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wolfjackle-creates · 8 months

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Ask Game:

8. "Who did this to you." and 24. Showing up at friend/mentors house.

With hurt Danny and any/all of the Bats.

Okay, but holy shit, you have no idea how perfect this one is. I was imagining a scenario with both of these earlier today. This is an alternate version of Bring Me Home where Danny and Tim were online friends from the time they were preteens. The actual fic will not go this way, so I'm so excited to have an excuse to share this version with y'all.

Nonny, I absolutely love you for sending these two in (no romo).

For those who don't follow Bring Me Home. Tim's username was IKnowYourSecrets and Danny often calls him "Secrets." Danny's username was -xXPolarisXx- and Tim will call him "Polaris."

And for everyone, Sam and Tucker ended up with codenames after all their adventures in Amity. Sam is referred to as Regrowth and Tucker as Pharaoh. This will come up later in Bring Me Home, but hasn't yet (mainly bc what I'm writing now takes place before those events).

Word Count: 1.2k

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Danny's vision blurred and he felt himself fall a dozen feet. He clutched his stomach tighter and grit his teeth against the pain.

He was almost there. He could make it.

With the last of his strength, he shot an ectoblast into the sky and fell a few more feet, hitting the roof of a building. He scrapped along the rough surface and the only reason he didn't scream was because he couldn't catch his breath enough to. Everything hurt.

He couldn't even push himself up and so just lay there, trying and failing to catch his breath. Not even when he heard a strange noise and footsteps behind him could he move. He tensed as much as possible.

"Who are you?" asked a man.

Danny just groaned. He hurt. He needed Tim.

The footsteps got closer and Danny opened his eyes. When had he closed them? He saw black boots and skin-tight leggins.

Then the man was kneeling. Blue accents on his chest, a domino over his eyes.

Danny let out a sigh. It tasted of ectoplasm. "Ni-win," he slurred.

"So you know who I am, who are you? What happened? How can I help?"

"R— R'bin. Know me."

"You're looking for Robin?"

His vision was going dark. "R'bin. Yea. Secrets. Friends."

"I'll get Robin here. Can you tell me your name?"

"Polaris. Tell—" Danny coughed weakly and spat out more ectoplasm. "Tell 'im, 'M ready to accept 'is offer."

"I will," promised Nightwing.

The blackness crept in further. Danny could hear Nightwing still talking, but couldn't make out the words. Everything was getting fuzzy. But he was in Gotham. Tim was here. Tim would make it all better. He let go.

---

Despite the quiet night, Tim was tense. He couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong. So when Dick's panicked voice came over the comms asking Damian about a secret friend, he was already pulling up Dick's location.

He was on the roof of Tim's civilian apartment building. Which, what?

"I do not have any secret friends," came Damian's reply.

"He's a meta. Caucasian with white hair. He's hurt bad, bleeding everywhere. Lazarus green blood—"

Tim's blood ran cold and he wished he could grapple faster. "Fuck! I'm heading to your location now. He's my friend, not Robin's. Bring him into my apartment. He needs specialized medicines and I've a supply."

"He called himself Polaris. Said he's ready to accept your offer," said Dick.

"Shit. Fuck. Okay. Eta, fifteen minutes."

"I'll get him inside."

"Don't try to treat his injuries," Tim ordered. "Human treatments won't work."

"Understood."

"And..." Tim hesitated, "Did he say how he was injured?"

"No. He passed out before he could."

Tim cursed again, but didn't reply further, despite the way the rest of his family demanded information. If it was the GIW, he'd need to arrange extraction for Sam and Tucker. But if it was Danny's parents... Well, he might just cross a line he swore he'd never cross when he first put on the Robin suit.

Fifteen minutes later, he was sliding the window to his apartment open. Dick had Danny laid out on the floor and was stripping him and pulling away loose bandages, revealing a large Y-shaped incision on his chest.

Dick looked up at him, face grim. Tim didn't let himself pause to look and ran to his bedroom and threw open his closet door. He slid open a hidden compartment revealing a safe and, with shaking fingers, punched in the code. The door swung open and he grabbed the silver-and-green case inside.

He rushed back to Danny's side. "Who did this to you?" he mumbled as he took stock of the injuries.

"Do you have any idea who might've wanted to hurt him?" asked Dick.

"With these wounds, it would be either the GIW or his parents." Tim bit back a hysterical laugh. "Been trying to get him away from them for three years now, but he swore they'd be okay once they realized who he was. Idiot." Tim bit his lip. He couldn't cry right now. He opened the case and pulled out gloves and antiseptic and began cleaning the wounds. "Dick, I need you to contact Superboy, Impulse, and Wonder Girl. Tell them Phantom's hurt bad and Regrowth and Pharaoh may need immediate extraction."

"Okay." Dick was already typing away on his phone. Moments later, it started ringing and Dick answered it on speaker.

Cassie's voice came over, "Red Robin, what's going on?"

"Phantom's been vivisected. He passed out before he could share the culprits. We're at my apartment in Gotham. If it was the GIW..."

"I'm sure Impulse is already there. I need to go home and grab my deflector first, but I'm going to get to Amity as soon as I can. We'll keep you updated."

"Thanks. Phantom's in bad shape. I don't..."

"Rob, you know what to do. We've known this was a risk for three years. You've talked to Frostbite and Regrowth and Phantom about how to best care for traumatic wounds. You're going to make sure he pulls through this."

Tim's eyes burned, but he kept working. Almost done and then he could start with the stitches. "Thanks."

"Anytime, Rob."

The call disconnected and Tim took a shaky breath. Time to start the stitches. They'd come directly from Frostbite and the thread glowed a bright, ectoplasm green.

"Tim," Dick's voice was tight, "Why do you have a case filled with Lazarus water and Lazarus-green supplies?"

"Not Lazarus water." He didn't bother explaining more. He laid the thread along the wounds and willed it to close the wound.

The thread obeyed, breaking into small pieces and sewing the skin together on his own. For the first time since he realized Danny was hurt, he smiled. Ghost medicine definitely made this part easier.

With the major injury taken care of as best as possible, Tim began checking over the rest of Danny. He had a bad burn on his left thigh, new electricity marks on his right shoulder, and his right ankle was either badly sprained or broken.

So he set to cleaning those as best he could. Creams then bandages covered the burns. The splint he laid along the ankle set itself just like the stitches had.

Dick tried to help, but Tim brushed him aside. It'd take too long to explain what had to be done.

Eventually, Dick got up and walked away. He could hear him in the kitchen area messing around in the fridge and reporting the situation over the comms, but he ignored it.

Finally, everything was categorized and bandaged to the best of his abilities. Now, for the final step. He pulled out a syringe shining bright with ectoplasm and stabbed it into a mostly-uninjured area of Danny's thigh.

Danny's back arched off the ground and he gasped, eyes flying open.

Tim leaned over him, "Danny, it's okay. You're safe now. You made it."

"Tim," gasped Danny.

"Yep. You made it. Can you tell me who did this to you?"

Danny closed his eyes and breathed out. "Mom and Dad."

Tim grasped Danny's hand. "Danny..."

Danny squeezed back. He opened his eyes and met Tim's gaze. "Still have that spare room for me?"

"I've had it since the day you died, idiot. Welcome home."

Danny gave a small smile even as tears tracked down his cheeks. "I'm home."

-----

Okay! That ended up being both longer and shorter than I thought it'd be. Hope you all enjoy. Thanks again for sending the prompt, Nonny! And the rest of you, feel free to keep sending some in. I'm off tomorrow and should be able to fill one or two. Any others I can work on over the course of the week.

For now, it's bedtime.

#dpxdc #ask game #prompt fill #bring me home au #au of an au #my writing #angst #danny fenton #tim drake #injuries #vivisection aftermath

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yappyappyapp · 2 months

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babe, only you.

jack hughes x reader

to feed my jack obsession recently, here’s a bit of angst and fluff (no mature content). please, enjoy.

also: there’s no proofread, so..

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you found yourself always wondering; “am i good enough for him?”, “do i deserve him?”. comments had been lashed out earlier this evening to darken those already eerie thoughts that you fought so hard to not reside with. a long, long stay.

jack came into the room, that was the man that’s ‘in love with you’. those thoughts slashed at your mind little cuts kept wracking your head. the trance you were in was broken by your lovers lips lovingly placed onto your head, and you felt the couch slightly dip when he sat down beside you. his arm snaked around your shoulders and pulled you close to him, your head lying on his shoulder.

no one questioned if he did enough in this relationship. no one made snarky comments on how he was so quiet, how he looked like he never put enough effort into how he showed his love, but they did to you. and it was torture trying to hit those thoughts out of your brain. every single one of those comments lingered for longer and longer each time someone made another.

“what’s wrong?”

his soft voice lingered in the room as he ran his calloused hands up and down your arm. the television was playing in the background, an old re-run of big bang theory, muted, but with subtitles.

“jack, it’s just,” you started, why couldn’t you form words. a pang in your heart stung against your chest. “i don’t deserve you.” you whispered, he froze, eyes straying from the tv and to your slumped form against him.

“what makes you think that?” he murmured, his blue eyes connected with your glossy (e/c) ones.

“i- im not good enough-“ you were cut off by a sweet kiss to the lips. “don’t talk like that. i don’t care if your quiet, i don’t care what people say about our relationship, (y/n)!” he exclaimed. “people don’t know you, and how lucky i am to actually know and to be with you. i thank anyone in the skies above that they let me hold your hands. you are everything, my universe, my world. don’t let people tear into you.”

he rubbed his hands up and down your spine as you sobbed painfully into his chest, dampening his shirt.

the thoughts were still there, but at least you had someone to guide you along this long and winding road.

“i love you.”

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seance · 2 months

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THE MUSKETEERS 10TH ANNIVERSARY REWATCH / fave episodes [2/?] ↳ SEASON 1, EPISODE 4 / the good soldier

#themusketeersedit #the musketeers #perioddramaedit #perioddramasource #the musketeers bbc #aramis #tmrewatch*#edits #i'm having so much fun rediscovering my lost love for textures #this doesn't even make any sense it's all over the place #but it's bringing me such peace of mind that i'm going with the flow honestly #hopefully someone else will like it too ♥#i couldn't skip this one #the angst was too delicious! the acting too life changing!#marsac was a mess but his scene with aramis were really something else #and i also loveeeeeeeeee how we're starting to see all their little dynamics coming into play #d'artagnan being a little shit <3 porthos being protective of said little shit <3 athos being an absolute menace with just three words <3 #and aramis being unhinged obviously #my fave

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tornado1992 · 2 months

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He was freezing on his own boiling sweat. But he didn’t felt like freezing at all.

His body was unmoving, the dormant promise of shattering if it did. His mind was getting so annoying, whispering ideas of just going down, closing his eyes and never open them again.

He’s been in and out. His eyes hurt, his chest makes wheezing noises and he can feel every single bone in his body trembling while burning.

It felt like hell, and he did wanted to sleep.

No. He couldn’t give up. Not to the burning in his chest. Not to the choking hold in his throat. Not to the way his head felt like it was drilling rods into his brain. No, he was Sonic the Hedgehog. He wouldn’t lose to a stupid cold.

Even if he felt tremors going through his body while he felt like melting. Even if his lungs felt like drowning themselves inside him. Even if he never felt slower in his life. He will not lose to a cold.

And a cold that doesn’t even know how to do its job for the matter.

Colds are supposed to make you feel cold, or at least give you the illusion of it. Caves were supposed to be icy freezing, this cave was icy and freezing when they first entered.

He was in a cave. And he had a cold. So why the hell did he felt like burning.

Warmth other than his own body’s surrounds him, he knows that. And even in his hell like feeling, for some reason that warmth comforted him. And that was enough.

He’ll endure. He will fight this. No matter how long does it take or how much it hurts to breathe.

Why? You’ve ran enough

No. It’s never enough. He still has so much to see. He has still has so much to show him.

He will endure. He will fight this.

Something cold touched his cheek. Tiny and moving slightly, like breathing.

So cold.

His neck hurt so much, begging not to move, but that wet cold little spot on his cheek begged him to turn and see.

Tails

He was cuddled in a ball right beside Sonic. The little guys nose pressing on his cheek. No.

He wanted to yell. He wanted yell and shout for him not to do that even if he scared the kit because he should not be doing that. He shouldn’t be that close to Sonic when had a cold. His little nose shouldn’t be pressing to Sonic’s face when he felt like dying. This little malnourished kid shouldn’t be anyway near a deathly sick Sonic.

But this was Tails.

Tails was smart, Tails was the smartest. He knows colds are contagious, he knows colds can be deadly for little kids, he knows he shouldn’t be face to face with a contagious sick hedgehog.

And he still is.

Tails listened when they woke up in the morning and Sonic couldn’t move because his body felt like shattering and his chest felt like choking, Sonic told him to pass him the water, and he listened. Tails listened when Sonic first started coughing and told him to not face him so he wouldn’t get sick, he patted his back restlessly though, but he listened. Later in his delirious sickness Sonic told him to go outside the cave so he could cool off, because if Sonic felt like burning in here, little fluffy Tails sure must’ve felt like melting, and even if he didn’t, he just put on a worried face, and listened.

So why didn’t he listened when he came back in and Sonic told him to get away from him.

He covered the speedster with both their blankets, not caring about the apparent icy ground beneath him as he called it. Both his tails were draped over Sonic, securing the blankets in place and keeping him from moving. Keeping him from uncovering and freezing in his own sweaty burning body. Even if Sonic didn’t felt like it was helping, he knew the kid was doing his best. As far as he knows, the kid’s just copying what he saw Sonic doing when he had a cold, lots of blankets and wet rags, lots of water and ear scratches. It wasn’t the kid’s fault that he didn’t want to feel warm. His whole pile of blankets and tails would’ve worked just fine if he hadn’t catch a low budget bootleg cold.

The kid was doing everything in his power to make him feel better, even if he was scared. Even if Sonic’s throat hurt far too much to try and tell him what to do. To try and tell him to get away, because he’ll get infected.

But Tails was just like him, reckless, arrogant, stuborn, and he wouldn’t stop until his brother felt better.

Tails was purring.

So cute and soothing. The greatest lullaby ever composed or interpreted. And it was so loud. Almost like the rumbling the cub’s tummy made on their first days together.

When was the last time he ate? They’d been here for hours. He must get better soon, he has to get Tails some food, he gave him all his water, poor kid must be so hungry and thirsty, How long have they been in here? It was still nighttime when they entered the cave, but he could swear he could see the evening light outside even with the rain. There wasn’t supposed to rain till a few days.

It hadn’t rained since a few days ago. So sudden, so inconvenient, took them by surprise when running down an extensive clearing, no cities, forest or caves in miles. Sonic curled around Tails as much as he could, running for what it felt like hours trying to find some shelter. Tails was almost dry when they finally found the cave, Sonic was soaking wet.

Maybe he should’ve dried himself, maybe he should’ve started a fire before just dropping on the ground. But Tails was fine. Tails was dry, warm and already asleep in his arms, so why do any of that? Why put him down to start a fire when the kit was already so cozy and warm? Why put him on the cold ground when Sonic’s chest was dry enough to function as a makeshift bed? Why wake him up with the loud noise of their backpack opening just so Sonic would get a towel out when his fluffy tails were already doing their best to share their warmth with him?

He’s in the middle of thanking the heavens for not letting his little bro get sick even when he slept practically glued to the hedgehog’s side. Really, he was thanking the heavens, until they sent a painful reminder that even if the keed didn’t, he did got sick.

A burning in his chest, almost chocking. He coughed, he was almost getting used to the feeling, as painful as it was, but not so much to the green looking drool that always followed, its presence letting him know that he wasn’t getting any better, great.

The drool he coughed this time wasn’t green. It was red.

The blood didn’t stopped coming out, the rain didn’t go away, and he could feel the warmth being ripped from his body.

He could feel how the universe was trying to take him away from his little brother.

Who gave it the right?

This kid was abandoned, outcasted, abused, hit, starved. The universe was willing to let that happen but Sonic wasn’t. He wouldn’t. And he didn’t, the moment he saw him he knew he wouldn’t leave him like that, and not long after he knew he wouldn’t leave him ever.

But the universe had other plans, and Sonic felt himself dying.

Why was the universe so focused on making this five year old kid suffer. The universe might not have favorites, but Sonic is starting to feel like it’s biased. Because if the universe takes him away, Tails will be alone again. This kid who can keep up with him and never ask him to stop, this kid who stayed with him to fight deadly world threatening battles, this kid who nuzzled right beside him trying to make him feel better even if he could die. This kid, his kid.

Why?

Why did the universe wanted his lil bro back to eating from trash cans, to shelter himself from the rain in some badly dug hole. Why does the universe want to leave him alone again?

He’s survived natural disasters, evil scientists, a few gods of destruction, and the universe wants to take him out like this. He’s fought and bled for this kid, he would do it again. And if the universe has plans on taking him right here, right now, then it better be preparing plan b.

If he’s going, he’ll decide how he goes. He’ll decide the moment, even if it’s sooner than he ever expected, he’ll do whatever he wants till he goes.

The universe wanted his kid to suffer by Taking Sonic away, but the universe didn’t take for account the kid’s strength, not his will, nor his heart.

Sonic did. And he won’t leave him without that, if he’ll leave, he wont leave him without closure.

He could give him that, he’ll give him one last thing. He was burning. But now he knew far too well that the cave they were sheltered in was closer to freezing than anything else.

The kit was already doing so much to keep him warm. His own little blankie draped over the speedster head. His tails so still, so cold over him. His nose felt like an ice cube. He was always the warmest of them, a little ball of fluff, a tiny sun, his own little sunshine. And he was freezing.

He’s kept them both warm so many times. He can keep him warm this one time.

Hugging him must increase the chances of him getting a cold. But at this point, Sonic is sure it’s not a cold what has him like this.

Tails is smart, Tails is the smartest, Tails knows this isn’t a cold.

So he reaches for him with his trembling arms and aching hands, the kit uncurls, and he hugs him. He knows this kid will not go over a stupid “not cold” or whatever this is. He’s survived worse, he’s endured worse. Worse than Eggman, worse than Sonic and worse than anyone in the world could imagine.

Tails was trembling, but he wasn’t coughing or wheezing everytime he breathed. Tails would survive. Tails will live happily, Tails will eat the best foods, have a beautiful house and tons and tons of friends.

Sonic doesn’t think that only because he knows him, he knows that because he loves him.

Love him?

It’s not even a question, but if it was, is not a question about if, its a question about how. Because he does love him. He doesn’t love him like the morning breeze or chilli dogs, not even like his speed.

He loves him… like the sun. He loves him like the sun and the sky and life itself.

He loves him like something he couldn’t live without.

He loves him.

He has his arms wrapped around his tiny body, holding him close, nuzzling him tight, but he needs to see him, he needs to tell him, he needs him to know.

He has to open his eyes, he has to see him one last time. To make sure that he’s not too scared. To try and tell him everything he hasn’t told him. To apologize for everything he couldn’t give him. To promise him that not even the universe can separate them.

It hurts to move. It hurts to breathe. It hurts so much. But he has to. He has to look at him, he has to open his eyes and look at his.

All his might into that little action. Baby blues shyly stare back at him. Chaos. He loves those sky like eyes. All the wonder and innocence that fills them. All the dreams and hopes they hold. All the love. But as shiny and glowey as they are, he wished they wouldn’t be shinning like this, not with tears, not with sorrow.

Still, he couldn’t ever bear not to love those eyes.

Cradling his white fluffy muzzle in his gloves, he feels like he has the whole world in his hands.

Always with you. I love you.

He hopes his words can reach him, if not through his voice, then through his eyes.

He hopes he has taught him enough. Enough to live a joyous amazing life. Enough to go to his friends so he won’t be alone when Sonic goes away. Enough to never stop, to never hive up until he can reach for the stars. Enough to know that he is loved.

He hopes he has shown him enough of the world, but he also hopes he can reach new places on his own, so his eyes will glow and sparkle again, not with tears, no, never with tears.

He looks at him, there’s fear in his sight, but there’s also bravery. He hopes those baby blues never stop shining.

A tiny, so much smaller hand than his own made its way to his own muzzle. Little fingers cleaning the droplets that were falling from dull emerald eyes.

Crying emerald eyes.

Huh, he doesn’t remember the last time that happened. But again, its not really surprising either. Chaos knows this kid makes the impossible possible. If he can give this kid his smile, then he can give him his tears.

They sting, make his sight blurry, and feel hot against his face. But these are happy tears, so it’s alright.

If he will go while seeing the most beautiful sky ever, then he is grateful he opened his eyes one last time.

Tails will survive. He’ll make sure of it. Because the moment he goes off, he’ll find whatever is up there. he’ll fight whatever is up there, he’ll kill whatever is up there to make sure they don’t take him.

But Sonic isn’t gone yet, he was still here. So he’ll make the most of it, the most of the hours, minutes, or seconds he has left to be with his brother.

He wants his brother’s last memory of him being one of love, not fear or sadness, love.

So he smiles.

Sonic held him till there wasn’t any warmth left he could give him.

Tails hugged him even when there wasn’t anything warm to hold on to anymore.

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