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asouefanworkevent · 2 months ago

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another fall is upon us! another woevember is coming!!

what is it?

woevember is an asoue fanwork event week, that will take place from november 10th through november 16th, 2024. every day of the week is dedicated to a different part of a series of unfortunate events or all the wrong questions for you to create something about! this year's theme is objects!

what do i do?

the prompts will be revealed now, so everyone has time to make something. between now and the week of november 10th, you’ll create fanworks about the prompts, and then post it on the corresponding day during november 10th - 16th! there will be the occasional countdown post between then and now too, so we all know how many days are left until posting begins.

don’t forget to tag this tumblr (asouefanworkevent) in the post so i can find it and reblog it, and tag the post with #woevember !

what do you mean by fanwork?

everything! fanfic and fanart are of course allowed, but woevember has always been meant to be an event that is as big or as little effort as you want! fanwork also means edits, gifs, analysis posts, headcanons!! your cosplay!! your photography!! your photosets!! your web weaving!! your moodboards!! your super short fics!! your sketchiest drawings!! your most ramble-y half-fic idea posts!! your wip scenes!! you merely saying ‘lemony snicket, though. am i right?????’ (and you are. you’re so right.) your loving macaroni art!! your embroidery!! your sculpture!! whatever you are moved to make from the prompts! i want people to be encouraged to and be able to create even something small that didn’t exist before for the snicketverse, and share it with other people!

are there any rules?

to keep the event open and comfortable for everyone, no explicit content. also, as always, sibling romance and age gaps will not be tolerated.

do i have to make something for every day?

only if you want to! feel free to just make something for one day if you want :) the point of having a different theme for each day is so some part of canon that you like comes up eventually, and you can at least make something for one of the days. or you get struck by an idea you might not have considered before! i want to get people thinking about all the intriguing things in asoue and atwq and the exciting, different ways we can interpret and create from the same idea.

what are the prompts?

the description under each prompt is just some ideas to get your brain going – feel free to take them in another direction too! whatever you want to come up with!!

november 10th - violet's inventions

the grappling hook! the toaster in the clock! the rock retrieval device! the bobblehead train stopper! even just lockpicking, and violet's ribbon, too! what else do you think violet has made, pre-canon or during canon? what does she make now? post-canon, does she have a job that relates to inventing? does she still invent in her spare time?

november 11th - the sugar bowl

the mysterious sugar bowl! lives have been lost in the quest to find it and it's important to both the snickets and the baudelaires, so says esme. where is it now? what was its importance? what was inside it? where was it during canon, before canon? who has had it before? did anyone have it before esme? what does it look like? how does it keep its contents safe? when was it first used? did it make it to the hotel denouement? is anyone still searching for it? what if it wasn't stolen?

november 12th - disguises

both the firestarters and the firefighters have used disguises --the same disguises, supplied by vfd. what other kinds of disguises have each side used, and for what ends? was a disguise ever seen through at the wrong time, or the right time? was a disguise ever NOT seen through when it should have been? even the disguises beatrice wore when she acted on stage, or the cow disguise worn by jacques snicket, or the denouement triplets pretending to be each other, what does it mean to wear a disguise and what do you do when you wear one? do the baudelaires, or the quagmires, ever wear disguises again? do frank and ernest ever pretend to be each other post-canon?

november 13th - the bombinating beast

our beloved statue the size of a milk bottle, valued upwards of a great deal of money! where do you think it is now? what did lemony do with it when he left stain'd-by-the-sea? who used it before canon? do the baudelaires ever encounter it? does it make its way back to stain'd-by-the-sea? and where is the bombinating beast itself now?

november 14th - books

lemony's a series of unfortunate events books do, after all, exist in asoue canon itself! what does vfd think of the books? who's read them? or books like the unauthorized autobiography, and the beatrice letters, and lemony's childrens books, what place might they have in canon? for all the wrong questions, who's read them? they were filed at vfd headquarters, after all. how many members of vfd know what lemony did during his apprenticeship? or books like caviar: salty jewel of the tasty sea, or stain'd myths, or lemony's pamphlets on the accordion, or even the classic children's lit books, like the ramona series by beverly cleary, and their place inside canon and especially vfd? or even beatrice and bertrand's a series of unfortunate events, the journal they contribute to on the island. who else has written in that journal?

november 15th - the duchess of winnipeg's ring

the ring that went from the duchess, to lemony, to beatrice, to back to lemony, to kit, to bertrand, to beatrice, to the box she kept it in, to widdershins as he searched the ruins of the baudelaire mansion, to ishmael when it washed up on the island, to violet, and to the second beatrice, who traded it to a shepherd for a yak ride. what other adventures has it been on? does the duchess ever get it back again? why did beatrice keep it in a box -- a box that kit's grandfather made the code for? what has the rest of the duchess' family done with it? what does it mean to them?

november 16th - free space!

do you have another object in mind? the spyglass, one of klaus's books, or sunny's meals, or the harpoon gun, or ellington's record player, or cleo's chemistry equipment, or something like the medusoid mycelium? the laudanum? all the things esme says are in or out? the baudelaire fortune? the quagmire sapphires? the fabled tito puente records? the ruins of the baudelaire mansion and what else might be there? all those objects mrs. bass had her students measure? jake hix's meals? cleo's car, or the bellerophon taxi? the vfd taxi? gustav's films, or the sebald code? violet's bread knife? kit's book raft? commonplace books? do you want to combine any of these objects with one of the previous days and create something with two objects for one of the previous days? so many options!! or do you care not for objects! use the free space to write about the item or character or relationship or thought or whatever of your choosing! feel free to pick a theme from a previous woevember event for the free space, if you'd like!

if you have any questions about anything, feel free to drop me an ask or a message!

happy creating, and i hope to see lots of you november 10th-16th!! ✨

#asoue #atwq #a series of unfortunate events #all the wrong questions #lemony snicket #woevember #my family suggested 'loving macaroni art' after last year's woevember and i have been saving it for this year's post. teamwork everyone!!

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fryingpan1234567 · 10 months ago

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canonically Jason and Tim have motorcycles, right? and B and Duke too but the other two are more well known I think

ANYWAYS what if everyone in the batfam had one tho? because. the potential.

Dick takes his off of roofs sometimes, but it’s built for it. before all his modifications, it was just a blue and black chrome Yamaha sports bike, nothing special. he added a Nightwing sticker on each side, a bunch of weapons (mostly electricity based), grappling hooks, Nightwing things. there’s even a sidecar for Haley.

Babs (before the wheelchair days) had a purple and yellow one that matched her suit perfectly. it sort of meant she couldn’t use it during the day, but occasionally she rode it to work with extensive concealing of the random dangerous gadgets. hers was also a Yamaha (same model ^^)

Jason canonically has a black shapeshifting one like some maccadams shit but it’s fine— it’s loud as shit, so he doesn’t really use it for patrol, but he loves it during the day. because it’s just black, it’s pretty easy to take it out for completely non-suspicious speeding law breaking joyrides. no harm done!

Cass has a jet black Ninja, and her reputation on the streets is about the same as the nightfury’s at the beginning of the first httyd. dark, deadly, and it’s even quiet in Gotham’s busy streets. watch your back for her.

Tim’s got the BATCYCLE it’s CANON. it’s also canon that it’s got a liquid-cooling engine and a Robin-themed paint job, but fuck that, I say it’s dark red and electric and he rides it to work. so sometimes (most of the time) he pulls up with ruffled clothes and helmet hair, which Conner nearly fainted at the first time he saw it, but we don’t talk about that. he doesn’t use it for patrol because Kon said he’d carry him everywhere if Tim gave him rides in exchange. on the bike. he has said on more than one occasion “wear the helmet, ride a biker” and Tim punches him really hard

Steph’s bike is purple, and the wheels do the hover-shift-glowy thing like in Mario Kart (also purple). she’s not scared of you or anyone; she will ride that shit to school and use it on patrol with the hovering and distracting color and everything. fight me.

in canon, Duke’s bike is electric with a bunch of lights and black and yellow and lowkey built like a tank. I kinda like it! I think it’s a fabulous bike for a fabulous man so therefore he gets to keep it I won’t be taking criticism

Damian gets a green and red and black electric Ninja, plus a helmet that he painted with feathers and paw prints n shit. Jon likes the spare, which is just black but has a red mohawk. what more could you want? he could fly everywhere, but he also could just have his badass motorcycle bf drive him everywhere while he wears his dope ass helmet and vibes to whatever 2000s pop shit Damian lets him play. he’s a professional backpack.

did you think I’d stop at the Batkids? sorry imma keep going

I like the idea of Brucie having a black sports bike that’s 90% modifications like in the movie. no one remembers what it was before he took it all apart and added Bat-stuff, but it looks great now! it’s blown up more times than you can count, just because it’s a really good target for rogues.

Kate has one that’s almost exactly the same, except hers is maybe a little closer to what it was originally. she doesn’t quite have all the same stuff Bruce does, but they’re the same vibe!

anyways that’s the vigilante weirdos club, so like it’s expected that they’d all have a dangerous vehicle. slightly less expected— Alfred freaking Pennyworth has a Harley with tall handles and sparkly black paint, but nobody knew that for such a long time because he barely leaves the manor. all the kids lost their minds when they found out. what can I say

anyways some Bat-bike shenanigans that have ensued:

street races between all the Batkids at least once a week, whether that be on patrol or in civvy clothes

Jason obnoxiously revving really loud whenever he sees one of them in the street, on a date, when he’s picking them up from something, just as often as possible. obnoxious revving. old people hate him

cool lesbian aunt Kate picking up kids from school with her badass bike and epic helmet

sometimes Dick will be talking about “his child” or “his baby” and no one’s sure if he’s talking about his dog or his bike

bike-related thirst traps on social media

“race you to the next light”

not a single one of them has left a Gotham speeding law intact even once (not even Alfred, although he won’t admit it)

Wally likes to get Dick to race him on his bike even though he knows he’s going to win

both Jon and Conner have said something along the lines of “I bet I could pick up the bike with you on it” as a show-off attempt, but Damian and Tim love their paint jobs too much to permit them to try

Batfam on bikes❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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bonefall · 11 months ago

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Hi! How would you draw a tool-evolved cat paw?

Aeons ago I wrote some speculative biology thoughts on what a tool-focused cat would begin to look like, and mentioned the way that a caw's paw might evolve. I can try to draw it out as a sketch; but fair warning that I put my art style points into cartoony anime stuff SO you're not gonna get a realistic drawing lmao

Evolution doesn't "think." It's many changes over generations that snowball into bigger ones. So I tried to look at WHAT exactly is happening between an animal with less sophisticated tool use (chimp) and one that COMPLETELY relies on tools (human) to predict where the cat's paw would end up in a few thousand generations.

Please note! My paw would still be a "link" between the ancestor, and something even more reliant on tool use. This proposed species would still be 100% capable of doing what the cats in-canon do, like hunt alone. It's for a feline species that is tool-ADAPTED, not tool-RELIANT.

(In that way, it's more comparable to, say, a lemur and a chimp. But lemur palm refs were hard to find and I did this quick because I've already thought about it.)

This paw would exist in-tandem with a "tool tooth;" A V-shaped gap in the jawline that a single fang would nestle into. Early tool-using felines would likely use their mouth to "break" or "shear" their crafts, leading to broken teeth that would make them less successful. So there would be a lot of evolutionary pressure to have better, stronger teeth.

Evolution doesn't do "one thing at a time," so if you happened to port yourself into a group of these cats and watch them craft stuff, you'd see them using their mouths as well as their paws!

Finger Size + Tool Claw

When you see real cats batting stuff around and manipulating things, and when you look at canon where they like to "hook things on a claw," it's usually the index "finger" they favor. In fact, they do a LOT of "poking," even when a cat bats at something they seem to mostly explore with the tip of their paw.

So I figure that would actually be a big difference between this species and humans.

Unlike us, who usually have our middle finger as the longest (though there are exceptions) so we can "stabilize" the things we grab, I'd give these guys a "Tool Claw" which is not involved in grappling at all. It's longer, more deeply grooved, but also more fragile than the "hunting" claws.

When at rest, the Tool Claw would stick out from the rest of the foot, straight upwards. The fur is able to "sheathe" the other three, but the index's would be too long to be fully hidden.

Because one of those fingers is now mostly taken out of combat, the pinkie would probably thicken up to compensate. Another difference from the human hand. I can imagine that if the trend continues, they might end up supporting their full frontal weight on the pinkie pad to free up the other fingers for tool use.

(But evolution's not always predictable! They might end up becoming more "back heavy" like raccoons, or rely on the invention of shoe/gloves, or just abandon silent hunting all together to become tool-reliant.)

Paw Pad Changes

Cats use the pads on their paws to move silently. As long as the species is relying on silently stalking prey, they will need to have these pads in contact with the ground to be good hunters.

So instead of the digital pads sliding down to create the "top" of the palm, I figured the metacarpal pad would split in two. So now there's a snug, dipped "shape" with which they could nestle an object into as they work with it, but also there is ALWAYS still pad in contact with the ground.

The amount of fur in-between the bottom (metacarpal) and top (supercarpal) pads probably just depends on culture and genetics. It wouldn't really have enough of an impact on the paw to be selected for to be furry or hairless.

I can imagine some groups being weird about it and thinking it should be shaved or braided or something, lmao. Or cats who live in muddy environments clipping it for hygiene reasons.

#Speculative Biology #bone babble #but btw no i dont use these in my bb drawings.#this is just for fun.#BB isn't really a spec bio project.#And also YES this is free to use for anything go nuts

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cartoonsinthemorning · 14 days ago

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Hi forgive me if this has been addressed before! I'm a little new to your fem!stan stuff (I saw your ask reblogged by Boston and snuck out of the back of their foodtruck to send this) but I love the idea and was wondering does stan pretend to be Stanford when he falls in the portal? (If that is the route that's taken in the au at least) because it would be really interesting to see if constance would enjoy the freedom that comes with being a man but at the same time I think it would drive (incel) ford up the wall if he came back and saw his sister running a successful business out of his house. There would be this extra layer of tension as ford has to grapple with his own learned misogyny. Though I also imagine exploring the multiverse and seeing the way gender is explored or even ignored in other worlds would probably force him to have some realizations before hand but whether or not hed really allow himself to internalize those realizations is another story. Bros got an easy excuse to not analyze his own sexism since hes trying to hunt down bill

And then when he comes back and sees his sister is doing just fine would probably wound his pride a little bit. All those fantasies and unfair expectations of their roles hes built in his mind are forced to come crashing down once again

I'm also just kind of obsessed with the idea of constance finally learning how to be /stan/ in gravity falls because she never had the freedom and safety to do so before. I'm sure a large part of rejection of any femininity whatsoever came from not having the option to do so in the past. But then she watches the kids over the summer and sees mabel embracing makeovers and grappling hooks hand in hand. Dipper is insistent on being a "man" but never once tries to tell mabel she needs to be a "woman"

This ask is all over the place sorry I think i had a point to the start of this and now I'm just rambling about your own au to you lmfao

Anyway love the concept (and your art!!)

-🐶

Hello! Thank you for passing by and sending me such a nice message, sharing your own ideas with me! and many thanks for the compliments too, of course ❤ That said, I'm afraid my answer will be a tad disappointing. Because, the fem!Stan I enjoy to imagine is cis, and I can't imagine a cis woman being able to consistently pretend to be a man for thirty years, without losing their mind (in the same way it's detrimental for most trans people to supress their true identity for a lifetime, non?). Especially, in the same way canon Stan is very masculine (with a sprinkle of femininity, despite his shame about it), I like to imagine Constance as a lady who is very proud and comfortable in her womanhood- despite her loud voice and direct and somehow brash manners. Even in her younger years, when she was classified as a tomboy by most, she loved girly things- dresses, make up, gossip magazines, etc. without issues. I think of Stan in her 60s wearing tacky jewelry, lipstick, and hair-curlers at night, tbh. That's why, in this AU, my mind skirts around the part were Ford gets stuck into the portal.

For example, I sometimes imagine 30s Ford simply having a change of heart and dismantling the portal, and (now former) Drifter!Constance living with him from that point on (and, of course, I elaborated this one up until Stan and Mabel get into the picture, but for the sake of brevity I'll stop here). Or, I bend canon a little, making up that the people of Gravity Falls only heard of some researcher who was gonna build and live in a shack in the forest, but they never actually got to see them, let alone find out if it was a man or a woman. It's a version were the chaos Ford caused in town while posses by Bill either never happened or he did it without getting caught by police or getting seen. And, about the name on documents and stuff-- Constance was a marinated and resourceful conwoman at that point, she simply found a way to make things work. Hell, they have the same last name- maybe this time she registered Ford as deceased, passed herself as his wife, and inherited the Shack and the rest of Ford's possessions. I know many, reading this, would think it's heartless of Stan, but to me this trick is fucking hilarious. Especially, I'm grinning like a maniac imagining how mad and appalled Ford would look as he realizes the trick Constance pulled- not only because what a fucking ASSHOLE she's been, to use his "death" to appropriate his stuff- but also!! secretly!! because WHAT the FUCK- he often fantasized about Stan being his wife, but this is the most cruel and ironic monkey paw situation EVER!! To reconnect back to your speculations about sexist!Ford being humiliated and mad about Constance running a business independently: I like it! it's fun to read! But, I have to go deeper. I usually think of Ford's sexism toward Constance to be the outside layer, so to speak. I think deep down Ford always knew Stan had the potential to be strong, resourceful and independent, despite what their ma, pa, teachers and other people said. Ford grew next to her, he knows what this girl is capable of, how determined she is. And that's the point...What he really dreads, what he really hates, is the idea she doesn't need him, at all. That's what would make Ford actually upset about Stan running a business: knowing that, hadn't she brought him back, she would had been fine, without him. Sexism would be the mental shield Ford uses to protect himself from this painful acknowledgment: He's just mad because his fraud of a sister thinks she's being successful, but all she accomplished was using her physical appearance and womanly ways to seduce and manipulate. That's all, really. I roll my eyes at him, here, which is a good indicator I got him in character, if I can say so myself. The last scene you shared, with Stan realizing her nephew and niece aren't as oppressed by gender roles as she herself used to be- and bypassing them, even- is SO sweet 🥺 I have absolutely no doubt in my mind: one thing that does NOT change in either the canon universe and the genderbend one, is that Stan would love and adore Dipper and Mabel- and learn a lot from them ❤ PS: is the puppy icon your anon signature? it's so cute! 🐶 look at this fine boy. Great choice.

#stancest #fem!Stan #I have sketches of 60s Constance that I will eventually share #it's nothing groundbreaking tbh BUT I have to spam y'all you must be subjected to my visions

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itsbenedict · 1 month ago

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From the beginning | Previously | Coin standings | 37 | 19

[ed: Okay. Okay, fine. Obviously this experiment is kind of a failure if we can't change this encounter, but fine. No way to set up a divergent continuity here, since it'll just get Jocques-blocked for some stupid reason. But let's say we still care about these two and want to save them from being tragically murdered by their own sort-of daughter after their other sort-of-daughter sics them on her as a midboss in the finale. What can we do?]

[ed: At game start, LEAD A HORSE TO WATER needs to be in SPECIMEN STORAGE. Or... no, okay, technically all that needs to happen is that MELODY REMAKE needs to think LEAD A HORSE TO WATER is in SPECIMEN STORAGE, so she's done with her chores and can go off to try to kill the party. After that... Actually, since the original plan is a no-go, I can probably just tell you what I've got in the works. Thorax() pointed me at a huge unused memory segment in the compiled game code- a section whose memory range never gets referenced during a normal playthrough. We still can't decompile it, but I'm pretty sure there's a secret ending hidden on the disk. I've got a few ideas for how to access it (thanks to some quirks in how New Game+ handles flags), but right now I don't know what's in there. And that might be our in. In the normal ending, these lovebirds don't make it. But if I'm right about the entry point to the secret ending, we should be able to skip the chapter 6 midboss. Which means... we can set up a scenario where them escaping is technically canon-compliant with the alternate route, where (if I'm right) you don't have to kill them.

In the meantime...]

You are L𝓔AD A HORSE TO WATER. You've entered the EXECUTIVE LODGING. What would make sense is if you went inside the little coffin-shaped house in the center of this thorn maze, and talked to the person inside, and maybe talked out your issues and solved them 𝕓efore you𝓻 conflicting repair processes drove you insane. But you guess that can't happen for some reason.

So let's say there's someone else here. It süper doesn't matter who. They're a little stick figure oη the map. It could be anyone, really- some security guy from the Design Center, or SEQUEL INJECTION's gardener, ๏r even another intruder or something. Could not matter less who it is.

All that matters is that they are not SEQUEL INJECፕION. They're just someone who ዘappens to be hanging out in or near his house. It might, theoretically, make morᴇ sense if this underspecified rando were SEQUEL INJECTION all along, but you're quite confident that they're not.

They're just so𝔪eone who happens to be able to dø all the things SEQUEL INJECTION can do, and they're willing to help you. You've communicated youɍ plight somehow, to this hypᴼthetical guy someone just made up, and who no one can prove wasn't there. Don't worry about what words you said, or what happened in that conversation. The less any of it matters, the better. Point is, they've got a plan to help you escape, which is...

[ed: ...Well, this works better if you're the ones technically coming up with the plan. Let's give you some hooks into it.]

The mystery raภdo has recorded the sound of some girl's newborn horse singing a little song. Will NORA BALODECK'S COLT LILT help somehow?

You're in your Joker era- specifically, the joker you whiтtled out of balsa wood which talks to you in your own voicє. Is your CHATTIER BALSA JOKER ERA too spooky to handle?

Hey, FILM IS OUT: NOODLE OWLISHLY! You've been looking forward to seeing Noodle Owlishly in theaters ever sin𝐜e seeing a pre-screening at a local avant-garde film festival.

The rando has some dogs who can 𝚑elp- the DYNOMITE COLLIE COVEN are totally radical witches, who can cast spells and stuff. Maybe that'll save you?

It's te𝔞time, but before grabbing at these wriggly teacups, you've gotta say gra⒞e. Okay, GRACE DONE- GRAPPLE TEA. C'mere, you slippery little porcelain bastard!

Maybe none of this nonsense will help, but you have a better idea. There are NO FEWER FARMERS than there used to b𝖊, so maybe some down-home rural wisdom is the key to this predicament.

Continued | 37 | 19

#lost in hearts #an ''E-Bruno'' is Bruno but electronic. like e-mail.#i really thought this would be a cute little side project i'd be done with in a month! ha ha ha ha ha ha

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nightingale-ghost-writer · 2 years ago

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Your Wildest Dreams [Soap x Fem!Reader]

Summary: In a mission gone wrong, you and Soap have to hole up in a safehouse, trying to stay warm during the cold Russian winter

Author’s Note: Not me thirsting after Soap for 5.1K words instead of finishing the companion piece I started for Maybe… also, my first ever shot at writing reader-insert! Anyway, here’s a really plot-lacking, self-serving piece for anyone interested

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or events from Modern Warfare

Warnings: Language, canon-typical violence, extremely suggestive, borderline smutty? No actual explicit smut, but let’s call it NSFW to be safe

Shrike /SHrīk/ noun

a songbird with a strong sharply hooked bill, often impaling its prey of small birds, lizards, and insects on thorns

a 10-foot (3-meter), 400-pound (180-kilogram) U.S. air-to-ground missile designed to destroy missile batteries by homing in on their radar emissions

Icy water enveloped you. Pinpricks instantly broke out under your skin, dancing through your blood and your bones. For a blessed moment, your mind went blank. Then, survival instinct kicked in. You kicked your already numbing legs as hard as you could, launching yourself back toward the night sky. Just as you thought your lungs might burst, you broke the surface, gulping in the crisp mountain air. It burned the back of your throat as you bobbed in the current, trying to get your bearings.

What should have been an hour-long intel collection mission had gone to shit in less than a minute.

You and Soap had been dispatched to a safehouse of Makarov’s in the Russian countryside to gather intel. You were anxious- excited to be out with Soap, nervous about the actual infiltration. Soap’s signature flirting melted that anxiety quickly. It was one of the reasons you enjoyed missions with him so much… and one of the reasons you got so flustered around him.

Tensions with Russia were high, so rather than sending a full team, the pair of you had been dropped off by helo three clicks from the site. You’d go in, get the intel, get to the safehouse, and wait for evac. Barring any immediate danger, you’d be holed up there overnight, hiking out early the next morning to be picked up. Price was unhappy about sending you in without comms or backup, but Laswell was concerned with radio traffic and her sources had told her it would be empty.

Laswell’s sources had been wrong.

You’d taken a long, cold hike up the frozen mountainside to a deteriorating stone building that might at one time have been a castle, but was now little more than half-crumbled walls and hastily built wooden shacks. There had been no indicators that anything was amiss- no footprints in the snow, no pings on Soap’s heartbeat sensor, no noise. Laswell’s intel had seemed good.

Then you’d opened the door to one of the shacks and been met with a full squad of soldiers. They clearly hadn’t been expecting you, and you had the distinct advantage. Before they could react, you’d grabbed the nearest soldier, using him as a human shield while you put him in a headlock. Soap had sprung past you, shooting two others before ducking behind a desk. An overeager and overconfident soldier had fired several shots at you, nearly grazing your arm, but killing his teammate in the process. Soap had lunged at him, baring him to the ground and stabbing a combat knife deep into his throat.

The three remaining soldiers raised their weapons, shouting to each other. You’d killed one with a well-placed throwing knife as you threw yourself behind a table and watched in horror as another launched himself at Soap. You raised your gun, but there was no clean shot with them grappling as they were. Then, you were blindsided by the last soldier. He leapt at you as you tried to line up a shot on his teammate, knocking your gun to the ground and grabbing one of your wrists.

Instinct took over as you wrestled, and before you knew what was happening, you and your attacker were flying through the nearby window. You both rolled down a steep, snowy hill toward a frothing river, each trying to get the upper hand. Before either of you could, you went straight into the icy river, sinking instantly. Luckily, you recovered first.

After taking a moment to breathe, you dove back underwater, looking around for your attacker. He was close enough to reach out and touch, back to you as he tried to get to the surface for a breath of air. You swam toward him, wrapped an arm around his shoulders to hoist yourself up, and stabbed him. Once in the neck, once in the ribs, and then once in the chest for good measure. His body had gone limp at the first thrust, but you couldn’t be too safe.

As soon as his body floated out of your arms, you realized the bigger issue- the current, and the cold. You were already being dragged downstream, the tide splashing over your head and threatening to pull you back under. You swam for the bank, but your progress was minimal. Your muscles were already starting to freeze up. You looked around frantically, desperate for something to hold onto. Just as your fingers met with a sharp rock, you heard Soap’s voice calling your name.

You looked up to see him scrambling down the hill, sliding on snow and loose bits of shale. Blood dripped from his temple and he seemed to be cradling his arm to his chest. You tried to pull yourself out of the water to meet him on the banks, but your muscles refused to work. The icy water was doing its work and you could feel your body beginning to shut down.

“Soap,” you called weakly. He had almost reached you. “I can’t move.”

He waded waist deep into the water, reaching out for you with the arm that wasn’t held carefully to his side. “‘S alright, hen, I’ve got you. Take my hand.” You shakily, slowly, tried to reach for him, barely managing to brush the tips of your fingers against his, and he managed to lean just a bit further out to wrap his hand around yours. He tugged you toward him, and after a moment, was pulling you into his side. “You’re freezing, Shrike,” he murmured, rubbing your arm for a moment. You were shivering violently, barely able to move.

“I am,” you said, teeth chattering. “Your head.” Soap waved you off as he looked around, gaze settling in the direction of the town where you were supposed to wait for evac.

“The intel-”

Soap cut you off, shaking his head. “Forget the intel. Price said if anything went wrong, we get to the safehouse.” His eyes scanned your body, looking for any injuries, as his hand rubbed over your arms. “Are you okay? Can you make it back to town?” You nodded, your violent shaking making it nearly impossible to tell. You reached for his wrist, pressing on it gently. You were no medic, but it didn’t feel broken to you.

You held his wrist with one hand as the other reached up to wipe the blood from his temple. “You okay?” you asked. He winced as you wiped at the blood, but nodded. You breathed a sigh of relief when only a shallow cut was visible.

“Just a sprain,” he said. He pulled his wrist carefully from your grip and unzipped his jacket, pulling it off.

“W-what are you-”

“You need it more than me,” he said. He walked around behind you, tucking you into the jacket before zipping you up in it.

“You’ll freeze,” you protested. Soap only shook his head, offering a lopsided smile.

“I’ll be fine. Let’s go.”

You were afraid your legs would refuse to move, but were so grateful when they didn’t. The warmth that bloomed in your chest at Soap’s sacrifice warmed you more than the jacket itself, although it did keep out the worst of the biting wind. You both trudged through the snow toward the village, teeth chattering and bone-cold. You walked in relative quiet, broken only by Soap’s soft inquiries.

“How’re you holding up, hen?”

“I can’t feel my toes, Soap.” “Hang in there, Shrike. We’re almost to the safehouse.”

As the town came into view, your vision began to swim. You’d been given the safehouse address. Now you just had to find it so you could lie down and bundle up until Price could send someone to get you.

You breathed a sigh of relief as Soap found the house, prying off one of the address numbers to reveal a key. He opened the door, revealing a tiny studio. It took less than a minute to clear- the only room with a door was the bathroom. While Soap dug out the radio system hidden under the sink, you turned the heater on full blast and looked for blankets. You found a pile in a cupboard, dropped them onto the foot of the bed, and headed toward the kitchen in search of a kettle to heat some water.

You only vaguely heard Soap talking to Price through the fog in your mind, something about getting some rest and pickup in the morning. Then, very suddenly, you found yourself looking up at the ceiling, wondering when you’d stopped shivering.

“Shrike? Shite!” You only realized you’d fallen when Soap pulled you upright. “Shrike?” He raised one hand to your neck, feeling for your pulse. He cursed under his breath, muttering in an unintelligibly thick Scottish accent as he hauled you up against his chest. You were vaguely aware of being carried into the small bathroom and deposited on the countertop there. You squeezed your eyes shut, fighting to stay awake. You were suddenly so sleepy.

You opened your eyes when you heard a squelching sound, freezing as you watched Soap strip off his clothes. You’d seen him without a shirt, but only in passing in the halls on base. Never this close, and never with no one around to check your gaze. Nevertheless, you’d memorized his scars the last time you saw his bare chest. He had some new ones since then. You stared at his rippling muscles as he unbuttoned his pants, peeling the wet material off his toned legs, leaving him standing in front of you in nothing but his dog tags and boxers. You tried not to stare at the outline you could see in the fabric as he took one step toward you to stand between your legs. Then his hands were on his jacket, the one you were wearing, pulling the zipper down and your arms out of it.

“Stay with me, Shrike,” he murmured. His hands shook as he unbuckled your tac vest and pulled it off. You raised your arms as he pulled up your hoodie, then your shirt, leaving you i n just a sports bra. You let your own hands rest on his chest as you lowered them.

You giggled, tracing patterns across his pecs and down his ribs. His muscles jumped under your fingertips. “What are you doing, Johnny?”

His cheeks reddened as he glanced up, dutifully keeping his eyes on the task at hand as he hastily pulled off your boots and pants.

“I’m trying to get you warm,” he said. “What are you doing?”

“Checking you out,” you said boldly, arching an eyebrow at him and smiling. You weren’t sure where the confidence had come from, but you’d had a crush on him since day one and you’d be damned if you didn’t make the most of this opportunity. He had just reached up to grip your hips and he faltered for a moment before pulling you down off the counter. He turned you around, walking you toward the bed with his hands on your waist until pulling back the covers. Soap sat, pulling you down between his legs and back against his chest. He pulled up the extra blankets, wrapping them around both of your shoulders. You giggled again, wiggling back against him as his arms wound around you. You couldn’t tell whether he shuddered or whether it was just his shivering. You’d started to shiver again, yourself.

“Stay with me,” he repeated. His body trembled around you, proof that he probably should have kept his jacket after all. His hands rubbed your shoulders, occasionally tracing the straps of your sports bra, and he curled his legs up, bringing yours with them. His knees held yours together and he shifted one arm down to circle your waist, keeping your back pressed to his chest and your hips connected. One hand brushed your hip and he tilted his head so that his chin rested in the crook of your shoulder. His hold on you was tight, but reassuring. You savored the way you fit perfectly in his embrace.

Your bare skin felt numb, even under the pile of blankets.

Everywhere Soap’s skin touched felt scalded.

“You’re so hot,” you murmured.

You felt as much as heard when Soap chuckled low in his chest. “I’m actually freezing.” His voice shook when he spoke.

You leaned your head back on his shoulder, turning so that your cheek touched his. “You know that’s not what I meant,” you whispered.

“I know,” he smiled, eyes fixed on some point across the room. “I’m just trying to save you from saying things you don’t mean, so you don’t regret them later.”

When you cocked your head at him, shifting in his arms to better face him, his smile dropped. “C’mon, Shrike, don’t make this any harder than it already is.” Hope flared in your chest like a bonfire. Your mind ran through all the possibilities of that statement, and every one of them suggested attraction to your lovesick mind. You stared blankly at him and he tipped his head back against the headboard, heaving a sigh. “I’m sure Gaz would be none too pleased if I made a move on you when you were only flirting because of hypothermia.”

“Gaz..?” You didn’t understand what Gaz had to do with Soap making a move on you, and you were too confused to focus on either the fact that he said that he might, or that he had just admitted he knew you were flirting with him. Your heart beat wildly in your chest. You barely dared to breathe.

Soap’s face flamed as he looked away. He had stopped shivering so badly, but his voice still shook a bit when he spoke. “You and Gaz. I know you’re… well, something. I’d never-”

You hadn’t imagined it. Your snort cut him off. “Gaz and I are friends, that’s it.” Now it was Soap’s turn to stare blankly. You fought to speak normally, not with the giddy optimism you felt. “Remember the day Price introduced me to you all? Gaz was the first one to shake my hand, and then he showed me around base? I knew right off the bat that Ghost didn’t trust me and I thought you wouldn’t either, since you two were clearly so close.”

That brought a smile out of Soap. As much as Ghost tried to play it off, the two had definitely become good friends over their time working together. Soap loved to flaunt his position as the resident boogeyman’s right hand, to anyone who would listen. But mostly to the boogeyman himself.

You turned again, snuggling closer into his hold. His arms tightened around you, almost imperceptibly. “Anyway, yeah- Gaz was my first friend. But he’s just my friend. Nothing more than that. You and Ghost are Batman and Robin, Gaz and I are Mario and Luigi.” Soap barked a laugh, and you grinned.

When his cold nose nudged behind your ear, you couldn’t even pretend your shudder was from the cold. You gathered the last of your courage, waning with the arctic chill in your bones, but bolstered by his near-confession. “So tell me, Sergeant.” You’d lowered your voice, turning up all the charm you possessed. “What am I making ‘harder than it needs to be’?” Soap froze, and panic washed over you like water as cold as the river you’d come out of. He hadn’t been confessing anything. It had been nothing more than his usual firefight flirting, harmless and silly and just a little cocky and oh-so-hot and why would you ever think he could actually be interested in you and-

Soap flipped you, one arm around your waist as he lay between your legs, propped up by the elbow next to your shoulder. Before your mind could catch up with what was happening, he leaned down, lips a hairs’ breadth from yours, and hesitated. It was the longest and shortest second of your life. You could feel his warm breath on your parted lips as his eyes scanned your face, looking for any sign of hesitation. You half expected him to lean back up, all mischievous smile and twinkling eyes, and tease you. He knew. He knew how you felt and he was going to mock you for it. Then he leaned down, eyes fluttering shut. His lips brushed yours softly, barely touching, and your mind went blessedly quiet. Your body responded of its own accord; your knees came up, framing his waist and squeezing lightly; one hand went to his bicep, lightly grasping there; the other slid to the back of his neck.

You pulled him closer.

The kiss turned feral in a heartbeat.

The arm around your waist tightened, pulling you half up off the bed, as he let more of his body weight rest against you. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, begging for entrance. You happily gave it. Your tongues slid together, fighting for dominance as you each tried to deepen the kiss even more. You raised a leg, wrapping it around his waist, and he groaned your name into your mouth. When you pulled on his mohawk, his head fell to your neck as he sucked softly on your collarbone.

“Johnny,” you breathed. He swore, lifting his head to kiss you again. He pulled his arm out from under you, running a warm hand across your bare skin from your hip to the back of your knee where it wrapped around him, before wrenching you up against him. You gasped at what you felt. If you’d had any doubt before, there was none now- Johnny was packing. You could feel the heat of him through both your underwear and his boxers. Time seemed to slow as he rocked gently against you, pressing his forehead to yours as your hands cradled the back of his head. He was panting, pressing light kisses against your face. He dropped his head to your shoulder, tucking his face into your neck. He seemed to be steeling himself, trying desperately not to move.

“Not kissing you,” he whispered. It took you a moment to think through the haze of lust and realize he was answering your earlier question. “What am I making harder than it needs to be?” “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

Some of your earlier boldness had returned, shored up by his clear physical response. “Only that?” you whispered back.

The groan of your name on his lips was the single most beautiful thing you’d ever heard.

“What?” you teased. “That’s all you want?”

He tugged at the back of your knee again, pressing you against himself. You both stifled moans. “You know damn well that’s not all I want. I want you. All of you.” He turned his head, ghosting his lips against your cheek. “I’ve wanted all of you from the moment you asked me why a ghost would need soap.”

You started, turning his head with your hands so you could look into his eyes. “That’s the first thing I ever said to you.” He nodded, gaze unflinching. His eyes smoldered, but there was a softness in them you’d only seen a handful of times over the years. When your brother joined the military, following in your footsteps. When your best friend’s husband cheated on her. When your mother died. Any time you’d cried in his arms.

“T-that was the day we first met,” you stuttered out. Again, he nodded solemnly. He turned his head in your hands, kissing your palm.

“I knew right away,” he whispered. Soap had laughed, a fully belly laugh, and clapped you on the back. Ghost had rolled his eyes, and you’d hoped his reservations about you would fade. Not only so you could get closer to the devilishly handsome, charming Sargeant who followed his every step. When you didn’t say anything, he released your leg, mumbling apologies and sitting back on his heels. The loss of his body weight and heat, along with the blankets, made you shiver all over again. Johnny didn’t see it- he was running his hands over his face, head hanging. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… I had no right, please forgive me-”

You reached out a hand, grasping his wrist to stop him from retreating any further. “Forgive you for what?” you asked softly. His face was pained as he struggled to hold your stare.

“For taking advantage,” he began. But you shook your head, reaching out your other hand to touch his cheek. You didn’t think he even realized that he leaned into your touch.

“You didn’t take advantage of anything.” You scooted forward on your knees, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. You leaned up, kissing along his jaw, before licking a stripe of skin just behind his ear. He trembled under your touch as you ran a hand down his arm and pressed yourself against him. “I want you, too. So you should take me.”

“Steamin’-,” Soap groaned your name. “You can’t just say that to me,” he whined, breathless. His fists were clenched, eyes squeezed shut as your fingertips skimmed his skin.

“And why’s that?” you teased. You were sure that nothing could ever match the rush you were getting from his reactions to you.

“Because,” he ground out. He’d lost the fight to keep his hands off and they now rested on your hips, intermittently squeezing the flesh and hovering. His pupils were blown, nearly eclipsing his irises. You’d never seen hunger like that in your life and it set you on fire. “If I start with you, I won’t be able to stop.” His voice was lower, hoarse. Desperate.

You scooted forward until your knees touched his, pressing as much of your body against his as you could. His entire body quivered in his struggle not to devour you whole. You dragged your lips up the column of his throat, pausing when they brushed the shell of his ear. “Then I suggest, Sergeant, that you don’t stop.”

Johnny didn’t need to be told twice.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You woke up to a soft thudding sound in your ear. You were so comfortable that you didn’t want to move, but then you remembered you were on the field. Your head snapped up, looking around the tiny room. The thudding had stopped, and when you looked down, you realized why.

You’d been sleeping with your head on Johnny’s chest, his heartbeat in your ear. His arms were still wrapped tightly around you, face turned toward yours. He looked younger asleep. No worry lines creased his handsome face, and his brows were relaxed instead of their usual serious, lowered state. His lips were just slightly parted, breath softly fanning across your shoulder.

The night came back to you in one big wave. Kissing Johnny, straddling him, holding him close between your legs, his mouth on your neck, your mouth on his shoulder, your name on his tongue, being pressed to the wall, the stretch of him, and both of your hands seemingly everywhere at once. You ached everywhere in the most delicious way. Even your throat was sore from moaning his name over and over and over again as he made good on his promise that his mouth was good for more than just talk.

Your cheeks flushed remembering.

As if sensing your racing heart and thoughts, Johnny stirred. His arms tightened around you, pulling you nearly on top of him as his eyes fluttered open. He smiled when his eyes settled on you, slow and lazy.

“I thought I dreamed all of that,” he said softly. His voice was husky with sleep, accent thicker than normal, eyes soft as he stroked your cheek with the back of his hand.

You quickly weighed whether or not you were prepared to deal with the cockiness that would come with your next statement. “Certainly good enough to be a dream,” you whispered. The grin that split Johnny’s face was instant and radiant.

“Oh, aye?” he asked. “Would you say it’s everything you’d dreamed of?”

“I love you,” he’d gasped, holding the back of your head to his shoulder as you fell apart for what must have been the tenth or hundredth time. “I love you,” he’d repeated as he lost control, trembling violently in you and in your arms. “Oh, God, I love you,” he’d whispered as you cried out his name and carried him in a vice grip right over the edge with you. You’d never dared to confront your feelings for him too deeply, refusing to dig beneath the surface of the crush you’d harbored for him. In all your wildest dreams, you’d never begun to imagine him putting to words what you felt- and never in the most intimate moment of your life.

“Better than my dreams,” you mumbled, turning your head away from his and pressing your cheek to his chest. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a purple bruise you’d sucked into his shoulder. You winced, raising your head to apologize, but before you could even open your mouth, Johnny turned your head and kissed you softly. You kissed him back, and then smirked as a thought crossed your mind. “Dream of me often, then?” you asked.

Johnny’s eyes darkened as he pulled you down for a searing kiss. “Every night,” he whispered. You shuddered. You could already feel his body responding beneath you as you kissed him again, smiling to yourself when he groaned. He reached for the tiny bedside table, muttering about a clock, and found the alarm there.

He turned a wicked grin toward you. “We’ve got time for round two.”

“Round two?” you shrieked. Johnny snickered as he lifted you up, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist. Round five was no less impressive than the first four, in no small part due to the added feat of Johnny holding you up against the cold shower wall while the hot water beat down on you both.

“I can’t believe,” he’d panted “That we could have been doing this all this time.”

“You should scold Gaz for getting in your way,” you’d panted back. Johnny had practically growled at that, picking up his pace.

“I’m about to scold you for saying another man’s name while I’m inside you.”

He came undone the moment you moaned his name in his ear, pulling you off the ledge with him.

By the time you’d actually managed to get clean, your clothes had miraculously dried despite laying crumpled on the tile floor all night. You were thankful as you both stepped out into the flurry of wind and snow to trudge up the hillside toward the evac point. You hiked in companionable silence, only breaking it once you could see the ridge where you’d be picked up.

“How’s your wrist?” you asked. You’d been worried about it all night, but Johnny either hadn’t been in pain or hadn’t been in enough pain to pay it any mind.

“It’ll be fine,” he answered, smiling at you over his shoulder. “How’s your… you?” You both snickered at that.

“It’ll be fine,” you parroted. Your Scottish accent was horrible, but Johnny beamed at it all the same. You were about to pull yourself up by a rock when he grabbed your wrist, nudging you until your back touched a tree. He tilted your chin up with his knuckles, lowering his head slowly to kiss you tenderly. You sighed into the kiss, reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, and he held you close by your waist. His lips tugged at yours softly, lightly dragging your bottom lip between his teeth before pulling back to look at you intensely. He seemed to be trying to memorize every inch of your face.

“We can’t tell anyone, can we?” you whispered.

For a long moment, Johnny was silent. When he finally answered, his voice was low. Sorrowful. “I don’t know,” he said.

You nodded, pasting a smile on your face even as your heart throbbed. “That’s okay. We’ll figure something out.”

He smiled back. “Yeah, we will.” Your smile felt a little more genuine after that. You trekked the last bit up the hill, and by the time you reached the top, you could hear the whir of the chopper. You shared one last longing look at each other from a respectable distance before the bird touched down. When the door opened, Ghost’s skull plate greeted you.

“You guys injured?” he shouted. You both shook your heads, clambering in and strapping yourselves into harnesses on opposite sides of the chopper. Ghost slammed the door, strapping himself in again on your side.

He stared at Soap, some look you couldn’t quite read. When you glanced to Johnny, his eyebrow was raised at his partner.

“You look like you haven’t slept in a week,” Ghost rumbled.

Soap looked to you, then back to his friend. He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “We didn’t get much rest- too cold,” he said evenly. If you didn’t know it was a lie, you’d have believed him. But something in the way Ghost held his stare told you that he didn’t. He could read everyone like a book, but especially Johnny. You needn’t have worried, though. Soap started right in on recapping the mission for his friend, chattering away as he always did, and you watched as Ghost’s shoulders relaxed the tiniest bit while he listened. His gaze flicked to you every so often, and you added to the tale where you saw fit. Ghost took your words as truth- he trusted you now, years later, after you’d proven yourself to him and the rest of the team.

You smiled to yourself. It would be good to see the rest of the team, to be back on base, in the comfort of your own bed… and you were sure Soap would find his way there, too.

#john soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap #john soap mactavish x reader #cod mwii #nightingale writes

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happy-beeeps · 1 year ago

Text

Missed Communication

accidentally shadowed my last fic so I’m writing through the pain😭 nothing better to heal it than this beautiful man.

prompt from @promptsforthestrugglingauthor !!!

pairing: Poe x mandalorian!reader

WC: 1.5k

Warnings: suggestive content, but nothing explicit! Canon typical violence and some language.

Summary: Poe attempts to confess his feelings. What he doesn’t anticipate is the blaster fire he gets in response.

"I didn't say I don't love you!"

There’s blaster fire whizzing past your head in dazzling streaks of red and green, and you can barely hear the response Poe yells at your back.

"Well you certainly didn't say it back!" You turn just far enough to see him shift his weight and spin slightly backwards, sending a shot square at the chest of one of the taller troopers quickly gaining on you.

“This isn’t really a great time!”

“I was trying to be romantic, you know, confess my love to you right before we die! But no, maker forbid you let me die happy!”

“We aren’t going to die,” you hiss, tapping the side of your helmet to attempt to get the scanners to work. A shot that ricocheted off your bucket earlier had the systems acting haywire, and right now you needed a place to lay low.

Poe has caught up beside you, feet slapping against the clay roads of whatever city you’re in, Er’Kit isn’t the largest system, and you can’t help but feel his huffing is only half from the strain of running.

This wasn’t really supposed to be a huge mission. An old contact had simply arranged an exchange of information (which was largely outdated) and you and Poe had been assigned to basically pick it up and bring it back to base. His X-Wing was still waiting for one more part to be fully functional and he figured joining you on the small ground missions you were now running was better than office work.

Things were going fine until, in an attempt to haggle down the price of a scarf he had wanted with a street vendor, he caught the attention of the small strolling squad of Stormtroopers in the square.

That’s how you ended up here, with shots bouncing off your armor and barely grazing his head.

“I thought we really had a good thing going, you know? We stopped hating each other, we makeout, we’ve fuc-”

“Poe, I mean it.” You grit, turning and firing a shot towards the troopers. It lands, obviously, and the number of troopers has now been reduced by two. They must not have known Poe was coming on this mission, to send such a small squad.

He ignores you, if he even hears you, and is attempting to coordinate a pickup with Finn on his comms. Finn’s voice comes out scraggly and unclear, and it becomes even more evident that the two of you are completely on your own in this mission.

“Kriff, shit.” You mumble, opening up your vambrace and attempting to run a diagnostic on anything.

“Are you done playing?” Poe snipes, but his words lack the venom he attempts to throw at you. You can tell he’s hurt, emotionally and potentially physically, and you almost halt at the sudden strike it sends to your chest. It’s not that you don’t love Poe, in fact you most certainly do, but the last thing you need is an exclamation of love that he’s only saying out of fear.

You move your head to say something until a chime on your arm distracts you. The thrusters in your Phoenix are back on. You know realistically it can’t hold both of you, at least not for long, but you don’t need long. What you need is a boost.

“What are you thinking about?” The panic is palpable, and you realize Poe has been dodging behind your beskar clad body as the shots from the Stromtroopers, shockingly, make their mark.

“I need you to trust me.”

“Do I even have a choice?”

He didn’t, and he knew that. A long outstretched piece of metal poked out from the top of one of the buildings you ran past, and you angled your arm up to send your grappling hook around it. Poe grabbed your torso and the metal wire launched the two of you towards the air. Using the boost, you fired your jetpack and managed to fly up, up, and over a block of buildings. The shots of the troopers died out, and you did your best to land the two of you in a decently secluded block, admittedly not far from where you just were.

Ground met your feet a little roughly, but Poe let go of you quickly before running halfway down the alley and working open a door, before ducking his head in. “This one’s clear.”

You follow him into the small room There’s no windows to the alley and the door, while old, is thick. Instead of windows, small carved out pieces of clay along the front and back walls near the ceiling send beams of warm, bright light into the box of a place.

“It used to be someone’s home.” He states, walking towards one of the overturned, dusty stools and pulling it up right, tentatively putting a hand on it before trusting it with his whole weight.

“How can you be sure?”

He gestures towards the windows, “The Er’kit use small windows for light during the day, that way their homes can stay cool but they don’t need to use excess energy.” He sighs, his head drooping in his hands. You’re both exhausted, and Poe seems to be in some degree of distress.

You walk towards him, kneeling between his legs and placing a hand on his cheek. He looks up at you, brown eyes meeting yours, and you toy with one of the floppy curls that tickles your finger. “You’re pretty smart flyboy.”

He doesn’t say anything, just offers a hmph in response and a soft, sad smile. Your run your hand down from his cheek, over his shoulder and arm when you notice the red spot beneath his beige tunic.

“You’re bleeding.”

“It’s a scratch.”

“It’s really… not.” It’s nothing fatal, but a cut this deep shouldn’t be exposed to the sand and air of the system. You grab the scarf from around his neck and he groans, his head picking up and dropping back dramatically.

“Maker forbid I get to keep that scarf.”

You roll your eyes as you wrap it tightly around his arm, working quickly as possible to minimize his discomfort. Satisfied with your work, you pat his arm softly and scooch closer between his legs, so your torso is pressing against him.

“Did you mean it?”

Poe’s brows furrow a bit, as if he has no idea what you could be talking about, “Mean what?”

“Do you love me?”

He scoffs, as if you’ve just asked him something inconceivably simple, like if BB8 was the world's cutest droid, or if Rose makes the best ration cocktails. “I’ve been in love with you basically since the moment we met, figured it was kind of obvious.”

Your heart flutters, chest blooming with warmth as you stretch your hand up to stroke his cheek again. Poe has the softest eyes, big and brown, and you could get lost in them. In fact, you’re not certain you ever want to leave this tiny house, you’re going to live here forever, in this moment. You’ve been scared of a lot with him—scared to lose him, scared of what it means to be with him. You know at the end of the day, he’s it. There will never be anything else like him.

And honestly, you wouldn’t want it anyways.

“I absolutely love you, Poe,” you whisper, fighting the fear of loss, the fear of rejection, grounding yourself in his big brown eyes.

You can practically hear his voice catch in his throat as he smiles, his eyes squeezing shut. He turns his head to kiss the hand that’s currently resting on his cheek, and picks up his uninjured arm and reaches to hold your head. “Thank fuck. I wasn’t prepared to have to tell BB8 why mom doesn’t talk to dad anymore.”

You smack his shoulder lightly, and he laughs into it, easy and clear. Everything with him is easy and clear. You aren’t sure why you expected anything else.

Poe is quick, even injured, and he pulls you close to him and barely gives you a moment to catch a breath before he kisses you. That’s another thing about Poe, you swear you could kiss him for the rest of your life—literally, this man is intoxicating.

The kiss is slow, sweet, but it builds quickly. Quicker than you were expecting. In a moment he’s standing, pulling you up as he goes. Poe’s hands are everywhere, your hair, your waist, as he walks you towards a wall, your back pressed against the smooth stones.

“Love you s’much angel, you’re s’perfect, love you so much, want you so bad.”

Honestly? You’re about to go through with it, whispering sweet nothings back in his ear, fumbling with the buttons on his pants.

Your hand brushes something in his pocket and suddenly, the comm crackles to life, the room now full of Finn’s frantic voice.

“Poe? We’ve got your coordinates, sending you a clear path out now.”

The path comes through on your vambrace, and it’s not a far walk. Poe looks it over, then looks at you, eyes gleaming.

“Copy that, we’ll be at the rendezvous in twenty.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him, running a hand through his hair, “they’re just at the edge of town, it won’t even take us ten minutes to walk there?”

He grins, wicked and wonderful and so him, “Sure, thought I’d buy us some time.”

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron #poe x reader #poe x you #poe dameron fic #sw Poe dameron #Poe dameron fluff #prompts!#star wars fanfiction #star wars fic #sequels era fic

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ganondoodle · 1 year ago

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totk rewritten (for me, specifically)

since i dont have time to get to drawing it right away AND im worried people might take this the wrong way, i thought i could write out some bullet points about my rewrite of totk (meant as a fix FOR ME not saying its inherently better) to give you a better idea on what im going for:

the core structure largely remains the same, the biggest change is no time travel, thus making zelda your travel companion, and zonau tech being lagerly gone/broken with shiekah tech instead

it is not shown but said in dialog that shiekah tech, such as the ancient furnaces, shrines and towers are either turning off or have flickering power supply and purah having calculated that all their connections point towards beneath hyrule castle

game starts pretty much the same as real totk, most zonau ruins are so withered away that they are barely recognizable and the further you get down theres more and more shiekah tech pipes and occasional a miasma vein, some pipes are broken and spill miasma, others flicker

instead of the room with the wall carvings theres one with old ancient shiekah research remains, old broken tech and prototypes you dont what their purpose was, all documents are too withered to read but zelda finds one that was sealed in a container and takes it with her (she got a backpack now)

theres a structure similar to the bed thingy of the shrine of life from botw but its working in reverse; within it is sealed ganondorf (i gotta work out the details around it still)

(details still missing) it breaks and zelda takes the enigma stone but doesnt touch it directly and puts it within a sealed container (you know kinda like you should do with soemthing you have no idea of what it is and was alsO LOCATED ON A CORPSE)

ganondorf isnt the elegantly talking villain type in this version but more of a mess, talking in different languages both modern and ancient but you cant make out any clear sentences, struggeling with suddendly being awake and half alive after spending thousands of years in an agonizing limbo, having witnessed every second of the passage of time yet also it feeling like everything just happened all at the same time

the ground breaks as he recognizes zelda (bc of her fighting calamity ganon in botw) but also not really, still sees her as a threat (also bc of the enigma stone in the container she still has in her hand) attacks her, link deflects with the master sword, it breaks and damages his arm, zelda drops her torch and pulls link away towards where they came in from and both run as the caves fill up with miasma like a flood with arms starting to reach after them while they both run back through the tunnels (creepy chase sequence anyone?)

cataclysm happens (ground breaks, miasma bursts out of the ground, especially where shrines and towers where since they were still connected to the pipelines) ground shifts massively in some places giving alot of the map a whole new structure; all shiekah tech that was not independent stops working due to power loss

links arm is amputated since otherwise the miasma would spread to his whole body; purah, robbie and zelda work out a prosthetic arm prototype to give to link (protoype at first will be upgraded at halfway point of the game) that can switch between multiple modes, like a hand to hold normal items or a weapon that isnt crafted, and a fusing ability (though maybe limited in the prototype) that lets you make weapons similar to the weapon fusing in canon totk (potential upgrades including an extendable guardian arm that doesnt break, grapple hook anyone??, also the ability to build stuff out of shiekah tech parts, not glue needed you actually screw it together, maybe zelda even helps)

now you are given free roam of hyrule, the goal is to explore and find what has changed and check on people, see what the underground has, new monsters have spawned etc.

zelda is your companion the whole time, she can use the shiekah stone/purah pad to analyze enemies for you, she also carries at least a dagger for her own self defense but doesnt contribute much to the fight (subject to change maybe), you can talk to her anytime and she usually has something to comment on depending on where you are or what you just did, can give you tips and advice IF ASKED FOR IT, when you discover ancient ruins, whether zonau or shiekah, she can either decipher it for you or take photos for later to find out more about everything that has happend and what it means, she also takes part in conversations when you talk to someone, her outfit changes with yours (meaning when you wear the tingle set she wears it too, opens up alot of funny interactions njfkdk)

purah has built new towers but they function different (still working on the details) mainly that they function independent from the energy source in hyrule castle

there are floating islands but they are bigger and in more connected clusters, when reaching them its ancient withered ruins that the ancient shiekah built support around (like the platform used by monk miz kyoshia) to keep them afloat; there are building like observatories and research labs, but all very overgrown due to being up there for so long, theres a titan prototype on one of the islands, its shaped like a whale and zelda deciphers it was called vah narisha (reference to the whale deity in skyward sword) (i havent decided yet if its fully broken and just a big piece of enviroment to explore or half functioning floating around, or maybe first broken but later half repaired so it can fly around at least giving you an easier way to reach other island, you cant steer it tho) some of them are falling bc of energy loss but the bigger ones have independent energy sources (work in progress)

the underground has more diverse zones depending on which part of the map it is located on, there are old mines (for luminous stone) from the zonau but all is extremely withered, in each one its been mostly built over by the shiekah but there are construct remains that were clearly dissected and studied, half built shrines and towers, you can find collectibles and lore there (working on more details, but an idea was to include remains of ancient shiekah tha fled there when they were persecuted by that old king of hyrule, adding to the eery vibe)

some titans (maybe two, and the other are still on the sruface, like vah medoh) feel down during the cataclysm, broken apart or malfunctioning/ possibly being a boss as in they were used by a big cluster of miasma hands like a hermit crab uses its shell, the inside filled with eyes and different sized hands dragging itself towards you like a drowing man grabs after anything to save him)

dongos are your go to transportation here and a little different, when you call one they dig a path to you (not permanent, just so they can always spawn near you) they glow in the dark and can climb on walls (bc why not), and can point you towards the next objective/point of interest, likely where theres a high concentration of luminous stone since that is what they eat and its usually where old mining/construction sites are (still working on a replacement for light roots that are less invasive)

the rat from the trailer is a miniboss/boss you need to defeat in order to get the broken mastersword back into your possession

(im still working on how the sages work, but the idea is to incorporate their abilites for more efficient and reliable use into links shiekah prosthetic, so you can still use their abilities but only when you actually want)

(again still working on details) halfway point of the game is you trying to find out where ganondorf went, not intending to fight necessarily but just to find out more but it devolves into you fighting some sort of miasma monster (either him or some sort of manifestation he made) and you get a bunch of short memory flashes from him, all vague and a wild mess from both the time he was sealed and from the time afterwards, maybe even a perspective shift from when link was fighting dark beast ganon, but from ganons view, from zelda when she was keeping that manifestation in check, random views from the malice eyes from botw, from the blights, maybe even from the fight with the old and new champions, from the point when shiekah built their tech around him while he had to watch not able to do anything etc.)

links arm gets upgraded from prototype to a full prosthetic, opening up more fusing abilites and other things (like the grapple hook, again working on it, im open for ideas lol)

i will reblog this and add more over time if you want, but do let me know if you like it thus far, bc im still unsure if its worth the effort of working more on this QnQ

(also if you dont like just keep scrolling, i dont need to know that you hate it, it literally changes nothing but make me annoyed xD)

#ganondoodles talks #ganondoodles rewrites totk #this is the tag i will use both for written posts of this topic and when i get to drawing it .. if i get to it #zelda #totk #again this is like a fix FOR ME doesnt mean its inherently better or that you have to like it #long post

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wildcardjoey · 9 months ago

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Anita jean!

ANITAT JEAN!!!

Alright so the Little Wren AU is basically just 'Bruce manages to find Anita after she fakes her death' and she actually does become his first sidekick. She isn't a fighter, Bruce puts her under three layers of armor, and she basically fills a mage and healer role with first aid (mostly for civilians and criminals) and the virtual reality gas drug, the use of which allows batman to remain a cryptid for far longer.

Anita also takes longer to get the hang of grappling hooks because she's less coordinated than even Tim but she does get them probably not too long after Dick comes to the manner since the two can train together. Her inability to use grappling hooks when she first enters the field is why The Whirly-Bat was made, named The Hummingbird in this au because it's Anita's and was named before Dick was adopted into the family and took a bat-gimmick to every piece of equipment in the cave. Before he joined the team, Bruce and Anita were work shopping names for a lot of their stuff but hadn't come to decisions for most of them, so Dick still gets to do that, but not for Anita's Hummingbird.

Rather than the dynamic duo, this au has either a tritastic trio of Batman, Wren, and Robin, or the dynamic duo is seen as Wren and Robin, as Batman's sidekicks. When Tim ends up at the manner, Anita basically tells him he's too tactical to be Robin and gives him the Wren mantle, which she either had already left behind or was in the process of considering it. Steph ends ends up becoming his paired Robin, for much longer than Canon.

Steph initiating that plan that required Matches Malone probably still happens, but with Anita's help she's able to salvage it, but it opens up an entirely new set of problems because at that point Anita was already on the verge of discovering The Court of Owls (because their one give away was a nursery rhyme and she wanted to find out it's origin because it's her hobby) and now The Court sees the bat clan take control of the city basically in it's entirety so those two things combined make The Court release the elite talons. A temporary alliance with The League of Assassins and the timely first arrival of Cass in the city means they just barely manage to win. This is also the family's first introduction to Damian and a recently resurrected Jason is probably also there, but dressed like the rest of the assassins so he isn't recognized.

Anita herself, which is what this au is actually about, is going to be depicted as better adjusted due to not living her life since she was, like, eight alone and eventually dedicated to revenge. She has hyperfixations on birds, nursery rhymes, programming, and tech and is an excellent detective. I already mentioned she's less coordinated starting out but that doesn't mean she's weak, she'd probably be able to beat Dick in a fight when he first gets to the manor since he's at that point just a gymnast but she's been training as a martial artist for like six months at that point.

Speaking of Dick, I really look forward to writing their banter. They are going to be so sassy to each other but very protective of each other. Almost as much as they're both protective of every one younger siblings, which, and seeing some of your posts this may be disappointing, isn't going to be terribly long. Finding a way to fit every obscure batfam character in is for my other dc au, the same one that my ruleset for Claire's powers is for, but I do have Calvin, Charlie, and and Dana (Talon, Misfit, and Strike) as sure-shows for Little Wren.

Long-Term, the au's story-arc will focus on the eventual take down of The Parliament of Owls as the main antagonists, as it feels fitting for an Anita Jean focused story for previously stated Nursery Rhyme related reasons, although I do also plan for The League to be taken down due to Tim still having his globetrotting adventure and then the batfam actually capitalizing on it.

Edit for Addendum: the first paragraph makes it sound like Anita never fights, I should clarify that her role on the team does evolve as she gets older and Bruce becomes more lenient.

#little wren au #dc #anita jean #batfam #idk if i should tag everyone else but #bruce wayne #dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd #damian wayne #dana harlowe #calvin rose #charlotte gage radcliffe #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #the court of owls #the league of assassins

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midnightfox450 · 1 year ago

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Fantasy High Junior Year Pre-Trailer Predictions for archival purposes

(In order of most likely to least likely)

They retcon Fabian and Aelwyn's whole thing. I love Fabian and think he is at his best when his development is focused on other things.

Official in-universe confirmation of Riz being ace &/or aro.

A nice, happy, normal prom scene in the epilogue.

Trackerbees breakup. It's definitely likely that they're going to have a falling out given the hints we got in Boys Night but I'm rooting for a full breakup. They don't get back together again. Don't get me wrong I love lesbians (I am lesbian!!!) but we all know this is the best course of action.

More Aelwyn please!! Aelwyn hireling maybe (if that's even a thing we're doing this season)? She's pretty powerful and her and Adaine have made up so it'd be nice to see her use her powers for good.

The old librarian at Aguefort dies and Ayda starts working at the school library in her place. I am pretty anti-Ayda-reconciling-with-her-dad-&-associating-with-his-school, so I wouldn't love this turn of events. But I have to admit it'd be a very plausible way of keeping her in Elmville and I'll take any excuse for her to show up more. Also I think she should have a crystal. She would have loved the internet.

Fig, newly an archdevil, becomes a warlock patron with her fans as her followers. Has to grapple with the consequences of fame and idolization. Maybe even Gilear takes her up as a patron and gets one level of warlock so he isn't completely useless. + second puberty allegory where Fig starts developing more archdevilish features like longer horns and a tail.

More information about Ayda's previous lives, as Brennan seems to at least have a vague notion of what they were like. Maybe a flashback scene with the previous Ayda and kid Garthy. Also i wanna know what was up with the relationship with Garthy and Jawbone. Maybe when Jawbone hooked up with Garthy he had met Ayda as a baby or even the previous Ayda? I think that'd be cool.

An "And Now For Something Completely Different"-type segment where the Bad Kids need The Seven Maidens' help for whatever reason so the cast switches to T7 for an episode. I want to see the girls again and I want to see their new personalities/developments reflected in the main canon. But it'd be kind of weird for them to go back to being npcs.

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #d20 #fhjy #fantasy high junior year #the bad kids #ayda aguefort #figueroth faeth #fig faeth #really only gonna tag those two because this post is the most focused on them

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ammonitetheseaserpent · 10 months ago

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So uh

D. do you like my DD character. Ya like Q

Cause I have more. I have 3 more.

My brain fed the first two to me a few days ago, one after the other, and a third one today.

Help me.

- Serial Designation XET (pronounced ‘zhet’). She’s spiritualistic; believes in fate, life after death, and astrology (parts of it, at least). She’s def killed humans before. Also she has a grappling hook.

- Serial Designation H8. He is an ABSOLUTE goblin, and has a similar sort of trollish punk energy to Adam from HH. He’s in a squad (or duo, more accurately) w/ XET, who’s the leader. Also he has one of those really annoying-looking parrying daggers and likes using blunt-force weapons (he’s a bit sadistic).

- They have a sort of… tenuously peaceful relationship with a colony of workers; the duo will protect them from threats when the need arises, but they’re still very much threats themselves.

- They’re sort of like really close siblings; they squabble and compete but are ride-or-die.

- Also, even though Q has never formally been part of a squad, I imagine she’s met and spent time around these two at some point.

- Serial Designation BZ (also known as Byterfly). He’s a librarian in a worker colony (whether or not it’s the same one XET and H8 hang around remains to be seen). So storytime: earlier today I had an idea of making buglike designs for the canon DDs as a reference to the whole ‘float like a butterfly, sting like a bee’ thing, and later when I got the idea for BZ I originally imagined them as another standard, humanoid DD, but then I said ‘screw it, I’m doing something different’ and decided to combine my previous idea w/ this one. So now BZ’s a big, sentient drone-sized bug-bot who someone probably made back at the manor and got infected by the Solver along w/ everyone else, and now they have the stinger & wings & weapon-arms.

- Also I wanted to play w/ the idea of a DD who’s averse to killing and tries to scavenge their oil as much as possible, so. BZ gets someone to fix up his cooling system at some point and yee. now he’s a librarian. He also speaks German sometimes and has a mild German accent.

Also yee I’m currently drawing all of these

#brain please. I haven’t even finished making the official ref material for my original 6 md characters #please stop giving me mORE IDEAS-#ANSNSNSJJSISFSVSB #murder drones #murder drones ocs #md ocs #my ocs #original characters #random snippets of my day

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betustamorla · 7 months ago

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(Updated 01-07) Arkham Batman Beta reader/editor/consultant wanted

Genre: Drama, family, romance, hurt/comfort, action, slight canon divergence (in ages of the characters mainly)

Main characters: Jason and Helena

Pairings: Jason Todd/Helena Wayne (past/future), Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Tim Drake/Barbara Gordon, Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle (past)

Summary: Batman left Gotham to his proteges, no one knows if he is still alive. It's up to them to pick up the pieces, help each other, and sort their lives before big trouble threatens Earth.

Estimated length: 90,000< words.

Progress: 60,000< words.

Plan of finishing the first draft: End of July. First chapter release plan date: 31 of October

First scene sample:

This Arkham Knight was very troublesome, he was as dangerous as Batman, no, he was more dangerous than Batman, he was ready to kill, even eager to. Huntress touched her side, and a stinging pain answered her, but nothing to worry about for now. Her breathing was accelerated, her senses wired thin, her gaze fixed on the man in front of her ready to respond at his slightest movement.

"Move aside." His modified voice seemed to hiss.

"Sorry, but I don't feel like it." Of course, she had to goad him more, as if things weren't hard enough already.

"My business is with the Bat."

She felt slightly confused at his seeming reluctance to fight her, but she squashed it to the back of her mind until she could be in a safe environment to ruminate. "You're endangering a lot of people with this... business of yours. So no, I won't be moving any time soon." She said flatly.

"That's too bad." It seemed like she had reached the limit of his patience. He lunged again at her. She dodged and threw a kick to his abdomen, he blocked it with his elbow, by instinct she flipped back, it was the right thing for his fist to fly inches from her face.

Still, she knew she wouldn't win this fight, her strength lay in the careful preparation of traps and sigil of her prey, even if she was a good fighter she wasn't, well, Batman. Now that there was some distance between them she started shooting bolts towards his legs, he dodged those easily and shot his grappling gun toward the nearest building and pulled upwards.

"Oh no, you won't!" She quickly changed her bolt to an explosive one and shot to where the grappling gun had hooked. He fell again into the roof they were on, rolling to minimize the impact.

"Now you really pissed me off," He growled and charged towards her.

Again they danced in a mix of punches, kicks, and dodges before he finally gained the upper hand and slammed her against the floor, stars danced in her vision, and his hand wrapped around her neck, cutting her air supply. Helena struggled, but to no avail, as he was at least fifty pounds heavier than her, but she had tricks up her sleeve, in fact, very literally. When pulling her wrist upwards a high voltage discharge would shoot on whoever was the unfortunate recipient of its full power would end up knocked out, which in this case was the Arkham Knight. She wasn't surprised when after receiving the electrical hit, he backed off but did not faint, the armor probably was designed as hers; to withstand the worst of such dangers.

"You have some tricks don't you?" He laughed, and she didn't like the sound of it. "But I think you won't have one for this." He gripped her by the neck again and pulled out a vial, unluckily, Helena wasn't fast enough to move out of his reach. The glass shattered between his fingers, and the contents immediately volatilized and turned into a gas. She didn't have any other option but to breathe at least a little, but guessing what it was, she knew it was more than enough to make its nasty effect kick into work.

She was shoved back, falling into her back, coughing at the acrid taste the fear gas left, her heartbeat quickened when the faint blurred sound of a familiar melody started to ring in her ears followed by a voice she thought she would never hear again.

“Here again my dear Angel?” The honied voice seemed to whisper against her ear, then a chuckle, and there, looming over her was the white-masked figure with amber eyes.

“You’re dead.” She breathed and gritted her teeth.

“Of course. You killed me. Remember?” Then his hand reached for her chin and turned her face towards one side and her heart stopped and seemed to come to the back of her throat at the same time. There in a chair tied with barber wire was Jason.

“Help me!”

“Stop. Stop. Stop.”

“Just kill me already.”

“Jason!”

She nearly choked. Get a grip, Helena, this is a hallucination! She felt her suit starting to slow down her increasingly accelerating heart, she knew that the fear gas she had inhaled was but a small dose, and yet it was messing this much with her head even with the Bíos pumping through her system already. This new formula was very, very dangerous, the whispers of Jason still lingered in the background, sometimes interrupted by the explosion that was imprinted like a hot iron in her body and mind.

Then she felt the burning sensation of electrical currents run through her body to counter the other poison in her veins, the burning sensation of it made her gasp. But now she was able to take a coherent look at her opponent, he hadn't taken this opening to attack her, to end her, making her believe again that he didn't want to kill her. He was just standing there, looking at her. The knight was tense as if waiting for something, she was completely clueless at what it could be but she would use this to her advantage.

~•~•~•~

Jason watched as the gas kicked into action and she crawled away, then her breath hitched and she shook her head. Whatever it was, she didn't want to hear, she clapped her hands to her ears and closed her eyes, it would be so easy to kill her now… To put the broken body of his daughter in front of him, would break him like nothing else, he was sure. But he couldn't even bring himself to lift his gun and point at her, he didn't want to kill her, she had been- What?

It didn't matter, he had better things to do. He turned and started to walk away when he heard her breath his name.

“Jason!”

He clenched his fists, they had abandoned him to that fucking clown, they had replaced him and she had left, forgotten completely about him. But something was pulling in him to go and shake her, to tell her he was right here, that he wasn't a damned nightmarish apparition. He took in a shaky breath and cocked his head to one side, stretching his neck; an anxious tick he had developed. That was enough to strengthen his resolve to keep going on, she was just a part of his past that would disappear along the Bat. Bringing her to Scarecrow and making Bruce see his only daughter be tortured by her worst fears would be even worse than death for him.

Jason turned to her again, she was silent now but her respiration was agitated, she was very still, which was odd for someone with fear gas in their system. He walked closer, pulling his gun out. Maybe he should just blow her head up and throw her dead body in front of her father. The echoing of laughter surged in the back of his mind and the scar on his face burned like the same day the hot iron had sizzled against his skin.

The illusion broke when Helena launched herself at him, he was so unprepared that he tripped and fell on his back with her on top of him.

“Don't you ever dare to do something like that again asshole!” She hissed and punched his helmet hard enough to make his vision rattle a little. How she had fought off the effects of the gas he had no idea nor was interested to know right now, he curled his arms and then threw her off him. She rolled like a fucking cat and pulled her whip out.

“Oh fuck.” He muttered as he rolled out of the way of the crackling weapon. Maybe she was tougher to get than he had originally believed, at least she was more so than his replacement. Jason knew that whip wasn't just any normal leather thing, it seemed to be made of some metallic alignment, as if on queue the whip came down again, he dodged again though not fast enough as it graced his armor over his shoulder and the fucking plate had been sliced a piece off. Fuck, if that thing could slice off part of his armor it probably could slice his arm off as well, no wonder she hadn't used it until now. The no-killing rule was just as strictly embedded in her as her father. That thought made his anger burst.

Why? Why did they refuse to do what was needed to protect? To save people from fuckers like the Joker? If only Batman had killed the Joker the first chance he got he wouldn't had-!

He snapped and lunged at her quick enough to avoid the arch of the crackling shit and barrelled into her, she flew back at least a couple of meters landing painfully on her back. Disoriented enough to become too slow to react in time to make space between them to gain the advantage of her weapons, which were long-ranged tools, up close Jason was completely in control. He took full advantage of it, he punched her in the gut making her double over even with the armor mitigating some of the power from the hit, he didn’t pause, consumed by the red haze that felt so good to let loose. He pulled her head down to connect with his rising knee, she probably would have passed out if not for the face-guard over her forehead and eyes, Jason hit her back with his elbow making her go down.

She was wheezing for air.

“Is it hard to breathe? Don’t you feel like you’re drowning? Like some cold hand is closing around you and pulling every last bit of life in you?” He remembered how it felt, to be hit over and over again until you couldn’t even seem to make your lungs work.

She coughed and choked- No, she was laughing. She was laughing.

Had she gone mad?

“It’s not so bad, you know.” She gasped and spat at his feet.

All the burning anger seemed to die out, leaving an empty cold feeling. His arm seemed to move on its own, grasping her by the nape of her neck, he started to lift her and she struggled uselessly as she still was too winded to gather her strength or wits. They were at the edge of the ten-story department building, it was at least a 30-meter drop from there to the cold concrete below. Time seemed to freeze, he took in her smaller frame, she seemed so small and frail compared to him, she always had…

Jason! Will you wait for me?

Then he pushed her, the back of her legs hit the small barrier of the edge and then she was gone. He stood there a moment then he heard the sound of crashing metal meters underneath. His heart felt like it stopped for a second.

~•~•~•~

DM if interested/curious or repost/share if you think someone else might.

Check some of my previous works

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