 15 seconds.
(phew, S3 was rough on Hardison! given what Eliot was going through with the whole Moreau thing.... ooh that's delicious angst)
S4 E5 The Hot Potato Job: Honourable mention for Sophie saying it this time! While playing the role that was meant for Eliot, around 24 mins.
S4 E6 The Carnival Job: Mixing chemicals for a distraction, roughly 25 mins 30 seconds.
S4 E17 The Radio Job: Hardison running away from being thrown off a high floor, around 5 mins.
S4 E18 The Last Dam Job: Sneaking around at the Bellington Dam, roughly 13 mins 35 seconds.
S5 E1 The (Very) Big Bird Job: 'Accidentally' putting a brew pub menu in front of Eliot, around 10 mins 20 seconds.
S5 E15 The Long Goodbye Job: Emotional scene that we do not speak about, around 12 mins 40 seconds.
RS1 E1 The Too Many Rembrandts Job: After knocking Harry out and asking Hardison to help carry Harry, and Hardison refuses. 11 mins 40 seconds.
RS1 E2 The Panamanian Monkey Job: Upon discovering that security is headed to the vault where Parker is, and the only way down there is through the vents. Around 34 mins 10 seconds.
RS2 E1 The Debutante Job: We get 3! In this whole episode! Probably to make up for Hardison being gone for most of Redemption. Anyway! First one when Eliot and Hardison are in Ralphie Roy's place and Hardison has no idea who Ralphie is, around 23 mins 15 seconds. Second is when they're breaking into the elevator and Hardison won't help fight or move the unconscious guards, roughly 37 mins 40 seconds. And third, after the job when Parker says that Hardison was the one who took out all the guards. Around 45 mins 10 seconds.
RS2 E3 The Tournament Job: Right at the start after Eliot says gaming isn't a sport and Parker texts Hardison, so Hardison starts blowing up Eliot's phone. Lmao. Around 4 mins 20 seconds.
RS2 E4 The Date Night Job: After realising Breanna stole his truck, Eliot says dammit, then aims it at a grinning Hardison, since Breanna is already running away. Around 46 mins 50 seconds.
Dammit Parker
S1 E4 The Snow Job: Parker jumps out of a second floor window, Eliot catches her. 15 mins. (Parker gets a dammit from Eliot before Hardison does!!)
S3 E8 The Boost Job: Parker driving erratically, Eliot thrown around in back seat. (Technically there's a pause between dammit and Parker but I'm still including it) 35 min 35 seconds.
S5 E12 The White Rabbit Job: Searching the mark's house, Parker wants to steal a shirt. Again, this isn't technically a proper dammit Parker, as Eliot instead says, "Put it back! Dammit." But I'm still including it because it was aimed at her. 21 mins 20 seconds.
RS1 E9 The Bucket Job: Parker is pretending to be a hacker heavily modelled off Hardison. Not a proper dammit Parker as, again, Eliot only mutters "dammit" under his breath, but still counts to me. Just after 18 mins.
RS1 E10 The Unwellness Job: At end of episode, after Parker admits that she didn't even learn Eliot's name till after the team broke up the first time. 44 mins 30 seconds.
RS1 E13 The Hurricane Job: After washing up on shore and entering the Beacon Inn, Parker and Eliot are bickering about Maria. He doesn't strictly say dammit Parker but there's absolutely no doubt who he's directing the dammits towards. 3 mins 30 seconds.
RS2 E6 The Fractured Job: When farewelling Billy and Parker says next time she'll finish telling him about the robot bodies. Again, it's just dammit not dammit Parker but it's close enough. 41 mins.
RS2 E8 The Turkish Prisoner Job: Another standalone dammit that is most definitely aimed at Parker! When breaking Romero out, Parker says she's a firefighter (with far too much glee), around 14 mins 30 seconds.
RS2 E10 The Work Study Job: A full dammit Parker this time! When Parker reveals that it's super easy to steal from a university and produces a whole bunch of stuff, roughly 22 mins 40 seconds.
Very Distinctive Moments
S1 E2 The Homecoming Job: Eliot ID's the weapon from the gunshots, around 8 mins. Later, he ID's a guy off his knife fighting style, around 18 mins 50 seconds.
S2 E6 The Top Hat Job: ID's a CIA guy from his stance, roughly 7 mins 45 seconds.
S3 E11 The Rashomon Job: ID's the smell of peppermint on Hardison's breath, around 21 mins.
S3 E12 The King George Job: ID's former British paratroopers by their haircuts, 30 mins 10 seconds.
S4 E1 The Long Way Down Job: ID's a former spetsnaz guy by his footprint, 13 mins 45 seconds.
S4 E5 The Hot Potato Job: Honourable mention of Eliot ID'ing ex-military personnel by their stances, he just doesn't say very distinctive. 18 mins 50 seconds.
S4 E11 The Experimental Job: Honourable mention of Eliot ID'ing a helicopter by the whumpa-whumpa (there's 7 of them did you know). Around 7 mins.
S5 E3 The First Contact Job: ID's military satellite transmission by the static, 7 mins 20 seconds.
S5 E9 The Rundown Job: ID's a Navy Seal who enlisted between '90-'95 by his watch, around 16 mins.
RS1 E2 The Panamanian Monkey Job: ID's a drone (Breanna's) from the sound. 11 mins 50 seconds.
RS1 E3 The Rollin' On The River Job: ID's Russian mob by the tattoos, 36 mins 30 seconds.
RS1 E7 The Double-Edged Sword Job: Honourable mention for Maria ID'ing the way Eliot disarmed her gun, 7 mins 50 seconds.
RS2 E4 The Date Night Job: Eliot ID's a guy as not having a distinctive anything - which is what is so distinctive. 20 mins 40 seconds.
RS2 E13 The Crowning Achievement Job: ID's MI6 off their search pattern, 6 mins 50 seconds.
Known Family
S1 E6 The Miracle Job: When discussing Bibletopia, Eliot says his nephew would like it. This is the ONLY mention of a nephew in the entire show, Redemption included; nor is there any direct mention of a sibling beyond this (which leads me to believe that this nephew is actually the son of a close friend/cousin/military buddy, rather than a direct family relation, but that's just my headcanon).
S2 E3 The Order 23 Job: When talking to the abused boy, Randy, Eliot says he has an uncle named Randy.
S5 E11 The Low Low Price Job: Eliot's dad owned a hardware store and he wanted Eliot to take over one day. But Eliot wanted to get out of that small town, so he joined the service. Fought with his dad the night before he left and hasn't been back since. He goes back at the end of this episode and knocks - but his dad never answers the door 😭
RS1 E9 The Bucket Job: While interrogating/torturing Eliot with Red Haze, Bligh says that Eliot's dad's friend from Vietnam has invited Eliot to join them for Christmas. At the end of the episode, Eliot goes to join them for dinner, only to get a message from 'J' that his dad was a no show. This 'J' is widely accepted as Eliot's unknown sibling but that is incorrect! 'J' is Eliot's dad's buddy from Vietnam!
RS2 E6 The Fractured Job: The ultimate Eliot family backstory episode!! (if you haven't seen it yet and don't want spoilers, skip this one!) Eliot was adopted by a black couple, Billy and an unnamed woman, after being abandoned/surrendered at a hospital as a baby. His father was a war hero who got none of the glory and sustained a wound, ruining his civilian career path, so Billy never wanted Eliot to follow in his footsteps. Eliot loved the stories of his dad in the military so joined up to be like him. His mother died while Eliot was on an op and he couldn't get leave to come back for the funeral, deepening the rift between him and Billy. Ultimately, they reconcile, (Eliot says his dad was always a hero to him, Billy say's he's proud of Eliot, they hug), and I cry every time 😭❤️ [Edit: Eliot being a baby at the time of being found at the hospital and consequently brought home by his adopted mother is unconfirmed and my presumption. We have no clear info on his age at adoption. Thanks to @nival-kenival for picking that up!]
Phrases: Ain't
S1 E4 The Snow Job: Said to Nate, right before Nate tells him to go skip some rope.
S1 E9 The Stork Job: Says it twice while conning Irina.
S1 E10 The Juror #6 Job: Upon being told to go help Parker instead of watching a sports game, Eliot takes his beer back.
S2 E2 The Tap-Out Job: Discussing the fights the mark runs, says they ain't the UFC.
S2 E3 The Order 23 Job: Said right before threatening to throw Randy's abusive father over the railing of a stairwell.
S2 E4 The Fairy Godparents Job: Upon spotting a hitman sent to kill McSweeten and Taggart.
S2 E8 The Ice Man Job: After hearing Hardison call himself the Ice Man, says he won't bail him out when things go wrong.
S2 E9 The Lost Heir Job: While trying to get Parker to the court room and end up cut off by the police.
S2 E11 The Bottle Job: When Hardison wants help to clean up Nate's apartment and Eliot refuses.
S2 E14 The Three Strikes Job: When Nate says to meet outside the ballpark but Eliot refuses because now he's sucked into the sport.
S3 E3 The Inside Job: Twice while arguing with Hardison about how to rescue Parker, once when Parker offers him a lift down the stairwell with her on her harness rig and he refuses. This is the most he says ain't in a single episode!
S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job: Once when the militia try to make him kneel, later when the militia kid catches him and Hardison near the train tracks.
S3 E11 The Rashomon Job: When Sophie changes her story to mock Eliot's accent and mannerisms.
S3 E15 The Big Bang Job: When confronting Moreau with Hardison.
S4 E1 The Long Way Down Job: Upon arriving at the base camp and complaining to Nate.
S4 E7 The Grave Danger Job: When looking for a buried Hardison and hearing the sprinklers.
S4 E10 The Queen's Gambit Job: At the end, swearing revenge on Sterling.
S4 E12 The Office Job: Arguing with Hardison about Eliot's sandwich while searching the warehouse.
S4 E13 The Girls' Night Out Job: When trying to convince Nate to socialise at the very start.
S4 E14 The Boys' Night Out Job: Exactly the same as the previous episode, so this one barely counts.
S4 E17 The Radio Job: In the patent office, when trying to figure out who lured Nate into this situation. The same scene is used later as a flashback.
S4 E18 The Last Dam Job: Warning Nate of the consequences of taking a life with your own hands.
S5 E2 The Blue Line Job: When ambushed by Marko when leaving the ice rink.
S5 E9 The Rundown Job: Once when going to wring information on the hit out of Riley, once when Hardison steps on the trigger plate of the claymore.
S5 E13 The Corkscrew Job: First time talking to Betty about how Leonard's a jerk.
RS1 E1 The Too Many Rembrandts Job: Twice when ambushed by RIZ thugs in the warehouse.
RS1 E2 The Panamanian Monkey Job: Once when discussing Ryan Corbett at the start, once when refusing to let Hardison have a turn with the diamond-tipped drill.
RS1 E3 The Rollin' On The River Job: When warning Breanna to be certain of her calculations for how to get him and Parker out of the casino's vault.
RS1 E8 The Mastermind Job: Once when discussing hiring people to overthrow a government, once when discussing how they're going to do like 6 things at once, including saving Harry.
RS1 E9 The Bucket Job: Said twice while talking with Blanche, after Blanche helped rescue Eliot from RIZ.
RS1 E14 The Great Train Job: While digging through the tainted soil with Harry.
RS2 E1 The Debutante Job: When trying to get to Volkov's plane with Parker and seeing that two guards are in the way.
RS2 E5 The Walk In The Woods Job: Talking to Paul after rescuing Harry, who was pretending to be Eliot.
Fun fact: for every ain't that Eliot says, Hardison says at least two more. And that's too many for me to bother recording!
Phrases: Y'all
Never. Not even once.
Hardison, on the other hand, says y'all all the damn time - every season, multiple times, sometimes even multiple times in the same episode.
Honourable mention for Chaos saying y'all as an incorrect mockery of Eliot's accent in S3 E14 The Ho Ho Ho Job.
... Okay, okay! So Eliot says it a few times in Redemption! But only in ONE episode!
RS1 E1 The Too Many Rembrandts Job: Said 4 times when playing a character and convincing people to clear out of the auction house.
That's it.
Aliases
These are all the names that Eliot's gone by or used on cons that I could find, not just full blown aliases.
S1 E1 The Nigerian Job: Detective Lieutenant Carden (the scene with this alias was cut from a lot of versions of this episode)
S1 E4 The Snow Job: Vince Fetkey, Hans Von Schwesterkrank
S1 E7 The Two-Horse Job: Brad Mackie
S1 E9 The Stork Job: Dale
S1 E12 The First David Job: Professor Sinclair
S1 E13 The Second David Job: Professor/Dr Adam Sinclair
S2 E2 The Tap-Out Job: Kid Jones (on the fight match poster)
S2 E4 The Fairy Godparents Job: Coach Brewer
S2 E5 The Three Days Of The Hunter Job: Earl
S2 E9 The Lost Heir Job: Officer Hilts
S2 E10 The Runway Job: Julian
S2 E14 The Three Strikes Job: Roy Chappell
S3 E1 The Jailhouse Job: Dr Abernathy
S3 E2 The Reunion Job: Lloyd Hickey
S3 E4 The Scheherazade Job: Guy Hamilton
S3 E5 The Double Blind Job: Phil
S3 E6 The Studio Job: Kenneth Crane
S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job: Agent Quint
S3 E8 The Boost Job: Skeeter
S3 E9 The Three-Card Monte Job: Detective Moffat
S3 E10 The Underground Job: Eric
S3 E11 The Rashomon Job: Dr Wes Abernathy
S3 E16 The San Lorenzo Job: Ray Laroque
S4 E2 The Ten Li'l Grifters Job: Charlie Siringo
S4 E4 The Van Gogh Job: Lieutenant (only granting him this one because CK played him in the flashback)
S4 E5 The Hot Potato Job: Tom Boonen
S4 E12 The Office Job: Mr Dennis
S4 E14 The Boys' Night Out Job: Luigi
S4 E15 The Lonely Hearts Job: Jackson Cooper
S4 E16 The Gold Job: Tobias Bowden
S4 E17 The Radio Job: Cowboy (*cough* John McClane *cough*)
S5 E2 The Blue Line Job: Jacques "Jack" Labert
S5 E3 The First Contact Job: Willie Riker
S5 E5 The Gimme A K Street Job: Steven Turner
S5 E6 The DB Cooper Job: DB Cooper/Young Steve Reynolds (again, technically not an alias but whatever it's here anyway)
S5 E7 The Real Fake Car Job: Barry McElroy
S5 E11 The Low Low Price Job: Archer
S5 E14 The Toy Job: Carl
Honourable mentions of Eliot being called: "Rambo" by Hardison in S1 E2 The Homecoming Job [thanks @independent-fics for this!]; "Emeril" by Parker in S1 E3 The Wedding Job [thanks @aardvaark for this one!]; "Sparky" by Parker in S1 E10 The Juror #6 Job and by Tara in S2 E15 The Maltese Falcon Job; and "Skippy" by Hardison in S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job.
RS1 E1 The Too Many Rembrandts Job: Will Gallagher
RS1 E6 The Card Game Job: Glenn the Savage
RS1 E7 The Double-Edged Sword: Emmett Milbarge
RS1 E8 The Mastermind Job: Frank Farmer
RS1 E10 The Unwellness Job: Hank
RS1 E12 The Golf Job: Reed Wilkins
RS1 E13 The Hurricane Job: Calvin
RS1 E15 The Muddy Waters Job: Armus Vagra
RS2 E7 The Big Rig Job: Kris
RS2 E8 The Turkish Prisoner Job: Nick O'Brien
RS2 E10 The Work Study Job: New Blood, Caterpillar
Honourable mention of Eliot being called "Skipper" by Hardison in RS1 E16 The Harry Wilson Job.
Known Associates
This is in direct reference to hitters/people from the criminal world that Eliot knew or was aware of prior to the Leverage Team. Quinn is not included in this list due to that distinction (sorry Quinn).
S1 E3 The Wedding Job: The Butcher of Kiev
S2 E7 The Two Live Crew Job: Mikel Dayan
S3 E11 The Rashomon Job: Gutman
S3 E15 The Big Bang Job: Chapman, Damien Moreau
S3 E16 The San Lorenzo Job: Damien Moreau
S4 E4 The Van Gogh Job: Frank, Randall
S4 E6 The Carnival Job: Roper
S5 E4 The French Connection: Rampone
S5 E9 The Rundown Job: Riley
Trivia
S2 E6 The Top Hat Job: Eliot claims he only sleeps 90 minutes a day, and that he cured his claustrophobia as a kid by locking himself in the woodshed behind his house for a couple nights.
S3 E6 The Studio Job: Eliot is nervous to perform in front of an audience, to the point that Parker startles him and she's surprised that she did. Interesting to note that he seems to have no issue playing sport in front of crowds.
S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job: Eliot says he hates beets.
S4 E5 The Hot Potato Job: Eliot chews gum. He does this throughout a LOT of episodes across the seasons but I've only noted down this one episode for it.... thanks, past me 🙄 [Edit: thanks @nival-kenival for more info! Another confirmed episode is S1 E2 The Homecoming Job, and S3 E13 The Morning After Job!]
S4 E9 The Cross My Heart Job: Eliot says he fought a guy with a Nerf sword in Damascus, 2002.
S5 E11 The Low Low Price Job: Eliot drives an F-150 to his dad's house in Oklahoma. This is a THIRD vehicle that apparently belongs to Eliot, in addition to the Chevrolet Silverado and Dodge Challenger we see in other episodes. The F-150 is not seen again.
S5 E12 The White Rabbit Job: Eliot has 'special sedatives' aka a little psychotropic he picked up outside of Bogota.
Eliot mostly walks at the back of the group, presumably to be the rear guard and make sure no one falls behind. See ... just about every damn episode for evidence.
RS1 E3 The Rollin' On The River Job: Parker says that Eliot has cut his way out of an ice cave, escaped a gorilla enclosure, and catered a wedding for the mob.
Eliot is seen wearing glasses throughout various episodes. A flashback in S1 E1 The Nigerian Job shows him wearing presumably his own glasses. All other instances of him wearing glasses (that I can think of) are when he takes someone's glasses for a con. It is unconfirmed if Eliot actually needs glasses to correct his eyesight or not, but is a fandom headcanon. In S3 E1 The Jailhouse Job there is an interaction where Nate ribs Eliot for taking so long in a fight, and Eliot says it's because of new glasses. An argument could be made that this means Eliot does require glasses. [Thanks @independent-fics for picking this up - for pretty much all the details pertaining to Eliot's glasses!]
And there you have it! All the details that I've spent the last 3 months collecting!! Now it's time for me to take a good, long break because my brain is fried! 😂
Once again, let me know if you find any errors so I can update the post. Data from Redemption S2 is where I've most likely missed things, since I don't have it on DVD and it's sooo much harder to scrub through streaming footage to find things. When will they release RS2 on DVD I need itttt.
If you've made it this far, thanks for reading! I hope this post can be a helpful reference for you!
#eliot spencer#leverage#leverage redemption#the eliot spencer details masterpost#meta#does this count as meta??? ah who cares.#christian kane#parker leverage#alec hardison#nate ford#sophie devereaux#my posts#reference#not everything has time stamps because i could. not. be. bothered.#just the stuff i figured i'd use the most#and ngl i started researching when he says 'y'all' because i often see it included in fics and i was like... eliot would not say that#not trying to have a go at anyone i just had to prove it for myself#this has been a labour of love#emphasis on the LABOUR#no more laptop time for a while#i'll be sticking to my phone thanks#oh and if anyone has details that they want to add on go for it!#this is an official leverage fandom resource#i was originally gonna add photos and/or gifs to this but lmao no#it's enough of a monster as is#time to post
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2011 Italian Grand Prix - Vettonso
#SORRY. I AM GOING THROUGH IT.#this is why i had to put vettonso merchant in my bio bcs if i dont post them at least 5x a week ill die#their dynamic in this race is like actually indecipherable to me#cause this is the race where fernando 'allegedly' said fuck you my boy#but their dynamic is so odd????#like they have that happen in the cooldown room#and then generally ignore each other on the podium#and then we randomly get this cute moment and then they INSTANTLY go back to being awkward#but then in the press con they keep talking about each other and looking at each other???? okay :)#sometimes im just like. yeah no i give up on trying to understand them#not rly noticeable in these buts its so funny how seb pats him to get his attention#and then immediately goes to cheer as if to be like 'huh what i didnt touch uou'#to ref that one post about this race said: he didnt wanna embarrass himself again by getting turned on#stealing this from c cough cough but hes like 'oh no!! if he looks at me im gonna embrass myself on broadcast again!!'#anyways i love this moment and the pics from this are like my fav ever 2010s pics of them so yeah <3#f1#formula 1#sebastian vettel#fernando alonso#vettonso#we do a little bit of f1#*its so odd i completely remember finishing this and scheduling it last night#*but when i woke up it was only half done??? im still confused#2011 italian gp
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i think i'm just gonna rawdog veilguard when it comes out and have it as my first dragon age game oops
scale 0-10 how bad idea?
#life#like.. i got the previous games on sale but i just can't make myself play them and i don't think i have enough time to before veilguard#genuinely the 5 times i tried my hand slipped and i ended up booting up bg3#and honestly??? i don't want to move on from bg3 just yet#actually.. i don't want to at all i love this shit#and i usually get lost in the sauce once i start experiencing a story so... yeah#but i really want to try dragon age and i feel like everyone playing it together#is gonna pull me in and make me feel like part of something the way bg3 did so yeah#planning on that#i know like 5 characters and literally have no clue what the story is about#blight something?? dsgdfg
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Okay gang, here's a silly little game. I've assembled six teams of blended Narnia and Tolkien/LotR characters. Here they are:
For bonus points, tell me in the tags where you're going on your road trip, who has what role (driving, snacks, aux) on the road, and what you'll stop off and see along the way
#this is shameless inspired by the lotr national parks poll#but the crossover potential is just too good#also for characters who wouldn't reasonably fit in said VW bus just handwave it#everyone basically fits okay?#narnia#pontifications and creations#ask me hard questions#tolkien legendarium#i myself am going with team 5 (to no one's shock)#we're gonna hit national parks across america#Bilbo and Treebeard can trade off as DJ#Eärendil gets to help drive and navigate#Lucy is in charge of snapping pics out the window#Reepicheep can lead us in some road trip games or something idk#i feel like this would be a really lovely group to just sit and stare at natural beauty in silence together#which is kinda my jam#occasionally pointing out something really especially lovely#would be fun#edit: as if I left put your fave character I'm sorry both these series have about a million so it was bound to happen#and for Narnia in particular I was trying to bias it towards Narnians rather than friends of narnia#also i was seriously tempted to do a 'team dragon' which would be all the tolkien dragons + eustace haha#polls
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