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faeriekit · 9 months

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Health and Hybrids (V)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and whatever prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWO is here PART THREE is here PART FOUR is here and this is part five💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off... Batman had a meeting! Danny acquired age appropriate enrichment toys. All is well. You know. Except for the everything else. But it’s fine and MM is on his way so it’ll all be great soon for sure! :)

Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my awful attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

One…Morning? Evening?

Well. One day, Danny rediscovers his tongue.

Most of the muscle is there. Things taste better after he remembers how to taste.

(If everything tastes like iron, well…Danny tries to ignore that.)

Its main function is social. When Danny needs the quiet humans he can’t see to Shut Up or Go Away!, it is now within his power to blow a raspberry.

A slightly bloody raspberry. But still! A success! And when the fuzzy red human buzzes and whines about scaring them off, Danny blows it one too.

If all it does is make the human cry more, hey. That’s not Danny’s business.

The buzzy human comes back with its friends, with fresh sheets, spilling nervousembaras!sednervous all over the room.

Blech. Danny saves himself the trouble and phases through his bed and through the floor below. He does not need to be grabbed again.

He has more energy than he used to. It gets him farther than he’s used to; by the time he finds and works his way through an apple, a pear, and a whole plate of chicken wings, he’s still not sleepy.

…Huh. He rolls over underneath his usual haunt: a conference table. He isn’t feeling the urge to drop into his core. He’s achy, sure, and his limbs hurt and his mouth hurts from eating and he can’t see, but also…

Is Danny bored? Is he finally well enough to be bored of being sick and injured?? That’s. Is that progress? Is it…regression??

Danny sulks under his conference table (his now) with a pile of chicken bones and a few stems and doesn’t know what to do.

If he goes back to his bed…will the sheets already be done? Will people be waiting to get him? Did he lose his…ugh, he doesn’t want to think of them as toys. His…enrichment? Educational tools?

…Okay they might be toys. Whatever. When Danny feels better, he’ll grab something more age appropriate. Maybe he’ll get them from his—

Danny flinches.

…From his house.

If he can get there.

Whatever. He doesn’t want to think about that right now. He wants to figure out how to get rid of his trash without revealing his location. Or leave his conference table shelter.

Danny drums his claws against the low-pile carpet that stretches below him. Should he stay? Rest up? Wait for the threats to his admittedly-kinda-pathetic territory to leave? Should he…go get more food? Should he explore more? He feels all kinds of sore and tired but his head mostly feels clear. Maybe if he—

There’s a hissing noise. Danny bristles. He hisses in like, but—oh. It’s a door.

…Oh. It’s the door.

Uh oh. That’s um. That’s.

Uh oh.

Danny quickly pretends that he hadn’t hissed. He invisibly pushes the top of his head through the thick wood of the conference table. They shouldn’t be able to see anything if he peeks.

Well. Unless they can? But if they can, that’s. Uh. That’s a whole new problem.

Several tall, colorful, adult humans walk into the room. He can’t quite tell how many. Just a bunch. And they’re tall. But hey, they’re color coordinated for easier determination, at least.

Danny lowers himself back down through the table. Should he leave? Will they see him if he tries to leave? Can they spot him?

He sits and worries and he dithers as the humans slowly surround the table and the hidden ghost underneath. Should he…should he go through the floor? Will they know he’s there? Is it even safe to get back to his cot yet?

Feet start appearing underneath the table. Danny shies away from them. He pulls his chicken bones away from them too; if they step on one, they might notice him.

Then everything gets quiet. There’s only one quiet, droning voice.

So maybe Danny peeks again.

There’s a giant shadow at the front. It’s probably human. It has black arms and black legs and a patch of what is probably skin in his very fuzzy vision. It stands beside a lit screen.

Danny squints.

…Oh. He can’t quite tell what it’s about, or what’s exactly is being shown on the screen, but he knows what a powerpoint presentation is supposed to look like: a person, a lot of talking, a screen, and a lot of people listening. They’re just…talking. They’re not even talking about Danny.

Okay. He’ll rest under the table. It seems…safe enough for now.

It’s better to listen to human heartbeats and breathing in a room than it is to sit in his silent one, waiting for some new horror to break the everpresent quiet. Danny lays on his belly, nose to the carpet, and counts how many feet are under the table. (There are sixteen feet.) Some humans are wearing real shoes, with inch-thick soles of hard rubber at the bottom. Some are wearing things that look like shoes, but are too flexible, with soft soles that bend and curl as they flex under the table. Very few of them have laces or fixtures. Huh.

A wrapper falls. Danny watches the ball of foil flutter to the floor, at peace with his position, tired of inspecting shoes. And then a face pops down.

Danny freezes. (It’s not the smartest move.)

The face that popped down probably sees him back, considering how still it goes. And then, very slowly, so slowly, a hand reaches down. Danny flinches back, and—

…It grabs the wrapper. The adult carefully gets back up. The face disappears.

Danny doesn’t move. Danny doesn’t leave. Danny doesn’t breathe.

He waits. The human slowly goes back to tapping its toes, wiggling in its seat—and vibrating, in a way that says bored/bored/bored the way the younger human sometimes does.

…No one says anything. No one does anything. No one jumps under the table to get him, there isn’t a break in the speaker that indicates identifying Danny as Present, or as A Problem. Danny is simply…hidden.

He should leave. It would be smart to leave. Danny would be safer if he left.

But also.

Maybe.

This might be the first time he’s been so close to humans in so long.

They don’t know he’s here. It should be…safe. If he just. Listens to the indistinct sound of human voices. Let them wash over him, like a radio left on in the other room.

Danny’s sated. He’s achy. He’s bored. He’s sad. He’s lonely.

…He stays.

He doesn’t notice his humming or the quiet purr in his chest before the hand comes back down again. Danny flinches away from it, the hum guttering to a stop where it had laid.

There’s something about its hand. The hand came down, before, but now there’s something more to it. Another color—a darker color. It’s hard to tell in the shadow underneath the desk. Maybe a—green? A blue? Maybe?

The hand shifts, just a little. And then the thing comes flying at him. Danny jolts backwards, digging his claws into the mere millimeters of carpeting underneath him, and—

Oh. The thing isn’t moving. It hasn’t even exploded.

Danny reaches out a hand. Taps it, gently. It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t attack him. It doesn’t excrete anything acidic or bite him. He sniffs it, just to be doubly sure, and nope. It smells like plastic. The wrapper crunches under his hands, even when everything sounds mute and muffled. The noise is borderline imaginary, so Danny can’t exactly tell what it sounds like when he plays with the little plastic flaps.

He can tell what it is now, though. The food bar goes down whole, wrapper and all, into his gullet.

Nice. The outside tastes bad, of course, but it’s nice.

The hand goes away, and no one bothers Danny. It’s nice. There are voices, but they aren’t yelling. They aren’t mean to him. They aren’t talking about what his insides look like or how bad he is or how to take more pieces off of him.

…Danny’s core thrums evenly. Peacefully. Maybe he will want that nap after all. His body gets kind of grouchy when it comes to plastic. He can pretend that it isn’t grumpy with his improvised diet with a nap.

Danny curls up on the floor, core beating along with the quick and even taptaptaptaptap fluttering of a too-quick human heart, and settles in for a quiet one.

(When he wakes up again, no one is around to see him throw out his chicken bones in the tiny trash receptacle by the doorway.)

(His toys and new sheets are all there when Danny gets back to his cot.)

(He’s too relieved to do anything but take a second nap.)

“So,” Wally tries, leaning against the wall. “The… Alien? Extraterrestrial?”

Barry shrugs. Fishes a cheeto out of his bag. “Bart’s been calling it a ghoul. They crashed half a mile off the Kent farm a little after you popped out of the Speedforce; there’s a huge chance something happened to them as part of the temporal anomaly.”

“Happened as in…?”

“Yeah.” Barry takes another cheeto. “Bad.”

And theeeere is the visible guilt. There isn’t exactly any great way for Wally to feel after his unintentional resurrection led to an unintentional…something else.

“…Ah.”

Barry shrugs. There isn’t anything they can do about it; short of rewinding time and shoving Wally back into the Speedforce, which has been shoved off the table with a great deal of force by all of the man’s former teammates, there’s no way to undo the accident that landed the poor alien smacking straight into good-old-fashioned American dirt.

“Don’t worry about the way it happened. It wasn’t your fault, and it sure wasn’t intentional on your part,” Barry points out, and offers the bag of Cheetos towards Wally. The snack is gone in microseconds. The curse of speedsters is really footing the bill of all their emotional eating.

“So, they’re…do we know what they are? Because they definitely shapeshifted fangs as soon as I found their little—whatever that is. Container? Unit? Under the table.” Wally traces the vague shape of the thing’s cerulean heart in the air. “One second I was holding a glass paperweight, and the next I was on the opposite end of a very angry shadow-snake. I think they would have done worse than bit me if it hadn’t had a clear escape route out of there.”

Barry balls the empty bag and shoves it into a pocket. If he litters in the Watchtower, it’s going to be water cooler gossip for years. Bats would never let anyone defile his super cool, super-secret base with garbage without his own form of petty revenge. “Medical says it likely serves as an organ for him,” he says instead, since monologue about how inconvenient it is to be held responsible for his own actions wouldn’t be professional. “So. Think of it less as a container; think of it more as a turtle shell. Medical is pretty sure it’s a part of their body. Messing with it would really hurt them.”

“Yeowch.”

“Mmhmm. One micro-sec.” Barry darts out and away from his nephew; he just remembered he has bottled smoothies in his room. In the time it takes him to fetch two from his mini-fridge—one of his favorite flavor and one of Wally’s—and circle back, the dust motes in the air have hardly even realized he’s gone. They hardly drift even upon his return. “Here.”

Wally catches it easily. To anyone else, Barry would barely have blinked away. To any other Speedster…Barry knows intimately how lethargic and thick time feels against his skull. Slowing down to a mortal, human speed can feel maddening. Sore. Viscerally and bone-shatteringly wrong in his skin, maybe.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Barry would do that and more for his family.

They drink their smoothies.

“You know,” Barry breaks back in, the thoughts of their previous conversation looming lightly in his mind, “Medical says that the fact that we sometimes see their—let’s call it a core—is really, really bad. It’s not a shock that they’re hiding. It would be like climbing in a closet when you’re so vulnerable that you don’t feel like you can defend yourself.”

The rim of Wally’s smoothie bottle drops from his lips. The man frowns. “Oh?”

Barry shrugs. “Imagine losing your skull so that your brain is exposed all the time. Imagine being a cell and having your cell wall break so your nucleus is exposed?”

They both wince at the image.

“Oh boy. And Bart is…playing? With that entity?”

His uncle snorts. “You tell me. I think you’ve seen more of them than I have at the moment. All I did was catch them hanging out in a conference room. I have to admit, the purring can get a little loud in the…” he makes a vague gesture that could mean anything from room to atmosphere to Speedforce.

Wally’s been mostly of the same mind—the physics of the entity, whatever they are, aren’t specifically third-dimensional. It might be related to how they only sometimes manifest, or how they manifest with only partial corporeality.

“It’s been at least some play and some games for him, I’m sure,” Wally admits, a smile pulling at his mouth nevertheless. “I spotted him going through a stim toy website before he suddenly and mysteriously had a mission on the other side of the planet. But I think most of his concern is the…”

Wally winces at the thought of the myriad of medical issues the entity’s faced since his arrival to Earth. Barry’s wince stretches to match. They both saw the report.

“…So it’s been a lot of food on Bart’s part. A lot of managing his care of them too; Superboy and Rob aren’t the most straightforward team in the world, but I think they’re largely keeping Bart in check on this one— not that they’re on base as much as Bart is.”

Wally smiles. It’s not a very happy smile, or very relieved of his earlier guilt, but it’s a smile nevertheless. That’s fine. Barry’ll work on the rest on Sunday; they’re due for a good luncheon out somewhere nice. Their JLA-approved food budget can foot the bill. Maybe…Indian? There’s got to be good food in Delhi they haven’t tried yet.

“At least J’onn’s back on base next week.” Wally sighs, crooked and a little weary. “Maybe this will finally get them to stop running every time someone gets within forty feet of them. Like, they realize they’re losing vital fluids, right? Wait, is Bart even giving them any water?”

“…I’m going to hold off on that worrying thought. I have a different one I’m sweating over. Do we even know if Bart will let our resident telepath get within forty feet of his new playmate?”

Wally groans, face in his hands. Barry can’t help but laugh a little—perhaps tinged with desperation.

Sidekicks. Always with the new problems. At least last time they had this problem, Kon could talk.

#The speedster clan is all here baby #and they are all Deeply Concerned #how they show their concern varies. But hey! They Care #and Caring is what matters :)#Bart Wally and Barry: hey can we get this one before Bats can? Yeah. Yeah! Let's try it #health and hybrids #Danny Phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #dcu crossover #faer fic #tw body horror #tw gore #tw medical #cryptid!au #spooky lad

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mutable-manifestation · 1 year

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Summer Vacation Summoning Shenanigans 2

idk when the batcave gets a Laz pit but the answer here is ‘not yet’ bc reasons

***

By the time Danny’s duplicate returns to him, Robin has finished - very thoroughly - tying up his captive ninja. And was now staring him down.

Red had moved to texting someone after ensuring Danny was belted in and putting the plane on some kind of autopilot - which, very cool.

He hadn’t been bored, though, looking over the plane interior with glee.

While the exterior design was…a bit much, the inside was sleek and high-tech. It was no rocketship, but going over which controls were similar and which differed and trying to guess what they all did was plenty entertaining.

He was less than half-way through them when he re-merged with his duplicate.

Luckily, Red and Robin were still occupied by that point, giving him time to focus on sifting through the memories.

He tries to stifle his laughter, disguising an escaped snort by pretending to cough into his fist.

Red apparently chooses that moment to be done with his phone (and damn, he sent some poor sob a book).

“Sorry about that; I had to update Batman.”

Danny let himself laugh at that.

“Bat-man? Not, like, Birdman or something?”

“Nope, the bat himself. Speaking of which; I was hoping you’d be willing to answer some questions?”

Robin chose that moment to plop into the seat next to Danny, who looked at him in askance.

“His vitals have stabilized; the tranquilizer has fully kicked in. There is no more need to worry about a surprise escape; by the time he awakes we will be back in Gotham.”

Danny hummed.

“So like, are you just dropping him off first? Or was the ‘taking me home’ thing a play on words that actually just meant ‘kidnapping me take 2: electric boogaloo?’ I mean, you don’t even know where I live; my place could be closer to here than to Gotham.”

“Your accent resembles nothing of Nanda Parbat,” Robin says.

Red picks up after him.

“No, no, we’re taking you back to your home,” he clarifies, shaking his head and x-ing his arms. “You’re from somewhere in the mid-western United States, right? Gotham is the first US city we’d hit flying this path.”

“Illinois,” he answers, squinting in thought as he searches his memory for a ‘Gotham’ or a ‘Nanda Parbat,’ which, ha, ‘Par-bat.’ “I take it we’re somewhere in, like, Europe or something?”

The Robins share a look.

“Where is the last place you remember being before you were kidnapped?” Red asks.

“Illinois,” Danny shrugs, settling back in his seat. “Anyway, you can just drop me near Chicago or something and I’ll take it from there.”

Red huffs a laugh. “No need for that. I gave Batman your name and description; he’ll have coordinates to where you need to go in no time.”

“Well, that’s…” ‘Inconvenient,’ he thinks to himself, hoping for the first time that this is actually a different universe so he doesn’t have to come up with an explanation to cover for how he somehow ended up abroad without including the whole ‘being summoned’ thing.

The last thing he needs is to give them a reason to put him through the Ghost Catcher.

“...nice,” he settles on. Unconvincingly.

“Do you know why you were taken?” Robin presses.

Danny opens his mouth to answer, but pauses.

“Yep!” he concludes, eyes crinkling with his smile. “I’ll even answer that question if you answer one of mine first.”

The smaller Robin narrows his eyes suspiciously, Red asking “What question?”

He turns away from Normal Robin to look at Red Robin.

“What’s up with the ‘flying things’ theme?”

Red slow blinks, Danny can practically hear the dial-up noise.

He was probably expecting worse in exchange for ‘hey what does the murder club want?’

The smaller Robin answers while he is collecting himself.

“The Robin title is inherited, passed down from the first. It is a reference to the costume colors. Batman chose his name and costume as a symbol of fear, to intimidate the criminals of Gotham.”

“Oooooh, so it’s like a gang thing!”

Red Robin makes a choking noise.

“What!? NO! I- that- we’re heroes! Batman is a founding member of the Justice League!” He manages, face painted in disbelief.

Robin, for his part, remains silent - though a brief glance out of the corner of his eyes reveals a pinched expression.

“Oh, right,” he nods along, deciding he is definitely not still in the same universe. Sweet, no worries about hiding the ghost powers then, especially since heroes were apparently enough of a thing to have some kind of support group or something.

“So does that mean you have bird-powers?”

“No,” Robin says. “And you haven’t answered my question yet.”

“Ah, right, Ra’s’ thing. He said he was trying to summon the ‘Lord of the Dead,’” Danny does air quotes along with the far-too-pretentious-title. Honestly, ‘Ghost King’ was bad enough.

“The ‘Lord of the Dead?’” Red echoes. “Summon? As in, with circles and blood-sacrifices and magic.”

“Yep,” Danny pops the p. “I wouldn’t worry too much though. He’ll probably be distracted trying to un-kidnap this guy and deal with whatever had his other guys running around like chickens with their heads cut off for a while yet.”

---------------------

Tim had left a call open to the batcave so the rest could listen in, and after Danny’s incredibly alarming answers about Ra’s’ current goal it was no doubt exploding with texts and suggestions in the groupchat. Good thing he muted it fully.

He feels a bit bad interrogating the guy, but time and memory don’t go well together. People often dismiss as unimportant things that are actually the key to breaking a case; the more thorough their questions, the more likely they prompted a memory that would give them the answers they needed.

Unfortunately, Danny didn’t seem to know much.

“Did Ra’s say anything about who this ‘Lord of the Dead’ is? Or why they were trying to summon him?”

“Nope!” Danny smiled. “Nothing about - who aside from the title, of course - or why, just that they did want to summon him. If you guys don’t have bird powers, what powers do you have?”

“We are not enhanced beyond what the average healthy human could achieve, though we are all highly trained in combat - some more than others - and skilled in detective work. We rely on skill, research, and preparation.”

And on and on; Danny giving uninformative answers then asking a question for each they’d asked on their ‘turn,’ and them giving carefully vague answers of their own.

One consolation is that he didn’t seem bored.

For someone who claimed to have woken up less than an hour ago on the wrong side of the planet he’s just…relaxed. Calm. Seemingly unaffected, down to his microexpressions.

No signs of shock.

Of course, he’d treated the Lazarus Pit as a kiddie pool.

And despite his words, he’d shown no recognition at the mention of the Justice League, and around half of his questions thus far had been about them.

Clearly something was up with him; whatever it was would probably explain the self-assurance.

He’d escaped from the League before they’d even known he was kidnapped, afterall. Tim and Damian really only solved the final hurdle for him. Even with most of LoA distracted with something, it was still impressive that he’d manage to slip whatever restraints and guard they’d undoubtedly had him under.

Which is, of course, when Damian asks.

“How did you manage to escape?”

Danny shrugs.

“Have you ever seen that thing that coyotes do where they get their leg stuck in a beartrap or something and they gnaw it off to escape?” he says, expression unmoved.

“You are a meta, then,” Damian concludes while Tim just stares at Danny in horror.

At that, Danny’s expression changes.

“A what?” he squints, uncomprehending.

“A meta - or metahuman - is someone with a meta-gene, which grants them superpowers. Like how Flash is so fast: that’s his meta ability,” Tim says. “You still had all your limbs when you…dove into-”

“Wait, wait, back up,” Danny interrupts. “To be clear: I did not gnaw off a limb. That was meant to be a joke. So Flash is a ‘meta.’ Is that, like, common?”

Tim was beginning to suspect this guy either had memory loss, was an unlucky alien who only landed recently - just in time to get kidnapped by the League of Assholes - or was just really sheltered.

He’d also suspect some kind of Pit demon, given where and how they found him, but he has so far been nothing but polite and cooperative - if a bit…chaotic. In terms of questions he’s asked.

“I’m kind of surprised they bothered to form a group if there are so few people with powers,” Danny mused after Damian filled him in on the statistics. “Especially if most of them are as minor as you said.”

“Even just one person with strong powers can spell disaster if left unchecked - the League aids response times in that regard. Besides, it’s not like metas are all there is to pay attention to - there are plenty of villains without meta abilities, intergalactic politics to deal with-”

“Intergalactic? Are you guys doing things in space!?”

Danny was suddenly very close, nose just a hair's breadth from touching Tim’s own.

He swallows quietly.

“Ah, occasionally? G-green Lantern is. A Green Lantern. They’re basically space cops, so that’s…more his thing. Though a previous Robin did have to deal with a Gordanian-Tamaranean conflict affecting a Tamaranean ally - Starfire.”

Danny leans away - just a bit - as he speaks, seemingly basking in the information like a cat in a sunbeam.

“You’re allies with an alien? Ancients,” he breathes. “There are aliens. So cool.”

“Tch, of course there are. I already informed you of Superman,” Damian huffs, causing Danny to whip towards him.

“Superman is an alien!?”

They’d also mention Batman and Superman being close allies, which apparently inspired Danny to let loose the sea of questions he’d been holding back.

“What’s his species called? Is Superman a translation of his actual alien name? You never showed me a picture; does he look human or is he totally different? What’s his planet like? Have you been there? Is he comfortable in Earth’s atmosphere or does he have to use environment-adjusting equipment? Or is it well suited to him? Is that why he has powers, actually? Because the difference in planet allows him to thrive? Or are they an inherent trait in his species? What’s his culture like? You said Green Lantern was ‘A Green Lantern;’ is he an alien too? Or is that the space cops’ names? Are most space cops aliens? What about the Tamaranean person - Starfire? And the Gordanians? Where are they all from are they all from the Milky Way or are some extra-galactic do they allhaveenvironmentalneedssimilartoorlessthanhumanscantheysurviveinthevacuumofSPACE-”

---------------------

Once they get Danny to pause for breath - which takes an impressively long time - they promise to answer his questions with a gentle reminder that they’re supposed to take turns asking things.

If Danny was cooperative before, he’s downright eager now. He listens with near-religious awe to every answer they gave.

When it’s their turn to ask a question he becomes unnervingly still and stares with an intensity that has Tim half-concerned they’ll catch on fire for every second they aren’t talking - though luckily between himself and Damian the pauses are minimal.

His answers are both more detailed and more focused.

If they ask if he saw any information about the summoning ritual, he only mentions catching a glimpse of ‘the summoning room.’ Asking what the room looked like nets a description of the columns’ styles and the general vibes, asking what things he saw in the room got them an exhaustive list, but if they wanted further detail they had to ask specifically about the item in question.

He had an awful lot of details for a guy who only ‘caught a glimpse.’

He also refused to give them details about what the circle looked like because ‘for all I know you could be lying about everything you’ve said so far and planning to use me in your own ritual as a sacrifice to summon the Lord of the Dead.’

He and Damian spend a few of their turns opening the internet on the batplane’s front window and showing him some articles and videos about themselves, Batman, Gotham, and the JL to get them to trust him.

He eventually says he’ll describe the circle to them if he can meet an alien.

Appealing to his sense of self-preservation by explaining the information would increase their odds of stopping Ra’s does not help, nor does appealing to his sense of ‘helping others.’

It’s an introduction or the highway.

Not the worst outcome, given how many aliens they know.

The rest of the flight is spent like this.

---------------------

Danny is having quite possibly the best day of his half-life - and life, if he’s being honest.

Aliens! The universe he’s in has aliens! And he gets to meet one! Probably!

If Ra’s requests something that isn’t outright evil he’s honestly, genuinely considering granting it (in exchange for something, of course. Having a cool home universe is enough for maybe a deal, not for a freebie. Maybe he can ask for a regularly scheduled summoning to talk to the aliens? And all of the information Ra’s has and will ever have on aliens? Ooooh).

Not that he’s going to make it easy on him, of course.

And wow he is loving the information exchange with the Robins - they’re telling him about aliens and he just has to, what, describe a chandelier? A book? His opinion on the pool?

They ask a surprising number of questions about the pool.

He gets twin dead-eyed stares when he asks if they’re thinking of installing a bird bath - yeah it cost him an alien question but there are only so many pool-related questions he can answer while ignoring the joke hanging right there.

He had to.

When they finally land and exit into what looks like the inside of a high-tech barn, he can’t help but think they might just be sour that they didn’t think of it first.

“Not to be judgy, or anything, but I’m not really getting cave vibes here,” he comments as he descends the final step from plane to floor, looking up once he’s clear to watch the roof finish folding closed over their heads.

“Because this isn’t the cave,” an unfamiliar voice says, melting out of the shadows in a corner to reveal a purple-cloaked woman.

“Wait, let me guess: Purple Robin? Purple Bat? Peafowl?”

Purple snorts good-naturedly and shakes her head.

“All good guesses, space cadet, but wayyy off base. It’s Spoiler, non-flying thing name haver extraordinaire.” She dips into a dramatic bow, eyes crinkled in what, even without her mouth visible, was obviously a grin.

“Ehhhh…” Danny tilts a hand side-to-side. “Spoilers can technically fly if you crash a car hard enough.”

“By that logic everything can be considered a flying thing,” Robin frowned.

“Well the Earth is hurtling through space at around half a million miles per hour chasing the sun through an endless void with no ‘ground’ in sight….”

“Well!” Red Robin ends the brief silence that had inspired. “We should probably head to the batcave, but for security reasons we can’t let you see how we get there-”

“Hey, does this smell funny to you?” Spoiler asks, holding up a bottle of what was almost definitely chloroform.

He can see Red and Robins’ mask eyes widening (somehow) and makes the split second decision to lean forward and take a deep breath of the bottle being held just high enough for him to stick his nose over it.

“Citrusy,” he says before pretending to fall unconscious.

***

*Timmy Turner’s Dad’s voice* “I’m respecting reality by acknowledging that chloroform doesn’t work like that but asserting my authority as The Author by making it work like that anyway”

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@bathildaburp, @cannibalisticphantom, @thegatorsgoose, @skulld3mort-1fan, @starmee-lodurrson, @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @osnii, @coruscateselene, @jaytriesstuff, @seraphinedemort, @ver-444, @impulsiveasshole, @meira-3919, @apointlessbox, @gunebugfic, @starsblader4rise, @screamingtofillthevoid, @may-rbi, @tired-yet-awaken, @readerzj, @lazy-bouqet, @the-church-grimm, @astirdreaming, @bun-fish, @punderfulfandoms, @ispyblu, @phoenixdemonqueen, @cutelittlebeanie, @we-ezer, @treepainting, @jerithe, @all-eyes-no-dragon, @addie-lover-of-stories, @overtherose, @akavincent, @nappinginhell, @naluforever3, @icepopstar5105us, @itsloveleo, @spooky-fm

Sorry if I missed anybody anyway here's part 2!

#dpxdc #chaotic summoned-by-Ra's Danny #Tag interlude #idk much about Spoiler except she's purple and kinda chaotic and maybe set of a gang war by accident once #Also idk if there’s already something like the sensory interference helmet or not #but if there isn’t: yes there is.#(think the thing that prevents superman hearing batman’s heartbeat [idk if that’s canon or fanon either tbh] but like #a helmet #Fucks with just the person wearing it - vision [the obvious one]#but also noise is silenced except something like an internal gyroscope thingy that messes with sense of direction #Idk #I'm not a scientist #Just roll with it #long post

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stealingyourbones · 1 year

Note

Offering a nice set of inked knuckle bones in a satin bag.

Phantom team gets stuck in DC universe indefinitely: Common Phandom (and possibly canon?) tidbit is that the Fenton parents have dropped their home into another dimension temporarily before. So, obviously, they are messing with things again and drop their house in Gotham while Sam and Tucker are staying over. No biggie. Just remember to stay inside when it's time to go back.

But Sam wants the gothic wardrobe updates and Tucker wants the tech. And Danny just wants away from his parents' anti-ghost lectures for a bit. Jazz offers to chaperone the outing as the team "adult" (not really an adult yet but she's trying to be a responsible older sibling) and make sure they get back before the parents return to the lab and potentially trip something to reverse the dimension hop.

Things don't go to plan. Villain attacks, parents heading back to the lab ahead of Jazz's (carefully analyzed and perfectly timed out "No, I do not have a control issue, tucker.") schedule, intercepted by curious vigilantes, general teens losing track of time or any variation/combo situation you can imagine. They did not make it back in time before the Fenton residence popped back out of existence and now they are stranded in Gotham. Even better, they lost contact with Sam's bank account and Tucker's service network when the Fenton house stopped acting like a bridge between dimensions. So now they are relying on what cash they have on hand and what Tucker can hardware hack on the fly until either Danny learns to make portals through dimensions or the parents actually remember their kids got left in the dimension that they may or may not have the space/time coordinates to revisit.

Worlds shittiest reverse home alone: you forgot to bring the kids back with you.

Oh man this could be fascinating to work with. Could you imagine?

Like they temporarily go and see one or two of the Gotham heroes/villains and make an odd first impression. The trio doesn’t think too hard on it. They wont be here ever again so why not cause a little bit of confusion and chaos?

Well sucks to be them because they’re now stuck. What sucks even more? Batman is absolutely trying to find the massive energy surge that randomly occurred in Gotham and who the cause of it was.

Not only do they have to hunker down and hope that their parents will remember to get them. Heck they don’t even know the time difference between their dimensions. They could be moving at a snail pace or super speed compared to their home dimension? With each unknown possibility they think of their hope of getting back home dims more and more.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #dc comics #writing prompts #dp x dc prompt #bones replies #anon #Ty for the bones!!!

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elizabethemerald · 1 year

Text

DP/DC Imbalanced Light

AO3

Duke was one of the first back to the Batcave when the message came through that Bruce was bringing in an injured child. He was quickly joined by the rest of the family. Most injured parties were brought straight to a hospital, no matter their age, so the entire Bat clan were curious about what made this case stand out. A potential new sibling was an all hands on deck sort of event.

Cass and Steph joined next, Dick was picking up Dr. Thompkins, Tim had been coordinating the Bats from the Cave so was already there. Jason and Damian would probably join later, they had been further out when the call came in but Duke doubted even the two angriest members of the family would miss out on the excitement.

Everyone currently in the cave gathered close when the Batmobile roared into the cave. Though they easily parted to allow Alfred through to Bruce’s side. The two of them pulled a young boy out of the side seat of the Batmobile. Duke grimaced behind his helmet. The kid may be the same age as Tim, or thereabouts, but he still looked far worse for wear. There was blood coating the front of his shirt and he looked far too small, like he hadn’t been eating properly.

With a gasp the boy in Bruce’s arms was jostled awake. He tried to squirm out of his hold, but Bruce managed to keep him in hand. Eventually the boy’s wild eyes settled on the Batfam and seemed to calm. He reached a shaky, blood covered hand out to the group as Bruce carried him toward the medical room in the Batcave.

“Signal? Wait, I need to talk to Signal! Signal!” The boy desperately cried, trying once again to fight his way out of Bruce’s hold.

Duke was honestly surprised that the kid was calling for him. Signal was hardly the best known of Gotham’s heroes and he felt like most kids were either interested in talking to one of the Robins considering they were usually closest in age, or to Nightwing because Dick was friendly. However with a kid clearly in distress Signal followed as Bruce carried the kid into the medical room.

“I need to talk to Signal.” The kid was telling Bruce, trying to push Alfred’s hands away from him.

“Danny, please-”

“No! I have to talk to him! I have to talk to him alone!”

Alfred looked carefully at the kid, Danny apparently, then stepped back.

“Please make the conversation quick. You are still in need of medical care, Master Daniel.”

“It’s Danny, and fine.”

Alfred and Bruce stepped out and the glass door of the medical room closed behind them. Duke however had eyes only for the kid in front of him. Danny was obviously in pain. He kept one hand pressed tightly to his chest, and a grimace on his face. There were also several scars that ran up his neck, the worst of which was the Litchenberg figures that crept up his neck and scattered across one side of his face, even going through one of his eyes. To Duke’s Ghost Vision the scars seemed to glow and pulse, as if still remembering the electricity that had caused them.

Danny looked at him desperately, fear marring his face as he nervously glanced towards where Bruce and Alfred had stepped out before meeting his gaze again. Duke wasn’t sure what he needed, but wanted to get this conversation over with before Dick arrived with Dr. Thompkins. She didn’t appreciate being kept waiting when she had a patient.

“So, your name is Danny right?” Duke asked.

“The forums say you’re a meta.” Danny asked instead of answering. His voice came out quiet and low as if he were telling a secret. “Is that true?”

Duke put out his hand, and created a small firework display across his palm with his photokinesis. It was the same trick he did when he ran into small scared children as Signal. Just something light and silly to break the tension and it did seem to bring Danny’s focus off his injuries.

“Yes, I’m a meta.”

“Everyone knows Batman hates metas.” Danny said, glancing nervously at the door again, his voice dropping further into a whisper. “Does he hate you? Are you forced to help him? Does he… do experiments on you?”

Duke let his hand drop out of sight of Danny as he lay on the bed in the med bay. He clenched his hand into a tight fist. Dammit Bruce. You and your stupid rules. He could see that Danny was clearly just about out of his mind with fear and just as obviously had some bad experiences that were weighing on him. Duke needed to calm him down enough for Alfred and Leslie to take of him and quickly. He took a deep breath and kept his voice soft as he started speaking.

“Batman doesn’t hate metas. He doesn’t like other heroes like Superman coming into Gotham when they don’t know how this city works. Many of our rogues are simply humans with mental illness. Even most of the goons are just poor people who are desperate for work. They don’t need some super powered demi-god smacking them down. And he’s eased up on that a lot recently.” Duke took a moment to gather his thoughts. He could hear Dick’s car driving into the cave and knew that Leslie Thompkins had arrived. “Batman has been nothing but kind to me since my parents died. He’s trained me to help protect the city I grew up in. He may not be perfect, but he won’t hurt you, and I won’t let him if he tries.”

Danny nodded a few times, his eyes downcast, as if trying to convince himself of something before he finally looked back up at Duke.

“I’m- I’m sort of like you.” Danny whispered. “I’m like a meta.”

The words seemed like they were physically painful for Danny to say, and considering how tightly most metas held onto the secret of their powers that wasn’t too surprising. Duke didn’t have the time to puzzle out what exactly “like a meta” meant as opposed to just being a meta, but he knew at least he could provide Danny with some comfort.

“Well, Danny, one meta to another, I promise you Batman won’t hurt you because of your power. While you’re here you’re safe.” Duke looked up as a knock sounded at the door to the med bay. He could see Leslie and Alfred standing on the other side of the glass door. “Agent A has helped me a lot when I’ve been injured and Dr. T has cared for a lot of people, including metas that have come through her clinic. You’ll be safe with them. May I let them in?”

Danny took just a moment longer to think about it before he nodded.

“Will you stay with me?” His words sounded so pained and scared that Duke couldn't help but agree immediately.

He opened the door for Alfred and Leslie, then turned his back to remove his helmet and apply a paper surgical mask. He scrubbed his hands just as the other two did before rejoining Danny at the bedside. Once the door was closed and the older two were getting ready, Duke addressed Danny.

“Is there anything about your physiology that would be different from a non meta?” He said the words loud enough to clue in the other two. Danny nodded and gripped the rails on the patient bed tightly in fear.

“My core temperature, heart rate and respiration rate are lower than a standard human’s.” He recited the words like he had rehearsed them many times. “My blood is considered a hazard and needs to be destroyed, preferably by incineration.”

“Is your blood radioactive?” Thompkins asked, her experience helping other metas would be invaluable with helping Danny.

“Radioactive?” Danny seemed confused by the question for a moment before shaking his head. “No, it’s uh, corrosive I think? Jazz didn't mention radioactivity when she gave me the script to memorize.”

Leslie carefully cut Danny free of his blood soaked hoodie and shirt. Duke again had to clench his hand into a fist at the sight of a Y shaped incision that spanned Danny’s entire torso. Like an autopsy. Or vivisection. The cut had been messily stitched and stapled closed, but Danny had clearly popped a few stitches when he panicked after seeing Bruce. Surrounding the largest injury were numerous scars. Small burns, stab wounds, the Litchenberg figures continued across his torso and several precise cuts that could only be the result of deliberate torture or experimentation.

Alfred raised his eyebrow, but didn’t comment as the two of them set to work examining the injuries. Leslie’s lips pressed into a thin line and she also kept her comments to herself. Danny seemed grateful for their reticence. Duke knew he had seen a lot of the worst of the worst during his time as a vigilante in Gotham, but this still pushed it to another level. Danny was as scarred as any of the Robins except for Jason.

The two healers worked quickly cleaning and dressing each of the wounds, though the largest still needed more work. The lights over head flickered with each deep breath Danny took as they cared for his injuries. Duke used his powers to keep the lights steady for their work.

“Master Danny, we will need to remove the old stitching and staples to properly close and stitch your largest injury.” Alfred said. “We can apply an IV to let you sleep through the procedure.”

Danny was already shaking his head.

“Doesn’t work on me.” He hissed out past his gritted teeth.

“We have meta-strength-”

“Doesn’t work on me.” Danny shook his head again. “Even the strongest painkillers and anesthetics burn off almost immediately.”

“You have an enhanced metabolism?” Leslie asked.

Danny shrugged, then pressed his head back against the pillow. “I was awake when mom did this to me, I can handle you fixing it awake too.”

He refused to look at anyone else in the room even as looks of fury and rage crossed each of their faces. He reached out blindly and Duke took his hand to hold. Leslie and Alfred grimaced but nodded. If they didn’t want Danny to bleed out they needed to fix the slap-dash stitches and staples.

Danny didn’t scream while they worked and while he gripped Duke’s hand tightly, he clearly wasn’t using even a portion of his full strength. The metal of the bed frame squeaked and whined in protest as he gripped it hard enough to leave a handprint in the metal.

Whatever Danny’s ability was combined with his own Ghost vision to create disturbing images flash around Danny’s body, like an after image on a dark night. Neither Alfred nor Leslie reacted, so it was clear Duke was the only person who could see them. Each lingered in his eyes for a moment before fading to nothingness before being replaced by the next.

He saw two people, one a woman and the other man with a build similar to Bruce’s leaning over Danny’s body, blades in their hands and macabre smiles etched into their faces. He saw a flaming crown burning in the air over Danny’s head. He saw two teens Danny’s age and someone only slightly older trying to lift and carry Danny while obviously fighting with someone.

Frozen fractals appeared in the afterimages, growing with each after image into twisting and writhing tentacles. This was the most painful part of the operation as the two healers worked to pull out a staple that had gone through his skin into his sternum. Danny arched his back, his breathing coming in slow pants. When he opened his eyes they glowed like Jason’s did. Danny’s ears grew pointed and where he was biting his lip to keep from screaming his fangs grew long and pointed. Finally Danny couldn’t take any more and blacked out fully, his eyes rolling back into his head.

For a short time the afterimages still burned their way into Duke’s vision. The fractal tentacles continued to writhe before fading. A man appeared before Duke, looking down at Danny’s body in distress. He was wearing a long, hooded cloak. In the next flash he was suddenly an old man, looking beaten and worn by the passage of time. Then he was suddenly a young child, younger even than Damian, staring down at Danny with that same distress clear on his face. Finally the man returned to his original age and looked up to meet Duke’s eyes. His head tilted to the side in curiosity before he glanced down at a pocket watch that was hanging from his cloak and gave it a firm nod and disappeared.

The last of the flickering images slowly vanished as well, Alfred and Leslie still not noticing them at all, as the two of them finished their work and settled a blanket over Danny’s heavily bandaged torso. Duke patted Danny’s limp hand with his own before he left the med bay. The rest of the Bat fam were gathered around, but Duke made his way straight to Bruce. As he went Cass came and put a supportive hand on his shoulder. He wondered idly what his body language was telling her that had her reaching out at this moment.

“You need to do some serious PR work on Batman’s views of metas.” Duke said shortly to Bruce. He didn’t really care what his mentor’s motivations were, they needed to change and they needed to let the public know.

“The kid’s a meta?” Jason asked, leaning forward.

Duke nodded, still not taking his eyes off Bruce.

“I don’t know what he thought you would do to him, either run him off or cut him open.” Duke hesitated as he examined the momentary grief that appeared in Bruce’s eyes. “Again. Cut him open again. Someone vivisected him.”

A sharp noise sounded as something snapped in Jason’s hands. Red Hood had green light blazing in his eyes as Dick immediately moved to grab his shoulder, whether to comfort him or to hold him back, Duke didn’t know. Bruce leaned forward, his face once again stoic.

“What are your thoughts on his abilities?” He asked.

If Duke wasn't so suddenly exhausted he would either roll his eyes or join Jason in trying to tear Bruce a new one. Of course when he’s distressed he falls back on old, bad habits. Examining threats and planning counter plans.

“Alfred and Leslie know enough about him to care for him for now. You can ask about the rest of his powers once he’s up and about.” Duke said. He wasn’t going to reveal Danny’s clearly hard fought secrets. “The one thing I will say is that while we can expect him to be fragile, we cannot treat him with kid gloves. Danny’s got more scars than anyone I’ve ever seen who isn’t a bat. He’s clearly a fighter and deserves to be treated like one.”

Duke turned away. He needed to be done. He needed to just shut his brain off for a little.

“I’m taking the next couple of days off patrol. Can someone cover for me?”

He was half afraid that someone would accuse him of trying to cheat his way into the spot of best brother for their new potential sibling. Instead Stephanie and Dick immediately volunteered to help cover some of the daylight patrols.

Duke walked away, calling the shadows of the cave to him. With a family half raised or trained by ninjas they were all used to using the shadows and darkness to their advantage. But none of them could command the shadows and make the darkness answer their call like Duke could. The darkness of the cave swallowed him, hiding him completely from sight as he searched for some place to sit and think about everything he had just seen. Everything that Danny must have gone through.

@starkcravingmad, @blacksea21090, @rainybyday

#Danny Phantom #batman #duke thomas #mistaken identity #team phantom researched Gotham before Danny left to hide and recover there #they determined that Signal would be someone safe to possibly reach out as long Danny could pretend he was a meta not a ghost #let me know what you think #and please reblog!

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poke-me-with-a-stick · 1 year

Text

Chapter 18 of ‘Artificial Wingman’!

For the full story, click Here!

Enjoy!

---

Jason landed soundlessly into the apartment, his tired mind already running through different plans and scenarios. Absently, he tugs his helmet off, running his fingers through his hair as he thinks. He knew that the most logical move would be to get ahold of Harley somehow. If they wanted any chance of finding this teen before something more dangerous happened, then they needed to talk to Harley. Worst case, she dropped Demon Brat's boyfriend off somewhere in Gotham, leaving him to wander around by himself.

Best case, she still had him and was just hiding out somewhere, licking her wounds. If that were the case though, he could only hope that the teen hadn't wandered off on his own. It would be a pain to have to comb through all of Gotham's security and CCTV footage for a teenager who had no idea where he was going.

'I'm getting ahead of myself,' he shook his head. 'First things first, I need to tell Jazz.' Sighing, he turns towards the living room, pausing when he doesn't see the bright ginger haired girl anywhere. "Jazz?" He called out, turning towards his kitchen. Nope, also empty. 'Maybe she's in the bathroom?' The man started down the hall, glancing through the darkened doorways of his apartment. All the doors were opened, lights off, just as they had been when he left.

A bit worried now, Jason hurried back to the living room, rounding the couch in hopes that she had just fallen asleep or something. That wasn’t the case, he found. The couch was empty. A curse slipped from him when he realized she was gone. "Fuck. Fuck!" He groaned, dropping his head into his hands. Damn it! Why did he think for a second that the girl searching for her missing brother would just stay put?

"What are you groaning about, Todd?" Damian asked, slipping through the opened window. The teen must have gotten impatient, waiting for him to return to the roof.

"She's gone." Jason mumbled. The teen scoffed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall, his foot twitching slightly.

"What did you say? I cannot understand your mumbling. Speak up!" Demon brat demanded, glaring.

"I said, she's gone." Jason finally lifted his head from his hands, shooting his own glare at the teen. "She must have figured out he left before we got back or something." Turning his back on the teen, he searched the small space for anything the woman might have left behind. She had to have left a clue, a note or something…

"...bingo!" Jason exclaimed, opening the laptop she had left on the coffee table. Lifting the screen had made a piece of paper fall out, yellow paper fluttering to the floor. He was quick to grab it, crumpling it in his hast as he unfolded it.

Damian hurried over, his impatient yet disinterested mask forgotten as he leaned over his brother's shoulder. After a moment he huffed in annoyance. "What does it say? I can't see it over your shoulders." He hissed. Despite the tense circumstances, Jason felt a small smirk work its way onto his face.

Part of Jason wanted to tease his brother, but the smarter part of him didn't want to be on the business end of a sword. Instead, the man shifted to let the teen see it easier as he read Jazz's neat cursive script aloud. "Jason, if you're reading this, please don't be too mad. The Dot on the screen started moving, and I'm going after it. I'll try to meet you back here. If I don't, these were Danny's last coordinates." Below her neat scrawl, was a set of numbers. He really didn't have to think very long on where those coordinates would lead him.

"Looks like Harley took Danny home with her. Well, that makes things a bit…" Jason turned to look at his brother, only to find the teen gone. He didn't have to be a genius to know where he went. "...easy. Damn it!" He groaned again, fighting the urge to bang his head into something. Why did everyone want to disappear today? Was it too much to ask that someone just sit and talk a plan out? ‘Oh jeez, he was starting to sound like Bruce.’

The man ignored the thought, not really wanting to go down that particular path right now.

Pulling out his phone, Jason scrolled through his contacts until he found the one he wanted. Pressing it, he held his phone to his ear, praying she would pick up.

"...Hello?" A feminine voice asked cautiously.

"Hey, Ivy." The man couldn't help the small, tired grin that wormed its way onto his face. "So, um. Funny story."

—

The city was a blur beneath Damian as he moved, jumping from rooftop to rooftop and running telephone lines effortlessly. He didn’t bother to look where he was going, trusting his instincts to keep him from stumbling as he parkoured through Gotham. Sweat beaded on his brow, trailing down his mask before drying in invisible, sticky paths due to the harsh wind beating at his face.

Distantly, in the back of his mind, a voice that reminded him too much of his Father urged him to stop, to slow down and think this through. Logically, he knew that the best plan of action would be to get into contact with Dr. Isley and Quinn first, to check on Danny’s well-being and to garner permission to enter their home and retrieve him. But he wasn’t running on logic at the moment, was he?

It was almost like there was a haze over his mind, blocking all rational thoughts. Vaguely, he wondered if this was the true effect of the Love Potion, but the thought fled as soon as he acknowledged it, driven off by other, more prominent thoughts. All he could truly focus on were thoughts about Danny. Most of those thoughts were worrying for the teen’s wellbeing, if he was okay, if he had been hurt at all, if he had eaten anything. His other thoughts were about what he would do if he didn't like any of the answers to those questions. ‘It wouldn't be that hard to sneak into Arkham and break Joker's spine, would it?’

After what felt like hours of movement, but in reality was probably no more than half an hour, Damian spotted his target location. Harleen Quinzel and Pamela Ives's apartment was on a less populated side of town, and covered in lush plant life. More vegetation than any other part of Gotham. From an outside perspective, it was probably beautiful, the old brickwork covered in climbing and creeping flowers and ivy, small gaps exposing windows and occasional reddish gray blocks.

A flash of red hair was all the prompting he needed to hurl himself at one of the blank spots of the building. Sadly, the teen's dramatic entrance was slightly dampened when the woman slid the glass open, allowing him to twist and roll gracefully to his feet. The instant he regained his balance, he turned towards the woman, body thrumming with anxious energy even as he stared her down.

Isley blinked at him, her phone held loosely in her hand. After a moment, the shock faded from her expression. The woman sighed and raised the phone back to her ear. "You really weren't kidding, were you?" She asked, sounding exasperated. From where he stood, Damian couldn't quite make out what was said in return, but he did recognize the voice. It would seem that Todd had made that phone call after all. "Listen, thanks for the heads up, but I have to go." Isley turned back towards the opened window, pulling it shut again with a sharp click. "Yeah, I'll call you back in a bit. Take a nap or something until then, alright? You sound exhausted." She hung up, turning back to Damian.

She looked like she was about to say something, probably to address Damain's presence in her kitchen, but the teen was quick to speak first. "Where is he?" The teen demanded.

She gave him a look, one that he was sure she had given Quinn before, before she sighed. "Of course that's what you're here for." She muttered to herself, bringing her free hand up to rub at her temple. Straightening her back, she gestured towards the doorway. "The kid's in there. But there's something you should probably know-" He was off before she could finish her sentence. She growled something behind him, clearly annoyed, but followed him as he darted through her apartment, coming to a stop just at the doorway to the living room. There, laying on an old couch with his head in his sister's lap and two hyenas nudging persistently at his hands, was Danny. All at once, the overwhelming anxiety that he had been feeling all day faded, leaving a content and relieved sort of exhaustion in its wake.

He stood there, shoulders slumping as the tension they held was released, and only really acknowledged the fact that there were other people in the room when he saw a shadow shift out of the corner of his eye. Immediately his guard was up, the teen snapping around with a knife in hand to glare at the person sneaking up behind him. Instead of flinching or running like people usually did when confronted with his blade, Harley Quinn blinked surprisedly before bursting out into loud gales of laughter. The sudden noise caused Jasmine to jump, her gaze darting around for the source of the sudden commotion, which in turn made Danny jolt, the teen letting out a grumbling whine at the unexpected movement. Shooting Quinn a scathing look, Damian turned back to the siblings.

"Danny?" He called out cautiously, inching his way closer to the couch.

Almost immediately Danny shot up, lilting dangerously to the side as he straightened up to the best of his ability. Jasmine gave a startled yelp as her brother began to tumble off the couch, hands outstretched to catch the teen. Damian was faster though, dashing quickly across the remaining space between him and the halfa. Gripping the teen's arms, Damian was quick to pull him back up. Danny didn't even seem to mind that he almost fell to the floor, instead throwing his arms around Damian's shoulders in a poor imitation of a hug, pulling the vigilante closer with surprising strength. "Robin!" He trilled happily, awkwardly clutching Damian as close as possible. "Wh'n d'ou get h're?" His slurred words had Damian shooting his sister an alarmed glance.

Jasmine, who had stood up and moved out of the way, gave him a tired smile. "He was dosed with something. I still don't know what though." She scratched the side of her head in a confused sort of gesture. "Had to be a strong substance, to affect him like this."

Damian nodded, shifting Danny around a bit so that he could sit in the woman's recently vacated seat. Danny twisted with him, spine turned at what would be a worrying angle for a normal person in an effort to keep his grip on the vigilante. With a bit more shifting and cajoling, both teens finally settled down comfortably, Damian sitting upright while Danny laid with his head cushioned in his lap.

With a sigh, Damian let his eyes rove over Danny's relaxed form, taking in the multitude of bandages that covered his wrists and ankles. "Are you alright, Danny?" He asked the teen.

Danny nodded happily, a rumble emanating from his chest. "Y'eh," he grunted, tilting his head down to look over his own body. "I th'nk so. Don' feel an'thing." His hand inched its way up his arm to pick curiously at the bandage wrapped securely around his wrist, only stopping when Damian's hand settled atop of his.

"Don't pick at it." Damian scolded him, bringing his hand back to his side and gently flicking his forehead. The teen pouted in response. The both of them were so entranced in their own little world that they didn’t notice the odd tension that had filled the room around them.

“M’kay~” Danny hummed, snuggling closer to the teen. “M’glad y’re h’re.” He smiled widely up at him, flashing his fangs. “I m’ss’d you!”

Damian couldn’t stop the soft smile that replaced his usual scowl. “I missed you too.” He admitted quietly. If the giggle he got in response warmed his face a bit, well, there was no one to call him out on it. And it would be heavily denied if they tried.

—

"Should we go?" Jazz whispered, having crossed the room to stand next to Harley. The woman merely shrugged in response. Jazz took that as a yes, quickly turning and leaving the room. Harley didn't move from her spot, watching the lovebirds on her couch as Robin fussed over the hazed teen.

"Harley!" Ivy hissed from the doorway. Harley stuck her tongue out good naturedly, but still didn't move. Her girlfriend rolled her eyes before coming forward and grabbing her wrist, gently tugging her from the room.

"Aww! I wanted to watch the lovebirds!" She whined, digging her heels in half heartedly.

"Yeah, I know. But I really don't feel like bandaging you up when Robin runs out of patients and stabs you." Ivy retorted, depositing Harley on one of the kitchen barstools.

Jazz glanced over at her, one eyebrow raised. "Is it bad that I can't tell if that was a serious statement or not?" The redhead asked, a tired grin prominent.

"Ehh," Harley shrugged. "Not really." She stretched out across the kitchen island, tapping a random pattern out on the marble. "But he would have probably stabbed me. He's a very stabby kid." Jazz didn't look the least bit alarmed by that statement, only sighing as she nodded.

"Yeah, that doesn't really surprise me. Danny seems to have a bit of a type, when it comes to people who could probably maim him."

Well, there was most definitely a story there. "Oh?" Harley asked, tilting her head playfully. "I don't suppose you would be willin' to tell me 'bout that?"

Jazz seemed to ponder it for a minute before a sly smile slipped onto her face. "You know what? Yeah, I'd be more than happy to tell you. A little sisterly payback seems to be in order anyways." Oh yeah, Harley liked this girl. "So, a few years ago, Danny had a crush on this girl named Valerie…"

—

Jason sighed, letting his head drop into his hands. Relief warned with his exhaustion as he set down his phone. Damian was already there, probably holed up in a corner of Harley and Ivy's apartment scowling or something, so at least he didn't have to worry about that. Ivy had told him to take a nap, which he was seriously considering at the moment.

Sure, he had lasted a lot longer on much less than three or four hours of sleep, but with all the twists and turns the past day or so had taken? He really wanted to take a break. Besides, it wasn't like Damian and his dimension hopping boyfriend would be going anywhere else tonight. Meeting up with them could definitely wait until tomorrow.

A tap on the window had him regretting being hopeful. Of course, the moment he decides to actually take care of himself for once, the universe throws him a curve ball.

'Maybe they'll go away,' Jason thought hopefully, sitting completely still. The silence stretched on for a few minutes before a second, more forceful tap sounded. The man couldn't help the groan that escaped him as he lumbered to his feet reaching the window in a few long strides.

All the harsh words that itched to get out fled his mind the moment he opened the window. Sitting patiently on the fire escape, with a well worn messenger bag and a classic black duffle bag, was Cass. She was trusted up in her vigilante best, mask hiding whatever expression was on her face.

Jason fought the urge to bang his head on the window seal, feeling his nap opportunity slip further and further away. "Please tell me there isn't a head or something in there." He quipped in lieu of voicing any of his grievances.

Cass's shoulders shook slightly with her silent laughter as she shook her head no. "No heads," she signed. "But something too important to keep at the manor. Damian left this in his room." She held up the messenger bag. "And this is something important." She gestured to the duffle.

Sighing, Jason stepped back, letting his sister slip through. "I don't suppose I could get a nap in before we talk, could I?" He questioned.

She tilted her head in thought. "I don't see why not."

"Awsome." Honestly, he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. "Will you be okay alone here?"

"Yeah," she perched on his couch, grabbing the TV remote and flipping through the channels. "Take your time, Jason. You look tired."

This was why Cass was his favorite sibling. "You're the best." He told her earnestly, already heading for his room.

She smiled behind her mask as she watched him leave, waiting until she heard the door close with a soft click before turning back to face the TV. 'Yeah,' she thought, pulling her mask off as she settled more comfortably into her spot, ‘I know.’

---

(I know that there are probably some spelling/Grammar mistakes, but its okay because I tried my best!)

For the lovely person who made the prompt for this story, as well as the amazing people who follow along!

@halfblackwolfdemon @manapeer @xxwintrynightzxx @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 @blu-lilac @academicpurposes @secretdestinywerewolf @passivedecept @naluforever3 @postit-nope @spiteismymiddlename @2t-productions @plague-daisy @feet-achy @bubblecookies16 @thesapphiredragon13 @justwannabecat @magicalcollecter @adeniumdream @amuseofminds @lupagrim @readerkayden @dr-syko-pharm-4 @ladythugs @angelheartgamer @markthespot68 @kyrianclawraith @michikoy-yuki @servasvictoria02 @your-emo-nightmare @vala-dreams @scarlett-green-rose @t1dwarrior-of-earth @charlie-the-frogie @akikoyuii @mysticalcomputerdetective @roseuniverse999 @im-totally-not-an-alien @thefearfullone @weird-droplet-309 @jaytriesstuff @raventao @jacquelynwinchester @dragongoblet @tlise21 @longlivethefallen @the-archer-goddess @temple-of-jalebi @adepresseddwightsblogofjunk @plainly-colorful @the-legalHe-shipper @49saltpeppershakers @igotafewbadideas @tumbling-darkling @sparklygardenbouquet @sarcastic-yami @blueneko9314 @starscreamlover @liedboutmurder @do3y @roze-realm @some-mildly-happy-human @yinari-uchiha @azuera @chaoticmistake @altairsarts @kawaiikenna @heartsong18 @thetoyboxs @tricksovertreats @mnemovoid @lim4b3ans @horribly-lost-and-gay @keimiwolf @dryeraseslime @joey394

#danny phantom #dc x dp #danny phantom x dc #batman x danny phantom #batman #dead serious #danny phantom x batfam #danny phantom x damian wayne #love potion #miscommunication #long post #fic on ao3 #Artificial Wingman

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 year

Text

A Recipe for Disaster (Chap. 10)

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | Pt. 6 | Pt. 7 | Pt. 8 | Pt. 9 | AO3

AAHHH!!!! I've had the majority of the wedding scene written since i started planning this AU, so you get two chapters in a row 😈 next chap will be the last and will include the coronation and a bit of an epilogue

Steve wakes up uncomfortable, but warm.

He nuzzles his face into his pillow an–why is his pillow scratchy?

Blinking his eyes open, he sees Eddie looking down at him. “Good morning, sweetheart.” Eddie says, his voice low and raspy with sleep.

Steve smiles sleepily, pushing his face back onto Eddie’s chest. “We stayed out all night.”

“We did…” Eddie’s voice has a smile to it, and his arm tightens around Steve’s shoulders..

Wait.

Steve throws himself upright “We stayed out all night!” Eddie’s hand is rubbing Steve’s back as he has his short panic attack, and Steve turns to look at him.

Steve catalogs the other man; He cannot be comfortable, and he stayed like that all night? His upper back and head are propped up on the trunk of the tree behind him, and from the look of the roots around him, he must have a big chunk of one digging into his lower back right now. Eddie doesn’t seem phased by that though, he only looks concerned for him.

Steve smiles, his panic settling into tired laughter as he hunches forward and puts his head in his hand. Eddie sits up beside him, crossing his legs and pulling Steve into his side. He feels more than hears Eddie's chuckles, and definitely feels the brush of what could only be his lips against the shoulder of his hoodie.

Steve rubs his eyes clear of their sleep gunk and looks out around the lake, seemingly glowing in the soft pink light of the sunrise, the fog catching the rays as it rolls over the glass-smooth water.

He stops on an odd sight though, There is a man rowing a boat a good ways away. Steve squints. “There’s a man on that boat.” he says aloud.

“Hmm?” Steve feels Eddie turn his head to look, keeping his cheek pressed to his shoulder. “Probably just a fisherman.” He turns back to place his lips on Steve’s shoulder, sending a thrill through him.

Yeah, that could make sense. They are a ways off from the palace, so this could be a random citizen, or maybe a palace worker getting in some early fishing before going into wo–

Steve watches as the man hastily sets the oar handles down into the boat, and fishes around for something at his feet, not taking his eyes off the two of them as he does. Steve’s stomach starts to tighten as he waits, starting to lean away from the man on instinct even though he must be at least 50 yards away.

The man finally gets a grip on what he was looking for and lifts it into Steve’s line of sight.

His stomach instantly turns to lead and drops down into his feet. Past his feet. And his heart is quick to follow.

Steve gulps. “With a video camera?” a legit video camera too. One of the big ones that are usually reserved for members of the media.

Eddie freezes beside him, doesn’t look up when Steve turns his head to him.

That’s all he needs.

“You’re pathetic.”

Steve throws Edmund off of him and stands, yanking the rest of his blanket out from under the dazed man.

He can hear Edmund scrabble in the dirt to get up behind him as he stalks off toward Sandy.

“No, Stevie, wait! I have no idea–”

“You know, it’s really a shame you didn’t get me naked last night, huh? You motherFUCKER.” Steve turns halfway and throws his wadded up blanket in Edmund’s face, leaving him to struggle with it as Steve jogs the rest of the way to Sandy. Seeming to know the exact mood he’s in, Sandy is also ignoring Danny beside her, and nips at him when he gets too close to her.

“Steve, wait, I have nothing to do with this! Stevie, please, hold on!” Steve hears his voice crack.

It’s the most coordinated he’s ever been, throwing his foot into one stirrup, the other over the saddle, and giving Sandy a nudge forward in one fluid motion.

“Steve, you have to believe me, that’s not my boat!”

“You know what, Edmund? Have a nice life.” Steve doesn’t look at him, can’t look at him.

He nudges Sandy with his heels twice more and she takes off, running hard and fast back to the stables. Lucky for him too, because the tears that betray him and fall on their own either fly off his face or dry out almost instantly.

Everything between leaving Edmund under that tree, to him bursting back into his room is a blur.

There were trees rushing by him in one second, then he was handing over Sandy’s reins to a very confused Gustav in the next, and now he’s here.

And so is Joyce.

And Robin (Who is pulling herself out from under his covers).

“Steve? What is going on?” Joyce asks, looking him up and down.

Steve opens his mouth to say…something…but is cut off by Murray coming into the room.

“Prince Steve, I think you should see this.” Murray goes straight to his TV and turns it on.

Oh no.

“After years of boring royals, Genovia finally has a world class scandal!” the voice of that god awful woman from the local morning gossip channel filters through the TV and into Steve’s ears.

He feels like he’s going to pass out.

The whole screen is dedicated to the view that the camera man had, showing everything. Realizing the camera was there, Steve throwing himself from Eddie’s embrace, and onto Sandy’s back.

The whole time the video is playing back, that woman’s voice is narrating “What will Princess Nancy have to say about this? Will she stay or will Lord Muñoz be Genovia’s new King? Maybe we'll see the continued reign of Queen Joyce!”

The footage stays on Eddie a for a good second or two before it cuts back to the hostess and Steve kicks himself for feeling a pang in his heart from how heartbroken and dejected Eddie looked after he left.

“No matter what, it’s out of the frying pan and into the fire for Prince Steve. Keep your eggs sunnyside up!”

Steve crumples to the floor head between his knees and arms over his head.

His ears are ringing.

Someone is rubbing his back.

He hears Robin’s voice beside him “I’d like to tell her what she can do with her eggs.” she must be the one rubbing his back.

Her ministrations pause for a moment.

Robin’s hand leaves and Steve feels a presence sit down beside him.

“So?” It’s Joyce.

Steve lifts his head and rests his chin on his arms, now crossed over his knees. “I got played.” He sniffles, his face is wet.

“Uh huh.” he can see Joyce nodding in his peripheral. “The real question is, do we still have a wedding?”

If that question didn’t alone make a new flood of tears threaten to spill over, seeing Nancy bursting into the room absolutely did.

Steve can’t even register that she doesn’t even look mad before his vision is blurred out and his face is scrunched up. “Nancy! Nancy, I am so sorry.” She touches his shoulder, but he jerks away and snaps up to his feet as fast as he can, backing away from her. “Please Nancy, please know I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I am so sorry, I hope we can still be friends after I leave Genovia–”

“Steve, wha–” Robin sounds concerned but Steve can barely think, barely function, he just keeps backing up until he hits the wall.

“Please, Nancy, I promise it wasn’t all bullshit, I really do care for you,” he just needs to shuffle a little faster.

“Steve I care for you too, what are you–”

“I’m sorry, so sorry, you can be happy with Jonathan now..” he bolts to his ensuite and locks the door behind him. Sliding down the back side of the door and just dissolves against it.

You ruin everything.

“Steve?!” Robin’s voice is muffled through the door, she sounds concerned.

You’re Pathetic.

“Steve, please come out and talk to us! I still think this marriage is a good idea.” Nancy’s voice is next, calmer, but she sounds bored, like she is talking to a child.

You’re disgusting.

“Steve, darling, please come out.” Joyce’s voice comes last, she sounds so disappointed

You think these people really care for you?

He can’t take this anymore. He lets out a noise that’s more scream than anything, and suddenly the tile floor seems like a great place for a nap.

—-

“Lady Sinclair? What are you doing outside Lord Muñoz’s room?” She hops up on her feet and pulls Hopper around the corner.

“He didn’t do it.” Erica looks up at Hopper; she has a shocked, somewhat sad look on her face.

“I’m sorry?”

“Eddie didn’t do it, he’s been yelling to his dad about the lake thing since he started packing. His dad called the paparazzi..”

Hopper processes that information, and files it away. “I’ll make sure to tell Steve. You are not to tell him yourself, promise?” He sticks out his pinky to her and she looks at it incredulously.

“What do I get?”

“I’ll tell you a secret of mine.”

“I already know you and the queen have something going on.” she crosses her arms. “That’s what happens when you slow dance in an empty ballroom in a palace full of people.”

“Fine, you’ve got me there. Tell you what, you don’t tell Steve about Lord Muñoz, and you can tell him about myself and her majesty.”

Erica grins and locks his pinky with his.

Once she runs off, Hopper moves to knock on Edmund’s door.

“Yes dad, I’ll be home later tonight. Bye.”

Hopper knocks as soon as he hears the call end.

“Come in?”

“Hello Edmund.”

“Hopper.” Edmund looks scared seeing him in the doorway. He puts his hands up and takes a step back “I swear it wasn’t me, I would never want to hurt Steve, I promise! He’s so important to me, I just wanted a taste of the life I could’ve had with him and–and–” He’s stopped by his own throat choking him up. He clears his throat and continues on “Genovia will still have their rightful king, he’s going to marry Nancy…and I’m so in love with him.” Eddie finishes softly, looking at the floor.

Hopper steps forward and Eddie flinches, looking back up at the other man “I knew I wasn’t going to be disappointed in you.” Hopper says, clapping a hand to his shoulder.

“Edmund, you absolute motherfu–” Robin bursts in behind Hopper, Nancy at her side.

“Oh good, Hopper’s already here. Now we don’t have to explain anything.”

“Explain what, Your Highness?”

“Why you may or may not have found Lord Muñoz dead in his quarters.” She shrugs and Robin stalks forward toward him, a baseball bat (‘Where did that come from??’) in her hand.

Hopper, bless him, doesn’t react. He just puts a hand out to stop her from closing in on Eddie.

“He’s leaving today.”

Eddie looks at Nancy. “Nancy, I’m so sorry for the grief this’ll cause you two; I’m sure Steve won’t have anything to do with me after this so you won’t have to worry about seeing me around anymore.”

“Good.” Robin turns around immediately, hefting the bat onto her shoulder and waltzing back out the door.

“I told you nothing good would come of it if you were spotted together.” Nancy scolds, and he nods. “We were all rooting for you Edmund, no matter how weird that sounds. We were. We told you as much.” She takes a deep breath. “Goodbye, Eddie.” and with that, she too leaves.

Hopper places a big hand on his shoulder and Eddie looks up at him. “I will have your uncle come down to see you off if you’d like.”

Eddie’s throat tightens up so completely he can’t breathe. All he can do is shake his head.

Hopper nods. “I will come collect you in ten.” he pats Eddie’s shoulder and he too takes his leave.

As soon as the door is closed behind him, Eddie sinks to his knees, to his elbows. Crumpling up into a ball, hands on the back of his head, tears slipping silently off his nose and into the carpet.

—-

Steve finally gets himself under control a good five hours later.

He immediately wants to go back into the bathroom at the sight of the four people still there after his tirade. They all turn to face him.

“Steve,” Robin is the first to him, moving so fast it was like she’d teleported straight to him. “Can I touch you? I want to give you a hug.” She asks, searching his face.

If there were any tears left in him, they would’ve sprung forth at that. But he was empty.

He nods and she pulls him down to her immediately and holds on tight. He holds onto her and looks over her shoulder. Joyce, Nancy, and Dustin are all there, the former two looking at him in pity, and Dustin looks– “Dusty, have you been crying?”

Steve removes himself from Robin and moves to Dustin, holding out his arms. Dustin’s face scrunches up and he throws all his weight into Steve “Steve I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I’m related to that asshole.” Steve hugs him tighter “Wayne told me last night, and now he does this shit? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, Dustin, buddy, it’s not your fault. It’s mine.” He pulls back and Dustin lets him clean off his face with his sweater sleeve. Steve rubs it all over his face, making Dustin huff out a laugh and back away with a sad smile.

“Steve?”

He turns his attention to Nancy and his stomach shoots up from where it’s been in his feet since this morning, only to shoot back down again.

“I don’t know if you heard me before, but I am still here for you, for this.”

He thinks back, “I thought you sounded bored, like you wanted to be literally anywhere else.” He looks around, everyone around him is silent. “That was just me, wasn’t it.”

“Yeah, I think it was just you, Dingus.” Robin comes up from behind him and rubs between his shoulder blades.

“Steve, honey, we are all here for you.” Joyce assures him. “No matter what you decide to do.”

Nancy steps up to him, taking both of his hands in her tiny ones. “Listen to me carefully, Steve. If you’ll still have me, if you still want this,”

“More than anything.” Steve says immediately.

Nancy smiles softly at him, “Then we are going to stand up in church and say ‘I do.’ and tomorrow we will be husband and wife.” She squeezes his hands. “And you are going to make an amazing King of Genovia.”

He looks around at the four most important people in his life…and nods. He pulls Nancy to him and kisses her forehead. “Thank you, Nancy.” he murmurs into her hairline, “You’re very welcome, Steve.”

Robin, Dustin, and Joyce all crowd in around him.

“I really am sorry, I shouldn’t have been so stupid. It could’ve cost us everything.” he directs the last at Joyce, once they all pull away.

“It’s not all your fault, Dingus. I think we were all rooting for you and Eddie, even though it couldn’t really happen.”

“Is he–He’s gone then, isn’t he?”

“Left this morning, not before we threatened him a little bit.”

Steve sputtered at that, “You threatened him??”

“Yep! I brought your bat with us, hope you don’t mind.”

“Ohmygod, Robin!”

“And Nancy too, she was there too!”

Nancy just giggles in response. Actually giggles.

He looks at Joyce and Dustin, who aren’t reacting “And you guys knew this too?” his face is threatening to break out into a smile.

Joyce nods, and Dustin says “You were in the bathroom a long time, dude.”

—-

Hopper, bless him, doesn’t make a fuss about having the car drop him at Chrissy’s, and not his dad’s.

He goes to the back entrance to her apartment above a boutique on main street, and knocks loudly.

She’s there lightning fast. She had to’ve known he’d come here.

“I am so mad at you.” She hugs him close and pulls him in the door.

“I’m just gonna wallow on your couch, okay Chris?” he trudges up the stairs behind her.

“Anything, E, you know that.” he drops his duffel and himself onto the couch, face first, and doesn’t plan on moving from this spot until…well he doesn’t know until when.

“I take it you aren’t going to be going to the wedding tomorrow?”

Eddie moans into the cushion.

“Thought not.”

—-

The next morning, Steve wakes less than rested. He’d really thrown himself for a loop with his impromptu bathroomfloornap yesterday, then last night, could barely sleep with the added nerves because,

“I’m getting married today.”

He says the words and they still don’t feel real.

He dresses in comfy clothes while he can, knowing he’ll be stuffed into a suit sooner than later, and heads to join everyone for breakfast.

When he gets to the dining hall, he’s surprised that when Joyce’d said everyone will be at breakfast this morning, she really meant everyone. She, Robin, and Nancy, Mike, the Hendersons, the two younger Sinclairs, Will and El, Max, even Jonathan, all seated along the dining hall table.

No one says anything, no one really acknowledges he’s joined them, they all just continue on with their meal, and Steve wants to thank whoever it is that told them all to not mention it. Though Wayne does level Steve with a look that he thinks says ‘I’d like to talk to you later, but if not, know that I am sorry.’ Steve nods at him, and he returns it, placated.

After breakfast, he goes with Nancy and Robin to Nancy’s suite, planning on lounging around and judging while she gets her hair done for the ceremony. They’ve got a chair set up for her in front of a mirror, but the chair is facing the wrong way.

“The stylist they are having come in is a bit…eccentric.” Nancy explains when he asks why not have her facing the mirror. “He likes to do a reveal to himself first before he lets you see.” She shrugs and before Steve can say anything, the man himself waltzes in.

“Ah, Paolo.” She greets. He’s a rounder man, with a shiny bald head and multiple shiny rings. His coat is hastily taken off his shoulders by his two assistants before he reaches both of his hands forward for Nancy’s, giving each set of knuckles a quick kiss in greeting.

“Buongiorno Principessa, ah! And Principe Stephan! Wonderful to see you, are we getting you done for the ceremonies too?”

“Ohhohoho, no. I am all good, I know exactly how to take care of mine just fine. Thank you, Paolo.” Steve waves his hands (probably a little too much) fending off the stylist.

“Ah, good man, good man, knows his angles, his features!” Paolo seems to only talk with his hands. “Let us get started then Principessa.” He waves Nancy back into her chair and gets right to work.

Steve and Robin lounge back on Nancy’s bed, scrolling social media, scrolling faster past any mention of he-who-must-not-be-named, and waiting to react accordingly to each style Paolo attempts to wrangle Nancy’s hair into.

Once the first attempt is finished, Paolo does, in fact, do a reveal to himself. His assistants covered Nancy’s face from his view with headshots of previous clients and pulls them apart from each other at his command. Strange, but okay.

Nancy turns to him and Robin first, and they both have to stifle laughs “You should definitely look first, Nance.” Robin tells her.

She does, and her eyes go wide. “I look like a moose.” Paolo had split her hair down the middle and twisted the gathered strands on each side upon themselves to twist up off the top of her head. “I have antlers.” She sounds absolutely mortified.

“Yes, but a very cute moose.” Paolo defends, “Make all the boy moose go HWAAAAH.” Steve and Robin lose their shit at his exaggerated attempted moose call, both of them also bursting out in their own moose calls.

He attempts a more floofy, curly look next. This time all Nancy can manage when Paolo spins the hand mirror to her is a strained “I look like a poodle.”

She really does, and Paolo knows it. Doesn’t even try to defend it. Just dives back in with a “Here we go again!”

“She really does look like a poodle.” Steve comments from his new seat on Nancy’s couch. A poor choice, really, because he’s within arms’ reach of Paolo. Who grabs his spray bottle of water and spritzes him directly in the face.

“I like it.” Robin comments idly, not looking up from her magazine in the chair on Nancy’s other side.

This time, Paolo reacts much better, lifting Robin’s hand from the arm rest and kisses it reverently. Then gets back to work on Nancy’s hair. Robin’s still reading her magazine like nothing just happened.

Steve’s still stunned from the whole water to the face thing and stands to leave. “I need to go get ready, I’ll see you there Nance?” He questions as if he doesn’t already know the answer.

“Of course, Steve, I’ll be the one in white.” She gives him a wink and Robin belts out a singular loud “HA!”

On his way back to his suite, who should he run into other than Lady Applejack herself.

“Hey Erica, you look great!” she’s in a puffy-sleeved, pastel pink/peach colored dress, pristine white Converse high-tops, and an expensive-looking bag on her shoulder.

She rolls her eyes, “I know I do. But thank you.” she nods “It’s a Selkie dress.”

“I have no idea what that means, but good for you?” he starts walking away, “I’m heading up to get ready myself, can’t be late!”

“Oh, wait!” Erica calls, and he turns back to her in the hall. “I forgot to tell you about Joyce and Hopper!” she sing-songs as she skips up to him. “Me and Ed—SOMEONE ELSE saw them slow dancing all love-y with each other in the ballroom the other day, AND I have it on good authority that he proposed.” She crosses her arms across her chest and smiles smugly up at him.

With everything else going on with him recently, he’s completely missed this whole thing happening between Hopper and Joyce? Well not really, there’ve always been vibes between the two, but still.

“That’s…actually that makes a lot of sense. I hope she said yes.”

After a couple seconds, her stance softens and she drops her arms, looking a bit sheepish.

“Hey, Steve? I know we all really like..him. But we’re all on your side if you'd like us to be. Even Will seemed ready to kill him for that, and Will is definitely more tame of all of us.”

Steve huffs out a laugh at how easily he can imagine both Will and Ellie, somehow with some sort of psychic powers, lifting Edmund off his feet and exploding him into tiny bits.

“Thanks Erica, I’m really lucky to have you all.” He pulls her into a short hug and sends her on her way, telling her he’ll see her at the chapel.

—-

The rest of the morning is a blur, and suddenly, Steve is standing with Hopper on the opposite side of the chapel’s heavy wooden doors.

He’s in the black version of his (what must be trademarked at this point) pear tree print suit, maroon bowtie, and a silver version of his grandfather’s crown set atop his hair.

“Hey Hop, I want you to know that I’m 100% in support of you and Joyce.” he looks up to meet Hopper's eyes.

Hopper stares down at him. “Erica knows everything.” Steve says with shrug as a form of explanation and turns back to face the doors.

After a moment, Hopper heaves a long sigh. “Highness, before you go in there, you should know,” He pauses. “Eddie did not set you up at the lake.”

Just that one sentence and Steve’s thrown off his axis, the most overwhelming feeling of hope floods his senses. He snaps his head to Hopper once more. “Are you sure?” he manages to whisper out.

“Erica knows everything.” Hopper echoes with a smile, then leans over to whisper: “She happened to overhear him having a very heated and incriminating phone call with his father yesterday.”

Steve gives him a shaky smile, but then he can hear his cue play from behind the double doors, and a moment later, they open in front of him.

Steve and Hopper walk through the doors, Hopper stopping at the pew at the very front to take his seat beside Joyce. Steve takes his spot next to the bishop in a daze. That really wasn’t Eddie? Does he dare to hope that Erica is telling the truth? That damn father of his…. Steve feels like an idiot. He’s planted his feet where they are supposed to be and looks out at the people in the pews.

Well. Here he is.

At the last step he needed before he’d be able to become King.

Standing in front of the world’s most important people, the only thing Steve could think was that there was one face missing from the crowd.

The only face that mattered.

Steve turns to Robin (his best man) and by his look alone she says, “Take a right, third door on the left. I’ll tell them you’ll be right back.”

Minutes before Nancy was to walk down the aisle to him, Steve was walking the wrong way back up it, and out the door.

He doesn’t register the murmurs and tittering of the crowd, doesn’t register Hopper telling Joyce “It’s alright, he’ll be back.” and sitting her back down at the front of the church, doesn’t register what Robin is announcing to the crowd, the only thought on his mind was ‘Find Nancy.’

He found her exactly where Robin said she’d be, Chrissy helping her with the last couple things.

“Steve?” She sees him enter in the reflection in front of her, and turns to face him in the doorway.

“Nancy..” He has no idea what to say. No idea how to explain to her what he wants, what he’s planning on telling everyone.

Nancy hurries forward and closes the door behind him before she takes him by the hand and sits him on the bench in front of the vanity. She crouches down in front of Steve, a hand on his shoulder, face level to his. Steve’s focus is halfway between the present and completely faraway, and she knows.

“So, do you think I should change out of my dress then?”

Steve blinks fully back to the present, searches her face and only finds determined honesty. Steve laughs until his eyes let loose a couple of tears. “Only if you want to, Nance.” He looks down at her, “You look beautiful.”

She pulls him into a hug and Chrissy rubs his back comfortingly.

“Steve,” Nancy pulls back, “do you know what you are going to say?”

He thinks for a much shorter moment than he thought he’d need, and says “Yes.”

“Do you know that if you do this now, even if it works, Parliament will find a way to get you back for this later? Even if they seem to agree now?”

“Huh?”

“Exposing them to the whole world at once may not bode well for you in the future.”

Steve hadn’t thought about it that far ahead. But he knows this is what he needs to do. “Will you be there to help me when it bites me in the ass?”

She smiles, “Of course I will Steve.”

“Then I’m good.”

Nancy wipes his eyes clean with the handkerchief Chrissy holds out for her, and studies his face for a moment. She must’ve decided something, because she nods, pulls him up from the stool, and heads out the door to lead them both back to their ceremony.

They get to the doorway, hand in hand, and Joyce is there with Hopper, having been waiting for them.

“Aunt Joyce I–” Steve’s cut off as Joyce hugs him tight. He releases Nancy and embraces the Queen, wondering to himself how she knows.

Joyce pulls back and cups his face. “You’ve got this honey, remember, I am on your side no matter what.”

Steve smiles and grabs her hands from his face, gives them a squeeze, then turns back to Nancy. They give each other a nod and start down the aisle together. The orchestra starts up with the bridal march as they were told to, and everyone stands to face them.

—-

The second Steve appeared in the chapel doors on his screen, Eddie bolted up. He had to get there, he had to be there. Steve looked gone. Confused. It was a pull he hadn’t felt before.

He ran to the bathroom, and changed into his suit as quickly as he could, thanking Chrissy with all his soul that she’d thought to have it set up for him in case he changed his mind about going.

“No one’s going to want to see me there, Chris. I can’t do that to him.”

“Well then, if you decide to torture yourself, it’s ready to go.”

He didn’t even get his tie on, just shirt, pants, jacket, and shoes. He didn’t need to look like he was getting married, just not like he’d been wallowing the last 24 hours at least.

He’s pulling his shoes on when there are gasps and tittering from the gathered crowd in his phone. He snatches it up and watches as Steve marches back down the long aisle of the church.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He crams his feet the rest of the way into his shoes, throws himself down the back stairs of Chrissy’s apartment, and out onto the nearly deserted main street.

He doesn’t have to go far to the chapel, it being just around the corner at the end of Main street, but when he does round the corner, “Jesus H. Christ.”

Duh. Of course there’s going to be crowds outside too.

He manages to sneak down a side alley to the back side of the church, and where there should be legions of guards, there is only...

“Dustin? Dustin please, I have to see him.” Eddie calls to him, jogs the rest of the way to the teen.

Dustin glares back. “Eddie, I don’t know how you think I’m going to let you in after what you did to Steve.”

“Please, Dusty, you’ve gotta believe I didn’t do this. Look, Wayne may not have told you already but–”

“No, he did.”

“He did.” Dustin nods, and Eddie forces himself to recover from that. “Okay, so you know exactly why I am now trying to get away from this damn family. I swear Dustin, I had nothing to do with it, my father was trying to set me up–Steve up– to fail. And I don’t know what else he’s going to try and pull, but I need to be there when he does.”

Dustin’s eyes squint closed even more, but he says “Swear on my mother.”

Eddie breathes a hesitant sigh of relief. “I swear on your mother.” raises his hand in pledge just for an added measure.

“Okay, you can go (“Thank you!”) but you better go fast,” he turns his own cell to show him, “They’re walking down the aisle right now.”

“Oh fuck!”

–

Steve and Nancy reach the front row of pews and Steve lifts a hand to stop the bishop as he opens his mouth to speak.

Nancy places a hand on Steve’s shoulder and holds something out to him, he opens his palm and she drops his grandmother’s ring into his hand. The two of them smile broadly at each other as the whole place gasps at once. She releases his shoulder and moves to stand beside Jonathan (who should be snapping pictures at the moment, but is just standing there staring at her as she slots into place next to him at the wall, his face beet red).

He moves to stand in front of the microphone and podium off to the side, clears his throat, and speaks.

“Good afternoon everyone. I know you are all wondering what this is, what is happening.” he takes another steadying breath. “I am not going to be getting married today.” The crowd breaks out in a wave of startled whispers, and Steve continues. “I am standing before you today because one month ago, someone else decided for me that one half of any possible group of people I could fall in love with one day, was too much of a risk for Genovia. A risk of what? I am not sure. But I was given an ultimatum. Marry an eligible noblewoman or forfeit the throne.” Another round of titters and gasps wash over him and he can only imagine how wild the chat is on the palace’s livestream right now.

“I am not going to lead this country in a loveless marriage like my father would have before his death. I know very well that his ascension to the throne would not have been a welcome change to the majority of people in this beautiful country and I mean not to have the people of Genovia be led into that with me.

“I love Nancy. She has been an additional rock to me in this whirlwind of a month, and I will forever be grateful to her and I will always be her friend. All this to say that I believe I have proven myself as a leader, and with Nancy’s continued support, the support of my aunt, and with the support of the people of Genovia, I will continue to prove myself over and over if I need to.

“So I ask the members of parliament to reconsider their ultimatum, and if they still do not deem me worthy of being your King, I will concede, and Lord Muñoz can take my place.”

“I won’t,” Eddie calls from the chapel entrance, this time, Steve joins the gasps of the crowd. “I refuse to be King of Genovia. Steve has proven himself more than worthy.” The crowd dithers and chatters amongst themselves, and Steve can see Viscount Muñoz stand up sharply from his seat. ‘Oh boy..’ Steve thinks

“He does not need anyone on his arm for him to shine. And just imagine how handsome he’d look on our postage stamp.” Steve likes to think he knows Eddie well enough to know the exact smirk and wink he just gave before turning and marching back out the way he’d come, even though he can’t see it from where he is.

“Handsome on a postage stamp?? You would look handsome on a postage stamp!” Steve watches as Viscount Muñoz struggles out of his seat, over the fabric barrier at the end of the pew, and hobbles off down the aisle after Eddie, Hopper stepping fully in front of Joyce as he passes with lackluster bows her way.

The chapel doors are closed firmly behind him.

Wayne steps up to Steve’s podium then, “Your highness, you should make a motion for a vote.”

There’s suddenly a huge pit in his stomach. This was not a good idea, what parliament members are going to vote to keep him on the throne after this??

“You will be alright, my boy. Trust me.”

Steve gulps, but turns back to the microphone, casting a glance to Robin and Nancy, both of whom give him encouraging nods, and Robin gives him a sly double thumbs-up.

“Prime Minister Henderson, I move for a vote. To overrule parliament’s previous decision on Viscount Munoz’s contest to my right to the crown.”

Wayne nods, and calls across the gathered guests to all the members, wherever they may sit. “I will also be adding the amendment that any current and future member of the royal family may marry any person, or persons, of any gender they wish.” Steve is floored, gaping at Wayne. “All those in favor, say ‘Aye’.”

Silence. Too long of a silence.

Steve can feel his resolve crumbling with every passing second, but he holds strong.

“Aye!” Steve whips his head to the voice, not a parliament member, but Erica Sinclair. She’s stood herself onto the seat of the pew, arms crossed, and Steve feels like crying.

“Apologies, Lady Ap–Lady Sinclair, you aren’t a vote we nee–” Waye starts.

“I don’t care. ‘Aye!’ He’s the best person to be King and everyone here knows it.”

There's another, shorter stretch of silence, and Lucas stands beside his sister (not on the seat, but still). “Aye.”

“Aye!” Nancy steps forward from the wall, grinning at the other two (and holding tight to Jonathan’s hand).

“Aye!” Chrissy this time.

Steve feels like he’s going to combust when he realizes what they are doing; they’re using their own pull, their own royal and royal-adjacent power to show everyone else who is going to be on Steve’s side here, no matter what the actual decision from parliament will be.

It’s another slap to the face of parliament when the to-be King, and current Queen of one of Genovia’s closest allies stand with a joint “Aye!” Steve thinks Mike is actually being sincere and not nearly as embarrassed as he could be, standing tall with his mother.

Then Lord and Lady Sinclair stand in agreement, seeming spurred on by Karen taking the leap for him.

There is another beat of silence, with Wayne coaching Steve in his ear (“Stare them down, nope, not that hard, gentler. There you go. Show them you aren’t going to back down on this.”) before that one oldest member of parliament stands shakily with his cane.

Steve braces himself internally.

“I have young grandchildren, Your Highness.”

“Lord Palimore?” Wayne urges when the man does not continue.

“I believe they will be in excellent hands with you as King. Aye.” he nods sagely and his face crinkles up into a smile.

Steve sucks in a breath, forcing his heart to slow it’s jackhammering.

After him, there is a slow trickle of agreement, ‘Aye’s come from the three members Steve admittedly gave a bit too much shit to when he proposed his idea of converting the winter palace into a children’s shelter, then there is a flood of ‘Aye’s after them, as if the others aren’t about to be outdone by the others, or maybe they just don’t want to be seen on the wrong side of history.

Either way, “The ‘Aye’s have it!” Wayne calls, and there are cheers from the majority of the crowd, and listening over them, there’s a booming cheer coming from the people outside the chapel as well. “Congratulations, your highness.”

There’s a brief moment of celebration and Steve has a thought, “Murray!” he calls the man toward him, “Give me your earpiece and mic?”

Murray grins at him and hands them over. “Oh, don’t act like you know what I’m going to say.” Steve shakes his head at him, then holds the earpiece to his ear and speaks into the mic.

“Hop?”

“Your Highness?” His voice is tinny, and Steve can see Joyce turn when he addresses him.

“Might as well not let all this go to waste, huh?”

Hopper is silent in the earpiece and Steve can see him standing stock still at the other end of the church. “That’s something you’ll have to ask Her Majesty.”

“Oh come off it, that’s your job isn’t it?” he drops the earpiece and mic at the same time, showing his hands to Hopper ‘Hah! Can’t hear you!’ He thinks at him.

He gives Nancy a whistle and tilts his head to the end of the aisle ‘Hop’ he mouths at her. She has no clue what he’s trying to say. Robin shoots up “I’ve got it! Bouquet please, Nance?”

She passes it over, and Robin power walks down the aisle just in time, Hopper is removing his mic and earpiece, and holds his arm out for Joyce. She’s beaming when Robin passes the bouquet into her hands, and she’s still beaming as she addresses some of the crowd (“Sorry for the short notice, but you were already dressed!” she jokes), and beaming brighter still when she reaches the bishop.

Steve takes back Nancy’s bouquet from Joyce, and she gives him a loving pat on the cheek.

“My lord archbishop,” she faces forward again, “I would like to take this man as my husband, if you please.”

“Finally.” he says, smiling at his queen and Steve hides his laugh behind a flurry of coughs. “We are gathered here today for a different wedding.”

Joyce and Hopper exchange short vows, all they need, a simple ‘With this ring, I thee, finally, wed.’.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.” the bishop tells Hop, and he wastes no time pulling Joyce to him in a crushing, loving kiss.

Last part here!!!

@henderdads @sadcanadianwinter @hopefulslothcollecter @steveshairychest @sidebarre @resident-gay-bitch @kaspurrcat @melkene @livewondrousss @steddieasitgoes @mightbeasleep @princessstevemunson @totallybitchin @potentialheartofdarkness @spectrum-spectre @munsonfamilyband

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bewitched-forest · 1 year

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The Rebirth of Tim Drake - Ch 1

Tim gets turned into a halfa after an incident with a newly spawned Lazarus Pit, electricity, and Ra's Al Ghul. When he awakens, he finds himself in the Ghost Zone. Taken to fellow Halfa, Danny Fenton, he travels to Amity Park where he learns with the help of Danny and his friends just what he has become. And how being a Halfa has made him one of the most hunted beings in the world.

[Ao3 Link Here]

} ~ – ~ {

Red Robin panted back and knees aching as he crawled through the ventilation. It was big enough for him, thankfully, but he’d been crawling for five minutes now.

Tim thought back to what had gotten him into this position. Batman had received word a week back that a new Lazarus Pit had formed on the surface, and that Ra’s Al Ghul was already attempting to take control to convert it for his uses. They had gathered their intel, figured out the location, before planning an infiltration.

Which led to now. Red looked through a grate, smiling as he finally noticed a surveillance room. Carefully, he pries open the grate, setting it gently off to the side. Peeking his head out, he takes a look around the room. Lucky him, only one security guard was inside.

Carefully, Red slided out feet first first, landing softly on the ground. He snuck up behind the security man at his desk, pulling out a tranquilizer and injecting it into the man’s neck. He backed up, watching the man stumble to his feet before flopping onto the floor like a potato sack. Red Robin wasted no time, dashing forward and turning off the security measures, including the cameras.

He reached up, turning on his comm. “Mission accomplished. Security is offline.” Tim doesn’t wait for the reply as he lifts the man, depositing him in his chair and facing him back toward the computers. He jumped for the vent, pulling himself inside and replacing the vent grate.

He continued crawling along the vent, listening to the messages traversing through the comms.

“Robin, what’s your status on locating Ra’s?” asked Batman.

Even now, Red can’t help but prickle at the name. He wonders if Jason or Dick ever did too, since the name was once theirs.

“Negative. I still haven’t located Grandfather,” replied Damian.

“Everyone keep looking. We find Ra’s, we find the pit so we can close it.”

Gun shots sound, causing Tim to snort. Seems Jason must’ve gotten himself into something.

“Hood! Report!” says Batman.

“I’m fine! Don’t need to get your cape in a twist! No Ra’s here!” replied Hood hurriedly. You could hear the gunshots echo past his voice over the comms.

Tim peered through a vent grate, eyes widening as he saw a green robe. He scoots back out of sight before pressing his comm. “I think I found Ra’s. Sending you my location now.” Tim opens up his wrist computer, typing in his coordinates and sending them to Oracle to distribute.

“Got it. Everyone en route to Red’s location,” says Batman.

Red waited for minutes before hearing the fight break out in the room. He kicks out the grate, dropping into the room and deploying his Bo staff. Immediately he jumps into the fight, taking down people left and right. Tim can hear his family shouting around, though he elects to focus on the fight.

He spots the Lazarus Pit, and after glancing around to see everyone occupied, he vaults over one of the assassins and makes his mad dash for the pit, grabbing the chemical bomb Batman made to close the pit.

“Red Robin!” shouts Nightwing shrilly.

Red whirls around just as Ra’s slices down with his katana. The blade cuts cleanly across Red’s chest, causing him to stumble. Slipping on the edge of the pit, he drops inside, the bomb being thrown from his hand.

Immediately, the wound starts to tingle and Tim’s throat burns from swallowing the lazarus waters. As Tim kicks towards the surface, he can see a light flash above the water. Just as Tim is about to break his hand through, the water turns into fire.

Everything burns! It’s like his very molecules are being torn apart, clawed away by something sharper than the sword that had cut him earlier. It hurts. Tim barely can think to liken it to the tasers before the pain whisks away all thought from his brain.

The world turns numb. Somewhere in the back of his head, Tim knows he’s still in pain. Still being burned and torn alive. But it's as though he is far away from his body. It's almost peaceful.

No. NO. Peace! He’s not supposed to have peace right now! He’s supposed to be fighting. To be making it back to his family. To protect the world from Ra’s Al Ghul and his lazarus pits.

The world snaps back into focus, the pain returning ten fold. Tim struggles against the currents, barely even registering that there shouldn’t be any. He kicks and claws for the surface, desperate to get out, to get back to his family. To get back to his life. But already Tim can see the black crawling across his eyes. And just as Tim feels he’s about to make it, the darkness swallows him whole.

} ~ – ~ {

Tim woke with a groan, rolling onto his side to push himself up. He felt like he had gotten tased with the power of the bat signal. He could feel his body spasming, protesting the act of trying to get up. His head spun violently. Probably would’ve vomited if he had anything in his stomach.

Tim forced his eyes open, looking around at the world. His attention snapped into focus as he realized that he was not in the compound. Beneath his hands, the dirt was an ashy grey. Around him, stood jungle plants in various shades of blue and purple. Looking up led to his eyes widening as he saw a swirling green sky and floating islands.

Tim was pretty sure he wasn’t even on Earth anymore.

“Who are you?” boomed a voice behind him. Tim stumbled to his feet, whirling around.

His jaw dropped as he saw the metal man floating in the air. The man was massive, even bigger than Jason. He had electric green hair and dark eyes. And, as Tim realized, a bazooka aimed right at him.

Tim decided to deal with the fact the man glowed later. He ran, just straight bolted into the forest behind.

“Ah a hunt! I shall catch you quickly, squirt!” shouted the metal man.

Tim ignored him, opting to run. Though, Tim should’ve figured that the guy having been floating showed that was a stupid move. Within seconds, Tim was getting shot at. He stumbled to a stop as he reached a cliff's edge, looking down proving an endless drop.

A shot right at his feet, had other plans for him though.

He fell, closing his eyes shut on instinct. When he didn’t feel the wind whipping past him, indicative of dropping to his death, Tim cracked his eyes open.

They blew wide as he realized was floating, his arms waving around wildly. He flipped over himself, as a result and he looked over at the now upside down metal man looking at him. The man lowered his bazooka, clearly as confused as Tim was.

The man didn’t get a chance to say anything because suddenly Tim was getting bodied, a small green glowing ball of fluff barreling right into him. Tim groaned, as he watched the ball unfold into a puppy.

The puppy tilted his head at Tim before looking over his shoulder. Tim barely had time to react before the floating dog jumped, snatching up his cape and dragging him. Tim tried to yank the cape away, before realizing that he was still in mid air.

His eyes widened as he finally processed another few new details. For one, his cape was white. His gloves too! What?! Tim knew for a fact he was in his Red Robin suit before he passed out. But he had absolutely no white.

An eager, but muffled bark called Tim to look away, eyes widened as he got slammed into a snowbank by the bounding dog. And once more, Tim was swallowed up in black.

#the rebirth of tim drake #batman #danny phantom #batman x danny phantom #dp x dc #tim drake x danny fenton #tim drake #red robin #halfa tim drake #halfa tim drake au #joker jr is canon #hurt/comfort #angst #fluff

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piratefalls · 6 months

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WIP title game! I was tagged by @ereborne!

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

the list of things I've left unfinished is short, so I'll include a snippet with each one. it's also 85% mcdanno lmao.

Give Me a Memory I Can Use (McDanno, finale fix-it)

“Hey, Steve?” He looks down to see her smiling. “Be happy.” He returns her smile. “Hey Cath?” “Yeah?” “I think it’s my turn to walk away.” This time she grins. “I think so too.” So he pulls his bag from the bin, and does.

Share the Scars From Our Abandon (Person of Interest/Rinch, post-series)

Night after night he reaches out for something, anything, to soothe the ever-present ache under his ribs, the one that calls to him when the sun goes down, reminds him that he has family, love, a home somewhere out there, wishing he were in it right now, if only he’d seek it out. The one that reminds him that human connection does not have to be a foreign concept any longer, that it is instead a patchwork quilt of messy, complicated, beautiful people to call his, the place where he drops anchor and floats steady. His body, so broken in so many ways, can now recall a touch that does not hurt, the smell of fresh brewed coffee and old books, the sound of a heart that beats in time with his own.

Untitled Finale Fix-it #2 (McDanno)

His buddy introduces him to the group, since he's apparently a legend. He talks about his life post-SEALs. Later his friend would learn Steve hadn't retired but had been medically discharged. "Got shot. A lot," he says. "Needed a liver transplant." "How did you get one that fast? Anyone with half a brain cell could figure out those odds, factoring in the fact that you were on an island." And then he tells him about Danny, and the plane, that he'd saved Steve's life more than once that day. "Fuck." Steve laughs. "Pretty much."

super rough jotted down ideas for Ace!Henry FirstPrince (RWRB)

They do talk about how to navigate physical intimacy. Henry loves touch, craves it, wants to be wrapped up in and around Alex as often as possible, his breathing slowing to match the steady rhythm of Alex's heart under his cheek as they cuddle in bed. Holding hands, carding his fingers through Alex's hair, always touching touching touching. That's never been his problem. It's everything that's supposed to come after that gives him pause.

5+1 play on the practice of kintsugi (McDanno)

Three days later he listens to his father die over the phone. his whole team is dead, Anton Hesse is dead, everyone is dead. Freddie died and it was all for nothing. Freddie, the keeper of Steve's darkest secrets, the person who kept him tethered to the real world when all he'd wanted to do was fly apart, had sacrificed it all just to be given oblivion. A piece of Steve's heart is anchored somewhere in the middle of a North Korean jungle. He could give you the exact coordinates, but he won't. He doesn't want it back.

Can You Do It? (You Bet Jurassican) (buddie velocipastor au) (if you haven't watched the movie this will make less than zero sense)

No, Eddie Diaz - father, firefighter, combat veteran, boyfriend to an actual fucking dinosaur - is wearing a stretchy orange dress that, after he gets it all the way down, barely hits mid-thigh. Before he has a chance to pull it off and look for literally anything else, Buck comes around the corner and stops in his tracks. “Jinkies.” “Fuck you.” Buck gives him a quick look up and down and shrugs. “Fine with me. If I’m being honest Velma always lowkey gave me top vibes.” And that’s a discussion he’s not touching. “You’re an idiot and I hate everything you choose to be.” “Now that’s a lie and we both know it,” he replies.

no one has to participate, but if you do please tag me!

#about me #my fic #it took two notebooks my notes app and my google drive to compile these lmao #I'm excited about the first prince one because I just love exploring all the ways people can be intimate with each other

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vickiabelson · 2 years

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Today Live! Singer/Songwriter/Producer, Steve Postell and I go back to Bleecker Street in the heady daze of the New York club scene. I was booking the Rock 'N Roll Café and Steve was fresh outta Pure Prairie League. I was RockStar struck. I booked him that day and have continued to for the past 30 + years wherever I went and whatever I did. When I had my book launch at The Federal it was Steve I went to. He put together the most kick-ass jam band, as he always does. Did you ever see his Night Train Music Club? I did, a gazillion times. A rotation of the best players on the planet, a bunch of whom comprise now, with Steve, The Immediate Family.

Steve won two HOLLYWOOD MUSIC IN MEDIA awards for best song in the Americana/Roots and The Blues categories. His last CD features guests including David Crosby, John Oates, Robben Ford, Eric Johnson, and Jennifer Warnes. Steve was project coordinator for the Shout Factory anniversary release of the Jennifer Warnes/Leonard Cohen project, Famous Blue Raincoat, and is the composer for the documentary Dying to Know, about Timothy Leary and Ram Dass, narrated by Robert Redford. Steve recorded and mixed Ravi Shankar’s final two performances, both on DVD. He produced CDs for Dan Navarro (whose hit songs include Pat Benatar’s “We Belong”) and Weather Report alumni Alphonso Johnson, both of which are charting in their respective categories. Steve contributed guitar to David Crosby’s last solo album, Sky Trails, and is currently writing with Crosby for an upcoming release. Steve’s CD, Walking Through These Blues, was released on VIVID SOUND. This CD features a host of guests, including David Crosby, Iain Matthews, Tony Furtado, Bekka Bramlett, Jeff Pevar, Greg Leisz, and many others.

Steve performed on and co-produced a CD for renowned producer/guitarist and songwriter Danny (Kootch) Kortchmar. The CD features a star-studded cast including guest appearances by James Taylor, Jackson Browne, David Crosby, and Michael McDonald. This CD led to the formation of the beforementioned, The Immediate Family, which in addition to Steve includes legendary session men Danny Kortchmar, Leland Sklar, Waddy Wachtel & Russ Kunkel. Since forming, The Immediate Family has sold out 2 tours in Japan where they recorded a live CD. They have released numerous videos and dropped a second EP of new material on Quarto Valley Records. Their first single, Cruel Twist, reached the top 10 on the blues charts. The band will be featured in a documentary by “Wrecking Crew” director Denny Tedesco. Their new full-length record will be released in conjunction with the rollout of the film. Steve continues to preside over his band THE NIGHT TRAIN MUSIC CLUB, a rotating collaboration that has featured many legendary artists including David Crosby, Jackson Browne, David Pack, Paul Barrere, Steve Ferrone, Albert Lee, Jeff Bridges, and numerous others.

Did I mention Steve has the voice of an angel? I did now. We’ll no doubt get a delectable sample.

Steve Postell Live on Game Changers With Vicki Abelson

Wednesday, 6/29/22, 5 pm PT, 8 pm ET

Streaming Live on my Facebook

Daily by Toni Vincent & @peter_and_paul_ Cartoons

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ascendingtostardust · 2 years

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Surprise Impact (18+)

After weeks of planning, surprising Danny on tour was supposed to be easy and painless…but that’s not exactly how it turned out.

Danny Wagner x Reader

Word Count: 1.8K (oops)

Warnings: sexual situations, cursing

A/n: Finally found the motivation to write this part of my little “Giggles in Bed” series (josh and sammy are already complete)! As always, let me know what y’all think!

The plan to surprise Danny while he was on tour had been a work in progress since before he even left, but something always seemed to get in the way just as you were about to book the flight. It was harder than you originally thought it would be to coordinate your own work schedule and obligations with his schedule, and Sam was little help. He was your only reliable source for inside information about the band’s daily schedules and upcoming appearances to help your planning, but the boy barely knew his own schedule on a day-to-day basis let alone a week in advance.

After five attempts at replanning the surprise trip, one was finally successful and you found yourself standing outside of the large back doors of the arena the band would be performing at that night. As usual, you were waiting for Sam. He promised to meet you at the doors at 5, but as you checked your phone and saw the time read 5:32 with no texts from Sam, you worried that maybe the master plan wouldn't actually be carried out as flawlessly as you wanted. Just as you were pulling your jacket closer to your chest to shield yourself from the cold wind and turned to walk back towards your rental car, one of the doors creaked open slowly. Sam stood in the doorway with a sheepish grin, ushering you into the warm hallway and wrapping his arms around your shoulders to avoid your glare.

“I know, I know. I’m late and I’m sorry, but for the first time ever Danny wanted to come with me when I told him I was coming out for a smoke and I had to get him off my back.” Sam offered, leading you down the long corridor as you walked closely behind him to avoid being seen by any crew who knew you by now.

“And…how did you do that?” You looked over at him with a raised eyebrow, knowing how bad he was at lying under pressure.

“I told him I needed some Sammy time…” He mumbled out quickly, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

You let out a loud laugh before catching yourself and looking around the hallway to make sure that you hadn’t drawn too much attention to yourself.

“That actually worked?”

“Of course it did! You’ll come to learn that Sammy time is sacred around here!” Sam teasingly pinched your arm, narrowing his eyes at you as he opened the door to a vacant dressing room. You dropped your bag on one of the couches and immediately opened it to try to find something worthy of surprising your boyfriend in.

After going over the plan one more time with Sam, he left to get back to his bandmates and prepare for the show that was now about to start. You were nervous that you wouldn’t get the reaction from Danny that you had hoped for, but in the back of your mind you knew that he would be happy whether you were staying with him for one night or one month. Finally done messing with your hair to make sure that it looked perfect, you looked in the full-body mirror one more time and smoothed your hands over your shirt before taking a deep breath and heading towards the wings of the stage to watch Danny and the boys perform.

As always, the show was incredible and you lightly jogged back to the backstage area before the boys walked offstage, quickly making your way to their dressing room and closing the door behind you. Your phone vibrated as you stood against the wall next to the door, waiting for the band to rush in.

‘Just got off stage, I’ll call when I’m changed :))’

The text from Danny made you giggle with anticipation and confirmed that he truly had no idea that you were there. Before you knew it, the door swung open and Sam came into the room first, scanning the room for you and smirking when his gaze landed on you. Next was Danny, who shuffled in while looking down at his phone, already moving to kick his shoes off near the entrance.

You moved quickly before Josh and Jake came in and saw you, knowing they would ruin the surprise. Stepping away from the wall, you lightly grabbed Danny’s bicep and leaned your body against him.

“Great show, rockstar,” you whispered closer to his ear, his arm pulling away from your grasp.

“Yeah tha-” he paused, finally looking over at you next to him. “Wait what the fuck? How are you here right now? What’s going on?” His whole face brightened at the sight of you and he quickly pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you up slightly to lead the two of you away from the door.

“Surprise?” You said, laughing into his shoulder as he didn’t show any sign of pulling out of the embrace any time soon. He finally lifted his head, taking your face in both of his hands to look deep into your eyes before leaning in to press his lips against your own.

“Alright you two! Just go to the bus, we don’t want to see that shit.” Sam waved the two of you off, sinking back onto the worn couch and cracking his beer open. There was an agreement made between the four boys that if one of their partners was visiting, the pair would get free-reign over the bus for an hour after the show to avoid any awkward accidental interruptions.

You and Danny glowed red with embarrassment and Danny leaned down to grab one of his discarded shoes, throwing it at Sam. He grabbed your hand and the two of you quickly made your way outside and to the large bus parked in the private lot behind the arena. After answering all of his questions about your trip, he gave you a tour of the bus which, of course, ended with his bunk.

A peck on his lips turned heated fast and you found yourself laying in the cramped space of his bunk, Danny hovering over you as he littered your neck and chest with kisses. The hand you had resting on the back of his neck coaxed him back towards your lips and you reached down to pull the hem of his shirt up. He got the hint and pulled it off, careful of the low ceiling above him, and tossed it into the pile of discarded clothes on the floor.

You took a minute to admire his now bare chest, running your hands over his torso, but purposefully avoiding the bulge growing in his boxers.

“Can I show you how much I missed you, baby?” You asked, biting your lip lightly and looking up at him with bedroom eyes.

Without a second thought, Danny nodded enthusiastically and moved to switch positions with you so that you could straddle his hips. You kissed his lips one more time before making your way down his torso, gently biting the soft skin just above the waistband of his boxers. He hummed in response and you slowly pulled them down, taking his hardened length in your hand and letting your tongue lick up from the base to the tip. His head fell back against the pillows as his hand instinctively found their way to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair.

After a few minutes of teasing, it felt like more of your hair was getting in your mouth than Danny was. He could sense your frustration and moved to gather it in his large hands. As he went to pull them away to collect your hair together, a sharp, burning pain shot through your scalp. Danny hadn’t taken his rings off after the show, forgetting amongst the shock of your surprise and the heat of the moment. The ring he adorned on his index finger caught a few strands of your hair as he pulled his hand away, causing the unexpected pain. You gasped in surprise and Danny immediately felt the resistance, understanding the problem but not knowing how to help.

“Shit, I’m so sorry! I should’ve taken them off before we came in here! I’m so sorry, baby!” He frantically tried to soothe your scalp with his fingertips as best as he could while still being stuck. As the pain subsided, you chuckled lightly and started trying to untangle the strands from the brass ring.

“It’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting it is all.” As you worked to free yourself, you shimmied up his legs to peck his cheek and calm his worried expression.

A few minutes later and the two of you still weren’t free, becoming painfully aware that the others would be returning to the bus any minute but the two of you weren’t exactly decent for any company. Soon, the bus door swung open and voices got louder as the boys climbed up the stairs. You looked down at Danny and quickly sat up with the intent to reach down and grab your clothes off the floor, forgetting how low the ceiling was in the bunk. The crown of your head smacked the ceiling with a loud thud and you couldn’t help but yelp in pain, quickly bringing your hand up to hold the spot that hurt the worst.

“Ah fuck!” You exclaimed louder than intended, Danny’s hand coming to rest on top of yours as he stared up at you with wide eyes, a smile playing at the corners his lips. You let yourself fall to rest on top of him, burying your face in the crook of his neck to wait for the pain to subside. Suddenly, you felt Danny’s chest vibrate with laughter and he brought his free hand up to his face, trying to somehow conceal how humorous he found the situation. As much as your head still pounded, his laughter was infectious and you soon found yourself laughing just as hard as he was.

Footsteps came closer to the closed curtain of the bunk and Sam’s hand appeared from under the thick fabric, holding up a bag of frozen carrots.

“It’s all we have, sorry…” he said hesitantly, waiting for someone to take the bag from him.

“I figured you probably need it for the concussion it sounded like you just gave yourself.”

You grabbed the bag of frozen carrots out of his hand and thanked him, bringing it to your head for any kind of relief. You and Danny giggled quietly as he worked again to untangle your hair from his ring, finally freeing you both.

He cradled the bag to the back of your head as you laid against his chest, feeling his lips press to the top of your head every so often.

“So…we’ll try again tomorrow night?”

#got a little carried away with this one sorry y’all #danny wagner #danny wagner fanfiction #danny wagner fic #danny wagner x reader #danny wagner imagine #gvf

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five-rivers · 3 years

Note

Maybe a Secret Saturday and DP crossover with the Fenton's being approached to join the Secret Scientists. The parents are quickly deemed too biased against ghosts to join until further notice. Their kids, on the other hand. The son's not quite a scientist, but he has potential. And their daughter would be perfect.

“Remind me why I’m doing this again?”

Doc gave Zak a look. “Because the Secret Scientists need new members. Potential members need to be screened by existing members. And the Fentons have kids your age.”

Zak raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I don’t exactly get along with ‘kids my age.’” It was true. Ulraj and Wadi were exceptions to the rule, and even interactions with them had been rough at first. It had been four years since he met them, and they were still just about his only friends.

Zak just didn’t do ‘normal’ very well. Sure, he could integrate himself into a group for the sake of information gathering, but that usually didn’t last very long. Thirty minutes, tops.

“I know,” said Doc. “But sometimes people will say things to and around kids that they wouldn’t otherwise, and we want to be thorough. Make sure we’re inviting ethical people. No more Abbies.”

“I guess that makes sense,” said Zak. He sighed. He knew Fisk wouldn’t be able to come. Most of the time, they were able to get away with people assuming he was a guy in a suit, or just ignoring him in favor of much more obvious, more immediately dangerous cryptids, but that wouldn’t be something they could get away with when it came to prolonged contact.

It never seemed fair to Fisk.

(Cryptids always seemed to get the short end of the stick. Even the ones who were as intelligent as any human.)

“You don’t have to be friends with them,” said Doc, putting a hand on Zak’s shoulder. “Just like we don’t have to accept the Fentons into the Secret Scientists... But give it a chance?”

“Okay,” said Zak, shrugging. “A chance.”

Danny loved his parents. They loved him. He knew that they were brilliant scientists who had made incredible breakthroughs in a difficult and poorly regarded field. They deserved recognition and funding. They had no colleagues with whom to correspond or test ideas with. They had no real friends. They deserved that, too.

All in all, Danny thought they deserved the position in the think tank that was about it interview them.

But Danny felt sick at the idea of them spreading their biased and hateful theories about ghosts to yet another group. He hated the very thought of even more people, more scientists, more people who were trying to do good in the world, calling him and the other ghosts evil just because of the way they existed.

But he didn’t know how to stop it. Not without revealing himself, and he was too much of a coward to do that.

... Maybe he could convince their kid he was a jerk?

Ugh, no. As inconsiderate as he could be unintentionally, he was incapable of being a jerk on purpose. Unless the person deserved it.

(Jazz had once theorized that it had to do with his ghostly Obsession of helping others. Danny theorized that not all aspects of his personality had to do with him being a ghost. Jazz had dropped the theory shortly thereafter.)

He was worried.

Could pull a Harry Potter and drop a cake on someone’s head. Would that work?

Unlikely.

There was one option, but it was a bit of a longshot. He could tell the interviewers that he had doubts about his parents’ work and conclusions. But would they believe him? He was just a teenager. Easy to dismiss.

What if he approached them as Phantom?

(What if they were just as gun-happy as his parents?)

This was hard.

He sighed, and swung himself off his bed. Regardless of what he actually did, he needed to make himself ‘presentable,’ otherwise he’d never hear the end of it.

Although, concerning his appearance and his secrets... He tugged lightly on the lock of gray hair he’d sprouted lately. It had become a nervous habit. One he really needed to stop, because drawing attention to white hair on his head was not something he wanted to do.

Maybe be should start dying his hair?

“Danny?” called Maddie from downstairs. “The Saturday’s are here! Come on down!”

Danny clattered down the stairs, being loud on purpose (the better to be undetected when he wanted to be quiet).

The Saturdays... Huh. Danny had not expected to ever see another family wearing jumpsuits. Much less orange jumpsuits. Jack looked overjoyed.

The Saturdays’ jumpsuits looked just slightly more combat ready, however. Danny’s stomach, which had already been sitting rather low in his chest, plummeted.

He did not foresee this going well in any way, shape, or form.

He forced himself to turn his attention towards the son. Who was color coordinated with his parents, but not, thankfully, wearing a jumpsuit.

(Interestingly, he did, however, appear to be armed.)

“Hi,” said Danny, waving slightly in greeting.

“This is our son, Danny,” said Maddie. “Our daughter, Jazz, is at a study group right now, but she should be home before too long. Danny, this is Doctor Solomon Saturday, his wife, Drew, and their son, Zak.”

Zak smiled at Danny in a slightly strained, awkward way. His teeth were just a little sharper than human average. There were flecks of orange and gold in his eyes.

This was a person who wasn’t quite human.

Maybe this would be easier than Danny thought. He tugged on his lock of white hair. “Prematurely grey buddies, huh?” he said.

“Oh,” said Zak, touching his own, much larger, tuft of white hair. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Um,” said Danny, acutely aware of all the parental eyes on him. “Video games?”

“Sure,” said Zak.

“Great,” said Danny. “Let’s go.”

Zak followed Danny upstairs.

He was 99% certain the other boy wasn’t entirely human. He wasn’t sure if it was simply intuition, or some remnant of his Kur powers, but he would put money on it. If, well, he had anyone who’d bet with him.

(Doyle, maybe, but Doyle wasn’t here.)

(Where had this intuition been with Argost? That’s what he wanted to know.)

“So,” said Danny, rocking slightly. “Do you play Doom?”

“Now and then,” said Zak. “Kinda prefer older games.”

“How old?”

“Uh... I kind of like the pokemon games on the 64?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve got a couple of those,” said Danny. “Um.” He flopped down in a beanbag chair. “Just... make yourself at home, I guess?”

“Thanks,” said Zak, managing to catch the controller Danny tossed at him and sitting in the desk chair.

“So...” said Danny, not making a move to turn on the system. “This is going to be weird to ask, but, um. Do your parents know you’re not totally human?”

Zak stared. He... hadn’t expected Danny to be able to tell that he had been Kur, much less come right out and ask him about it.

“Or... you know what, forget I said anything. It’s just a joke, haha, so, games-”

“Do yours know?”

Danny frowned. “That you’re not human?”

“No, that you aren’t human.”

Danny looked away. “No,” he said, fiddling with the controller. “They’re not... very good about that kind of stuff. If your parents are, that’s good. It’s just...” He rubbed the cord of the controller between his fingers. “Mom and Dad are great at the technical side of things, but they don’t like being wrong. And they think ghosts are unfeeling and mindless, so...”

“Oh,” said Zak. “Um. Are you,” he stopped, realizing that asking someone if they were dead was probably not a great idea. He slumped down in his seat. “I’ll tell my parents.”

“Yeah, if you could not tell them about me and just, like, the other bit, that’d be great.”

“I can do that,” said Zak.

Jazz carefully placed an envelope under the windshield wiper of the Saturdays’ car. Knowing her brother, he was probably going to try something dramatic, but if these people were serious about being scientists, she was sure they would take evidence and data regarding the intelligence of ghosts much better.

And Danny had thought he was just humoring her when he helped her interview those ghosts! Thought she had no other motives other than curiosity!

Well. Honestly, he was right. Back then, she didn’t know there was a think tank considering inviting her parents to join.

But, hey, it came in handy, didn’t it?

“It’s such a shame,” said Drew, writing her recommendation against the Fentons joining the Secret Scientists. “They seemed like such nice people.”

“Yeah, but if both their kids are telling us they shouldn’t be let in,” said Zak, “and they don’t even know about the Secret Scientists, they think you’re just part of a think tank, how nice can they really be?”

Drew made a face, and reached over to give Zak a quick hug, which he just as quickly escaped.

“The daughter, though,” said Doc. “She has a good foundation, here, with her research.”

“Maybe once she graduates high school,” said Drew. “We have scholarships, don’t we? Or maybe an internship... Cryptid psychology might interest her...”

“What about Danny?” asked Zak, yelping as Fisk snuck up behind him and poked him.

“Hrrade hhr hrend?” said Fisk, slyly.

Zak narrowed his eyes. “Maybe,” he said.

“We’ll keep an eye on them,” promised Doc. “All the Fentons. Just in case.”

#danny phantom #secret saturdays #dp/ss crossover #ask #answer #prompt #prompt fill #one shot #no seriously guys this is a one shot

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writingsbychlo · 3 years

Note

you and mitch attending a halloween party, and mitch leaves you alone for one minute and some creepy dude starts hitting on you

You sent this in so long ago but I mean, Mitchtober? Halloween? it had to be saved. this has been in the queue since April.

matching costumes? I think yes. it was Mitch’s idea, too. He knows he locked himself away after everything that happened, and you’ve always been so patient with him. He knew you were different from the second he met you, though, because the small smile he gave you when he politely shook your hand when Stan introduced you was the first one he gave out that wasn’t fake.

After that, it had taken a full year of him coming to terms with the fact that he not only deeply admired you as an agent, but also deeply admired you as a person, (and also that he wanted to fuck you senseless) until he was finally ready to make a move. One that you had been long anticipating, apparently, if that wicked smirk he’d come to know well over the last year was any indication. A year later, Mitch felt like a new man. He smiled, and he laughed, and he loved, when he was with you.

So, when he’d found out that you loved Halloween and were planning to go to a costume party, he’d agreed to go. He was actually thrilled with your costume choice, because it meant he could match you, without having to go all out, and he could surprise you.

He knew the second you both got home that it was going to be a wild night, because when you stepped out into the bedroom after spending an absurd amount of time in front of the bathroom mirror, he throat felt almost as tight as your leather pants must’ve been, and he feigned surprise. “You’re going as ‘Sandy’?”

“Tell me about, stud.” You shot him a wink, pouting your pretty red lips at him and pushing a strip of pink bubblegum between them as you looked over him, not that he had much time to notice because he was checking out the way your ass looked in leather and he was not disappointed. “What did you do to your hair?”

He tilted his head at you, grinning as you still hadn’t caught on, the white t-shirt and black jeans he was wearing doing nothing to give it away, and he could imagine how odd his slicked back hair must look without the final piece. Making his way to the closet, he slipped your pink jacket from its hanger, sneaking the custom made leather one he’d been hiding for two weeks with it, and pulling it over his shoulders as he handed you the final piece for your costume. “Couldn’t exactly let my Sandy go without a Danny, now could I?”

He spun around, finally revealing the ‘T-Birds’ insignia stitched into the fabric carefully, and you gasped happily. “You’re going in costume with me?!”

“Of course. Anything for you, kitten.” He grinned, your arms lacing around his neck as he scooped you up, winking as your legs wrapped around his hips and he swung then from side to side a little as he awkwardly danced around your bedroom. “We’re good at this already.”

The party itself was actually quite fun, he had to admit to that. He’d done three Jell-O shots from syringes, and you had done the same. He had danced with you once, before freeing you up to go and find your friends, all of whom were wearing similar pink jackets, apparently, this had been coordinated.

When you’d eventually migrated your way back to him, your hair had fallen from the tight ringlet curls you’d put it in and were now loose waves, your skin was slightly shiny with a thin layer of sweat from the warmth of the room and your cheeks were flushed from all your dancing. His arms wrapped around your waist, leaning back against the wall as you leant into his chest, humming happily and brushing stray stands of hair from his face as they fell from their slicked position when he looked down at you.

“You kinda’ look like you do when we just finish fucking. Except for your lipstick, I haven’t messed that up yet.” He grinned, pressing a quick peck to your lips as not to smudge it, and you grinned, bumping your nose with his.

“You wanna’ leave? You look lonely over here.”

“No, I’m having some fun. How about, we have another drink and then we go, hm?” You nodded at his offer, and he told you to stay put before he slipped away to make you both a fresh drink.

When he returned, his smile was gone.

There you were, happily waiting for him as you glanced around, politely trying to dismiss the sleazy Batman that had a hand on the wall next to your head and was pressing in closer and closer to you with each step back you took.

He knew you could take care of yourself, and that he had nothing to worry about, but you couldn’t exactly go all CIA superstar on him here, and he should be the only one close enough to you to smell the bubblegum still lingering on your breath.

“Hey, buddy! Thanks for keeping my girl company while I was gone. I think I can take it from here.” He flashed him a menacing smile, tilting his head as he stepped up beside you and the Batman had the audacity to look him up and down.

“Your girl? And what exactly are you supposed to be?” He sneered, Mitch’s face dropping as you giggled, taking a solo cup from his hands and sipping it to stifle your laughs.

“Dude, have you never watched ‘Grease’? It’s really not hard to tell we’re Danny and Sandy.”

His eyes seemed to widen for a second, and Mitch could see the red lining them, and he was sure if he took a sniff, he’d be able to smell the funky scent of bud smoke on him. “I thought you were Harley Quinn!”

“She’s wearing pink and black, Harley Quinn wears red and blue? And booty shorts? What?”

“I don’t know, the red lips and the jacket style! Maybe her ass isn’t good enough for the shorts!” Mitch’s entertainment in the guy’s stupidity slipped away the second he insulted you, and his gaze narrowed as he glared at the man before him.

“Leave. Now.” The Batman raised his hands in surrender, looking around for another woman to talk to as he left, and Mitch turned to you, the arm around your waist sliding down until it was sitting on your ass, fingers tucked into the back pocket as he squeezed lightly. “Your ass is fucking fantastic, for the record. You could absolutely pull of Harley Quinn.”

“Those tiny shorts that look like underwear? Not my thing. If I wore those, that means I’d have to let you walk around wearing a coat and no shirt, and we both know I get way too jealous for that.” He chuckled, sipping his drink and nodding as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“I’m the only one that gets to see you in your panties, because I like to rip them off of you a second later. I don’t think I could spend a whole night not being able to.” You grinned, your arms looping around his neck as you tossed your emptied cup away and onto the floor.

“You know, these leather pants are really tight. Too tight for panties to be worn underneath.” Mitch groaned, looking down at you as his gaze darkened.

“How about we go home and I rip these off of you instead, then?” He teased, trailing kisses along your jaw before pulling back and finishing his own drink.

“Sounds like a plan.”

#mitchtober #mitch-tober #mitch month #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp/reader

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spacesuitsforemergency · 4 years

Text

USM Team with a S/O Hiding Their Powers

Requested by anon: Umm how does a usm headcanon of when their s/o gets kidnapped and they're like oof i need to save them and then they get their and the s/o if kicking the villains ass with superpowers that the team didn't know they had?

A/N: I went ahead and just specified a superpower, and that their S/O doesn’t know they’re superhero’s, hope that’s cool! <3

Danny Rand

⁃ He’s panicked and worried, but keeps his composure and focuses on getting to you

⁃ He bursts in, Iron Fist activated and ready to go

⁃ He sees you...walking through them?!

⁃ You phase through a bad guy and kick him down, phasing through another’s swing and clocking them in the face

⁃ He just watches in awe as you fight, easily overpowering the men

⁃ You knock out the last guy, brush yourself off, then see him

⁃ ‘I got this, Iron Fist’

⁃ ‘Uh...’

⁃ He takes off his mask, and you both just kinda stare at each other

⁃ ‘Wait you have powers too’

⁃ ‘...no’

Ava Ayala

⁃ Quickly tracks you down and doesn’t even remember to call for backup

⁃ She sprints over rooftops, running as fast as she can to the location you were being held at

⁃ She sneaks into the facility through the vents, and hears your voice up ahead. She kicks out the panel, looks out and her jaw drops

⁃ You’re yelling orders the men who captured you, and they’re complying?

⁃ She jumps down, and asks if you’re okay, and why they’re listening to you

⁃ You tell her you’ve got it under control, and tell her you’re using your powers on them

⁃ Apparently her S/O had the power to get people to do whatever they wanted them to do this entire time and she didn’t realize it

⁃ Doesn’t mention it and doesn’t tell you she’s White Tiger. Yet

Sam Alexander

⁃ Doesn’t hesitate in the slightest to go rescue you

⁃ He does it by himself, because he didn’t even think about calling the team, his only priority was you

⁃ When he gets to the base he just flies right in, and doesn’t think about a plan or consequences

⁃ He starts blasting at everyone, eyes scanning the place for you

⁃ He grabs ahold of some guy and demands to know where they took you

⁃ Once he finally finds the room the guy said you were being held in, he panics when e sees fire

⁃ Were they torturing you? Were you okay? Were you trapped? Was there an accident?

⁃ He shoved the door open, and sees you standing in the middle of the room, hands on fire and your face twisted in anger

⁃ ‘Y/N?!’

⁃ ‘Sam?!’

⁃ *Deepens his voice* ‘Uh...no’

⁃ ‘Samuel I know your voice’

Luke Cage

⁃ The only one who will stop and ask his team for help

⁃ He just wants you back safely, and this calls for teamwork

⁃ Fury sends him the coordinates and they’re there in record time

⁃ They stealthily sneak inside, and notice the guards are all down and it’s nearly silent

⁃ They finally find you, you’re collapsed on the floor, fingers twitching

⁃ He rushes to your side, the team calling for a medic

⁃ He notices little sparks shoot from your fingertips, accidentally zapping him

⁃ ‘Wait your S/O has powers too? Why didn’t you tell us?’

⁃ ‘I didn’t know they did’

⁃ When you wake up he forgets you don’t know he’s a superhero and asks why you hid them

⁃ ‘Wait how did you know?’

⁃ ‘Uh.....’

⁃ ‘Luke?’

⁃ ‘No. My names...Adrian’

⁃ ‘Luke. All you have is shades on’

⁃ ‘I told you that wasn’t a real disguise’

⁃ ‘Shut up, Nova!’

Peter Parker

⁃ He reacts similarly to when Harry kept getting captured

⁃ He does it by himself, saying it’s his business and his problem

⁃ He walks on the ceiling, unseen by the inexperienced villains

⁃ You end up finding him

⁃ You’re floating down the hallway, kind of like how Nova does. There’s a weird red glow around you

⁃ *shocked pikachu meme*

⁃ ‘Spider-Man? What are you doing here?’ You instantly recognize the superhero

⁃ ‘YOU’RE *insert superhero name here*?!’

⁃ ‘How do you know me?’

⁃ He’ll reveal his identity as Spider-Man to you, and it’s that one Spider-Man meme

#marvel #usm #ultimate spiderman #sam alexander #nova #danny rand #iron fist #sam alexander x reader #danny rand x reader #ava ayala x reader #ava ayala #luke cage x reader #luke cage #white tiger #power man #peter parker #peter parker x reader #ultimate spiderman x reader #spiderman

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jessicajonesrp · 3 years

Text

Round up at the Raft

Somehow, miraculously, Trish actually managed to stay quiet for the majority of the trip to the Raft. Probably because she knew that Jessica, in her pregnant, stressed out, and very sober state, could not handle much more to trigger her temper, and would likely respond to any irritations from Trish by simply jumping out of the car and hitching a cab the rest of the way.

Jessica would have thought that would be a plus, Trish’s lack of chattering, but instead, it just gave her own thoughts more time to run rampant until she felt that her skin was riddled with adrenaline that she couldn’t bleed out. She bounced her legs jaggedly from the passenger seat, and by the time they did make it to the outskirts of the East River, just off Roosevelt Island. She had been given the approximate coordinates of the location that the Raft would be made accessible to her for her visit to Phillip, and as Trish drew closer to their destination, Jessica texted back and forth with the doctor, sent ahead of her a couple of hours before, to confirm that he had arrived with the vaccinations and that all staff and prisoners had been appropriately protected against Kilgrave. She had arranged a code word ahead of time for him to use if he had any contact with Kilgrave, and when the word was not used, she could be somewhat assured that everything, so far, was going as hoped.

If the doctor could be trusted. And if the vaccines had all worked. If, if, if.

Jessica had little nervousness about seeing Phillip again, at least, that she was able to admit to herself. It would be difficult to see the impact that prison life and isolation had on her little brother, but his choices were his own, and he was lucky that he still had any kind of life at all. She hoped that he would remember that and choose to be cooperative, or at least that she would still recognize at least some pieces of the brother she loved in what the Raft was shaping him into now. But that was beyond her control and beside the point.

It was the expectation of Kilgrave popping up that jarred her, mentally and emotionally. It didn’t matter how much protection they had put in place for people or how high the chances that they would succeed, Jessica still felt strong dread and responsibility to think of all the people he had harmed already and all those he may still. Even though she was no longer vulnerable to Kilgrave’s commands, nor was Trish, Luke, or the others most important to her, it didn’t mean they couldn’t be harmed by someone who was, or that her PTSD had received that memo.

Everything on the river’s shoreline was as had been described to her- a huge garbage scow at the water’s surface, covering up the facility underneath, and although she could not see the cameras or guards, Jessica knew they were there, outside easy surface view. She scanned their surroundings, every muscle drawn taut, and checked the time. Fifteen minutes until the Raft would come to surface, twenty-five until it would submerge. Trish had driven too damn fast for someone who talked about Jessica’s reckless driving skills.

She sent Luke a quick text to let him know she and Trish had arrived, distantly aware that Trish was doing the same for Luke. When a warm hand touched her shoulder, Jessica jumped, her head almost hitting the roof of the car, and barely stopped herself from taking a swing at Trish. Trish, used to this, ducked back just out of her reach and removed her hand.

“I know you hate pep talks, so, hard as it is, I’ll refrain, even though this is absolutely the perfect time and place for one. Notice and appreciate my self control.”

She smiled, her tone playful, but she was obviously assessing Jessica, seeking to reassure in her own sneaky, totally denying it fashion. Jessica shrugged, abruptly shoving open the car’s door.

“Whatever, I don’t do appreciation. That falls under etiquette, and that’s just a waste of time. I’m going to go ahead to the shoreline and wait. Don’t come with me.”

“You still have time before you can go in,” Trish started, but ignoring her, Jessica continued forward. She noticed and was irritated that Trish also got out of the car and followed her, but didn’t comment on it. It wasn’t like the guards would let her in, she hadn’t been approved for that. If she wanted to stand there and have Jessica not talk to her, well, she would get bored faster than Jessica would, for sure.

From the distance, Jessica could hear the smooth, nearly purring engine of an expensive-sounding car, coming closer. She tensed, stopping in her tracks, and resisted the urge to turn around or look over her shoulder. It was probably Danny, coming to accompany them after all, or one of his many employees. Maybe it was even a guard of the Raft, coming in for duty.

But she heard Trish’s gasp as the car drew closer, and the other woman’s quickening footsteps as she caught up to Jessica and grabbed hold of her arm. Jessica had to turn then, but even before she saw the figure emerging from the vehicle that had just parked beside theirs, she already knew from the shaky, cold sense of dread spiking through her just who it was that had arrived.

“Jessica Jones, we meet again. With sustained effort and perseverance on my part, of course.”

Jessica held herself rigidly, noticing with absolute horror that there were three children sitting in the back of the vehicle that Kilgrave had arrived in, all between the ages of approximately five and eight years old. Even more sickening was the fact that all of the children were clearly biracial- just as her own child would be. It was a cruel, evil move, and an obviously intentional reminder of just what Kilgrave was willing to do to Jessica’s own child, if it suited his purpose or goals.

“Kilgrave,” she spat out, the word twisted and sharp on her tongue. “What did you do, put a hidden camera in every building in the city? I knew you’d end up here somehow. Fucking knew it.”

“No, I simply had bugs implanted in all of the cars under Danny Rand’s ownership that I could get people to get hold of,” he shrugged, unruffled by Jessica’s tone. “Anything to reach you. You should know by now the effort I’m willing to go to, to find you. Doesn’t that prove to you how much I love you? What is it that a man has to do for that to get through?”

“No, it proves that you’re a psychotic, sociopathic stalker who doesn’t know how to take no for an answer,” Jessica snapped, not yet taking a step towards him. “And that you’re selfish enough to care more about what you want than anyone else’s life or happiness.”

Her eyes remained on the children, who as of yet were sitting seemingly calmly in the car. She could not see from her distance if any of them had been harmed, but she knew from her own experience just how terrified and out of control they must feel.

“Persistent and devoted would be how I would describe it, but you always did have a sharp tongue. Making everything sound so ugly,” Kilgrave shook his head, making a face of displeased disagreement. “I’d say we can agree to disagree, but I suppose you rather enjoy being contrary. That’s my Jessica.”

“I’m not your anything,” Jessica snapped, taking a step towards him, every muscle tensed for confrontation, fists balled at her side. “I’m nothing to you but your victim, and I refuse to be anymore. Let those kids go. This isn’t about them, Kilgrave.”

To Trish, she ground out in an undertone, “Trish, go to the car. Right now.”

Trish licked her lips, but stood her ground. Kilgrave, to Jessica’s dismay, turned his gaze towards her.

“Patsy,” Kilgrave inclined his head towards Trish, obvious disgust in his voice. “Let me ask you, Patsy, how is it that a woman with absolutely no useful abilities or skills manages to escape my efforts to dispose of her on multiple occasions? Is it sheer luck, or do you have some sort of innate self-preservation talent that saves you when your friends cannot? I truly do want to know, now.”

It was a command- the first directed at Trish, or at anyone who had been vaccinated, since the doses had been doled out. Jessica nearly held her breath, waiting to see what would happen, her fear choking her throat when Trish opened her mouth to respond.

But rather than respond to his question, Trish closed her mouth, shook her head, and smirked.

“Too bad for you, Kevin. I don’t feel like talking to you, so it looks like for one of the very first times in your life, you aren’t going to get what you want.”

For the first time that Jessica could remember doing so of her own free will, she smiled, right there in Kilgrave’s presence. It was impossible not to when the man’s jaw had nearly dropped to his chest.

“That wasn’t an option, Patsy!” he barked, blinking furiously in an effort to regroup himself. “I asked you a question. How is it that you keep escaping death?”

“She gave you an answer, didn’t you hear her?” Jessica put in, smirking. “She said it’s none of your fucking business, and no one’s in control of her tongue but her. Including you.”

“What she said,” Trish agreed, nodding. “With slightly less profanity. But she got it right all the same.”

Kilgrave took a step back, as though Trish’s lack of response to his order was somehow a threat to him, an endangerment. Truthfully, it was, although he could not know to the extent. The vaccines worked- Jessica now had seen the proof for herself, and her heart beat faster now not with fear, but with excitement.

They were going to get him. They were going to end this, finally. They just had to get through the next few minutes first.

“How did you- this is you!” he sputtered, jabbing a finger in Jessica’s direction. “You infected her somehow. Always you, messing things up, making things harder! Why can’t you ever just let things be!”

“Because I have a mind and will of my own, and it isn’t your fucking place to steal it,” Jessica snapped back. “Now get down on the ground, on your stomach, hands behind your back, unless you want me to break your neck. Again. And if you have any other little soldiers in hiding, call them off.”

But Kilgrave didn’t respond. When Jessica sprung forward, grabbing him and far from gently throwing him down and into a restraint on the ground herself, she heard Trish gasp, sucking in a breath. Kilgrave, unresisting beneath her, laughed softly to himself.

“I have to say, Jessie, this brings back fond memories. I always did like you on top.”

“Shut the fuck up!” she snarled, giving him a vicious shake.

She drew back her fist to punch him, hard enough to knock him unconscious, but Trish’s sharp calling of her name caused her to look up, then follow her pointing finger to the children, still seated in the car Kilgrave had driven up in. Only now, each of them held a knife to their tiny throats, digging in just enough that Jessica saw small beads of blood come to the surface of their skin.

Clearly, they had been holding the knives in their laps, just waiting for Kilgrave to be harmed or restrained. What the fuck was she supposed to do now?

Kilgrave laughed, understanding even as Jessica forced his face into the dirt what was happening.

“Try it, Jessie, go ahead and kill me. What’s three more deaths, when you can take down big bad me? It’s worth it, isn’t it? Just a few more deaths on your conscience, so what if they happen to be little kids?”

Jessica froze, stricken with indecision for several seconds. Then, making a decision, she released Kilgrave, throwing him off and away from her. When the children did not further harm themselves, watching solemnly, fear and pain stark in their wide eyes, and Kilgrave, chuckling, started to get to his feet, Jessica blocked out the words he was saying. Instead she took one long jump, landing somewhat gracelessly next to the children in the car, and tugged open the back door. She pried the knives out of each child’s hand, despite their screams and protesting efforts to regain them, and easily broke the knives into pieces before flinging them hard into the East River. As the children pushed past her out of the car, rushing towards the water’s edge in an effort to retrieve the pieces of knife that were already washing past their ability to find, Jessica grabbed one of them by the wrist, hesitating with a guilty grimace.

“Sorry, kid, I have to.”

She hit him, with just enough restraint that she prayed it wouldn’t’ cause permanent head injuries, but enough that the child went unconscious. She lay him down gently and snagged a second child. Trish, seeing what her intentions were, used what Jessica assumed to be some of the ninja skills Danny had been teaching her to restrain Kilgrave, even as Jessica rendered the second and last child unconscious and therefore safe from self harm. Coming back to Kilgrave, Jessica shook her head.

“You don’t know me. You never did, you never will. And you will never touch me or anyone else again.”

Kilgrave flinched, knowing what was coming even before she knocked him out in one blow. She had considered making it a killing one, but at the last second, although she couldn’t explain to herself why, she drew it back, just enough to save his life. Trish, still holding his now limp body gingerly and with disgust, looked up at Jessica, eyes serious.

“Jess, there’s less than two minutes left of the Raft being above surface, we have to get him in there, fast!”

Jessica had barely registered the Raft rising above the water, able to be accessed. She certainly hadn’t been keeping track of time. She would have been impressed by Trish’s ability to track time while simultaneously battling a psychopath, but there were more important matters at hand.

“Then give him to me,” she ground out, already mentally accepting her inability to see Phillip. “I’ve got this.”

She snatched him from Trish, jumping from where she stood the forty feet or so distance to the Raft’s surface with Kilgrave slung over her shoulder like a potato sack. The guards, standing ready to confirm her identity and purpose for her admission, seemed unfazed as she shoved him at them.

“This is Kilgrave, the one you had to get the shots for. Newest prisoner. Don’t know or care what proper protocol for admission is, he needs to be in here. Now, and forever. Don’t trust him, and don’t fuck this up. Someone will call you later if you need.”

Abruptly she leapt back onto shore, just in time to see the stoic guards putting obviously specialized cuffs on his wrists and punching in codes to take him inside. As the Raft began to descend beneath the water’s surface once more, Jessica let her shoulders sag, her heartbeat finally beginning to slow. She could see Trish checking the children’s vitals from the corner of her eyes, making sure they were all stable, but just for the moment, she closed her eyes, letting herself breathe.

It was over, again. At least for now.

Taking out her phone, she texted Luke. “Out of Raft. Not that I went in. Kilgrave showed. He’s their newest prisoner now.”

#jessica jones #jessica jones roleplay #luke cage roleplay #luke cage #trish walker #trish walker roleplay #kilgrave #kilgrave roleplay

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fandomrewrites · 3 years

Text

Season 3a; Episode 2: Chaos Rising

Hello all! This chapter is my longest yet! I hope you enjoy it and as always constructive criticism is appreciated. Make sure to let me know if you want to get added to the taglist!

Season 3a; Episode 2: Chaos Rising

Pairings: Scott McCall x Twin Sister, Lydia Martin x Best Friend, Isaac Lahey x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of fighting and death

Word Count: 4,662

Season 3a masterlist

I stood leaning against the wall in Derek's loft watching as a nervous Isaac paced the room. Derek sat patiently at a work table, also watching the nervous teenager.

"I'm starting to not like this idea. It sounds dangerous. I definitely don't like it. And I definitely don't like him." Isaac states.

I bite my lip as Derek tries to reassure his Beta, "You'll be fine."

"Why does it have to be him?"

"He knows how to do it. I don't. It'd be more dangerous if I tried it myself."

"You know Scott and (Y/N) don't trust him." I nodded in agreement with Isaac's statement, "And personally, I trust them."

"Do you trust me?"

"Yeah." He answers without hesitation, "But I still don't like him."

"No one likes him."

"Ain't that the truth." I speak up for the first time since the conversation started. I make my way over to Isaac to try and comfort him a little more as the steel door of Derek's loft opens revealing Peter.

"Boys, (Y/N). Just an FYI. Yes, coming back from the dead left my abilities somewhat impaired, but the hearing? Still works. So I hope you're comfortable saying whatever it is you're feeling straight to my face." He says.

"You're an ass." I state.

At the same time Derek says, "We don't like you." He briefly looks at me then continues, "Now shut up and help us."

"Fair enough." Peter says, pulling his lips into a thin line.

Peter snaps his hand open to reveal his claws. I give Isaac a quick kiss on the cheek and squeeze his hand, "You'll be alright."

He nods and sits in a chair, nervously gripping the arm rests. He flinches as Peter gently touches his neck with his claws. "Relax. I'll get more out of you if you're calm."

Isaac's eyes connect with mine, I nod as confidently as I can to try and reassure him that everything will be fine. He takes a deep breath, relaxing. Derek and I look on as Peter readjusts his claws, trying to find the right placement.

"How do you know how to do this?" Isaac asks.

"It's an old ritual. Used mostly by Alphas since it's a skill that requires quite a bit of practice. One little slip and you could paralyze someone. Or kill them."

"Have you had a lot of practice?"

"I never paralyzed anyone." Peter simply states.

"Wait does that mean-" Isaac's sentence is cut off as Peter jams his claws in his neck. My eyes widen slightly but I stay still, heart beating rapidly as I watch both werewolves eyes light up.

Isaac jerks up in his chair, Derek moves forward to intervene but Peter's voice stops him, "Wait. I see them."

A few moments later Peter yanks his hand free of Isaac's neck, staggering back and breathless. I rush to Isaac as he starts to dip forward as if he was going to pass out. I gently push him back in the seat and grab his face, pushing his hair off his forehead.

Derek glances at Isaac to make sure he's alright before he addresses his uncle, "What did you see?"

"Not much. It was confusing. Vague images, phrases-"

"But you saw something." Derek interrupts.

Peter nods, "Isaac found them."

"Erica and Boyd?"

"I barely saw them. Just glimpses."

"But you saw them?" Derek questions.

Peter nods once more, his clawed hand squeezing into a fist, "And worse."

"Deucalion."

"He was talking to them. Something about time running out."

"What does that mean?" Isaac asks, turning in his seat to look at Peter.

Derek is the one to answer though, looking at Peter for conformation, "He's going to kill them."

"He didn't say that. But he did make a promise. That by the full moon, they'd both be dead." Peter says.

"The next full moon?"

Peter nods. "But that's tomorrow night." I say from my crouched position beside Isaac.

Peter nods once more.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Later in the day Scott told Derek and I that he, Lydia, and Allison needed to show us something. So we met in an empty classroom at the school, Stiles with us too of course. Since Derek and I were the two that didn't know what this was about we stood in front of the other four.

Allison and Lydia hold out their arms placing them next to each other. They both have bruises that make an odd shape. Derek looks up making eye contact with Allison and glares. She glares back as Derek says, "I don't see anything."

"Look again." Scott insists.

"How is a bruise going to tell me where Erica and Boyd are?"

"It's the same on both arms. Exactly the same."

"It's nothing." Derek argues.

"Pareidolia. Seeing patterns that aren't there. It's a subset of apophenia." Lydia states.

"What she said." Derek nods towards Lydia.

"Take another look."

"Scott, just stop. Clearly he doesn't see anything." I say.

"They're trying to help."

"These two?" Derek questions raising his eyebrows, "This one who used me to resurrect my psychotic uncle.” He points to Lydia then turns to point at Allison, “And this one who shot about thirty arrows into me and my pack?"

"To be fair, Lydia using you wasn't really her fault." I say, shrugging.

"And no one died." Stiles states, "There might have been some maiming. A little mangling. But no death. I call that an important distinction."

"My mother died." Allison says.

"Your family's little honor code killed your mother. Not me." Derek snaps.

"He has a point." I mumble, earning a glare from the young hunter. I quickly avert my eyes and hold up my hands in an act of surrender.

"Okay, can everyone back off for a second?" Scott questions.

Allison looks back at Derek, "That girl was looking for Scott and (Y/N). I'm here to help them. Not you."

"You want to help? Find something real." The Alpha states.

He turns to leave being stopped by Scott who starts a whispered conversation that I can't help but listen in on. "Give her a chance. We're all on the same side now."

"Then maybe you should tell her what her mother was actually trying to do that night." I knit my eyebrows together at that statement as I watched Derek leave.

As soon as we disperse, I ask Scott, "What did Derek mean?" Scott raises an eyebrow, "What was Allison's mom trying to do that night?"

Scott sighs, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Scott." I warn.

"She tried to kill me. She found out that Allison and I were still seeing each other and she wasn't happy. Derek saved my life."

My eyes widen in shock and I nod, trying to process what Scott just told me. Stiles then speaks trying to change the topic, "What does a pack of Alphas want with Erica and Boyd?"

"I'm not sure it's them they want." Scott answers.

"What- Derek? Like they're recruiting?"

But Scott doesn't answer as something catches his eye. As Stiles and I walk ahead, we slow when we realize that Scott isn't with us anymore. "Scott?" I ask. At the sound of his name he shakes his head and catches up.

*_*_*_*_*_*

I sit behind Scott in Coach's class waiting for the lesson to begin. Coach slams a book down on his desk to get the class's attention. "The stock market is based on two principles. What are they?" he questions, looking out at the sea of students.

Scott raises his hand, "Yes, McCall, you can go to the bathroom."

I smile and shake my head as Scott answers, "Coach, I know the answer."

"You serious?"

"It's risk and reward." I lay my hand on Scott's shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze, showing that I'm proud of him.

"Who are you and what have you done with McCall? Don't answer that. I like you better." He then turns away from Scott to address the class, "Does anyone have a quarter?"

Stiles hastily reaches into his pocket to pull one out. But along with the quarter an XXL condom falls out. I watch Stiles horrified face quickly become red.

Coach picks the condom up, handing it to Stiles, "Stilinski, I believe you dropped this. And... congratulations."

I hold a hand to my mouth to try and stifle my giggles. I lean over to whisper, "Getting lucky, Stiles?" He sends me a glare as Scott's body starts to shake with a silent laugh.

I turn my attention back to Coach just as Danny asks, "What's the reward?"

"You don't have to take the pop quiz tomorrow."

"Coach, it's not a pop quiz if you tell us about it."

"Danny, to be honest, I really expect more from you by now."

He yanks the quarter off of Danny's desk and places it on Scott’s, "The risk, McCall, is if you don't get the quarter in, you take the pop - you take the quiz - and you have to write an essay. Risk: More work. Reward: No work. Or: Choose not to play."

Scott picks up the quarter as he thinks, "But isn't this just chance?"

"No. You know your abilities. Coordination, focus, past experience. All affecting the outcome. So what's it going to be, McCall? More work? No work? Or choose not to play?"

Scott takes one last look at the quarter in his hand then sets it back down on his desk. Coach picks it up, "No play! Other McCall, what about you?"

He sets the quarter in front of me and I smirk. I reach for the quarter and stand up, flipping my hair over my shoulder as I make my way to the front of the room. "That's what I'm talking about (Y/N), show them how it's done." Coach says happily.

I bend down slightly, quarter held between my thumb and forefinger. I line up my shot and let the quarter go, bouncing it straight into the mug. I smile brightly retrieving the quarter from the mug and handing it off to Coach. "Good, no work for (Y/N). Who's next?"

Stiles jumps up ready for a turn, "There's a gambling man." Coach says as he hands Stiles the quarter.

As he's lining up his shot though, the door opens, Sheriff Stilinski standing in the doorway, "Stiles -" Coach starts to speak.

"Yeah, Coach, I got this." Stiles says.

"Stiles." His dad speaks, breaking the teenagers concentration.

He glances back and moves to step into the hall with his dad. Scott and I instantly use our heightened senses to hear what's going on, "I couldn't find her. I thought she'd just hooked up with her other friends. Has no one really seen her since last night?"

"We've put out an A-P-B. But, Stiles, all of her friends say you were the last person who saw her."

"Me?"

"We're hoping it's just some bad decisions brought on by too much to drink. But if you remember anything else, you call me. Okay?"

*_*_*_*_*_*

After Coach's class I make my way to the library with Lydia and Allison. Sitting down at a table to work on some homework I hear Lydia speak, breaking the silence, "I want one."

I look up and Allison and I follow her gaze to the twins, "Which one?" Allison asks.

"The straight one, obviously." Lydia answers.

I bite my lip as I watch Lydia stand up and make her way over towards the twins, not liking the idea of my best friend getting with a werewolf that I know nothing about.

"Hey, what if it's not a symbol? What if it's actually a logo?" Allison asks.

She looks up to see Lydia with one of the twins and Danny with the other. Then she looks at me, waiting for an answer, "It's not a logo I recognize, but it's possible."

*_*_*_*_*_*

After school Scott, Stiles, Derek, Isaac and I meet at the animal clinic to get Deaton's help with Isaac's memory. We filled a tub with ice water as Isaac tentatively reached a finger out to touch the water.

"Obviously, it's not going to be particularly comfortable. But if we can slow your heart rate down enough you'll slip into a trance - like state." Dr. Deaton says to Isaac.

"Like being hypnotized?" Isaac asks.

"Exactly. You'll be half transformed. It'll let us access your subconscious mind."

"How slow does his heart rate need to be?" Scott questions the vet.

"Very slow."

"And uh, how slow is very slow exactly?" I ask, starting to feel nervous.

"Nearly dead."

I gulp as Isaac asks, "But it's safe, right?"

"Do you want me to answer honestly?"

"Not really."

My eyes are locked on Isaac's worry evident on both of our faces, before either can say anything we hear a snapping sound. We break eye contact looking towards the sound. Stiles is pulling on latex gloves, "What?" he asks innocently when he realises everyone’s eyes are on him.

I shake my head, focusing my attention back on Isaac as he removes his shirt. "If it's too risky you don't have to do this." Derek says to his Beta.

Isaac answers by stepping into the tub and sitting down. I lean over to give him a quick peck on the lips. He shakily smiles at me, takes a couple of deep breaths, then nods to let us know that he's ready. Grabbing him by his arms, Scott and Derek plunge Isaac into the ice water.

Isaac bursts up from the icy water, gasping for breath. His eyes are glowing the Beta yellow and fangs are protruding from his mouth. "Get him back under." Deaton says.

Derek and Scott push Isaac back under as I watch nervously from the side. Stiles stands beside me, I can see from the corner of my eye that his eyes are more focused on me.

Isaac shoots up another time as Deaton says, "Hold him."

"We're trying." Gasps slip from Isaac's throat, I hold my hands up to my mouth, forgetting to breath as I watch. Finally, Isaac's body relaxes. He slips back into the ice and his breathing slows as his eyes close.

Deaton whispers, "Now remember, only I talk to him. Too many voices will confuse him and draw him out."

We all nod so Deaton continues, this time addressing Isaac. "Isaac? Can you hear me?"

"Yes. I hear you."

"This is Dr. Deaton. I'd like to ask you a few questions. Is that all right?"

"Yes, it's all right." Isaac answers, teeth chattering from the cold.

"I want you to remember it for me in as vivid detail as possible. Like you were actually there again."

"No - No, I don't want to do that." He tenses and starts to rise up from the water. Scott and Derek gently push him back, but he begins to struggle against them.

"It's all right, Isaac. They're just memories. You can't be hurt by a memory."

At Deaton's words, Isaac relaxes once more. "So let's go back to that night. To the place you found Erica and Boyd. Can you tell me what you see? Is it some kind of building? A house?"

"Not a house. The walls are stone. Like marble."

"That's perfect. Can you give me any other descriptors?"

"It's dusty. Empty."

"Like an abandoned building? Isaac?"

"Someone's here." Isaac's hand wraps around Scott's wrist.

"Isaac, relax."

"They're here - they're coming." Isaac panics.

"They can't hurt you. It's just a memory. Your memories can't hurt you."

Isaac begins to breath hard, his grip around Scott loosens. "They can't hurt you. Just relax." Finally, he releases his grip on Scott who pulls back in relief. "Good. Now tell us what you see. Tell us everything."

"I hear him. He's talking about the full moon. About being out of control when the moon rises."

"Is he talking to Erica?"

"I think. I can't see her. I can't see either of them."

"What else is he saying?" Stiles asks. I elbow him as Deaton puts a finger to his lips, reminding him to be quiet.

"Can you hear anything else?" Deaton questions.

"They're worried about what they'll do. During the moon. Worried they'll hurt each other."

Derek whispers something to Scott that I can't bring myself to listen to as my worried gaze is still locked on Isaac in the tub. "Isaac, we need to know where they are. Can you see them?"

"No."

"Do you know what kind of room it is? Is there any kind of marker? A number on a door? A sign?"

Isaac draws in a sudden breath, "They're here." He whispers.

He tenses in the water as Deaton tries to calm him, "It's alright. Just tell us--"

"No, they see me. They see me." Isaac cuts off Deaton.

"This isn't working." Derek states, leaning forward, "Isaac, where are you?"

"You're going to confuse him." Deaton says to the Alpha.

Isaac, now sounding terrified, speaks once more, "They're coming- They found me."

"Just tell us where you are." Derek says again.

"I don't know-- It's too dark." He struggles in the water, Derek grabs a hold of him.

"Where are you?"

Ice spills across the floor around Derek who tries to hold Isaac still. "His heart rate- he could go into shock." Deaton says.

I step forward, tears brimming my eyes, "Derek, stop."

"Let him go," Scott says.

But Derek ignores us both, "Where are you? What did you see?"

"A vault- it's a vault - a bank vault."

Water splashes as Isaac quickly sits up in the tub. He is now alert and excited as he climbs out of the tub with Scott and Derek's help.

"I know where they are. I saw it. I saw the name." Isaac says as I wrap a towel around him and pull him into a hug to try and warm him up. "Beacon Hills First National. It's an abandoned bank. They've been keeping them in a vault. Locked inside-"

He trails off when he looks at everyone's concerned faces. "What? What's wrong?"

"You don't remember what you said right before you came out of it?" Stiles asks.

Isaac shakes his head, confused. "You said when they caught you, they dragged you into a room. And there was a body in it."

"What body?"

"Erica. You said it was Erica."

*_*_*_*_*_*

Isaac continues to shiver as I rub my hands up and down his arms, "She's not dead." Derek insists.

"He said 'There's a dead body. It's Erica.' Doesn't exactly leave much room for interpretation." Stiles says.

"Then who was in the vault with Boyd?"

"Someone else, obviously. Maybe the Alphas are collecting strays."

Scott turns his attention to Isaac, "Maybe it was the girl on the motorcycle? The one who saved you?"

Isaac shakes his head, leaning into me for warmth, "She wasn't like us. And whoever was in the vault with Boyd was."

"What if that's how Erica died? They pit them against each other during the full moon and see who survives. It's like Werewolf Thunderdome." Stiles says.

"A werewolf fight club? C'mon, that can't be a thing." I say, eyes narrowing at the thought. “Can it?”

"Then we get them out. Tonight." Derek says.

"Be smart about this, Derek. You can't just go storming in." Deaton speaks, trying to reason with the Alpha.

"If Isaac got inside, so can we."

"But he didn't get through a vault door, did he?"

"We need a plan." Scott states.

"How do we come up with a plan to break into a bank vault in less than twenty-four hours?" Derek asks.

"Someone already did." We all turn to Stiles, who raises his phone up indicating that he found a way to get into the vault. He starts reading, "Beacon Hills First National closes doors three months after vault robbery. Doesn't say how it was robbed, but probably won't take long to find out."

"How long?"

"It's the internet. Minutes."

*_*_*_*_*_*

The next day Allison picks Lydia and I up for school. As we get out of the car we start talking about what Allison found out. "So mystery girl leaves a bruise on our arms that turns out to be the logo for a bank. What's she trying to do? Give us investment advice?" Lydia asks.

"Not at this bank. It's been closed for years."

"Allison, please tell me you aren't thinking about investigating by yourself." I question the hunter.

"Seriously, why aren't you telling Scott?" Lydia adds.

"Because according to someone I need to find something real." Allison answers. "You can't tell Scott that I think I found something, (Y/N/N)."

She pauses for a second, opening her trunk and grabbing her school bag, "Which reminds me. I can't drive you home today. I've got an errand to run after school." She says to Lydia, knowing that I was already getting a ride from Stiles.

"Allison-" I try to argue again.

"(Y/N), I'm fine. I'll be fine." She doesn't give me a chance to tell her that it's not and she'll be put in danger if she goes to explore.

*_*_*_*_*_*

After school we head to Derek's to go over the plan. Stiles unrolls a blueprint of the bank as we all crowd around to look. "Okay, see this? This is how they got in. A rooftop air conditioning vent. It leads down inside the wall of the vault which is here..."

Stiles trails off as he circles the vault with a red marker. "One of the robbers was lowered down into this shaft. The space is so small, with so little room to move, it took him twelve hours to drill through the stone wall into the vault. Then, over the entire night, they siphoned all of the cash up through that one little shaft in the wall to the guys on the roof."

"Can we fit in there?" Scott asks.

"Barely. And they patched the wall. So I'm thinking the kind of drill we need is a diamond bit-"

Derek cuts him off, "Forget the drill. If I go in first, how much space would I have?"

"What do you think you're going to do? Punch through the wall?"

"Yes. I'm going to punch through the wall."

"Oh really, tough guy? Make a fist."

Derek holds out a clenched fist. Stiles puts one hand on Derek's elbow and the other a few inches from his fist, "See this? That's maybe three inches of room to gather enough force to punch through solid-"

His sentence is cut off as Derek slams his fist against Stiles' palm. "Mother of God." He clutches his hand in agony.

"I'll get through the wall. Who's following me down?"

He looks towards the three wolves in the room. "Sorry, but not me." Peter speaks up, "You know I'm not up to fighting yet. And, honestly, with Isaac out of commission, you're not looking at good odds for yourself."

"I'm supposed to just let them die?"

"One of them is already dead."

"You're not helping." I snap, glaring at Peter. "I'm coming with you."

Derek gives a quick nod then turns to Scott, "What about you?"

"I don't know about Erica. But if Boyd's still alive, we have to do something. We have to try." Scott answers.

"But?" Derek prompts.

"Who's the other girl? The one locked in with Boyd?"

"I guess we're going to find out."

*_*_*_*_*_*

Once at the bank, Scott, Derek, and I cautiously approach through the alley behind the building. We pause under a fire escape. Scott reaches for one of the rungs but notices something, "Now I kind of wish we'd let Stiles come."

"Why?" Derek and I ask in unison.

"Because he'd be able to come up with something better than I told you so." He points to the bank name and logo, the logo is the same symbol that was bruised on Allison and Lydia's arms.

"Shut up and climb." Derek scolds. The two werewolves miss the sound of my heart beat speeding up.

Grabbing a ladder rung, Scott pauses yet again. "What?" Derek asks.

"Something I can't get out of my head."

"The moon's rising, Scott. What is it?"

"Risk and reward."

"Coach's class? What are you talking about?" I question my twin.

"We're not measuring the risk with enough information. We don't know enough."

"We know time's running out." Derek states.

"But think about it. They put the triskele on your door four months ago. What have they been doing all that time? Why wait until now?"

"Yes, Scott. We get it. It doesn't make sense, much like how last year I would have laughed in your face if you told me werewolves were real. We don't have time for this." I say.

"But what if this detail- the reason they waited- what if it's the most important one?"

"Then we don't do anything. And Boyd and Erica are dead. I know what I'm risking. My life for theirs. And I won't blame you - either of you- if you don't follow me." Derek says.

Derek then grabs the steel ladder rung of the fire escape and begins to climb. Me following closely behind and Scott following not long after.

After about 10 agonizingly long minutes Derek bursts through the wall of the vault. Scott and I tumble through just after, "Boyd?" Derek asks, he holds a hand in front of Scott and I so we are behind him.

A hulking figure is on the other side of the vault, its breath harsh and ragged. "Boyd, it's me. It's Derek."

A buzzing noise catches mine and Scott's attention. Scott pulls out his phone, "Stiles, now is not a good time-" He gets cut off by whatever Stiles is saying. I'm too focused on the figure in front of us to listen in.

"Derek, (Y/N/N). We have a problem. Really big problem." Scott speaks from behind us.

I turn to look at Scott but Derek's voice causes me to look back at the figure's in front of us, "Cora?"

"Who?" Scott and I say together.

"Cora?" Derek asks once more.

"Derek, get out. Get out of here." The girl, Cora, says.

Scott calls out, "No- no, wait!" Just as Boyd lets out a loud snarl, eyes glowing yellow. Immediately Derek and I unsheathe our claws, ready to defend ourselves.

As Derek and Scott fight Boyd I fight the girl. "You know her?" I hear Scott ask the Alpha.

"My sister- younger sister."

"I thought everyone in your family was dead?" I bluntly ask.

"Yeah, me too."

Looking over my shoulder briefly I see Allison standing at the vault door. Derek sees her approach the mountain ash lining the room, "No, don't- don't break the seal!"

"Boyd!" Allison calls, gaining the werewolves attention. The hunter swipes her hand across the seal, breaking it. Boyd and Cora both take off running, racing for freedom they haven't had in months.

Allison steps out from behind the door and is grabbed by Derek. "Don't touch her." Scott says.

"What were you thinking?" Derek asks, angry.

"That I had to do something."

"She saved our lives."

"Yeah, and put a lot of other lives in danger." I state.

Allison looks at me in shock that I was taking Derek's side, when in reality I was just stating the truth. Don't get me wrong, I'm incredibly happy that she saved our lives, but now we just have a bigger problem on our hands.

"You want to blame me? I'm not the one who turns teenagers into killers." Allison says, glaring at Derek.

"No, that's the rest of your family." Derek says.

"I made mistakes. But Gerard wasn't my fault."

"What about your mother?"

"What? What do you mean?" The hunter asks, confused.

"Tell her, Scott."

Allison turns to Scott, "What does he mean? Scott?"

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @crazy-fan-101 @rogershoe

#teen wolf rewrite #teen wolf #series rewrite #sister mccall imagine #lydia martin imagine #isaac lahey imagine

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