#Danny: no matter what you can’t tell Batman I’m here I know he doesn’t like Metas

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #63

Danny was on the run from the GIW after a raid gone wrong and his family and friends are dead. He’s 15 years old and a king to an entire realm and has no where to go. He remembers a promise he made to someone named Harleen Quinzel, if he’s ever in trouble to seek her out. They we’re cousins after all and while he knows she’s a reformed villain, she’s also the least likely person to rat him out to the GIW so he takes a gamble. Of course little to his knowledge the bats keep a close eye on Harley.

#dp x dc prompt #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny fenton #danny phantom #poor danny #The GIW did a bad again #GIW doing horrible dubious things #He was experimented on #Danny: no matter what you can’t tell Batman I’m here I know he doesn’t like Metas #Harley: oh he probably already knows they keep a pretty good eye on me #It’s Friday the 13th and I’m tired #I plan on playing my favorite horror game when I get home #what’s y’all’s favorite? Mine’s Eternal Darkness

[help-itrappedmyself]

Crimes and Punishments Part 2: Speedsters

Masterpost

“Why are we all here again?” The Flash asked Batman.  Batman just made a noise in response. Like a hmmph, that somehow insinuated that Flash should know the answer to that question. 

Robin hangs up the phone with this Danny person, and states that he should be arriving shortly. And he does, coming right through the window, gaping the whole way.

“Guys, I can’t thank you enough for hosting this meeting. And setting it up and everything, but mostly for hosting. Because my realm is slightly poisonous to you guys and because you’ve given me the chance to visit space! We’re in space right now, how awesome is that?! Can someone tell me all about this place later?” Danny rambles, as excited as Red said he would be. 

Red gives Bruce a smug look in response.

“You’re welcome, Danny.”

“Now that we’re all here.” Batman grunts and everyone starts taking seats around the table.

Danny sheepishly takes a seat at the middle seat facing the window. The three speedsters sit across from him, Bruce at one head and Nightwing on the other. Red sits next to Bruce and Danny, Robin sits next to Nightwing and Danny. Danny pulls out a few pieces of paper and a pen.

Once everyone is situated, Batman gestures to Danny. “You called this meeting, about some broken laws?”

Danny nodded solemnly, his aura becoming slightly darker and more oppressing. He faces Bruce, “Yes, I have on my council the ancients of time and speed.” He turns to the speedsters. “You have been accused of breaking Clockwork, the ancient of time’s, rules about interfering in the timestream. He has stated many instances that you have left your own time, changed the past, and changed the future. Unfortunately, in doing so you have also corrupted reality and interfered in more laws of my dimension in bringing back the dead.”

“I’m sorry, but who exactly are you to be the authority on time and speed and, what, the dead too? Who are you at all?” Flash asks.

“We were told you were King of an alternate dimension, how does our dimension affect yours at all?” Kid Flash asks.

“I’m not the authority for time and speed, those are members of my council. Clockwork has been bringing complaints to me about all of you for a long time, but it wasn’t until I started investigating the other matter-” He makes a gesture towards Red, who nods, “that I discovered that the main cause of these problems has been your meddling with reality. You have created cracks in reality, caused by the fracture in the space-time continuum, and these cracks opened your realm to mine, which is poisonous to yours by the way. Clockwork has been cleaning up your messes in the timestream, and now I have cleaned up the leaks, and there is patchwork being done on reality right now.” He checks the last few points on his paper, making marks for each correction being made.

“You have control over all of that?” Impulse blurts out.

“More like I have control over the people who control all of that. Mostly. I’m in charge of space!” Danny smiles wide, fangs out and aura glowing for a second. “Your main interference with Space is the fact that you broke holes into your dimension, but I’m not big on punishments. Speed, the one who gave you your powers, she said you’d met with her before?” Danny pauses and glances between the speedsters.

“We’ve met the Speedforce.” Flash states. “We don’t fully understand the Speedforce or how it works though.”

“Yeah, that would be her! Dani doesn’t take the time to explain anything, always places to be, you know? But, she presently doesn’t have any complaints. Which complicates matters for me. Clockwork is demanding that she take the gifts she gave you, your powers, but she is refusing.”

The speedsters, having tensed, all relaxed at that.

“But Clockwork demands reparations for all the damage you have caused, and all the work he has put in to correct your mistakes.” Danny shrugs in a what-can-you-do manner. “And you have each meddled in the timestream correct?”

They each confirm.

“Right. We’re going to have to come to an agreement on repercussions for your violation of time law and space law. Now, I can’t say for sure who did what, or how many times, and what damage in particular it caused, which means unless you want to fess up right now, you’re all going to receive equal punishments, on the assumption you each caused a third of the damage.”

“I did most of it.” Flash says immediately. “I was the first to get my powers, I didn’t know how to use them, or how badly messing with the timestream ends up until I did it multiple times.”

“But we all did it!” Kid Flash argues.

“I’m technically messing with the timestream right now.” Impulse mutters.

“You did it while learning too! At least you figured it out before creating something like Flashpoint.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Danny raises his voice over theirs as they start to argue. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” He rubs his head for a moment. “Now, mistakes are understandable, especially while learning new powers. So, in the future, new speedsters will be given leniency so long as you three take responsibility for teaching them the dangers and the rules. We will not punish those learning unfairly.”

The speedsters settle back down in their chairs.

“We can teach new speedsters.” Flash agrees.

“Wonderful! That burden is now part of your punishment.” Danny makes a note on his paper. “One of the main damages done, raising the dead in your alterations of the timeline, will at this point not be undone. From this moment on, everyone stays how they are. We don’t want to go around killing people for your mistakes.”

The speedsters start glancing at the Bats, not having known that was even an option.

“Thank you.” Red states on behalf of the speedsters. Danny nods.

“With that covered,” He looks back at his papers, shuffling through a few. “Clockwork has made an agreement with Dani, as punishment for abusing your powers they will be taken away-”

All the speedsters start to interject, but Danny lets out some eldritch features and lets his aura become more and more powerful and fear-inducing until they all cower back in their seats. Once they are quiet he continues.

“I have been informed that you are all heroes on this planet, so we have all agreed to call this community service. Based on how long you’ve been helping and a few other factors, we made this decision: you will each lose your powers for a total of two months, and then be placed on probation. If you continue to serve your community and use your powers for good, then we will have no further problems. If any of you mess with the timestream on purpose your powers will be revoked permanently. If it is an accident, your powers will be removed again temporarily, but for a time period yet to be determined, but that will be longer than two months. Do you understand?”

They all nod slowly, but the Kid Flash speaks up.

“What if they need us while our powers are gone? We do help, we have people counting on us, what if our teams need us?”

Danny gives him a smile. “The Bats, when I spoke to them about the situation earlier, were concerned about that as well. If you agree to this plan, and we agree to only take one of your powers away at a time, that way the other two can coordinate and help when needed.”

“Will I be sent back to my own timeline?” Impulse’s voice is small and quiet.

“No. Just like with the dead, what is done is done.” Danny makes sure to have eye contact with Impulse. “This agreement does mean you could never go back though, so if you did want to…” Danny trails off.

Impulse shakes his head.

“Okay then.” Danny checks his papers again. “Were there any more questions?”

He gives it a moment.

“Then I will take this agreement back to my people and make sure everything is set. Then we will need to set up a time frame for the removal periods. For now though, everything is done. Thank you so much for your cooperation!”

#batman #danny phantom #the flash #dpxdc #dcxdp #my writing #fanfiction #summoning game show #speedsters

[luxaofhesperides]

We Are Robins meeting to Signal apprehending Danny ; requested by @zylev-blog!

“Hey, Danny. How are you feeling?”

Danny gives Duke a tired smile, his head falling back against the wall. He’s sitting up today, which is good. It’s definitely an improvement from the many days Danny was unable to do much but lie down and grit his teeth through the pain as Duke checked on the gunshot wound. It’s a good thing Danny’s a meta with a healing factor, or nothing Duke could have done would have saved him.

As it is, the wound was severe enough to keep Danny vulnerable and unable to move on his own without making it worse. Though Duke has looked, he hasn’t had any luck in finding whoever did this to Danny. He hasn’t brought it up to the rest of the We Are Robin gang, but only because Danny only let him help if he kept it between the two of them.

What’s another secret? If it lets him stay close to Danny and make sure he’s healing well, then he’ll keep quiet and carry on the search by himself. He’s got plenty of practice in doing things on his own.

“Busy out there?” Danny asks as Duke sits down next to him, dropping his backpack onto the ground. 

“Yeah, it’s tough with the cops after us, but someone needs to help Gotham and with Batman gone…”

A pained expression crossed Danny’s face. Eyeing him carefully, Duke opened his backpack and pulled out a few protein bars and sports drinks for him. Once Danny takes them and began eating one, Duke takes out the first aid kit, always kept at the bottom of the backpack, and sets it in front of Danny.

The most he can do is offer supplies and company at this stage of Danny’s healing. He gets twitchy and tense when Duke tries to tend to his wound, and seems to have plenty of practice in patching himself up. 

He didn’t answer when Duke commented on it once, so Duke let the matter drop. 

Metas may have legal protection, but that doesn’t stop people from targeting them. Duke has no intention of pushing Danny into remembering unpleasant things while he’s already wounded, hiding out in the upper corner of an abandoned warehouse taken over by a group of homeless people. Most aren’t inside during the day, choosing instead to be out with the rest of the city, which leaves them alone. 

Duke keeps an eye on the ground floor of the warehouse, making sure no one comes in while Danny tends to his wound. When he peeks back, he can see that it’s much smaller than it was the night Duke found him, crawling down an alley with one hand clutching his side, tears slipping down his face. There had been so much blood that Duke was sure he had just stumbled upon someone dying and froze, horrified. 

And then a shout down the road prompted him to move, hauling Danny up and helping him into the warehouse to hide. 

For a normal person, if it didn’t kill them, the wound would still be raw and bleeding, larger than any gunshot wound he’s seen before. But Danny’s wound is closing up quickly, no longer bleeding, the edges a healing pink.

It doesn’t look like it’s going to scar, either. 

“Think it’ll be all healed up by the end of the week?”

Danny glances up, then continues covering it with new bandage, large enough to cover the entire wound. “Hopefully,” he says. “Then I’ll be out of your hair and can figure out a way to get home.”

“Your folks gonna look out for you?”

“Probably. I’m not planning on telling them, though, since they’ll get way too overprotective. The only reason they’re not tearing Gotham apart looking for me is because I came here with my godfather and he told them we’d be gone for two weeks. Can’t believe he tried to kill me on day one…”

“Your godfather tried to kill you?”

“Yeah. Not personally, or anything, but he definitely hired the guy who shot me. Though he also yelled at him for shooting me? Not sure what that’s about, but I never trusted the guy and he didn’t try to help me afterwards when I ran away, so. You know.”

Duke wants to have a conversation with Danny’s godfather. Maybe bring the other Robins along to make sure the message sinks in: Don’t touch Danny.

But Danny, acting so casual about his godfather trying to kill him, would be unhappy about it, and Duke would really rather be able to take care of him than be shut out for trying to take control of the situation.

“Shit, man, that sucks,” he offers, instead of prying for details so he can hunt down his godfather. “You want a hug or something? I can’t really do much else, but if it can make you feel better about all this…”

Danny brightens and shoves the first aid kit away, his shirt (one of Duke’s old ones he offered up to replace the bloodstained one) falling to cover the bandage. “Please. I would love a hug, dude, I don’t remember the last time I felt so lonely.”

Carefully, Duke wraps his arms around Danny, leaning back so Danny could relax fully and not worry about holding himself up. Danny sighs into the hug, going fully limp as he drops his forehead onto Duke’s shoulder.

“Thanks for this. And everything,” Danny says some time later. He doesn’t move to pull away, so Duke stays as he is, watching the weak sunlight slowly move across the warehouse as it spills in from dirty windows. 

“You don’t need to thank me. I mean, I’m a Robin.” He brings up a hand to tap a finger against the R embroidered into his jacket. “It’s what we’re here for.”

.

.

.

It’s been years since he saw Danny. After he was fully healed, Duke helped him get to city limits, watching as he boarded a bus and disappeared down the road, leaving his life just as suddenly as he entered it.

After spending so much time together, quiet hours of stillness just looking out for each other, his life feels emptier without Danny in it. He knew it wouldn’t last, that Danny would go home eventually, but it didn’t make the parting any easier.

Even now, as Signal, taking a break from going on missions with the Outsiders to spend some time with the Bats, his thoughts drift towards Danny, wondering if he’s alright. In his darker moments, he wonders if Danny’s godfather has tried to kill him again, if he’s succeeded. In calmer, happier moments, he remembers Danny’s quiet stories about his family, his town, all his dreams and hopes for the future, remembers the easy company and how Danny didn’t look at him with pity when talked about his parents, just quiet and contemplative. 

Sometimes, he can’t resist the urge to look him up, but there are so many Danny’s out there that he doesn’t know where to start. He never got Danny’s last name or learned when he came from.

It’s not like he can just ask the Bats for help finding a guy he knew for two weeks before he ever joined them. They’re all busy with their own missions, and definitely don’t have time for Duke’s reminiscing. 

“Just caught sight of the truck entering city limits,” Oracle says in his ear. “It’s heading towards the Coventry.”

“On it. Any movement from the mobs?”

“None yet. I expect this to change soon. Red Hood and Black Bat are patrolling nearby if you need backup.”

“Got it. Signal out.”

His comline shuts with a little click, and then he’s grappling over the roof tops, keeping an eye on the roads in search of the truck. He doesn’t have time to think of Danny anymore, not when a shipment of new, experimental weapons is passing through Gotham. Spoiler had heard a few whispers of it and Red Robin helped find more solid details; the mobs are all looking to take the shipment for themselves in an attempt to get the upper hand in the nonstop fight for control of Gotham’s streets. 

It’s passing through during the day, visible and a good move to keep from being ambushed at night, but it’s not enough to stop mobs hoping to take out their competition with new weapons. Duke enters the Coventry just as his comline beeps once and Oracle begins giving him specific directions, along with a brief description of what the truck looks like. 

Apparently, the weapons are being moved in a U-Haul rental truck. That is… certainly a Choice™ to make for moving weapons around the country.

He follows it from the rooftops, but nothing happens. The truck passes through the Coventry without incident and takes a turn that keeps it away from Crime Alley and the Bowery. It gets to the middle of East End then pulls to a stop in the parking lot of a diner. 

Two people get out and stretch, then head in to get something to eat.

It would be the perfect time for someone to break in. Duke pulls the light over himself, manipulating it to make him disappear from sight as he looks down from the edge of the rooftop, tense and prepared for anything.

He almost doesn’t see it at first. It’s just a flicker, a flash of color, a shift in the shadows across the street. But he does see it, even if he can’t find it again, and drops down from the roof, creeping towards the truck.

Duke waits, holding his breath, off to the side of the parking lot. 

A minute passes. And then a figure materializes out of thin air, floating right behind the truck. All Duke can see is white hair and a black body suit; they’re either a meta or an alien, but either way, Duke is ready to take them down.

The figure lifts their hands and a bolt of neon green energy hits the truck, melting the back and leaving a large hole that gives them direct access to the weapons. And then they shoot again, destroying the weapons.

“Phantom!” someone shouts, and the truck driver comes tearing out of the restaurant, a white gun in his hand. His companion follows, her gun also out, and the begin shooting. 

Phantom dodges the blasts, then vanishes from sight. He reappears behind them a moment later, tackling back of them into the side of the truck. 

“No you don’t!” Duke say, rushing forward as he pulls at the shadows around him then sends them racing towards Phantom, restraining them. The driver and his companion collapse onto the ground, groaning weakly, and Duke grits his teeth. “O, send someone to look after the people moving the weapons. Apprehending an attacker now.”

He doesn’t wait to hear a response, tightening the shadow’s grip on Phantom, who struggles fiercely.

“We can do this the hard way, or the easy way,” he says, pulling Phantom closer to him.

Phantom doesn’t answer. They just scream, the force of it making Duke fall back. His shadows dissipate, and Phantom flies up.

“Get back here!”

Duke gives chase, dropping in and out of shadows, throwing some at Phantom in the hopes of catching him again. But Phantom is fast and it takes all he has to keep up as they cross Gotham.

He thought Phantom was flying around blindly, but the way they move across the roofs and then through the streets are too confident, too focused to be anything other than someone with a destination in mind. But where? Where could they be going? If they’ve been in Gotham, then Duke would have heard of them.

A flying, powerful meta with a multitude of powers? Yeah, he would have known about them.

Phantom flies through a wall and Duke curses, going onto the roof and looking around, waiting to see them fly out. But they don’t and Duke finds a broken skylight to drop in from, landing on the support beams of the warehouse, well above the ground.

He knows the warehouse, he realizes suddenly. It’s the warehouse Danny hid in while he was healing. Duke hasn’t been back in years.

“Just listen to me, please,” a voice says behind him, and Duke tense, spinning around to face Phantom, floating just out of reaching distance. “Those weapons are dangerous. No one should have them, it’s why I had to destroy them. Please, you can’t let them get those weapons out.”

Duke stares. Something about Phantom is familiar. The shape of his face, maybe. His voice. Maybe it’s just because he’s in the warehouse again, with someone pleading for his help.

Maybe it’s all in his mind.

“Danny?”

Phantom flinches, floating back a few inches. “What— How—”

“What happened? Is it your godfather again?”

“My— Duke? Is that you?!”

He definitely shouldn’t be doing this, but Danny’s here. Danny’s here in front of him, needing help, and he doesn’t need the Signal. He needs Duke.

He pulls off his helmet and lifts his bare face to Danny.

“Oh,” Danny breathes. “Well. I guess I should have known you’d be a hero. Can you help me one last time?”

“Yeah, of course Danny. Tell me what you need.”

“Those weapons, they were first made to kill me and others like me. It’s a whole thing I don’t have time to explain. But they’ve been changed to affect humans, all types of people, as well. I can survive a few hits from those weapons, but for most people, it would kill them instantly. I need to destroy all of them and stop any further production before the rest of the world gets a hold of them.”

“That’s why you—”

“They have to be destroyed,” Danny says. “And the people making and selling them need to be stopped. I can’t do it on my own. I’ve tried, but…”

“I’ll help,” Duke says, “I’ll help. This is a big enough problem to bring the Outsiders into it. Or the Bats, but they like to stay in Gotham.”

Danny floats closer, looking painfully relieved. “Really? They’ll be able to put an end to this?”

Duke reaches for him. “Yeah. they can do it. I’ll make sure of it.”

Danny’s feet land on the support beam as his hand meets Duke’s. They balance above the rest of the warehouse, drinking in the sight of each other. Duke rubs his thumb over Danny’s knuckles in soothing circles and watches as the tension begins to fall away from Danny’s shoulders.

“Duke,” he whispers, “I’ve missed you—”

The door below is kicked open, and a gunshot rings out. 

Moving on instinct, Duke tackles Danny, wrapping him up in his arms as they fall off the support beam. They hit the ground hard, rolling a bit, and Duke tucks Danny into his chest, bodily protecting him.

“Narrows!” 

The Red Hood stands over him, menacing, a gun pointed at him. 

“Hood?” He loosens his grip on Danny. “What the hell was that for?” 

“Thought you needed back up. You chased after our guy and lost your helmet, I think I’m right to be a little worried about you. So, who’s this?” There’s a hard edge to his voice, and Duke realizes with a sinking heart that all anyone else sees is an aggressor, a meta who attacked a truck full of weapons, attacked two people, and had to be chased down by the Signal. Jason’s seeing a threat and acting accordingly, putting Duke’s safety first. 

And with his helmet off, identity clear, Danny’s even more dangerous now that he has this knowledge.

“I’m sorry,” Danny whispers to Duke. He doesn’t have time to ask for what? before Danny’s shooting another beam of green energy at Jason then taking off, flying through the roof and out of sight.

“Shit,” Jason mutters, straightening up from where he ducked to avoid being hit, then puts his gun away and kneels next to Duke. “You alright? Why’d you let him go? I thought you had him.”

“I’m fine. He’s not… He wasn’t going to hurt me. He just needed help.”

“Sure. And what are you not telling me?”

“I knew him. He’s a good person, but he’s been in danger for a long time. This was him trying to protect others from what he went through.”

Jason takes off the helmet and stares at him. Then he sighs and reaches a hand down to help Duke to his feet. “Alright,” he says, “Let’s head back to the truck. You have until then to convince me that they’re the problem, and if they are, then I’ll help you blow up more of their weapons.” He claps a hand on Duke’s shoulder, then pulls his helmet back on. “Grab your helmet. We’re wasting daylight, Narrows.”

There’s nothing else he can do, no way to search for Danny when there are other leads to chase, so Duke grapples up to the catwalk where his helmet landed and grabs it.

Just before he puts it on, he sees a flicker of white just outside the window he’s facing. He ducks his head to hide a smile. It’s almost like he’s stepped back in time; Danny’s here in Gotham, needing help and asking for it in the warehouse. 

And though so much has changed in those years, there’s still one thing that Duke will ensure never changes: he’s Danny’s hero. Above Robin, or Signal, or anything else, Duke is Danny’s hero.

This time, he has the power to actually help Danny. He’s going to make sure no one ever hurts Danny again.

“Let’s go,” he says, jumping back down to Jason, helmet on. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #dp x dc fanfic #prompt fill #my writing #gotta be honest i do Not know much abt the We Are Robin movement. have yet to read those comics.... #also this definitely deviated a bit from your prompt. sorry!! still hope i got the main things you wanted to see #duke being dannys hero is something so special to me... #also it is his parents selling weapons and blueprints and things to the giw which is then given to the military for new weapons #a truly terrible pipeline #duke and jason and whoever else joins will find the source of the weapons. break into the fenton home. and dannys just there eating toast #in his pjs like. um hi guys did u need something? (and staring at duke like DUDE HELLO WTF??) #a mess of a situation :) not gonna write it bc i know it would get away from me and get so long #thanks for the prompt!!

[ghostly-penumbra]

Trick or Treat

FFN Ao3

Warning for referenced bullying and implied suicide.

Many thanks to @moipale for being my beta in this!

Sidney hadn’t been sure about this whole ‘going to the city’ thing at first. Because, leaving Casper High? His haunt? Unthinkable!

But Danielle had insisted on him Trick-or-Treating with them, and Phantom had sworn to protect him for as long as his Mirror was outside locker 724, being carried around in Phantom’s Lair. Knowing the boy’s obsession, Sidney finally conceded.

“Hey, tone down your aura!” Phantom, dressed up as a cheap Master of Time, told him as they all walked down a poorly-lit street.

(And wasn’t it curious how Phantom knew about such a figure in the Zone’s myths when he preferred to spend his time in the living world?)

Sidney grumbled but focused on toning down the greyish glow emanating from him, while he walked with both feet touching the sidewalk.

“These modern candies better be boss.” He said, earning a snicker (as in laughter) from Danielle.

“Cheer up, Poindexter, don’t be a boomer!” She said, shoving some more cookies in her mouth. “Ou’ can’ny ‘r’ ‘mazin’!”

Sidney raised his eyebrows and looked at Phantom, but the halfa only shrugged while his friends (Sam dressed as a werewolf and Tucker as Batman) just chuckled.

“We will see…”

They arrived at a house, and a man opened the door for them.

“Trick or treat!” They chanted as one.

“Well, what do we have here? I know Batman and the werewolf, but what are you meant to be?”

“A street urchin.” Dani said shamelessly, holding out her plastic pumpkin with a toothy smile. “A cool one, though.”

The man blinked. “Alright then.” He gave her, Sam and Tucker their goods, and stopped with an inquisitive eyebrow at Phantom’s costume.

“I’m a ghost.” He said simply.

“Huh, can’t remember seeing one like that.”

“Don’t worry, he has seen you.”

“That’s cryptic. I don’t want to anger your god. Here.” And he poured a good part of his candy bowl on Phantom’s bag.

At last, he turned to Sidney.

“I’m a guy from the fifties.” Sidney said.

“Hm, I can’t be the judge of that. Dad! Come check this out!” The man yelled into his house.

“What!” Came back the yell from an elderly man, and the teens awkwardly looked at each other.

“Come check if this kid’s costume is legit! Says he’s a fifties kid.”

“The fifties? Well, I will be the one to judge that!”

“Yes, that’s why I called you.” The first man mumbled before his father appeared. “He’s painted in grey and all!”

“Grey painting doesn’t make a man, you know?” The older man said, finally reaching the entryway. “Well, where is he?” His gaze fell on Sidney, and the floor seemed to disappear from under him. He paled, and his mouth opened like a fish, unable to form a word.

“Dad?” His son asked.

Phantom moved smoothly to put Sidney behind him, not quite hiding him but giving the old boy a chance to do so himself, and to put a powerful barrier between him and the potential threat.

“Poindexter…” The old man breathed at last.

Not that he was much of a threat anymore. So much time had gone by, and yet Sidney would know this boy no matter what (like the fact that he wasn’t a boy anymore), even if he wasn’t smiling, sneering down at him whilst shoving him into his dark, cold locker.

“Hey there, Reggie.” He finally said, barely above a whisper, and looked him in the eye.

No matter how painful, how unfair, how cruel it had been, there was no denying that this man had been part of Sidney’s life, had left a deep, permanent mark that had set him on a path with no exit and no turn-back, the one in which Sidney reached his dead end.

Sidney had already accepted this. He was dead, that wouldn’t change, and, after having relived his tumultuous life on his own Lair in the Ghost Zone, when his mirror had been touched and he had been freed… he didn’t want to seek vengeance. He just wanted… to help kids like him, weak, awkward, dorky nerds that couldn’t count on the teachers to protect them.

(He had gotten it wrong the first time, but things had gotten better after.)

But now, seeing him once again after all this time… he didn’t know what he felt.

“You are… here…” Reggie choked out.

“Dad, are you okay? Do you need your pills?”

“I think we should leave…” Someone in Sidney’s group said, but for the life he of him he no longer had, he couldn’t tell who.

Because victim and abuser were not paying attention anymore, both immersed in memories of laughter and hollering and pain, the two sides of their violent coin.

Reggie gave a shaky step forward, using his son’s arm for support, and Sidney’s companions parted like the red sea, as if they could sense what he wanted.

A wrinkled hand tried to take hold of his arm, but it closed into a fist as it phased right through him, and Reggie broke down in sobs.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I did this to you. I pushed you so much over and over…” Danny moved as if to take him away, but he slowly held up a hand, unable to tear his gaze away from the man before him. “You didn’t deserve it… you didn’t deserve any of it… I’m so sorry…”

Sidney looked at his life’s bully with an unreadable expression.

“I know, Reggie. I know…”

#Danny Phantom #sidney poindexter #danny fenton #danielle fenton #dani fenton #ocs #bullying tw #suicide tw #just referenced though #ectober haunt #not gonna make the WHOLE month #but i did this #ghostly-scrypts #trick or treat #ectoberhaunt trick #ectoberhaunt treat #ectoberhaunt 2021

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children Ch. 8

What's this? An update! Massive thanks to my betas for helping me get through this chapter <3

In Which: A few answers are given to the family and Danny is rudely awoken

[Side note: If you wanna know the general ages of the batfam, its listed in the AO3 version. I also talk about katanas in the end notes ^-^]

AO3 | Prologue | 7 | [ 8 ] | 9 DAMIAN INFORMED TODD—and Drake when he arrived on his bike sometime later on—that the boy whose face is plastered across the monitor was neither a picture of himself nor of Father.

Drake took one glance at the monitor and sighed, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Just when I thought this day was getting better.”

“What, did that café on 5th finally let customers supersize their drink?”

“God that would be the dream, wouldn’t it?” Drake sighed wistfully. “Nah, but I did get a lead on where some of that stolen Cadmus tech might’ve ended up. I was gonna spend the night following up on it, but I guess we have to deal with,” he gestured to the monitor, “whatever this is.”

Todd leaned against the edge of the computer, arms crossed over the red bat insignia on his chest. “What are we dealing with this time, brat? A clone? An alternate universe counterpart? Magic shenanigans?”

Maybe. Perhaps. All of those were perfectly valid conclusions for the enigma that was Daniel James Fenton. (Why Fenton and not al Ghul? Or even Wayne?)

Damian, too, was a genetic experiment; a ‘test tube baby’ as Drake put it at times. Damian was born for greatness, created to be perfect. The perfect soldier. The perfect assassin. The perfect heir. Was this boy—Daniel—like him as well?

A failed one, then. Perhaps the precursor to Damian’s own existence. But that would not explain why the boy was allowed to exist for so long. His grandfather demanded perfection, especially from those of his own blood. If the boy was a failure, he would have been eliminated immediately, not sent to live with some eccentric scientists in the Midwest.

Damian was not naïve enough to think that his mother and grandfather did not keep secrets from him. On the contrary, he expected it. The League of Shadows dealt in secrets as often as it did in death. Certain information was worth its weight in gold, whether it was given or buried away.

But he could not help the sharp pang in his chest. A lightning strike, quick and electrifying at the notion that they kept secrets about their family from him.

His father’s face flashed in his mind. The shock turned into a slow, dawning horror. That flicker of light, of recognition, as he scrutinized the contents of the flash drive and cross-referenced it with a public database.

And grief.

Damian recognized the grief.

Alfred, too, nearly dropped his tray of fresh-baked cookies when he stepped in front of the monitor. His usual unflappable demeanor was momentarily broken at his father’s whispered “Sixteen years. Alfred— he’s sixteen years old.”

His father knew of the boy. He was allowed to know of Daniel when he was not allowed to know about Damian.

------

Grayson returned to the cave with a distinct lack of energy in his step. His mask dangled off the tips of his fingers, chin angled downwards and covered largely by his hand. For a split second, their eyes met. Grayson shifted his gaze away, scratching the back of his neck. Father told him, then. Damian wondered how much Father revealed to his favorite son.

Damian clucked his tongue and buried himself deeper into the chair, arms crossed and pointedly looking away. If it was not for his accursed ankle, he’d have headed out to the training ring to take his frustrations out on the dummies.

“Oh, thank god you’re here, Dickface. Damian’s completely out of it.”

Damian shot him a look. “Shut up, Todd.”

“Leave him alone, Jay. Is Tim back yet?”

Drake emerged from the changing room in a dark green shirt, a fresh cup of coffee in hand. He took one long sip before exhaling. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“O-kay…” He pressed his hands together, mouth thinned into a grim line. “Uh, hey Tim, glad to see you back safe. Bruce is coming down soon to explain some things.” He let out a deep sigh, carding a hand through his hair. “This kind of thing would probably be better with the girls around, but I—god, I don’t know.”

Todd raised an eyebrow. “Don’t know whether to call Steph and Cass in Hong Kong, or don’t know what’s going on?”

“Yes.”

------

When Father arrived, Pennyworth following dutifully behind him, it was with an aching slowness in his gait. His steps measured and precise, preternaturally quiet as he made his way to stand by Damian’s chair. Damian sat up straighter, shoulders squared and back an inch away from the backrest. The rest, even Todd, stood at attention; an ingrained habit among Robins and an amusing instinct even among the senior heroes of the Justice League when it came to facing the Batman.

His father kept a steady hand on Damian’s shoulder, and Damian, shamefully, leaned into the touch; his head inclined towards his father’s hand so much so that he could feel the ends of his hair being pushed up slightly as he brushed against his father’s forearm.

He spoke with his usual monotone, as if he was heading a Justice League meeting as opposed to unveiling the secrets surrounding that boy. He brought forward the few photos they obtained from the flash drive. “A few weeks ago, we were alerted of suspicious movement from the League of Shadows in Amity Park, Illinois. Their objectives are, as of now, unclear, though it appears to be tied to the death of Amity Park resident, Daniel Fenton.”

One photo was a standard ID picture people get for their driver’s license, the lighting deliberately horrible so that any attempt to look decent would always end in failure. Another photo was a little better; a candid scene of him chatting with two others his age, a Caucasian girl in gothic-style clothes and an African-American holding a sleek, but still very outdated PDA. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners, hand reaching up to his face to stifle a laugh. There were other photos like this, some candid, others posed. At the forefront of each, a boy that looked too much like his father, too much like Damian.

His father glanced at the photos. He shut his eyes and when he opened them again, he fixed them on some distant stalactite in the Cave. “Around six months ago, Daniel was pronounced dead in a vehicular accident. A body was present, but according to police reports, he was identified via his driver’s license as opposed to any kind of DNA profiling.” He leaned over Damian’s chair to pull up a profile of Masters. “Our source—Vladimir Masters, mayor of Amity and a friend of the Fenton family—indicated his belief that Daniel is actually alive. I am inclined to agree.”

“He’s your son, isn’t he,” Drake said, more of a statement than a question.

Father gave a curt nod. “I cannot say for certain until I can perform a DNA test, but I highly suspect that to be the case.”

“First the demon spawn, now this. Great.” Todd made a hand motion towards the screen. “You know, Bruce, not knowing you have a kid once might be a coincidence, but twice? How do you do that?”

“As of three hours ago, I was still under the impression that my son never made it to term.”

“What?”

“Over sixteen years ago I was involved in a mission that put Ra’s and I on the same side. During that time, Talia and I entered a relationship that resulted in a pregnancy. Though initially ecstatic, she eventually led me to believe she miscarried the child and pushed me away. For what ends, I do not know, but trust me Jason, if I knew—” He paused, the hand that was not on Damian’s shoulder curled into a tight fist.

Father pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why she hid it from me then doesn’t matter. Why Talia wants him back now is important. Judging from Daniel’s records, he was adopted into the Fenton family as an infant and has since lived a seemingly normal life as a civilian. His adoptive parents, Jack and Maddie Fenton, are brilliant scientists and engineers focused on the field of paranormal studies. Eccentricities aside, they have zero connections to the League of Assassins or any other concerning parties.”

“So why now?” Dick asked, shifting his concerned gaze from Bruce to the static picture of Danny’s tired smile. “Why, after all this time, decide that now would be the best time to recover him?”

------

Danny’s experienced plenty of rude awakenings before, but waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to avoid his kidnapper-slash-assassin-slash-biological-mom launching a surprise attack takes the fucking cake. He can’t believe he’s saying this, but thank god for all those late night ghost attacks that conditioned him to be a light sleeper. And, of course, the League’s insistence that everyone be in optimal condition regardless of how little sleep you actually got.

Danny kicked Talia off of him, ripping his blanket away before scrambling to his feet. Seriously, if the universe decided to spontaneously give him powers again, he’d really like an upgrade to his ghost senses, please and thank you. Something that works on humans and not just ghosts. Like spidey-senses. He’d really, really like some spidey-senses.

“Your reaction times have improved considerably,” Talia said.

He eyed the katana sheathed beside his bedroll. “Thanks. Who could have guessed that constantly challenging someone to a spar in the unholy hours of morning would make them paranoid to sleep too much? Really, how am I supposed to grow taller at this rate? ” If he could just get it--

She smiled, taking a step forward. “Prepare yourself.”

“Heh.” Danny stepped further away from Talia, keeping his back to the mouth of the cave. One hand stretched in front of him and the other, coated in a green light, was kept hidden behind his back. “Am I actually gonna get some answers today?”

“Let us make it interesting. Last 10 minutes against me and I shall tell you more about your brother.” Talia twirled her blade. “If you happen to draw blood, you may ask any one thing of me.”

“Anything?”

“Within reason.”

His face caught between a grimace and a smile. He’d rather be sleeping right now, but if he had to be awake, then he’d better make the most of it. “Deal.”

Talia’s smile dropped. She veered her body to the right, barely dodging the streak of bright green that whizzed from behind her. The ectoplasmic energy that surrounded the katana bled away as the handle connected with Danny’s outstretched hand.

She quickly glanced back at Danny’s bedding. Beside it lay an empty sheath. “You have telekinesis?”

He shrugged. “It comes and goes.” Yeah, no way was Danny gonna admit that seven-out-of-ten-times he forgot that he had telekinesis. Besides, that shit was hard to do when he wasn’t Phantom.

“A surprise attack from behind is a sound strategy, Daniel. Though it’ll take a lot more than that to harm me.”

Danny pointed to the side of his cheek. “Are you sure about that?”

Talia frowned. She reached up to her face. Her fingers brushed against her cheek and came away with a thin streak of blood.

Danny grinned, pointing his blade at his opponent. “First blood goes to me.”

------

Fact: most fights don’t last long. An average street fight could last anywhere between 25 to 40 seconds, and sword fights rarely last over a minute. Like Talia said, the goal of a fight was to end it with as few injuries to oneself as possible. Humans, even the most skilled ones, can rarely last long in a fight. Prolonged combat is suicide; it makes you tired, makes your muscles heavy. It’s nothing like what Hollywood would have you believe.

Even with Danny’s own enhanced stamina and Talia holding back, he couldn’t last a full ten-minute spar. If Talia didn’t finish him within twenty-five seconds, then he’d fall by his own human limitations.

But the goal wasn’t to spar continuously for ten minutes.

He only had to last that long.

Danny sprinted out of the cave. The sun barely peeked out of the horizon, a thin line of deep orange breaking apart the wide expanse of blue-black sky above. He couldn’t see shit; great news since that meant there’s a good chance Talia couldn’t either, but that doesn’t fix the fact that he can’t see.

Nearly stumbling on the ice, Danny veered to the left. The edges of the lake stopped at towering rocks twice Danny’s height, leaving little room for cover. Though if he remembered correctly, there should be a few crevices here and there to hide in.

“You’ll have to be faster than that, Daniel.”

Shit—

Danny stopped. He brought his sword up to parry Talia’s strike and twisted away, putting distance between them.

Well, so much for just avoiding her for 10 minutes.

He adjusted his grip, keeping his sword steady and eyes trained on Talia as they circled each other. Danny lunged with an overhead strike. Talia used one hand to block the downswing by gripping his wrists. She thrust her sword forward, the tip harshly poking Danny’s abdomen.

“Less than three minutes.” Talia let his wrist go, Danny’s arms slumping to his sides.

He sighed as he sheathed his sword. “Damn, I thought I’d last longer than that.”

“You made a good effort,” Talia assured him. “Putting as much distance between us at the beginning was a good strategy. You recognized the win conditions immediately and attempted a battle of attrition.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am very proud of you habibi, especially as you managed to draw first blood.”

A warmth grew in Danny’s stomach at the words, heating his cheeks. Sheepishly, he scratched the back of his head. “I wasn’t entirely sure that would work, honestly.”

“It was clever; half a second later and you might have even killed me. You are an al Ghul through and through” She brushed his hair out of his face. “What would you like as your prize, then?”

Danny’s heart clenched. He frowned, dropping his arm to his side. If I was such an al Ghul, then why didn’t you keep me? The question lodged itself in his throat, stifling his thoughts. It was something he’d been wondering for a while, actually, in the moments of solitude he had at the compound. Talia, during their training, would always remark at his potential. How talented he was, how adaptable he was, how much greater he would have been if he had been trained at a younger age.

Well then, why wasn’t he? Why did she give him up?

But each time he tried to ask, his tongue would turn to lead and the moment would pass, the question still left unsaid and simmering at the back of his mind. A Pandora’s Box that held none of the world’s evil but all of Danny’s possible shortcomings.

He could ask the question now.

He could.

He didn’t.

“Why did you take me?”

Talia tilted her head. “It is because you’re my son.”

“No. Not that. It has to be something more than that. You had sixteen years to come back for me—or, hell, you could have just never left me.” His breath hitched, fingers mussing his hair and hiding his eyes. “Why else did you take me?”

“It is true that there was more than one reason why we decided to retrieve you from Amity Park. One of which is because you are my son and an heir of the Demon’s Head.” Talia stilled. The dark skies of dawn made it impossible for him to read her. “The second reason was to protect you.”

“You kidnapped me…to protect me?”

“Knowledge of the ghosts of Amity have spread through the more insidious parts of the world. There are many out there who would pay exorbitant fees to study one of you or to use you.”

Use him? What did she mean by—

Oh.

Ghosts—Amity Park’s brand of ghosts—were a new element that the world had to contend with. Amity Park might have a crime rate of zero but that wasn’t the case everywhere else. Theft, assault, murder; the world was rampant with crimes and criminals clawing their way to the very top. Having ghosts, even ones with the most basic powerset, would be a huge advantage.

“There’s no way that would work,” Danny insisted. “Most ghosts just want to be left alone, and the ones that want to wreak havoc would never work with humans. The only reason they even work with halfas like me at times is because they still consider us as ghosts.”

“If my sources are to be believed, ghosts might not even get a choice.”

Danny’s blood curdled in his veins.

No.

Someone’s found a way to control ghosts.

#danny phantom #batman #danny phantom x batman crossover #dp fic #phantom children.txt

[jinmukangwrites]

@damianwayneweek Day 2 (6-14): Undercover | Sibling rivalry | Damian having a nice day

Warnings: Mentions of trafficking, threats, violence, attempted kidnapping, injuries, healthy doses of angst

Note: hahahahaha once again I'm begging you all to pretend I posted this when it's still the 14th somewhere in the world. Please enjoy.

---

Damian didn't mean to get caught. Honest. As annoying as it is, he understands that there are certain parts of their nightlife that have to be handled by an adult. Going undercover, for one, is usually something that's left to Grayson. It's easier for adults to blend into some things than it is for... well... Teenagers.

Children, as Grayson would say. Even though Damian is not a child.

Not that it matters, however. Grayson, for the past week, has been putting off their normal patrols to get insider information on a recent underground trafficking scheme. Grayson has been working hard to find the people responsible for this and get on the inside to find where the victims are being kept and Damian had respected that. He's kept to the sidelines and worked on other cases that don't require so much adult delicacy.

The only issue was that tonight he ended up getting bored. There wasn't anything for him to do, and that butler wasn't giving him any useful suggestions to fill his time. He wasn't allowed to patrol alone while Grayson was undercover, but escaping through his bedroom window in a dark hoodie was simple enough.

One thing leads to another. He ended up walking into an alleyway where a man was getting rather forceful with a drunk woman. Damian was jogging forward and calling him out on the disgusting behavior before he even realized he recognized the profile of the man.

Grayson turned from the woman with wide, horrified eyes, not moving a muscle even as the woman slipped from beside him and rushed back into the bar's side door.

"Shit," is all Grayson said before more people came out from the shadows, and Damian realizes he's just stumbled upon Grayson's undercover work.

Damian, for all of his training, has no idea what to do as he's suddenly grabbed by one of the newcomers. He's just witnessed Grayson in his undercover work... attempting to kidnap a woman... and he shouldn't be here.

"The fuck did this brat come from," the man grabbing Damian sneers.

Damian reacts instinctively now, slamming his elbow back into their gut. The man wheezes and weakens his hold. Damian then ducks under a new pair of arms making a mad grab for him and is sure to trip them over onto the cement ground as they stumble past.

A beefier man charges at Damian like a bull, and he prepares to retaliate... only for Grayson to grab him by his arm and shove Damian behind his back.

"Wait," Grayson gasps, bringing his free hand up in front of him. The man stops in his tracks, as do all the others. "It's my... brother."

"Your brother?" A woman scoffs, and Grayson gives her a hard look.

A mean looking man steps forward, glaring daggers at Grayson. "What's he doin' here Malone? Thought'chu said you weren't followed."

"I'm sorry," Grayson says, sounding panicked. Damian wants to jump out from behind Grayson and give these kidnappers a piece of his mind. There can't be more than seven of them. Damian can take them with his hands tied behind his back. Grayson must sense this, because he tightens his hold on his arm. "I thought he was at home."

"Well, he wasn't," the man snarls. "And now that bitch is probably in there telling the barkeep some guy got handsy with her."

Grayson shakes his head. "She isn't. I paid off the barkeep. If we calm down, I can go back in there and finish the job. Danny here won't say anything, he knows what we have to do to survive these streets. Right, Danny?"

Damian's lips thin, but he nods. Damian doesn't know why Richard is acting all frightful right now. Has he forgotten the legacy of Damian's father that he holds? He carries the name of Batman, yet here he is looking like a frightened animal in front of these low-lives. He wants to argue and take down these imbeciles... but if there's one thing he's learned while in his ever lengthening stay in Gotham, Grayson usually has a reason for everything he does. If he thinks they need to act like they're frightened, then Damian will humor him. For now.

The man looks down from Grayson and gives Damian a narrowed look. It lasts only a moment before he looks at the bar side-door and... smirks?

He looks back at Grayson, keeping that smirk. "Alright, Malone. I'll take you up on that offer. You get the bitch, and we'll take care of Danny."

A bad feeling settles in Damian's gut. The hand on his arm tightens even more, proof that Grayson has the same bad feeling. They don't have a chance to say anything about it, however, before the man strides forward and grabs Damian by his other arm; yanking him away from Grayson and towards the big man.

Grayson shoots them a murderous glare, but doesn't come to Damian's aid as the big man tightens both of his hands on Damian's biceps. His pointer fingers press just under his shoulders, and he swears his pinkies wrap close to Damian's elbows.

"Go on," the talkative man says, jerking his head to the door, showing his rotting teeth in a grin. "Get the bitch."

Grayson shoots a look Damian's way, then nods. "Okay," he says placidly. "Okay." He turns his back and starts towards the door.

Then, the man looks at another in their group and nods his head. The man's cheeks rise like a Cheshire cat before he starts towards Grayson, raising a fist.

"Grayson! Look out!" Damian shouts. Grayson, for his part, reacts immediately. He ducks under the blow and side steps his attacker.

However, that's all Damian sees before the man that has him in his grasp changes position quite suddenly so that Damian is practically hanging in his grasp—an arm the size of a log wrapped around his neck. Damian's hands fly to the arm and he attempts to kick his feet for purchase. His air is already cut off, and he curses himself for getting in a situation like this.

He stills, however, when something cold and metal is pressed against his head by the man's free hand. Through blurry eyes and choking gasps, he notices Grayson has gone still too.

"I knew you were fishy," the man from before cackled. "Grayson? That your real name?"

Grayson glares, but doesn't move.

"Here's what's gonna happen, you're gon let us do whatever we want wit'cha, and maybe we'll let the kid live after."

And just like that, Grayson is at the receiving end of a savage blow to his jaw from another member of the group. Grayson stumbles and clutches his jaw, but he doesn't fight back even as another jumps in and throws their own punch. Damian can already see blood dripping down his cheek from a cut in the skin.

He's hit again, and he continues to not fight back. Damian knows he'll take the beating, even though he can easily take them down. He won't risk the gun pressed against Damian's head. He won't risk the arm wrapped so right around Damian's neck it feels like he's breathing through a coffee straw.

A particularly savage punch has Grayson falling to the floor, scraping his hands, elbows, and knees on the rough and suspiciously wet asphalt. Damian growls and digs his nails into the arms of his captor, but they tighten the grip threateningly and his struggles are forced to come to a stop.

Pathetic. Idiotic. Childish. This is Damian's fault. Every blow that hits Grayson's body as punches are replaced by kicks might as well be dealt by Damian himself.

He argues with Grayson. Calls him out on not acting how his father would. He calls him incompetent, insignificant, idiotic... but some time these past few weeks the bite he means to carry with those words have turned fond.

He... He likes Grayson. He's the first person to show Damian unconditional kindness... other than his own mother. While being stuck here with him rather than his own father had, at first, been miserable and annoying... it's turned out to be... fun. For the first time in his life, he almost feels like a normal kid with Grayson here to lead him along the way.

Damian wonders at night if that's what his mother intended. Why she hasn't taken him back yet.

He doesn't mind it. He likes the time that he spends with Grayson now, even if he would never admit it. And here he is, helpless and unarmed as Grayson is being beaten to a bloody pulp all because Damian couldn't listen to instructions and snuck out when he shouldn't have.

For a moment, pure terror fills Damian's veins that he's most likely going to witness the death of Grayson tonight. If he tries to fight his captor, he'll get a bullet in his brain. If Grayson decides to fight back, then Damian would die anyways. Grayson wouldn't do that. He would rather die himself.

Another blow hits Grayson's body, and he lays on the ground and groans, unmoving for a worrying few seconds.

Then, the bar door slams open and the woman from before runs out with fire in her dark eyes. No one has a chance to do anything before she kicks the main guy in the jaw, sending him down to the floor with more force than any woman... or man... should have.

Damian doesn't question it. The rest of them are distracted by her sudden entrance, and Damian uses that to his advantage. He throws his hands up and grabs at his captor's distracted face and claws at his eyes. The man yowls and drops Damian, leaving Damian completely free to make his own attack. He easily disarms him and jumps onto his back, wrapping his own arms around the man's neck and squeezing as tightly as he can.

It's all over in a matter of seconds. The man falls unconscious in Damian's grasp, and the woman finishes taking out the others.

She was in on this whole thing too, Damian realizes as she rushes towards Grayson's still form and grabs his arm.

Grayson blinking slowly at her through already bruising eyes and whispering "Donna..." is all the proof Damian needs to confirm his suspicion.

"I got you, boy wonder," Donna says fondly. She helps him to his feet and wraps his arm firmly around her shoulders, helping him stand. She looks at Damian. "You got a way to get us out of here, squirt? The cops are gonna be on their way any minute."

"What-" Damian starts, then pauses. Shame fills his gut. "What about the mission?"

"It's fine," Grayson says with a pained strain in his voice. "They're low in the chain. Won't be missed in prison. Can't give much away. I'll-" he cuts off to gasp as Donna shifts her hold on him. "I'll just try again later."

Damian nods, but the guilt doesn't leave. He looks away from Grayson and Donna to pull out his phone and request Pennyworth send the Batmobile to their position.

The entire way back to the manor is filled with tense silence, broken only by Grayson's hissed curses and groans as Donna helps give immediate first aid to the worst of the bruises and cuts.

Damian... he messed up. He disobeyed Richard and ruined the mission. This woman, Donna, is a better companion to Grayson than Damian ever was. Or will be. They get along. She's kind. She was trusted enough by Grayson to bring her in on his solo mission, and she clearly trusted him enough to go along with it and let herself be captured.

Grayson will never trust him as much as her. He's... He's fucked it all up. He won't want Damian around anymore. He'll want to send him back to the League, and if his mother and grandfather don't take him then his suit and the name of Robin must surely now be forfeit.

Drake will take back the suit, and Damian will forever be left behind by the man he thought... He hoped...

Sitting by his bedside after assisting Pennyworth in dressing Grayson's wounds... he mulls these thoughts over in his head. Grayson is fast asleep, and Donna has retreated upstairs for a shower and dinner by Pennyworth's insistence.

Then, as he's considering leaving so he's not the first thing Grayson sees when he wakes up, a hand grabs hold onto his.

"Don't blame yourself," Grayson whispers, blinking through his puffed up and exhausted eyes. Damian wonders how long he's been sitting here with his thoughts and when Grayson started to awaken without him noticing. "You have the same look in your eyes... That B always did..."

Heat flairs behind Damian's eyelids. He bursts. "But this is my fault. If I hadn't gone out- if I had listened-"

Suddenly, his hand is jerked, and Damian is dragged onto the cot and into Grayson's arms. He attempts to fight the hold, but Grayson holds tight despite his injuries.

"Mistakes happen," Grayson says, "they always do. I will never give up on you, Dames. No matter how many you make. Trust me on that."

He sounds so very much in pain, but he's relentless in his hold. All Damian can do is stop his struggling and lay in Grayson's grasp. His brain studies the words said to him, and his heart wants to believe him. Guilt pools to his throat and he opens his mouth to let it out before he can stop himself.

"I'm sorry," he chokes. He doesn't know when he started to return the hold Grayson had him in. His hands are bunched in the material of Grayson's shirt.

Grayson shushes him. "It's okay," he says. "What's done is done, and we've learned. We're okay. I got you."

And perhaps it's the moment of weakness, but Damian can't help but believe him.

#damianwayneweek2021 #damian wayne #dick grayson #robin #nightwing #dc comics #jin writes #fanfiction #violence tw #kidnapping tw #held at gunpoint #guns tw #im just in the mood for batman!dick and robin!damian angst this week huh? #hopefully donna being here made sense lmao

[mischiefandspirits]

Doppelgänger (19/19)

Previously on Doppelgänger ~ Masterlist ~ Next time on Doppelgänger

Danny, Sam, and Tucker were just 14 when they took a look inside the portal Danny’s parents had built. From there, everything changed. They woke up with white hair, green skin, and powers they could learn to control. They were hybrids, halfas.

They were the hero Doppelgänger.

{Identity Crisis, Part 2}

Danny melted onto Valerie’s hoverboard with a sigh as she kissed him. She was kneeling between his legs with one of her arms braced next to his head to hold her weight off him while the hand of the other snuck under his shirt to stroke his side. His own hands were occupied with holding her close and running through her long curly hair.

They were hovering high above Amity, partially hidden within some low clouds. They’d been admiring the view and taking in the afternoon sun when they’d gotten a bit distracted.

Valerie chuckled into the kiss and pulled back. She gave his limp form a pleased look then ducked down to pepper his neck with kisses.

Of course, that was when his ghost sense went off.

I’m going to kill whoever it is, Danny thought as Valerie’s scanner started ringing and she pulled away.

“There’s a ghost right beneath us,” Valerie growled, glaring at the scanner before giving Danny an apologetic look.

“Well, I guess that’s what we get for mixing dates with patrol,” he chuckled with a shrug.

She glanced down. “It should be fine to leave it to Doppelgänger.”

He sat up to look down as well, his hair hiding the red shine in his eyes. He spotted a glowing laptop flying down a road.

Ugh, who let Technus out? He reached out for his partners, but neither responded. He looked around to be sure neither of them was in sight and said, “They don’t seem to be here. Should probably make sure the ghost doesn’t cause trouble before they can get here.”

“Yeah.” She pulled up her mask and he braced himself as she brought them down. “Sorry about this.”

“It’s fine, Val. Really.” Jazz is definitely going to kick his butt if she found out about this, though.

Valerie dropped him off in an alley before shooting off after the laptop.

Who let Technus out? Danny asked again as he transformed and flew after her.

Tech-Oh shoot! Tucker hissed. He’s why my laptop was running slow! He must have been stuck in my cache. My bad!

Well, that explains why he’s flying around inside a laptop.

Want some help? Sam asked.

Valerie’s already on the scene, Danny pointed out.

Right, I forgot you guys were on a date.

DON’T LET HER DESTROY MY LAPTOP! Tucker shouted.

Danny turned a corner to see Valerie trying to blast the laptop. We’ll try.

He tried to sneak around the fight so he could try to knock Technus out, but was distracted when Valerie got wrapped in the laptop’s cord.

“Red!” he shouted, shooting towards her to pull her free. He looked her over for injuries. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she huffed and shoved herself out of his grip as her board swung around to catch her.

“Well now, this is interesting.”

The two turned back to Technus just as the laptop stopped glowing and fell. Danny darted over to grab it before it could hit the ground, then looked around for the ghost.

“My scanner is only picking up you,” Valerie said and Danny checked the computer.

Wireless transfer complete.

“Ugh, he sent himself somewhere else,” Danny groaned.

“Well, you’re the one with technokinesis. I’ll leave you to it.”

“What?” He looked up to see Valerie turning away. “You’re leaving? Just like that?”

“I’ve got a date.”

“Well crud,” Danny muttered. He shoved the laptop into the fold and dove into the ground, flying as fast as he could back to the alley Valerie had left him in. Good news and bad news. Good news, our laptop’s fine and Val’s leaving. Bad news, we lost Technus and Val’s leaving him to us because we’ve got tech powers and she wants to continue our date.

The irony, Sam sighed.

I can’t leave right now. Kiran and I are right in the middle of a debate on which generation of Pokémon is the best, Tucker said.

Kiran? Danny asked, popping up in the alley and transforming back just before Valerie could come around the corner.

This really really cute freshman in the computer club. They’re a gamer who’s building their own PC, they’ve got the hottest smile, and I refuse to let Technus blow this for me!

An unimpressed feeling came from Sam. I’ll take care of Technus. Clearly, your love lives are more important.

“You okay?” Danny asked Valerie. Sorry, Sam. I can tell Val I need to go.

“Yeah, it’s a tech ghost so Doppelgänger’s taking care of it.”

No, it’s fine, Sam said. You’ve ducked out of dates for us plenty of times. You deserve some alone time. It wasn’t really you I was mad at.

“If you’re sure. What do you want to do now?” Danny asked, stepping up onto Val’s board.

I think my love life deserves more consideration than his, Tucker huffed. Since, you know, I DON’T HAVE ONE!

Valerie grabbed his waist and tugged him against her. “How about we find some privacy? We can head to my house since my dad’s working until midnight. We can cuddle and watch tv. I think there’s supposed to be an animated Batman marathon on.”

Danny tuned out his partners as he nodded. He shifted behind her and braced himself as she took off towards Elmerton. She flew up to her window and opened it, letting Danny climb through before slipping carefully in. She recalled her board and pulled down her mask.

The boy didn’t have a chance to react before she was scoping him up and setting him on her dresser so she could kiss him. Her hands slipped under his shirt and he tried to bring his own up, only to knock something off her dresser.

She snorted into the kiss and he mumbled, “Sorry,” as he wrapped his arms around her neck.

“Valerie?”

The two froze.

The door opened and Damon Gray poked his head inside. “I didn’t realize you were -”

Valerie jumped away from Danny while he squeaked and worked very hard not to turn invisible.

No matter how much he wanted to.

Valerie’s father looked at Valerie, then Danny, then Valerie’s suit.

“H-hey, Daddy. I thought you were supposed to be at work,” Valerie said nervously.

“I had a break so I came to grab something I’d forgotten. Fortunately.” He gave her a sharp look. “Get changed. We’re going to have a talk before I head back. Mr. Fenton, out.”

“Yessir.” Danny gave her a quick apologetic look before following Mr. Gray into the living area.

He froze when the man grabbed his shoulder. “I like you, Fenton. You’re a smart kid and you’ve got a good heart. However, if I ever catch you in my daughter’s room without my permission again, you will be reminded in a far more painful way than I’m doing now that I carry a loaded weapon for my job and I am trained to use it. Understand?”

“Yessir. Sorry, sir. I swear, we weren’t doing anything like, you know, that. We were just -”

“Out.”

“Yep, right, leaving!” Danny ran for the front door.

“And Danny,” Mr. Gray called before he could close it behind him. “I suggest you go straight home. I’ll be calling your parents as soon as I talk to Valerie.”

Danny flinched and nodded. “Right.”

As soon as he made it to the alley next to Valerie’s apartment building, he slumped against the wall and screamed into his hands. Then he transformed and headed home as slow as he could.

“We’re dead. We’re so dead. We’re going to spend the next decade in the Fenton Stockades,” he groaned. “We’re so dead! We’ll never see the light of day! Hold still you stupid bucket of bolts! Goodbye cruel world! Wait, why are we transformed? Val’s father walked in on us making out. Sucks to suck. Can we get a hand?” He checked his watch and shrugged, turning towards where Sam was fighting Technus at the boardwalk. “Sure, we’re dead as soon as we get home and Mom and Dad won’t be expecting us back for another half hour since they think we’d have to take the bus. Great, because he’s getting on our nerves.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m grounded for two weeks, Danny said. And I had to sit through mom giving me The Talk again.

Sounds like it sucks to be allo. Can’t relate, Sam said, setting aside the book she’d been reading and grabbing another.

And Jazz came in looking all stern to say that when she told us to spend the weekend having fun, she hadn’t meant that much fun.

Sam snorted.

We didn’t even do anything!

She looked over the passage on Chronos she’d found, but it didn’t have any new information.

Val texted to say her dad’s taking her phone. She’s grounded for a month and her dad’s taking her suit and all her gear.

Sam tossed the book aside. Wait, her dad found out?

We’d just gotten to her house so she was in her suit when he walked in.

She was in the suit when you guys were making out? Tucker interjected out of nowhere. Wait, is the suit kink a Fenton thing? Is that why -

Finish that thought and I’ll toss your laptop into the ghost zone, Danny hissed. Crud, Jazz just came in. She’s making me study with her to make sure I’m not talking to you guys. Talk later.

Bye Danny.

See you, Sam said and stood up. She grabbed the books she’d gathered and went to put them back on the shelves. So you’re done hanging out with Kiran then?

Camp’s over for the day, but we’re going to hang out again tomorrow, Tucker said. What are you up to?

Checking out the paranormal section at Skulk and Lurk. I was hoping they’d have some information on our clock ghost.

Aren’t we supposed to be avoiding ghosts?

Jazz isn’t the boss of me.

True. Want some help?

Are you dressed like your usual self?

Yes?

Pass.

Rude.

I love you, but I will not get kicked out of my favorite bookshop because you’ve decided your aesthetic is traffic light.

Aw, I love you too! Tucker cooed.

Tuning you out now.

Okay, bye, Sammy! Love you!

Sam made a gagging sound in her head as she started looking for new books to check. “Aren’t there any books in here about real ghosts?”

“Try the historical fantasy section.”

She looked over to see Ravage reading the description of a book. “What?”

“The historical fantasy section,” he said, gesturing half-heartedly to the side. “Found a book over there the other day that was about a ghost king. Sounded just like the real dude. The author seemed to understand death and ghosts better than most. Bit too cheerful, but it was an interesting read if you can push past it.”

“Do you remember the author?” Sam asked.

“Worth, or something. The book was King’s Coffin if that helps.”

“Thanks.”

“Whatever. You coming to poetry night?”

“If I can get away from my parents.”

“Good luck.”

“Whatever.”

She went over to the section and found the book Ravage had mentioned alongside a few others written by Regsit Worth: Acropolis of Elysium, Nocturnus, Dark Winds, and Carnivorous Garden.

She pulled King’s Coffin off and glanced over the description before flipping through the book. She skimmed through it and her eyes widened at the ghost’s description and the description of his downfall. She checked the Also By section and smirked when she saw a book titled Shadows of Time. She put Pariah's book back then grabbed the garden book and headed to the counter.

“Would you be able to order a book by this author?” she asked as the cashier rang her up.

The man shrugged and switched to a different register. He asked for the title and typed it in when she answered. “Another print isn’t due for a year or so, but our sister store in San Francisco has a few copies. I can have them send one over, but you’d have to pay shipping upfront.”

“That’s fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know, I think Jazz was onto something about having some weekends to ourselves,” Tucker said when they met up Monday morning. “I had fun at the camp and made great headway with Kiran. Trust me, we’ll be dating by Christmas.”

“Sure you will,” Sam teased. “I’ll admit, though, it wasn’t awful. I got this new book on a wicked plant monster ghost that could actually exist and I might have gotten a lead on our clock ghost. I won’t know until Thursday.”

“Glad you two had fun,” Danny pouted, his forehead pressed against his locker. “Val’s dad threatened to shoot me.”

“If it makes you feel any better, you can just phase through the bullet,” Tucker said, patting his back.

“He has ghost weapons now.”

“You right.”

“You could try not sneaking into girls’ bedrooms,” Sam suggested and Danny flushed.

“Don’t say it like that!”

“Hey, Danny.”

The trio turned to see Valerie walking up.

“Hey, Val. Sorry about Saturday.”

“Not your fault,” she sighed and hugged him. “We both didn’t think that through.”

“You didn’t get into too much trouble, right?”

“Just grounded like I said. I’m mostly just mad about my gear. Dad’s taking the suit into the lab and he’s going to give all the rest to your parents. I told him I didn’t get most of it from you, but I don’t know if he believed me.”

“Better them then Vlad,” Danny said with a shrug. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to get any of it back for you, though. They’ll probably be keeping better track of their gear after your dad talks to them.”

Which means it’s going to be hard to replace their thermoses if one gets damaged, great.

“That’s alright. My dad will be keeping an eye out now anyways.” She pulled back. “I should get going before I’m late.”

“Alright, see you at lunch.”

{The Fenton Menace}

Danny sighed as he scrubbed the lab’s counter. “Can’t I do this later?”

“It’s not as if you have anything else to do,” his mom said pointedly.

Maybe so, he thought, eyeing the gun his parents were working on. But I’d rather not get vaporized when that thing accidentally goes off.

When, not if. Danny knew his parents too well for that.

He went back to his scrubbing and his mom focused back on the gun.

A few moments later, Danny’s breath fogged in front of him and his eyes darted to the portal as a pirate kid and his skeleton parrot flew out and up through the ceiling.

Captain Kid is back, he told his partners. My parents are keeping on top of me so I can’t deal with him.

Headed your way, Tucker said.

I’ll come too. Mom’s trying to drag me to the hairdresser.

Have fun. Danny flinched as the gun went off, thankfully pointed away from him. “Can you guys work on something else while I’m down here, please?”

His dad pouted, but his mom put the gun away with a nod, frowning at the blast mark it had left.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #valerie gray #Doppelgänger au

[vcidgalpin]

Pack Mentality Pt 2

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Season 1 Masterlist

Word Count: 1904

A/N: Apologies are finally given, and common ground is found. Aka what happens between those who don’t go on the double date. Also why are the only gifs for this episode of Allison?!?

Warnings: Fluff lmao

  “You are a terrible bowler!” Stiles bursts as we descend the stairs, as if he’s been holding his words in all lunch.

“I know! I’m such an idiot,”

“It was like watching a car wreck. First it turns into the group date. Then out of nowhere comes that phrase-”

“Hanging out.” 

“You don’t hang out with a hot girl. It’s death. Once it’s hanging out, you might as well be her gay best friend. You and Danny can start hanging out.” I scoff.

“Gee, thanks guys.”

“No!” Stiles squeaks out, not able to stop his words coming out so fast. My eyes widened at how defensive he got. He clears his throat, “I mean. You’re not- bad looking. It’s just, you- Scott likes Allison and- God why do you always have to be here, I feel like I’m walking on eggshells all the time.” Ah there he is, the rude Stiles I knew and definitely didn’t miss.

“What, just because I’m a girl, you think I’m sensitive. And if this is you holding back on being rude to me, I would hate to know how horrible you actually can get.” A scowl remains on my face like a tattoo as we walk down the corridor. 

“How is this happening? I either nearly killed a bus driver or I didn’t. I ask Allison on a date, but now we’re just hanging out. I make first line, but the team captain wants to destroy me. And now? Now I’m gonna be late to work.” He rushes off, leaving me and Stiles behind.

“I’m sorry.” Stiles finally breaks the tense silence. I’m almost not sure I heard him correctly.

“I- Thank you,” Unsure of what to say, I turn to him, my face softening. “I’m sorry too.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I haven’t exactly been the nicest person to you either? Remember the night of the game?” Stiles nods. “I hate to admit it, but when we didn’t argue, I actually kind of enjoyed your company. I know we were sort of busy, all over the place looking for Scott, but it wasn’t half bad being around you.”

“Wow,” Stiles seems dumbfounded, clearly unable to articulate anything. “Never thought I’d hear that from you… You enjoyed my company, huh?” A smirk grows on his lips and I punch him in the arm.

“Shut up,”

---

  Scott had gone to Derek for help, even after mine and Stiles’ clear argument against him doing so.

“So what did he teach you? How to roll over? Beg? Give him your paw?” Scott clearly wasn’t up for Stiles’ jokes, so I lean forward so my head is in between the front seats.

“Did he tell you how to remember?” He nods, “And do you think we can trust him?” Another nod. I sigh before continuing, “Okay. Let’s do this.”

We pull up to the chain link fence that surrounds the school parking lot. Scott gets out the passenger side and approaches the fence. Me and Stiles follow him, and we move closer to the fence before Scott stops us.

“Just me. Someone needs to keep watch,” 

“Can’t one of us come? Do two people really need to keep watch,”

“I’m always the guy keeping watch. Why is it starting to feel like you’re Batman and I’m Robin? I don’t want to be Robin all the time.”

“Nobody is Batman or Robin any of the time.”

“Not even some of the time?”

“Just stay here. Both of you. And try not to kill each other, please?” He asks through gritted teeth. We slip back into the Jeep, and I play with the strings of my hoodie, bored. The car stays silent, and I think hard at what to say to break the thick atmosphere.

“Why do you like Lydia so much?” That’s not really what I wanted to talk about, but I realise that only after I’ve already said it. Lydia is one of the things I know we have in common, so it seems like fair ground to cover.

“Um… Cus she’s perfect, I guess. She’s beautiful and complicated, I don’t know. I just do.” Yeah, he doesn’t really seem to know her past her looks and how she wants others to see her.

“How much have you really talked to her?” Stiles seems to think hard about this, and comes out blank. He plays with his fingers, refusing to give me an answer, which gives away everything anyway. It goes quiet again, and I can’t think of anything to say this time. I watch his fingers as he fiddles with them, my mind drifting. Before I can follow wherever it was going, I hear him clear his throat. He is staring at me, squinting his eyes, as if he is analysing me. Heat fills my cheeks and I look down, playing with my own hands in my lap.

“What were you looking at?” Stiles asks, genuinely confused.

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter,” My voice barely raises above a whisper. ‘What is up with me today? Why is this boy that I basically hated until earlier affecting me so much?’

“Clearly you were looking at something,” He presses on, leaning closer to me. My breath catches in my throat at his proximity. I met his relentless gaze, making a solid effort to try and maintain eye contact, and not look elsewhere on his face. A beeping horn scares the crap out of me and the two of us headbutt one another. Rubbing my forehead, I look out the front window, seeing Scott flip up and over the fence. I get up and move to the back of the Jeep again, letting Scott get in. We speed off, Scott still huffing in panic.

“Did it work, did you remember?” Stiles asks, still flooring it out of there. Scott nods,

“I was there last night. And the blood- a lot of it was mine.”

“So you did attack him?”

“No, I saw glowing eyes that weren’t mine. They had to have been Derek’s. I think I was protecting the driver.”

“Why would Derek help you remember that he tried to kill the driver?” I ask, confused. Nothing was making sense.

“It’s gotta be a pack thing,” Stiles suggested, and then my mind suddenly caught up to me.

“Wait. This has happened to me before. The foggy memories, needing to go back to the place to remember, it happens when your alpha calls you out against your will,”

“Well. Terrifying as that is, that also means you aren’t a killer. And it also means-”

“I can go out with Allison,”

“I was going to say that you won’t kill us, but that works too.”

---

Scott, Allison, Lydia and Jackson all are out on their double date, or hang out or whatever, leaving me and Stiles to have to find something to do. We decide that we don’t have much to do except hang out with each other, so we head over to Stiles’ house. He shows me around downstairs, and then we go up and he shows me his room. I’ve never really been in a boys room before, his is cleaner than I would’ve predicted. He falls down onto his bed, while I remain near to the door, leaning on the frame. It feels weird being here after only just becoming friendly with the boy, so I get stuck in place. He props himself up on his elbows and tilts his head at me.

“You can sit down, you know,” I walked over, sitting next to him on his bed. Continuing to look around his room, I came across a corkboard, flooded with printed out articles and ripped out book pages about werewolves, wolfsbane- everything. 

“You really are a nerd, you know that?” I laugh at his slightly offended expression as he scrambles up to follow my gaze. “Hey! I’m just- passionate. What are you interested in, huh? You can’t call me a nerd and then not spill on your guilty pleasure hobbies.”

“I like running. Like track and stuff, I guess. I was pretty good before I got bullied off of my old team and moved here.” Stiles looks sad at my confession, so I try to make him laugh. I’m gonna regret saying this,

“I also really like Star Wars.” His mouth falls open and his eyes fill with a hint of something I can’t quite read. “What?”

“Are you kidding? I love Star Wars!” He points up to the shelf near to the bed, and low and behold, all the films are stacked together. “You wanna watch one?”

“Sure,” I agree, and Stiles gets up, grabbing ‘A New Hope’ and his laptop. He sits, with his back against his headboard, so I move to sit next to him.

---

  Blinking my eyes open, I hear soft sighs of breath coming from above my head, air gently blowing against the top. Going to stretch, I find that one of my arms is trapped under something heavy. Rubbing my eyes with my free arm, I start to adjust to the darkness of the room, the only light coming from a laptop screen. I slowly move my head and instantly go red at what I see. We had fallen asleep. I’d fallen asleep on his chest, with my arms wrapped around him. Trying to carefully pull my arm free, Stiles stirs. His slow movements suddenly jolt into spastic ones. He frees my arm sitting up quickly, and I can see the pink tint to his face under the glow of the screen.

“Sorry,” He finally mumbles out. He coughs, clearly his throat and turns to switch his lamp on, closing the laptop and moving it out of the way. Checking my phone, I show the time to the boy. Grabbing his own phone, he suddenly stiffens in place.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles shows a notification on his phone, ‘Garrison Meyers, age 56, has succumbed to his wounds’ an hour or so ago.

“Scott will be home from his date soon, I think you should tell him,”

“Do you want to come with me?”

“Can you just drop me off there, I think I’m gonna go to bed,” He nods and we get up, him grabbing his keys. As we head out, we run into the Sheriff. Clearly noticing mine and Stiles’ bed hair etc. he squints his eyes at us both.

“How long have you two been here?”

“A bit after school got out I guess. Anyway, I really need to go see Scott,”

“You are aware there is a countywide curfew, right?”

“Yeah, I am.” Stiles states, as if that means nothing to him. His dad just sighs, giving up. Before we leave he speaks up.

“Stiles, if you are going to have a girl round, could you please just, let me know first,” I nearly choke on my own tongue at this insinuation. Stiles starts blushing again and stammers for words,

“No- We- Dad we aren’t- It’s not-” The Sheriff just lifts his hand, dismissing whatever ‘excuse’ Stiles was going to come out with. We rush out the house, leaving some distance between the two of us, clearly still drowning in embarrassment. Stiles and I don’t really talk much in the car ride to Scott’s/mine. I thank him for the lift before hopping out and quietly sneaking into my house, hoping my parents don’t grill me on breaking the curfew.

Prev  Next

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles x y/n #stiles x reader #scott mccall #lydia martin #allison argent #teen wolf rewrite #teen wolf season 1 #teen wolf series

[wonderlandleighleigh]

TimKon or anything from the Tuna Melt-verse, which is fantastic, by the way.

Thank you!!! Here’s some unfinished Tuna Melt Fic. Maybe one day it’ll get done. It’s called “His Day in Court.” The Joker origin referenced is lifted from Batman: Streets of Gotham.

“Mister President.” 

Bartlet looks up from his desk and grins, before getting to his feet slowly. “Judge Walters.” 

As they shake hands, Jed marvels, not for the first time, at just how tall, and just how green Jennifer Walters is. She’s a beautiful woman. 

She’s just…

Well, she’s She-Hulk.

Well, she used to be She-Hulk.

Now she’s a United States federal judge.

Like Mendoza, getting Jenn appointed as a federal judge had been a nightmare. She’s green, she’s huge.

She’s hardcore leftwing.

“Please, have a seat,” he offers, gesturing towards the couches and chairs. 

Jenn nods, and does, settling into one of the chairs carefully,  always hyper-aware of her own body and its impact on the world around her. 

“I assume you know why I’ve asked you here,” he says, settling onto the couch next to her, clasping his hands in his lap. 

“I have a pretty good idea,” Jenn smirks, leaning back a little. “The Joker case?” 

Bartlet nods. “The Joker case. The prosecution is putting everything together, and I’ve been informed you’ve been chosen to preside.” 

Jenn doesn’t say anything for a long moment, watching the president carefully before speaking up. “Permission to speak my mind?” 

“Of course.” 

“This whole trial is bullshit,” she says. 

“It’s the law.” 

“It’s bull. Look, I believe in our justice system when it works the way it’s supposed to, but jesus, this isn’t a case of innocent until proven guilty, this is a case of the defendant boasting in a public forum about the very fact that he is guilty. He’s killed thousands of people. He’s maimed and mentally and emotionally scarred more. Why put the survivors and the families of the dead through this? And how the hell are we supposed to choose a grand jury? An enormous percentage of people in this country, and just about everybody on the East Coast has been affected, in some way, shape or form by the Joker.” 

“So you think we throw United States law out the window and just kill him?” Jed asks, lifting his eyebrows. “You don’t think that might look bad to the rest of the country? That they’ll start pointing fingers at whoever the hell, and asking why those people haven’t been offed too?” 

“I think the Joker is different,” Jenn says. “I think he’s this country’s modern day boogieman, and I don’t think he deserves a traditional trial. And anyways, it’s not out of the question that the Joker could die...other ways.” 

“Jennifer.” 

“Don’t you have the Red Hood on speed dial?” she asks, lifting an eyebrow. “Didn’t I hear that somewhere?” 

“Like that kid hasn’t been through enough,” Jed grumbles. “The last time somebody tried to take out the Joker because they thought it was the right thing, it ended in an office full of dead FBI agents and an attack on this White House. We do this the right way.” 

“The right way would have been lethal injection at Arkham twenty years ago,” she tells him. “Everything beyond that is just us cleaning up decades-old messes.”  

“Jennifer, are you saying we should find a different judge to preside over this case?” Jed asks, looking at her seriously. “Because what you’re telling me is that you cannot possibly be fair-” 

“I’m telling you there is no fair,” she interrupts him. “Mister President, the Joker has eschewed legal council. He’s defending himself, which means he will run around my courtroom like the damn lunatic he is before he gets bored and attempts to massacre everyone in it.” 

Bartlet closes his eyes and takes a breath before opening them again. “Jenn, all we can do is prepare for the worst. But we don’t have any other choice.” 

***** 

“It starts tomorrow, you know.” 

“Hm?” 

“The Joker trial,” Danny clarifies. 

Maggie nods as she steps past him and back into her cube. “And you’re pissed.” 

“A little.” 

“Because you’re not the one writing about it,” Maggie goes on. “Because there’s no way to be impartial when you thought he was gonna kill you.” 

“There’s not an impartial journalist in the world when it comes to this maniac,” Danny points out.

Maggie sits and looks up at him. “You can still go to the trial you know. Take a few days off. Head up to New York. You could even write an independent piece and farm it out to the Atlantic or whatever.” 

Danny shakes his head. “Not worth feeling that angry. How are you doing with all of this?” 

“I...have to be fine,” she says, blowing out a breath. “So I’m fine.” 

 “What are you working on? Anything good?” 

“Well…” 

He frowns, tilting his head. “What?” 

“I...it’s just...how does somebody like the Joker, become the Joker?” Maggie asks. “What drives a person so far over off the deep end that they become...that?” 

“Does it matter?” 

“Doesn’t it?” 

“So you’re looking into who the Joker really is,” Danny surmises. 

“I have some leads,” she admits. “The problem is that he’s killed so many people, it’s hard to figure out what was personal and what was just...his version of a good time.” 

“But you’ve got a hunch.” 

Maggie nods, looking troubled. “I have a hunch.” 

“Well?” 

She blows out a breath. “About five years ago, Joker cornered an aging Mob Boss named Guzzo.” 

“That guy was no joke,” Danny comments, pulling up a chair and taking a seat. “My mentor did a write-up about him back in the day. The stuff he did was almost as bad as the Joker. This was a few years ago, right?” 

“Right. So...Joker corners him on amusement mile and sics a pack of hungry hyenas on the guy,” Maggie says. “All that’s left are a few teeth, which is how they identified him. What’s confusing is that if you look at the interviews done of the for-hire goons back then, Joker and Guzzo didn’t know each other. And if you look at the way the city was split up before Guzzo died, Joker’s usual territory was as far away from Guzzo’s as he could get.” 

“Like he might have been avoiding the guy.” 

“Maybe…” 

“You think there’s a connection?” Danny asks. “Joker kills Guzzo for revenge?”  

“I think Guzzo hurt a lot of people over multiple decades,” Maggie tells him. “What if one of the people he hurt was Joker, before he was Joker?” 

“So you think Joker’s got a sob story.” 

“I think he was once something resembling a person,” Maggie corrects him. “And if you wanna take down a monster, you show the world its weak spots.” 

***** 

“Maybe you should come home for a few days.” 

Jason closes his eyes as he listens to his older brother over the phone. 

“All anybody is gonna be talking about down there is the trial,” Dick goes on. “Or hey! We could take a roadtrip! Load up the car with snacks and sodas and get outta town for a while.” 

“Dick.” 

“I don’t want you to be alone,” Dick admits. 

“I’m not.” 

“Fine. I don’t want you to be so far away from me that I can’t be there for you,” Dick adds. “And neither does Bruce.” 

“Is he testifying?” Jason asks. 

“Yeah,” Dicik confirms. “He’s showing up in full bat-gear and he’s testifying.” 

“That’s nuts,” Jason points out. “This whole -” 

“I know.” 

“Fucking - why can’t I just kill him?” 

“Because it won’t help you,” Dick says sadly. “Little Wing, just because the monster is gone, doesn’t mean the nightmare never happened.” 

Jason goes quiet. “I wanna go to the trial.” 

“Jay-” 

“I wanna go. At least to the first one.” 

Dick sighs sadly. “The last thing I want is for this to be the thing that breaks you. You’ve been doing so well...the job, and the girlfriend...you looked so happy at that wedding we all went to. What if going to that trial just sets you back.” 

“What if he hurts somebody?” Jason asks. “What if he takes down an entire courthouse full of people?” 

“Then it won’t be your fault,” Dick says gently. 

“One of us should be there every day of that trial,” Jason argues. 

“Maybe. But it shouldn’t be you.” 

“The hell it shouldn’t!” 

“Jay,” Dick says firmly, but worriedly. “Look, with what he did to Babs...I have a good excuse to be at the trial every day. I’ll go. I promise. But you need to stay home.” 

“You don’t get to-” 

“Jay.” 

Jason goes silent, and Dick can hear deep, heavy breaths. 

“I’ll be there every day,” he says. “I promise you, Little Wing. I’ll go every day. Whatever happens, I’ll be there to help stop it.” 

***** 

“You’ve reached the office of Jason Todd, Wayne Technologies Liaison to the White House. I will be out of the office until the end of the month. You can reach my fill-in, Luke Fox at the following number…” 

***** 

“He took the entire month off?” Leo asks, staring at Luke Fox, utterly bewildered. 

“He did,” Luke nods. 

“To do what?” Leo snaps. 

“Not go crazy,” Luke says simply. “This Joker thing has him fifty shades of fucked up, Leo.” 

“The DoD hate you more than they hate him,” Leo points out, relaxing a little. 

Luke chuckles and shrugs. “I know it freaks those old farts  out to have to deal with a black man who is younger, smarter and more attractive. That’s what makes it fun for me.” 

Leo sighs but grins wryly. “It’s gonna be a helluva month.” 

“Oh it definitely is,” Luke smirks back. “You want lunch? My treat?” 

"It’s hard to say no to that.” 

#The Tuna Melt-Verse #fic #au #Jason Todd #Maggie Rogers #OFC #West Wing Crossover #Anonymous

[bigskydreaming]

Why do You dislike Scott Snyder? I mean I have my reasons.. like a lot of the Court of Owls stuff, his convoluted plots, making Dick a punching bag for the broody bats, horrible at writing the family as a family he literally wrote Death of the Family I mean....*kill bill sirens* ... Also the ''son of a Damian'' line from Black Mirror etc. But I'm curious if you have more reasons since I'm pretty new and I'm told that he likes Dick and wanted to write Dick focused books and I don't.. buy it.

LOL yeah, all of that for sure, and I mean.....tbh, I don’t pay enough attention to his interviews and stuff to even be aware that he’s said that about liking Dick and wanting to write Dick-centric books, but I’m with you on that....not necessarily meaning anything.

God knows I’ve lost track of how many fic writers in this fandom swear up and down they love Dick Grayson and yet I avoid their stories with extreme energy, lmao, because I’ve read enough of their takes on DG that I’m like hmmm, yeah, we are not the same, lol. I mean, there’s a certain couple fic writers who just are like....DETERMINED to mention Danny Chase every single time I make a post about why I’m annoyed by the focus on Dick’s allegedly infamous temper. And its always the exact same song on repeat, they’re like “OH-HO, so apparently you don’t remember the time Dick choked Danny, a literal CHILD, just because Danny had the nerve to tell him Jason died, cuz like, I do, and it was AWFUL and Danny could have died TOO y’know, that’s how mad Dick was.” 

And then I just kinda stare at these words that apparently mean things, and enter a fugue state where an unknown amount of time passes and by the end of it I feel 80 million epochs older, and its like....no, I absolutely do remember that time when Dick grabbed Danny by the shirt and yelled in his face because he just found out his brother died and Danny said “what’s the big deal, its not like it doesn’t happen all the time” and this was absolutely not an awesome and fun scene for anyone, no matter how understandable Dick’s upset was at the time. BUT, I also happen to remember, since y’know, it was in that literal exact same issue, how then Dick went to see Bruce, and due to BRUCE’S upset about Jason’s death, Bruce literally punched his remaining son to the ground, screams about how it was all Dick’s fault, and kicks him out of the house Dick grew up in and tells him to leave his keys with Alfred. 

And its like......the very same people who LOVE to throw around references to Danny Chase in order to puff up the claims about Dick Grayson being volatile and extreme and having a Dangerous Temper like, flat out REFUSE to ever even ACKNOWLEDGE that scene with Dick and Bruce, from the literal exact same issue, because they at the same time claim that THIS was bad writing and OOC and Bruce would never.....but apparently, the writing from ten pages before it was just fine and completely accurate and Dick absolutely would not only ever, he would always, and thus Dick’s Legendary Dangerous Temper is canon and its why Dick can’t have nice things or people being nice to him in these writers’ stories, its too Dangerous, he might get mad I guess.

And each time this comes up on this site, I’m always like....hey, science side of tumblr, is it possible that insisting on vilifying Dick for his reaction to someone in the wake of Jason’s death whilst simultaneously refusing to acknowledge the scene of Bruce’s reaction to Dick is canon or in-character despite existing in the exact same issue and written by the exact same writer.....like....could this be one of those double standards I’m always going on about? And isn’t it in fact reasonable to question just how much or how little someone actually means it when they say they love a character but want that character flogged in the middle of the town square for a Bad Reaction to something that also prompted a Bad Reaction from another character but this character, they’ll like, throw themselves in front of a moving train if it keeps someone from daring to even suggest that THEIR reaction was canon and in-character and might potentially say something damning about their temper or behavior with friends or family?

*heaves endless sigh of endlessness*

Sorry, that example was right there on the tip of my brain today because like....I literally just saw another post around this oft-deceased and resurrected and killed to death again dead horse like, five minutes ago and then came to dip into my ask box for the first time today and it was like.....destiny. Assuming destiny has some free time to kill and nothing better to do, which, I mean, hey, everyone’s allowed a hobby is all I’m saying.

LOL sooooooooooo, ANYWHO, its just like.....ugh, I’m so over being expected to take at face value any writers, whether professional or fan, saying “oh but I love this character or that character, and due to that being my preface to everything else I say or do in regards to this character, you have zero basis for claiming that you do not like or trust my depiction of this character because ummm, read much? I literally JUST said, I love them though? Wow. Insert scoffs of incredulity here, I don’t even know how to talk to someone who thinks I don’t like a character I claimed I like just because literally everything else I say or do about them paints an opposing picture to the contrary.”

LMAO. Sorry. Had to get that off my chest. But yeah, like, I think EVERY canon Batfam writer has made a similar claim in recent years about pretty much every Batfam character, and at a certain point it starts to be like....okay, if all of you are telling the truth here, shouldn’t we see more canon evidence of like....these characters that you’re writing, like....actually even LIKING each other? At what point are we allowed to question the legitimacy of you saying oh I totes love this character, that’s why I write their family as abusing them, that’s just love, baby, that’s what it looks like.

Personally, I’d like to see more of us at least using qualifiers? I mean, I do say I don’t hate Tim, or Bruce, or any of these characters, but I get how people could be dubious about that and be all, umm, you rant about them a lot, because like...yeah. Fair. That’s a valid critique. SO its a lot more accurate for me to be like, I love 90s Tim and I just have become increasingly less enchanted with the character over the past twenty years since then, enough so that my knee-jerk reactionism to people bashing Dick’s character BECAUSE of what Dick did or didn’t do to Tim in their eyes, is like.....disinclined to view the situation or his character these days through 90s-Tim rose-colored glasses. 

Similarly, I truly don’t hate Bruce, at least not when he’s not being written as physically and emotionally abusive and/or just plain neglectful, BUT I absolutely despise the abuse apologism rampant in most fandoms, but particularly in this one, where people will make like Cirque-de-Soilei contortionists in order to prove that Bruce beating this kid or that kid isn’t actually abuse, its cuz they made him do it....rather than people just being like, no, that’s abuse right there on the page and I don’t stand for it or stan that Batman, so I have zero desire to defend that scene or his actions there from his perspective, and am totally fine with taking a seat when someone speaks up about how much they hate what Bruce did to his kid there in that scene and how it affects their read of the characters as a whole.

Its like....that too, is a thing you can do, instead of just.....trying to explain why Bruce isn’t abusive see, because what happened there wasn’t actually abuse, since it couldn’t have been, because Bruce isn’t abusive, see, he would Never.

And yet so rarely do people actually do that, and we have people literally championing themselves as members of the Good Dad Bruce Protection Squad when the frank reality is there CAN BE NO GUARANTEE of him ever and always being a Good Dad, when like....his characterization, ultimately, is dependent on how he’s written by canon writers who ARE NOT US. Which makes that desire to see him as just a good dad and nothing but a good dad always, like....not quite as understandable as it otherwise might be, and instead just kinda....willful, an admission that a lot of fans in this fandom will just flat out ignore all evidence to the contrary of this stated claim about what Bruce inherently IS, when inherently all he is happens to be a character who manifests whatever those in creative control of him choose to manifest via him. Like.....there are ways to go about that kinda thing, its just....that isn’t it. Something like “Proud member of the Keep Bruce Wayne a Good Dad Squad’ or something along those lines? I’d have ZERO issue with, because that’s ACTIONABLE, not WILLFUL. It posits not that Bruce simply IS this way and there’s no ifs, ands or buts about it, but rather that just because he isn’t this way in some instances, that doesn’t mean we have to agree with it or condone that interpretation of him, y’know?

But people are like....unwilling to make that distinction or hold that nuance a lot of the times, so my dislike of Bruce as he’s written in certain ways or by certain writers like....grows and evolves and mutates into Godzilla rampaging through downtown New York, until its understandable that people reading my blog intermittently and who don’t follow everything I say on the subject are like.....”Bold of you to claim you like lizards in this one post when I have here nine other posts where you’re just like, FEAR the murderous monster-lizard destroying New York for it is Dangerous and Fearsome. Cuz one of these things is not like the others, bud.”  

*Shrugs* Anyway, all of that’s just my allergy to Staying on Topic, so make of it what you will, hopefully you get what I mean though even if you don’t have like, the requisite Kalen-Garbled-Nonsense Secret Decoder Ring. Back to Snyder though....yeah, he can claim he likes Dick all he wants, because y’know what, Tynion says the same thing and its been well established by moi that my fondest wish for Tynion is that he be kept far, far away from Dick’s character whenever possible. And I’m pretty sure Tom King claims he loves all these characters and we’re all like HAHAHHAHA and we know Lobdell insists he loves Jason Todd and its like wow how curious then that hardly any other Jason Todd stans love you.

The ironic thing about my random bouts of ugh Snyder in a lot of posts however, is that......tbh, its not even his depiction of Dick that makes me dislike him as much as I do? LMAO. I mean, I’m not a fan of it personally, for a lot of the reasons you mentioned, but I don’t like a lot most canon writers’ depiction of Dick these days and haven’t for years. The thing I really dislike Snyder for, personally, is his depiction of Damian.

Its just.....its very Not Good, a lot of the time. Oh, there are moments here and there, but you could claim that for any writer, really, but for the most part, like.....ooof, I haven’t read Snyder’s work on Damian recently enough to really cite specific moments off the top of my head, because I’ve been avoiding anywhere he’s writing Damian for awhile now BECAUSE of it, but....a LOT of the ‘demon brat’ shit in regards to Damian comes from Snyder’s work, and like, I’m always kinda like “hey is making Demon anything the go-to nickname for a kid of Arab descent who is already compared to a terrorist enough as it is like....really the best we can do” to begin with, and Snyder absolutely 100% does not help with that.

To be fair, its not remotely like its all just on him, the stuff that has had a lot of us complaining for years about the blood son crap and the insistence on acting like there’s this stark divide between Bruce and Damian and the rest of the Bat siblings, I mean, see: Tom King again, its just. Ugh, okay, Im gonna have to get back to this in the near future with actually sourced gripes about why I think Snyder’s Damian in particular is absolute crap and could he just not, though. Because it really is my chief complaint with him, like I was never gonna be a fan of his in general just because he’s someone who's like DARK MULTIVERSE BATMAN FUCK YEAH and I’m someone who’s like DARK MULTIVERSE BATMAN UGH FUCK WHY.....lol....BUT like I mention in other posts.....its not like he’s incapable of doing decent stuff or that he’s never written anything I like, because ironically, he IS the biggest canon backer of Duke Thomas and pretty much single-handedly responsible for Duke retaining as much of a presence as he has in recent years instead of just appearing and blipping out of existence like a one-hit wonder, and that can’t be overlooked or considered inconsequential.

That just also kinda makes it all the more annoying that his Damian is so very.....objectionable to me, but yeah. Anyway, that’s the curious case of my very mixed feelings on Scott Snyder, with a side dish of generalized “lol oh, so you do in fact love this character? Well magically all my criticisms of your take on them have now disappeared!”

[help-itrappedmyself]

Danny punches a Clown Part 7

Masterpost

Danny wakes up some time later. Red and Agent A are there waiting for him in chairs on either side of his bed.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Less tired at least.” Danny was well enough he could feel his wounds trying to heal. “Could probably use some food though.”

“I will go retrieve it for you now that you are awake.” Agent A walks out of the med area.

“You feel up to meeting a few people? They’re going to be around so you should know who they are.”

“I guess so.” Danny sits up on the bed, bringing his knees to his chest.

Red leans out past the curtain and waves some people over. When he takes his seat, a man in a blue and black suit with a mask on and someone in an all-black suit with a head covering that comes down over his eyes comes in behind him. They stay standing by the curtain.

“You met Nightwing earlier, and this is Batman.” Red introduces. Nightwing waves when Red says his name. “We all work together here.”

Danny nods.

“Hey, Danny!”Dick comes over to sit in the chair on the other side of Danny’s bed. “We have a few questions that we would like to ask you if you’re feeling up for it.”

Danny shrugs.

“Okay, well we know you haven’t been in Gotham long, where did you come from?”

Danny wonders if he tells them a different dimension if they would believe him. If they would try to send him back. “Illinois.”

Nightwing let out a short whistle. “That’s a long way Danny.”Danny snorts at that. “Did you come here by yourself?”

“Yeah.” Danny starts picking at the edges of the blankets, trying not to look anyone in the eye- not that he could, they all have some form of mask on.

“Okay. Well, we have some concerns. Don’t know if you remember what you were talking about before you went to sleep, but you said some things about being shot at a lot, by your parents and some other people.”

“What part of that is a question?” Danny leans forward and rests his cheek on his knees, watching himself pick at the blanket. He found a loose thread that he’s started twirling around his fingers. 

“Can you tell us more about the people who were shooting at you? We’d like to look into them.”

Something in the tone Nightwing is using makes him sound all clinical. Like a social worker. Or a cop. It shouldn’t matter really because the people that did this to him are inaccessible unless they have some way to dimension hop. 

“Doesn’t matter anymore, I’m here now.”

“What made you come here? Do you have a family member, or friends that you were meeting?”

“For real, are you a social worker? Psychologist, cop, what.” Danny looks up at him. “You brought me to a cave f and you’re all wearing masks, but you’re talking to me like I’m going to freak out or something. You can stop acting like I’m a child. I know what’s happened to me. Frankly, the fact that I’m trapped in a cave with people dressed the way you are is more concerning for me than being back on the street. So can we get on with you doing whatever you’re going to do?”

“We’re not going to do anything Danny.” Red leans towards him. “We just want to make sure you have somewhere to go.”

“I don’t.” Danny states plainly. He knows his circumstances and he can’t risk going back home for a while, shouldn’t go back at all except to grab his stuff and leave again. 

The three share a few glances back and forth, having quite an in-depth silent conversation. Danny rolls his eyes and goes to stand up, they all immediately try and stop him.

“Whoa, what are you doing?” Nightwing asks.

“Where are you trying to go?” Comes from Red.  

“You’re injured, you should stay in bed.” Comes from Batman.

Just then, Agent A pushes aside the curtain, walking in with a tray.

“I do hope you aren’t overwhelming the patient.” He brings the tray over, Danny straightens his legs and A situates the tray in his lap. “This boy needs to eat, and to rest. You don’t need to worry about where he’s going until he is fit to be out of bed. He’s not going anywhere until he’s improved.”

“Sir, I’m sure it’ll be fine-” Danny starts.

“Nonsense. I will not stand for it. You need proper treatment or your wounds will get infected. Now, eat or your body will not have the necessary fuel to heal.”

Danny bows his head and looks at the tray in front of him. A brought him chicken noodle soup, he starts to eat as A shepherds everyone back out and closes the curtain behind them.

“Now, I know this cannot be easy for you, being injured and alone.” A comes to sit in the chair that Red vacated. “I assure you that you have a place here at least until you are better. Even if you wish to leave now, you will not be able to get better on the streets.”

 “Thank you.” Danny says. “I didn’t mean to snap at them.”

“I’m sure they will forgive you for it, you are under a lot of stress right now.”

Danny nods. “Thank you for the food. It’s amazing.”

“Of course, Mister Danny. I will be making sure you are well nourished while you are with us. Please, let me know if you have any preferences.”

“Anything that’s not alive is good for me.”

Agent A just looks at him. “You did mention something about fighting your food last night. I had thought you were talking out of a bit of delirium.”

“Oh, no that used to happen. The chemicals my parents used reanimated the food sometimes. Had to fight some hot dogs. A chicken. Our kitchen was a hazard.”

“I dare say so.” A has a very scrunched up look on his face. “Rest assured nothing of the sort has ever happened in my kitchen.”

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp crossover #batman #danny phantom #alternate universe #fanfiction #my writing #nightwing #red robin #agent a #Danny is very confused and overwhelmed #a lot is happening for him in a very short time #the batfamily is also very concerned #Honestly don't know how this turned into what it is #this was originally a one-shot #what happened #what have i gotten myself into #<- me @ like all of my writing #danny punches a clown

[gokinjeespot]

off the rack #1298

Monday, January 27, 2020

 It's the Year of the Rat man. I hope it's a happy one for you and yours. I had the pleasure of spending time with the newest member of the Jee Gang toting baby Ashton around while he took in the happy chaos at our Chinese New Year gathering yesterday. His wonder at the world makes it a happier place.

 Conan Serpent War #4 - Jim Zub (writer) Ig Guara & Vanesa R. Del Rey (art) Frank D'Armata & Jean-Francois Beaulieu (colours) VC's Travis Lanham (letters). This bizarre adventure teaming up Conan, Solomon Kane, Agnes and Moon Knight concludes with the demon Wyrm chopped up into fish food. This story won't matter to anyone other than fans of those four heroes but it sure was fun to read.

 Batman #87 - James Tynion IV (writer) Guillem March (art) Tomeu Morey (colours) Clayton Cowles (letters). I'm happy Catwoman and Cheshire are in this story. I love how Guillem March draws women. There are a lot of players in Gotham City right now so please pay attention as the mystery unfolds.

 Once & Future #6 - Kieron Gillen (writer) Dan Mora (art) Tamra Bonvillain (colours) Ed Dukeshire (letters). That's two fantasy stories that ends with the death of a serpent. Must be a common theme this week. One of the bad guys gets away and the story of Duncan and his Granny will continue. I don't know if I'll read the next arc since this one didn't conclude very well. I felt that Zombie King Arthur was defeated too easily.

 Detective Comics #1019 - Peter J. Tomasi (writer) Scott Godlewski (art) David Baron (colours) Rob Leigh (letters). And so the winter solstice passes and the mystery of the Nordic cult ends. I'm glad this story about a creature from the nether regions was short.

 Atlantis Attacks #1 - Greg Pak (writer) Ario Anindito (art) Rachelle Rosenberg (colours) VC's Joe Sabino (letters). I picked this off the rack to read because I wanted to see what Namor was up to these days. He's back being the angry ruler of Atlantis pissed off at the air breathers. This time he's mad at all of the Agents of Atlas. That Jimmy Woo sure hangs out with the weirdest heroes of the Marvel U. If you're a fan of all those Agents you'll want to add this 5-issue mini to your subscriptions.

 Year of the Villain: Hell Arisen #2 - James Tynion IV (writer) Steve Epting & Javier Fernandez (art) Nick Filardi (colours) Travis Lanham (letters). Cool. It looks like Lex Luthor is going to be the one to save the world this time. I like who he's asking for help. I'll give you a hint: har.

 The Amazing Spider-Man #38 - Nick Spencer (writer) Iban Coello (art) Brian Reber (colours) VC's Joe Caramagna (letters). Here's the latest twist to the life of Peter Parker: J. Jonah Jameson is helping Spider-Man now instead of vilifying the hero. Jonah is also working for a new media firm and the old fogey does not like what he sees. We're back to the Chameleon storyline where Peter and his spy sister Theresa are trying to get back all the S.H.I.E.L.D. tech that was stolen. All the dangling plot threads are starting to get annoying.

 Superman #19 - Brian Michael Bendis (writer) Ivan Reis (pencils) Joe Prado, Danny Miki, Julio Ferreira & Oclair Albert (inks) Alex Sinclair (colours) AndWorld Design (letters). I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop after Superman's big secret identity reveal. All of his Earthly super villains haven't taken advantage of the news so let's head out into space shall we? This is where Mongul attacks the new United Planets. The Superman versus Mongul fights have been epic and this new one won't disappoint.

 Fantastic Four #18 - Dan Slott (writer) Paco Medina, Francesco Manna & Carlos Magno (art) Erick Arciniega (colours) VC's Travis Lanham (letters). Now I get the point of this "Point of Origin" story. When Reed, Sue, Johnny and Ben launched all those years ago, the Overseer of the planet Spyre saw a threat to his perfect planet and shot cosmic rays at the ship to kill the FF. We know how that went off the rails. So now we have the Fantastic Four returning to Spyre and basically screwing up the whole planet like the Overseer foresaw. Hey, you don't mess with Destiny. I wonder why Reed is so pissed off in the next issue teaser.

 Batman Superman #6 - Joshua Williamson (writer) David Marquez (art) Alejandro Sanchez (colours) John J. Hill (letters). Well that was a whole lot of yakkity-yak. This issue takes place before Year of the Villain: Hell Arisen #1. Batman and Superman find Wonder Woman to tell her the bad news that Donna Troy has been infected by the Batman Who Laughs. Then they continue to try and find a cure for the infected. The issue ends with a surprise appearance of two super villains making the next issue a "must read" for me.

 Marauders #6 - Gerry Duggan (writer) Matteo Lolli & Mario Del Pennino (art) Erick Arciniega & Federico Blee (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). Kitty (call her Kate) saves the day but is sunk in the end. I've been ambivalent about reading this title of political intrigue and this issue made up my mind to bench this book. The subject matter is mature but the dialogue is juvenile so I'm outta here.

 Kill Lock #2 - Livio Ramondelli (story & art) Tom B. Long (letters). The search for the key to disable the Kill Lock continues. I care about the plight of these four condemned droids.

 The Old Guard: Force Multiplied #2 - Greg Rucka (writer) Leandro Fernandez (art) Daniela Miwa (colours) Jodi Wynne (letters). The team goes to rescue victims of human traffickers and get a surprise when they open the container. This book will blow you away.

 Guardians of the Galaxy #1 - Al Ewing (writer) Juann Cabal (art) Federico Blee (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). Call him Racoon, Rocket Racoon. Rocket's gone from looking like road kill in the last story arc to quite the fashion plate in this new run. And his guns have gotten a lot smaller. The team is recovering from the Universal Church of Truth massacre but their respite is short lived. Zeus and his Greek gods have returned and they're all evil now. You can tell because they're dressed in black. Nova asks the Guardians for help but only Starlord, Rocket, Moondragon and Phyla-Vell/Captain Marvel join the fray. I like that Marvel Boy is back and when the mission goes FUBAR, a surprise ally makes an appearance. The art alone makes this worth picking up off the rack.

 Basketful of Heads #4 - Joe Hill (writer) Leomacs (art) Dave Stewart (colours) Deron Bennett (letters). Poor June, she keeps meeting up with bad men. You can't blame a girl for defending herself. Now there are two heads in the basket. Basket head number three just introduced himself. This is just too weirdly fun.

 Ruins of Ravencroft: Dracula #1 - Frank Tieri (writer) Angel Unzueta (modern day art) Stefano Landini (flashback art) Rachelle Rosenberg (colours) VC's Travis Lanham (letters). This is the last of the one-shots leading into the 5-issue Ravencroft mini. It's going to have lots of Marvel heroes and villains if this issue is any indication. In the first few pages alone we have Man Wolf, Misty Knight, Mr. Fantastic, the Falcon, Power Man and Iron fist and the Winter Soldier who introduces the flashback where Captain America fights with Dracula. When we return to the present, new inmates are being incarcerated into the Ravencroft Institute for the Criminal Insane. I could only identify Mr. Hyde but I didn't recognise the others. The consultant hired to work with these inmates was a surprise and may entice you to pick up Ravencroft #1 when it hits the racks on January 29. Imagine if the Joker were hired to work at Arkham Asylum.

 Wonder Woman #750 - I read all 9 stories in this $9.99 US anniversary issue to see where Princess Diana was at right now. Nothing much has changed since I stopped reading her book regularly so I won't be picking up #751. I've read other comic books aimed at young female readers, the Unstoppable Wasp is a good example, but this one doesn't spark a renewed interest in me to follow Wonder Woman's adventures.

 Birds of Prey 100-Page Giant #1 - Now this is more like it. There are 3 new stories and 3 reprints that I've not read before so it's a great value at $4.99 US. The core team of Batgirl, Black Canary and Huntress are joined by Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, and Catwoman, all fabulous females ready for action. Almost makes me want to see the Birds of Prey movie that hits theatres Friday, February 7.

[featuristicfilm]

Movies of Fall/Winter 2019 (and 2020) that I’m really excited to see

With awards season kicking in, the movie release slate is about to bring us some incredible pieces of cinema. There are many films this year that sound fun, interesting, profound and promising so here is a shortened list of the ones that get me giddy with most anticipation. TOP 5 let’s go! (and a few honourable mentions)

5. Lucy in the Sky (Noah Hawley, December 6th, 2019, UK)

Randomly stumbling upon its trailer on Youtube, I was surprised as to why I haven’t heard anything about this film at all because it actually looks super intriguing. Even though the notion of a space movie can feel fairly worn-out, and there is only so much originality you can bring to that kind of concept, Lucy in the Sky looks like it’s going to be a completely shifted take on space dynamics and exploration. In fact, it seems it’s going to be a story fully centred around one character’s individual, self-reflective, very personal journey, with space acting only as a narrative device that creates the background, rather than it being at the forefront of the film’s events. Natalie Portman seems completely in her shoes in this trope of a study of a character who’s deeply damaged and emotionally transformed by whatever trials she undergoes. The trailer is put together so perfectly as well. It tells just enough information for us to understand what is the movie’s premise while also creating a dramatic and suspenseful energy. Also, to me the imagery feels very grounded and serious but also kind of weird, daring and eccentric in some shots, so if the creators managed to balance a kind of art-house approach with some epic, grandiose visual elements it is going to be one hell of a film. To be fair, I was kind of excited just ‘cause it’s Natalie Portman but the more I think about the story the more interesting and promising it sounds. Unfortunately, it comes out October 4th which means its going to have a biiiiit of a competitor in the box-office in the form of Joker.

4. Jojo Rabbit (Taika Waititi, January 3rd, 2020, UK)

This one exhibits several traits that make the film very enticing. First of all, of course, the subject matter. I think it’s fair to say that a little boy interacting with Adolf Hitler in the shape of an imaginary friend is as crazy and amusing an idea as it gets. And, of course, many of us have our understanding and reaction towards the people and events of the WW2 era but to have that portrayed in a comedy genre is definitely going to cast a whole new light on the subject, at least as seen on the big screen. This will most likely be a story exploring harsh realism through imagination and fantasy but also through the earnest and innocent eyes of a child and it will likely be a surprising take and not what anyone expects it to be. Due to many reasons, it is, obviously, going to be a widespread conversation piece and for that alone I have to see it. The other thing that perfectly complements the idea of this project, is the man himself, Taika Waititi. I don’t think a better combination between the material and the creator can emerge because it is hard to imagine someone else taking on such a bold proposition. He’s just the type of writer and director that is so unique in style and taste that you just believe anything he makes is going to turn out special in one way or another, and having creative will and freedom and integrity might be exactly what made this whole thing possible in the first place. Plus Waititi himself is playing Hitler which, I’d imagine, just raises the scale of humour and energy and dynamics of the whole piece. 

3. Jumanji: The Next Level (Jake Kasden, December 13th, 2019, UK)

I know, a not so popular of a choice. Compared to the way every other film is awaited based on their technical and creative merits, with this one I am so genuinely eager to experience the fun. After all the amusement Jumanji: Into the Jungle brought to the franchise, I don’t see why anybody wouldn’t be excited about this next instalment. I absolutely loved that film, it was so so so funny and entertaining! The story was really great because not only did it bring that fantasy and adventure aspect once again but also the way the avatar/game player narrative approach was incorporated was so unique. So, after seeing the trailers for this sequel, it sparked even more excitement to see how else can they possibly spin that concept. With that in mind, bringing in Danny DeVito and Danny Glover, well regarded comedic figures and over all talents, to the mix is genius. Them trapped in the bodies of Dwayne Johnson and Kevin Hart is, honestly, a hilarious thought and having old guys interact with the other teenage friends and deal with challenges in the desert, jungle, mountain tops will be no less than a thrilling journey. I think this is going to be just the right film to kind of step back from all the serious and deep dramas that will be in full motion for Oscar season at the time, and switch to some good-old light-hearted cinema. With holidays coming up during its release (December 13th) - nothing better than to go see a fun family movie. And if the playfulness and humour combined with the fond spirit of the story lands at least the same way as it did with the previous film, it’s going to win over people’s hearts and probably the box-office. Can’t wait to just fully enjoy the action and immerse myself in the wonder of this adventure all over again!

2. Joker (Todd Philips, October 4th, 2019, UK)

I have to admit, while initially I was very interested in this new iteration of Joker purely on a general movie-goer level, it was maintained and gradually piqued as time went on largely due to everyone talking about it so much. The sheer amount of hype and anticipation this announcement has managed to create is baffling. Every film coverage outlet, magazine, blog was discussing it. And maybe it’s just that I follow a lot of superhero genre loving people and maybe the idea of this film, in fact, doesn’t concern the general viewer as much, still it has kept many eagerly waiting. The thing that gives it an edge, though, is the fact that this is not simply going to be your general superhero action blockbuster but rather an intense psychological drama reflecting on certain societal issues applied to a familiar mythology. The character everyone knows as a rival to Batman here seems to be a troubled man, beaten down literally, as well as emotionally due to social injustice and his own mental complications. Therefore, this film will probably not rely on epic showdowns and comic tropes as much but actually will give the concept of an ‘origin story’ a different meaning. It’s exciting that DC took it upon themselves to make a bold and creatively charged version of their beloved character, and with Joaquin Phoenix as the lead and Todd Philips as director I think they can be confident about their vision. Whether it is going to be received well or not, that’s the question. While it did already receive heaps of acclaim, including the Golden Lion in the Venice Film Festival, the early audience reviews are quite widely mixed. Nonetheless, it is very intriguing. I have to say, it’s shaping out to be one of those films, and performances, in particular, that have the ability to stay in the minds of the viewers long after. Not long to wait now and we’ll finally see if it lives up to what it set out for. ‘Cause let me tell you, the standard’s high, for sure.

Knives Out (Rian Johnson, November 29th, 2019, UK)

For the longest, this film and Joker were up to par for the number one place on my list of the most awaited movies of the rest of year. Every trailer amped up the excitement so much more and, ultimately, when I felt that I could’t stop thinking about Knives Out, counting days ‘till it’s release, I knew which one has won me over. No surprise, though. I absolutely love whodunnits!!! There’s just a certain thrill to a mystery or a detective style film that cannot be found anywhere else. There’s always so much room for exploration of characters and narratives and the story can take so many directions. If a screenplay for a murder mystery is done right, and all the twists and turns are unexpected and smartly placed, it’s just the best. I also love the interactive aspect of it. Even though I know I can’t change the way it all plays out, I have the ability to have my own reasoning and conclusions that I can apply in my head as the events role out. So with this film I was instantly hooked. Chris Evans’ attachment to the project definitely helped me discover it, though. I’m a huge fan of his and I was curious already to see what kind of role he is about to take on next after the culmination of his journey as Captain America in the MCU. Since I find him to be a very intelligent actor, I think I can trust his judgement on what kind of material is interesting to explore and what kind of people are worth collaborating with. That in mind, this cast looks absolutely incredible! Some really experienced ‘veterans’ in Toni College, Jamie Lee Curtis, Christopher Plummer, a big big star Daniel Craig, as well as some less known but promising names such as Ana de Armas and Katherine Langford, for example. And that’s just to name a few… Wow. With the nature and genre of the story, given it’s a suspenseful mystery but with a comedic flare, a good ensemble of performers is crucial, as is their dynamic. Hopefully, writer/director Rian Johnson has managed to create a rich, powerful and unique film that will entertain and won’t disappoint. I do believe that will be the case, as that much talent on screen and behind the camera is usually a recipe for success.

If not for the short list… I have so many other films that have caught my attention and that will absolutely have me in the cinema seat on opening night. These include Bombshell whose team is worth an applause for that amazingly well put teaser trailer; Just Mercy, for a true story that will no doubt have an impact on me and for what seem to be astounding performances by the lead cast; and Marriage Story because it will make me cry… Stories about family, love and relationships always hit close home, this one might break my heart but there’s pain and joy in life all the time, I look forward to seeing the often difficult reality reflected on screen.

#featuristic #featuristic film #movie thoughts #films #movies #cinema #comedy #drama #mystery #action #superhero #entertainment #hollywood #oscars #award season #upcoming films #cast #director #lucy in the sky #jojo rabbit #jumanji: the next level #joker #knives out #long post

[tessatechaitea]

New Titans #113

In Dick Grayson's memories, Starfire and Cyborg were Christ figures while Aqualad spent 100% of his time trying to suck his own dick.

When my beloved cat Pelafina died a few months ago at eighteen years old, my eulogy was simply this: "She was the best gift I was ever given." And then the Non-Certified Spouse just sent me a picture of some Lobo socks that our friend Xan wants to give me and I just said, "Now Pelafina was the second best gift I was ever given!" Just in case anybody was wondering just how dedicated I am to my hyperbolic love of Lobo!

How do I show these off? Shorts while wearing long socks?! How gauche!

And just for comparison so you can truly understand the infinite limits of my hyperbolic nature which can declare those socks better than Pelafina, here is Pelafina for comparison. I am not responsible for your hearts melting.

I just ordered Koji Suzuki's Loop, the third novel in the Ring saga. Spiral was so fucking yo-yo bananas that I figured they could never make a movie of it. But I was wrong, being that I think like an American and no like a Japanese. Because they audaciously made a film of it (Rasen) and I watched it a few days ago. Inexplicably, the movie remains completely true to the book. I say "inexplicably" because this is the first time I completely expected a fuck-ton of changes to the premise and the plot. I naively thought, "There is no way they're going to make a film where the curse of the video tape jumps into the journal of the reporter from the first movie because it somehow senses the report will be a more virulent mode of transmission. But then almost immediately, the virus will be all, 'You know what? What if I infect this guy and have him fuck this chick? That means I could spread to her in a much more normal virus-y way!' And because that might make the entire premise of the Ring series less supernatural because now the virus has suddenly decided to spread like a normal virus instead of like some techno-virus spawned in the dank and smelly recesses of some 4channer's basement lair, the story will have to introduce a new twist! Now the virus won't just kill! It will cause the woman infected by the virus to give birth to a clone of themselves except possessed by Sadako, the woman who climbs out of the television in The Ring. Which is a premise no movie audience would ever be expected to swallow! Especially when the plot also asks you to believe the virus can clone anybody one Earth through the Sadako clone as long as you possess their DNA and understand in vitro fertilizaion! Oh, and also the clone is birthed at the exact age the person died? Or the sample was taken? I don't know, it's all so confusing that nobody would ever make that fucking movie." So, anyway, good for you, Japan! You did it! You win again! Seriously though. How is Loop going to be any crazier than Spiral?! I can't wait to find out! This issue begins with Dick Grayson helping to rebuild the Amazon village where Kory broke up with him. He's showing some emotional growth as he contemplates the naked chest of one of the villagers, Maria-Theresa. If you're now thinking, "That's an odd name for a native of the Amazon," have you done any reading on missionaries? Whenever anybody tells me all the good religion has done for the world, my entire rebuttal is the word "Missionaries!" screamed at the top of my lungs. I've finally decided to embrace the phrase, "Brevity is the soul of wit." Why should I have to explicate my missionary argument to another grown-ass adult who should understand the whole bullshit idea of spreading their religious dogma to other cultures? How does that help anybody?! Oh wait, I forgot. It lets Jesus collect more souls so he can stick his tongue out at the devil and say, "Nyah, nyah! Hallelujah! Amen!" Dick realizes that he's been a selfish child and constantly expected Kory's emotional support for his problems while always sighing and rolling his eyes at all of Kory's problems. Which might be a step up from his paternal role model who did all of those things but to a butler because he thought women were just for fucking. Is that a step up? At least Dick was trying not to treat all women as penis cozies? At least all non-red-headed women! I've lost my train of thought. Again.

Oh yeah! Dick was learning to forget about Kory through emotional growth and new boobies.

The rebuilding of the village ends with a big celebration after getting the cross on top of the rebuilt church. That makes me super sad. How many Amazonian Rain Forest Gods were displaced due to this incursion of Christian bullshit?! I hope they become super villains. Dick loves how quickly the villagers manage to rebuild the village without somebody taking control as leader. Maria tells him, "Yeah, dumbie. Is that the right word? 'Dumbie'? Anyway, we all know what we need to do and we do it without anybody standing back and judging our every movement like some dark controlling knight!" And Dick is all, "Yeah! I wish that would work with the Titans! But how can I trust Changeling to turn into the right creature without me telling him? And how can I make sure Cyborg will synchronize using his white noise cannon while saying 'Booyah'?! And I'm just supposed to trust that Raven won't rape and impregnate everybody we meet with her father's demon babies?! Pshaw! No way!" What I'm trying to say is that Dick hasn't really fucking learned anything. At least not yet! I'm still just a few pages into his journey! Dick takes a canoe down the Amazon while contemplating his life. I think maybe Maria slipped him some hallucinogens. Although most of his thoughts are on his friends and loved ones and how they've always been there for him and how he hopes he hasn't let them down and how maybe he should celebrate those who died as heroes while none of his thoughts are about how he's lived five thousand years or how that monkey keeps looking at him or how the number three seems to connect all of reality and explain the meaning of everything and why the fuck is that monkey still looking at him and have you ever wondered why you push pause on the remote to pause a show but then can push pause again to unpause it? Like, is it its own antonym?!

Seriously though. In 113 issues, did Dick ever lead the Titans into battle? Weren't the battles all just relatives and/or old villains attacking the Titans directly, without any say from Dick? Also, I kept in the Starfire side boob for you perverts.

Dick eventually blames his self-absorption for why he was raped by Mirage. He blames himself for not realizing he was with another woman who just happened to be able to shape herself like any woman. I guess maybe when she was all, "I'm going to put this strap-on straight up your asshole, okay?" he could have wondered why Kory didn't realize she was shoving the bat-grapple gun up his ass. So, yeah, maybe it was kind of his fault. I don't think I'm victim blaming when I'm just shrugging my shoulders and letting the stupid victim blame his stupid self. Some son of the world's greatest detective he turned out to be! He couldn't even tell his dick was in the wrong vagina! Dick's navel gazing causes him to plummet off of a waterfall which pretty much sums up his entire situation over the last hundred or so issues. I'm not sure if Marv Wolfman meant for it to be the case but I guess I have to assume that he did, no matter how much I don't want to. Oh, also, he doesn't die. He just has a revelation as he falls that maybe he didn't cause Jericho's death or Terra's death or Cyborg's death or Kole's death or Danny Chase's death or whatever other Titan deaths I'm forgetting since there have been so many. Also maybe Kole didn't die. She might just have been super boring. At the end of Dick's journey, the Narrator declares, "Dick Grayson was once The Boy Wonder. But today he has become a man!" Maybe this was the beginning of the end of my hatred of Dick Grayson! Marv was all, "I'm done writing Dick Grayson as the angry kid trying to live up to Batman's legend! From now on, he'll be his own man, compassionate and thoughtful!" Also, maybe Marv just continued to write him as a bitter asshole and I was right not to like Dick Grayson until the 21st Century. The prologue features Starfire on a satellite in a garden throwing a snake back to Earth from orbit. Maybe she's the one on hallucinogens? New Titans #113 Rating: C. I like that Dick Grayson supposedly grew up in this issue but I'm not sure how he really changed. The entire premise that he considered his life and what he should be doing distracted him from the waterfall ahead was just Dick repeating all of his life's errors. But somehow this time, he had a revelation? Whatever, Marv! I guess I just have to accept when you tell me through the narration boxes that Dick is now a man!

#Teen Titans #New Titans #DC Comics #DC #Comic Book Review

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children [DP x Batman Crossover] Ch. 1

Disclaimer: It's been a while since I watched DP and the only Batman/DC stuff I've interacted with are B:TAS, the JL cartoons, and what I got from fandom osmosis so don't expect any sort of canon compliance.

In Which: the author takes advantage of the passage of time in Nanda Parbat being wonky and Danny doesn't give up, per se, but is sort of resigned to being stuck with the League of Assassins until further notice.

AO3 | Prologue | [ 1 ] | 2 |

CW for descriptions of non-consensual drug use (if there's anything you guys would like me to tag, please tell me)

-----

WHEN SOMETHING WENT WRONG WITH DANNY’S LIFE, it was usually because of one or two things: Ghosts or Vlad. And considering their truce and how even Vlad wouldn’t go this far (at least, Danny hoped), Danny was kidnapped because of ghosts. Or his association with ghosts.

Though how an organization of ninja-assassins got wind of his ‘unique’ circumstance was beyond him. The shackles they slapped on his wrists were more a formality than anything after the second time he tried to escape them with intangibility. The only reason they managed to get him contained the entire trip from Amity Park to wherever the fuck Nanda Parbat lay was because of the cocktail of drugs they pumped into his system spiked with blood blossoms.

Danny had to give it to them. The League of Assassins might not have any anti-ecto weaponry, but they did their homework.

He barely remembered the trip. He catches flashes—blurry figures and words he couldn’t comprehend. A warm hand holding his, a thumb rubbing smooth circles on the back of his palm and calloused fingers running through his hair.

When he awoke, it was in a room bigger than his bedroom. His ankle was shackled to a bedpost, and the only door leading out was locked. There was a separate room for the bathroom off to the side and a shelf stacked with books decorating the otherwise bare walls, but other than that there wasn’t much else. Not even windows.

Intangibility, he learned, wasn’t an option. The blood blossoms in his bloodstream were still in circulation, rendering his transformation useless. If his nose was right, his captors were pumping blood blossoms from the vents. The sickly sweet of the flower was faint in the cool air, but the slight red haze that persisted in the room was unmistakable.

He tried, regardless. The rings barely made it half-way before his knees buckled and he started retching all over the floor. At least his stomach was empty.

-------

Danny doesn’t know how long he’s been in Nanda Parbat. Time moved differently here. Faster, he thought. He doesn’t really understand how or why, though sometimes he wondered what Clockwork thought of all of this.

(There are times, in the darkness and solitude of his cell, when Danny would call for Clockwork to rescue him. Quietly, so quietly, it was barely even a whisper. But Clockwork would hear it—Danny was sure he would. Clockwork helped him out before, so this time shouldn’t be all that different. But at the end of the night, nothingness would answer him. And Danny had to learn over and over again that even the Ghost of Time had his own rules to follow.)

It had taken a few days and Talia nearly biting the head off of the League’s physician for them to realize that blood blossoms would be an awful way to contain him. Effective at immobilizing him, yes, but the flowers left him about as helpless as Superman in a kryptonite cave.

“It all works out in the end,” Talia would say. “The blossoms were never going to become a long-term solution; you might end up developing an immunity to them given enough exposure.”

Though knowing now what Talia’s ‘long-term plan’ was for making sure Danny didn’t slip through the walls of the headquarters and fly across the ocean, Danny would rather take his chances with the blood blossoms.

Danny might not have been as smart as Vlad, but he was tricky and creative when he needed to be. He knows he’s powerful. And sure, he might forget some of his own abilities every now and then, but that doesn’t mean he can’t use them. In the time he’s been stuck in the Leage’s lair (and coherent), Danny had thought of a dozen escape plans, each one with a high chance of success. If he made an attempt, he could guarantee the League wouldn’t notice until he was a quarter-way across the globe.

Escaping wasn’t the problem. That would be the easy part.

His core burned at the thought of it. And it hurt—as if his entire being was dunked in a vat of dry ice and left to freeze. He hated how he was here and everything that he was protecting was far. Away.

Danny wanted to go home. Wanted to read comic books in his bed, play Doom with Tucker and Sam, sleep in class and make fun of the Box Ghost. He wants to eat his mom’s food, even if there’s a fifty-fifty chance that it would come alive and try to eat him instead. He wants to listen to Jazz try to psychoanalyze his problems. Wants to go fishing with his dad and eat his famous chocolate fudge. Wants to fly above the skies of Amity Park and touch what little he can of the universe before he’s called down again.

Amity Park is his haunt. His Home. The soft hum of the Ghost Portal in the basement a lullaby he’s listened to for so long that sleeping without it was next to impossible. Every fiber of his being craved to go back because how is he supposed to protect Amity if he isn’t there?

But to go back meant sacrificing everyone.

Danny doesn’t risk it.

(The—the last time was an accident. If Danny isn’t—if he isn’t careful, this time it may be an assassination. He refused to have his family’s death on his hands again.)

He has faith in Sam, Tucker, and Jazz to hold down the fort until he could find a way to escape. They’re smart. Smarter than him. They’ll work something out and—in a worst-case scenario, they’ll find a way to shut down the Ghost Portal to stop the ghosts from coming through.

Logic meant nothing to his ghost core, though. The next best thing to do was to drown out his worries with the League’s rigorous education.

Hand-to-hand and weapons combat. Geography. History. Dozens of foreign languages. Poisons and herbology and basic first-aid. His days are packed with new things to learn and to repeat until it’s drilled into his skull so deep he could recite the information in his sleep. (Hyosycamus niger, aka Henbane. Every part is highly toxic and can cause dizziness, stupor, insanity, and eventual death. It’s medicinal uses range from--)

The League demanded perfection. The Demon’s Head demanded even more than that.

Talia oversaw his education. Sometimes, there would be another, older, man by her side, observing his regimen with cold calculation. Whenever that man arrived, Danny’s instructors were always stricter.

His teachers made little effort to interact with him outside of their set schedule, and during his lessons they only ever answer pertinent questions. He supposed there would be other students of the League in Nanda Parbat, but he’s seen neither hide nor hair of them. His rooms (a bedroom + bathroom combo that led out into a large indoor space for training) are separate from everything else.

Danny slept alone, ate alone, and trained alone. And for a boy who has had his two best friends stuck to his side like glue for as long as he could remember, it’s a terribly lonely experience.

His shadow guards don’t count. They might as well be another piece of furniture. Another stone in the wall.

-------

Talia was the only one that broke his new mundane routine, as much as she was the cause of it. She was his only source of companionship in this hell hole; the only one who would really speak to him. And yeah, he knew why that was. Jazz had rambled on enough about Stockholm syndrome to know that this ‘arrangement’ was Talia’s attempts at forging a bond between them. But godit’s just so hard to be stuck inside your own mind all day when. It made him think too much. Worry. (Whatifwhatifwhatifwhatif).

And then—

And then.

Danny had asked Talia a multitude of questions, but only two did she ever answer. Both asked when he was still trying to flush the drug cocktail and the blood blossoms from his system.

The first was when he asked, “Why am I here?” She answered that it was because Ra’s al Ghul, her father, wanted him. He had knowledge the Demon’s Head wanted; powers that Ra’s could only ever dream of. The man was curious—though Talia assured him over and over again that Danny wouldn’t be vivisected and studied for science.

The second answer came right after when Danny asked her “How could you be so sure?”

Talia smiled. Lacquered fingers coming up to brush away the dark strands that fell over his face. Her hands traced the curve of his jaw, cupping his cheeks to raise his eyes to hers. “Because you are my son,” she said, voice honey sweet.

He jerked from her hold.

Burned by it.

“You’re lying,” he spat. “I’m already someone else’s son. Try again.”

Talia let her hands drop to her sides. “You are my son.” She took a step closer towards him. Steady. Firm. “That is why you are here.”

“I don’t believe you.”

A pitying smile. “Be that as it may, you cannot change the truth.” She approached him, slowly backing him against the wall before she reached out to tilt his chin upwards. Some traitorous part of Danny’s mind catalogued her features. Made connections that shouldn’t exist. “I have carried you in my womb, Daniel. You were a part of me for so very long and I loved you more with each passing day. You are of my body and of my blood—not matter how much you may deny it.”

“No.” He pushed her hands away and raked his hands over his hair. “You’re lying.” She must be. They don’t look alike. Not at all. Everyone always said he was his dad’s—Jack Fenton’s—exact copy. Black haired and blue eyed and sharp-jawed. Awkward but well-meaning and with a heart of gold, his mother said. It was once of the facts of life; Danny took after his dad, and Jazz took after their mom. Simple as that.

(There is a memory resurfacing from his early childhood that Danny is desperately trying to repress again. Memories of kids teasing him on the playground, innocently cruel in the way only children can be as they tried to convince him he was adopted. That his skin looked nothing like his parents’. Dusky where his parents and sister were fair. He went home crying to his parents that same day, and they soothed away his worries with hushed words and a well-timed distraction.)

He asked no more questions after that. Talia was lying to him for some reason, and no answer she could give would be trustworthy anyways. What little of him he could see in her was only a figment of his own imagination. His mind playing cruel tricks.

Then his hopes were dashed aside when Talia showed him a picture of his father a day later.

The man in the photo looked like him. Black haired and eyes the same shade of too-bright blue. There were differences, of course. The man in the photograph was fairer, unlike Danny. He was taller and broader where Danny was lean and lanky. But despite this and all the other minute differences, this man who was supposed to be Danny’s biological father looked like him.

The same slant of the brow. The same shape of the eyes. The way the man held himself with this sense of gravitas and power that Danny couldn’t yet do in his awkward teenage years but had seen before. In a monster another man.

Danny’s future self was terrifying in its inhumanity, but it didn’t take that much of an imagination to know that he looked almost exactly like the man in the picture.

#danny phantom #batman #danny phantom x batman crossover #cw; drug use #phantom children.txt

[halinski]

V-cards for V-day?

For @candybarrnerd as a part of @fandomcares

read on ao3

174.

Stiles drops his bat next to the rear of the jeep mercilessly. It's been of good service but now it’s covered in all kinds of stuff he doesn't want to think about. It's going to need some proper cleaning later on; until then, Roscoe is his only baby. He has half a mind to kick the bat for extra measure. His whole body hurts, and his clothes are messed up, one of his gloves ripped so his hand is sore and there is goo everywhere; even Roscoe's got some of that weird slimy substance smeared across the blue paint. Stiles grimaces, tearing his gaze away from the atrocity covering his beloved car. That's what you get when you have to fight goblins unprepared. They've gotten way too comfortable in resolving conflict with minimum effort.

"You know those extra padded layers we were talking about? Yeah, that might be a conversation we should pursue further," he says to himself as he pulls the damaged glove off and lets it drop next to the bat. He flexes his hand and winces as pain shoots up his arm. Off to his right, Scott is going on and on about how absolutely ruined his day is, which would be amusing if it weren't the umpteenth time he’s bringing it up today. He’s pretty sure the universe knows it’s Valentine’s Day by now.

"I told you that when you bought them." Derek appears next to Stiles just as fingers wrap around the wrist of his sore hand. One of the blisters has popped and bled a bit and Derek scrutinizes the damage. Stiles will never understand Derek's willingness to have his face so close to such a disgusting sight.

"It's not that bad. I use a metal bat now, remember? No splinters that can get infected and have my hand mutating to something twice its size," Stiles tells him. He might be exaggerating a little bit but hey, the pain had been real. Real enough to make him consider asking Derek to saw his hand off - just like Stiles had almost done with Derek's arm. Sweet memories.

This'll be healed in three days' time. Not that that stops Derek from being overprotective and sneakily trying to take the pain. Stiles sees the faint blackened veins even if Derek tries to tilt his hand out of sight. He slaps at Derek's arm with his free hand until he lets go.

“Hey! None of that, mister. Don't go breaking promises."

“I never promised I wouldn't take your pain."

“Yes, you did! We had this discussion again just 2 weeks ago, remember? I was scolding you just like this," Stiles waggles his finger in the air to emphasize his point, "and I made you promise! I made you say- you said..." His eyes narrow when he remembers Derek's exact wording and realizes that he managed to weasel his way out of it. "You ass."

Derek gives him a pointed look, all smug and not half as apologetic as he should be.

“You, Derek Hale, are one big buttface. You have a gorgeous face and a beautiful butt but you’re also a buttface, meaning you need to listen to me. I’m the man of the house, you know.” Stiles intends to remain stern. But when Derek dips his head in his familiar fashion to hide his smile he can’t help the outbreak of butterflies in his stomach. His own facial expression melts into a smile as Derek curls a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him in to kiss his temple.

“And that’s another diversion tactic of yours, huh?” Stiles asks, nudging him fondly. He strips his second glove.

“It’s quite effective,” Derek says with a shrug. He lets his hand run down Stiles’ back, as well as his side, and Stiles knows he’s checking for injuries, so he keeps still and doesn’t make a sound even when Derek hits a sore spot.

“I’m fine, jeez. Go check with the others,” Stiles shoos him off before the moment can get too intimate around the pack. Not that he’s not grateful. He knows Derek will be cleaning up his wounds later; it’s like some kind of after battle ritual, a bonding moment. Eventually, he will also let Derek take some of the pain simply because he gets to heal faster.

He can’t help himself watch Derek walk away, going from one pack member to the next, reaching out for each of them. Three years ago, Stiles would never have been able to predict just how tactile wolf packs were and now - well, he’s pretty sure there’s near constant contact between them all. Jackson has taken a liking to it, though he’d needed almost as much convincing as Derek. Stiles watches Isaac smile up at the alpha when Derek puts an arm around his shoulders. The beta leans into his side for a moment and nods as they talk.

174 days. Probably.

It’s Valentine’s Day and even Jackson and Lydia have romantic plans that they’re missing out on. Hell, Danny is single and he has plans. It’s only Derek and him who don’t. Usually, being the odd one out doesn’t matter to him. He’s been the weird kid all his life. And usually he doesn't care for a commercialized holiday. But this is Derek and him. As in, together. A relationship. Stiles has never done anything like this before and he’s worried. He can’t help it. Hours of reading up on theory couldn’t prepare him for this.

It’s been 174 days since the first kiss. That’s what counted as them being in a relationship, right? Or was it the three months before when they first held hands? The first hug that lasted longer than a minute? Stiles isn’t sure he can pinpoint the exact time they crossed the line from friends to something more. It is a pretty defining trait for their relationship in general, as the progress from strangers to friends had been just as murky.

Not that Stiles is complaining. Things are great. Couldn't really be better. Well, they could do without the Nemeton attracting all kinds of supernatural evil but in the end they always manage to deal with it. He has a part time job at the supermarket to help out with bills and splits the rest of his time researching to try to stop the Nemeton, working on his magic, and the pack.

Said pack is now coming up to him in turns for some good old fashioned scenting in quick form before they would all part ways. Erica plants a kiss on Stiles' cheek as she hugs him sideways, trapping his arms by his side. "How's my Batman?" She's decidedly cheerful for someone with goblin guts smeared across her face - and hands. Hands that are now soiling his clothes.

Stiles whines.

"I'm just hoping this washes off because this is more disgusting than Jackson's lizard slobber," he says.

“I heard that, Stilinski!" Jackson called over. "It wasn't slobber."

“I had that crap all over my hands. It felt just as slimy."

"At least it made you shut up for once," Jackson mutters just loud enough for Stiles to hear. And then a quiet "ow," as Lydia elbows him before she comes over to join him and Erica.

"Sometimes I'd rather be paralyzed again than deal with him," Stiles jokingly tells her.

"Wouldn't we all?" Erica hums, turning to wink and stick her tongue out at Jackson.

"Are you hurt?" Lydia asks. Her hand finds Stiles' arm then, giving him a light squeeze. He smiles at her.

"I'm good," he assures the two of them, as well as Derek, who he knows has to be listening. "Got blisters," he just confesses, holding up his hand.

"Poor boo," Erica coos, nuzzling in under his jaw, finally letting him go when she's done scenting him. As soon as she does, Boyd is suddenly at his back, rubbing his shoulders.

It takes a while for them to part, until everyone is done with everyone and Derek has taken the wheel in the jeep. The drive home is rather silent, which is admittedly unusual for Stiles but he's kinda freaking out here. It's Valentine's Day after all and he has no concrete plan. They had kind of agreed on nothing special but...

He's thinking maybe to surprise Derek with some romantic sexy time. He's old enough after all and it being their first time would make it romantic, right? They've never talked about it though, never come close to doing it, and that thought makes him nervous. A healthy relationship requires a physical aspect, too. That's something they're missing.

Would flower petals and candles be too cheesy? He should've prepared something at least. He doesn't even have condoms. Someone wanting him still feels so unrealistic, especially someone wanting him back - and that someone being Derek... Though the werewolf does manage to make Stiles feel wanted and loved. And love, that- that's a strong word but he thinks this between them could be.

Yet, there's still the nonexistent sex aspect.

"What's wrong," Derek questions in that manner of his where he states rather than asks as he pulls into the parking lot by the loft. Somehow he makes it work. Stiles sighs. Lying to Derek won't work and telling him the truth would just make things awkward.

"I'm tired," he says instead, which is not the issue but also true. Leaning his head back against the headrest, he turns to look over at Derek - torn sweater, messy scruff and all. Derek gazes at him for a short while, calculating and then deciding not to push it. He gives a small nod and squeezes Stiles' knee before exiting the car. Stiles follows suit.

"We'll shower, order in, and crash on the couch," Derek assures him.

“What are the chances of you actually killing me if I reverse that order?"

"Be happy I'm not making you undress right here... Your car is going to stink horrifically of goblins for weeks." Derek huffs.

Stiles lets out an indignant sound. "Don't listen to him, Roscoe, baby. Papa is gonna take care of you." He strokes the hood of the car as he throws a glare at Derek.

Derek just ushers him inside.

###

The shower gives Stiles time to think. He thinks about how they could be showering together right now if being naked together was a thing they do. Hell, they don't even have those crazy desperate make out moments where they're seconds away from tearing off each other's clothes. Stiles expected things to change when he got into a relationship. Then he expected things to progress as the relationship did. But here he is, finding himself completely indifferent to having sex with Derek Hale - or, even more so he kind of doesn't want to have sex with Derek Hale.

Why? He can't say. It just freaks him out too much. He doesn't understand why people do it. He just doesn't... Get the point. Apparently it's the best feeling in the world, orgasming together with someone but ask him right now and Stiles could think of 100 better things to do than to have sex.Then again, he reminds himself he's never had it so he can't say. He just has to give it a try. Especially if it's something Derek wants or expects out of the relationship. Stiles wants to give him everything.

That thought hits something inside Stiles' chest as he steps out of the shower and in front of the mirror. He wants to give Derek all of him; every thought, and every feeling, and every particle. He wants to give him all he has to offer, in the insane hope that he could be enough. This pale skin that burns within minutes in the sun, dotted with imperfections all over; these lanky arms, twigs, in comparison to Derek's; his upturned nose, like a piggy, as someone in elementary school had once said; his dull brown eyes and faint lips and uneventful buzzed hair. Stiles brushes a hand through it as he observes his appearance.

He doesn't feel like he has much to offer in any regard, but apparently Derek sees something worthwhile there - and Stiles is eternally grateful he does. Which he intends to show Derek. The ridiculousness of Valentine's Day be damned. So Stiles dries off and does his hair, trying to look presentable despite having only sweatpants and an old T-shirt to change into. He's nervous throughout dinner, which they eat out of plastic takeout boxes, and he can see the ever so slight frown on Derek's face because of it. Still, Derek knows better than to press the issue or question the jokes and fake laughter Stiles presents.It doesn't get easier. In fact, when Derek suggests they lie down in his bed rather than the couch, Stiles is sure his heart is going to beat out of his throat. His voice breaks, when he agrees with a "yeah," but he turns sharply and marches off to the bed before either of them can change their mind. This is going according to his plan after all. He wants to do this, wants to give Derek all of himself physically.

But he's shaky when he comes to a stop at the end of the bed and stares down at it. Every breath is a battle at this point and he's so close to losing it, even considers bolting and hiding in his own bed at home, in his childhood bedroom, under the blanket of safety.

“Stiles." Derek comes up behind him, close enough for him to feel his warmth and the waft of air from his breath against the back of his neck. Stiles tenses. Hands come to rest lightly on his hips as Derek's lips brush his skin. "Why don't you lie down?"

But Stiles can't answer. Nor can he move to comply. He's frozen. At the same time his whole being buzzes with anxiety and his brain screams in panic. And he's trying, he's trying so hard to convince himself he wants this-

"I don't want to!" It bursts out of Stiles and he flees Derek's proximity over to the side of the room. He gets a breath of relief but then just feels dejected as he realizes he can't do this. Derek's face also speaks of rejection and devastation and Stiles has to drop his gaze, shoulders slumping as he hugs an arm around himself.

Silence spreads between them, making the distance feel as wide and deep as the grand canyon. Stiles can feel Derek's gaze on him but how is he supposed to explain? He's not sure he understands himself. All he knows is there is something he's supposed to be feeling and wanting and doing, but he doesn't feel the need for it. He bites the inside of his cheek as his eyes start to burn.

"Okay..." He hears from Derek, the insecurity clear in his voice. "Do you-..." A sigh. "Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

But Stiles still doesn't know what to say. "I... I can't- " he manages feebly, thinking: I can't do it, I can't give you what you want, I can't be what you need.

The urge to cry only grows. They had been doing so well and Stiles couldn't believe his luck - he is dating Derek freaking Hale! - but of course he has to go and ruin it.

Maybe he's broken. Maybe asexual is a term weird, broken people use to feel a little better about themselves. Maybe he'll never be anything close to normal and will never get his happily ever after with someone- with Derek. He can't imagine ever wanting somebody else anymore. He knows he has a long life ahead of him but just like his dad hasn't yet dated again after his mother, that's how he feels about one sourwolf.

"Stiles," Derek tries again, and Stiles can hear it in his voice; the desperation and longing, the sadness. He knows Derek wants to be able to help him but the older male doesn't dare move closer again. Stiles knows how important consent is to him but he can't give it to him now, not for the simplest touch and especially not anything more.

Stiles blinks furiously, trying to will the tears away because hell, crying certainly isn't going to fix anything. Even his tears are stubborn enough to be defiant though, a droplet starting to crawl down his cheek. He still can't move.

Derek doesn't either.

"Did I... do something?" He asks quietly.

Stiles takes particular interest in the air in front of him, around him. He's not sure if he's making it up or if it's actually getting more stuffy by the second. He watches dust particles float around unconcerned and wonders how many he's breathed in and where they go once they enter his body. Funny how the body knows exactly what it needs to do all on its own sometimes, like filtering the air it breaths and breathing in itself, until it comes to a point where it just doesn't.Stiles knows he'll work himself into a panic attack if he doesn't shake himself out of it right now. So he quickly makes himself shake his head.

“No," he finally answers, while turning away to the far corner, where he sinks down against the two walls. "No. No, you didn't. Absolutely not."

Holding his hands up, he counts his fingers out of habit, trying to regulate his breathing according to the numbers. He can't tell if they're shaking or not. There's a weight on his chest that he can't rid himself of.

Derek still hasn't moved from the other side of the room, looking more helpless than Stiles has ever seen him.

Stiles runs a hand through his hair, pressing it down against his scalp as he lays his head back. He lets his eyes close for a second and continues to focus on his breathing.

“Okay, sorry, I just- This happens...," he waves a hand through the air, "just happens sometimes. Totally on me. All me. You did nothing. I-"

"Keep breathing," Derek interrupts him. "Can I...?" He hesitantly walks forward and motions next to Stiles. After Stiles invites him with a sweep of his arm, he lowers himself to the floor a generous arm's length away. He's barefoot and in sweatpants himself. That's about as far as Stiles dares look up before he looks back to his knees.

It feels like forever before he can feel his thoughts slowly wandering away from reminding himself to breathe in and out, in and out. Eventually he relaxes out of the uncomfortable position he's in, stretching his legs out in front of him.

“Sorry."

“Stiles."

And Stiles knows that tone, knows what Derek is going for but he can't help but feel terrible for ruining the evening. He sighs.

"This is not how I planned the evening to go," he mumbles.

"It's been a long day," Derek justifies and Stiles wants to laugh, because IF ONLY it were just that, but he feels too exhausted and too much like a failure.

"Yeah, no. This is just- I wanted..." But he can't finish the sentence, just like he couldn't go through with sex.

"You haven't had one in a while, have you?" Derek asks.

“Like... An attack?"

“Yeah."

Stiles shakes his head, shrugging. "No. Not really. I used to have them all the time when my mom died but lately-," what's lately? what changed? Is it- ",lately, I'm happy. Relaxed. Whatever."Stiles sees Derek nod curtly out of the corner of his eye. But when he looks over he sees his creased forehead.

"What happened now?" There's still some hesitation in his voice, like he has to step carefully and risk Stiles breaking. Which, after what just happened is not even an improbable thought. Stiles hates feeling so fragile.

It's too unnerving to hold Derek's gaze and admit what's going on so Stiles ends up tracing the edges of the floor boards in front of him with his gaze. How is he supposed to tell Derek? It could ruin everything. Derek could just break up with him. And Stiles wouldn't blame him for it. He's lucky enough to have had Derek until now. Is telling the truth worth the risk? He could stall and hold onto this just a little bit longer. But wouldn't that be unfair on Derek? If Stiles can't be what Derek needs, he might as well give up now.

"I wanted..." Stiles motions at the bed helplessly, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. He rubs a hand over his face. "Well, I actually didn't want to but I was going to- I thought... You know we never... Like... Did it," he mumbles.

"Did what?" Derek asks, like he wants Stiles to spell it out.

Stiles flails a little, aware he's just going to have to get over himself and say it. He sighs, the dread once again rising in his chest. "Have sex."

"Oh," he hears breathily from Derek, so surprised one could almost believe he had never thought about it himself.

"Yeah, we never did it. We've never- I mean, it's something missing in our- between us, right? Whatever this is and I... I don't really want to." He feels so small.

"Stiles," Derek says after a moment, and he sounds absolutely horrified.

Stiles closes his eyes.

"Stiles, I would never." Stiles isn't sure if he's ever heard Derek sound so serious in his life. "I would never," he repeats, "make you do something you don't want to. I would never do anything you're uncomfortable with. If you don't want sex, we're not going to have sex. It's out of the question. It's-"

When Stiles opens his eyes to the sound of Derek sounding desperate, he finds the sight of Derek's glassy eyes, a look of guilt on his face.

"I'm so sorry if I ever made you feel like you owe me to sleep with me. That’s the last thing I ever wanted you to feel. After Kate, I swore to myself-”

Stiles quickly interrupts him, finally turning to Derek and scooting a little closer. “You are nothing like her,” he tells him firmly. “You didn’t do anything. It’s just… me. I’m- I think I’m asexual. As in, I don’t like sex. Or well, the thought of it. I know I make a lot of jokes about it because I want to try to fit in. It makes me feel like- I can’t do this right. I can’t be what you need.” At the end, he drops his gaze again, feeling the shame burn up, along with the unhappiness.

Derek doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and Stiles’ fear of rejection only grows. He’s about to open his mouth to say something when Derek speaks.

“You are perfect to me just the way you are, Stiles,” he says softly, reaching out to set a hand on Stiles’. Stiles looks up, finding Derek’s gentle gaze on him. “Relationships don’t necessarily need sex. I don’t need it. I haven’t really enjoyed it in the past so I don’t mind at all.”

Stiles can hardly believe what’s happening. The anxiety is still not letting go of him yet, although hope wavers inside him.

Derek continues, “I love just being with you. I love getting to hold your hand and kiss you, having dinner with you, laughing with you and cuddling up to watch old movies with you. You are all I need. Nothing more.”

It’s like climax of every rom-com movie, the insanely cheesy, heart-wrenching moment and Stiles wants to hate on the both of them for it a little, but he can’t help the way it lifts all worries from his chest and fills him with a warmth in the way that only Derek’s hugs can. He’s getting teary-eyed himself now, and he turns twists his hand so he can take Derek’s in his own and give it a squeeze. “So, we are in relationship then?” he asks carefully. It’s weird how Derek makes him lose a sense for words somehow, unable to voice the feelings storming in his chest, when it’s all he really wants to do, make Derek feel the love he has for him.

“Uh, yes? Or did you not-”

“Okay good, because you are the best boyfriend ever, like The Best. In the world, in the universe. And I…” his heart thuds in his chest, “I love you.” The smile that appears on Derek’s face is gentle and reached his eyes in joyous wonder. He pulls Stiles over to himself to place a sweet kiss on his lips, his free hand cupping Stiles’ cheek.

“I love you, too,” he breaths softly.

“And you really don’t mind-” Stiles starts.

“I really don’t mind,” Derek insists, rubbing his thumb against Stiles’ jaw. “In fact, what I had wanted to suggest was just some cuddling, in a way. I wanted to help you relax.”

Stiles’ smile widens. He feels a little bit foolish now, having had a panic attack over something that didn’t turn out to be an issue at all but the feeling of comfort and happiness that comes from Derek’s presence and touch overpower any embarrassment that he has left.

“Also, I actually hid something under the best for us. For Valentine’s Day,” Derek adds sheepishly.

“You’re 100% a romantic, Derek Hale. You can fight me all you want on it but the truth remains as it is.”

Derek grunts but doesn’t argue and Stiles revels in it. He’s grateful for all the little things Derek does to show his affection after all. What’s a relationship without a little romance? He’s not expecting much as he crawls the few steps over to the bed, while Derek goes to sit on it, and starts rummaging underneath it to find a box.

Pulling it out, he flips the top open to reveal a bunch of brownies.

“You hid these under the bed?” is the first thing that comes out of Stiles, quirking an eyebrow at Derek - a habit he undoubtedly picked up from the werewolf.

“You would have found them anywhere else!” Derek protests. “Besides it came perfectly in handy now.”

“You will give me cavities. Literally and figuratively,” Stiles says with a grin. He takes the box with him as he climbs onto the bed to settle back against the pillows. Derek immediately joins his side, easily wrapping an arm around Stiles and maneuvering him back against his chest instead.

The brownies are nothing but pure, crispy but gooey, chocolate heaven and Stiles feels like he’s on cloud nine. The day has been a roller coaster ride in many ways but Stiles wouldn’t change it for anything in the world, when he gets to curl up with Derek at the end of the day, eating brownies in bed and just talking and laughing together.

#eternalsterek #sterek #fanfic #ace!stiles #panic attack #hurt/comfort #cuddling #candybarrnerd #fandomcares #i wrote this