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stressedoutcanary · 4 years ago

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Hold On - Jason Todd x Batgirl!Reader [PART 2]

WORD COUNT :- 2.3k

Warnings ⚠️: I don't even know if there are any...Swearing maybe?, mentions of kidnappings, actual kidnapping oh and also violence and angst :)

A/N 😋: I got lost while writing this so judge accordingly people. Also forgive me for any mistakes. I TRIED.

Part 1 , Part 3

•°•°•°•°

“JASON STOP!!!!!”, your voice echoed in the silent warehouse.

Jason stopped in his tracks as soon as he heard your voice, his mind was brimming with thoughts, questions and worst of all, emotions.

“Well, well, well, look who crawled out of her little cave”, He said smugly as he finally turned around to face you. The voice was his, you’d recognize that voice anywhere but it felt cold, devoid of emotions, hearing him like that sent a shiver up your spine. You could feel your determination slipping.

Even though you had your cowl on, Jason could still see how much his rampage was hurting you but he couldn’t stop now, not when all he had left to do was to capture Joker, beat the living shit out of that asshole and show Bruce how much of a failure Batman’s moral compass really is.

“Well? Got nothing to say now?... Why am I not surprised?”, Jason scoffed.

You took a deep breath, you were breaking down inside but you sure as hell weren’t going to let that stop you. You spoke, voice barely above a whisper, “Jason...Jay...Stop all this...Please, come home, come back to the--”

“Manor? Home? Did you hit your head (Y/N)? Why in the hell would I ever go back to a place where NOBODY GAVE A DAMN ABOUT ME, WHERE HE REPLACED ME AS IF I MEANT NOTHING?!”, Jason didn’t want to lose control of himself, not in front of you. So with visible effort he calmed himself down, took a step forward and gave you a deadpan look.

“You all left me”

Your blood boiled at that statement.

“How dare you?! We lost you! We mourned for you! I mourned for you!”

Tears welled up in your eyes, listening to him you wondered whether he truly believed the words actually coming out of his own mouth.

“The Jason I knew was a roughed up street boy who still cared when many didn't, who called Bruce out every step of the way, who had this ridiculous favoritism for bread, who had the guts to take out a tire from the fricking Batmobile”, despite the dreadful situation you smiled remembering those sweet memories.

You looked him in the eye, pleading in a way, and you spoke softly, “The Jason I knew was The Robin to my Batgirl. This-this is just not who you are Jay, not really...So can you just stop?”

He looked unfazed by your words and cocked his head to the side.

“Princess, the only way you can stop me is if you fight me, knock me down real hard, make sure that I won't get back up again. Tell me Batgirl, can you do it? Do you actually have what it takes?”, he waited for an answer he knew wasn’t coming. As expected, all he was met with was silence.

Long, Painful Silence.

With that Jason knew what he had to do, he put on his red helmet and swung out of the nearest window, you couldn't stop him, for all your big talk, you just couldn't. He was right you failed him.

•°•°

You jumped awake with a start, bolting upright and immediately regretting your subconscious decision, the throbbing pain made you clutch the back of your head with your palm and you closed your eyes again to achieve some semblance of reality as a way of grounding yourself.

‘It was just a dream (Y/N)…just...a...dream’

You tried to lie to yourself knowing deep down that it was a memory, something you have already lived through, something you regret everyday. You swallowed the lump in your throat. It felt dry and your whole body was sore. You really should've called in early and then maybe Dick would've been the one stuck in this crapy situation and not you.

Pushing past your perplexed state you got up and took in your surroundings, there were vines hanging from the open roof, a LOT of flowers and some Venus flytraps by the corner. It wouldn’t even take being a detective to figure out where you were; The Botanical Gardens.

“How the hell did I end up here”, you muttered under your breath. This was getting out of hands.

“See Pammy I told ya Girl-Bat would rise and shine by now”

“I can see that Harls”

‘Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn, just great, is nobody in Arkham these days’

The duo descended down from the open roof through one of the vines and stood in front of you. Harley looked as happy as a 10 year old about to get their favorite toy and Ivy seemed to be interested in anything and everything that did not concern you. Classic.

“Why the hell did you both kidnap me?”

You jumped forward and grabbed Harley by the collar of her dress, in retrospect it wasn't the best move but it's not like you were thinking straight at the time anyway.

A vine wrapped itself around your waist and you were tugged back by such force that you were sure there was gonna be a big bruise there tomorrow. You skidded across the floor and finally stopped when your back connected with a bench. You were just too drained to fight back so instead you just crawled up and sat on the bench with a grunt.

‘Not fighting my way out of this one so for once let’s try talking’

“Whoa, should ya really be this obnoxious when ya got a concussion?”, Harley burst your thought bubble as she looked you over.

“Wait, Did you just call me obnoxious?!”

“But don'tcha worry I am a doctor and I got a PhD”

“In psychology!”

“I will fix ya in no time”

“Are you even listening to me?”

Just like that you saw Harley leave the room to go get some medical supplies, or well at least you thought that that's what she was going to do, you turned your face towards Ivy hoping that she can fill in the blanks.

“So you both finally done babbling? And here I thought it was never going to end.”, She looked at you from where she was petting her plant, and made her way over to you, something about her seemed genuine. You got the feeling that whatever she had to say, it won't be a lie.

“Try and not mind what Harley does, she's just happy to make new friends for girls night.” She sighed before continuing, “As for your question, last night we were near the Gotham Central Park when we saw a masked man dragging your unconscious body out of a building and into a van parked in the alley, so we kil-- we took care of him and brought you here”, She shrugged as if that explains why the Poison Ivy just saved your life.

"Wait that means Red isn't here", you whispered more to yourself than to others.

“Pam is Red!”, Harley said cheerfully as she came back out nowhere with a bunch of boxes which would've made you very uneasy if your mind wasn't already preoccupied.

“What Harley means to say is that if you are trying to ask about that gun loving leather jacket vigilante who wears a red helmet, then no we don't know where he is”

Her words sunk in and yesterday's memories flashed in your mind, your eyes widened under your mask as the realization hit you like a bus.

The missing people, the creepy mannequins, the medical journals regarding surgeries, the weirdo in the white mask instead of a face, the poster of some Pretty Dolls parlor; Now it all makes sense!

“Pyg!”

"Huh?", the women in front of you almost jumped at your sudden revelation.

“Lazlo Valentin aka Professor Pyg that's the son of a bitch who is behind all this mess, he's the one who has got Red Hood And it's all my fault! Now, He might be dead already! I should've known, I-I should've figured it out quicker, I should've done something, DAMN IT!!”, you buried you face in your hands due to the building frustration within you.

“Don't be like that”, you heard Harley's voice as a hand was placed on your shoulder, she sat down on the bench next to you, you turned your head and eyed her warily, seeing nothing but concern.

“Don't give up. Clearly this Hoodie person means a lot to ya so you get off your ass and go get him, don't you Bat People always find a way”, you looked at her for a moment, then jumped up on your feet.

“Can't believe I am saying this but you are right Harley, I need go and I will find a way to save him, but before leaving I wanna know something”, you looked Ivy in the eyes as you worded your next sentence, “Why save me?”

“It was just my way of replaying you for saving Harls from that clown once”, instead of elaborating Ivy just crossed her hands over her chest waiting for you to leave. You gave her a warm smile, something they are not used to seeing, from a bat of all people.

“Thank you Pamela”

With that you were out of that detour and onto finding the path leading up to Jason.

•°•°

Somehow you reached the safe house without running into some kind of trouble, with how your day has been going, you were completely expecting something else to go wrong. Thankfully it didn't. You took out a spare comms unit, keys for your bike and some aspirin to dull the headache.

Soon you were whizzing past vehicles at full speed triying to contact anyone available at the moment.

“Come on pick up, pick up, pick up! What's the meaning of giving us an emergency button when no one picks the damn thing up”, you spoke into a dead line, wishing you could just bang your head against a wall, on second thought not a good idea.

Two minutes later the call was finally picked up and a screen appeared on the dash of your bike, it was from the batcave and you could see Dick, Damian and Bruce in sitting in front of the computer, Tim was connected from what you assumed to be the titans tower. However Dick was the first one to pop the question.

“(Y/N) what's the emergency? Are you okay? We haven't heard from you since last night”

“Look no time to explain. Jason's been taken by Pyg and I need you guys to give me a location. Now”, you said gritting your teeth as you narrowly missed a truck for the second time this evening.

“Todd's captured? *tt* his incompetence precedes that of Drake”, Damian's snarky remark made Tim snap his head up.

“Hey!”

“Boys”, Bruce's stern voice made them quiet enough for the time being, “Batgirl you are injured and your emotions can compromise the whole rescue, go back to the safe house and let us handle this”, Bruce ended the transmission and it made you angry.

'He said that they are going to handle it, that means they know where he is, so now all I have to do is to get Dick to spill it out'

You dialed Dick back, hoping he would understand what you are trying to do.

“I know why you specifically choose to call me back and No I am not letting you go head first into danger without any of us with you especially when you are compromised”, Dick's tone was stern but laced with concern.

“Dick the last time Bruce said he will handle it, Jason died, look I know what he is trying to say, I get him, I can't blame him for wanting to look after me but you have to understand I have to be the one to get him back”

“Why?!”

“Because I can't lose him again! The last thing that I said to him was that I might never forgive him! Never forgive him for something that's not even his fault! You are my only hope at getting him back, please don't take that away from me, please”, you pleaded with him as you slowed down the bike to a stop.

The line was silent for a while, the thought about saying more to him crossed your mind; what you are feeling about Jason, how much he matters to you, how you've failed him more than once, but ultimately decided against it and instead you just waited for his reply.

You deflated as soon as you realized that the line was cut but the ping of a notification caught your attention; The map to the possible location of Jason.

“Dick Grayson, you big softie”, you smirked, your bike roared as you made your way on to the free way heading fast towards the Gotham outskirts.

Meanwhile at Professor Pyg's 'supervillain headquarters' :

Jason slowly woke up, assessing the situation he quickly came to the conclusion that he messed up and now he is tied up to what seems like dentist's chair.

“Great, there has got to be a new record I've set in this family for messing up and getting kidnapped”, Jason muttered under his breath, he tried to tug at his restraints to get free but it turned out to be fruitless. A blinding light was switch on above him and he grunted due to the intensity.

“Man, what is up with you people and light?! Turn it off already!”, Jason said as he tried to adjust his eyes accordingly, when he came to, he was met with his captor himself.

Jason just stared at the man in front, moving towards him, wearing a pig mask and holding a butcher knife. He has seen enough crazy but this guy might just rival the Joker himself.

“Pyg know you broken. Pyg make you perfect”

“WHAT THE F--”

°•°•°•°•

(I like to think I am funny)

Cute little extra note: Yes it is the second time I'm leaving you guys hanging and NOPE I do not regret my decision.

Tagging: @ladyperceval

#jason todd reader insert #red hood reader insert #batgirl!reader imagine #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x y/n #red hood imagines #red hood imagine #jason todd imagines #jason todd imagine #jason todd x batgirl!reader #red hood x batgirl!reader #jason todd #red hood #batfamily

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dreamsmp-au-ideas · 4 years ago

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Not!Tubbo headcanons

Not!Tubbo au is angst for Tubbo and making Not!Tubbo as creepy as humanly possible.

So here you go guys. Have some headcanons about Not!Tubbo that I came up with on a fly and from Discord.

Putting it under Read More because holy shit is it creepy as hell.

TW for creepiness, some violence, horror elements, body horror, gaslighting, manipulation and just overall bad vibes from Not!Tubbo.

Please DM me if you would like me to add tags.

-He has no sense of Personal Space. No sense of it. He is one to get up in your face to watch you back away or go and watch you just suppress the urge to back away and watches with satisfaction as you just squirm

-He just smiles a little too wide. Enough for it to be disturbing

-Animals go and avoid Not!Tubbo most of the time because of how unnerving and wrong he is. They just go and scamper back to where they came from or go and hide behind their owner

-So no pets for Not!Tubbo. Probably for the best

-Animal hybrids also feel this sense of wrongness from Not!Tubbo. So Puffy, Ant, Techno and Fundy are some people who just look at Not!Tubbo and just want to get as far away from him as possible

-Has a habit of just hugging someone a bit too tight or even shaking someone’s hand a bit too hard. Hell the pats on the back are probably enough to leave bruises

-No one likes this and avoids Not!Tubbo’s physical contact as much as possible

-Not!Tubbo just sees everyone as actors playing their role. Does it sound like Archetype XD? Kind of. It’s just now they also have the giddy feeling of being in the middle of it all and interacting with everyone on this little play called Life

-He loves playing the role as the stressed president with too much on his shoulders. It’s the most fun he’s ever had ever since he killed that farmer and replaced their identity all that while ago

-But at the same time he loves the idea of fooling everyone and knowing that no one will call him out for all the unnerving things he does and that he stole their friend right under their noses and no one noticed

-This includes: making Fundy even more uncomfortable with him and grinning way too wide at him, hugging Tommy to the point where it starts hurting him, and just making Puffy uncomfortable with him dropping his “trauma” and opening up some old wounds she had

-He may care for Tommy, Ranboo, and Michael but that’s a very twisted way of caring. For example, he would object to Ranboo’s execution not because he sympathizes with him but because he wants to be one who decides when Ranboo dies. No one else. Only him

-Speaking of Michael, Not!Tubbo would go and sometimes just go into Michael’s room in the dead of night to just watch him. Usually when Michael is about to sleep

-So Michael is just having the feeling of being watched from Not!Tubbo

-And to make things worse, there are times when Not!Tubbo just sit next to Michael while he is in bed and just pet his head and sings a creepy lullaby

-Michael had nightmares for weeks

-Not!Tubbo to Michael is the monster under the bed but this time the monster is also tucking him in and grinning wide at him whenever he sleeps

-It’s terrifying :’)

-Not!Tubbo just internally laughs when Tommy calls him a monster. Oh how right dear old Tommy is

-Dream is extremely unnerved by Not!Tubbo. It’s just a game where Not!Tubbo makes some jabs towards Dream and makes him paranoid. Would go and do things such as insist on having Dream take off his mask, and doing power plays whenever they meet. He just pushes all the buttons to make Dream as uncomfortable as possible

-Dream does not outwardly show that he is unnerved. That would be admitting to weakness. Instead, he just puts on a mask of indifference every time. The closest he’s been to breaking that was when Not!Tubbo brung up exile and started talking about it in a nonchalant and casual manner. It made Dream feel like he’s playing into what Not!Tubbo wants

-Doesn’t feel so good now that you’re being possibly manipulated huh Dream?

-Not!Tubbo when touching the egg just strikes up a casual conversation with it. They both compliment each other on how much power and control they have over some of the members and they strike up a deal that they won’t go bother the other’s favorite toys. Tommy is an exception. They can share him

-Ant is now just freaking out because what the fuck. Not!Tubbo feels wrong and he wants to be as far away from him as possible. There’s something off about his appearance and look. And then the egg comes in and goes and says that he’s just imagining things and nothing is wrong

-Now Ant is being mind controlled and gaslighted!

-Hbomb at some point is going to go and confront Not!Tubbo about not being the actual Tubbo and depending on where they are it goes two different ways

-If they are alone, it goes right into threats but it’s polite and he’s smiling the whole time. He goes and says it in such a cheery voice too and it’s just honeyed poison

-If they’re in public, then it’s more of subtle threats. He’d be smiling and from the outside it would look like Tubbo is reassuring HBomb of something when in reality he’s just giving some very deadly euphemism to him

-In both scenarios though, we will have Not!Tubbo just hold HBomb’s hands in a reassuring manner. As time goes on though he would just slightly have the grip get tighter and tighter until it gets to the point where its causing HBomb pain

-The “Your Tubbo” compass doesn't point to Not!Tubbo. It spins towards the real Tubbo, who is unfortunately in another dimension

-Not!Tubbo's true form is a mannequin with too pale skin and a bit more limbs than necessary and a voice that makes you want to recoil from it yet go to it

-Several people saw that when the actual Tubbo got back and now that thing haunts them in their dreams

#dream smp #dream smp au #not!tubbo au #tubbo #captain puffy #technoblade #antfrost #fundy #tommyinnit #ranboo #michael the baby #michael the baby piglin #dream #dreamwastaken #hbomb #hbomb94 #long post #ask to tag

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meyeselph · 4 years ago

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Gwenpool: Desperate Misanthrope's Confused Angst

Showtime

Ms. Pool woke up in a familiar room. Not in Krakoa - there are no mutants around. This isn’t a story about that. Look, honestly, without an actual Gwenpool series and the constant breaks in her comics appearance I can’t even begin to give a fuck. I cancelled my marvel universe subbie. I might get back to my stories but single issues are iffy. I read fast and don’t pore over the artwork. So I get 10 minutes of entertainment for….FIVE DOLLARS? When did this happen? Jeezus.

Who even reads comics anymore?

Anyway, long story short, Gwen got out of bed and recognized the room as her old one from the “old times.” The dark times. The ‘not running around in pink and white outfits and shooting people’ times. She panicked (Been there. It is what it is though). The only way out of trauma is through.

She dressed in old clothes, immediately hit by old smells, she couldn’t help but cry. Was it all a dream? Have I gone insane (again)? All the usual self doubts cropped up. I mean, really, if you think this kind of thing didn’t pass through her mind regularly why don’t you transport yourself to a comic book universe?

Oh, you can’t?

Oh. It isn’t actually possible for you and I’m stupid for suggesting it. So, yeah. If it actually happened and you kept that attitude then the logical assumption for a normie is a mental breakdown. Trick for Gwen, though, is it's probably always been both real and her being nuts.

So she goes downstairs to the kitchen to figure out why this is happening and Evil Gwen is having cereal. Let's say cocoa puffs. I’ve been thinking about those recently. You ever remember cereal as something worth cherishing. Not as just bullshit that TV convinced you to want? God damn, now I want Cookie Crisp. Cookie Crisp wasn’t even ever that good. Why do I want Cookie Crisp?

So also sitting around the table were the faceless versions of her father, mother, and her brother. Just chilling. No BD. Seen Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind?

Yes, I know that references aren’t jokes - fuck you, I’m painting a picture and I CAN’T PAINT, THAT’S WHY THIS ISN’T A COMIC. Fucks sake. Anyway. So, Gwen is so creeped out that she just sits her butt down by Evil Gwen as if she’s the comforting presence here.

Her name’s too long. Let’s call Evil Gwen uh…….Gren. You know, like Grendel from Beowulf. I haven’t actually read Beowulf and this is all a little confusing but I'm solving problems here. Writing this is harder for me than you would think so it’s best to keep things flowing off the cuff. That’s the Gwenpool™ style anyway, isn’t it? Are you laughing yet? IMPROV. “YES AND” MY SHIT, READER!

“So, you ever really look into the retconned past thing, hun?” Gren said, moving her tongue around her food. Being gross as an attempt to be properly evil. She swallowed before continuing. “This is all I could really put together on short notice but i’m pretty sure what the future people created, all that stuff to try and trick you, it was all bullshit.”

“What do you mean? Are you trying to convince me to go all psycho like you again?” Gwen asked, exasperated, realizing she was now back in the whole ‘fuck with Gwen to decide her fate’ song and dance routine from the end of her first arc.

“Nah, not really.” Gren said. A hammer appeared in her hands out of nowhere and Gren swung it into their fake father’s head, snapping his neck..

“DAD!” Gwen instinctively cried as she saw her father’s body slump to the floor. Gren slapped Gwen’s face. “That’s it,” Gren said, “this is what the trick was.This is a poorly created character in a fictional story. Meant to manipulate you into attaching your concept of “father” to it. Even his finished version in the original comics run wasn’t THAT well drawn. Your dad read like a boomer’s idea of a responsible parent. You were going through a mental crisis and struggling to find purpose in life and his genius idea was get a shitty low paying job and suck it up?”

Gren turned to their brother, pushed his face to the table and smashed the back of his skull. . “Brother dearest, too. Going right along with their victim blaming. He gaslighted you as if what you were going through was just you being ‘irresponsible.’ Bitch, people working a minimum wage job aren’t somehow not impoverished and miserable because they get some of that ‘honest work’ that folks keep badgering on about. Minimum wage work is occupied by many physically and mentally disabled people held hostage; they’re people society only pretends to care about. Then they turn it all into you acting like some world ending threat. No questions about what drove you to the edge in the first place. You are just ‘unstable,’ so you’re just a problem to be solved. They say, ‘Let’s all solve this girl being upset and on edge by ruining her concept of self, reality, and memory.’ Brilliant!”

Gwen barely processed this in horror. Gren then slit the poor facsimile of their mother’s throat while continuing to rant, “You see people die all the time, Gwen. Half of the time you are doing the killing. You do it because it’s in a story. In a story the NPCs don’t matter and, after all, your original schtick in the story was to be kill-crazy. The non-marketable characters can be replaced or retconned at the stroke of the artist’s pen.” Gren leans forward as she pulls a Gwenpool mask over Gwens face. “Then the writers convince you that you have some middle class milk toast family and you take abuse and subsume your emotional needs because the problem MUST be you. You aren’t ‘normal’ so you have to be fixed.”

Gwen wiped her eyes over the mask and sighed. A bit of fire filled her gut as she stared at Gren. “So fucking what? You want me to go on a killing spree and be a big time villain to get myself a nice, shiny permanent big bad status? That’s how I stay around right? Just build my legacy on bodies?”

Gren scoffed “You already lost that fight, girly. Where do you think we are? Because this ain’t Marvel Comics.”

Confused, Gwen blinked and tried reaching for the page margins, finding nothing. Wait….why was everything on this page so ill defined and undetailed? Wait? Why was the story in kinda wobbly third person past tense?

Gwen sighed “Oh. I’m in a fanfic. I guess the publishing fight is for another day eh?”

“My advice, personally,” Gren stated, “is that you consider the lobster.”

“Wait, what the fuck?”

Gren pulled aside the kitchen curtains revealing the face of a giant lobster, its claws tapping on the glass. The lobster muttering gutterally about personal responsibility.

“Because there’s a couple thousand giant lobsters outside that would like to claw you until you read their book.”

Scared of Girls

On the rooftop, Gren shoved a high powered rifle into Gwen’s hands while she handled the close range threats. So, this conversation they’re about to have is important. Sniping puts Gwen into a sort of zen space, so that’s a better task to keep her focused, after all.

“So, what? You wanted me to internalize that my “origin story” is bullshit? Okay, what does that accomplish, then?” Gwen asked in a bit of a deadpan. She was so tired today. Not really feeling her happy go lucky energy. More like a “happy go fucky” energy. It was hard to always be on a knife's edge. Still the rifle’s kick into her shoulder was satisfying as she blew through two of the creepy looking lobsters at once. “Also, why the lobsters?”

Gren considered this. “Okay, last question first, I had to experiment a lot and do a lot of research to construct this place for your learning and healing in fanfic form....These buddies are a failed experiment of mine that I repurposed because the fic needed more action. Isn’t that right, giant enemy crap?” As she peppers the nearest goon with a hail of shotgun pellets the entire throng of them burst out, sharply muttering about divine symbols.

“As for what I'm trying to teach you, it’s that you aren’t reaching your potential.” Gren grumpily huffed.

“Duh,” Gwen reloads, “I mean you just killed a mannequin version of the voice in my head that says that to me every day.” one of those crustaceans talks about feminine symbolism while she decides on her next target.

“Not like fake daddy’s ‘Be a responsible member of society by paying your taxes’ type of potential. I mean your creative and emotional potential.” Gren flipped off the slavering throng of monsters, noticing they were starting to keep their distance from the roof.

“I never did finish that fanfic idea I had.” Gwen mused.

“God, don’t mention that,” Gren thrusts a finger at Gwenpool. “Not that I don’t respect fanfic, but when comic book writers make you and Kamala squee about fanfiction to try and relate to “the kids” it comes across as so condescending.”

“Really? I mean…..I'm sure it’s meant as support for the concept?”

“Most fucking superhero comics are just legalized fanfiction! The people who created the characters are either long gone or working on someone else’s characters! They just think they are so much better because they got fucking paid. They can’t imagine themselves as on the same playing field as fanficcers even though most of them have the same level of connection to the roots of the work as anyone else.” Gren groused loudly as she seemed to pull Reed Richards out of nowhere.

Confused, Reed looked around until his eyes met Gwen’s.“Oh great, you again.” Reed groaned as he turned to survey the piles of lobster gibs while Gwen cheered the lobster forces’ retreat with a resounding “EDF, EDF!”. The scattered creatures skittered amongst the bland scenery. It looked like a suburban neighborhood but someone forgot to color in the sky….or write that the sky had color. A castle hung out in the distance breaking up the generic normalcy and lay cloaked in shadow despite being surrounded by an endless white void.

“And…..black….you?” Reed pointed to Gren, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I have an evil future self….well I stopped that future so it’s an….evil...alternate timeline self?” Gwen said with a nervous chuckle, abandoning the kill quest for the minute and rested her rifle on the roof.

“Ah. Yeah I’ve been down that road. It’s a rather common occurrence. Multiverse being what it is.” Reed laughed heartily while putting his hands on his hips.

“I’m not sure I’m evil, honestly,” Gren interjected. “I think I’m just really fucking grumpy and I’m slightly more gung-ho on the homicide. Considering Gwen’s already one of the more kill crazy characters on the roster it’s not that much of a distinction.” Gren flipped her cape. “My main distinction is I don’t like that meme from The Incredibles! You can just make it so the cape detaches automatically when it’s pulled hard enough!”

“You could still have it tangled up around your face.” Reed pointed out in his standard know-it-all fashion.

“Don’t make me go into fuck wife mode, stretch.” Gren spat. “Okay, anyway, so I brought him here to illustrate a point. Reed. Explain particle physics to me as a laymen.”

“Huh...i’m not sure why but okay. Particle physics (also known as high energy physics) is a branch of physics that studies the nature of the particles that constitute matter and radiation. Although the word particle can refer to various types of very small objects (e.g. protons, gas particles, or even household dust), particle physics usually investigates the irreducibly smallest detectable particles and the fundamental interactions necessary to explain their behaviour. In current understanding, these elementary particles are excitations of the quantum fields that also govern their interactions. The currently dominant theory explaining these fundamental particles and fields, along with their dynamics, is called the Standard Model. Thus, modern particle physics generally investigates the Standard Model and its various possible extensions, e.g. to the newest "known" particle, the Higgs boson, or even to the oldest known force field, gravity.” Reed rattled this off rather mechanically.

Gren then took out her phone and showed Gwen the Wikipedia article on “Particle Physics,” which is naturally the same words that Reed had regurgitated above, just without any formatting and, again, on a phone.

“Reed can’t be a genius in any subject unless he’s written by a genius in that subject. That’s how stories work. Everyone is limited by the understanding and capabilities of the writer. Same with your origin story and all the people you’ve interacted with. If you are as ‘meta’ as you think you are then you have to realize that you aren’t actually talking to people. You are talking to the writer. Dr. Strange didn’t rewrite your existence to be a part of the Marvel Universe. As far as most of Marvel continuity goes Dr. Strange was never there and doesn’t know or care about his MCU casting…..Hey Reed, buzz off please before the conversation pivots to why you haven’t cured all known diseases.”

Reed looked a little surprised but then pulled out a teleportation device (of course he has one) and blipped away with a shrug.

“How awkward is that going to be when he enters the MCU after Kamala is already introduced with a very similar power set?” Gwen chuckled.

“Keep up the way you’ve been going and you’ll never see it. I’m not exactly expecting a young blonde girl casting call for Deadpool 3 and that’s your best bet.” Gren snarked. Gwen winced with a sigh.

“I don’t get what I'm doing wrong. I have a fanbase comparable to some of the characters that have already shown up but I can’t even get comics written about me most of the time. An MCU push seems unlikely. They would literally have to deal with completely recontextualizing my powers and gimmick”

“Let’s ask her what you should do.” Gren motioned her way to the suddenly appearing long hair future Gwen, looming over them like The Attack of the 50 foot Woman for some reason. Dwarfing the roof they are on. Let’s call her BIGwen!

Gold Guns Girls

As BIGwen acclimated to her surroundings she stubbed her toe on a car, dramatically flipping it so that it took out a few more lobsters before caving in a nearby house. The lamentations about clean rooms soaring as the remaining couple dozen of them attempt to clean up some of the bodies of their fallen kin. The large and sort-of-in-charge Gwen hissed in pain and adjusted her boot. Getting her balance as best as possible she muttered curses that traveled rather well considering the lung capacity of a giant.

“You know,” Gren started, “I wasn’t expecting much from our previous uses of the ‘make her big for emphasis’ trick, but it really does only work as a vague ghostly background element. I didn’t just want it to be ‘oh, here's a third Gwen for the conversation, though. Would lack umph.”

“ Yeah, I get it, but staring at my own giant taint is unsettling.” Gwen muttered.

“I’d still, hit it.” Gren grinned, then immediately got punched in the arm. “OWWW! Look, I’m the evil one here and we’re in a fanfic. I’m allowed to make internet fetish jokes.”

“And I’m allowed to hit you for it.”.

“Dirty lampshading goody two shoes. Don’t act like half your fanbase isn’t thirsty. It’s “insert current year argument”, all art is sexy to someone.” Gren complained back,rubbing her arm before hopping off the roof. Gwen followed while listening as patiently as she could considering how many changes in topic her evil-caped self is going through to get to her point. “This chick is the reason you’ve been on the path of good girl. Some vague idea that in the future everything will work out for the best. HEY, DOWN HERE, BIG SHOW!” Gren waved at BIGwen and she looked down curiously.

“Yeah what??” BIGwen responded in a booming and agitated tone. Honestly, being in this fic made every version of Gwen a little grumpy.

“How’s she supposed to be a popular hero that makes it into the MCU and has a stable publication history?” Gren asked.

“Fuck if I know.” Came BIGwen’s response. “Have you tried growing your hair out?”

“Rub it in,” Gwen muttered under her breath, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of depressed now.” Gwen said as she sat on an abandoned car.

Gren hopped on the roof of the car, patting Gwen’s shoulder before squatting with enough force to flex the car’s shocks like a rocking chair just to amuse herself. “Future “good” Gwen wasn’t an actual plot point, it was a call to action to the fans to make fanfic like this and support the character outside of the actual Canon. Chris didn’t trust that Marvel would treat the character right. That, and your obsession with getting a new book, are both the writer’s attempt to turn a marketing tactic into fan engagement. If you want to be real then that makes the fans want you to be real even more, too.”

Gwen sighs heavily and leans her chin on one hand. “I mean...the time traveling through the life of an NPC fan complete with a Never Ending Story reference was a bit sappy even by the standard we sometimes set...damn it it really was just kind of a fan manipulation trick wasn’t it?”

BIGwen Sat down on the street next to them and crossed her legs. “Hey, little me. Don’t get too down. I mean it worked for the most part. You have a healthy cult following. Characters have survived on less and there are worse things to be known for then as a fan first character”

“But I have to fight for attention all the damn time, though. It’s so easy for Wade with his fucking meme bullshit. He even gets runoff enthusiasm from me. Jeff the land shark is all over Oldpool online” Gwen felt rather heavy and tired all of a sudden. Marvel editorial forcing a gun to your head is not a fun way to be.

“All that fight is hell on the fanbase too.” Gren sighed. “Advocating for shit, getting crumbs and being expected to accept it while Disney lavishes all the attention based on some bullshit numbers game. Even if you make it into the MCU will it be a Batroc style cameo with obligatory ‘killed off in case we don’t feel like paying the actor again later.’ Will it be an emotionally rounded character or an ambush bug style joke? The thing is. You're Not the one fighting and you never were.”

“The fuck do you mean?”

“This version of her doesn’t know?” BIGwen whimpered.

“You aren’t real, Gwen.”

Head Like a Haunted House

“No….we aren’t having this conversation. Fuck you fuck you i’m not a fucking Nihlist and i’m not going to do this right now.” Gwen said as she scrambled off of the car and pulled out some guns. BIGwen then picked her up off the ground.

“You need to hear this, Gwen,” BIGwen boomed. “The gimmick has run its course. It’s fucking with your canon. You’re never going to be a marketable character keeping up a half fourth-wall Kayfabe”

Gren climbed onto BIGwen’s Shoulders and perched over Gwen all menacing like. “You need to listen. I’ve been trying to ease you into this. Making things more meta slowly until you were ready but it was never going to be easy.”

One of Gwen’s guns was fired from it’s holster and pierced one of BIGwen’s fingers. BIGwen screamed and her grip loosened. Soon Gwen was on the move running up her arm and firing at Gren, who dodged like the nimble and cute badass she is. “Don’t do this Gwen. Just because it doesn’t matter to the comic version of you doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m a real person god damn it! I read the comics out there! I came in! That’s why I know shit I shouldn't know. That’s what I am! THAT’S ALL I AM!” Gwen shrieked as she pulled out a sword from hammer-space and decapitated BIGwen. Suddenly a mess of colored streamers and a pile of Mickey Mouse merch tumbled out. Look, I am busy right now. Gwen is still slashing at my ass. I'm not going to explain it.

For some reason now the remaining lobsters were helping Gren. For Gwen’s own good you understand. This is proof that I’m right for some reason.

Gwen pulled out a revolver, firing pumpkin sized holes in lobsters who were still wailing about self actualization. She fully planned on shoving a sword up her evil self’s ass and getting rid of this doppelganger shit for good. Which is total bullshit by the way. She totally just cut off Gren’s leg because what the fuck you mean I’m not real? I’m going to be real all over your corpse.

Gren didn’t really think that was even a good comeback and also thought you should probably say it instead of meta willing the smack talk into existence, otherwise this fanfic is going to read like trash. Also, Gren’s leg wasn’t actually cut off. In a puff of smoke it is revealed that the cut off leg is a log and her leg is fine. Gren is a ninja now, believe it.

Gwen proceeded to do a sick ass CQC judo throw on Gren and then grab her cape and wrap it around her face like Reed suggested. Callbacks for the win! Callbacks to Checkov’s gun ideas always lead to victory in fights! She then totally shot at her and such.

But the bullet was caught by the cape because the cape was a symbiote! That’s right Gren is also GRENOM!...boy that sounds stupid. Anywho, the cape was no longer around her face and the fight continued and Gren now ALSO had extra powers and special wizard-symbiote armor (that would only show up in the MCU version if Marvel finally got the Sony characters back). The meta powers work like shit in text but this would be really good in CGI or animation if Marvel wanted to adapt this fic and give the writer lots of money. Gren still has more experience with them, though, and Gwen can’t really just kill her way out of this fic so she has to just let the story play out.

…...eh?....oh Gwen’s crying. I love/am you girl but we gotta work on the crying. Fucks sake this is harder than I thought. I’m depressed now too. Well I'll try to get the writing back on track so you guys can see what is going on. Even the lobsters are minding their manners now. Chill vibes, guys.

“The marvel character page for Gwenpool says, and I quote:

Gwenpool arrived in the Marvel Universe from the “real world,” but has wasted no time in making the most of her time in her fictional universe. Using her knowledge of comics to her advantage, Gwenpool causes and solves problems for her fellow heroes.”

Gren drags a lobster corpse slowly toward Gwen and sits on its tail as she talks to her. Taking her time to really scrape the lobster against the ground, smearing the gore on the pavement. Not that it was heavy for her or anything. Totally still has that symbiote, which would make moving it easy. Totally wasn’t a detail added in the second revision of the fic slightly before the lobsters were added.

“The words “Real world” are in quotation marks in that wiki. Real people don’t make it into comics because fiction isn’t real. Half of your versions barely make use of the ‘real person’ gimmick because it’s too meta by half and not every writer wants to waste time justifying it. So they just treat it like Deadpool’s medium awareness. Which it mostly is.”

“I really am just a fucking rip off distaff character.” Gwen moans. “Just a Gwen combined with a Pool. I’m worse than the Batman who laughs. I never mattered because I was never real”

“Fuck don’t say that. You were made with love and care by a team of creators who took a weird offshoot idea and built out a compelling metafiction idea and a likeable protagonist off of it. They just didn’t have the time and foresight to go far enough.” Gren sighed.

“Far enough?” Gwen sniffed as she was pulled up to her feet and dragged toward one of the big castles. As they walked Gren kicked along a Mickey Mouse doll that had rolled out of BIGwen’s severed head. Every time it bounced it cheerfully said ‘hahah. I love you!’

“Too much haha, not enough trauma. You’re not just a joke character.” Gren said as she kicked the Mickey doll into the big front door of the castle. The shadowy thing of course lighting up and being all fantasy and shit as the door opened.

“Well I did end both of my comic runs pretty mopey.”

“Damn right you did. When the jokes run thin they run to your real bread and butter. You’re an empathy machine.” As Gren shoves Gwen through the gate they are swallowed up in the castle, going dark again. “Let’s getcha sad clown on.”

Never there

“See, what evil me should have been telling you about in the original run is how to find meaning and purpose when technically nothing means anything. Comic book characters live in a world without real death and suffering. It’s all a puppet show version of real pain and real emotion meant to bring that out of an audience.” Gren opined as they walked through a black void to a couch floating in a nothing area lit only by the static of an old TV.

“Can we turn on a light?” Gwen asked as she sat on the couch. Gren sat on another recliner that suddenly appeared and put her feet up.

“Fuck off. Ambiance is a thing. We aren’t having a ‘lights on with something fun on the TV’ conversation. So look, I am not really ‘evil gwen.’ I’m half an author insert and half a plot device. If we are talking about the reality of the story you are basically talking to yourself. I am speaking about the things you don’t want to admit to yourself. You know, you’ve seen this kind of story sorta... right?” Gren picked up the remote and frustratedly changed channels between a bunch of vaguely illustrative footage on the TV, not finding anything that worked. A lot of black and white footage of trains for some reason. Just what comes to mind when I think of documentary footage? Weird.

“I am not sure how to illustrate this shit visually and this is a text story anyway so I would have to explain the illustration,” Gren griped.

“I basically get it. It’s not that uncommon a trope.” Gwen nodded.

“Because of the level of meta we are on right now we have to really acknowledge that you are basically an author insert, too. I mean, to a certain extent every version of you is more the writer that is working with your character at the time than a set character.” Gren said as she settled on a visual of Gwen being pushed out the window by her own narration text in the original comic run. When all else fails, resort to footage from the last story. That way people can look it up online!

“Right here is where the character crystallized in the mind of the author of the current fic we are in. A vague suicide metaphor wrapped up in the flavor of self destructive escapism. Your parents in the story thought it was a suicide attempt on at least some level. This is serious business. Not just a girl who doesn’t like work and can’t finish her fanfic. In this comic you are built on this understanding. The writer of this fic has ADHD and autism. So his version of you more or less has it, too. Writers bring themselves with them into their work.”

Gwen nods and takes a deep breath. “I….I can feel it. Like the world is closing around you. You aren’t built for anything that anyone wants from you. The one thing you really believe in, the one thing that really defines you, the stories in your head…..it’s just not enough.

You can’t trust you’ll ever make it with writing because you can barely write. You barely have the energy to do anything but wish that you weren’t you. What if someone actually listened? Actually believed in you and whisked you away somewhere else where the world would fit your needs? What if you were someplace you could be someone else, someone strong and confident?”

“Yeah. Like a funny anti hero in a comic for instance.” Gren nodded. “But the original comics sort of left the theme on the table. They were captured by the misconception of Gwen as the problem and not a person who needed help. All that desperation that real fans of the character might feel just bundled up into love for this character that really ‘gets’ them but Marvel doesn’t ‘get’ the character. They won't use her. They won’t go past vaguely gesturing at her mental issues and moving on. They saved the angst for Wandavision.” Gren scoffs.

“I mean the show was okay but they literally have a character built entirely on the theme of escapism and trauma. One that’s custom built for mind-screw visuals and reality bending plots and they think she’s just a lazy fangirl who really likes guns that they can sit beside Deadpool sometimes and stick in the X-Men’s bloated background character roster when they don’t need her.”

Gren leads Gwen off the couch and deeper into the void where a door to a bedroom waits. A room like her own, absolutely slopping over with old toys of comic book characters. An unclean messy space in a run-down house that smells faintly of cigarette smoke. Huddled in bed, reading an 80s era X-men comic with a flashlight, is a 12 year old Gwen.

“This is never going to be canon but this is the version of Gwen in this fic. She can’t stop crying at school. Things that shouldn’t be hard are so hard and she can’t explain why. Everyone says she’s making excuses. Meanwhile her mother is fucked out of her mind on pain killers and her step father killed himself last year ‘cleaning his gun’ while drunk. You know exactly what is on her mind right now?” Gren says as she gestures at the girl.

“I wish the superheroes would save me from this.”

“They won’t. They can’t. They were never meant to.” Gren Slams the door loudly on the scene.

“That is the emotional core of Gwenpool in this fic. The desperation that so many of the fans down here in the fucking muck of the real world feel. Poor and emotionally unfulfilled. Confused and vulnerable. If Disney and Marvel gave two fucking shits about people like that they wouldn’t waste as many stories as they do. They wouldn’t just use untold wealth to make expensive escapist stories with the military. Their gestures toward progressive ideas that they occasionally make in their stories would be THE ENTIRE POINT of their stories and the actual thing they used that money for instead of lobbying the government to keep Mickey Mouse out of the public domain.

“Disney has the power yet they save a fucking miniscule fraction of who they could. Saving people doesn’t make money.”

When I Get To The Green Building

Gren stormed through the void. The scene disintegrated around her as Gwen followed. Both now in a bit of a sour mood but with newfound determination.

“Come to think of it. Why is the fucking Hulk getting to fight for social justice in the comics? Why are they making a gay alternate universe Captain America? Why are they grasping at straws so hard to find characters that get to advocate and I am just sitting on a fucking island being grumpy?” Gwen groused. “I’m pretty sure I’m pansexual….at least in this fic. I could advocate for a bunch of shit at once.”

“You have a youth fanbase, a unique story and you technically aren’t an alternate universe version of fucking anything no matter how many people still think you are a Stacey. They made a fucking ‘for the fans’ character and then neglected it. Presumably because some fucking money making metric didn’t pan out despite the comics just being an MCU test kitchen and IP farm anyway.”

“You’re a fucking check mark on a ledger. I don’t even know if anyone technically created Gwenpool as a whole and Disney/Marvel can give the character to whoever they want to do whatever they want completely separate from what the fanbase wants and needs because she isn’t established. The IP landlords have spoken. The fans haven’t risen to enough ‘buy my merch’ calls to action to invest more resources. So tease endlessly until that changes.”

“Gah. Now I'm actually as pissed as you are.” Gwen said as she started fiddling with her guns. “Who do I kill?”

“We can’t do shit. You’re not even a character at this point. You are a meme for an underused character.” Gren smirked all evil like. “See but that’s it. You aren’t just a meme. You’re a MEME.”

“Uhm...I don't follow.”

“Like the concept of Justice. Gwenpool is an idea. Defined entirely by how people who engage with the idea choose to engage with it. The IP law means Disney owns Gwenpool but they don’t own how Gwenpool is perceived. Just like we as a people decide what justice is through popular consent we also decide what Gwenpool is. You see they made a character for the fans…..in my opinion that means the fans can do as they like with it even if it makes Disney uncomfortable.”

“I mean they can’t even stop porn of their characters just because of the sheer volume of the problem. I suppose people could do whatever.” Gwen nodded.

“Exactly. So the fans should just fucking Occupy Gwenpool!” Gren said as she flipped her cape dramatically with a mad smile on her face. That’s right. She was Dirtbag Leftist Gwen all along!

“Squat on that IP. Make Gwenpool a mental health advocate. Make her an LGBTQ activist. Make her fight for social and financial justice so hard that Bruce Banner looks like a poser. Make her talk shit about politicians who put their career ahead of the people. Do all the shit that makes the comicsgate crowd sad. Keep politics in our stories! Rally around that pink and white ass so hard they have to notice and then tie it all to the fact that Disney has great power and with great power they take no responsibility for how shitty the world is.”

“ If they are going to fuck Gwenpool fans they gotta learn Gwenpool fans fuck back. We have already proven we can make all kinds of cool shit. Let’s get serious and make more, harder, faster! Get a hashtag or some shit. They can't DMCA all of us! GWEN IS OURS WE JUST HAVE TO REACH OUT AND TAKE IT. Then they either respect the character and her fans or they just hit a PR disaster.”

“Marvel/Disney neglects fan focused cult character themed protest movements. Proves they are only progressive when it makes them money. They’re so worried about Mickey ending up in the public domain? We’re the public domain! After our entire lives stannin their characters and buyin their merch building them from an animation house into a juggernaut they are just another weight on top of the boot on our necks. They have to take responsibility!” At this point Gren is pretty much ranting maniacally and neglecting the actual writing of the story so this is Gwen taking over to wrap up.

Guys I may not be ‘the real Gwen’ but really, isn’t the version of Gwen that actually came from the real world all of us? Isn’t Gwenpool really the Gwens we made along the way? We could easily bring a little heroism and chaos to the real world (at least to the internet) if we really tried. Put the fear of God into some IP landlords and fight for some cool people that society is screwing over, too.

Prove that even in the fandom abyss people aren’t as powerless as they seem. Use that internet comic fan mobbing for something besides giving Zack more money. Disney is gearing up for their next IP fight for Mickey in 2024. Seems like a fine time for IP themed protests. For now we just need to spread the word that our needs are more important than their profits.

It’s been real. It’s been long. It’s been a real long time coming…..

But I finally finished my fanfic.

See ya, true believers.

#gwenpool #fanfic #deconstruction #outofloveiswear #fortheoriginalwritersnotmarvelordisney #tw mental health #tw mentions of suicide #tw mentions of drug abuse #tw violence #tw gun violence

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merinnan · 4 years ago

Text

Time Raiders

Okay, pausing the DMBJ 2 watches to watch the Time Raiders movie instead! I've been told that the entire movie is basically one big crackfic & I want to see how true that is

- Apparently the only place I can find it is YouTube

- And we open with someone laying down cards which...seem to be making a qilin pattern. Okay.

- And now we're at the Himalayas, and it seems to be a bunch of white soldiers shooting people?

- Oh, this leader white guy has a classic villain look. I love the pocket watch, too

- Wait, he's supposed to be a scientist?

- He obviously hasn't read the Evil Overload Handbook

- And now this is giving me flashbacks to Xiaoge's first appearance in DMBJ1

- Ah, yes, I think this is the Xiaoge for this movie. Excellent.

- DUDES. You have GUNS. You were using them just before. Why are you now using knives only?

- I mean, it wouldn't do much better, because Xiaoge, but still

- This is A Look

- Finally, one of them uses a gun, and it's as useless as I expected it would be

- Ahahahah, omg, what he did to these two guys is hilarious

- That is a TERRIBLE hiding place

- Don't....don't leave him alive. JFC

- This flashback montage is super weird

- Look, I don't have a tattoo myself, but I'm pretty sure that that's not how you get tattoos

- And now we move to Wushanju

- Oh, I think it's Sanshu who's been playing with those cards

- ...you have got to be kidding me

- Really? We're really doing this?

- I guess this is Wu Xie, then

- What even did he just randomly put that mask on for

- That is NOT a newborn

- Awww, kid Wu Xie

- Yay, creepy old houses. And ofc kid Wu Xie is gonna try to get inside

- But that is a fucking massive lock

- Yes, of course, wrap the porch in giant fuckoff chains, but don't lock the front door. Why not?

- ....k

- Sure, that happened

- And bratty kid Wu Xie still pinched one of the medallions after all of that

- Okay, yeah, if you were a kid who had to go to a funeral every month, no wonder you'd be so bored at them

- This movie is all over the place in terms of timeline

- I think we're finally into the time period of the main story

- And it seems this one also has Wu Xie as having been an architecture student of some kind

- Oh, yes, that's exactly what you want to find while crawling through a tunnel

- WX: "Sanshu can never know about this. You didn't tell him, right?"

WM: *oh shit I'm screwed face*

- Hi Sanshu, I wonder how you got here

- I love that no matter what version it is, Wu Xie is a little shit XD

- ...Wu Xie. Moths. Light. No.

- Wu Xie gonna Wu Xie

- Wu Xie, what are you doing?

- OMG

- Sanshu, this is all your fault for never letting him in anything like this. He doesn't know not to touch

- Wow, that wasn't subtle at all

- That's some steampunky looking villain lair right there

- I love how the 'passerby video' getting screened fucking everywhere is just the movie footage of that scene XD That's some high quality passerby video with interesting angles

- That's an interesting drinking spot, Xiaoge

- I love that so far Wu Xie's instincts for everything is either 'touch it', 'wear it', or 'dismantle it'

- ....okay

- Yeah, I....I think this is going to be my reaction to most of the movie, tbh

- Although at least this whole magic Snake Empress and weird ancient technology/magic thing is more interesting than the bland het palace drama randomly dropped into the middle of DMBJ1

- Oh, finally, some product placement

- I was wondering what was taking it so long

- I love how all their desks and papers and such are inside what look like coffins, and then fold out

- Oh look, Xiaoge's sword is inside one of the coffins.

- And there's Xiaoge

- Hei Ye gave Sanshu the sword decades ago?

- lol, this is like some Sword in the Stone bullshit right here

- I love it

- a) Was all that really necessary

- b) wtf even is that sword?

- It's a really bizarre design, and surely being able to be moved like a mechanical device would weaken it?

- ...okay, that was a cute meeting, I'll give it that

- Love how the older guys are teasing Wu Xie in the truck here.

- Oh, Wu Xie's actually a psych student in this one

- And like, Wu Xie, how do you know Xiaoge was looking at his reflection. It's a window, he might have just been spacing out at the scenery

- You must have been paying a lot of attention to him to notice it was the reflection he was actually looking at, hmmm? 👀

- This is a cute Wu Xie, tho

- Yes, Wu Xie, despite your lack of modesty there I totally caught that you just called Xiaoge handsome

- WU XIE WHAT NO DON'T DO THAT

- Hahaha, Xiaoge had exactly the same reaction

- No, Wu Xie, it doesn't matter that you'd taken the ammo out, you should never stick the barrel of a gun in your face and look down it like that.

- Even if you're certain it's unloaded, you just DON'T DO THAT

- Wu Xie, lacking impulse control and survival instincts without Xiaoge and Pangzi since....forever

- (okay, lacking survival instincts was perhaps a bit too far, but still)

- I love Xiaoge's "omg what even are you" look at that

- This is a very talkative and open to talking about himself Xiaoge

- It's kind of weird

- lol @ Sanshu locking Wu Xie in the truck so he can't come with them

- I mean, really, does he actually expect this to work?

- He knows his nephew both likes and is good at taking things apart, after all

- lol, I knew it

- Oh

- Oh, that's not a good sign

- Even Coral's logo just screams 'villainous organisation'

- These mercenaries look like video game characters from like COD or something

- Oh hi, lady I presume is A-Ning

- I like the haircut. Looks kinda like DMBJ 1 Xiaoge's haircut, just with the fringe over the opposite eye

- Oh, there's that gratuitous boob shot that @thosch3i told me about

- I really don't see why it was necessary for A-Ning to crawl all over the truck like that when everyone else just walked past it

- There is some really nice scenery in this movie with all the mountains and cliffs and such

- "What I'm doing isn't about right or wrong, it's about how much" I like this A-Ning. She is refreshingly direct and mercenary

- Damn, I though Xiaoge was going to notice the drone. I mean, it's so close to them! He should notice it!

- Love Hendrix's surprised Pikachu face at recognising him, though

- I'm honestly surprised that none of them have looked in the truck at all

- I do appreciate that this movie doesn't even attempt to pretend that they're not tomb raiders

- And that they have no interest in preserving this place

- Because BOOM! Let's just dynamite our way in and destroy half the wall

- Oops, no floor there

- Hahaha, this tomb is a fucking platform game

- Lovely, a shootout in a tomb. Just what every good tomb raiding movie need

- lol, Sanshu

- Don't you ever ever again wonder where your nephew's little shit tendencies come from

- I think Xiaoge and A-Ning are the only truly competent people on their respective teams

- A-Ning, 'keep them alive' does not mean 'try to shoot one in the face at close range'

- That little boot knife is kinda cute, though

- Clever move, Pan Zi

- I love the Xiaoge/A-Ning fight. He really is the only one who could keep her distracted

- I'm impressed at how well she held her own with him

- IDK why he was holding back

- Also, Xiaoge participating in fight banter, no matter how minimal? Strange, but also kinda cool.

- I'm going to be giggling about that "Not bad"/"I know" for awhile, I think

- IDK how they had the time or the ability to stay still long enough to rig up that trap, I'm impressed

- lol, yeah, I didn't think that it would take Wu Xie long to get out of the truck

- I take back my earlier comment about it being too harsh to say that Wu Xie lacks survival instincts without Xiaoge and Pangzi around

- Wu Xie, there is not enough light down here for you to get good shots without your flash being on

- I know having your flash on is a BAD idea, but still

- You cannot be getting good photos in this light

- Why is Xiaoge separated from everyone? He jumped down with them

- I mean, it's good that he is, otherwise Wu Xie would be kinda screwed right now

- Huh, bats, there must be an actual entrance to this tomb, not just the one that Sanshu's team made.

- A-Ning's tiny baby drones are so cute

- The English dubbing in this is surprisingly good compared to the shows

- Yes, good, the staring is starting

- ...Wu Xie, you little shit

- He's so pleased with himself

- Xiaoge is so confused until he explains it

- OMG, a Xiaoge smile

- OMG A XIAOGE LAUGH

- Ah yes, multiple large tornadoes, a way to signify weird shit is going now

- And weird spinny planets forming an...energy grid of some kind?

- ...k

- The mini drones apparently only pick up on people who are part of A-Ning's team, I guess

- JESUS

- I mean, I had a strong suspicion that was gonna happen, but it still made me jump

- Xiaoge to the rescue!

- Damn, that sword is strong

- This tomb definitely has a spider colony, but given it also has a bat colony that doesn't surprise me

- Those are some creepy looking mannequins

- This set up looks like a game of Mouse Trap

- A game of Mouse Trap with fire

- That's actually a really cool way to light all the candles and lamps

- I'm impressed that none of the cobwebs have caught on fire

- Oh, so NOW you use your flash, Wu Xie. When the room is all well lit and you don't actually need it

- CREEEEEPY

- Wu Xie and his compulsive need to touch things

- Are all the puppets connected somehow, or are we gonna have spooky magical shit making them all come to life?

- Oh, the puppet band is like the bells, I guess

- Huh, it seems Wu Xie's the only one who got thrown into memories in these illusions, everyone else's hallucination still has them inside the tomb

- wtf, a lion is a weird thing to hallucinate

- Magic Zhang blood, go!

- IDK why he needs to cut himself for each person, though, surely one cut should be enough to get all the drops of blood he needs

- Good boy, Wu Xie, already so protective of his Xiaoge

- This really is a fucking platform game

- Guys, this is why you study up on the raid mechanics BEFORE you enter the instance

- Ahahahah, the music playing as Wu Xie basically dances with the sword trap

- lol, the look on Xiaoge's face as he realises Wu Xie is just...fucking dancing and taking photos

- And that it's WORKING

- OMFG, this is basically just a bizarre dance sequence

- I love it

- It's so stupid

- The puppets having fucking crossbows

- Because ofc they do

- Repeating crossbows

- ...k

- So now we have a room full of skeletons stuffed into cages

- Why not

- Ah, we're about to have bugs show up

- Excellent

- This is what I've been waiting for

- Let the hilarity begin continue

- Dude, you can quit right now as much as you like, but it doesn't mean you're going to be able to get out of here by yourself

- I guess this guy's gonna die now

- For the tropes are hungry and must be fed

- Much like the bugs

- Yep, here we go

- Hello, shibie, I've been expecting you

- These ones don't look as cartoonishly ridiculous as the ones in DMBJ 1, I'm sad

- OMFG, it's eating the shovel/pick/thing

- Okay, this is a good effort at cartoonish ridiculousness

- It's a lovely day in the tomb, and these are horrible shibie

- Poor Wu Xie, so shocked at getting slapped

- And yeah. Yeah, that's about the only thing you can do there.

- Only way to save the guy is to just give him a quick death so he doesn't suffer from being eaten alive

- They're lucky these shibie move so slowly. It gives them plenty of time to climb up onto those frames

- lol, weird bendy sword again

- Wow, good catch, Wu Xie

- Y'know, Wu Xie, it might have been more useful to give the knife to Da Kui

- And ofc Wu Xie falls down

- What is a DMBJ adaptation without Wu Xie getting himself into danger like this?

- That was so much wtf all at once

- First, an unbroken flute just, like, laying there on the ground

- Then, Wu Xie somehow thinking that playing it would save him from the bugs

- Then that WORKED

- He's like the fucking Pied Piper of the shibie

- What even is this movie

- Haha, the little OK sign he flashes at Xiaoge

- The wtf look on Xiaoge's face

- Same, Xiaoge. Same

- I love how everyone just. Accepts it & congratulates Wu Xie on being an awesome flute player

- But then ig what else are you gonna do?

- It's like, well, this may as well happen

- Sanshu's team really likes using grenades, huh?

- Well, it does work pretty well!

- See, Wu Xie, this is when you need to summon your bugs back

- On a completely different tangent, I cannot get over how weirdly the subs translate men you ping. I had to look up wtf shtum was. I've never come across it before. Is it something more commonly used in the US or something?

- Xiaoge, when you said you had a better way than digging under the door, I didn't think you meant just BATTERING THE FUCKING DOOR WITH THE SHOVEL

- Oh, no, it's with your sword

- Because the best way to look after a sharp blade and keep it in good condition and keep a good edge is to...hack at rocks with it

- Ofc

- Why didn't I think of that?

- OK, ig fucking up your sword's edge did actually work, there's now a giant-ass hole in the door

- This is serious Day After Tomorrow vibes here

- Ah, yes, giant lightning strikes that cause so much force to travel through the earth that they can semi-collapse a tunnel deep underneath a mountain

- Just your usual tomb robbing dangers

- Physicists and meteorologists would have a fucking field day here

- Ah, I see we're at this level of the platform game

- With the collapsing floor you need to get across without falling

- Okay, that's really kinda sweet of Wu Xie here. He thinks he's likely to die, and the most important thing to him is giving Xiaoge the pictures he took of him so that he doesn't lose all his memories

- And aww, Xiaoge's so worried about him

- Like, I'm totally understanding why the transmigrated Wu Xie in that fic looked at these two and went "wow, we're so gay in this timeline"

- Even the music in this scene is shipping it

- Romantic line, and dramatic fall through the floor. Yep.

- I'm amazed he survived that fall, but it's Wu Xie, and he can't die

- ...yes, ancient Persian architecture totally had anachronistic technology. Sure. This is definitely like that

- omfg, they're statis chambers

- 2000 year old stasis chambers

- Guess they're not worried about catching Sanshu and his team to get the key anymore. They've been kinda sidetracked

- Side quests will do that

- ...plant golems

- "Don't shoot the thing that's in the process of murdering your friend! You might damage my research project!"

- Ew, that's not a nice death

- Yes, good girl, A-Ning

- That thing was just gonna kill your whole team otherwise

- ...how did that laptop survive the blast enough for Wu Xie to be using it with no problem

- That's one tough laptop

- Where do I get one?

- And hey, I guess the one Chinese guy with A-Ning isn't actually one of her people, since she just, like, left him there 🤣 In the room with a plant golem 🤣 That she then threw a grenade into 🤣

- ...omg, that's meant to be Pangzi?

- I was wondering why no Pangzi in the movie. I guess 3/4 of the way through isn't too late to properly intro him

- Ahahaha, Wu Xie actually thinks his bluff was super successful when there's a plant golem behind him

- Xiaoge to the rescue again XD

- lol @ both Pangzi and Wu Xie using Xiaoge's sword as a restraint

- ...surprise A-Ning! I wasn't expecting her to actually come back

- And she's somehow lost all of her guys

- That's a lot of snakes, but I'm more interested in where all the water is coming from and why you can see the sun behind those shelves

- Given how deep under a mountain they're supposed to be

- I do love competent, pretty girls wielding huge fuckoff guns

- This door mechanism is so intricate (like the key/timer). So ofc I'm sure they're going to destroy it all

- Because that's how tomb raiding movies go

- Introduce a tomb with intricate and complex mechanisms far in advance of anything else known to that time period and civilisation, and then destroy them in dramatic fight and escape scenes

- OMG the floor is lava

- Of course there's lava as well

- Oh, and it seems it's now all open to the sky

- Ig the lightning which could mysteriously exert high levels of force must have smashed through the mountain and very neatly cleared it all way so that this part of the tomb and only this part of the tomb is now open air

- Wang Zanghai wishes he could go this extra with tomb building

- And now Xiaoge being super extra to get across the destroyed section of the bridge

- So this dude is gonna wake up just before Xiaoge gets there, isn't he?

- And we're going to get an epic swordfight between them

- At least, it better be an epic swordfight

- Otherwise this buildup will be very disappointing

- Ah, yes, good, there we go

- And all the plant golems are also waking up

- ...along with a shitton of snakes

- OMG the snakes have arms

- The snakes

- have arms

- OMG Xiaoge's sword is doing what now?

- That's almost as ridiculous as the snakes with arms

- It's like a sword designed by a 13 year old weeaboo boy

"it's gonna be ancient, and super strong, and nothing will ever make it blunt"

"okay, seems like a typical magic sword so far, that's fair"

"and you can bend it at right angles"

"...you can what"

"and when it's bent at right angles, you can make it spin really fast and still use it like a proper sword"

"...it what"

- ...the Snake Empress is reforming in her armour as thousands of little vines all coming together

- k

- Sure

- This may as well happen

- And her armour has boobplate, because ofc it does

- Oh, she ain’t happy that Xiaoge just killed her plant golem boyfriend

- Her aesthetics are hilarious

- It's part Queen of the Damned, part Little Shop of Horrors

- Okay, snake lady, your worms might change the world but honestly I think that lightning would be more effective if you could control it

- Sanshu and co just randomly walk in through another entrance

- Oh, and there's the rest of A-Ning's team

- I want the story behind this A-Ning and her team. The way they all call her captain, and follow her without a second word, and are so genuinely happy to see her. This isn't just a throw-together team, or a team that Hendrix put together and put her in charge of. This is her team, and there's an obvious history between them

- And snake lady is suddenly not looking as pretty as she was, for no discernible reason

- One minute she's jumping around, the next she's all pale and falling apart. At least her face is

- It's like she's decomposing throughout the fight

- And here come the snakes with arms

- They move just as slowly as the shibie in here do

- They jump pretty fast, though

- RIP the next member of Sanshu's team

- Yeah, machine guns aren't that effective against regular snakes, let alone magic snakes

- And the plant golems are here

- RIP more of Sanshu's team

- Ah, the little snakes with arms are all grown up and off to conquer the world

- ...omfg Pangzi

- And this time it's A-Ning to the rescue

- I love how quickly Wu Xie and Pangzi fall into the dynamic of a pair of clowns, regardless of adaptation

- RIP Harry. You went out like a badass

- Oh wow, both teams are having some fucking epic sacrificial deaths in this fight scene

- I like

- And more cute pingxie, this time in flashbacks

- lol, clearing out plant golem conversion by pure force of will

- ...and channeling blood down the grooves in the sword blade apparently...makes it sharper?

- At least, it couldn't cut through the vines before, and now it can

- That's not how magnetic fields work

- Ahahaha, Wu Xie pulling out his flute

- He's gonna pull that Pied Piper shit again, isn't he?

- Here come the shibie, come to nom on plant-snake-lady flesh!

- She's having just as much trouble with them as everyone else does

- Because it's a lovely day in the tomb, and they are horrible shibie

- Wow, she hits hard, she knocked Xiaoge like halfway across the chasm

- Good thing there was a random broken pillar there

- Are they getting obliterated?

- Ah, no, they're getting sucked up by the wind

- Shibie-nado!

- You know, I kinda like how bad Wu Xie's English is compared to everyone else who's spoken English so far

- It nicely demonstrates who speaks it a lot and who doesn't

- Aw, Wu Xie, you're always so optimistic when you're baby

- And it actually worked. I'm impressed.

- Oh wow, A-Ning, that's some character development right there, caring about right or wrong instead of money

- Nice Pangi & A-Ning dynamic in this movie, given how they usually hate each other

- This is definitely the final level of a platform game

- Hahah, the two teams now

- Awwwwwwww 😭

- I think this is the first time I've seen Wu Xie rescue Xiaoge rather than vice versa

- "I regret not locking you in the truck myself"

- Sorry, Xiaoge, I don't think you'd actually have much more luck with that than Sanshu did

- Xiaoge, you really should have been more careful there, you almost did low Wu Xie

- Good thing A-Ning was close by!

- ....the sword...is being used...as a boomerang

- wtaf

- Hahahah, the snakes' death throes, omg

- lol what even was that ending

Overall: This movie was just one long DMBJ PingXie AU crackfic, and the author didn't know how to end it so just...didn't write an actual ending. That's the only way I can explain it.

#dmbj #daomu biji #time raiders

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fandom-necromancer · 4 years ago

Text

Five Nights at Jericho’s

And here the second Halloween short! This has been prompted by the amazing @sparklingrainbowdragon! I only know the game from one Let’s Play, I hope it’s enough XD Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | AU: Five nights at Freddy’s

A lot had been going wrong during the revolution. Hell, a far lot more had been going wrong before the revolution, too. But it was only after it that the true extend of just how much had been going wrong had been unveiled. After androids had been granted their rights, the first instinct for them was to seek refuge in numbers and safe who they knew was in danger. How many androids of New Jericho had become vocal about abusers, about literal prisons for their kind and the extend of brutality they faced had even managed to touch Gavin. Far too long he had seen how that kind of treatment ended. He had seen the crime-scenes, he had found the dead bodies and he had interviewed the survivors. They had been human, yes, but now that the DPD helped New Jericho in finding lost friends and saving who could still be saved, he was told the same things over and over again:

‘They… They helped me out of there. I- I wanted- I couldn’t- I left them behind to get help.’ ‘I don’t know if he was still functioning. But I was dumped somewhere and there were a lot of partially assembled androids. Please, if they can be repaired, we need to help them!’ ‘She… We fled together. I love her. But we had to split up and couldn’t find each other again. I last saw her by the docks. But… Please, you have to find her!’ ‘My android. I tried to hide him. But my neighbours found out and took him away from me. I don’t know where they brought him.’

It changed something in Gavin. Androids weren’t in any way different to humans. They faced the same problems; they had the same fears. And that realisation made him seriously regret how he had acted in the past. A part of him still told him he wasn’t like these faceless persons he heard of. He had never abused someone. Had never hurt someone. His attitude wasn’t the best, but he had never done anything like it. But he had thought about it. And to the very least he had pointed his gun at Connor. No, he hadn’t abused someone, but he hadn’t exactly made their life any easier.

He needed something to ease his mind, something to repay what he owed them. That was why he ended up volunteering at New Jericho. He was human, so there wasn’t much he could do when most of their residents were afraid of his kind. But eventually he was given the task of watching a warehouse. The androids inside were all deactivated and waited for repairs. Until they would be able to though someone needed to watch the warehouse. Android parts were traded at high prizes and a warehouse full of apparently dead androids was a gold mine. A few night shifts on his free days wouldn’t hurt, he thought. Not like he would have much going on anyways.

Gavin sat on his chair feet crossed on the table. His coffee cup was steaming next to him, the aroma filling the small room. He was constantly switching in between texting with Tina and watching the feed of the surveillance cams in front of him. He had made it a habit of his to patrol around the warehouse every other hour not to fall asleep and had just come back from one. Not a person in sight and no disturbance at all. He glanced at the android bodies again. They were leaned against the walls, neatly standing there and waiting for the day they would be woken up again. The longer Gavin stared at the screens, the creepier the whole situation became. At least they had their eyes closed. It made it easier pretending they were just mannequins instead of living beings just… waiting for their time to come.

Gavin sighed and reached for his coffee.

>Alright Gavin gotta go! >Hope you have a cosy n8 with the zombots!

Gavin chuckled and send her a few barfing smileys followed by a “Good night”. Now to the boring part of sitting alone in some office for the rest of the night.

When he looked back up again from a game on his phone, he had to do a double take. Then his heart skipped a beat. Were this… Were this android’s eyes open? ‘Oh hell no…’ Gavin had seen enough horror movies not to dare look away from the screen. But at some point, he did have to blink. And there: The previously open eyes were shut again. ‘Phck.’ Gavin quickly pulled up Tina’s texts again, frantically typing in the hopes she had just told him she would be off to bed to scroll through shit posts in peace before sleep. The sentence wasn’t completely typed in as Gavin glanced up and would have nearly fallen off his chair.

The android had moved.

Broken arm at his side, the android had turned and looked into the camera out of one icy blue working eye. Oh no, oh no, oh no…

>Tian, if im ded tomoewrr call the polife! >address is

He looked up again and saw the android that had stared him down had vanished from the feed. Shit. Gavin put the phone away and flipped through the different cams. Not a trace of the android. But when he had circled back again, another android had moved. One that couldn’t walk and crawled across the floor. Gavin hadn’t seen it moving, but it was staring at him. And slowly the shattered hull plates distorted into a crooked grin. Oh, phck this, seriously! The one time Gavin had agreed to do something nice and promptly the universe punished him for it!

He would have loved to just shut off the feeds and pretend all was right, but maybe this time not knowing was worse than the alternative. The next time he had to blink the android was gone again. Okay. He had to remain calm. Two androids on the loose, knowing someone was watching. He tried to keep his breathing slow and deep, but it didn’t do jack shit. He stood up from his seat and stared at the camera feeds. Another one was gone and another one, the creepy one with a broken jaw, was moving. Gavin was seconds from fleeing the building as he heard a noise. Then the lights went out with a crack. Gavin stood in total darkness, his heartbeat leaping into his throat. Someone had cut the power to the room. Not only the light had died suddenly, the cams were gone too. He knew the fuses were just outside the door. But he really didn’t want to go out there. Not when four and possibly more androids were on the run with only the knowledge from before the android revolution to go off of.

He finally worked up his courage and moved around the table, hand outstretched to feel his way to the door. He tried to unlock his phone with one hand and used the screen to light the floor a few feet in front of him. He reached for the cover of the fuse box and ripped it open to find the right lever. He pushed the fuse back in and immediately the lights flashed on. Gavin slammed the cover shut again and froze as he saw a figure at the end of the hallway. It was the one-armed with the blue eyes. Why did it have to be the most intact? Why? Gavin cursed, but his flight instinct set in as the figure began moving towards him. He ran back into the surveillance room and pulled the door shut behind him. For a moment there was only his heavy breathing and the door in front of him. He was safe. The bot wouldn’t be able to break through solid metal after all.

He turned around and stood face to face with two androids. It was the one that had previously been crawling over the floor held up by the one with the broken jaw. ‘Hello’, they said simultaneously out of broken mouths, voices distorted by static. Gavin screamed in shock. They would get him. They were in the room and Gavin wouldn’t be out fast enough to escape. So, he could only press against the metal door and hold up his hands in defence. He waited for the first blow to hit him and pressed his eyes close.

It didn’t come. Instead the door in his back gave way and he fell backwards into three strong hands, that pushed him back into a standing position. By now, Gavin was shaking all over, but the fact that he hadn’t been killed yet made him open one eye. The two androids supporting each other had backed up a bit and the two in his back had moved around to join them. The one-armed with the blue eyes stepped towards him, offering a hand. ‘Hello, I am RK900, this is Ralph’, he pointed to the one next to him. ‘And this is Ralph and Daniel.’ The three others gave him an awkward little wave.

‘W-What do you want?’, Gavin asked, not daring to take the hand the RK900 still held out for him. ‘We have been woken up. Tomorrow we will be repaired. We wanted to thank you for keeping an eye on us.’ Gavin stood there dumbfounded and managed to lean his back against the table not to collapse. ‘We are sorry if we scared you’, the one introduced as Jerry added. Gavin sighed, adrenaline now vanished from his systems causing him to feel nothing but exhaustion. He rubbed his forehead. ‘Are you alright?’, the RK900 asked. ‘The cameras don’t record sound, this was the only way to reach you.’

Gavin groaned and took out his phone to give Tina the all-clear first. ‘Yeah, I’m alright. I suppose I just watched a few horror movies too many…’

#Detroit become human #dbh #dbh Halloween #Halloween short #Gavin Reed #five nights at freddy's au

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fruitbur · 5 years ago

Note

(bursts into inbox) thAT ASK MEME WITH ALL THE OCS U TAGGED (or just pick and choose but i genuinely would love to know all of them if u want afhdsgjsdhdjd) - darkwarfy

i'm going to start with the easy ones and end with the ones i haven't even talked about to you.

Red-

Full Name: Aaron Cupid Williams

Gender and Sexauilty: Male (trans) and Demisexual

Pronouns: He/Him

Ethnicity/Species: Tribrid of Fae, WARLOCK, and Demon.

Birthplace and Birthdate: His birthplace is unknown to HIM so therefore it won't be stated. he was born on Halloween but the year is also unknown.

Guilty Pleasures: Dancing and Singing. his mother never allowed him to do anything fun when he lived with her (besides reading) so he hides that side of him.

Phobias: Spiders, water, and the dark.

What They Would Be Famous For: besides being the only one of his kind? his singing, there is just something about it.. i wonder what?

What They Would They Be Arrested For: destroying prisons and freeing wrongly captured supernaturals.

OC You Ship Them With: No one, Red is too young to date throughout most of the stories he is in.

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Iris (his mom) or Icarus

Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Favorite movie would be Shark Boy and Lava Girl, he loves kids movies. Book genre is sci-fi or adventure stories.

Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: For movies it has to Coraline and book cliche is the hero or hero's lover/bestfriend dying for the greater good.

Talents and/or Powers: Talents would be as i said before his dancing and singing. his powers? jesus Red has a LOT. He can do basic magic, he can light himself on fire in a blue magic flame before it spreads around himself. telepathy, teleportation, and "invisibility" (that's more lore stuff) not really a power but he can control his appearance (his was born with baby blue skin and light purple hair but his mother taught him to hide that side to blend in with humans) he has a ribbon spell that he can call them to wrap his wrists and his controls them (i.e pulling and wrapping up his targets) he has another spell that does the same thing called flower power (this with rose vines) that he uses to hurt someone if need be. okay this is getting too long but he has more.

Why Someone Might Love Them: He is such a sweet kid and lights up the rooms he is in. you can't help but love him.

Why Someone Might Hate Them: Red can be a little troublemaker and cause chaos for fun. which gets annoying when shit goes down.

How They Change: Red always thought he was just a weapon, a tool for a war that was never coming. as he grows up and lives on his own with Angel, he changes to be someone full of love for not just others, but himself.

Why You Love Them: Red was my first ever OC. He has been through so much changes and growth and i think i finally love him as he is now.

Angel - (i'm gonna shorten the questions so this doesn't get too long)

Full Name: Nope- that's lore and i wanna tell you that Later.

Gender: Female (Trans), Lesbian.

Pronouns: she/her

Ethnicity/Species: loosely based on the mayans, a necromancer, and a clockwork angel necklace.

Birthplace: Her village in that universe's Tulum. Birthdate... she's existed for over 2000 years, who knows how old she is truly.

Guilty Pleasures: Gardening and painiting.

Phobias: the water. just- the water.

Famous For: bringing the dead back to life with ease.

Arrested For: Killing witches who mess with Red.

OC Shipped: I ship her with Niko, two crazy girls who just want bodies.

OC Murder: Iris again, or Lexi (not doing her, she isn't too important rn)

Favorite Movie/Book Genre: she doesn't watch movies that often because she is ya know.. trapped. but when Red can watch something other than kids movies, Angel finds herself loving romance movies, hasn't picked a favorite yet. Books though? cook books! she enjoys learning about food even though she can't eat.

Least Favorite: Horror, just like Red. or anything with water. nothing against mermaids or wildlife, but she's seen enough of the sea for 10 lifetimes at least. Cliche would be evil necromancers, screw that.

Talents: Her painting are to die for. powers??? now this is going to be fun. Angel can bring back the dead, use her magic to move things and grab people. over the course of her time trapped, she has learned how to possess whomever wears her, which leads to some fun beat downs with both Red and Angel working as a single unit. oh did i mention Angel really loves to mess around with blood magic? she was the only one who was able to master it before the witches attacked.

Love Them: Someone would love her becauss how passionate and nurturing she is. also because she enjoys cracking jokes in the safety of the clockwork during the WORST of times.

Hate Them: the witches hated her for her powers and that she was "sick" in the head for enjoying blood magic.

How They Change: Angel had to learn to live as a soul for so long, slowly forgetting what it means to be a living person, that has to be bad for her mental health.

Love Them 2: Angel has become one of my favorites because of how much i've put thought into who she is.

Niko -

Name: she still hasn't came up with a last name, might just take Angel's :)

Gender and Sexuality: Nonbinary and pansexul

Pronouns: she/her

Ethnicity/Species: Biracial, Japanse and Guyanese, a life sized Drawing Mannequin.

Birthplace: a black market factory that makes life sized objects to be used by witches. Birthdate, before 2016, at least.

Guilty Pleasures: ripping the skin off of witches for shit and giggles. oh and grooming dogs!

Phobias: none, nothing phases her.

Famous for: her spine chilling laugh.

Arrested for: all the murders she's done, that is, if she was ever caught.

OC Shipped: Angel of course.

OC Murder: any and all witches, Lexi, Syd.

Favorite Movie/Book: nope and nope! too busy living in the moment to sit down in one place, besides not have real hands. so the next question is useless.

Talents: is flawlessly ripping skin off of a living person a talent? Niko would say so. besides just living, Niko can change her shape into any type of doll/mannequin drawing or otherwise to hide in stores.

Love Them: she is a funny gal! creepy as shit but loyal once you've gained her trust.

Hate Them: "she. skins. people." -Syd at least 20 times.

How They Change: goes from a manic doll to a somewhat a stable person with the power of lOvE.

Love Them 2: She is perfect for Angel and that's enough for me.

Trinity -

Name: Trinity Wither Lakes

Gender: Female, Bisexual.

Pronouns: she/her.

Eithnicity/Species: Biracial, Polynesian, and African American. Werewolf and Siren.

Birthplace: Kaneohe, Hawaii. 3/17/1999.

Guilty Pleasures: Running in the woods in the middle of the night.

Phobias: being half wolf, she fears anything with silver, oh and blood.

Famous for: her speed.

Arrested for: graffiti and other forms of vandalism.

OC Shipped: Abigail. (not doing her either, sorry!)

OC Murder: Lexi, Raph, her grandparents.

Favorite Movie: Twilight and The Twilight Saga. she loves quoting the movies and books to piss everyone off, making it her favorites. Cliche would enimes to lovers.

Least Favorite: The Princess Bride, she just doesn't Get It. Cliche would be anything with angry werewolves or evil sirens. "we aren't your tropes, humans" -Trinity everytime she reads or watches something with a sexy but evil siren.

Talents: all the perks of being wolf and siren, nothing to add really.

Love Them: she is headstrong and makes for a good leader for a rebellion.

Hate Them: too loud, doesn't back down from a fight. will not shut up if someone is wronging her in public.

Change: she goes from the sheltered girl from her family's home in California to the loud rebel in Texas.

Love Them 2: Trin is like me, i don't know when to quit. if someone wrongs me i will scream it from the roof tops before i let them get away with it.

Syd -

Name: Syd Brimstone Lockwood

Gender: Female, Bisexual.

Pronouns: she/her

Ethnicity/Species: Caucasian, human.

Birthplace: Boston, Massachuestts. 4/20/1999

Guilty Pleasures: shitty reality tv, she lives for the drama. also magic, she has always been skeptical of the existence of magic so she spends much of her time researching and tracking down sightings of magic usage.

Phobias: None that i can think of.

Famous for: her deadpan delivery and humor/her resting bitch face.

Arrested for: stalking "known" supernaturals.

OC Shipped: Ainsel.

OC Murder: anyone who she follows would kill her, mainly Lexi or Raph though.

Favorite Movie: IT (2017) or a Purge movie. favorite cliche would be any boring, human trope. so like a coffee shop au.

Least Favorite: Harry Potter (okay she really enjoys the third one but she'd never admit it), cliche, would be magic. (she doesn't hate it, just that she doesn't believe.)

Talents: breaking and entering. "that's a fucking talent and you know it, Ains! i've never been caught in my life." -Syd. she is human so no powers.

Love Them: over protective of the ones she loves. would fight anyone to save Ainsel and she'd win.

Hate Them: her skepticism makes it hard for her to make friends and tears groups apart.

Change: after she meets a certain someone, she finally lets go of her overbearing skepticism and borderline hatred.

Love Them 2: i just love her character.

Ainsel -

Name: Ainsel Raven James

Gender: Female (Trans), Asexaul.

Pronouns: she/her.

Ethnicity/Species: African American (she has albinism), human.

Birthplace: Middletown, New York. 5/18/2002.

Guilty Pleasures: painting on herself, walking in the rain with no umbrella.

Phobias: fire. "You can't control it Sy-Sy!!! what if you drop that match huh?! we could go up in flames! i don't want to burn away!"

Famous For: her looks, or her happy go lucky nature.

Arrested For: Jay walking to get away from a monster or someone chasing her and Syd.

OC Shipped: Syd.

OC Murder: Lexi or Raph.

Favorite Movie: Tangled. Cliche, a happy ending.

Least Favorite: Monty Python and The Holy Grail. Cliche, a dog dying.

Talents: Her impeccable timing, always seeming to get Syd out of trouble before she is caught. "Nuh uh! none of that miss "breaking and entering!"" -Ainsel. Again a human so no powers.

Love Them: her optimism and acceptance of magic and the supernatural. how she loves everyone so fiercely and stands for what is right.

Hate Them: how happy and full of light she seems to be.

Change: She starts to stick up for herself more and learns how to fight back.

Love Them 2: i love how happy she is, i want to be that comfortable in my own skin like her.

Sebastain -

Name: Sebastain A. Montague

Gender: Male, Aromantic, Asexaul.

Pronouns: he/him.

Ethnicity/Species: Caucasian, Vampire and Sorcerer.

Birthplace: Venice, Italy. 7/25/1462

Guilty Pleasures: Ballroom Dancing. Drinking straight from the pulse.

Phobias: the sun, even if he can walk in the daylight.

Famous For: his charm and "naturally" good looks.

Arrested For: a string of murders in the east coast of the US.

OC shipped: no one, the only thing close to a relationship he has is his friendship with Red long into the future.

OC Murder: Syd tries, but she finds it's hard to kill something already dead.

Favorite Movie: he has lived for so long, he finds his memories are better than what you'll find in those picture shows. he does enjoy reading poems by Edgar Allan Poe or any of Dickinson's works. (skipping the next question)

Talents: Dancing and cooking. Powers, compulsion (vampire mind control), and the basic skillsets a sorcerer has.

Love Them: his charm, though their love is misplaced, is appreciated.

Hate Them: he is a world class bastard who knows how to use his charms to get what he wants, you.

Change: He learns to be nicer to people and not view them as just a food source.

Love Them 2: he is one cocky bastard but i wouldn't trade him for any other bitch out there.

Irri -

Name: Iradeseca the Faithful

Gender: Genderfluid, pansexual. (in a poly relationship).

Pronouns: any, but mainly goes by she/her.

Ethnicity/Species: she's.. she's an alien boss. (oqjsgsyisha) anyways she is from a race called The Marked Ones. i'll tell you all about them soon. Irri is of the Shifter classification, and is the last pure blood shifter left.

Birthplace: their (the girlfriends/partners) home planet, in the palace of the shifters. (no date because lore reasons, this will be the same for her girlfriends.)

Guilty Pleasures: her partners 😏

Phobias (more like fears): explosions, drowning, losing her girlfriends.

Famous For: her shifting ability.

Arrested For: well... L O R E

OC Shipped: Betrix, Calenni, and Desa.

OC Murder: lore

They are aliens, so i'm skipping these questions.

Talents: her speed. she is a shifter, so she can shape shift into her true form (a ice fox) and into her more humanesque form. (having two arms and two legs)

Love Them: her mysterious but gentle presence

Hate Them: her special skill and the fact she is dating Calenni and Desa in particular.

Change: Irri changes from being controlled by an oppressive regime.

Love Them 2: She is my second oldest oc, she will always have a special place in my heart.

Betrix -

Name: The Stoic Betrix

Gender: Genderfluid, pansexaul. (in a poly relationship)

Pronouns: she/her or he/him.

Ethnicity/Species: The Marked Ones, Bender classification.

Birthplace: on their home planet, in a abandoned temple of the benders.

Guilty Pleasures: smiling and being happy.

Phobias: being alone and losing his girlfriends.

Famous For: her calm, unphased demeanor.

Arrested For: same reason as Irri and Desa.

OC Shipped: Irri, Calenni, and Desa.

OC Murder: WOAH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT, LORE!!!

Talents: being able to take everything thrown at him without saying a word (punches, kicks, fire, etc etc). bending people in half without moving a muscle. being a bender means she can bend spaces and minds with no difficulty, leading him to control the person's mind.

Love Them: No matter what happens to her, Betrix always gets back up with twice the amount of power and the same amount of complaints, zero. a man of little words unless he is with his partners.

Hate Them: WHY WON'T SHE STAY DOWN? STOP FIGHTING ALREADY!!! dating Calenni and Desa

Change: Betrix learns how to open up more and use her words because she is allowed to speak.

Love Them 2: She is a badass. who needs to speak when you can just knock the asshole over with one push.

Calenni -

Name: Calenni the Creative

Gender: Genderfluid and pansexual. (in a poly relationship)

Pronouns: she/her and sometimes called they/them by Betrix.

Ethnicity/Species: The Marked Ones, Creator classification.

Birthplace: On their home planet, on her family's estate.

Guilty Pleasures: being taken care of, not always the one leading things.

Phobias: bugs, filith, losing her partners.

Famous For: looking like a flower or a tiny pixie creature.

Arrested for: nothing because of lore reeasons

OC Shipped: Irri, Betrix, and Desa.

OC Murder: lore.

Talents: everything she creates is one of a kind and priceless. She is a creator so she is able to make whatever comes to mind with just a tap of her fingers. and is always changing how she appearance due to creating new shapes and forms.

Love Them: she speaks out against what was happening with the creators and risked her lives for her partners, nearly dying for them.

Hate Them: didn't sit back and be the little princess she was supposed to.

Change: learned how to be independent while being able to depend on her loves.

Love Them 2: Calenni said eat the rich even if that means eat me too.

Desa -

Name: Desa the Kind

Gender: Genderfluid and pansexual (in a poly relationship)

Pronouns: any but mainly she/her.

Ethnicity/Species: The Marked Ones, Destroyer classification.

Birthplace: on their home planet, in the woods far away from civilization.

Guilty Pleasures: creating stuff!!! being able to just live and feel love and acceptance.

Phobias: destroying the ones she loves. being alone, losing her partners.

Famous For: being understanding and not judgmental.

Arrested for: lore- but also just for being caught with Calenni.

OC Shipped: Irri, Betrix, Calenni.

OC Murder: lore, but anyone but her partners.

Talents: Her forgiveness. Being able to destroy whole planets by just being on them. Detroyers can eliminate anything in their paths with little to no struggle.

Love Them: ??? what is not to love??? she is such a friggin sweetheart who wants to spend all eternity with her sweethearts.

Hate Them: being born.

Change: girl has it ROUGH let me tell you. but in the end it'll all work out and a much happier, healthier Desa will make it out on the other side.

Love Them 2: "all i want is to love what i can not destroy with a single touch, then and only then, i'll be at peace" -Desa.

BONUS!!!! BONUS ROUND!!!!

Iris -

Name: Iris the Lurer

Gender: Female and Straight (😔)

Pronouns: she/her

Ethnicity/Species: Greater Demon (dark gray/light purple complexion)

Birthplace: in the demon realm, before mankind was created.

Guilty Pleasures: using her kids as weapons to orchestrate a war. oh and 90 Day Fiance on TLC.

Phobias: love and weakness from her children.

Famous For: her natural rainbow hair.

Arrested For: mass genocide.

OC Shipped: Icarus (two slimey bastards)

OC Murder: ANGEL AND RED LIKE THE BAD BITCHES THEY ARE 😤💯

Favorite Movie: The Birdcage. Cliche would be main villainess destroying the land.

Least Favorite: The Hunger Games. "so over rated and boring CGI, why do humans enjoy this?" -Iris

Talents: being the worst mother alive, making your child into a monstrosity to benefit your delusions. her powers are mostly mental manipulation and normal demon theatrics.

Love Them: being confident, commanding, and full of herself.

Hate Them: everything she has ever done after breaking free from the demon realm with Icarus.

Change: maybe if she gets murdered she'll finally change.

Love Them 2: i like working with a villain, morally gray character like her.

THIS TOOK ALL DAY WOANSGEUOWMSB I HAVEN'T LEFT THIS TAB ALL DAY.

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dilliebar · 5 years ago

Text

I Don’t Want to Talk About It: A Dillie Fic

Hey guys! I wrote another Ellie/Dina fanfic, hopefully it’ll make your day a little better among all the hate out there right now. Enjoy!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23977564

Months after their first kiss, Ellie and Dina still haven't talked about it. Eventually the tension rises, and eventually, something has to break.

A month into summer, and Ellie was already done with partying, drinking, and pretty much the entire scene of teenagers making bad decisions. While she would be inside reading one of her beloved comics or just outside of Jackson hunting with nothing but her bow at her side, everyone else her age would probably be out somewhere hooking up or getting wasted. But despite her differences, everyone still had the responsibility of going out on patrol once in a while, and today was her turn to go on a two-day patrol with Dina.

For Ellie it was a relief. The two of them were almost polar opposites when it came to social interaction, and if she had to show up to yet another one of those parties Dina dragged her to only to end up walking home alone again, she would probably feed herself to a clicker.

Seemingly for Dina, however, the patrol wasn’t on her mind at all.

“I swear Jesse just set this up so we couldn’t go to the bonfire tonight.”

Ellie remained silent as the two of them tracked along on their horses, Dina going on and on about her jealous ex-boyfriend and how out-to-get-her he was. The taller girl couldn’t help but notice the little tinge of something in her chest at the way her friend was talking about him. Was it jealousy? No, it couldn’t be.

“I mean really, you’ve noticed it too, right?”

She continued to stare off into space, caught in her thoughts until the sudden silence made Ellie realize that Dina was awaiting an answer.

“Oh. I dunno,” she shrugged, “we haven’t been out in a while, and there’s a party pretty much every night. We’d have to miss something at some point.”

Dina hummed in agreement.

After their first kiss at the dance a few months before, neither of them really brought it up, except the one time when Dina practically forced Ellie to rate it on a scale from 1-10, which only resulted in her sarcastic response of “three”.

Sometimes she could feel the tension between them, but whether it was a good or bad tension was yet to be determined. Ellie was never too good at reading the mood when it came to flirting, and putting off the conversation only seemed to make the tension become thicker and thicker until she almost felt that they were pushing each other apart like the same ends of different magnets.

She often questioned if it was all in her head, but the more Dina talked about Jesse, the more she was convinced that it wasn’t.

Eventually the two rolled up to their destination: a small rural town by the name of Wilson just a little bit west of Jackson. It was a quaint town, but the amount of farming equipment made it a popular spot to scavenge for spare parts and fuel, and despite its appearance, it actually held a few nice shops in the middle. Ellie and Dina had never been there before, but from what they’d heard they would probably come back with a decent amount of supplies.

They roamed down the main road for a bit, keeping an eye out for any major gold-mines.

“Everything actually looks pretty looted.” Ellie commented, and it was true. From what was marked on the map, which was practically nothing, and what little was left of the bare machinery, there wasn’t really much that the two of them could take back to Jackson. At least, that’s what Ellie thought, anyway.

“Hey look! Over there.”

Ellie’s eyes followed Dina’s pointed finger over to what looked to be an old, grown-over antique store. Part of the roof was caved in, with cracks in the walls running up each side of the building. Sure enough, it wasn’t crossed out on the map, but Ellie wasn’t convinced.

“That place looks like a death trap” she laughed.

“Oh come on, it doesn’t look that bad,” Dina soothed, “We’ll stick to the non-caved in part, how about that?”

Ellie shook her head, “Lead the way.”

The two tied up their horses to the bike rack outside and began to look for a way in, but alas, the front door was blocked off from the inside, and the back entrance was locked with a keypad, because of course it was. Breaking the glass windows wasn’t too good of an idea, either, considering the fact that they had no clue what kind of infected were in there, and they were already low on ammunition as it was.

Dina turned to the taller girl, “I think there might only be one way in.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow and contemplated for a minute before realizing what she meant.

“No.” she stated firmly.

“But-”

“There’s no way that you can make me walk on top of that thing, all for some glorified alarm clocks and maybe a teapot.”

“Come on, maybe there’s some cool comics in there.” Dina tempted.

“Dude.”

They both fell silent, each waiting for the other to do something. It was moments like this when Ellie had no clue what the shorter girl was thinking, if they were just joking around or if they were actually having a disagreement. It was the kind of tension that had surrounded them since their kiss, and it was infuriating.

Ellie looked at Dina, their eyes meeting in a tension-filled glance. But she could never look deep into those brown pools for long, and after a brief moment she turned back towards her horse to grab the map.

“Listen, let’s just keep looking, okay? I’m sure there’s some more stuff out-”

But Dina wasn’t listening, and when Ellie turned around, she was halfway up the rusted ladder on the side of the building.

Ellie hesitated for a moment, not sure whether she should follow the girl into that building she just knew would get one or both of them hurt or killed, or just decide to stick by the horses, trusting that Dina could handle herself regardless of what was in that creepy ass excuse for a shop.

But the latter didn’t seem like an option.

Fuck it.

Ellie raced up the ladder as if her life depended on it, her hands gripping the rough rungs one after the other, but when she got to the roof, her friend was nowhere to be seen. “Dina?” she called through the collapsed part of the roof, but yet there was no response. On one hand, she couldn’t hear any obvious sounds of any infected, but the lack of Dina’s voice still worried her to no end.

She could see that the collapsed part of the roof sloped violently downward into some knocked-over bookcases, with various hardcovers littering the hardwood floor. The rest of the room, unlit by the opening, was dark, and even with her flashlight Ellie couldn’t see where in the damn hell Dina was among all the leftover junk that no one bothered to take.

Ellie called out to the girl again, with still no response, but with the squinting of her eyes she could make out a still figure in the back of the store, downed and unconscious.

“Shit shit shit.”

That’s when, without thinking twice, she took a step forward, and the ceiling cracked under her. She quickly lost her footing and before she knew it, she tumbled down the opening in the roof before her back hit the pile of books and all of the air left her lungs. It was a hefty fall, maybe ten feet or so, but after remembering why she was down there in the first place she quickly recovered.

Ellie grabbed for her flashlight without any luck, got up, and brushed herself off, ignoring the pain in her back and beginning to make her way to the back of the room where she saw the younger girl. Her attempts to call out for Dina were met with nothing but silence.

She approached slowly, her arms out in front of her, making sure she didn’t run into anything in the dark and that there weren’t any infected lurking around the hundred-year-old antiques before she finally reached down.

But the arm she was touching was cold and hard, almost like plastic.

And that’s when the head fell off.

“BOO!”

Ellie fell over in shock, with a sudden beam of light shown in her face. When she looked back down at the figure, she realized her mistake.

A fucking mannequin.

She looked up at the person who held that familiar voice; a voice she would know anywhere.

“What the fuck, Dina?!”

Dina turned the flashlight out of Ellie’s eyes to reveal her pretty much dying from laughter. She was fine, without even a scratch.

“You totally should’ve seen your face!”

Ellie got up off the ground for the second time that day, too shocked and annoyed by the situation to even respond. She stormed off back to the pile of books in an attempt to find her flashlight, and Dina non-hesitantly followed.

Ellie knew it was a joke. She knew that this was the playful banter and stupid pranks that they had engaged in together before all this tension began to build. It was a fun thing, but eventually something had to snap.

“See? I told you this place wasn’t that ba-” “Dude, it could’ve been that bad!”

Ellie turned around sharply and looked Dina dead in the eye, her own filled more with concern and confusion than anger. The shorter girl was taken aback, never having seen a rise out of Ellie this abrupt before. Neither of them knew what to say, and so Dina asked.

“What’s your problem?”

The taller girl scoffed, “What’s my problem?”

“Yes, dude. You’ve been all weird for weeks!”

“I’ve been weird?! At least I don’t drag girls to random parties every night just to leave them hanging and make them awkwardly stand in the corner!”

Dina crossed her arms, “I’ve been flirting with you every time, you dumbass! You’re just too blind to see it!”

Now it was Ellie who asked.

“What?”

Dina rolled her eyes, uncrossing her arms and sticking her hands in her pockets. The heat of the conversation began to even out a bit.

“I don’t know, I thought the kiss a while ago made everything pretty obvious.”

Ellie just stared, frozen in place.

“And all those times I’ve ‘dragged’ you to come with me…” for the first time in the conversation, she hesitated, “I was hoping you would make a move one of those nights, okay?”

The words stalled, and Ellie took a step forward apologetically, “Dina, I-”

“I thought you felt the same way, as stupid as that sounds,” she mocked herself, “But it’s fine. I won’t bring it up again, alright?”

Dina went to turn away when she felt Ellie’s soft hand on her wrist pulling her back. Their eyes met again, and unlike the gaze they held earlier today, this one was understanding, loving, and Ellie couldn’t bring herself to look away.

“I do feel that way,” she corrected, “We never talked about it- the kiss, I mean- and I just wasn’t really sure if that’s what you wanted.”

Dina grabbed the taller girl’s hand, and whispered in the smallest voice,

“Then let’s talk about it.”

Ellie shook her head, letting go of her hands and lightly taking the shorter girl’s face in her palms.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Then she closed the gap between them, and when their lips met for the second time they could feel any tension that was left melt away, almost as if it had never been there in the first place. Fire ran through Ellie’s veins, igniting a spark she had only felt once before with Dina, and the other girl was just as submissive to the feeling.

Dina’s hands made their way to the back of the taller girl’s neck, deepening the kiss. She had kissed lots of people before, but way the softness of Ellie’s lips felt against her own and the taste of lingering whiskey didn’t compare to any other feeling in her life, other than maybe a handful of things she could imagine in that moment, all having to do with Ellie.

Breaking the kiss for air was painful, almost as if it were more important than breathing. They leaned their foreheads against each other, each one of them trying to catch their breath.

“Okay, but we definitely have to talk about that.”

Ellie laughed before leaning in again to leave a brief kiss on the shorter girl’s lips, then pulling back and taking her hands in her own.

“You wish.”

#the last of us #the last of us part 2 #the last of us part two #the last of us ii #tlou #tlou2 #tlou ii #tlou ellie #tlou dina #ellie x dina #ellie and dina #dina and ellie #dina x ellie #tloup2 #fanfic

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clansayeed · 5 years ago

Text

Things Worth Keeping, or the Annual Raines Corp. Fourth of July Charity Gala

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil)

⥼ Summary ⥽

Kamilah takes great care in preserving some of the more sentimental articles of clothing she's acquired over the years. Nadya realizes she might have a historical costume kink.

word count: 2,775 rating: teen+ content warnings: language, brief political discourse, implied sexual undertones, implied kink

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

So it turns out every time there’s an event that requires Kamilah’s attendance (specifically requires, since the Awakening Ball was both some weird vampire-political obligation and her wanting to see Marcel again) the mannequins come out.

Only for costume events though.

Or… she’s decided ‘every’ just because what are the chances she’s lucky enough to behold the sight of Kamilah Sayeed in period wear twice in one year? Apparently very good, very good indeed.

The vampire takes it upon herself to explain while fussing with a few collars and sleeves rumpled in transit. Nadya takes it upon herself to listen intently — takes everything in her willpower not to take notes. “Indeed one comes to terms rather early on that all objects are replaceable and their worth is only what the owner projects upon them,” which is quite a lot judging by the little smile Nadya sees peeking at the corner of Kamilah’s lips as she works, “and because I have had the misfortune of losing things I once coveted, I see no harm in preserving that which has stayed with me.”

Nadya adjusts her seat on the couch; makes sure the lid on her travel mug is secure otherwise she’ll never be allowed to drink in the front room again. “Is that a really fancy way of saying ‘I think it’s really pretty and I want to keep it that way?’”

Kamilah goes still. Not the tense kind of still that makes Nadya want to stuff her words back in her mouth but the kind of still she’s come to understand will reap very wise rewards. If she’s patient enough.

She’s learning to be patient enough.

“I suppose if you wish to bring the sentiment down to the simplest terms… yes.”

And oh man even that little agreement has Nadya buzzing excited.

“I’m so excited — this is gonna be so much fun!”

“What it will be, Nadya, is a gross exaggeration more akin to a serial drama than the real thing.”

“Wow, grumpy pants. Where’s your sense of patriotism?”

“In the same gutter as the ideals on which this nation was founded.”

Okay, fair point. But that brings up a very good series of questions all scrambling to make themselves heard. Which goes about as well as it always does and leaves Nadya tongue-tied and mute.

More than a few times Kamilah throws subtle looks in Nadya’s direction. Totally discreet and casual — done while circling a dress here, adjusting a cravat there. And each time she asks some variation of “Are you sure this is how you wish to spend your evening?” Nadya gives her the same answer.

“There’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.”

The final time Kamilah is just close enough to turn crisp on her heel and bring them face to face. Her deep honey eyes roam Nadya’s face and spare no detail; like she’s one of those pretty dresses Kamilah’s kept after all these years.

It makes Nadya feel small and big, whole down to the tips of her toes but also just a sliver in Kamilah’s long long life. Which is a lot to feel for someone of her size. Maybe too much.

Cool, soft lips on her forehead force Nadya to open eyes she didn’t know she was squeezing shut. No longer scrutinizing, now the vampiress allows them both a rare glimpse behind the mask. To the concern she guards close and reserves for those she cares about.

Adrian, Gerard, Marcel… Nadya.

She cares about me that way. Holy cow.

“You truly mean that.” Kamilah says and it isn’t a question. Kamilah isn’t in the business of asking stupid questions to which she knows the answers — that’s Nadya’s ball game.

“Of course I do.”

“Forgive my surprise.”

“Always.”

It’s just a kiss. People kiss all the time, all over the world. But those people aren’t Nadya and they aren’t kissing Kamilah so they couldn’t possibly know how wonderful and important and loved each one makes her feel.

Along with all the other things that make her squeak when they part. It’s impossible to miss that look in Kamilah’s gaze.

“While I enjoy your company immensely Nadya… I may have to ask you to leave,” even though the trace of her finger over Nadya’s lips kind of contradicts that, “as I do have to attend a conference call before the night is through.”

Nadya doesn’t even care that her pout is a little childish. “I thought you took the day off for this.”

“I took a half day for this. You were the one who insisted on losing an entire night’s productivity to help me choose my attire.”

“I’ll be quiet?” There’s no harm in trying, right? Thankfully Kamilah still seems more amused than anything.

“You misunderstand.”

Does she, though, because there are only so many ways to take the sudden closeness. Kamilah’s hands braced atop the back of the couch pinning Nadya between the cushion and her permanence, the contradictory darkness in her bright eyes with their lowered lashes, and oh my god that smirk…

Then Kamilah’s leaning in to whisper in her ear and she’s just—just jello, absolute jello. “I had hoped to be finished by now, yet I keep finding myself distracted.”

Jello or not though Nadya will always be Nadya.

“I—I can leave, if… if that’s what you want.” I know work is important to you. I know schedules are important to you even though your organizational methods are outdated and frankly anxiety-inducing. I know you have a lot to get done and only so many hours of moonlight to do it…

Kamilah doesn’t answer. Instead just taps the underside of Nadya’s chin with her pointer finger and gives a smile in reward when the human lifts her head obediently.

“What do you want, Nadya?”

You know what I want, she would normally say, but if she did then all their… all their training would be for nothing. And don’t memories of that (as recent as, uhm, three in the afternoon today) make her zone out somewhere over Kamilah’s shoulder.

Seven mannequins; still headless, still creepy. Four beautiful ballgowns and a priceless Egyptian kalasiris†, a definitely custom-tailored zoot suit, and…

Holy broad stripes and bright stars.

“I asked you a question.”

Oh yeah, she’s definitely wearing that.

Kamilah doesn’t have to remind her twice. Nadya leans forward what little she can; basks shamelessly in the one thing in the entire world she knows she’s earned—

The way Kamilah looks at her with absolute pride.

“You. I want you.”

Its so fulfilling to see all her hard work come together in one place, on one night, and with the promise of fireworks to come. There’s just something about fireworks. She loves ‘em.

Jax lets out his fifth heavy and long-suffering sigh of the minute. A personal best, but Nadya’s having too much fun to ruin the night by telling him.

Unfortunately her hoop skirt makes it hard to sidle up for a hip-check. Cue sigh number six.

“You know I’m technically the hostess for this thing, right?”

“Are you saying you’re the person I complain to?”

She huffs. “No, I’m saying that your grumpy face is personally offending me.”

She can’t tell if he’s purposefully avoiding her eyes out of spite or shame — then a roaring yelp of laughter from the dance floor draws Nadya’s attention out to where Lily and Maricruz spin fast-paced and free; held together by just their hands and their shared looks of ‘I couldn’t care less where I am so long as it’s with you.’

At least that gets a little smile out of Mr. Grumpy-Pants.

A costumed server stops at the pair of them and offers his tray of goodies up like sin. Nadya spares two quick glances over either shoulder — thankfully Adrian has donors to schmooze and Kamilah hasn’t arrived yet — before she plucks a cheese cube carved in the shape of the Liberty Bell.

But it isn’t enough that Jax has to act so unhappy the entire gala — now he’s stealing her snack and eating it himself?! Where’s my purse, where’s my stake?!

What else can she do but gape? He doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed, just chews and chews and swallows while trying to ease the itch in his legs caused by the borrowed hose.

“Lily warned me you might make bad choices.”

So what? I’m a grown woman, I can make bad choices if I want to. “Are all of you in on some big conspiracy to keep me from cheese?”

“If it’ll spare you future pain, yeah.” Which — she wasn’t expecting that. Nadya can’t help but feel her face soften. One look down her way though and he rolls his eyes. “Stop it.”

“You hate my party. You steal my cheese. What’s next, burning my crops and delivering a plague onto my house?”

Jax looks appalled — which is a real shame. That would have gone over so well with Lily. “I—what?!”

Nadya just waves it off though. “Forget it. Just…” oh hey look, time for her own sigh, “forget it.”

“It’s not you. It’s these tights.”

“They’re hose.”

“They itch.”

“Imagine wearing them all the time.”

Nadya is totally enjoying her frilly not-period-accurate-in-the-slightest ensemble but of course Adrian is the only one who looks really right in his whole get up. It’s a good thing he has to wear modern suits and styles or else he’d be pegged for a vampire right away.

Her boss pulls her in for a one-armed hug, expertly outmaneuvering the skirt but he probably has experience with that, huh? And his smile only widens as he takes in Jax in all his colonial glory.

“They were good in the winter, obviously. Though I’ll admit once I didn’t feel the weather anymore the discomfort really presented itself as a problem.”

Jax just rolls his eyes. “Why do I feel like you throw this thing just to say shit like that?” Which— she can tell he’s trying to be sarcastic but Adrian definitely goes tense beside her.

“I ‘throw this thing,’ as you say, because my own personal wealth can only go so far, and most of it is immaterial. But every donation is material, and that maximizes the good I can do with it.”

Nadya nods eagerly. “There’s like six different scholarships in STEM research alone, I think a dozen in the business sector, and when we get to our goal tonight —” she knows they will, Raines Corp. history states they always do and Raines Corp. never had her to push them above and beyond, “— the company’ll have enough to match the city’s bid for the abandoned tunnel reconstruction project.”

If he ever read the minutes she sent him after every Council meeting he’d know this, but when Jax said he didn’t do paperwork he meant he really didn’t do paperwork.

But it’s enough to get his attention. “And what happens then?”

Adrian shrugs. “I postpone it. The most I can do without getting politicians involved is five years but I figure… that should be long enough to either relocate the former Clanless and break even, or fortify the Shadow Den enough that any efforts won’t cause structural damage. Unfortunately Vega’s interim replacement hasn’t officially made her views on such things known, but I think with time —”

It’s—as Lily would put it—freakin’ cinematic. How Adrian’s voice fades away to a buzzing in her ears and Jax’s reply sounds like a mouthful of cotton. The music dims and the lights aren’t as bright except where they fall on her when she strides through the open double doors.

Now let it be known that Nadya firmly believes Kamilah looks amazing in anything. Her power suits, a crimson dress from centuries gone, the plum kimono she uses as a nightgown… Honestly she’d probably somehow make a banana costume look sinfully sexy.

No. What? No. Moving on.

And even though Nadya knew the moment she laid eyes on the uniform it was the non-negotiable choice — her brain put some weird filter on itself to keep her from imagining just what that looked like. Probably to try and keep her sane.

Because the real thing… there are literally no words.

Adrian’s laugh comes both from behind her and a million miles away. “Would you look at that. Now that is a sight that brings back memories.”

“Wow, color me surprised.” Jax deadpans.

Adrian is a close personal friend of the New York Historical Reenactment Society (surprisingly not a bunch of vampires… if there was ever a group suspect but no, she’s checked) and most of them are in attendance tonight. They make Nadya look like her dress—a gift from Adrian, rental only—was bought at a cheap pop-up Halloween store.

And Kamilah makes them look like a middle school theatre cast. There’s just something about the fabric, the way it fits her and the way she carries not just the uniform but her own body inside of it that makes her look authentic. No one would believe her; not with the freshly-oiled leather and polished brass buttons, but Nadya’s chaotic-dumb brain really wants to scream “take a look at the real deal, ya posers!”

Kamilah’s hand rests on the glossy hilt of her saber as she approaches. Eyes passing right over Adrian — probably used to the sight — and sparing Jax absolute no dignity in the soft “ha” she gives.

“I didn’t know we could wear uniforms.”

Kamilah raises an eyebrow and tucks a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. “You… have one?”

“No,” sigh number seven, “but I would’ve tried to find one. Anything to get out of these tights.”

“They were useful during winter.”

Adrian laughs and gestures to her eagerly. “That’s what I said!”

Kamilah wasn’t ignoring her, not on purpose. That’s made obvious the second she finally does take in every skirt and frill, every pearl in her necklace and lets her eyes linger where Nadya’s chest heaves against her corset.

“Nadya, you look as beautiful as ever.” Then Kamilah takes her hand and kisses the back of it with a soldier’s courteous bow. Where’d I leave that dumb lace fan…?

She’s about 99.9% sure Kamilah holding her hand is the only thing keeping her standing right now.

Adrian snickers. Nadya couldn’t care less. “Careful there, General Sayeed††. Your lady seems about to swoon.”

Thankfully the woman takes heed and pulls Nadya close, possibly the most public affection they’ve ever had holy crap on a cracker, resting a hand on the curve of her hip. Yet she looks at Adrian with… what is that, mild annoyance?

“You know very well I was not named General until nearly a century later.”

Jax mouths his silent counting — blanches; “You were a General in the Civil War? You know what — of course you were.”

“A discussion for another day, perhaps.” Kamilah dismisses him just shy of pushing him out the door; lucky for Nadya both he and Adrian take the hint and fade into the cinematic background.

It’s just Nadya and Kamilah now.

“Hello.”

“H-Hi.”

Long fingers brush a strand of Nadya’s hair aside feather-light. “You do look… stunning, Nadya. You look stunning. Blue becomes you yet again.”

Blue? She’s wearing blue? Because her face is scarlet. “You — I mean — wow like…” words Nadya — words, “you really wore that and…” And fought in it?

Kamilah’s nod is curt. “In a sense. My skills were best suited to espionage, sabotage and the like.”

“Of course they were.”

“Though I’m gladdened to know the uniform still becomes me.”

As if it ever wouldn’t. “You look perfect in, like, everything.” But Kamilah’s not a fan of those kinds of blanket statements, so she tries again a little bit more from the heart. “You make a uniform look really good, that’s what I mean.”

The hand on her hip presses down then; important and as on purpose as everything else Kamilah does. Through the fabric right underneath her hand a familiar purpling not-at-all-bruise sings sweet on Nadya’s skin. Of course Kamilah knows where the love bite is. She was the one who gifted it.

“I may be the soldier…” Kamilah pulls her close; a hold of stone — she leans down to ghost a kiss at Nadya’s jaw (and knows it will drive her wilder than wild) and whisper in her ear.

“But you’ll be the one taking orders.”

Nadya’s last coherent thought?

She really needs to find more chances to get Kamilah in costume.

NOTE: While this fic technically exists in the Oblivion Bound universe it works standalone as well, I think. The only references are brief and to Maricruz Espinoza, a vampire original character and girlfriend of Lily, and a sort-of reference to the fact that Marcel survived in my fanfiction. Hopefully it still reads well!

#bloodbound #kamilah x mc #kamilah sayeed #adrian raines #playchoices fanfiction #; my fics #mc: nadya al jamil #jax matsuo

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spideyrights · 5 years ago

Text

Partners (Series) - Detective Loki x Reader

IX. WHAT ARE WE?

series masterlist

O’Malley hands you the drawn maze, the only one recovered from Bob Taylor’s work before turning to Loki with a glare. Loki, upon noticing his heavy gaze, murmurs a sorry under his breath.

“Fuck your sorry. Save it for the girls’ parents,” O’Malley grumbles. Loki doesn’t snark back in response. The two of you stand, entering the office. Loki seats himself on the couch, observing the piece of paper with the maze on it that you had handed to him. You stood as far apart from him as you could manage, instead standing in front of O’Malley desk, your body facing Loki as you watched him entranced by the maze.

“Well...at least I don’t have to worry about losing you to P.S.P” O’Malley pours out three drinks, you deny immediately and he walks over to Loki who looks at the drink before waving him off. O’Malley combines all three in his own glass.

“When forensics is finished with the guy’s place, we’re going to deploy the cadaver dogs,” O’Malley says but Loki doesn’t respond. He turns to you, almost to see whether you could ‘fix’ Loki and his inattentive state but you simply shrug. “Look, kid, we can’t always save the day. All right? We’re just cops. Janitors. So you lost this one, all right? Look you want fulfilment, you need to find a girl. You know? Start a family, have some kids. Let it go.”

O’Malley’s words become a kind of background monologue to the both of you. Loki presses his hands to his ears, his eyes so intently focused on the paper whilst you were intently focused on him. You hesitantly walk towards him, he moves his arms away, looking up to you noticing this before ducking his head back down as if he would see something new in the picture.

“Hey, let’s go,” you say, an almost inaudible whisper of a tone. He raises his hand almost waving you off in a decline. “I’m serious. Leave it alone.” Loki’s head slowly comes up, meeting your eyes from where you stand, your eyes well above where he’s seated. Your voice had a kind of firmness that he’d never heard before, not to anyone let alone to him. He nods hesitantly, standing and slipping past you as you follow closely behind, exiting the office.

“Actually, (Y/L/N), can we have a word?” O’Malley says as you’re steps away from being out of the office. Loki turns back to you, wordlessly asking if you’ll be okay and you nod, shutting the door for him as he leaves. Turning back to O’Malley you offer him a soft, obviously emotionless, smile to lighten the awkward silence he lets sit.

“Listen, kid, I don’t know what kind of magic you’re working on Loki,” You shuffle uncomfortably, shifting your weight to lean on one leg. “But whatever it is, I need you to knock some sense into him right now. Those girls aren’t coming home. And apart from not being a total idiot just then, there’s not more he could have done. We need a brain like his around here so can you just make sure he gets all the clutter out of it in time for your next case?”

You nod and choose not to say anything. You even begin to approach the door but you just can’t help yourself. “Why do you think they’re not coming home?”

“Hmm?”

“You said those girls aren’t coming home.” “We’re over a week and a half missing, what do you expect? Things aren’t always happy endings around here, Detective, you’ll see that soon.”

Your conversation is interrupted by a loud slam outside and you quickly open the door to the office, rushing outside with your hand over your gun holster. The sight you see, however, is slightly more devastating than the threat you assumed would be out there. Loki seems to have shoved all of the items off of his desk in one swift motion and now sat with his head in his hands. He then quickly grasped his keyboard and you jogged over to him, assuming what he was going to do. As you expected he began smashing the keyboard on the desk making keys spill all around until he felt a firm grip on his arms that caused him to drop the keyboard. You spun his chair around, your hands falling on either armrest to stop his chair from moving as you looked him in the eye.

“Hey, you’re done, that’s enough.”

He says nothing and doesn’t move, turning to his desk and toying around with Alex Jones’ plastic RV. You make a vague grunt of frustration at his stubbornness, standing from your crouch. You notice the lingering stares of others in the precinct before quickly diverting your gaze from them and moving to Loki’s desk to tidy up the things he had spilled. You crouch down, sighing as you pick up the pieces of his broken keyboard.

“Hey,” Loki mumbles, noticing what you’re doing. “Don’t-you don’t need to do that, please.” He gently grasps your arm to stop you but you shake his arm off resulting in a very hurt expression from Loki. You reach over to the pictures he’s spilled, taking one in your hand, about to place it back on the desk before you pause, noticing something.

“Where’s the...where’s the....” You shuffle things around absentmindedly making Loki furrow his brows in confusion, moving his chair back to give you room to shuffle around on his desk. You grab the paper drawing from Bob Taylor, holding the pieces next to each other. The pattern of the necklace seems to resemble the ‘maze’ Bob Taylor drew. Loki, hovering over your shoulder, notices too what you’ve seen and mumbles a ‘shit’ under his breath.

You’re interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing, to which he reacts by patting around on his body, unsure of where his phone is. You, knowing him and where he keeps his phone, reach into his top pocket and answer for him. Loki watches intently as you react to the call and gives you a questioning look when you hang up.

“We need to go to Bob Taylor’s house.”

“Guys, let us have a look.” Rich, who you’d come to know as the forensics guy in charge, had called you and Loki here to take a look at the house they had been endlessly examining for a while now and safe to say the contents of the house was just as creepy as they had been expecting.

“Two kid-sized department store mannequins, with their heads caved in. I talk to our lab guys and they told me all the blood we sampled from the plastic containers, pig’s blood.” You stood with your hand crossed over your body, your leather-glove clad hands rubbing your sides through your grey trench coat. Loki was undisturbed by the cold, his gaze fixed uneasily on the plastic bodies in the soil. The pregnant pause was unsettling and something felt distant between the two of you, like Loki’s mind was someplace completely different to where it had been this whole case. Someplace completely different to where it had been in the locker room earlier.

“All right you guys let’s get this covered up. It’s supposed to snow soon.” Rich’s words jolted you out of your thoughts and you and Loki walked side-by-side following him into the house. You stepped in warily, observing the masses of people bagging evidence. The house was eerily empty compared to when you had last been there. The pattern on the wall was a dull reminder of Bob Taylor’s fate.

“It’s like he’s play-acting. Case in point, except for the items IDed by the Dovers and the Birches, all the kids’ clothes that we found still had tags on them. And that maze book that we found, he made it. Photocopies, picture from this book we found in the attic. Ex-FBI agent wrote that,” Rich explained, pointing at the book which lay on the table.

“Finding the Invisible Man,” you read aloud. “I think I’ve read it before.” Loki turns to you with a quirked brow, a look that practically says ‘of course you have’ in no words and it makes your lips turn up gently, relieved that he still had a ghost of himself around.

“Its about a theoretical suspect he believed was responsible for a bunch of child abductions. It’s totally discredited, I guess, but I read some of it," Rich explains and you nod along, vaguely recalling the story. Loki stepped away, pacing the length of the kitchen in thought

“Taylor was abducted when he was a kid. He ran away after three weeks. The captor drugged him on some sort of LSD-Ketamine cocktail. He never remembered and they never caught the guy.”

“Okay, so, he read the book and decided he was taken by the Invisible Man. Now he’s doing his best imitation, right?”

Loki turned away, avoiding eye contact and you breathed out gently knowing exactly where his train of thought was headed. “Yeah, he was doing his best imitation. He killed himself last night.”

“How did he do that? I thought he was in custody.” You sent Rich a looked that basically told him to drop it and Loki, who didn’t want to have that conversation either, said nothing in response, his mind clearly elsewhere. He finally paused his pacing in front of you, his eyes narrowed in thought, as he pulled out the paper maze you had handed to him as the both of you left.

“Hey, Taylor drew this. It’s a map to the bodies,” he says, shoving his finger at the paper to make a point which only seemed to startle Rich more as he sent you an unsure look. “We found the same design on a pendant we pulled off that corpse the other day. There's a connection, okay?”

“Connection is that it’s the last maze in the book. It’s unsolvable. There’s no way out. Your corpse is another ‘wannabe’, read the book” Loki was unimpressed by the answer, that was an understatement as a matter of fact. His face contorted into an expression of anger, one you had only seen a few times before. Loki was rarely one to show expression, never one to show emotion to others; you were really the only exception and he knew that. He was okay with it even, he knew you were the only person he would be vulnerable with and he’d subconsciously decided you were the only person he’d want to be vulnerable with for the rest of his life but he didn’t know what that meant or how to tell you that. So he didn’t. But now you were seeing Loki having a real. legitimate outburst, one he could not control.

“What are you saying to me, Rich? What are you saying? What are you saying, that this guys is fake? You’re saying that the girls are still out there somewhere? How did Bob Taylor get those clothes? How did the parents...positively ID those clothes?”

You and Rich both stood silently in the painstaking aftermath of Loki’s words. You had nothing to say, it wasn’t you he wanted to hear from. You looked to Rich who was evidently uncomfortable. You think he might have come upon the realisation you had on your second day of working this case with Loki. He doesn’t just want to solve it, he needs to solve it.

“That I can’t reconcile.”

“You can’t reconcile that?”

Rich left, sending random orders to members of forensics he passed, clearly just relieved to be free of Loki’s incessant questioning. Loki turned to you, expecting you to be ready to leave but instead he saw your eyes fixated in the distance out of concentration.

“What? What is it?” he questioned, noting your thoughtful expression. “Your notebook, can I have it?” you mumbled, your mind still deep in thought, before you finally broke your gaze away from the window and to Loki. He nodded, mildly confused, before rifling through his pockets and pulling the notebook out. As soon as he handed it to you, you flicked through it hurriedly alerting him and making him stand beside you, peering to see what you had landed on in his own notebook.

IN THE HOUSE WINDOW - OPEN?

Upon reading his own scrawls, it clicked in his brain. Your eyes met and shared the same thought before you both hurried out of the house.

Arriving at the Dover’s, Loki wasted no time. He parked his car in the middle of the road and you both jogged the distance round the back of the house. He jumped the fence first then offered his arm as support for you to do the same. You landed uneasily in your slightly-heeled boots but wasted no time, rushing to the small muddy bush patch directly underneath the window. Loki pulled a pen from his pocket, raising the item that you pointed at deep in the mud now.

The pink bunny sock.

When you got the call that Joy had been found and was safely in the hospital you swore you were dreaming. You could barely get the words out to tell Loki and once you did it was a blur. You arrived at the hospital, the nurses had warned you that Joy wouldn’t be in a good state to question for a while and you caught a glimpse of the girl you had only seen photos of as you passed by her room. And now you and Loki sat in the only deserted corner of this hospital floor with cheap and admittedly really gross cups of coffee in hand. You were snuggled up in one seat, your legs up on the chair, knees pressed to your chest and your back resting on the wall as exhaustion began to set through. Loki who was sitting next to you, arms resting on his legs as he was leant forward, texting someone, didn’t look half as tired.

“Who you texting?” you mumble, nudging his side with one of your knees, desperately trying to start a conversation.

“No one,” he replied, shutting off his phone and shoving it into his coat pocket. You furrowed your brows. Why wouldn’t he tell you who he was texting if it was work related? Unless it wasn’t work related. If it wasn’t work related then who could it possibly be? Loki didn’t have family, you weren’t so sure about friends so who the hell could he be texting? The panic set through your body. Oh my gosh, he must have a girlfriend, you thought, or maybe a wife, what if he has a wife?

As if Loki could hear your catastrophising in your head, he leant back in his chair, turning his head slightly to meet you at eye level. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t it be? When are things not okay? I mean that’s a stupid question because we’re detectives who deal with crime but like-” “Woah, okay, easy. Maybe that's enough of this for today,” he reached his hand out to grasp your coffee cup, setting it down on the floor with a soft smirk which you returned. “Clearly everything is not okay.”

The smile dropped from your face in an instant. Loki seemed to be able to sense where you were going with this as his body tensed in response. He quickly diverted his eyes from you, looking ahead to the peeling hospital wall that was littered with posters for various health checks and medical products. He didn’t think he’d ever focused so hard on these posters until now.

“What are we?” His eyes pressed shut, almost scared of the question and certainly trying to avoid it. In his silence you turned to him, making clear you expected an answer.

“I wish I could tell you.”

You didn’t have much to say to that. You were glad that you were being validated here. Loki too acknowledged that you were not simply partners, there was something else here. “In the changing room-”

“Yeah, that was stupid. I wasn’t thinking straight, I’m sorry, I just...” he trails off, not realising the impact of his words though you certainly feel them. So he didn’t actually want to kiss you then? You swallow hard.

“Yeah, right, this is nothing,” you speak sharply. In so sharp a tone that Loki redirects his attention to you. You stand, unable to sit near him for much longer. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.”

“Did you- do you think differently?”

“Well of course not.”

“(Y/N)-”

You feel as though the world is trying to make up for this devastation when you hear commotion from the other end of the corridor making Loki shoot up out of his chair and both of you immediately head in the direction of the sound. You of course feel significantly less lucky when you see Keller walking rapidly through the hospital headed for the exit.

“I said nobody’s allowed in that room but her family. Hey! Where are you going? Hey! Where’s he going? Hey! Call downstairs. Don’t let him go,” Loki calls out to the front desk.

“Hey, where’s he going?” you question Mrs Dover as you pass by her and she mumbles a faint ‘I don’t know’ with a shrug, making you turn to Loki with wide eyes and before you know it Loki is following him, hot on his trail.

“Wait here!” he shouts after you and so you halt in your stops watching as you see the man you like hurry out of your view, your heart pounding out of your chest knowing he’s potentially running directly into danger. Shit, you think, I really like him.

tags: @mother-dearest-loves-me @mariamermaid@vigilanteavengerqueen @superheroforrent @peterbxrnes @igotanaddixon @blablasomethingblabla @cafeaufeels @montypythonsholysnail @carolines24 @chimera4plums @emma-frxst @oswald-1998 @iv-nyc @twowaymirrorx @skarlettmikaelson @deviantly-gayy

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal x you #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal one shot #jake gyllenhaal fanfiction #detective loki #detective loki x reader #detective loki fic #david loki #david loki x reader #david loki fic

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in-tua-deep · 5 years ago

Note

How do you think things would have changed if Five has come back even younger than in canon? Like if he came back as 7 or 8 or even younger? Also, I love your writing. You’re an amazing writer and I love reading your stuff.

first of all that would be hilarious because as much as media has tricked you into thinking older child actors (who are easier to work with) are younger (I mean case in point, Five is supposed to be thirteen but the actor is fifteen and those two years can make a big difference at that age) or animated movies can’t decide on a size for their character, but for real seven-year-olds in real life are BABIES

that’s like. the equivalent of a second grader?? I think i was about to go into year three living in the netherlands. I thought the year six kids were ancient. I didn’t care about bodily harm and would just hurl myself into cartwheels and handstands (nowadays not so much)

That was about the age I was losing teeth for the Very First Time and also the age I almost gave myself a concussion playing on the playground equipment (I blacked out and woke up in the nurses office lmao) and I thought the singing talents of Sandy from Hamtaro were the greatest in the world (the twirling ribbon song was formative for me)

seven was also the age for me that i realized that romance was The Worst because my best friend george decided that the pulling pigtails version of bugging me was a sure fire way to get my attention or something like that. but like,, george and me had chicken pox together. we pretended we were cheetahs in our treetop bunkbed nest together (we had a very loose grasp of the difference between cheetahs and jaguars and other big cats, admittedly). He was my best friend he didn’t need to pull my hair or anything rip

like can you even IMAGINE if five came back as a second grader?? yeah like maybe someone would serve thirteen-year-old Five black coffee but no one is going to just hand this baby child anything with caffeine are you kidding me

his feet wouldn’t even be able to reach the peDALS OF THE CAR

wow this would inconvenience him so much

i can’t even find a picture of my brother that young smh but here’s him and me when he was? probably about nine or ten and I was actually probably about six and smiling with a closed mouth to hide the fact that i was missing teeth or something smh

that is TWO WHOLE BABIES right there i’m just genuinely dying at the thought of Five popping out and he’s just. a gradeschooler. that suit would have been swimming on him and he’s got little chubby cheeks built to absorb shock and whatever atrocious child haircut he had at that age

(i have posted before about my genuine shock that five was ten in the comics. ten!! that’s a whole baby! a child! W H A T)

but?? does he pop up from jumping through his portal and look in the mirror and find that he’s missing some teeth? Can he whistle air through the gaps? i’m just picturing seven-year-old five getting socked in the face and losing some teeth or something and diego is right there to patronizingly tell him that it’s okay they’re probably just baby teeth and five is about to punch diego’s teeth out in a second if he keeps that up by jove

imagine five jumping and standing on the counter and he still can’t reach the marshmallows because they’re on the top shelf of the cupboard do you know how angry that would make him?? he would have about 60% less time for his siblings bullshit than normal because his small stature can only hold so much emotion at any one time and he has decided to go with seething rage for the foreseeable future

can you imagine how difficult that would be for Allison though?? Five at thirteen was bad but Five-at-around-Claire’s-age??? a billion times worse and she’s probably going to either be super avoidant because it’s painful or full on protective mama bear

it would definitely change a lot of plot stuff because i mean. no one’s going to let this tiny child drive. he can’t reach the pedals, duh. however, he might persuade one of the siblings (diego and klaus, probably) to drive him to griddy’s instead? Because with the options being “so help me i will walk there myself. alone. at night. as a small and innocent looking child” and driving him and keeping him company i think the latter wins out

(i’d nix griddy’s altogether but i’m way too invested in hazel and agnes getting together tbh)

hey wait does being that young mean that five doesn’t have his umbrella tattoo?? huh. well regardless if diego and klaus accompany him then the plot point of agnes telling the assassin squad about the tattoo can still happen so i guess it’s a moot point

but honestly the drama of having this tiny child just. completely annihilate the hit squad is hilarious to me, and it would also hit home the fact that hey! five might be telling the truth about everything and isn’t messed up by time travel! i mean whomst the fuck else would walk into a room and zero in on the seven-year-old no one else knows exists or is assumed dead by literally the whole ass world (and even if they didn’t he’s supposed to be 29) and demand he come with them and shit like man

Klaus: hey five what do you have

Five, stabbing his own arm to take the tracking device out: a knife

Diego: NO

other fun points include: the siblings bodily picking five up and five behaving like a very aggressive small breed of dog while simultaneously being super touch-starved and secretly appreciating being carried but would never admit it (whilst sober that is)

either they kept the old uniforms and five wears that or they have to scrounge up whatever they can find which means that five is dressed in some of claire’s clothes allison found stuffed in the bottom of her suitcase until they can go shopping and i’m not sure which is better tbh

hazel and cha-cha assuming that five is actually either diego or klaus bc those were the two adults in the coffee shop with the umbrella tattoo and eventually being confronted with the fact that their legendary adversary is a gradeschooler

five just being. so tired. all the time. my bedtime at seven years old was probably like. 8:30PM. kids need a lot of sleep!! so just five trying to keep himself awake because he has important stuff to do!! but doing the nod and bob because he can’t keep his eyes open

the trying-to-be-helpful but mildly-condescending strangers who stop five or talk down to him increase by tenfold. Teenagers out an about on the street along? eh. a seven-year-old? five is going to get so many concerns “where are your parents, sweetheart?” that he IS going to snap and kill a well meaning middle aged woman in the middle of the street

in a similar note the number of people who assume that he is the child of whatever sibling he happens to be in proximity to also increases tenfold and five does Not Appreciate This (and neither do half the siblings tbh bc now they have to pretend that they are responsible for this tiny feral child)

“FUCK” five says, loudly, prompting gasps from the delicate natured passerbys.

“you can’t fucking say that, dude, you’re like. a baby.” klaus says, equally loudly and making everyone in earshot 70% more scandalized

“I am not associated with them” diego informs the masses with an edge of desperation

luther is just. so massive next to this tiny version of five. he could hold him in like, one hand. and maybe luther at one point was really good with kids but with his new body he’s awkward and it’s very sad

no one bats an eye at child Five toting an Entire Half of a Mannequin that is probably as big as he is around. Billy’s kid is currently emotionally attached to a brick he found in the alley behind his school. Gertie’s granddaughter refuses to leave the house without an old sock filled with pebbles tucked under her arm. Gary’s stepkid found a piece of driftwood on the beach and now it’s in their bed every night. Kids are weird and at least Five’s has a face for him to talk to i guess??

instead of luther threatening dolores he just looks at five with this gun that is way too big for him to have a hold of really and just. reaches out and scoops five up under his armpits and he’s just furiously wiggling and growling and luther is like “nope not putting you down until we agree that murder is not a solution”

every interaction with the handler is probably about 112% more creepy honestly but also what about the job?? either five a) gets an appropriately child sized desk like the ones you find in an actual gradeschool or b) he gets some kind of boosterseat for his chair and just has to sit at this desk that is comically oversized for him

the squad go to a restaurant and the server brings over the menus and hands five a children’s menu. without a word klaus just plucks it from five’s hands and substitutes it for his own because they have been kicked out of six whole restaurants and he is willing to eat the children’s chicken nugget meal if he had to god damn it

the apocalypse doesn’t happen because vanya is literally incapable of hurting a grade schooler right in front of her regardless of how pissed off at her family in general she is. that is a whole child. vanya works with children for her job. she can’t hurt an entire child in front of her?? like she can destroy the world and all the abstract children but this one child right in front of her? who is also her long lost brother and former sole confidant as children who wasn’t there for any of the general bullshit she just went through?? not so much

but like. even after the stop the apocalypse there’s still the issue of what to do with this entire child. like at least as a teenager five would be able to be somewhat independent but seven-year-old five can’t reach the sink to wash his hands without a step stool

just the squad coming together to look after five without quite letting five know that’s what they’re doing because they don’t want to wake up to a knife in their chest or anything smh

five and claire meet and become an unstoppable duo of terror. patrick is an actually competent parent who is so exhausted 24/7 from raising his daughter that he just accepts five immediately because?? his brother-in-law being a time travelling 58-year-old in the body of a grade schooler who is partially feral from over forty years alone and probably has untreated ptsd? okay might as well happen

patrick “i didn’t trust allison with a child and yet i still trust her way more than the rest of you so i’m going to schedule five a doctor’s appointment or something because god knows he’s probably not up to date on his vaccinations and he’s hanging around claire and i doubt any of y’all even thought about that” hargreeves

the hargreeves all go to an amusement park as a family bonding activity. the mistake becomes clear when it’s revealed that five is too short to go on half the rides. the resulting meltdown gets them all kicked out and Diego just has five tossed over his shoulder still hurling insults at the ride attendant as they hoof it out of there

the family has to figure out everywhere they can go within walking distance because there’s still a cold war going on between allison and five over whether he has to be in a booster seat for any car rides or not

it’s basically just shenanigans with the family and five trying to figure out how to coexist and compromise and also look after one another when it’s been every man for themself pretty much all their lives

#this post is a mess tbh #far tua long #tua #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #number five #i think seven might have been the age i learned to ride a bike without training wheels #but i also had one of those little seats on my mum's bike for when we actually had to go somewhere at some speed #to be fair i lived in the netherlands which is like the bike capital of the world or something #i rambled so much but like #seven is a CHILD #i feel like movies and tv shows and animated stuff messed up our perceptions on how child a child is but here we go

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midas-or-khaos · 5 years ago

Text

Spirit, Chapter 3

“...Say what?” She must be joking, Bill was not becoming some glorified pet, no matter how nice Buttercup was. Ekashi’s parents looked to be on the same wavelength, the tattooed shape around his mother’s mouth that resembled a permeant smile managing to match her disappointment. The kids with sour pouts just looked like they ‘wanted one’. Fucking great. Catch 22. Upset the whole family, what a surprise. At least Grandma intervened.

“Daughter, don’t worry yourself, your son will be fine. All of you carry on, enjoy your food, relax, we will deal with this. Aiya, stop pouting, a spirit is not a dog, you can’t ‘have him’.”

Bill appreciated the lack of focus on himself as all went back to what they were doing, if slightly slowly. The gaze of the eager teens still weighing in every now and then, Aiya especially.

“Ekashiba, take a look at the back of your hands. You should have the symbol of the earth.”

Taking a look at the hand holding him, more black strips peaking out from the curved round the blind spot he hadn’t noticed in his observations when looking up. This pensioner wasn’t lying huh? How’d she know all this?

Looking up, poor ol Butters was on the same wavelength as him. Lost.

“Grandma, how do you know all this? I mean, I know you were a priestess in the past at that huge shrine in the mainland, but last I heard, that was when you still practiced shamanism.”

“I know all this because it’s happened to me before when I was young. It’s a rare occurance, but sometimes the Kamuy see the plights of humanity and decides to intervene themselves. It’s why I converted in the first place.”

Non of that made any real sense.New religion, new name, nothing he knew anything about. All except the word Kamuy.

“Oi, wait a minute, what are you talking about? Are we in Japan?”

Both adults looked down.

“What’s kyapan?”

How could they not know the country they lived in? Were names not translating over properly, like when Ekashi couldn’t say buttercup? Or were these some extremely isolated people like the Mormons or something? But even the Mormons knew about modern technology, these people knew nothing. They weren’t a tribe in the middle of Amazon, they were in JAPAN! The most technologically advanced countries in the world!

The patronising slowness couldn’t quite keep out, “Japan as in, the country we’re in, y’now? Tokyo, Nara, Hiroshima? Any of this sound familiar?”

A lacking level of understanding was shared between the equally furrowed brows. Grandma wasn’t impressed though, giving a supreme side eye that could best his own mum’s, that spoke ‘more shit is coming out your mouth than your arse and that isn’t a good thing’. To top it off, she also spoke with the same hint of sass. Oops.

“Is that what you call this land? Then no, we aren’t in ‘Kyapan’, as you say. We’re in Shikotsu.”

Shikotsu? Where the hell was that?! That didn’t sound like any country he knew, was he even on earth!

Grandma was paused for thought, spite trailing out and softening the creases of her wrinkles in favour of curiosity. At the very least he didn’t have to worry about her holding grudges, a small blessing,

“I’m curious. If you don’t speak our language, where are you from?”

“England, Manchester. I just moved down south to learn how to illustrate books.”

Another pause.

“Child, where do you think Shikotsu is?”

She couldn’t possibly be hinting at... could she be right?

“On the continent of Asia? Maybe North America at a real stretch” Ekashi let loose a small gasp. No way.

“Spirit, this is... I think you may have come from another world.”

Breath stopping coming in, the bitterness of carbon dioxide building in his lungs and biting at his throat couldn’t bring his mind to focus. It all felt so clear now, the veil lifted. Somewhere in this haze of madness, his mind had unwittingly tricked him into believing all this was a fever dream he could escape from. That there was an exit. The signs were right there all along but he’d refused to understand. This wasn’t as simple as being in a foreign country. This was another world.

Why... no-

What is this absolute Bullshit?

“ROOSTER!”

“CHRIST!” He couldn't hear.

“Breath, Rooster.”

Rumbled Ekashiba, calloused, warm thumbs rubbed at shaking shoulders. Breathe. He could breathe. All this anxiety was getting on his nerves, he was never like this before, and being needy was the bane of his life.

“I’m sorry, I overreacted. All I seem to be is a panicky, freezing deadweight.” Both hands came round in a living blanket, leathery skin sinking to fit his form in this odd ‘hug’. It should’ve been repulsive, physical touch often being the biggest cause of overstimulation for himself when so riled up, and yet he couldn’t help but relax again like before. This must’ve been a ‘spirit’ thing. It was so wrong, but so right, a nasty juxtaposition messing with his head.

Thankfully Grandma spoke up, “It is to be expected, you have gone beyond what you ever knew possible.”

Plucked up, Bill found himself flopped down on familiarly patterned wool. The hands retreated, and came back with a ladle of some kind of stew. The scent of unfamiliar ingredients sent his mind buzzing with a hunger he’d all but forgotten, helping to sweep aside all negativity. Too much adrenaline in such a short space of time, along with sickness and sleep left the boy all too busy to think of food.

“We can talk later, child. For now, you must eat.”

That was all she had to say.

Eating was a mostly silent affair on his end, with recognisable comments passing over rarely as the family talked about whatever. It was nice to at last be out of sight and able to just be himself In his mind alone. All that staring had been down right creepy and near predatory from some of the youngest. Ekashi wasn’t letting him go just yet, placing the worn out youth in his lap as he too ate and talked overhead. It was like eating on a parachute sized hammock, and honestly the whole fiasco of it was an Olympic sport. So it was no wonder as he finished the last piece of whatever root vegetable that was, that he just collapsed on the stretched fabric and drifted along consciousness.

A prod at his side. Ughhhhhhhh.

“No no, it’s too early to sleep. You slept till noon when you were ill and now you’re better. You must stay awake until the sun comes down or you will not sleep tonight.”

Buttercup, why must you do this? The boy was sure this giant was nice a moment ago.

“Hurry up, sun.” Came the belligerent reply.

A chuckle for his troubles.

“The sun will set when it’s ready. Till then there is more to do. Firstly, getting you some proper clothing while I go tend to the dogs.”

That was about as much fun as doing a french speaking exam with an actual french person. Buttercup’s mum had reluctantly taken to measuring the child, whilst his dad acted as a helping hand, sourcing fabrics from around their expansive fire pit (must've been a general utility room then). Admittedly it started out awkward, but the whole encounter wasn’t wasted being silent, oh no. Grandma and Akiko(who’s name he kept forgetting ) took It upon themselves to take this chance to start teaching some basic words, clothing items finally getting names. Turns out he knew jack shit about textiles (though from his D grade in year 7, it was hardly surprising). The Attush, which was the main robe everyone wore, wasn’t made of wool. It was made of nettles, and lined with deer or bear fur for warmth. Then the sleeveless jacket was called a Jin...baooooriii? Sounded right. Anyway, that was made of cotton. That piece of clothing, and the jewellery wasn’t worn often. Turned out as Bill was told to T-pose and be a mannequin, The story of his discovery from their perspective came up Akiko was happy to tell the story to help get her mind off the fact that she was dealing with him (or that’s what it certainly felt like, though it wasn’t a lie that he wasn’t enjoying being touched by unfamiliar tree trunk fingers, so fairs fair) and let Grandma translate. Turned out that they’d just come back from a festival for the god mentioned earlier when they heard him shouting.

After all this, the least he could do was try and make a good impression to the mum so she’d lessen her upturned lips and the two could finally be manageable around each other.

“Is there anything I can do to help? I feel kind of useless here while everyone is helping out-”

A waving, bony hand silenced him.

“You will help in time, don’t worry. But for this there’s no tools your size, so we will do it. Just carry on learning our language for a start.”

Damn it, there had to be something he could do other than stand there like some wallflower. Couldn’t help, couldn’t sleep, and damn it he hated languages with a fierce passion. It’s hard enough remembering English words half the time, let alone getting them muddled up with something new. Plus it never made sense, any of it. The rules to language are constantly broken, and then the need for female and male pronouns on furniture and other inmate objects? He was a fish and language was a bird flying right the fuck over his head... he never was one for good metaphors.

“Alright, I’ll give it a go.”

“Perfect.”

It was 3 more hours before anything could be put away, and if boy didn’t have arms like Beyonce then this was all for nothing, ‘cause the fatigued ache had made it that he couldn’t even raise a hand. On a brighter note, a small understanding on pronouns was squeezed out.

“Alright, we’re done. Go take your clothes and find Ekashiba.”

“Why am I gonna find Ekashiba?”

“To help show you how to put all of clothes on.”

Oh come on, he’s 19, he knows how to get dressed! It’s a robe, not Fort Knox. Fuck sake.

“...where is he?”

“Just through that passage on your right. Try and stay by the walls, less chance of getting stood on.”

“See you soon.”

Following the walls was nothing new. Any time spent in middle school with 12 year olds who had a cross between Sisyphus’ boulder and a boxer’s right hook for a backpack would teach you how to stick close to solid safety. Bill had spent 5 years in that shithole. Took awhile, wasn’t any need to rush, just follow the sound of dog chuffs and wagging tails thumping the floor. Maybe he could find a nook to get changed in?

A familiar droopy firebrick-red face popped his face round the corner of the wide corridor. Doge was back! Yeah, maybe he could get the dog to hide him.

“Hey boy, come heeeeerrrrreeeeee.”

Trotting over, the lion maned good boy bent down and licked happily at the familiar sight of Bill, and all that licking, whilst gross, was ticklish and friendly.

“Geh! Sssstttooooppppppp ehehehhehe. You’re too much!”

“Well, looks like Poro has taken a liking to you. She must see you as one of her pups.” Buttercup stood at the exit, looking down and smirking impishly while letting Bill get loved on, making no move to stop it.

Doge was a she. Of course he got that wrong; hard to tell who’s what when their body has enough hair to make a rug.

“Oh. well, all the same stop Girl.”

“Poro, come here.”

At last, sweet freedom! Sweet, messy freedom

“Thanks for the impromptu bath Poro.”

Gruff

“I’ll give you a bowl of water to wash.” Ha! Sympathy is a bitch.

Despite the cheekiness, Ekashi seems to mean well. He realises more than the others that Bill is more an adult than the family give credit for and leaves the boy to do as he wishes while he grooms the dogs. Given the opportunity, the lukewarm bath sesh dragged out, head resting on the rim of the bowl and a review of the day reeling behind the doors to his mind. He’s tiny, check, he’s never gonna be Bear Grills, check and he’s now in one way or another attached to a giant from another world. Check...shit. Obviously it must’ve been the gods if grandma had seen all this before. Why though? What did a uni student from Manchester have in terms of use? He was tiny, had no skills for survival, fighting or cooking, he didn’t know anything about this world; what use was a painting degree and two A levels in mythology and acting?

It’s an hour later of mulling that the boy actually brings it up.

“Ekashi, what is the festival you went to about?”

The man paused in his workings, but didn’t turn round.

“The festival is meant to celebrate the beginning of the world. When from chaos, the elements of the world came about: earth, water, fire and air. Together they came, and the world was born from their clashing and fighting, which broke them apart into infinite pieces, which became the all that exists in the world. The rivers, the grass, all of it.”

“Your Grandma mentioned the Kamuy sent me.”

Ekashi froze, back tensed. Bill fell silent, feeling he’d hit something he shouldn’t.

“...During the festival, there is a chance for prayer. We give offerings and can ask for assistance of give thanks.”

This was beginning to feel a lot like not his business.

“...what did you ask.”

“I asked for guidance.”

He was dodging the answer. Bill was always so bad at reading people, but this didn’t need facial expressions or tones of voice. This felt... apart of him.

“...And?”

“...And a chance for something new.”

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