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lunamugetsu · 3 months

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Danny is a house husband.

That's it, that's all it is.

As the years went on. Danny retired from being a superhero. There was no need for Phantom when the GIW were dealt with and all the ghosts were under control.

Now what's left for him to do but to just sit back, relax, and finally be able to live his life.

Sam and Tucker on the other hand....

Well, they had plenty of pent up rage, wits, and chaos inside their mind to become villains.

But they had one rule.

Never bring work home and to never involve Danny in any of their supervillain business.

Okay that's technically two rules, but they're kind of synonymous especially since Danny has been taking care of their house while also entertaining himself with trying new hobbies.

Tucker and Sam both make sure that they never bring any of their villainy home to Danny, because all they want is for Danny to enjoy his happy hero retirement.

And Danny in turn, doesn't bat an eye when watching the news and seeing that there were magical plants that were attacking sites that oil companies were digging or that somehow Lex Luthor had lost five hundred million dollars and had somehow leaked records showing he was building weapons of mass destruction.

He also doesn't bat an eye when he sees that Tucker had brought home a telescope that definitely looks like it came from some fancy lab because hey, Tucker was making him an observatory so he can look at the stars and planets. While also how they were able to make a great gaming pc with computer parts that are definitely not sold in stores, because hey at least the newest update of Doomed wasn't lagging.

Or that Sam comes home with various plants and animals that are definitely not from planet earth, but hey the three headed wolf-lizard-eagle- hybrid thing (that Danny has affectionately named Fluffy) is pretty great at keeping the pests away from his vegetable garden and likes to eat any of Danny's new food creations and is a great playmate for Cujo.

So you can imagine how the Justice League thinks when dealing with the pair of new villains: Upload (Tucker) and Sam (I could not think of a villain name that would suit her, so it's up to you what you think her villain name would be)

And how they were currently wreaking havoc in the city either by cyber warfare with robots or by magic plant monster or a Frankenstein of both approaches. The heroes had all evacuated the civilians from the battle zone and are currently fighting a losing battle. When they've been effectively captured and restrained by the two. Right before the villains could go into a monologue, they hear a person clearing their throat.

Everybody looks to see a 25 year old man wearing a sweater vest (he made it himself, thank you very much) currently holding onto the leash of a giant glowing green dog and some kind of giant animal hybrid. The man's arms were crossed and was currently not sporting a very happy look on his face.

Tucker and Sam (looking at Danny with hesitant smiles): Hi honey.

Danny (frowning): you missed our anniversary dinner.

Tucker and Sam both pale as they quickly realized what the date and time was.

The league all watch as Sam and Tucker immediately start apologizing to the man that just walked into a battle zone.

Danny (still frowning): Hmph! I guess since you two didn't want dinner you can go back to your little fight. Don't expect me to make you any lunches for the next month, and since you two are having so much fun here, you'll be sleeping by yourselves for the next couple weeks.

The league all watch as they were let go as Sam and Tucker yell as they run after Danny yelling apologies as he was walking away from them.

This is not the last they see of Danny.

When Danny is displeased with either of his partners, he'll invite a hero over to have lunch of afternoon tea.

#dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom x dc #dpxdc #I'd think that Flash would be the one that Danny has tea/lunch with the most because that guy wouldn't turn down good food #And Danny is a really good cook #especially since the food doesn't come to life and try to stab him #Sam and Tucker be entering their home and then they see Captain Marvel there eating cookies because Danny offered them to him #dpxjustice league #dp x justice league #dp x dc prompt

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captain-mj · 6 months

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You know what we discussed about vampire Ghost

I love you so much yeah I know exactly what we discussed

Soap continued to stare at Gaz. “You’re joking. This is a joke.”

Gaz nodded. "Look, I know how it sounds."

"'Do you? Are you sure?”

Gaz moved his shirt to expose his throat and soap could see the dozens of bites.

'Look, I shouldn’t be telling you. Its on a need to know basis, but if you’re going to pursue Ghost, I wanted you to know. Ever notice that he and Alex refuse to go into the sun with their skin showing?” Soap decided not to mention that he had already caught Ghost and had the bruises on his hips to prove it.

Instead, he turned to Alex. “This is insane. Tell him you’re not a vampire."

Alex stared at him

“Haud your wheesht!"

A moment of silence.

'’Keller, you can't be serious."

Alex and Gaz just stared.

Sorp tried to laugh it off as a joke until Alex took his thumb and exposed his fangs. Long, wicked and sharp. Perfectly concealed until Alex pressed the right spot in his gums. The skin of his mouth, specifically around his teeth and gums, had dark coloring like a corpse.

Alex made sure Soap got a good look at them, even releasing and pushing them back a few times, before letting go. “Ghost likes you. If you know, it makes things a lot easier. He can’t be all angsty about it.”

Soap continued to stare way after he pulled his hand away from his mouth. “Who else knows?”

Alex hummed. “I think you’re the last in the 141 to know. Several SpecGru members don’t know.”

Gaz quickly chipped in. “And we were eventually going to tell you when Ghost and Alex felt comfortable. I was told a little early because Alex and I started dating, but the original plan was after a few months for both of us. No one was going to keep it from you forever.”

Alex made a face that implied he could’ve dealt with Soap never knowing, but he seemed uncomfortable with the conversation in general. Soap doubted this was the easiest conversation to have.

“Ghost is… a vampire.”

“Yes.”

Soap thought about some of his Lieutenant’s habits. “Oh dear god.”

“Yeah, it’s a lot. If you need to sit down and talk, I can answer some questions.” Gaz offered. “Nothing too personal obviously, but some.”

Alex looked at Gaz with a distinct look of relief before quickly leaving the room. His hand lingered on Gaz and Soap told himself firmly that he imagined the claws there.

Soap took a deep breath. “They need to… from humans?”

“Yeah. Animal blood doesn’t actually work. The bagged stuff can get them by but it’s not ideal. It's why I let Alex eat off me."

Soap nodded. "Does it hurt?"

"A little. There's some kind of... I don't know. Toxin? Laswell said it's on the same level as codeine. Takes the pain away. Also a small bit of Draculin."

Soap laughed. "That's a little on the nose, don't you think?"

Gaz laughed as well. "Dude, that's the same thing in vampire bat spit. I didn't make up the fucking term."

Soap shook his head. "I'm gonna... lay down for a bit."

"Yeah, take your time, man." Gaz hit his shoulder and went in the same direction that Alex went in.

Soap finally let himself freak out a bit. His entire world just got turned upside down.

Vampires fucking exist.

And Simon was one.

Potentially.

The idea of Simon with his face covered in someone's blood, teeth on display, disturbed him quite a bit more than he was expecting.

Soap had no evidence that Ghost was... whatever Alex was. And maybe this was still some weird trick. It seemed really far, especially for Gaz, but still.

What better way to find out the truth than to ask the man himself? Maybe, once this stupid little event was over and Soap was reassured that Ghost was perfectly human, he could go back to normal. Maybe he'd convince Ghost to finally lift the mask up enough for them to have a proper kiss.

Soap "stalked" Ghost around base. The man knew he was there and seemed to be purposefully keeping busy around people. He would occasionally glance at him and bat his eyelashes, almost like he was teasing him.

Soap started to go through every single time he and Ghost had been outside together. He had to have been uncovered at some point. Once he had went through every memory, he realized that wasn't fair. Ghost stayed covered up. So he started thinking about Alex.

Yeah, he wore a lot of ghillie suits with masks, but clearly at some point... He worked in the middle east with Farah the majority of the time. There had to be something, come on.

Once. Alex had disappeared for a few hours after that and he had weird burns That he said were caused by the explosion. Yeah, he'd seen his face plenty and interacted with him plenty. Usually, In buildings. At night. When he was covered head to toe.

Soap's breathing started to come quicker but he was determined to keep his cool. Again, this was crazy.

Ghost finally went to his room and left it open for Soap to follow him. He turned around and sat on his bed. "Johnny. Need something?"

"Can I see your mouth?"

Ghost blinked at him. "Is that a new way to ask for a blowjob?"

"No. Like... your teeth."

Ghost stared before sitting up. "Price told you, didn't he? I told him I wanted to wait. Look I planned to tell you before we got closer. Ju-"

"We slept together."

Ghost looked at him with the giant brown eyes. "Trust me, you were never at risk of anything."

Soap frowned. "You're actually a vampire. This is insane."

Ghost stared at him. "Like I said. I'd never risk you. It's why I kept the mask on. I just... How do you tell someone that?"

"Sometime between fucking me and us flirting would've been nice." Soap said, backing up a little. Yes, rationally he knew Ghost wouldn't attack him. It wouldn't make sense for him and if Ghost really wanted to, he wouldn't do it now.

"Are you going to tell anyone?"

Soap paced around. "No. Of course not. Also, Price didn't tell me."

"Fucking Kyle."

Soap kept walking around the room, thinking to himself. "Give me proof."

Ghost's grip on the blanket got tighter. "What?"

"Proof. Show me."

Now it was Ghost's turn to think for a moment. "Alright." Slowly, he took off his mask.

Soap paused, staring. Unlike when he took his mask on in Los Almas, he had another mask underneath. It fit around his jaw and covered the bottom half of his face. It didn't hinder his movement at all, but it would keep him from biting (or kissing) freely.

“You’ll have to take it off of me if you want to see my fangs.”

Gently, he lifted his head to show the "lock". It was a simple one where you had to push a button and then twist it open. Ghost touched it and smoke came from his fingertips. Although it clearly hurt, Ghost held it for a second before pulling away. "Silver. Can't get through it. I usually have Price take it off of me when I'm eating. Or whoever I'm feeding from.”

Soap nodded. "You feed off people often?" He didn’t want to think about it. He especially did not walk to think of what it would feel like to unmask Ghost. It felt like too much. Too intimate but too sterile. It casted Ghost in a very animalistic light that Soap couldn’t wrap his brain around.

Ghost nodded. "Any time I can. Bagged stuff... is awful. I'd rather get another hook through my ribs then drink the stuff, but sometimes you have to do what you have to do. I keep the mask because I’m… newer. Still always at risk of going feral.” He looked at Soap. "I haven't lied to you about anything. Never liked lying."

Soap glared at him. "Not telling me something you'd know I want to know is lying by omission."

Ghost looked ashamed. "I'm sorry. I didn't plan on us going far until I told you just... things happened."

Soap felt a lot of feelings. On one hand, yeah. Ghost was secretive. This wasn't exactly unheard of for him. He'd hidden his face for weeks. Most people had known him for months or even years and not seen his face. Soap was definitely privileged in that aspect.

But... this was... well... A lot. Soap thought if he could hear Ghost's backstory full of betrayal and being buried alive, he could handle anything. This was just...

Too much.

The idea of Ghost sinking those fangs into someone wasn't something he liked thinking about. Or being feral. Animalistic and dangerous.

This did explain why Ghost was so cold.

"Johnny..." Ghost spoke up. "If you want to pretend this never happened, I'd understand. I'd never want to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm sorry. This is... It's just a lot."

Ghost nodded and he looked... so understanding. "like I said. I never want to make you uncomfortable. If you'd prefer we stick to a more professional relationship for a bit, I-"

"Yes. Professional. I think it's best our relationship stays that way." Soap watched it in real time. The initial moment of thinking there was more coming. Waiting for the "for now" that wasn't going to come. Simon's eyes were so sad. So convincing.

Then Ghost snapped into place. "Understood, sergeant. I think it's best you leave my room. I need to turn into a bat and hang from the ceiling." He laughed, brushing Soap off like it was nothing.

Soap hadn't expected begging or pleading for him to change his mind, but the cold acceptance that Ghost gave him hurt his chest. "Simon I'-"

"That's not how you talk to a superior officer." Ghost cut him off, staring down at him. He slid his tac gear off. "Now, like I said, leave my room."

Soap nodded, backing off. He went to his room and sketched until lights out.

In the morning, he studiously ignored that Ghost didn't text him Morning like he had for the past four months. There wasn't even a skull emoji to indicate that Ghost had slept bad and didn't want to leave bed.

He ate breakfast with Gaz and Price, staying quiet.

Price sipped his tea. "I see you're taking this better than Gaz did."

Gaz looked betrayed but that just made Price laugh. "Look, it was a crazy thing to find out okay??"

Soap hummed. "What did you do?"

"Lock myself in my room for a while. I was... I don't know. Paranoid I guess. I thought they'd eat me now that I knew or that I'd discover another one that wasn't part of my team I eventually got over it though. It eventually gets easier."

"Glad to hear that."

It didn't feel like it was getting better.

Every time Soap saw Ghost, he imagined him draining someone and he got sick. He found it hard to be on missions with him and it was obvious to everyone around them.

Gaz confronted him, looking spitting mad. "Are you serious? I told you because I... I thought you'd want to know. I did not want you to do this."

Soap sighed. "Look, I'm sorry it just... freaks me out okay?"

"You're not squeamish about anything."

"Eating someone alive is different than a dead body."

Gaz looked at him and shook his head. "Oh well. At least you found out before you and Ghost did anything."

"...So about that."

Gaz looked horrified. ''Soap..."

"Don't worry. We'll stick to being a one night stand and everything will be fine."

Gaz rubbed his face. He looked at him for a moment and then looked away. "Alright, Soap. If you think you got it handled, I'll believe. I just... I don't want anyone getting any feelings hurt."

"Don't worry. I doubt this is bothering Ghost very much."

Ghost was doing a great job of hiding everything from everyone.

Except Alex and Alejandro, who got to hear his stilted and barely audible explanation of what happened. It hurt. A lot. But it was fine. Perfectly fine.

Ghost tried not to look at Soap when he could help it. It hurt his chest.

Soap had agreed to go to Los Almas. They needed some assistance with the cartel now that Valeria had escaped. He jumped at the opportunity to get away and just… clear his thoughts.

Alejandro and Rodolfo were excited to see him. Soap felt nice, seeing both of them. It had just started to get dark but the last rays on sunshine didn’t seem to bother either of them.

He went with them, talking about what happened without giving away what he knew. Both of them kept glancing at them though, this knowing look in their eyes.

So much for clearing his head.

Rodolfo spoke up first. “We know about the vampires on your team. Price has To disclose them to people he’s working with.”

Alejandro nodded, tapping his fingers. “So if you want to talk about that.”

“I hate the idea of Ghost covered in someone’s blood. It’s…”

Revolting? Horrible? Weirdly erotic in a way that made Soap’s Catholic guilt rear it’s head?

“Unsettling.”

Alejandro nodded. “I see. I’m sure Ghost will be fine. He has a few centuries to forget you exist.” He smiled, like that was supposed to cheer Soap up. Instead, it sent such a sharp pain through Soap He almost doubled over.

Soap focused back on the mission at hand which was helping them clean out Cartel members.

One night, as he was coming back, he decided to stop by Rudy’s bedroom. It was right next to Alejandro’s quarters. He didn’t knock, just peaked in, that way if Rodolfo was asleep, he could just silently leave.

Rodolfo most certainly was not asleep. He was down to just his pants with his shoes and shirt neatly put away.

And Alejandro was there. Digging his fangs into him.

Soap froze and watched, something compelling him to.

Alejandro held Rudy with such a gentleness. Like he was a prized possession. He pulled his fangs out and Soap could see Rodolfo’s back arch when he did. Heard the tiny muffled gasp before Alejandro kissed him softly.

He spoke in Spanish, the only thing Soap understood was “my moon”. Alejandro dipped his head and started to drink. He didn’t make a sound. In his head, Soap had expected Moans or grunts, but like a proper predator, there was nothing but the sounds it drew out of Rodolfo.

Carefully, very gently, Alejandro’s hand slid down his back as he cupped it closer. He pulled away and put their foreheads together, a bead of blood running down. Rodolfo gathered it on his thumb and Alejandro ran his tongue over it.

“Need more?” Rodolfo asked in a soft voice and Soap was glad they were using words they taught him in Spanish so he could keep up.

Alejandro shook his head and held his hand against the wound. “No. Sorry I think I cut a little deep.”

“It’s okay. Not feeling dizzy.” Rodolfo reassured, cupping Alejandro’s face. They kissed again, so loving and intimate. Something there that Soap wasn’t getting.

He closed the door and just went back to his own room, not understanding why he was tearing up. Why his nose burned.

Soap reimagined the bloody scene of Ghost He had been imagining for weeks now. Instead, it was a bit more like what he just saw and he… felt he may have made a mistake.

Soap laid in bed, imagining Ghost cradling him, not some random person, the same way. Biting him carefully. Holding him together. It shook him, just how much he did want that. How much the idea excited him.

Taking into account time zones, he texted Ghost a good morning that was read and ignored. He started doing it consistently, trying to get Ghost’s attention. Ghost did send a message back. Just a simple skull emoji but it gave Soap so much relief to see.

The two continued to talk through the rest of Soap's stay in Los Almas and by the time he got the go ahead to go back to their normal base, he'd say they were on good speaking terms.

Soap felt all of the hair on his neck stand on end the moment Ghost's attention turned towards him for the first time in two weeks. He looked the exact same way he did when they first met. Not a single change.

Things melted away. Somehow, they ended up right where they were the day before Gaz told him all of this. His chest to the wall, Ghost feeling him up with his gloves.

"Simon." Soap said softly and Ghost stopped immediately, putting his forehead against Soap's shoulders.

"Johnny." He sounded like he was panting. "Should I stop?"

"I want you to bite me."

Ghost's fingers sank into the flesh of Soap's hips. "What?"

Soap scrambled to get his shirt off. "Bite me. Right here." He framed his throat.

Ghost paused, looking confused and Soap pushed his balaclava up. "I was thinking about it. You eating someone. I discredited you. I know you're not a monster, Lt. I'm sorry." He looked at the muzzle that kept him in place. It finally got through to Soap how little trust Ghost must have in himself to do this to himself willing. As well as how much trust he had to put in those around him to help him out of it. While Ghost could probably undo the lock himself, it clearly hurt even through gloves. Soap gently undid the little lock and then pulled it off of him, finally seeing Ghost's lips again. And the two fangs that decided they wanted to be seen as well where they almost pierced his bottom lip. "I was so upset at the idea of you biting someone else. That was my problem."

"You almost sound jealous."

Was that it? Definitely felt like part of it. Judging by the way Ghost was sniffing at his veins, Soap hoped imagined he hadn't fed off a person in a while. His tongue flicked out, nice and cold.

Ghost pulled his balaclava the rest of the way off and moved the muzzle to be around his throat instead. He kissed at the pulse point, pressing in tight. "Are you sure? You don't have to I promise" Despite his words, he was licking at the place he wanted to bite desperately as if to break the skin with just his tongue.

"Yes. Please. I-"

Gaz was full of shit.

It did hurt. The dull ache almost making Soap regret it.

Until Ghost wrapped his arms around him and picked him up. He didn't keep his teeth in long, quickly switching to sucking on the wound he made.

Soap buried his fingers in his hair and gasped softly, feeling pleasure spark through his veins. His legs were dangling so he moved to wrapping them around Ghost's waist. He felt Ghost's hard stomach against the bulge in his pants and nearly came like this.

The feeling of it all. It felt rapturous. So close to heaven. His stomach started to tense and his legs shake.

Ghost pulled away far too soon and Soap tugged him up for a quick kiss. It tasted a little too much of iron but the starry gaze he got from Ghost made it more than worth it. He gently pushed him back to his throat and Ghost happily continued to drink now that he had permission. His tongue lapped at the wound to keep the blood flowing.

He found himself liking this idea. That he was the one that Ghost ate from. Keeping him well fed.

The biting didn’t hurt as it went on. Instead it just felt good.

Ghost’s hand slid into Soap's pants before getting frustrated and simply tearing them to get what he wanted. He ran his hands up and down Soap's cock as he continued his meal.

Right as Soap started to feel dizzy, Ghost sped his hand up and he came so hard his vision turned dark. He whimpered and felt himself hit the bed, immediately finding himself missing Ghost’s hands holding him up. If he had the brain power to do so, he'd ask for Ghost to fuck him right then and there, but he couldn't formulate the words. Ghost bandaged and cleaned him before taking care of himself, which meant Soap was conscious enough to grab Ghost's belt loops and make him sit there for him to see instead of hiding in the bathroom.

Blood coated his mouth and down his chest, it seemed Ghost was a rather messy eater, but he was hot. So hot. He rutted into his blood soaked hand, chanting Soap's name over and over again. His face had more color in it than Soap had ever seen and it was downright gorgeous. Soap would let him drink from him again just to see that.

Ghost seemed to be having a bit of a problem, rutting faster and faster but getting no where. His frustration was leaking out and his eyes rolled back, body tensing but not letting him release. He let out a little growl of frustration that broke off into more of a whimper.

Soap squirmed over And, after wiping the blood off of his cock because he wasn’t prepared to go quite that far, sank down. He only managed to bob his head twice.

Ghost came with a harsh groan, head tilting slightly away.

"Happy now?"

"Aye."

"Fucking hell." Ghost grumbled at him before fixing his pants. He looked embarrassed.

"Simon."

"Johnny."

"Stay the night."

Ghost paused the looking for his mask. "You sure that's a good idea?"

"Aye."

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost #ghoap

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camels-pen · 2 years

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Hey, you guys know the headcanon that Jason still has an autopsy scar?

Consider a moment in a dp dc crossover where Danny was vivisected by someone and has his own Y scar and the batfam, or at least Jason, know at this point that he's a halfa.

Ignoring the angst part, I'd like to imagine Danny seeing Jason's scar for the first time and eventually working up the nerve to ask about it. Jason says it's not a pleasant reminder (that he's died before) and would rather not talk about it. This leads into Danny accidentally hinting at having the same scar on himself (from the vivisection) and Jason just tells him he doesn't need to explain, that Jason gets it and if Danny wants to talk about it/talk about the feelings regarding it, Jason will always lend an ear, no problem.

And Danny is overwhelmed because he never had anyone to talk about it with before; he didn't want to worry his friends/make them feel bad for taking so long to rescue him and Jason speaks bluntly like, all the time, so if he says he'll always lend an ear and it's no problem? Danny just straight up starts bawling.

So they have their little bonding moment and Danny promises to talk with Jason about it eventually. And he does! He absolutely does. There are vague phone calls and overall lots of talk about feelings in the moment. Jason doesn't entirely relate with Danny's feelings sometimes, but he chalks it up to them being different people, Danny being half-ghost, not actually knowing how Danny died, etc etc

(Other times Jason can relate far far too well. Sometimes he relates so much he has to ask Danny to give him time to prevent or manage a panic attack. Sometimes he has to ask for a topic change or to cut the call short, even on his best days. It's frustrating.)

One hot summer day, the batfam decide to have a pool day and they invite Danny to come hang out.

Danny shows up, realizes pool day means going to the pool in their backyard, and has a grand old time. None of the batfam mention his scar, assuming it's like Jason's, and he doesn't mention their scars either.

It's snack time, everybody's got watermelon slices curtosy of Alfred and Danny and Jason are lounging by the pool.

Everything's great.

Someone mentions how Danny is kinda like a mini-Jason because they're both slouched against their chairs and eating in massive bites and spitting their watermelon seeds into the fire pit nearby.

Jason flips them off and Danny says "thanks, it's the vivisection scar"

And everyone goes silent.

Then they're all yelling, "THE WHAT?!"

Cue the batfam realizing very quickly that despite being pretty good at communication sometimes, they definitely dropped the ball here.

"Kid- Danny." Jason lowered his tone, something a bit more similar to the voice he used for traumatized kids. "You were vivisected?"

Danny raised an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah. So were you." He jabbed a thumb towards Jason's chest. "That's how you got that scar."

"This is my autopsy scar."

Danny blinked. "Oh." He blinked again, harder this time. He took in a shaky breath. "So, all that stuff you said before was a lie?"

Jason baulked. "No! No, absolutely not. All of it was true, I just thought..."

"You thought it was about my death?"

Jason nodded. "Danny, if I knew, I would've told you exactly what this scar was from immediately. I promise this wasn't a bat thing."

Danny took several deep breaths. "Okay.... Okay."

And then uhhh, big talk with lots of feelings and Danny ends up being given a very nice hug from Jason and becomes trapped in his arms/lap for a while like a teddy bear.

As he's falling asleep, Danny mentions having gotten his scar almost six months ago and Jason goes a little feral because he knows that Danny's been dead for well over a year and goddamnit he thought the vivisection was what caused Danny to become a halfa. But now that all the emotions have been dealt with and Danny's nearly asleep, he's reminded of the person who gave Danny his scar rising to the top of his hit list. Or beat-within-an-inch-of-their-life list, if he has to play by bat rules.

When he side eyed Bruce and saw his thunderous gaze with a cracked glass of lemonade in his hand, however, Jason thought he might have more leeway than usual.

#DPxDC #dp dc crossover #danny fenton #jason todd #nemotime #this started out as an idea for a crackfic #with miscommunication and Danny scaring the batfam shitless about the vivisection thing #and now it is angst #watermelon inaccuracies #i dont know shit about watermelons or their seeds #idk if its safe to spit the seeds in a firepit so uhhh do your research kids #long post #i love how i started this post with 'ignoring the angst stuff...' *proceeds to write angst stuff*

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 2 years

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Au where someone uses necromancy to try and revive ALL of Damians dead clones to kill the batfam. The bats are all caught up in traps and are busy trying to escape as neon green light cuts through the dark.

A large fist, clearly not belonging to Damian bursts through the summoning circle as a Solomon Grundy-ish figure slowly emerged and towered over the summoner. More...entities...rose from the magic circle as the spell caster ordered the Grundy look alike to attack them. The last of the beings, a somewhat normal if glowing girl, slipped out of the circle and its light faded into nothing as she floated there confused.

Grundy Jr, as Nightwing decided to call him, stomped towards Batmans cage and knocked all the bars away with a single swipe of his arm before picking up the tied up batman and...hugging him?!

Dick no longer knew what to think as the giant of a man continued to hug Bruce and say a word over and over again that sounded suspiciously like "Daddy"

His attention was drawn to a small green light zipping over to the lock on his shackles and undoing it, freeing him. The little light then landed on the bars of his own cage and made them seemingly disappear. He walked though, baffled but unhindered and was curious that the bars reappeared after the entity stopped making physical contact with it. Said light then burrowed into his hair.

The girl and another entity in a classic bedsheets ghost outfit were doing the same for the others as batman and Grundy Jr fought the confused spellcaster.

After the battle was over the girl made a phone call to her "cousin" Phantom. Who was apparently Robins secret (un)dead twin he never told any of them about. The magic user was dealt with, but now they had the new problem of 3 clones following them around calling them father/brother/sister respectively and refusing to go back to the spirit world or whatever.

Jason made the mistake of lifting up the bedsheet see what was under there, stared for a hot minute and yanked it back down. He refused to tell anyone what he saw.

Alfred was a bit...put off by his new grandchildren, but he loved them all no matter what shape or form they come in. And when Phantom appeared and agreed to help any way he could he knew he would be part of the family too someday. Especially with how Damian was hovering over him like an overprotective helicopter parent.

He was not prepared for the "perfect" clone to appear behind him. Silent and confused with no memory to call his own.

Danyals comment, "Well, I guess we're triplets now" earned him a glare from his older brother.

#fanfiction prompts #prompts #dp x dc #danny fenton #danny phantom #clones #stablizing them would be fun #so much to play with here #damian refuses to lose his little brother a second time #bruce: a son? a very big son?#jason is freaking out #kon hears about this and is over to help his clone brethren regardless of what anyone else says

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komotionlessqueenmm · 1 year

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Imagine # 1,046

Gif NOT mine. (Found on Pinterest I think)

Year posted - 2023

⚠️Warning(s) - Pure smut... Possible murder. 🤔

📝 - Okay so we're going to pretend that when he binds his soul to you, you can see him without those goofy glasses, and we're going to pretend you can touch him as if he were still living. We're also going to pretend that me thirsting over a ghost, that's got half his head/body mutilated and burned isn't weird. Okay? Okay. 😰

Cyrus never really liked his goddaughter, (Y/n). He had nothing particularly against her per se, but she was never a valuable asset in his eyes. Even when she came to be in his care at the age of thirteen, her parents having died in a freak accident. She was always in the dark about his plans, but she knew of his growing collection of dangerous spirits. She had been present for the capture of all of them after all. What she didn't know was that those were all failed attempts of her "accidental" death. Cyrus had been counting on one of the spirits taking care of her, before he would set the final parts of his plan in motion. Eleven ghosts later, and (Y/n) was still alive and well. "This should take care of her." Cyrus mused to himself as he triggered one of the many mechanisms of his glass home. Several walls shifted creating a direct path from the main corridor of the basement, upstairs and straight to (Y/n)'s room. Simultaneously her bedroom door creaked open softly, while the glass door to the Torn Princes imprisonment slid open. Cyrus sat comfortably in his library, knowing it was only a matter of time before the Torn Prince had finally dealt with his "baggage".

The vengeful spirit stepped out of his glass enclosure, and followed the path provided. When he finally reached the end, he was careful in entering the bedroom. Observing the room absentmindedly, before his attention snapped to the bed, where a soft murmur of a woman's voice sounded. Once he stood beside the bed, he realized that the woman was the very same one that had been present for his capture, (Y/n). He remembered her name, and how sad her eyes had looked as she gazed at him in the cube. She was also one of the few that wasn't afraid of him. How her compassion stuck with him long after their encounter, and only growing with every encounter they had afterwards. He rarely saw her in the basement, but even when she did come down, she always seemed to look straight at him, even though she wasn't wearing the glasses that would allow her to actually see him again. He was enamored, hell he was smitten with her, and now here she was right within his reach. A smirk tugged at Royce's torn lips as an idea bloomed in his twisted mind. He'd sat his bat aside some time ago without even realizing it, and had now grabbed the edge of her blanket, swiftly throwing it away from her body.

A chuckle bubbled in his chest and wispped around the room like a gentle breeze. Here she lay, the woman of his undying lust, clad in a loose tank top and a pair of paper thin lace panties, as if she were expecting him. She murmured in her sleep again, but remained asleep, even as he began pulling her gently to the side of the bed. "What a dream you are doll." Royce mused as he draped her legs over the side of the bed, placing himself between her thighs and simply observing her peaceful face for a minute or so. Then that violent side of him bled through for a moment, making him rip her panties apart with little effort. He chuckled at the sight of her pussy, she was wet, practically dripping even. His cold fingers trailed from her knees up to her hips, his thumbs brushing under her shirt feeling her warm skin. While his left hand snaked further under her shirt, anchoring on the side of her ribcage just below her breast. His right hand drifted to her mound, his thumb dipping between her folds, and tracing her clit in slow delicate circles. (Y/n) sighed out a soft moan, but remained asleep.

"So good." He praised as he slipped his ring finger into her soaked heat, a delighted groan passing from his lips at the feeling of her enveloping the one digit. "So warm." Royce added another finger, an astonished chuckle escaping him as he spread her open to his greedy eyes. "And you're all mine baby." He mused as he began thrusting his fingers slowly into her tight hole. "All mine." His left hand suddenly slipped out from her shirt, and he worked quickly on his belt. "Mine." He growled darkly, having pulled his erect cock out. He pulled his fingers from her heat, smirking at the sad whine that bubbled in (Y/n)'s throat. Pressing the head of his cock against her hole, he whispered her name softly before pressing into her. She moaned in pleasure, her head tossing to the side as he continued to press further into her until he bottomed out. "Fuck." (Y/n) whined sleepily, her eyes slowly fluttering open as she was roused awake, by what she thought was a wet dream. That is until Royce pulled back and snapped his hips forward, the head of his cock kissing her cervix as he did so.

"O-oh fuck." She moaned when he did it, her eyes locked on where they were connected. The only problem was, without the glasses (Y/n) couldn't see Royce. So she stared in wonder at her pussy, which was clearly stretched out around something, or rather someone that was pounding into her mercilessly. A gasped moan got caught in her throat when he hit a particularly special spot within her heat. Her head lulling back as she relaxed and simply enjoyed the best fuck of her life. Her name slipped passed Royce's lips once more, the sound reaching her ears and making her shutter in delight. "Mine." Royce growled again, the sound making (Y/n) whine, and her pussy clench. His pace was unrelenting, fucking into her animalisticly, pushing her rapidly towards her blissful release. "P-please." She whined as her back arched, the angle allowing Royce to push even deeper. "Yes!" (Y/n) cried out at the sensation, trying desperately to keep the angle, but her back already ached. He noticed her falter and slipped his right hand around the small of her back, the feel of his cold skin against her burning skin pulled a small gasp from her throat.

His left hand drifted from her hip, and splayed across the top of her mound, his thumb finding perches atop her thrumming clit. "I-I'm I-" Her climax ripped through her as he swiped at her sensitive bud in rapid circles. Royce groaned at the feeling of her clenching around him, her pussy trying desperately to milk his cock for all he was worth. "All mine." He groaned as he came undone, his spirit binding with her body and soul, binding them as one. "Royce." (Y/n) whispered his name when she opened her eyes, to find the spirit that had been ravaging her was now as visible as a living man. He remained within her heat, leaning forward until he was face to face with her, bracing himself on his hands beside her head. "It's you." She whispered in wonder, her hands coming up to cup his face, unbothered by the damaged flesh. "You're mine doll." He stated in a tone that sounded normal for once, and not ghostly and distant. "Forever." He whispered while his eyes fluttered closed, as (Y/n) pulled in down to meet his lips in a searing passionate kiss.

"Forever." She agreed as they parted, despite knowing in her heart that she didn't have a choice anyways. Royce stood up right, and slowly eased his cock out of her tender pussy, smirking at the sounds she made as he did so. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss against her thigh, before retreating to grab her a new pair of panties from the dresser. "I knew there was a reason I was so drawn to you." (Y/n) mused when he returned to her side, slipping her panties up her legs slowly, his greedy eyes still drinking her in. "We were made for eachother sweetheart." Royce mused with a smile, kissing her knee this time. "How did you get in here?" She asked as he rose to his feet, sitting upright in the bed herself, which only placed her level with his chest. His hand cupped her jaw softly, and he tilted her head back to look into her eyes. "Cyrus led me here... He wants me to kill you." Royce was honest with her, and part of her appreciated that, but she couldn't help the bubble of fear. Would he kill her now to ensure they would be together forever?

"Help me reach him, and I'll deal with him once and for all." He explained as his fingers traced her jaw, soothing her fear and worries away. "Okay." She whispered in agreement, knowing if she didn't, Cyrus would just find another way to finish the job. It took the efforts of removing several glass panels before (Y/n) could lead Royce to Cyrus's library. "How!?" Cyrus cried out in fear when (Y/n) entered the room, a devious smirk tugging at her lips. "You should have picked someone else to kill me." She taunted as Royce stepped in behind her, not that Cyrus could see him without his glasses. "Wha-?" Before he could react Cyrus was struck upside the head with a bat, again, and again, and again. Until his head was nothing more than a grisly pile of mush on the glass floor, the sight of it made (Y/n) grimace before she cast her eyes to Royce. "I want to free the others and leave this place behind." She looked into his eyes as he approached, a smile gracing her lips when he cupped her cheek in his free hand. "I'll keep you safe from them." He promised before he kissed her tenderly, pleaded with her desire to help the others, and abandon this horrid house of glass.

Buy me a coffee sometime? ☕️

(Click the coffee for my Kofi link, IT'S NOT NECESSARY BTW.)

*Hehe you fucked a ghost. 👻 Want more with Royce? Let me know anytime! 🥰

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revelisms · 3 months

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Some (mostly angsty, somewhat wholesome?) Ghost headcanons that have been sitting on the back-burner of my writing recently.

AKA—I'm thinking about these four too much. Please send aid.

CWs: Dysfunctional family dynamics/power imbalance, sibling rivalry, weed, anger issues, parentification, smoking, self-worth issues, implied self-destructive behavior, light NSFW/sexual themes, misuse of magic(?), emotional manipulation(?), withheld birth information(??). Also silliness!

(...They're complicated, okay?)

Primo

Nihil's first child, born from a mother he never met. Sister entered the picture soon after, but was largely standoffish to him at first.

His early years were spent in the back of touring vans or nosing through books on horticulture and spells. He's the most magically-adept of the brothers, having a natural inclination for the craft, which has earned him (somewhat fittingly) a wizard-ish reputation. Since his retirement, he is quite literally the Ministry's ornamental hermit, in more ways than one; if he's not tending to the grounds, he's mulling away on herbal concoctions.

He's a kind man, but can be unsettlingly intimidating. There's an edge to his character that makes one question if a joke about bloodying a rival isn't much of a joke, at all. (The Ministry staff have gossip galore, which most take with a grain of salt...but, like. He definitely killed someone at some point. Maybe.)

As he grew up in the church, he gradually appealed to Sister's favor, becoming the "star child" of the family and leading by example: not only for getting the so-called "Unholy Cause" on its feet, but earning the initial stamp of approval for Nihil's Ghost project.

Secondo and Terzo have grown up in the shadow of this success, frequently being compared to him, and both have varying levels of resentment for it. Primo has always been aware of this; despite playing along with the demands placed on him, he has frequently tried to be more of a source of reassurance for the other brothers, and at times takes on an almost maternal role with them.

Dubbed "the mountain goat" by Secondo, and "the bat-eared one" by one of Terzo's many nicknames. Copia is somewhat skittish around him; from his side, it's strictly "brother" or bust.

He likes cats, springtime, and a nice joint now and then (the touring days left a definite mark). He also grows his own weed that an exclusive few are given access too—absolutely least of all, Terzo, due to an unnamed Incident in the past.

(The fool locked him into the greenhouse for hours once, as a prank. Primo had to occupy himself, somehow...needless to say, it led to the worst crossfade of his life.)

Secondo

Nihil and Sister's first child together, and Nihil's second son. He's the tallest of the brothers, and built like a deadweight champion, which leaves him (often humorously) looming over any eyes in sight.

Major middle child syndrome, and notorious anger management issues. He grew up dead-center in Nihil and Sister's rocky-at-best relationship days, often taking the brunt of their arguing when Primo was out for shows and Terzo was still young. He and Sister can't keep the peace to save their lives, and him and Nihil aren't much better off—but he did his best with the hand he was dealt, and largely won over Nihil's respect by carrying on the prestige of the Cause and generating wider global support for the tours.

This upbringing gave him a fairly wide threshold of annoyances he'll endure, particularly due to the insufferable antics he put up with from a wildly rebellious teenage Terzo (which has, to his utter chagrin, never changed; he can't stand the imbecile). But like anything, he has his limits. Eventually, his frustrations will hit a volcanic peak—once he's turned that corner, run.

Very close to Primo, often almost acting twin-like with him. They both dealt with a similar level of expectation, and both succeeded well in their roles. There's a bit of an older brothers vs. younger brothers separation they've fostered, by nature of this, and the two have found a mutual understanding that the others are more-or-less (and often begrudgingly) their responsibility. The self-appointed "Father" to Primo's "Mother."

Despite his bullish exterior, he's actually the most traditionally romantic of the brothers—sunset drives, candles, flowers, old cinematic jazz, the whole shebang. This tends to get overlooked for Terzo's Casanovian reputation, but there's a handful of those in the church who've had the privilege to see his softer side.

Was a fairly poor student; he dicked around his classes even more-so than Terzo, which is saying something. As a jab to get back at him for this, Nihil frequently assigned him lecture duty for the new siblings—something he unexpectedly found himself enjoying. He's since become a headmaster of sorts in the realm of the Ministry's academics, particularly around the history of the faith and, as a bit of an odd niche, the importance and use of magic objects across various practices in the church.

Despite being a strong performer, he's a brick wall during mass, which all the brothers hold over him like a plague. (He detests the church pulpit, and tends to deliver his sermons like the drier of his lectures; true "preaching" was never his strong suit). During his papal reign, he collected his bounty of masstime regulars, nonetheless, who seemed intent on showing up just to make him blush.

He's actually a very sheepish fellow, and it doesn't take much to have him in a panic (which many find adorable...but wouldn't dare say to his face). Absolutely the most easily flustered of the brothers, and will let you know it, loudly.

Is very particular about his silk ties: he has them all shipped in from one designer on the coast who specializes in the patterns he favors. Also has a collection of worry stones from all the beaches they've visited on tour, and smokes, to some detriment, like a chimney.

He's always been a lover of the sea: some future years in retirement could easily find him putting away as a charter captain for those who want to tour the chapels on the outer islands.

Terzo

Nihil and Sister's second child together, and Nihil's third son. Largely seen as the baby of the family, despite Copia being the youngest, and the shortest of the litter. As one would expect, also tends to claim the loudest personality; it's nigh-impossible to ignore him in a room.

Has a strained relationship with both Nihil and Sister, to a similar but different degree from Secondo. Nihil views him as his last "true" son and final heir to the Bloodline, which has put significant pressure on him to prove himself worthy of the mantle Primo and Secondo have left behind. He's also the most similar to Nihil out of the brothers, particularly in the traits their All-Father detests about himself (aka: KTGG-era recklessness, vanity, etc.), which has earned him some nasty moments on the back-end of Nihil's own narcissism and self-loathing.

Sister is fairly critical and unaffectionate towards him, as she feels he's squandered away much of his potential, and views him as largely uncommitted to the traditions of the church (which, fairly, he is—he's always been vocal on his call for modernization/reform) and his role (which he despises on a bureaucratic level, but genuinely enjoys as an opportunity to mentor the flock—i.e., get praise/attention). He's toed the line of her approval, for years: denying it as much as he craves it. A lot of his (egregious) issues with communication and vulnerability are, to no surprise, rooted from that.

Has been infamously, thanks to Nihil's vocal intervention, involved with ghouls—Omega, in particular—which is a big no-no for a host of legitimate magic-related concerns (and some wholly unwarranted superstitions from the church). Omega was perhaps his first "real" connection, so this is a deeply bitter wound for him. In general, any attempts at long-terms relationships have fallen through (out of his own self-sabotage, or disapproval from the family), so he has largely given up on them, even though he aches for that stability and companionship.

For that reason, despite being the most (in every sense) "open" of the brothers, he is, somewhat paradoxically, also the most guarded. Within the family, his emotions are known to be highly erratic, with a quick-draw inclination for angry meltdowns that rival Secondo's own. He's fairly quiet and anxious underneath the suave exterior.

Has tastes in music, film and literature most would find perplexing at face value (i.e., girlypop meets philosophy-of-death dronings meets eroticism even his idols would blush at). While he's not the sharpest tool in the box, get a few drinks in him and he'll give you a flawless dissertation on the history of European kink and fetish culture. (He's 100% the kinkiest of the group, and the most overtly experimental—both with his own identity and sexual partners.)

Hates winter. Absolutely hates it with his guts. (He slips too much.) Also occasionally smokes; he picked up a liking for the cigarettes Sister would import when he was younger.

The most musically-inclined of the brothers, and a natural charmer at the piano, though he plays it less often now than he did in his earlier/pre-Cardinal days.

Copia

Sister's son, more than likely born from a different father—though, for reasons none of the brothers have been made aware of, he's never been told of either, and any attempts to dig further into that has been dissuaded.

(The abridged version: he's a product of some deeply archaic ritual magic that Sister engaged in, without Nihil's awareness or permission, to extend the Bloodline to its "true" end. He is, by design, meant to be the Antichrist-incarnate, and any accidental explorations he's taken into spellcasting has only kept this hidden by a thread; his magic is extremely powerful—and deadly. He has a bone-deep suspicion that he is part of some predestined Thing, in that vein, and is very disturbed by it; it's information he doesn't feel like he can share with anyone.)

He was adopted into the family from a young age, and faced quite a bit of difficulty transitioning in. Although he immediately created a spike of jealousy in Terzo, it was actually him who took Copia under his wing the most, and the two remain relatively close, despite ongoing tensions between them (particularly due to Sister, who is openly and frequently affectionate towards Copia, and behaves the most "motherly" with him).

Has a lot of bottled frustrations with not understanding who or what he is, or the purpose he feels he is meant to deliver on—both from Sister's vagueness around his origins and Nihil's complete dismissal of him being part of the Bloodline. He's spent much of his adult life working to prove that he is good enough to belong to both: hence, his frequently high performance reviews in the church.

Has a very wry sense of humor once one cracks through his awkwardness, and a giant heart. He does, however, have the capacity to let an ugly streak sail out now and then (and has)—particularly when he feels he is being lied to, or having his agency pulled away from him.

The most cinematically-engaged of the brothers, particularly for classic films. One of his prime night routines is holing up with a plate of comfort food and throwing on a dismal black-and-white romantic drama that'll make him cry. (He's incredibly lonely. Terzo gets that, more than he realizes.)

Surprisingly, has a innate fashionability, but often doesn't have the chance to really flaunt this (until his papal ascension, at least). He loves vintage suits and blazers, and has a collection of antique cufflinks.

Has named every single rat and mouse in the Ministry, and explicitly banned pest control. Also drinks the most grotesquely sweet cocktail-adjacent mixtures one can make; Secondo calls his version of tinto de verano "bird nectar."

#the band ghost #ghost band headcanons #rambles #primo #papa i #secondo #papa ii #terzo #papa iii #copia #cardinal copia #papa iv #writing ghost fic - forced to think about ghost Things #hgh #these FOUR #absolutely in the trenches #headcanons

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tanglepelt · 7 months

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Run Ghost Run 16

prev master

Ellie and Constatine meet and plot with Lady Gotham, while Jason hunts for the child with someone else

Danielle wasn’t sure what to do in this situation.

She could handle ghosts and other supernatural beings. The solution is to punch first never asking questions, and gain dominance. If they can’t get up, you win! Sure fire way to get away. Jazz’s number one rule for her had always just been don’t get caught.

Which she never had! Well... never for long.

Fighting her way had always been the best and her personal favorite solution.

Humans and protection spirits though. Punching first made things worse. Humans just couldn’t stand it to quote it’s plain rude. Listen it’s not her fault humans are squishy. She never had that problem with her template. Protection ghosts and spirits. They fought back hard.

They were annoying to deal with.

Ugh. She had some bad fights in her history.

And whichever city ghost was in control here just dumped her. It was a good thing. Maybe? Hopefully. Ehh, she didn’t know. It probably wasn’t at least a bad sign.

The spirit wassss in discussion. And didn’t instantly deny her entry. Another good sign! While city protectors weren’t too common, they did pop up here and there. Some cities she couldn’t even enter without a fight. Apparently, she was too much trouble. They said shed cause more problems for those cities.

Getting in. First step of her not planned plan conquered. Now to find Danny!

Now she was dumped in front of this guy. So, there was a chance he was someone she trusted??? Tolerated?? Dealt with? She wasn’t too sure. This was new. Grand old time.

Time to face this one head on. Figuring out where to go next. Cause she could not for the life of her find Danny’s signature. The whole bat and bird’s thing on the note means Danny should be here.

Not many other people are known by that. Super easy to find on social media. Tons of conspiracy theories. The butts matched apparently. So obviously he had to be in Gotham. Why else would she be entering the territory of Batman?

He was a detective, right?

If Danny was there, Batman would know.

Hopefully the lack of a signature was some tech or something. The only other time she had heard of a signature just not being traceable was with dire health. AS in DEATH health. It takes a lot for a ghost to pass. Danny couldn’t feel her and she nearly destabilized.

It HAD to be tech.

Right. She had a guy to question! She should do that rather than just stare him down.

The man with the trench coat! He had to know something.

Now she couldn’t keep staring at him with her head to the side like a confused dog. Cause a sad man in a trench coat was not what she expected. He looked very much like he needed a nap. But that wasn’t important. She needed answers. And she needed them now!

Then again, the man seemed off. Human for sure but definitely off? Messed up? Incomplete?? She didn’t know. He was another new thing. But she still needed to question the man!

Danielle was about to begin her detective work and huh?

She didn’t even get a chance to say a word and poof the man was cussing. She didn’t do anything. This man now is a target. When he reached for a lighter clearly ready to smoke. Which was very bad for the man. Obviously, she could help him out. It was totally not out of spite for cussing the minute he saw her. She chose chaos. She didn’t know this man.

Clearly, he had bad coping methods. Even if they weren’t. This was too much of a fun opportunity to pass up. Maybe she was a problem.

Freezing the lighter “you know those are bad for you right, any chance you know who the spirit of this city is

Cause I need info. Either you or her?” Yea, she thinks the spirit was a girl. Just a feeling. “Need to answer my questions!

“Your worse than the bat” the man grumbled

“As in the birds and bats!! Like Batman??? Please say you know where that one is at least”

“Th-“

Danielle interrupted the man “cause like. I have a sticky note! Green and glowing saying to find my template with the birds and bats!!! And the weird eyeball drawing. That’s a future me problem!”

She couldn’t help but wave the sticky note in his face. She needed to find at least something out. It would get her in the right direction.

The man backed away from her. Which rude. All she did was get up in his space. Danny and his friends never minded. “That’s bloody coated in ectoplasm.”

“Duh. I’m like 90% positive it came from clockwork. Danny complains about him giving him tasks via green sticky notes.”

The guy’s face seemed to go several shades lighter. The spirit dumped her in front of him. Shouldn’t he know this stuff?? Who else communicates green glowing sticky note?

“Seriously tho Danny? Batman??? Even the spirit would be great. I gotta go stab my template” time to get them back on track.

The man taking a deep breath got something useful out of his mouth. “Lady Gotham stepped away, right in the bloody middle of a deal.”

“Ewww. Deals aren’t a smart move. They like to tick ya!” she just had to inform this guy. Clearly, he didn’t understand the risk.

The man seemed to think about something. Hopefully taking her advice to mind. “Well. Gotta find the prince as she’s been putting it. Heard he was in right trouble. More than happy to make a deal to help the kid.”

“You’re looking for Danny two!!! The note told me to find him and had the ecto dejecto on it” now she knew why the spirit dumped her here. She had to help him! Trench coat man might just be useful after all. The other ghost she meets always talked about how the new king was more of a prince. “If he’s in trouble we gotta help him. I knew something was wrong! The weird dreams and other ghost being yoinked back to the zone!”

“Exactly. Unless ya got another way to find him deals got to be made”

Hmmm. Well, that made some sense. Danny was untraceable. Of this lady Gotham had my clue of where he was. She’d have every right to enforce some deal. But. Should Mr. trench coat do it.

Or.

She did have the thing that was likely to help him. Most ghosts wanted Danny not dead. That’d leave a gap or something. Politics not her thing. Soo. She had a bargaining chip.

Well. There wasn’t much time to think about it anymore. She felt this lady reaching out with her ecto. Trench coat also noticed. “I’ll take lead. No deal making for you. Its awfully stupid for a human” she could always just freeze him or something id he tried anything.

The man looked ready to say something but never got the chance. The ghost was done!!! Most of been a quick unimportant talk then. She let the darkness overcome her.

Emotional sensing? Manipulation?! Wow this spirit is strong.

Indeed.

Mind reading!! Cool. Imma cut to the chase. Where’s Danny? I gotta stab him per clockwork.

As I informed Constantine, I had a deal with the prince. I will not help my knight, by extension those working with them. A deal had to be made.

Well, I’m no knight. Frighty is the only knight I know!!! I could care less about trench coat. Boot him and tell me!!

That may work.

Danielle felt the annoyance from the man.

He was injected with bloody blood blossoms. Which should have killed the kid. Ya need someone who can flush them out. I’m well okay ta not tell the bloody bats where he’s at.

Wait what?!?!?

The young prince is not well. He needs help yet refuses what has been offered. Refuses to see past surface level misunderstandings.

Okay okay. Danny needs help. We all need to deal with this. I need trench coat man. So how about this. You tell me where Danny is located. I stab him trench coat scans him. You ensure his safety, and we don’t tell the birds and bats.

It favors us all. Do we have a deal?

He can’t believe he lost the kid.

Jason blames Bruce’s. 100% all his fault. He just had to insist on a call. Had to bug him and get in the way. Something spooked him.

Danny looked terrified as he fled. Like he was expecting him to hurt him or do something to him. He had managed to get him in. Room.

Got him out of the street.

Something set him off. He overheard something from the phone conversation. So, kids definitely got enchanted hearing. That’s 1000 % confirmed.

Taking the call had been his worst decision yet.

All Bruce’s fault.

For now. He had to play hunt the child. Kid had the backpack, he got that going for him.

There were some medical supplies there. Which is a good thing. He didn’t see any supplies to go out in the wilderness. That was also a good thing. Kid couldn’t just disappear into the swamp or something. Then the tracker he planted. Never be too paranoid it seems. All he had to do is pull it up and find the kid yet again.

Keep a farther following distance and hope he hasn’t high tailed it out of Gotham. That would make things more complicated.

Nice simple plan. By all accounts it should have worked. Should have been the best method. He followed all the standard stalking guidelines. Get a tracker on the subject.

But the program.

The way to track.

Absolutely glitching out. Pinging randomly. At one point at the library the next second a café. Could the kid teleport? Or was it a glitch?? But Barbara had set up that program.

The picture was glitched.

Could that be a part of this?

Brnng brnng

Bruce was back to calling.

Which was the problem in the first place. Yea no. He ain’t getting him involved. Kid absolutely wanted nothing to do with the weird vigilantes. Batman was the biggest one.

He’d just follow the tracker and hope for the best. One had to be right.

Nope. Not. Signal one. They just went nowhere and everywhere. What was up with this. Pictures were glitchy, videos were a mess. Mind. Simple tracker wasn’t working at all.

Maybe since the tracker was staying in Gotham he was still here.

If he were to map out every location the tracker was pinging. He could check the center of where it was. That’s a supernatural thing. Right?

The acts did see them as ghosts. Supernatural may just be the key.

He’d have to put a pin on that plan for a second. He’d make the next conversation quick. He had a kid to find. Again.

“Little wing.”

“Something spooked the kid; I blame the bat. Trackers don’t seem to do jack except bounce everywhere.” At least Bruce wasn’t the one bugging him. “Unless you have any leads got a kid to hunt down.”

“New theory. Oracle has an inkling he was unknowingly looking for us. Bats and birds are our thing. Then being in Gotham. Kids clueless about heroes. The research paper just didn’t track.

But there is a bigg-“

Both him and dick turned to. One of his goons.

“Ummm” the goon he thinks it was mark “there’s been sightings of men in white suits approaching your territory”

Crap.

He was off. Dick close behind.

“Have a lead yourself.”

“An idea” hoping the middle point works.

“There is reason to believe kid can sense those around the pits. I was able to watch him on the roof about 5 minutes, no issues. Minute robins in the area. He’s aware.

Red Robin. On a prohibited coffee run was clocked at the doorway.”

Huh.

Maybe it wasn’t just general like he thought. Danny always seemed to track him. Knew where he was.

“If the location pans out. "You can take lead” kids' safety was more important at this point. “He’s against you vigilantes adamantly.”

“Two eyes are better than one still.”

“A single agent gets close I ain’t staying back.” They weren't getting ahold of the kid again.

“Wouldn’t expect anything else little wing.”

#dcxdp #dpxdc #run ghost run

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cluelessatthispoint · 1 year

Note

How’d mercs react when their S/O broke a bone in their body ?

OOOOOH! This is a good ask! I've never broken a bone before; I can only imagine what the pain and confusion is like.

Well, after finally getting a new laptop, here is your request.

~~~~~~~~

The sound of muffled yelling and a faint buzzing assaulted your ears. The feeling of all the air in your lungs leaving your body was almost as noticeable as the faint tingling sensation in your leg. The company picnic went from roaring cheers to an eerie silent. Your eyes were wide and unfocused, blurry shapes darted in front of your face. The sun felt all too warm of your skin and the breeze that ghosted over the field engulfed your form in a toasty embrace. The person kneeling in front of you drops their bat and from what you can tell, waves their hand in front of your eyes. Pitifully blinking away the tears, you finally are able to register the searing white hot pain radiating in your left leg.

Scout:

"Holy Crap!" (y/n)!? Are you okay?"

Lifting your head from off the matted field you struggle to lift the rest of your body from the ground.

"I wouldn't move if I were you-that looks really bad! I mean I ain't no doctor-but good thing we have a medic on base!"

Blinking away your tears you try to look down at where the pain is coming from, but calloused fingers gently bring your face to look away.

In short: Scout knows the basics of how to make a splint; but since it's you, he takes you to Medic. Scout makes you soup, gets you an icepack, elevates your leg with plenty of pillows and makes sure to give you the right dosage of pain medication. And when times are really rough, he will sit down next to you and snuggle. His long lanky arms wrapped around your chest as you lean all your weight into his side.

Sniper:

"Look at me Roo, look at me."

Sniper's commanding voice draws your attention away from the crowd of people swarming in to offer assistance. His wide blue eyes gaze at you in concern. Looking you over for any other injuries he motions for medic to come over. The rest of the day is a blur, you remember how firm and gentle hands ushered you to lay back down in Sniper's hold. The feeling of your leg growing numb and heavy. Every time you let out a small noise of discomfort Sniper leaned down to your ear and whispered small comforts and distractions.

At the end of the day, you and Sniper are resting in bed. Your head nestled gently against his chest.

Soldier:

You can't be sure if you're the one screaming or if your boyfriend is. All you see are lips moving and how exaggerated his arm movements are. The situation would almost be comical if not for the blinding pain making its presence known in your leg.

"(Y/N)!"

"(Y/N), don't move, don't move a single inch! Medic is on his way! When he's here then you can move!"

You blink up at Soldier, his wide eyes and quivering lip betraying his confident persona. When the cast is set in place, and you are sent back to your room Soldier makes great efforts to ensure your safety and well-being. He will wrap you in your favorite blankets and bring you all your favorite snacks. Time was passed, by watching tv, or listening to all his war stories.

Spy:

That one second of pain was all it took for him to disappear and reappear by your side. Whispering sweet words of comfort, he cradled your head in his chest with one hand while silently beckoning the resident medic out onto the field. His soft voice anchors you to this moment. It's calming in a scary sort of way. Being in his profession; Spy knows for sure what kind of pain you are going through. All the times he had to make sure that he wasn't left behind enemy lines unable to defend himself. How he delt with that fear, how he dealt with that pain. He wants to make sure that you never have to be in pain while alone. Back at base he treats you as if you were made of the finest porcelain. As if one wrong move might shatter you. He makes Medic do daily check-ups to see how you are and he makes you all the finest home cooked meals that you could ever want.

Demoman:

His strong arms wrap around your torso and gently picks you up, only to set you back down when your leg moves in an unnatural angle. Eye widening in shock, he runs back to the tent and drags a concerned Medic over.

"Aye, Look at me darlin-aye that's right, focus only on me-you're okay, you're okay."

When Medic is done looking you over, he carries you bridal style back to his room and makes you as comfortable as he possibly can. He brings over a deck of cards to play with, the tv set from the rec room, even the bookshelf from your room.

Pyro:

All hell breaks loose. Dragging both Engineer and Medic to your side he pets your head as Medic turns you over to your front side. Engineer: on the opposite side of Pyro and Medic, supports the rest of your weight as you are carried over to the medical wing. Pyro sticks by your side while Medic works his magic. His warm arms encase you in a tight embrace when you finally are declared healthy enough to go back to your room for rest. Pyro brings you all his stuffed animals, games, plushies and blankets. Anything you need and more is brought into your room making the space look more like a daycare than a normal room.

"Thank you Py, I really appreciate it."

Heavy:

When he sees you fall, he sees red. His instincts go on overdrive. He rushes over as fast as he can and without warning he resets your leg and makes a splint.

"Shhh, it is okay to cry, let it out."

Looking you over and trying to assess the situation only one conclusion comes to mind.

"Now we go to see Medic."

Leaving no room for an argument he lifts you up and brings you to the doctor. After getting pain medication, he carries you to your room and makes you his homemade soup. Heavy knows how much pain you are in and strives to make you feel comfortable. He treats you no different, because he already treated you like royalty.

Medic:

Seeing you struggle to stand back up from that nasty fall was all it took for Medic to know that something was amiss. He asks Heavy to return with a gurney and he sprints over to your side. His questions are clam and practiced, but his tone of voice has a noticeable falter. Enough to know that he was scared.

"Alrighty, now we are going to pay little Archimedes a visit in the lab, and then we shall go on from there, ja?"

Medic wastes no time in getting cast on and giving you medicine. He knows that now you are physically okay. But he wants to know what's going on upstairs. Gently he takes you back to your room and helps you undress and redress in more comfortable clothing.

"Lieb?"

You say nothing but hold on to him as tightly as you can.

Engineer:

Engineer has seen his fair share of accidents working out on the farm as a child. So, when you fall, and the sound of a CRUNCH was heard that was all he needed to know that you were not all right.

"I'm coming Darlin!"

Strong hands turn you over to your front and you are greeted with the brightest blue eyes that you've ever seen.

"Hey, Dell."

The calm aura that you were letting off only confirmed the fact that you didn't know that your leg was broken yet.

"Alright, I'm going to take you over to Medic so he can look you over, how's that sound?"

You could only nod in agreement.

After getting settled with a cast and a numb leg. Engineer carried you to his room and made you some tea, snacks and brought over some blankets. For the next few weeks, it felt as if you were in heaven on earth.

~~~

Ta da! Hope you like it!

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it-was-funeral-grey · 1 year

Text

Again (Ghost x F!Reader)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5(wip!)

Summary: Luck had saved you from death, and now it's going to throw you back into the life that you've left behind. Call you and Simon pessimistic, but you both don't think this is going to end well.

Warnings: Just a reminder that reader's CODE NAME is Dahila, reader is wearing a dress, ooc Soap? actually im pretty sure ghost is ooc in this whole series to (idk let me know), Simon is mean to Soap, mentions of wedding dances, falling backwards, vulgarities, injuries and passing out, mention of burning, a guy that can't accept a no, mention of sexual tension.

Word count: <3.7k

Inspired by: Robbers - The 1975

"There'll be a riot, cause I know you."

Author's note: ah yes, when i don't know how to describe something or get a block, what do it do? switch perspectives!

this is terrible im sorry i really tried!

Please give criticism! Also, if i missed any warnings, do tell me so i can add them!

Soap thinks he has had enough surprises today.

It was one thing to see his LT rage at nothing. It was another thing to see his LT handle his weapons so clumsily.

But this? This takes the fucking cake.

The moment he took aim at the target's head, Ghost had decked him so hard that he was sure something had broken.

He's wearing a bulletproof vest. Do you know hard you must punch to break a bone in that thing?!

"What the FUCK, LT?", Soap exclaims.

But Ghost wasn't paying attention to him, currently engaged in a staring competition with the target.

"Dahila." Ghost whispered. He's turned to face the target, but even without looking at the tall man's face- or rather, eyes, Soap is aware that he's seeing a new side of his LT he's not sure he's supposed to.

The target - perhaps he should refer to her as Dahila now, doesn't respond. She's been chained to the chair, and Soap would have felt sorry for her had she not been his target.

"L…T?"

"Dahila, why," Ghost's voice trembles. "Why are you here?"

Soap's never heard his LT speak so softly before.

Dahila's mouth opens, but no words come out. Her face pales as she clenches her fists. She looks like she's seen a ghost.

Ok. There's clearly some history between these two, Soap realises. Tired of being ignored, he slowly picks himself up, wincing when his vest digs into his bruised chest.

"What's going on, LT?" Soap asks cautiously.

The tension was so thick it was making Soap uncomfortable. And he's a Special Ops soldier. He's dealt with worse situations without batting an eye.

Suddenly, Ghost whips around to face him, the softness in his tone now replaced with fury.

"Did you know?" Ghost fumes, stomping towards him. "Did you know the target was her?"

"The name of the target was on the file!" Soap shoots back, backing away from the angry man. "LT! What's going on?"

More enemies might come any moment now. They have to finish the job, free the guy upstairs, and leave.

Picking up the gun, Soap prepares to take aim.

"Put the gun down."

"Ghost, we gotta finish this and run."

"I said put the BLOODY GUN DOWN!"

A whimper comes from behind Ghost, cutting the argument short. In an instant, both men look back at the bound woman.

"Simon." she sobs. Her shoulders drop in what seems like relief.

"Leave us."

"What?"

"Go. Please…go," Simon sighs, shaking his head. "I'll explain everything later."

Saying 'please'? His LT was pretty much begging him to leave.

His proud, commanding LT was begging.

Running a hand through his mohawk, Soap lets out a frustrated grunt and turns to leave the basement.

Seriously. That was enough surprises for the whole damn year, and it's only January.

He didn't know.

He just clicked the confirm button the moment the job was offered. All he knew was that it was a kill mission. He had been so caught up in misery that he had forgotten to check the file about the target.

He was becoming careless.

He had accepted a job to kill her.

He had accepted a job to kill his Dahila.

A lot is going through his head right now. Shame, shock, confusion - but Simon being Simon, decides to go with the one he's most familiar with.

Anger.

But really, it's actually concern in a bad disguise. Not that Simon will admit that.

("Now, number two!" she continued, holding up two fingers. "Never, under any circumstance, attempt to access the server after you retire from service.")

Why the fuck did she do that? She knew what was coming. If anyone else had accepted the job, she'd be long dead.

She'd be gone, and he wouldn't even know.

She'd be gone, and he'll be the only one carrying their shared memories.

"What on earth were you thinking?!" Simon shouts, turning to face her. "If anyone else had been sent, you'd be dead!"

She lets out a shocked yelp, flinching at the loud sound. This stops Simon in his tracks, any anger he feels disappearing in an instant.

She's scared

She's scared of him.

And who wouldn't be? If you a were kill-on-sight target of the world's finest soldiers, you'd be wary of anybody and everybody.

Even the person you had just admitted your love for.

("Because I love you, Simon!")

"I-god, no- I," Simon lets out a defeated sigh. "I'm not going to hurt you, love. Never."

She doesn't look too convinced, teary eyes eyeing him warily.

The distrust stings, and he wants to disappear, to punish himself for scaring her, to cut his arms off to prove that he would never hurt her, but he brushes it aside.

Getting her out of here safe was his only priority right now.

Everything else is inconsequential.

("Because I love you, Simon!")

Even his own feelings.

Composing himself, he takes a deep breath. Placing his weapons onto the floor, he raises his hands, showing her that he's unarmed now.

"I'm just going to get these chains off," Simon's voice now gentler as he takes slow steps towards her. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

She doesn't take her eyes off him as he approaches her and bends down to inspect the chain.

A while ago, if anyone had told Simon that he'd have her undivided attention, he would have been over the moon.

But not like this. And Simon swears that once he gets her to safety, he's going to hunt down the motherfucker that-

No, now's not the time for this, Simon chides himself. He can deal with these feelings later. Right now, feelings will only get in the way of his judgement.

And he is NOT risking losing her over a stupid, emotionally fueled decision.

The chains are a mess, some looping through each other, others locked together using padlocks. Simon doesn't think he's going to be able to break her out of it without the proper tools. Which, of course, they didn't bring. They weren't expecting to save the target.

Which reminds him that he still has Soap to deal with. He's going to need to convince Soap to let her live. How's he going to do that?

For a split second, the idea of killing Soap and escaping with her seemed really appealing, but he quickly dismisses the thought.

He did promise Soap that'd he explain everything. He'll table the idea of killing Soap for now.

The sergeant should be upstairs, freeing the prisoner he said he found.

Standing back up, Simon walks back over to his weapons, grabbing his pistol from the pile. He hears her chair shift noisily, trying to get away from him, and he makes the mistake of turning around too fast in an attempt to reassure her quickly.

"No! Hey, wait- I'm not going to-"

But then the chair tilts back a little too much-

The pain doesn't come.

Instead, you feel the chair jerk forward. Something has stopped you from falling all the way.

Opening your eyes, the first and only thing you see is a white skull mask.

Simon.

He's so close.

He has an arm around the back of your chair, his fingers brushing against your waist. His other hand holds your head, supporting your neck. His face is right above yours. And oh, his eyes-

("Ok, a hand on my waist," you had instructed, guiding Simon's hand. "And your other hand…goes…here!"

"Love, what are you doing?"

"Ok, I'm gonna lie back now!"

"Wait-"

Ignoring his protests, you lean back, and Simon scrambles to support you.

"Ok! Now lower me more!"

"What?"

"Lower me! Like in the video!"

"What video?!"

"Like those dancers in the ballrooms! Lower me!"

You were trying to get Simon to do a dip with you. After watching a video of a couple's wedding dance, you wanted to try it.

"Lower me!"

"I don't know how!")

His eyes gaze into yours with an emotion that you can't quite name. But it feels so warm, so calming, so much so that you forget that he's actually here to kill you.

For a moment, time stands still. The space around you changes into something more familiar, more like home.

It's just you and Simon again in the living room, trying to copy that couple's wedding dance.

("Ok, bend forward…yes! I think we're doing it! Are we doing it, Si!?"

"Love, if the neighbours hear what you just said, they'd think-"

"Si!")

But it's all over too soon. Simon looks away and leans back, pulling you upright.

"Are you alright?"

You nod your head.

"I… just wanted to give you this," Simon says, picking up the pistol and handing it to you. "I need to head up for a bit to talk to the other guy."

You cautiously take the pistol. Despite not knowing how to use it, the weight feels comforting in your hand.

"Just so you feel more at ease," Simon continues. "I know you're scared and probably don't trust me, but…I'm not going to hurt you."

With that, he turns around and leaves the basement, trusting you not to shoot him in the back.

The moment you're alone, you slump into your chair, dropping the pistol into your lap.

What the fuck is happening?

Simon is here!

Simon. Is. Fucking. Here.

To kill you! To rescue you.

You should be dead now! But you're not! Whee!

Why is he here?!

After two whole years of nothing, why is he here?

Conflicting emotions pop around your brain, and you feel like your head is about to burst. You press your hands over your eyes, hoping that the pressure will relieve the tension in your head.

You feel something cold press against your face. Your engagement ring.

Max.

Oh god, you forgot about Max.

Simon finds Soap on the third floor of the building, in a small room that reeks of gasoline.

He soon finds out why. In the center of the room, passed out and tied to a pole, is a man whose jeans are soaked with the liquid.

They were going to burn the poor lad, Simon thinks, watching Soap cut the last rope.

But then, Simon realises that he's seen the man before.

(He was wearing a slick black suit, eyes glowing as he looked up at the gorgeous lady he was kneeling for. He had a ring box in one hand and the other over his heart.)

It's him.

The fiancé.

Simon has to fight the urge to pull out his lighter and-

"So, gonna tell me what's up, LT?" Soap huffs, interrupting Simon's murderous thoughts.

Good question, Johnny. What is happening?

Oh, the love of my life - who I left two years ago to go on THAT mission- is actually the agent we've been sent to kill. And lying on the floor over there, like a pathetic dog, is her new fiancé. My heart is in shambles just thinking about them together. That's why I was acting so strange earlier! Now, we can't kill her. If you try, I'll burn you together with him.

That sounds about right. Now, all he needs to do is rearrange some words and voilà! An explanation that Soap would hopefully accept.

"We can't kill her," Simon replies, unable to look the frowning sergeant in the eye. "She's…my recommendation for 141's intelligent agent spot."

Ah yes, lie to make it sound more convincing! Great job, Simon! Instead of being honest with your best friend, who you know for a fact would hear you out and help, lie! Not today, emotional vulnerability!

"I'm sorry, what?"

"She's," Simon takes a deep breath. He's in for it now. He can't take this back. "She's my recommendation for the intelligence agent spot."

"You can't be serious, LT!" Soap scoffs in disbeilef. "She violated server access rules! She's selling information!"

"We don't know if she's done that-"

"She's a kill-on-sight target!"

"Soap, I know it looks bad, but-"

A faint jingling, followed by a heavy dragging sound, interrupts the two men from arguing further.

Simon immediately lifts a finger to his lips, gesturing to Soap to prepare for a fight. Nicking a pistol from Soap's thigh holster, Simon approached the doorway as quietly as he could manage before making a sharp turn into the hallway and seeing-

Your legs really hurt.

And so do your arms, but at least they aren't bleeding. Much.

The way the chains secured you to the chair looked complicated, but you quickly realised that there were only two parts to this whole puzzle after bending and twisting around weirdly in the chair.

One: A set of chains secured your ankles together. Not so much so that your legs stuck together, but enough to make walking a no-go. However, you couldn't tell what was linking these chains shut from where you were looking.

Two: Another set of chains secured each leg to the chair legs. The chain that was doing so looped into the chains around your ankles and linked itself shut using padlocks.

Since your hands were freed, nothing was stopping you from standing up. So, your next issue was getting rid of the chair. That was easy because all you had to do was…stand up and pull the chair upwards, past the chains.

That was anti-climactic.

Throwing the chair aside, you look down to get a better look at the chains securing your ankles. After shifting around and trying not to fall over, you find the two ends were linked by a padlock with a 3-digit code.

You tried easing your feet out of the chains, but they were bound too tight. There was no way to get these off. Not unless you were willing to try passcode combinations from 001-999.

But you have to get out of here. To get to Max. You can't let those two hurt him.

So the next best alternative was to crawl which was what you were currently doing. Well, more of dragging yourself, really.

Using your arms, you managed to drag yourself to the basement ladder. And by the sheer force of will and jumping, climbed the ladder and escaped the basement.

You could hear voices coming from above. Following the voices, you painstakingly drag yourself up the stairs, each 'step' becoming more painful as bruises, cuts and scratches begin to mark your arms and legs.

All in the name of love, right? You need to save Max. Your fiancé. The love of your life.

("Because I love you, Simon!")

It was a small building, so it didn't take you much time to reach the third floor, where you managed to locate the room where the two men supposedly were.

Dragging yourself as fast as you can, you're finally a step away from the entrance when a foot nearly steps on your fingers.

Yelping in surprise, you find yourself staring up at the barrel of a gun before it is quickly retracted.

"Dahila!?"

Simon looks into the room, signalling something before kneeling next to you.

"Are you alright? How did you-"

"Don't touch him," You reach a hand into your dress pocket, pulling out Simon's pistol. "Where is he?"

"Easy love, put-"

"Don't 'Love' me! Where is he?" You demand, pointing the pistol at Simon. Your arms are shaky, and you're pretty sure he could disarm you and snap your neck in a second, but you stand your ground. Or rather, lie on your ground.

"Put it down, lass." Someone warns. It's the mohawk guy from before. He's come out of the room and has a rifle aimed at you.

"Ok, both of you! Enough!" Simon orders, shifting to block you from the rifle. "Guns down! Now, Soap!"

Soap reluctantly obliges, eyes glaring at yours. Simon then turns to you, raising his hands up in surrender.

"Lo- Dahila, if you're asking about the other gent we found, he's in here," He motions to the room. "He's fine."

Simon shifts back slowly, allowing you space to move in front of the door. Lowering your gun, you drag yourself to the entrance and look in. There he was. But he wasn't moving.

"What did you do to him?" you yelled, turning to Simon. "You said that he was fine!"

"He's just passed out. Was like that when he found him." Simon replies, pointing a thumb at Soap behind him. Soap just shrugs, supporting what Simon said.

The gasoline was pungent and stung as it made contact with your wounds, but you press on, dragging yourself closer to Max.

"Max," you whisper, cupping his face gently. You shift to kneel beside him as you check him for injuries. His breath was steady, and he didn't seem to have any visible injuries, to your relief. "Oh, Max…I'm so sorry."

Your eyes begin to water again. This was all your fault. What was supposed to be a happy holiday has turned into a nightmare. Ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and now you're going to die.

"He has nothing to do with this," your voice quivers as tears begin to fall. "It was all me. Kill me and leave him alone."

Even though you had assumed they would save Max, thinking of him as a prisoner of your captors, that wasn't a guarantee. In the end, Max's life is still at the mercy of others. It's just a matter of who.

And that's why you did all this, right? To give Max a fighting chance at surviving this whole shitshow. Under Samuel, it was undeniable that he'd be killed. But the Special Ops may give him a chance.

So, you beg.

"Please, kill me if you must," you're sobbing again as you hold Max's hand. "Please, spare his life. He's just a banker, he's just a civilian- he's innocent, plea-"

"We're not killing either of you folks," Soap interrupts, sighing as he looks away from your crying figure. "We're just gonna bring him back to the base for observation."

Relief blooms in your chest, and you drop Max's hand. He's going to live. He's going to be fine. They'll protect him back at their base.

"And as for you," Soap continues. "We'll be taking you back there as well. To see the boss man."

Huh?

"Yes," Simon adds. "You're my recommendation for our intelligence agent spot, remember? You're going to need to speak with the Captain first."

What?

Simon's giving you a weird look. He's giving you that look. No, not THAT kind of look.

(This sucks. You want to leave.

But you can't really leave your own shop.

"So, Miss Flower," the man in an ugly green suit smiles. "How about we go in the back and…play amongst the flowers?"

Ugh. This is the fourth time this week he's tried to flirt with you. He really can't take a no for an answer.

"I'm sorry, but-"

"Oh, come on! I know you want it," He starts to lean in, invading your personal space. "I'll buy all the flowers we trample over."

"Love? Everything ok?"

A familiar, soothing voice sounds from behind you, and you stiffen as a hand snakes around your waist. You feel a warmth right next to your face as someone leans over your shoulder.

You turn your head, and there he was.

Simon.

He's so close.

He gives you a weird look.

Play along.

You nod.

"O-oh! Nothing honey! Just chatting with a customer here!" You stammer. But it's enough to convince the man. He mutters a rushed goodbye, as he storms out of the shop.

Immediately, the two of you separate.

"I'm so sorry, I just thought that-" Simon mutters, his hand doing a poor job of hiding his flushed face.

"No! No, it's fine," you cut him off. You're pretty sure your face is as red or even more so than his. "Thank you for dealing with…that."

It's so hot. It's cold outside, but it still feels so hot. The air has a spark to it. It feels like at any moment, the spark will set something aflame. And you kind of want to burn. Together with Simon.

You later learn that that is called sexual tension.

That very week, you and Simon start dating.)

He's asking me to play along.

You don't know what the fuck Simon has up his sleeve, but you nod, wiping your tears while you're at it.

"This is going to be hell to explain to the Captain, Ghost."

"He'll understand."

"How is he going to overturn a kill-on-sight order?"

"He'll figure it out."

"The higher up are going to hang us for this."

"Nah, they won't."

The duo bicker amongst themselves as they approach the two of you.

"Get the bloke. I'll carry her out after checking her wounds."

"Got it."

Soap picks up Max in a fireman carry and walks out the door. You wait until he is out of earshot before whispering to Simon, who now kneels beside you, inspecting your cuts.

"What the fuck, Simon?"

"It was the only thing I could think of to convince Soap not to shoot you."

"I left that life a long time ago!"

"If you want to live, this is the only way."

He's right. And you hate him for it.

There's silence as he tends to your wounds. What do you say to the man who broke your heart two years ago, and then saved your life? Do you curse him out? Scream at him for leaving you so coldly?

("Because I love you, Simon!")

Or you could just pretend that you didn't just confess your love for him on what you thought was your deathbed.

Yeah, that works.

There's too much happening. Too many conflicting emotions. You can't speak. Maybe it's better that you don't.

But whatever it is, the only thing you know for sure is that you're going to be returning to a life you thought you left behind for good.

You'll be working with Special Ops again.

You'll be sworn to secrecy again.

You'll be working with Simon.

Again.

This is going to be an emotional disaster.

Join the Taglist!

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #call of duty mwii #cod mw2 #cod mwii #tangents

66 notes · View notes

gilbirda · 1 year

Text

Can't help falling in love (with you) Chp.4

Jazz/Jason (Anger Management). DP x Batman crossover.

Based on this post

When a ghost does shenanigans, Jazz usually stays out of the trouble, since that's her brother's thing. This time? This time trouble found her in the form of a ghost that marries her to the Red Hood against her will.

For DPxDC Week!

Day 5: A royal problem.

[Read on AO3][Read on FF.net]

First chapter || << Prev chapter || Next chapter >>

---

Chapter 4: Shot through the heart (and you are to blame)

Curse or no curse, Jason wasn’t mad about being married to that woman.

He never wanted to get married, or do the whole romance thing in general. Never saw the need to be with someone else, or subject someone to the mess of a person he was - he was self aware enough to know he wasn’t exactly that good of a life partner.

This Jasmine chick seemed nice and overall badass, she didn’t need someone like him in her life.

That being said, he wouldn’t mind knowing her more.

Man! Whatever Danny did to him was doing wonders to his mind! He had stopped feeling the urge to agree to anything she said and stopped feeling like the world spun around her.

He still felt a bit of awe, an infatuation, as she geared up with a calm demeanor that told of years doing the same dance over and over again. Consider it some kind of kinship with his way of life - she wasn’t a vigilante, but apparently a ghost hunter, and that was close enough.

It was like seeing someone with the same outfit, or the same haircut; a sense of solidarity in their lifestyle that inevitably made him feel closer than a civilian. He had never had a moment where he saw someone and thought, ‘yeah, this person could get me’, until now.

That’s why he wanted to follow her. He wanted to see her in her own turf, see her fight once again, and get that rush he got at the mall earlier in the day. Also, they made a great team.

“Go.” Right. Bruce was still there, watching him. Creepy old man. “I’ll look for the other affected people, you follow the siblings.”

“Are you trusting me to go alone?”

Batman actually smiled. “Apparently, the safest place for you right now is at her side.”

Jason lifted an eyebrow. “Really?”

“She seems nice.”

“You only say that because she called you out.”

“What can I say? She impressed me.” They looked at each other for a few moments. “Once the situation is dealt with please take them both to the Cave. We need to know more about these ghosts.”

Red Hood groaned. Bruce was behaving but the paranoia was showing - not that he disagreed with him, since suddenly accepting that not only ghosts were a thing (as in, actual villains that did magic tricks) but that the mysterious meta that’s been messing with the Bats was actually just a kid; well, that was too much in too little time.

Huh.

And that he may or may not be married to a stranger. That too.

The others couldn’t know about this.

“Alright.” He walked up to the window, grappling gun in hand. “I’ll keep my comms open, yes.” He added before Bruce could say the reminder.

The older man smiled, the facial expression a bit out of place in the cowl, but it was genuine. “Take care.”

“Always do.”

With that, he jumped out and grappled to a nearby rooftop, setting his path in the direction he felt the pull in his chest. It wasn’t like the Pit, at least not the same sensation. It was akin in nature but not… prickly? Not aggressive, just a beacon of light that was impossible to miss.

The same with the Pit inside of him. It was quieter, gentler, a constant pressure in the back of his mind, but that wasn’t trying to take over his every thought. He was starting to understand that he really, really had been very fucked up.

Everything was so clear now, so defined, and colorful. It was like coming up for air after being underwater for too long.

He owed Danny a big one.

Soon he heard the roaring engine of Jazz’s bike and adjusted his course to follow it, finding her speeding into the night, her turns sharp and precise, with a clear destination. It wasn’t hard to determine where she was going, actually, since sounds of the fight were getting louder as well.

There it was, the floating figure of the meta - or ghost, as he now stood corrected - flying around what Jason assumed was the ghost that was behind all the mess.

He landed about at the same time Jazz drifted into a stop and turned off the engine, quickly taking off the helmet, eyes fixed on the ghost fight going on.

“Oh, hello!” Danny flew past them, coming back into the fray. He dodged some rays that came out of nowhere and shot back another green blast of his own.

“What is he actually fighting?”

Jazz glanced at him and sighed. She took his hand and-

Oh. Oh.

What he initially thought was a green weird vortex was actually shaped like a person, and someone he actually recognized.

“Is that fucking Elvis Presley?”

Jazz laughed, letting go of his hand. Whatever she did made him able to properly see the ghost on his own, see how Elvis strung his guitar and somehow the notes became tangible and were very, very sharp.

He jumped out of the way of one of the notes.

“The fuck?”

“Welcome to my world,” she said with a little smirk. “And that’s not actually Elvis - apparently is an Elvis impersonator, the kind that marries people in Vegas.”

Okay, that was making some sense. It didn’t explain why the fuck a ghost could just… do that kind of stuff.

“Why-”

“If you don’t mind, Q&A can happen later.” Her smile turned nervous as they heard Danny scream and be knocked to the ground.

Jason could only agree. That fall seemed to hurt. In any case, Danny stood up in less than a second, blasting more of those green rays.

Jazz jumped in this time, screaming at her brother and asking him what he needed. Too slippery, Danny explained. If he tried to get closer to get a proper punch Elvis would just sing a song and knock him back.

“I need a distraction.”

“I can do that.” Jasmine nodded. “Lead the way, Danny-o.”

“I hate that so much.”

The siblings rushed to where the ghost was floating, amused with the interaction, and watching - he was watching Jason. The fucking guy knew about him and Jazz and thought that the whole thing was amusing.

“Eat this!” Jazz screamed as she started shooting, making a nuisance of herself and impossible to ignore.

She ran up to where not-Elvis was waiting for her, her shots not meant to hit the ghost but the floating notes surrounding him, knocking them away from the defense barrier. Danny jumped in once he saw his chance, hand ready to grab the ghost-

Elvis laughed, took a breath and opened his mouth. “At last~!”

The blast pushed the Fenton siblings back, Danny just barely in time to catch Jazz before she hit the ground.

“-my love has come along~”

Was that…?

“My lonely days are over and life is like a song~”

Etta James? Was the Elvis ghost seriously singing that?

Jason looked at where Jazz was wincing and trying to cover her ears. Right, his mouthpiece went over the ears and muffled some of the sound, so he wasn’t as affected. Danny was worse, barely able to stand up with the noise - Phantom had sensitive ears, they’ve come to learn in their investigation of what they thought was a metahuman.

He needed to help them.

Quickly, he ran to where Jazz was struggling to aim her gun with the horrible noise, and opened her left holster to steal one of her guns.

“Consider this payback!” he shouted at her, but she probably couldn’t hear him or read his lips with the mask in the way.

“My heart was wrapped up in clover~” Jason aimed at the ghost’s chest, not sure if it would actually work. “-the night I looked at-”

He took the shot. One, two, three times. The guns were different from what he was used to, but familiar enough to not skew his aim too much. It was more like a laser gun from a sci-fi TV series - but it did real damage.

Elvis screamed and grunted, knocked back a little by the shot. At least he stopped singing.

“Thanks,” Jazz breathed in relief. “You can keep that, for now.” She nodded at the weird ray gun in his hand.

He rolled his eyes at her words, not giving her the satisfaction at the call back to the mall fight, and nodded at her.

“Any pointers I need?”

“They heat up a little more than a normal gun, so space out the shots. No need to reload, or anything like that,” she glanced nervously at Danny, who recovered quickly and started blasting the ghost. “We don’t need to kill him, just tire him enough so he stays still for capture.”

“Got it.”

“And don’t stay in the same place too long - even if your core is not fully developed, ecto blasts will probably hurt you.”

That was something he wanted to follow up on later, but let it go for now. “Understood.”

Jazz breathed in, breathed out. “And don’t die.”

This made him chuckle. “Never try to.”

She rolled her eyes. “Could have fooled me.”

Before he could continue the banter, Jazz tensed and jumped back. Right where she had been standing a stray green blast hit the ground.

“DANNY.” She screamed in the general direction of the fight.

“Sorry~” The halfa singsonged as he flew by, dodging more of those music notes with ease. “It’s not my fault that you lovebirds chose this moment to-”

“Shield!”

He didn’t hesitate - Danny obeyed his sister and put up a green shield without looking, just in time to block incoming attacks that would have hit them all.

It was obvious that these two had fought together before. A team. There was an underlying trust between them, in the way that as soon as the attack stopped, Jazz jumped into action and slid from under the fading shield, guns at the ready.

Elvis didn’t expect that, eating a few blasts in the face.

“Why!?” He screamed. “Why are you guys getting in the way of love~!”

This time they were ready when the sonic blast hit - Jason knew when his turn was due, standing up and shooting at the ghost in the chest, now a bit more familiar with what he had to do with the gun.

“Not bad, sweetheart.” Jazz patted him in the arm and took a few shots of her own.

Danny lunged again, closing the distance with the ghost, arms ready to grab him and make him stand still. Elvis growled, strumming his acoustic guitar once again; but instead of notes, what appeared were staves, the five lines where usually the notes were placed in a music sheet.

The lines approached Danny faster than he could dodge them all, grabbing him by the arms and legs.

“Oh, no, I’m definitely not into that shit!”

He transformed his legs into a tail and managed to get it free, but the arms stayed tangled in the magical ghostly lines.

“Distract him.” Jazz gave Jason her gun and withdrew one of the knives she had on her vest, making a run for her brother.

Alright. He can be a nuisance.

Jason quickly grappled away into a more advantageous position where he had a clear sight of the ghost from behind. He aimed and shot, ready for the glare and the strumming of the guitar, for the sharp music notes and the strings of staves coming after him.

He jumped away, flipping and missing the attacks by inches, not having time to stop between the onslaughts. Ghosts didn’t tire of get out of breath, it seemed, because pretty quickly he had to make a jump and seek solace behind some brick structure on the rooftop only so he could take a breather.

“What the-”

One of the guns was making a beeping sound, the green light (leds?) on the side blinking slowly. It didn’t look good. He had to go back and ask Jazz what was wrong with it.

He took a peek and the ghost Elvis’ attention was back on the siblings, Danny now free and flying circles around the enemy, looking for a chance to strike that wasn’t reflected by a magical music note or parried with the guitar.

Jason carefully grappled back to the ground, seamlessly landing next to where Jazz was running behind the flying ghosts down the road.

“Hey, wanna switch?”

She glanced at him, doing a double take once she saw the beeping gun. “Throw that!”

He didn’t need to be told twice - without breaking his stride he hurled the thing as far as he could, in the direction of the fight, and watched as she threw her knife at it.

The explosion was bright, and loud, and now her wide eyes and panicked tone made sense. It also made sense why she carried so many guns.

“What-”

“Q&A later!”

Right. The fight.

Jason stopped just for a moment to pick up her knife, which got stuck on the concrete road, and followed her and the sounds of that horrible singing.

Soon it was obvious that the ghost wouldn’t stop and he was only playing with them, tiring them. Running around and shooting or throwing stuff at him didn’t get them anywhere, and Danny was being tossed to walls more easily, and recuperating a bit slower.

Jazz seemed to get to the same conclusion. She helped her brother up from the small crater he created when he landed after the latest sonic blast, telling him something via facial and hand gestures that Jason couldn’t follow.

Danny frowned but nodded, and was up in the air again.

“Hey.” She said once she turned to look at him, grabbing his hand and tugging on it. “Can you get me to that rooftop?”

He looked at where she was pointing and nodded. No sweat. He had done higher than that.

“Hop on, princess.”

She huffed but walked into his awaiting arms, looping her arms around his neck, and didn’t comment on the pet name or how his grip on her waist was a bit firmer than was necessary.

Even with the added weight his grapple gun could make the trip up to where she asked him to, and soon they were running to the other side of the roof and towards where Danny had cornered the ghost in a nearby alley.

“It’s over, dude. Surrender.”

Elvis stopped, carefully strumming some chords in his guitar, considering. If he knew they were watching from the roof, he didn’t show it.

“You can’t stop me, you can’t stop my work.”

“Dude, you are marrying complete strangers without their consent. That’s not cool at all.”

Jason watched as Jasmine quietly unlooped the giant rifle she still had on her back, kneeling so she could start preparing it. Was she going to use it? Part of him was excited, he was curious to see what kind of damage it could do, and why she had called it “Moral Support” - the name was badass as hell.

“They are not strangers, they have potential!” Elvis did a riff on his guitar, making a point. “They will have enough time to get to know each other! That’s what love is for!”

Jason winced. That was not how love worked, not that he had a lot of experience, but he had been painfully aware of every one of his brother’s and Bruce’s failed relationships.

(And his parents’.)

Just as quietly as she was assembling the gun, Jazz scoffed. She apparently shared his opinion.

Good.

Not that it was important, since they would not be married anymore after they caught the ghost.

(What a shame. This was fun. She was fun.)

“It doesn’t matter if you don’t agree, young King,” Jazz jumped and looked up from her work, eyes wild, “because what I started cannot be stopped. I cannot be stopped! I am cupid, the love god, and is my duty to-”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Get in the thermos.”

“Didn’t you hear? I am the love god!”

“And I’m Danny Phantom, now get in the thermos!”

Jazz rolled her eyes, the weapon in her hands now properly assembled once she pushed a button. It made a noise like it was charging up and she placed down on the floor, getting down in position. Jason couldn’t stop noticing how comfortable she looked, prone on the rooftop, with what he could guess was some kind of sniper rifle in her hands, waiting for her shot.

She had done this before. And she looked gorgeous.

A scream brought him out from his musings and he looked away from the sniping goddess to find the retreating figure of the Elvis ghost flying away faster than how he had flown as they fought him. Danny quickly followed, trying to slow him down.

He looked at Jazz again, how she tensed and relaxed, how she controlled her breathing and put her finger on the trigger.

“Stop breathing.”

It took a second to realize she was talking to him. He obeyed, holding his breath, waiting to see if she could make the shot. They were getting away, and fast, and whatever that big ass gun did couldn’t be good if she hit her brother by accident. It showed the amount of trust between them-

Jazz whistled, the piercing sound loud on his ears, and Danny moved away just in time to avoid the brightest laser Jason had ever seen. It was big, it made a noise like a firework as it soared through the sky, hitting the ghost right in his chest before he could make a shield or use his guitar to stop it.

Elvis trembled in the air as if shocked by a taser for a few seconds, his form flickering, unstable, before plummeting to the ground.

Jazz breathed in relief and stood back up.

“Good shot,” he couldn’t help but say. That was impressive. “That shit must have a recoil like crazy.”

“It really does,” she rolled her shoulder, “and it can only take one shot before having to recharge for a day. But it’s worth it.”

Just one shot, huh.

“What does it do?”

She made a face, quickly picking up the rifle and undoing her previous work. “It destabilized a ghost’s core. Momentarily.”

That didn’t sound good. It sounded dangerous, and by her somber expression, it was painful and cruel.

But it was the only thing that stopped that ghost.

“You did well.”

She looked at him funny, like she didn’t expect supporting words. “I know. Let’s go.”

Jazz looped the strap of the gun around her neck again and jumped into his arms without prompting. It felt good, natural, to have her close. Her touch was cold even through the layers of the suit, but it wasn’t uncomfortable; and the way her body perfectly fit with his, like it was meant to be there, was… nice.

Maybe it was the curse speaking, but that didn’t mean he didn’t like it.

In any case, he had to shelve those thoughts until he could unpack that underlying attraction, and maybe check if she was okay with it?

He quickly grappled them to where he saw the ghost fall, gently letting her down, and smiling when she said a quiet “thank you”, even if she couldn’t see it.

They found Danny smugly standing next to a green dome with the Elvis ghost sitting in it, defeated. His arms crossed over his chest and his lips in a pout, and his guitar broken at his side. However, his face lit up when he saw them land together.

“Oh, yes, my greatest match!”

Jazz didn’t find it funny. She immediately pointed a gun at the ghost.

“Undo it.”

He laughed. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” She placed her finger on the trigger. Jason appreciated the enthusiasm, but he wasn’t sure if the shot would bounce on the green shield.

Elvis chuckled, and stood - flew? Floated? - to an upwards position.

“Honey, a royal bond cannot be broken that easily.”

She froze. “A what?”

The ghost sighed, clasping his hands together with a wistful expression. “What was my surprise when I saw you two together at the mall. My greatest work! The Princess and a Knight, a match made in heaven.”

Jason saw the moment Jazz’s mind disconnected. He wasn’t following what was going on that well, but by Danny’s sudden ashen expression and how he tried to sneakily step away from his sister’s field of vision, he assumed something was up.

“You guys even did the rope ceremony on your own! It was destiny, I tell you. Destiny.” He turned to look at Jason now, his red eyes piercing. “The moment I saw you fight together I knew this would be my magnum opus.”

“Danny? What is he talking about?” She lowered her gun, but Danny froze like she was pointing it at him. “Princess? Royal bond?”

“Uh… I may have- I mean, I was gonna tell you when I visited, I promise, but stuff came up and then-”

“Danny.”

“I may have, uh, I am the Ghost King now?” He smiled nervously.

Jazz wasn’t smiling back.

---

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#danny phantom #batman dc #danny phantom fanfiction #jazz fenton #jasmine fenton #jason todd #jazz x jason #anger management ship #jazz/jason #dp x dc #dc x dp #batpham #cant help falling in love with you #dpxdc #DP/DC WEEK 2022

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ethicaltreatmentofcowplants · 7 months

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Truth was, even before Lou confirmed what they had already strongly suspected, Rory had been planning on catching up with the baby Vatore fanger. Grabbing a drink - or a kebab, more like. While they could respect a bloodsucker who was getting their fix from alternative sources, those Plasma Janes were rancid.

(And sure, they were big. They were bad. It could never be said of Rory that her bark was worse than her bite, because huh. But while she was wary of outsiders, prickly by default through habit and circumstance, she didn't believe in meanness for its own sake - particularly towards someone who had seemingly tried to extend a hand simply out of the goodness of her heart. All while knowing about Rory, about the Wildfangs, and what they represented.)

However with there being no need to convert this particular batling into an urn just yet, their options were limited to more nocturnal establishments. One of the duo, one was significantly more excited about the meetup than the other.

"This is actually happening? You're taking me out clubbing? Flameo, hotman! Let's paint this town red! Uh... not with blood, just to clarify." "Yeah so please don't take this personally, kid, but I'm not exactly afraid of you. You don't need to reassure me. That dress though..."

"You don't like it?" "Nah, it's fine, but - how do I put this delicately - this is a club, not high tea with the Fengs. You look like jailbai - just a little daytimey, that's all." "'Daytimey?' Not something used to describe me all that often. Isn't that ever so peculiar? Can simply not imagine why." (There's something begrudgingly endearing about this fanglette's self-aware cheesiness. Rory doesn't laugh at this cringe level, Dad Joke - yet still managing to be kind of funny - humour. But they want to.)

"This was in a wardrobe downstairs. Is it better?" "It's just asking for someone to spill a drink on it, but I'm guessing that you've dealt with worse stains than red wine before. Ghost Lady behind us approves at least." "Whooo! Vamp Girl! We're twinning!"*

*Upon closer inspection they were not twinning. But shh.

"So. Anyone here catch your eye?" "Do you mean like that lady's glow-in-the-dark dress?" "The fibre optic one, yeah, but that's not what I'm - don't some of your kind have an attraction ability? Like a honeypot or something?" "Honeypot? Oh no, vampires have never been associated with bees. Not that we mind them, of course! You may just have them confused with bats." (Rory reflects that sweet Plumbob, they have their work cut out for them tonight.)

"Oh, is this what you were talking about? Vampiric Allure? I'm not sure how well mine will work - Caleb's is ever so much stronger..." "Uh, yeah - I'd say it's working just fine, kid. Take a look at your audience."

Amelie was a little nonplussed at all the attention.

"Um, do I have plasma fruit between my fangs again?"

But she soon forgot about it, hit Level 3 on the dance floor and started to really get down.

It was hard to get decent photos of her in such a crowded place, even with big sister Lilith coincidentally nearby and helping out by commanding particularly annoying townies to leave.

tbc...

(also please let me know if you made it this far and spotted the ATLA reference okay bye)

#my sims #amelie vatore #sims 4 challenge #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 alphabet #alphabet legacy #sims 4 vampires #sims 4 werewolves #rory oaklow

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void-ink-studios · 1 year

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Incarnations AU - A Little Explored Kirby Power [Part 2]

Another day, another short. This time, a 2 parter! As promised, here’s part 2!

Characters: Kirby and Meta-Knight (prominently), Nightmare and Dark Matter (implied/referenced)

TW for this chapter: MAJOR themes of both emotional and physical abuse, as well as gaslighting.

Word Count: 2,500

Part 1 | Part 2 (You are here!)

Meta Knight knew it was a mistake to visit the Dream Fountain today. He knew it was a mistake, because it’s always a mistake. He loathed it, and the wand sticking out on top.

It was a shame, too. Because it was such a beautiful spot in the castle. If he could stand looking at it, he’d love to let Kirby explore it more than the little glimpse they got today. He could see the child rolling around in the soft grass, oohing and awing at the water that sparkled like starlight. It was like you stepped into another world, when you approached the Dream Fountain.

And yet, Meta Knight would rather attempt to eat his own mask, walk on hot coals, and poke holes in his wings with a red hot poker, all at the same time, than get anywhere near the Dream Fountain for any longer than necessary.

It wasn’t for anything specifically about the fountain, he agreed that it was beautiful. Stunning, even.

It was the ghost that haunted the fountain that kept him away. If there was a way to exorcise the Dream Fountain, he’d take Kirby on a picnic and marvel at the rainbow swirls of the water.

But, for the safety of Popstar, and the Galaxy at large, everything stays as it is right now. What haunted the Dream Fountain was not something to be dealt with, at least not right now. Just contained, until he could figure out what to do next. But, everyone was safe for the time being.

Although the collective safety of Popstar held little comfort when Meta Knights felt a presence latch onto his mind the second he steps too close. It’s all the in he needs.

He could feel it, waiting for him to fall asleep, so they could play their game. A game they’ve played for decades now. One that guaranteed to put him out of commission for the next week, at least.

He could feel it, getting ready as he tucked Kirby into bed that night. It circled his mind, like a vulture, waiting for an injured animal to just keel over and submit. He felt little prickles on the back of his neck and top of his head.

He almost wished Kirby would demand more bedtime stories, but the child needed their rest. He ran a hand through their fluffy hair, tucking them in for the night. He switched off the light, taking this lingering moment of peace to watch the child settle in the soft glow of the star lights hanging from the ceiling.

They will be okay tonight. Safe.

His own bed, however, wouldn’t see that kind of peace. Especially not tonight.

He nearly begged Captain Vul, Trident Knight, or even Sailor Dee if any of them needed help in the night shift tonight. The Captain had given him a stern look, reasserting that things will be fine and that Meta needed to rest. Trident and SD both also declined his offer, leaving the voice in his head to snicker at his efforts.

He tried to find something in his room to distract himself. Surely there must’ve been some paperwork to be done, some decree by the King that needed addressing, just something. Hell, he’d even reread one of his least favorite books if it could save him from sleep.

And yet, he felt his resolve failing him. His eye lids were so heavy, and his limbs felt like dead weight. Vul was right, he really needed his rest. He’d been working for nearly 36 hours straight, he needed sleep, he knew he did. He knew the voice knew this too.

The voice sprang its trap the second he closed his eyes.

“Welcome home, little bat,” the voice snickered. Meta hated how he felt so much smaller, so much more helpless. He was never small the way Kirby is now, but dear Void did he make him feel like he was. His beloved sword and mask were nowhere to be found, like they didn’t even exist.

He looked around, taking in his surroundings. He found himself on a platform, high above the abyss of space, no way off without walking along a narrow bridge of light. Rainbows fell off the edges like a waterfall. It’d be beautiful if not for the ominous presence looming over his back.

Meta didn’t look behind him. He wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“This isn’t home. It never was.”

The voice growled slightly. There was a small force pushing Meta forward. On shaky legs, he stepped onto the starry road. One foot in front of the other.

“That’s no way to talk to your elder, little bat.”

Meta didn’t dignify that with a response. No need to encourage this.

“So, little demon, have you snapped and killed the oaf of a king yet?”

Meta stopped walking at that. He could feel the smile growing behind him, almost like the teeth were touching the back of his neck. His ears flicked uneasily.

“No, no of course not. He is my friend.”

“Friend? That lazy imbecile is beneath you, fully at your mercy.”

“I am loyal to him, as he is loyal to me. You wouldn’t understand that word, loyalty.”

“Loyalty is how you end up made a fool of. What will that loyalty do for you when your little friends realize you’re a monster?”

“I am not a monster. That’s what you chose to call me. It doesn’t make it true.”

“You’re Voidborn, just like me. Just like us. You’re an Incarnation, just like the monsters you pretend to defend your pitiful little planet from.” Meta felt a clawed hand wrap around his shoulder. “You’re one of us, Meta Night.”

Meta shook his head, trying to banish the voice. “Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore.” His wing batted the hand away as he walked his tiny self across the road of stars, looking down into the void below.

“I’m an Incarnation, yes. But I am nothing like you. You, Dark Matter, Galacta Knight… you all hurt people. You laughed as people cried in terror. As people fell from lack of sleep to avoid you. You are all monsters.”

He felt more than heard the bellowing laugh rattle through his bones. He stole a glance up, the starry road coming to an end. His bare feet crunched against the cold, blue dust as he stepped onto a desolate moon. He looked up into the ever expanding reach of infinity. His home is out there somewhere.

“And what of you, little demon? I remember the pathetic little creature you were when we first met. How quickly you were ready to claw and bite and slash at any poor thing that got too close.”

Meta Knight kicked a rock along the edge of a crater, still not looking behind him.

“And I remember you making me that way by sewing distrust of my own body. Foolish as I was to trust you, I was still new. I forgive my younger self thinking I could believe a word you said to me. I am not a monster, not the one you wanted me to be.”

Meta kicked the rock, jumping a little as it skidded over an icy lake. He gazed out at the endless pool of crystals, how the stars twinkled on its surface.

“From what I heard, you nearly butchered a baby, in cold blood, little demon.”

Meta tensed at that.

“...How do you know about that?”

“It was right there, helpless to stop you, and you nearly cut it down with your sword. What would your King have to say about that, hmmm?”

“Answer the question. How did you know about that? You’re trapped, you don’t know any of what’s happening on Popstar.”

“I bear witness to all of your dreams, little bat. I know how you thought about butchering a helpless little babe. You were going to do it, if it didn’t start crying. I was almost so proud of you, my little monster.”

“S-Stop it… I wasn’t going to kill them, I-I wasn’t, I’m not-”

“Not like me, you’re right. You demanded an infant fight you. You called an infant a coward. You’re a monster alright. But also an utterly pathetic one.”

Meta stumbled on his words, shaking his head. He felt a push, knocking him down onto his knees to stare into the ice. He could see the glittering teeth in that awful smile leering over him. He felt a huff of breath trapped in a laugh against his neck.

“Butcher.”

He hesitated, and that was all he needed. A shadow, as tall and imposing as ever loomed over him. He could see it on the ice, how the figure leaned to hunch over him. The stars disappeared from the lake’s surface as shadowy tendrils wound their way up around Meta’s arms.

“Let go,” Meta demanded, tugging back with his quickly draining might. “Go away, you’re not real! Go away!”

“What would your little lackeys have to say if they saw the miserable little wretch you’re meant to be? A butcher in their happy little midst. Like they’d be able to stop an Incarnation.”

The tendrils tightened, pulling the struggling Knight down into nearly a bowing position.

“Come on, little bat, let me see those horrid little wings.”

Meta hissed as a set of boney hands harshly gripped the base of his wings, forcing them open. He flapped them furiously, trying to escape the freezing grasp holding him down. He could feel his mind slipping, defaulting back into that awful headspace, the one that froze and obeyed when he was held down like this.

“Isn’t this nice, little bat? This game we used to play? Remember how you’d beg for this just to not upset me? All I had to do was say one word, and you’d fall into place, like a little doll. Face it, Meta Night, you’re a tool. Meant to service better Incarnations. Now, stop struggling, and just-”

“Meba…?”

Meta Knight froze at the tiny little voice. He snapped his head up, looking around for its source. Where were they? Please, no, don’t be here, please!

“Hmmmm? Now, what is this?”

“You leave them alone! Don’t touch them!”

“Hush, little demon. Now, do my ears deceive me, or was that the child you tried to slay? Oh, my sweet, stupid Meta Night, you are pathetic. Are they a more powerful Incarnation you’re serving now? Or are you looking for your own tool, to pretend to be one of the higher beings?”

Meta hissed again, baring his fangs and scraping his feet to pull himself free. The hands on his wings tightened and yanked, hard.

“Come out, little one, come look at Meta Night, in his proper place. Let me get a good look, I’ll see where you belong as well.”

“Don’t you dare! Stay away from them, they’re just a child! Don’t touch them!”

Meta wrenched his hands free, growling and lashing out at the hands behind him. He whipped around, his face reflected in the awful grin

“There you are, little bat.”

Meta barely realized his mistake before a clawed hand wrapped around his throat. He stared, eyes wide, into the visor. He never did see what lies behind that glass. And if there was any justice in the Galaxy, he’d die not knowing.

“Get off of me!”

The grip tightened, pushing Meta back to the ground.

“Submit.”

He froze at that word, his limbs wanting to go limp. He tried to push through the struggle as best he could before he felt his head slam against the ice.

“Seems I must reteach your basic training, little bat.”

Meta made a sound, or at least tried to through the pain pounding the back of his head.

“You. Will. Submit.” Each word was punctuated by another bash to the back of his head, the last one managed to plunge his head through the sheet and into the water.

He felt water rush into his nose, the cold shock sinking into his skull along with the dull ache radiating from the back of his head.

Meta didn’t know how long he was under. 5 seconds. 30 seconds. 90 seconds. His lungs ached, burned, his wings thrashing to pull himself up.

He was pulled out by his throat, that smile glittering as he coughed up water and tried to breathe.

“Submit.”

He was plunged back into the water, and held there for another agonizingly long amount of time. His limbs were giving up on him, his wings the last part of his body still trying to fight. They hurt so much from how he grabbed and pulled them… they always did.

“Submit-”

Meta expected to go back into the water. Or to be hit again. Or to be manhandled by the towering Incarnation clamped around his throat.

He wasn’t expecting to be dropped unceremoniously onto the ice. He sat up as quickly as he could, scooting away as he watched the grin finally falter, bony hands gripping his head.

“What is this-”

The desolate moon started sprouting grass. Light green grass, soft grass, the kind on Popstar. Meta looked back, the icy pool melting into a gorgeous little lake, with Blippers and Flozos jumping and swimming.

The scream that not as much of a grin bellowed made Meta clamp his hands over his ears and close his eyes. In the muffled darkness, he felt warmth, first spilling over his back and aching wings before wrapping around his chest like an embrace.

He opened his eyes again, seeing Mount Dedede grow in the background, the castle standing proudly. He was propped against a tree, with an open book on the grass next to him.

And Nightmare was a crumpled heap in the grass.

“This isn’t over, Meta Night! You hear me? This isn’t over-”

The awful creature disappeared in a low rumble and thick purple smoke. In its place, Kirby stood, waving their hand at him. The poor boy looked tired as he waddled up the hill, sitting next to Meta.

“Are you ready to go home, little one?”

Kirby shook their head, leaning against Meta’s side.

“It’s okay, Meba… Sleep well.”

They nestled into his chest, and Meta couldn’t find it in him to mind. Instead, he wrapped them up in his arms, keeping them tucked close with his wing.

“Okay… sleep well, Kirby. Dream in color.”

He didn’t have a clear idea as to how his mind managed to fight back so aggressively against Nightmare this time. It hadn’t done that before, at least not that effectively.

Meta might’ve figured it out when he awoke the next morning with a very sleepy Kirby tucked into his arms. One who had definitely not been there when he went to bed the night before.

He pointedly ignored the sets of eyes peering through the crack in his door, deciding he’d deal with the nosey crew later. Instead, he readjusted, letting Kirby rest soundly on his chest as he ran gentle fingers through their fluffy hair.

#incarnations au #kirby #kirby gijinka #meta knight #kirby nightmare #nightmares #ptsd #metadad #fanfic

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crystalelemental · 10 months

Text

Sync Pair Retrospective - Fight Masters

One year ago, we got the surprise drops of Dojo Gloria and Sygna Suit Korrina, of all combinations, with the Water-type Urshifu and Marshadow respectively. These two showed up out of nowhere, and were considered really good at the time. So how do they hold up now?

Dojo Gloria Dojo Gloria came in as a Tech nuker whose main role was damage. Techs were a major focus of last year, and Gloria was just another in a long line of them that had absurd sync potential. The difference was, Gloria had like nothing in team support, because of her firepower. She didn't set up Zone, and she didn't provide effective debuffs for teammates to capitalize on, given that she's more inclined to just knock out whatever she hits. By all accounts, if Gloria were a striker, I don't think anyone would've bat an eye.

That said, as a damage dealer, Gloria was fairly innovative, pioneering things we still see applied to options today. Gloria was the first to introduce Recharging Strike, to recoup full gauge costs of her main move. She was the first to introduce the ability to debuff a stat per hit, rather than per action. She was the first of many that emphasized debuffing the combination of defense and speed, which became weirdly common after this point. She was the first to introduce the idea of no, I'm just always going to crit you. And of course, she's another pair with 2MP trainer move that reduces sync cooldown. A lot of things that became top tier skills started on Gloria.

Her main hangup was being primarily Water-type damage. Gloria was in a hyper-competitive type, that basically no one needed help with. Even with a powerful sync, powerful DPS, and a Max Move, Gloria just...wasn't a clear necessity. And in the intervening year, other Water-types have stepped up to improve on her skills, like C!Serena and SS Lysandre. Thankfully, Gloria did have backup, in the form of Close Combat and Iron Head. These were more valuable offensive types, but they also meant she required crit buffing. But she was, for a moment, one of the best Fighting-type damage dealers as well. And I feel like Fighting type is where she lives. Aura Cynthia complemented Gloria's needs perfectly, down to the Head Start effect and crit buffing, while capping her defenses and emphasizing DPS. Champion Hop overlapped a bit more with his debuffing, but also offered the coveted Fighting Zone and crit buffing that she needed. Strangely, Fighting damage was her big success.

To make matters even better, Limited CS was developed, emphasizing the need for multiple sync pairs of the same damage type. And wouldn't you know it, Gloria has three types she helps cover. What used to be odd coverage now gives her far more utility and relevance.

Even now, she continues to receive blessings, as we get this whole High Score event that emphasizes Water-type units this time, and Dojo Gloria is getting her grid expansion early. Unlike a lot of these top meta expansions, Gloria’s actually kinda does stuff. Not a ton, but Head Start 1 means she can fast-ramp entirely by herself, catching up to the one area that copycats like SS May and SS Silver were able to do naturally.

Over time, Gloria has gotten better. Her Water type damage hasn't missed a beat, providing tremendous damage potential, while her Fighting damage has soared with the introduction of the Fighting Zone pairs. Steel remains her weakest area, but a decent flinch rate with solid DPS is never a bad thing, and Max Moves can devastate CS. Truth be told, she's the sync pair I most regret skipping last year, and I’m really hoping it goes well this year.

Sygna Suit Korrina Korrina showed up as well, focused on Ghost-type damage. A relatively rare type, Korrina showed up with a very unique gimmick: Snatch, but with damage. Spectral Thief was a skill that stole a foe's buffs, then dealt damage, powering her up based on the foe not being buffed, and having an overwhelming Tech nuke with Rising Tide. Add in team-wide crit buffs, and Korrina was in business. Her only hangup was Spectral Thief having 3MP, and requiring Shadow Punch to gain a potential recharge.

Oh, and it can miss. Look, I’m not here to start calling out Korrina as bad. I’m well aware how much damage she can cause. But also her Spectral Thief can miss. And I feel like that invalidates the biggest reason to use it, that being...she checks Latias in Gauntlet. One of the most obnoxious fights is not actually checked by Korrina as well as someone like Grimsley, because her Snatch effect can completely miss. This is actually one of the factors that got me to skip her the first time around. The other being I hate her outfit and don’t care about Marshadow because Pokemon Company doesn’t use its mythic legends well at all and I am well past the age where something is cool just because it’s rare, so the combo didn’t do anything for me.

This is, of course, rather petty, as Korrina’s damage threshold is fantastic. Upon arrival, it was well accepted that she was better than Anni Lillie, thanks to much higher offensive pressure and better gauge management. Which admittedly kills me inside, they really did not do well with second anniversary, but I guess that’s just life. In fact, Korrina’s also gained a major blessing in recent meta shifts, as CS introduced the “Five Stats +3″ condition, which is something Korrina just blanks. She’s honestly never been more useful, given her gimmick.

If there’s any strike against her, it’s that she is no longer the most interesting damage dealer with built-in Snatch. Not even close. I’m sorry, SS Korrina does a good job, but have you seen SC Zinnia? AoE Snatch all at once that can never miss, puts up a shield to block further buffs to maintain her multipliers, AND has a 70% flinch rate? Come on, man. Even with all of this, a major flaw of Korrina, and all Snatch users, has always been the condition of “no stat buffs” being easily offset in CS by the foe just popping an X item. Korrina doesn’t work around that either, and with her lack of proper MPR and reliance on Shadow Punch, if the foe doesn’t play along, her damage can get seriously derailed, in ways worse than others in this role.

I admit to having a severe bias against SS Korrina. Surprise sync pairs are always supposed to be pretty exciting, but getting one that’s wildly off my preferred aesthetic, with a Pokemon I care nothing about, whose entire existence results in the fanbase using it as free fodder to shit on one of my favorite sync pairs, only for me to eventually get her months later and find out she’s actually horrifically flawed? It’s the kind of experience that embitters a person, and I find SS Korrina kinda stale as a result. She’s good, I know that intuitively, but I don’t respect her the way I do others. To me she’s a glorified Snatch bot with a shittier method of MPR, and if I wanted someone to really abuse the Five Stats +3 condition, I’d run Zinnia, who I like better, has a spectacular outfit, a wonderful partner, and is just way better at Korrina’s job. Sorry not sorry.

#sync pair retrospective #dojo gloria #sygna suit korrina

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