#And Danny is tasked with fixing that mess

[savanir]

I found your missing cat

It had taken a lot of work but about a month ago Danny finally got deep enough into A.R.G.U.S to be allowed into its Black Room. and my, what a treasure trove it is.

In the following weeks Danny has spent a lot of time finding all the lost Infinite Realms artifacts he was supposed to locate and return, as was part of his kingly duties. The Observants had been constantly on his ass about this but now that the results of his efforts are actually visible they have finally shut up.

Today though something new has gotten brought in and he’s eager to take a proper look, he could feel the Tyrant king’s influence from a distance emanating from it after all.

While on his way he noticed one of his colleagues, Miss Barbara Minerva if he remembers correctly, talking to who looks to be Wonder Woman. Danny hasn’t had the chance to do so himself yet, he’d love to introduce himself properly but he’s also a little worried about all the knowledge he has on Amazons from Lady Pandora (which he very much shouldn’t have) coming out the moment he tries to have a proper conversation.

Still he hopes nothing bad comes from those two ladies being on friendly terms. Miss Barbara's vibes are all over the place, and most often nowhere good, but who knows, maybe her being around Wonder Woman more will fix that.

He gets to his little section in the compound with the big examination table all decked out and ready for whatever. Today he gets to look at one of Pariah's lost blades, the godslayer sword.

Danny is working on getting all the murderous enhancements off of it and depowering it into something nowhere near so dangerous and deadly when something perks up within the weapon. 

Sensing a kindred protection spirit it leaps up from the blade and into Danny, happily nestling around Danny's core and starts purring up a storm. 

Danny however is violently startled out of his work. It's hard not to notice the sudden claws he feels both on his hands and feet. The spotted fur that covers seemingly his whole body now, his shifted ears, eyes and nose. And the fact he's now sporting a tail of all things. 

The Cheetah may be pleased with this new development but Danny is certainly not. 

Footsteps thunder his way, followed by a shout, "what is wrong!? I heard sounds of distress and- oh!"

"Uuuhhmmm..." What does he say!? How is he supposed to explain all this to Wonder Woman!?

She marches forward and firmly grabs his clawed hands in her own, not worried in the slightest about his now razor sharp nails, "worry not, we shall break this beastly curse that has befallen you, you have my word" 

She gives him what he thinks must be a reassuring smile, "I am Diana of Themyscira and-"

Danny isn't really listening after that, she's probably just giving him more reassurances. It's nice but she's also pretty intense. And Danny is still freaking out a little. 

"- so no need to fret"

Danny blinks,"Uh thanks, I- I'm Danny Fenton" 

"It is most pleasant to meet you Danny Fenton, even if the circumstances are quite unfortunate"

"Yeah uhm, just Danny is fine"

"Very well you may call me Diana" She nods and lets go of his hands.

Diana then wishes to see the artifact that cursed him so, aka the blade (which didn’t curse him), Danny thankfully already fully depowered the damn thing safe for some minor traces of whatever Pariah saw fit to stuff in it. 

By now Steve as well as Barbara have come to take a look themselves and though they appear startled at his new catlike appearance they are mostly just worried once Diana tells them he's cursed. 

Which he's not, this isn't a curse at all. The big cat spirit still tightly curled around his core is clearly a blessing of some sort, that'll make dealing with it all so much more complicated...

But at least Danny got to meet wonder woman right? That's cool.

[dcxdpdabbles]

How about one where Danny saves Tim after Damian cuts Tim’s line?

Danny is throwing out his trash when a hero falls into his arms. He had just finished settling the lid of the bin, stretched his two arms outwards, lacing his fingers together to pop them, and the very second he unlaced them, he heard the shout of alarm.

Glancing up, Danny watches in open astonishment as a body descends from heaven, and he barely has the time to bend his elbows into a catch as the body slams into his arms.

Thankfully, Danny was quick enough to cushion the landing with a big ectoplasm, letting it burst from his forearms and spreading into a makeshift glove that deflates as soon as he catches the body.

Owlishly, he blinks at the white lens of a mask that belongs to the man he caught. A vigilante, one of those bats, he thinks. Danny doesn't pay much attention to the news regarding them, so he has no idea who he's holding.

The other seems frozen in shock, so Danny looks at the sky, wondering where he came from. Standing at the edge is Robin, looking genuinely unsettled.

A rope swings in the wind, obviously been cut. The impaled knife shaped like an R is on the wall next to it. The same R that the kid is wearing on his uniform. His parents are genuine, but it doesn't take Danny long to figure out what happened.

The kid cut this guy's line, which could have easily killed him if not severely harmed him. In all his mature wisdom, Danny does the most natural thing to him.

He flips the bird, jolting the human in his arms into a more comfortable carry and retreating back into the manhole he had crawled out of. The kid seems startled, flipping down from the building, but it will be too late by the time he gets down.

Danny had actually placed a portal to his house in the Infinite Realms right at the diameter of the manhole. The second Danny recovers them with the metal plate, he swings back into the yard of his lovely garden and snaps his fingers to seal off the portal.

By the time the child gets the manhole cover, all he will see is the entranceway to Gotham's sewers. He may even be tempted to search for them, but Danny and his guest will be on an entirely different dimension.

The man in his arms slumps in his hold, looking utterly exhausted. "Where are we?"

"My house. Would you like to come in for some coffee?"

There is a moment where the stranger thinks it over before shrugging, "Why not."

Later, Danny realizes that the easy way Tim allowed himself to be brought inside was a facade. The little shit had just been gathering information on him before he flipped the table and attempted to beat Danny up with impressive martial arts techniques.

Then he stole his specter speeder, flying off into the Realms while Danny wheezed on the ground. Rude. He even took Danny's inbox of who knows what artifacts.

Danny was tasked with discovering their purpose and fixing them as his part-time job as a Ghostly Artifact repairman. Now, his client's stuff was stolen by a spandex-wearing weirdo from what he called the "Trash Dimension."

All because some other spandex-wearing ninja chose to cut his line.

"Crude, one of Clockwork's time amulets was in there," He mutters, wobbling to his feet and shifting into Phantom. He better catch the human before the idiot messed with a timeline. Last time, he took his trash out on a Wednesday and the usual Thursday. This is what happens when he breaks his routines.

[pinklotushere]

If you're feeling heroes

Infinite Realms: Danny Phantom x DC x Marvel AU

Ok Background set-up:

Tim Drake, convinced that Bruce Wayne is still alive, leaves Gotham to search for him, following the path of what he believes are key "historical events." His journey takes him to the desert, where he and his friends discover mysterious runes.

But instead of death befalling his team, the runes turn out to be a veil between dimensions, and they are accidentally sucked into the Infinite Realms—a multiversal space where ghosts, spirits, and lost souls wander.

>>> The Infinite Realms:

The Infinite Realms are vast, uncharted, and connected to every universe, spanning an infinite number of realities.

It's a place of eternal unrest for souls who can not settle, their energy scattered across the realms.

Ghost King Danny phantom oversees this expanse, helping souls who are unable to find peace. His primary task is to evaluate and guide the dead, but things get complicated when some souls have unstable or underdeveloped cores, making them restless or dangerous.

Meanwhile, Vlad Masters (Plasmius) has been secretly aiding Ra’s al Ghul in the mortal world, providing ectoplasm (which functions as Lazarus water in this universe) to Ra’s, in exchange for the loyalty of Ra’s dead assassins. Vlad’s ultimate goal? To usurp Danny and take the throne of the Infinite Realms for himself.

On the other side of the multiverse, thanos snaps his fingers and 50% of the people turns to dust , Peter Parker and half of humanity has been sucked into the soul stone, they dont die though,It just causes a ripple in the fabric of the multiverse, their souls arrive in the Infinite Realms.

but Peter’s left deeply resentful, confused, and struggling with an unstable core

Someone, either Frostbite or Clockwork, takes notice of Peter’s arrival and brings him to Danny for evaluation. As usual, Danny’s focus is on making sure the new arrivals don’t cause trouble, which is complicated by his deep dislike of paperwork (he’s great at physics and biochem, but don’t ask him about statistics).

Danny is swamped with the paperwork for new arrivals when Peter walks in. His appearance is unexpected—he looks like someone who should have settled, but instead, his core is unsteady and kn the verge of chattering.

Peter’s unhelpful attitude only complicates things further. Danny is immediately concerned.

Peter, a genius by nature, peeks at Danny's paperwork and recognises the problem with Danny's administrative mess and offers a solution. Danny, impressed and possibly a bit desperate, hires Peter on the spot to help with the duties of the Ghost Zone.

As things progress, Peter grows more comfortable in the Ghost Zone, though he’s reluctant to fully settle.

Danny starts offering him more and more outrageous jobs in an attempt to keep Peter nearby and help with his unstable core.

What starts as offering him a simple assistant job escalates into more absurd roles—secretary, concubine, king regent, you name it.

Danny will do anything to keep Peter around because he feels Peter’s the key to fixing the realms—and his heart.

Peter, while impressed by Danny's devotion, is wary of the increasingly bizarre proposals. His love language, however, is acts of service, and he appreciates the lengths Danny is willing to go to help him.

Meanwhile, Tim Drake is trying to blend in with the League of Assassins' ghosts in order to track down clues about Bruce.

He quickly learns that Vlad is controlling the assassins, and, much to his disbelief, Plasmius wants to dethrone Danny.

Tim has access to Danny’s historical records, and after sneaking into the archives (probably under Clockwork’s watchful eye), he realizes that Danny is by far the best leader the Infinite Realms have seen in millennia.

Tim starts to believe in Danny’s leadership—and in his own chance to make a difference.

Tim's plan is an easy two steps:

1. Break the assassins free from Vlad’s control.

2. Go to Danny and explain Vlad’s plans, hoping Danny will be indebted and help him return home to Gotham. But, Tim, ever the tactician, also knows that if he takes down Vlad, he could demand Bruce’s return as part of the bargain.

Tim’s plan goes awry when he’s blasted with ectoplasm during an altercation, which leaves him vulnerable to the strange aura of the realms. His life force begins to drain, and he’s rushed to Frostbite’s domain for care. Panic sets in because his plan isn’t completed, and the pressure causes him to blurt out that he’s come to propose a deal to Danny. But he fumbles the words, not realizing what he’s implying.

The misunderstanding spirals out of control. Tim believes he’s asking Danny for an alliance, but Danny’s court interprets this as Tim proposing marriage. In a frantic attempt to clarify things, Danny blurts out that he’s already in a courtship—with Peter.

Tim, confused but intrigued, takes one look at Peter (the “pretty boy” in question) and casually says, “I don’t mind sharing.”

In the Infinite Realms, relationships of this nature are binding—and the realms themselves interpret Tim’s words as consent to begin the courtship process. Now, Danny is trapped in a situation where, if he doesn't follow through with the courtship (and marriage), his core could shatter, causing the Realms to collapse.

Danny, now trying to keep his new “court” intact, is caught in an increasingly complicated political and personal web. He has to decide his feelings for both Peter and Tim while also trying to maintain control of the Infinite Realms. The Ghost Zone’s stability is at stake, and there’s the looming threat of Vlad’s power grab.

As the stakes get higher, Tim, Peter, and Danny form an unlikely alliance. Tim continues to investigate Vlad’s manipulation of the assassins, and Peter starts to use his genius to help stabilize Danny’s leadership—and potentially help them figure out a way to stop Vlad. And danny? Danny falls hard

[stealingyourbones]

Short DPXDC Prompts Masterlist #901-950

901. Danny is Tucker's Portal Chauffeur 902. Ectopuses in Star City 903. Catwoman is Paulina's Aunt 904. Dan and Klarion are Buddies 905. Tucker/Skulker/Roy 906. Damian/Fright Knight 907. Paulina Slime (ectoplasm) TikToker 908. Ectoplasm Fixes All 909. Paulina and Lois are Buddies 910. Dairy Ghost King AU 911. Tucker/Wally AU <3 912. Magitech User Tucker 913. Tucker is Outlaw's GITC 914. Zatanna/Dani 915. Dani Traveler to Lover AU 916. Jay Garrick is Clockwork's Favorite 917. Jazz/Cass Self Defense Class 918. Danny is Bruce's Childhood Chauffeur 919. Danny/Alfred Old Lovers AU 920. Billy & Sam are Friends :) 921. Danny is Bruce's Teacher 922. Muppet Actor Danny AU 923. Ghosts Mess with TTK 924. Frostbite Helps Jimmy Olsen 925. Abra Kadabra Possesses Skulker 926. Danny Summons JL 927. Danny Watchtower Repairman 928. Radion Bullets 929. Dionesium 930. Madame Xanadu Teaches Dani 931. Danny Grows Antlers 932. La Croix Ectoplasm 933. Harley & Danny Ghost Animal 934. Danny Meets Suicide Squad 935. Johnny 13 Messes With Intergang 936. Speedster Defeats Nocturn 937. Mad Hatter & Ghost Writer 938. Livewire & Technus 939. Tucker Made Arsenal's Arm 940. Dani Works for Task Force X 941. Wonder Woman Mentors Dani 942. Jazz Works for Jay Garrick 943. Harley and Jazz Pen Pals 944. Danny Clone Found In Cadmus 945. Jazz is Lian's Babysitter 946. Danny Slips Up During Lasso Of Truth Interrogation 947. Detective Paulina 948. Dash Security Guard 949. Tucker Works for Ivo 950. Maddie Joins Birds of Prey

[builtbybrokenbells]

11 with Danny pleaseee! <3

Prompt list here

Person A noticing person B is getting overwhelmed and helping them out.

w/c: 2k

pairing: danny x reader

warnings: fluff 🫶🏻

thank you for requesting and I’m so sorry it took so long, I hope you like it!! ♥️

“God dammit!” You exclaimed over the sound of shattering glass. The small crystals that once formed a dinner plate dramatically scattered themselves across the floor, taunting you as you felt the heat of embarrassment begin to embellish your cheeks. Tears of frustration started to prickle your eyes and you looked down over your still full hands at the mess below you. It was no comfort when the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, making you clamber to the sink and quickly place the rest of the dishes down safely.

“Bug?” The familiar voice that usually sounded with comfort cut through you like a knife. You placed your hands on the edge of the counter to support your weight as you felt the tears slowly spill over your burning cheeks. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I…” you began, feeling your lip quiver at the thought of him worrying about you. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just slipped out of my hand, is all. Don’t worry about it.” You finished, your statement coming out much stronger than you thought it would.

“It’s okay, I’ll grab a broom.” He offered.

“No, it’s okay, Danny. Go back to the living room, I can clean it up. I made the mess, anyway.” You sighed, lifting your hand to your face and wiping away the mess of mascara that was surely there. The last thing you wanted was to distract him from the company he had been so excited to have over.

He’d been talking about this specific Friday night for weeks. After months of nonstop meetings, recording, and bouts of touring, he was looking forward to finally having a day where him and his band mates weren’t required to do anything at all. The plans were set in stone, all but carved into the wall in scripture with the way he’d been radiating excitement over it, and you were more than happy to go along with them. You loved company, and you loved Danny, so it was almost blasphemy for you to have any ill feelings about a night like such. That would be true if this Friday were a normal Friday, but it had been anything but normal, so far.

When you woke, you had the intent of cleaning the house in preparation for a fun weekend of absolutely nothing, which was exactly what you and Danny wanted. When you crawled out of bed, you left him sleeping peacefully with no urge to wake him any time soon. When you walked downstairs to start your deep cleaning, you noticed a puddle of water by the sink. A pipe had sprung a leak throughout the night, and although it wasn’t a huge mess or a difficult fix, it was a poor way to start the day. You cleaned it, patched it, and were able to forget it ever happened before Danny even woke for the day. No harm, nor foul. You continued on like normal, mindlessly picking away at the other tasks on your to-do list. When it came time to run to the store and pick up all of the items you needed, you went to your car only to find you had locked your keys inside it the night before. After a moment of panic, you retrieved the spare set once you remembered they existed.

The store was fine, it had everything you needed, which was a huge relief. Things seemed like they were starting to look up until you got back in your car to drive home. That was when you noticed the gas gauge was threatening empty. You made it to the nearest gas station on fumes, and dropped your phone in the parking lot. It cracked the screen, but thankfully, it still worked. On a normal day, one or two of the inconveniences would not have fazed you at all. But, all four in the span of a morning seemed a bit excessive, leaving you cursing the universe for a few brief moments. When you got home, you vowed to brighten your spirits and put on a smile, more worried about ruining Danny’s mood than fixing your own. By the time you got back, he had gotten out of bed, but was sitting at the kitchen table with sleep still laced in his expression and a cup of coffee much too small to fix his months worth of sleep deprivation.

The sight of him alone was enough to warm your heart, to patch up any lingering wounds from the mornings unexpected happenings. You two cleaned together, talked, and shared excitement over the night that was bound to be good. But, you always failed to realize that pressure was not how a night full of good memories was made, and it inevitably caught up to you. By the time the boys arrived, dinner was not finished and you still had a mental list of things you wished you could have completed. You shooed Danny and his band mates away to allow them some much needed rest and relaxation while you bustled to cover your trail of chores that you hadn’t yet gotten done. You should have known that rushing wouldn’t get you anywhere, but in attempt to sit down faster, you had forgotten about the tray of cookies you threw in the oven after dinner was taken out to cool.

With the smell of burnt cookies lingering in the air, you couldn’t even seem to enjoy the meal you’d made, leaving you antsy to get up and away from everyone. As soon as the plates were cleared, you ushered everyone off once again, to have fun and drink while you did the dishes. In the midst of burying yourself in cleanup, you had tried to cut a corner and pile the dishes in your arms to make one trip to the sink. It worked well at first, but ultimately the top plate slipped, leading into the exact situation you found yourself in, now.

“Just because it’s your mess doesn’t mean I can’t help.” He said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Before you could protest, he had slipped away and was off to find a broom. The crushing guilt of making him work on a much needed day off was overwhelming. You had tried so hard all day to make sure he didn’t have to do anything extraneous, and now he was stuck helping you while his best friends were laughing in the other room. Within minutes, he was back, sweeping up the glass with the utmost of caution, sure to not miss even a sliver. “Take your slippers off, make sure there’s none stuck to the bottom of them.” He said, finally looking up and noticing that you hadn’t yet moved from your position. “Hey,” he said, dumping the mess of shattered plate into the garbage bin. He discarded the broom, less worried about damage control, and most worried about you.

You felt his hand on your back. It was large, warm, and radiated love just with a simple touch. He gently turned you to face him, immediately noticing the puffy eyes and red nose. He lifted your chin, softly guiding you to look at him.

“I’m sorry.” You sighed, not only embarrassed over the mess you had made, but embarrassed for crying over a broken plate.

“No apologies needed.” He whispered, the corners of his lips upturning into a small, reassuring smile. “No need to cry over a broken plate, and no need to feel bad about anything.” He leaned down, placing a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes fluttered closed, grateful that you had someone so willing to give you so much love, all of the time. “You need to take a break. You’ve been running around all day.” He said, his thumb drifting over your cheek as he spoke. “I should have helped more.”

“No, it’s okay.” You assured him. “Just tried to do too much at once, I promise I’m okay.”

“You’re overwhelmed, bug. You could’ve hurt yourself, and nobody wants that.” He said, pulling you into a hug. With your face pressed into his chest, you finally felt the tension that had been building all day come to a sudden halt. You held on to him tighter than you ever had before, surrounding yourself in him. He seemed to make everything better without even having to try.

“Ijustwantedyoutohaveagoodday.” The words were jumbled, barely audible due to your face being smooshed into his chest. He let out a chuckle, pulling back slightly to give you a chance to speak. “I just wanted you to have a good day,” you sighed, repeating yourself so he could hear you. “You’ve been working so hard, and you were so excited to just relax today, and I wanted to make sure you got that. I didn’t want to bother you, or anything.” The look he gave you surpassed shock.

“Bother me?” He asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “Never.” He shut the idea down before it could grow into anything more. “And I did have a good day, y/n. Still am. You know why?”

“Why?” You answered, voice barely above a whisper.

“Because of you.” He said, cupping your cheek in his hand. “I get to wake up to you every morning, so every day is good. And the only way I have a really good day is when I know you’re okay, too.” You felt your eyes brimming with tears again, but not from the overwhelming amount of work you had piled on yourself; it was because of how loved he made you feel. “I want you to ask for help when you need it. I’d rather work hard together for twenty minutes instead of you getting overwhelmed while trying to do it all yourself.”

“I love you,” you said, finally feeling a smile creep up on you.

“I love you.” He said, more sure of those three words than anything else in the world. “Now it’s your turn to relax. Have a glass of wine, sit down, laugh for a while.”

“I only have a few more things to do, I promise I’ll come join in a minute.”

“Ah,” he warned, shaking his head. You rolled your eyes, but ultimately knew that there was no point in arguing.

“Fine.” You agreed. A triumphant smile graced his lips as he leaned down for a kiss. When his lips met yours, all of your stress melted away almost instantly. He was reluctant to pull away, so when he did, he stole another quick peck before straightening up.

“I’ll do the dishes tomorrow, and you can stay in bed all day, if you want. From now on, tonight’s about cheering you up.” He said.

“Danny-“

“Hey!” He cut you off, a chuckle following the sharp word. “Making sure you’re okay is exactly how I want to spend my night. When you’re happy, I’m happy.” Your heart swelled with affection for the boy in front of you. He raised an eyebrow, anticipating your answer. You let out a giggle, but nodded in agreement. “Seriously, take those slippers off, though. Just in case.”

“Oh, yeah.” You said, quickly shuffling out of them and leaving them where they were. He turned to the fridge, opening it and quickly locating a bottle of wine. He flashed it to you, paired with a smile that was sweeter than sugar, hoping for a stamp of approval. When you reached out to grab it, he knew you were feeling better.

You joined his side, reaching for his hand as he closed the fridge front. “Don’t ever be scared to ask for help, okay?” You gave a curt nod, knowing that you should have said something much sooner. “I love you.” He repeated it again, just to make sure you knew.

“I love you, too.” But it was impossible not to know it. He showed it in every word, action, and expression. Danny radiated love, and you knew you were the luckiest person in the whole world, because you were the one who got to receive it.

danny is so boyfriend and literally for WHAT.?

[eatlikeadairyfarmer]

What were the chores that you were stuck with? (excluding having to do Andys chores)

If you count hacking people up and cleanin' the mess, that was one of em. I enjoyed it, but It could be put on my chore list somewhere. Taking care of our guests after they been locked up, y'know, feedin' em. Makin' sure they're drugged up and not bleedin' out. I'm real good at keeping folks alive believe it or not.

I was the one getting my hands dirty the most, but that's what you'd expect when I'm the only one with past experience and no conscious to make guilty.

I was also the supply runner of sorts. I'd go out into the city and bring back shit we needed. Generators, ammunition, parts to fix the generators, that stuff. I'm real good at walking without makin' a sound.

Other chores were just whatever I was told to do. Random tasks. "Danny do this." "Danny do that." Shit, I hear it every day. Like I'm a damn dog to em or something. No schedule, it's just whatever.

[musicallyiinclined]

As the woman's companion approached the bar Danny was quick to focus elsewhere, not wanting the man to catch him staring at his date. He couldn't resist a glance her direction as the man ordered, however, and a whole host of butterflies took flight in his stomach when he saw that she was already looking at him. His lips quirked into a smile automatically, and he had to force himself to return his attention to the task at hand--fixing their drinks. He was tempted to show off a bit as he made them, to add some flourish to his movements, but he didn't trust himself enough not to mess up, and the threat of embarrassment was too high. Plus, he'd never hear the end of it from Benny. "Here you go, man," Danny said, sliding the drinks across the counter. There was something in his face that reminded Danny of a weasel, and he wondered how someone like that had managed to catch the attention of a woman that gorgeous. Must have a great personality... He didn't look like he did, though; he kinda looked like a dick. Maybe that was just Danny's jealousy talking.

Modeling taught Raisa from a young age that confidence was everything. She could walk into a room and capture everyone's attention with fire in her eyes and a smirk on her plum-painted lips, or avoid attention simply by altering her posture. She could make a man salivate with just a look, turn him to puddy in the palm of her hands, and all that translated to power. The one thing she couldn't do--the thing she'd convinced herself she never wanted, needed--was get them to truly care, to stay. She was fine on her own; it'd always been that way.

She let Weasel Face get their drinks, rolling her eyes when she heard him request something more fruit and sugar than booze. Her gaze landed on the bartender's again, and this time she gave him a smile, as if to say, Not everyone can handle a real drink. That should have been it, she should have looked away, but instead Raisa let her lashes dip, her gaze lingering, wondering if she could fluster Mr. Tall, Handsome, and Tattooed to drop a bottle or glass with little but a stare.

[gilbirda]

beauty is in the eye of the beholder

Flower shop/Tattoo parlor AU. Batman/DP crossover.

DamianxDanny (Dead Serious)

Idea by @anikuja

-------

Damian didn’t hate his job per say. He didn’t even hate working, despite what the imbecile of Todd liked to say about his ‘entitled rich kid ass’. He wasn’t even mad that he was on babysitting duty to make sure that Poison Ivy didn’t try to make a break for it and take over the world once again.

What really rubbed Damian the wrong way was not being able to solve an enigma.

In this case, the enigma that was the new trainee of the tattoo parlor Harley had set up on the other side of the street, in solidarity with her girlfriend when the flower shop had been agreed as part of her Probation period.

So far so good, but it’s true that it has only been a handful of months. Damian still believed it was all to create a false sense of security before the duo decided to fall back into crime.

Right, the trainee.

It was just a guy. Just a guy with deep blue eyes that for some reason Damian couldn’t read at all, and with a wide smile that came easily but didn’t really tell anything about him. It was like he was hiding behind a wall, showing only a part of his personality he wanted the others to see.

And Damian wanted to see it all, he wanted to see what was beyond the wall. To solve the mystery, of course.

He scoffed, his hands finishing the superb flower arrangement Ivy had asked him to do. When he asked what it was for, she just smiled and told him that he should prepare the most beautiful flowers in a bouquet. 

Talk about vagueness.

But Damian did it, and he did it perfectly, choosing the flowers he thought were the most beautiful, wondering if the bouquet was a request from a lover wishing to impress their significant other. As if the mere sight of something beautiful could somehow make love stronger - love required hard work and dedication, everybody knew that.

The doorbell rang, signaling that a new customer had entered the shop. Ivy was smiling from behind the counter as she greeted the customer - she really had gotten better at the ‘being nice’ thing.

“Is it ready yet?” A familiar voice asked. Damian’s heart skipped a beat. That annoyingly chirpy voice had been a constant since the guy - Danny, his name was Danny - had entered the shop with Harley all those weeks ago.

Ivy looked at Damian, her ‘customer service’ smile turning predatory. “Dami is just finishing it.”

The vigilante managed to control his expression just in time to not make a fool of himself when the trainee - when Danny walked further into the shop and around the big pots near the entrance. His eyes were on Damian one second too long before they landed on the bouquet he had in his hands.

Danny’s smile grew wider. “It’s so beautiful!” He approached the vigilante, eyes fixed on all the pretty flowers. “Is there any meaning, any organization?” He asked.

Ivy answered when Damian took too long to speak. “Those are Dami’s favorite flowers.”

“No,” he finally found his voice. “The most beautiful.” He corrected.

Danny liked his answer, since he made grabby hands at him. It took embarrassingly too long for Damian to realize that he wanted the bouquet.

“Thank you!” He said as he accepted the bouquet, carefully smelling the flowers. “I appreciate your input, Damian. I’ll make sure to learn how to draw these properly, I promise.”

Pamela chuckled when Damian tilted his head in confusion.

“Harley told the kid that the best way to get better at drawing something was to have real life references.”

Danny nodded. “I wanted to start with pretty flowers, so this is just what I needed.”

Later, when Danny was gone and Damian was back to doing the tasks of his job, he would curse the sun for shining just right and make Danny’s eyes bluer than they were. It was a mirage, he was sure, since there was no way that his perception had been altered in any form - it was the same closed off outsider that crashed into his routine and made a mess of his thoughts all that time ago.

Because, in that moment, when Danny smiled at him, Damian swore that the flowers in his hands weren’t as beautiful as he had believed before.

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[clairecrive]

Hello beautiful person! Do you take requests which ask you to write a second chapter for your writings? If you do, may I ask a second chapter for "Rare"? And if you don't could you please let me know so I can be careful for another time when I ask a request?

I hope this is not something that disturbes or irritates you. I love your writing, it is beautiful and sometimes I read your pieces over and over again. 😁

Thanks for blessing us with your writing. Have a nice day.💕

A/n: First of all anon, thank you so very much for your sweet words! They mean the world to me <3 Also, your request could never irritate me! I love them and I love the fact that you consider me half a decent writer enough to send me your thoughts <3 I'm sorry it took me so long to get around this but I hope you like this and are still around to read it x

I've decided to pair it with a request for juicy time with Eddie. there's no actual smut but it's suggestive let's say.

Warnings: bit of angst, fluff,

Word count: 2.4K

Tags: @mollybegger-blog, @evelynshelby, @br0ck-eddie, @fandom--0verdose, @shadow-of-wonder, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @sopxhiea, @fuseburner, @for-bebbanburg, @crazyclownchick ( fill in this form to be added to my taglist)

Part 1

TOM HARDY MASTERLIST

You weren't exactly new to heartbreak. You had been a teenager after all but your experience with adult relationships had not been that good either.

You knew that you'd be over Eddie even if it may take you some time. It's true that you had only been dating for a few months but you had really grown attached to him. It was one of the things you hated about yourself: the way you got attached way too soon, way too much.

Especially, in this case, seeing as Eddie hadn't been 100% in it in the beginning you had hoped that the more time you'd spend together, he'd see that you weren't so bad and that he'd grow to care for you. At least a little bit.

Turns out you were wrong.

As much as you hated being wrong, the thing that hurt you the most was that despite your best efforts, Eddie still didn't think you were enough for him. And how could you be when the benchmark was perfect Anne?

You stood no chance. You had been a fool for even trying. And now you were experiencing the burn for your foolishness.

This had happened often enough that you had developed a routine for dealing with heartbreak:

1) crying your heart out and indulging your sadness with whatever helped (mostly comfort food and Friends)

2) enough with indulging, it was time to pick yourself up. No more overeating although you still allowed yourself to cry if you felt like it

3) "I don't need him anyway" phase where you'd make a mental list of how your life was before and after whoever you had broken up with to remind you that they weren't as important as you made them out to be

4)"put yourself out there again" phase where you started going out again with the intention of meeting new people or simply having a good time.

As of this time, you were in phase 3. You noticed that there were some of Eddie's things littering around your apartment. So, you picked up a box and collected them with the intention of returning them to him, effectively closing this chapter. As you did, you made that aforementioned list. This time, with the added reason for your break up, it was a bit easier to remind you why breaking up had been the right decision.

When your hands closed on your favourite hoodie of his though, you couldn't help the pang in your heart as a flood of memories hit you.

You and Eddie doing a Friends marathon every Friday night.

Eddie giving this hoodie when you were sick because he knew how much you liked it.

Eddie taking the hoodie off for a whole other reason almost ripping it...

No.

Shaking your head, you pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand.

Enough of that. It was over.

It was only a week later that you finally got the time to come around Eddie's apartment. Sure, you could have called him, he could have come himself to pick them up or you could have dropped them at his job but that would have required you to call him. And recalling how that went last time you tried to reach him you decided you'd spare yourself the humiliation of him not ghosting you again.

Taking a deep breath, you straightened your shoulders and knocked on his door.

"Y/n." You were met with a dishevelled Eddie.

He looked like shit but what's new with him. He also looked very surprised to see you at his door and you also couldn't blame it for that. You would have reacted the same way if the roles were reversed.

"Hi, Eddie," you hated your treacherous voice that wobbled when you spoke. Clearing your voice, you tried again.

"Sorry to come here unannounced. I've found some of your stuff in my apartment and I thought you'd like to have them back." You explained as you handed him the box, his eyes taking it in for the first time.

"Oh," he paused as he considered your words. Was that disappointment in his voice? "Thank you, y/n. You shouldn't have." He smiled weakly as he took the box from you, your fingers touching briefly.

"It's not a problem, Eddie. I was just passing by anyway." You and Eddie actually lived far from each other. The truth is that there was no reason for you to be in this part of town if it wasn't for him. Eddie knew that but he was kind enough not to point that out.

He just nodded, accepting your words as he held the box close to his chest.

You awkwardly stared at each other for a while, you didn't know what to say but neither of you wanted to end this exchange quite yet. When you felt that you had been standing like a fool in front of your ex's door, you went to leave but Eddie beat you to it.

"So how have you been?" Your first reaction was to scoff at this attempt of small talk. Neither of you was very good at it. And truthfully, it was rich coming from someone who had not made any effort to keep in contact with you even before your breakup.

The scroll of your shoulders was the only answer Eddie got. You weren't in the mood to pretend nor did you want him to know how you were still suffering for him.

"I should ask that to you." You reverted the question to him. He really didn't look well.

"yeah, it's been a rough couple of weeks," he confessed scratching the back of his head.

"That, I don't find it hard to believe," you hummed as your eyes took him in, really took him in since you knocked at his door. You could also see behind him that his apartment was a mess.

"Yeah, don't have to worry about me though. I'm fine."

"Of course." You nodded at his dismissal, remembering harshly the situation you were in."Well, I'm going to go now. Take care." Cold but still polite you turn around, ready to put this -Eddie and this exchange- behind you.

"Y/n, wait!" he called when you were about to climb down the staircase. "Do you want to have a drink or something?" Stay for a while? he meant but didn't dare to say.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Eddie." You called over your shoulder, hand still on the railing.

"Please, I owe you an explanation." You didn't know if it was the desperate note in his voice or the fact that he really looked like shit but you turned around almost convinced.

"Don't you think it's too late for that, Eddie?"

"Maybe it won't change anything between us but you deserve to know." You knew Eddie and you knew how much he cared about transparency and honesty. This may not mean that you were going to get back together but he was right, you deserved an explanation.

"Okay," you agreed as you walked back and then into his apartment. Eddie closed the door behind him and set the box he was still holding down behind the coat hanger.

The sneak peek you had before was definitely right: Eddie's apartment was even messier than usual.

"Why does it look like a tornado hit your home?" You couldnìt help but point out. You knew Eddie wasn't that bothered by tidiness but this too much even by his standards.

"That would be my fault," a new voice answered you.

At first, you didn't register the difference in tone or accent even though you should have had because Eddieìs voice wasnìt that low or raspy. But then a black tendril entered your vision field catching your attention making you turning your head to better inspect it.

What.the.fuck??

"Eddie?" You asked perplexed, eyes fixed on this thing? even if you were addressing Eddie.

"Y/n meet Venom, Venom meet y/n." He gestured awkwardly with his hands.

"It's so nice to meet you, Eddie's always thinking about you, you know? It's a bit annoying." this time the voice didn't come from a tendril but a face. A fucking alien face with long sharp teeth and wide white eyes.

His words went straight over your head. How the fuck was this true? What were you even seeing? Did this thing come from Eddie's body??

"Fuck, I know I'm heartbroken but now I'm even seeing things?"

"Y/n," Eddie tried to get your attention. You thought you had only thought that but apparently, you had spoken the words. "You're not seeing things, this is part of the explanation I owe you."

"I think it's better if you sit," he said motioning to his couch when you did nothing but stare at Venom. Prompting by Eddie though, you sat down and listened as he spoke.

He told you everything. About Carton Drake about his project with aliens, about Venom and their rather troubled relationship. He even explained how Anne had got involved and how she and Danny had helped him.

It was definitely a lot to take in. But somehow, the thought that he could be lying to you never crossed your mind. The proof was right in front of you, wasn't it? Venom, as he had introduced himself, stood next to Eddie while he spoke. It had never spoken again and you were inwardly thankful for that. That he was giving you space to digest all of this.

"Why didn't you tell me when you came around that day, Eddie?" You asked once you thought you had wrapped your head around it.

"I didn't want you to drag you into this mess," he said with a shrug, head cast down he didn't meet your eyes.

You didn't know how you felt about all of this yet but you nodded anyway. Well, there was nothing you could do anymore, could you? He had already taken care of everything on his own and it wasn't like you had any right to worry about him anymore.

"Thank you for explaining, Eddie. I appreciate your honesty." Did this change anything for you?

"I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren't enough of if Anne meant more to me than you did. That's not true but I didn't know how to tell you that without telling you what was happening." He nervously fiddled with his fingers without meeting your eyes.

You could see his point now that you knew what happened. Still, it hurt you that he decided to just keep you out of it without a word. He could have at least told you that something was going on, that he didn't or couldn't tell you anything - not right now. You would have understood and given him space. Did he really act like this to keep you safe or was it a way to dismiss you?

"I don't know if this changes things, Eddie. You still turned up to her when a major life-threatening event happened. I think this tells me everything that I need to know." You point out after a while, eyes fixed on the end of your shoes.

"She has been involved from the moment we broke up, Y/n. Hell, this was the reason we broke up in the first place." Eddie's head snapped up at your words. He looked surprised at your words like he couldn't believe that you thought Anne's involvement had been something he had actively sought out.

"That may as well be true, Eddie but still, you didn't tell me even after everything settled down. If I hadn't come around to give you your stuff I still would be none the wiser."

"I was afraid, y/n. How could I come back to you after how much I had hurt you? 'Sorry if I went m.i.a. for a while, I was infected with a parasite who knows permanently with me?' Come on, y/n, I wouldn't take me back either." Now upset, Eddie started to gesticulate frantically to prove his point. His eyes flickered between yours, he leaned toward you, his hands a touch away from yours as if he wanted to touch you but was preventing himself from doing so.

"I'm not saying I would have believed you straight away but still- aliens are way better than self-loathing you know?" You scoff at him- why was he so upset? He wasn't the one who had been beating himself up since that fight for being a worthless piece of shit, was he?

"I know I've never done a good job at showing you but I do care about you. Deeply." Almost as if he couldn't bear to not be touching you any longer, Eddie now reached for your hands. His hold on them tightening as he spoke the words.

You looked at him for a moment. Aside from that fight, your relationship with him had been good. The start wasn't promising, seeing as he was still taken by Anne but Eddie had treated you good. He was attentive and caring in his own way. Looking back to it now, you realized that the period where you started feeling him pulling back from you was the time when this whole alien thing had started.

But now you had settled this, right? So, could this mean...

"If I give you one more chance to show you," you spoke tentatively, enthralled by the twinkle in his eyes, "do you promise me to be fully transparent with me this time around?"

"What? Why would you do that?" He looked shocked but his eyes were hopeful.

"Are you trying to talk me out of it, Eddie?" You challenged him, arching an eyebrow.

"Like hell I am." He scoffed, a smile on his lips. "Nono, of course I do. I swear, y/n. You'll never feel like you don't matter to me again."

"Good." You gave him a small smile at the gobsmacked expression on his face. Oh, Eddie...

He does nothing but stares at you for a while. Like he hadn't seen you in a while and now that you were in front of him, he wanted to commit to his memory every little detail of your face.

"So," you said after a while, "do you plan to stare at me or would you like to get a head start on your promise?" you provoke him with a suggestive tone.

Eddie's mouth fell a little at that, Venom said something to him but you didn't understand him. Shaking his head, Eddie smirks at you.

"I would like nothing more." And with that, Eddie's lips are on yours making up for the lost time.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Put your loving hand out, darling —(Sirius Black xF!Reader)

A/N: I don’t know what this is. I was in a mood and I wrote it. Also, I had to write something with this song, sorry if it’s bad -Danny

Warnings: Toxic relationship, alcohol (Sirius is tipsy). Oral (fem and male receiving) vaginal sex, and dom/sub dynamic, er, degradation ig

Words: 2,065

Twoidiots Masterlist

Listen to: Beggin’ -by Måneskin

It started when you and Sirius were seventeen.

Time seemed endless and you both felt like everything had been made for you, even each other. You were sex partners first and friends second, which meant there wasn't much talking between you two outside the bedroom.

When you graduated Hogwarts and your contact with Sirius ceased to exist, you thought nothing of it, you didn't care. A war was happening and you had things to do... Then you ran into him again.

You'd merely say a word when he pulled you closer and offered to take you to his place. Who were you to refuse? He'd only gotten better with time: Longer locks of hair, back wider and bigger hands.

One night he showed up at your place, tipsy and messed up in more than one way. You let him in and for the first time, you weren't thinking about stripping him naked and throwing him on the bed. You were slightly worried.

"You need to heal that."

"Hmm?"

"You're eyebrow. It's bleeding."

"Ah, that," He took a swig of his glass before continuing. "It's nothing."

You frowned and took the drink away from him. "You're on my couch. Get up, I don't want your blood staining my furniture."

Sirius smirked without looking at you, he pushed himself out of his seat and moved towards the bathroom, you followed him.

"How are you? Haven't seen you in a week—"

You scoffed. "You show up drunk and beaten at my house—I think I should be asking that question to you."

His grin only grew at your retort, he'd always liked teasing you when you were younger, something about getting you all red and agitated only to shut you up by kissing in lonely school corridors.

"I'm alive, aren't I? Can't seem to die even though I have nothing to live for," He replied with a bitter chuckle. "Don't worry about me, darling. I've always been smart, they'll need to try harder if they want to get rid of me."

"Trust me, if you don't look after yourself, they will," You raised a brow. "Sit down, I'm cleaning your face."

Sirius did as told and sat on the edge of your tub, your hands worked quickly while passing the wet cloth over his injuries, he didn't try to speak while you focused on your task, but once your hand moved towards the sink to grab your wand and start sealing shut his injuries, he stopped you.

"Have you ever thought of pursuing a career as a Healer? It suits you."

You rolled your eyes. "If I did then you would get in twice as much trouble just so you could flirt in the emergency room."

"Would you like that?" He smiled.

You didn't respond to his teasing, instead lifted your wand and fixed the cuts on his face. Once it was done, you grabbed a towel.

"Take a shower and come out once you're sober enough to drive back to your place."

"I'm sober," He frowned.

"Your breath says otherwise."

You walked out and he followed you like a puppy, you didn't try to push him back into the bathroom, he was an adult now, and you were not his mother.

You went to the kitchen and listened as he fell heavily on your couch.

"D'you remember when we were sixteen?"

"I do."

"The first time we slept together?"

"I do, Sirius. What about it?"

"I remember feeling like I was the king of the world," He chuckled. "Felt like a real man that'd touched a real woman. But I was just a kid— a really conceited one at that... I never understood why you chose me—anyone could've been better..."

"It was sex," You retorted without much sentiment. "I didn't care who you were, if I'm honest... you were good at it and that's all that mattered to me."

"Is it that way now as well?"

You looked over your shoulder at him, Sirius was laying on the couch and the back of it was covering most of his body, but his voice sounded vulnerable.

"What do you want, Sirius?"

"I want answers," He hummed. "You made me happy back in school, Y/N. I know you never cared, but you did. I don't think it was love... but it was something. It felt good. When we stopped having contact I missed you— don't know why, but I guess we can't control who we miss..."

You slowly made your way back to the couch and stood before him, arms crossed and waiting for the man to get to the point.

"Then I found you again and I knew that I wanted you, so I took you— but it's not... it's not what I want. I don't want to take you— I want you to take me. I want you to choose me again."

You frowned. "I don't know what you mean."

"I would've loved you had you asked me to," He sat up and stared at you with a strange ache in his eyes. "But you never asked. I waited and waited, and you never felt a thing. So I moved on because I'm not an idiot, I know when I'm not needed. Now..."

He stood up, his body towering over yours not in a threatening manner, it almost felt like it was crumbling above you, slowly cracking at the edges.

"My life isn't what I would like it to be, not that I could've done anything to fix it with a war going on..." He laughed dryly. "But perhaps it could be better."

He stretched out his hand for you to hold, you snorted.

"You got a fucking weird way of confessing your feelings, Black."

He looked down at his hand and shook his head slowly.

"I'm drunk, that's what," His gaze moved upwards and fixed on yours. "Kiss me."

You sighed. "You don't want me, Sirius. I'm not the right girl. I'm not good. I won't save you."

His hand slowly crept up your side until it was resting on your neck, his thumb grazing your pulse as he leaned forward.

"I don't want saving," He replied. "I just need to feel normal for once."

"That I can do," You retorted.

The moment your lips were on his, Sirius was a goner. You felt his arms pulling you closer and then lifting you up until your legs wrapped around him. He walked blindly towards your room and threw you on the bed, quickly tossing his shirt to the side.

You pulled your pants down along with your panties and crawled towards the edge of the mattress, Sirius stood still while your hands travelled up to his belt and unbuckled it. Excruciatingly slow, you unzipped his pants and palmed him through his underwear.

Sirius' hand closed around your wrist for a moment, you seized it and moved it to the back of your head, maintaining eye contact while pulling his boxers down. His cock was ready for you, and your hand wrapped around it expertly, your mouth watered at the sight and without wasting another minute you licked all the way from the base to his tip.

Sirius' hand held tighter to your hair, but he didn't move. He waited until you set the pace, and even then he barely moved. He wasn't always like this with you, so submissive, ready to please. But tonight he was acting different than other days, so you didn't question it.

Why hadn't you fallen for him? It was hard to tell, you tried at some point, but it was as if there was this empty space where your heart should be. Sirius' face had never brought any reaction on you. It was only with his dick in your mouth and his hands on your body that you felt butterflies in your stomach.

He pushed you away and with a soft pop, his dick left your lips and Sirius pushed you to lay down. He kneeled before you, eyes clouded with need and hunger.

"I'll make you love me," He groaned, a second later his face disappeared between your thighs.

"Yes," You whispered. "Yes, Sirius..."

His hands squeezed your thighs almost painfully, and your moans increased without you being able to control them. His tongue felt warm against you, it moved at just the right speed. He sighed and growled at the contact and you held onto his hair for dear life.

You didn't know if he'd meant what he said, about wanting you to love him. You didn't care, really. You couldn't. Not because you didn't feel it, but it would only result in tragedy. Your forearm seemed to burn, a reminder of the promise you made to a cause that welcomed you with no judgements.

Would Sirius promise you the same? You didn't think so, he never tried to see you more than just a fucktoy, so that night, you felt like hearing him beg.

"Do you like this, Sirius?" You spoke quietly. "You like eating me out? D'you feel how wet you make me?"

Sirius only moaned as a response, his mouth was moving relentlessly and his hips had started to grind against the air, you grinned at the sight.

"Such a cute pup," You pouted. "You want me to love you so bad, don't yo—?" Your comment gets interrupted by a moan, Sirius bit lightly on your clit, dragging his teeth against the skin gently to make you shiver. "Fuck, just like that baby..."

He was tipsy and desperate, usually he's not the type to obey quietly and waddle his tail at praising, even though he feeds on it. However, that night he needed it. He needed to believe that someone felt for him.

His lips started to move up, they kissed your ribs, and the side of your tit— he bit down on your collarbone while his hands moved on their own to massage your breasts. Sirius kicked off his shoes and pushed you up on the bed, you couldn't stop grinning at mockingly. He was giving you all the power for the first time since you'd started, and you were drunk on it.

"You're beautiful—"

"Just fuck me already, Black."

The way you snapped at him stirred him on, it frustrated him to see he was the only one showing emotion. Why weren't you squirming under him like always? Why weren't your eyes shiny and teary like all those nights before?

"Feeling brave, are you doll?" He raised a brow. "We'll see if it lasts."

Sirius turned you around, lifting your ass up against him. He expertly guided his cock into you, starting a punishing pace that was meant to hurt and leave you breathless.

"Shit— Right there, Sirius..."

"Yeah?" Sirius grunts, his hand went down to your neck and kept you against the mattress. "Look at you, taking my cock so well— it was made for you, darling, one touch and you're soaking..."

He moved in just the right way to hit your g-spot making you gasp. Your hands grabbed onto the sheets and you were trying to be as quiet as possible, but you could feel him everywhere: hands, thighs and dick buried to the hilt in you. For a second you believe his words, his body was made to please you, yet it doesn't mean it's meant to last.

His free hand pulled your lower half closer, you squirmed around him, and you knew he wasn't touching you in more ways because of the way you'd behaved. He was punishing you.

"Sirius," You breathed. "Touch me."

"What was that?" He tilted his head. "Nice girls plead, doll."

"Being mean to me won't make me love you," You grunted.

"You love me," He stated, his hips slowing their movements. "You love me so much that if I ask you to beg, what do you say, love?"

You pursed your lips together, Sirius stopped moving completely and you felt his front leaning over you, he whispered next to your ear:

"If I tell you to beg," He growled, slowly dragging his cock out of you as a warning. "What d'you say, puppy?"

You remained quiet, Sirius slipped out of you almost completely and you finally gave in frustration.

"Please! Please, Sirius— please fuck me..." You cried out. "I love you."

"That's it, baby," He sighed.

Without warning, he slammed back into you, this time his rhythm remained fast and hard, he kept you trapped between him and the bed. One arm wrapped around your waist and his fingers found your clit in an instant.

"Such a loving girl," He mocked. "See? You're not a brat, you just needed me to fuck the tantrum out of you... should I let you finish, then?"

"Yes!"

"You think you deserve it?"

"Please, Sirius..." You whimpered. "I'm your good girl..."

"Dam right you are," The man growled.

He changed the angle slightly and pounded right against the perfect spot. He had you trembling and moaning. You felt weak, it didn't matter what you did, he would always find a way to have you at his mercy.

"Come for me, darling," He panted, and it wasn't your mind who obeyed but your body, because it was made for him only.

Your words had no meaning as they spilt out of your mouth, your brain was fuzzy and you were only half-conscious of the way Sirius pulled out of you and painted your back with his cum. Once he was done, he brushed the hair out of your face and kissed your temple.

"Let's get you cleaned, Y/N," He said lowly.

You heard him getting dress and then felt him move you, he pulled you up to take off your blouse, when you snapped out of your daydream, it was too late.

"Shit–!"

You grabbed your blouse and put it on again as quick as you could, but Sirius was already stepping away, eyes fixed on the place where the dark mark was inked into your skin.

"No..." He muttered. "You didn't— Y/N, tell me you didn't."

"Get out of my house, Sirius," You answered, avoiding his eyes at all cost.

"How could you..." Anger increased in his voice. "Y/N, how could you? Our friends—!"

"I never had any friends!" You snapped. "I had you, and even then it was only a game. It still is. Don't even try to convince me about your change of heart— You don't love me, you're just lonesome. Leave."

"Y/N—"

"I said leave!"

You seized your wand from the nightstand and Sirius rushed out of the room, slamming the door close behind him. You stood and opened the door, but Sirius was ready. He threw a hex at you that you easily deflected, and responded to his attack with a curse.

"Get out!" It almost hurt to see the way he looked at you them. It wasn't pitying, just pure and honest shock, it made you sick.

He didn't try to speak to you, he fought back but you knew he wasn't trying that hard, he was letting you have an advantage and it upsets you further. You don't want his favour, you don't need it.

"He'll get you killed," He said, his gaze hardened. "You're an idiot. He'll get you killed and he won't even know whose body he's stepping on."

"I don't care, any death's better than a life with you," You replied.

Sirius' face lost all colour then, with a harsh flick of his wand the bookshelf next to you exploded and it pushed you backwards, then you heard the front door open and close.

You stood up, exhausted and pissed, wanting to punish yourself for letting Sirius discover your secret. It doesn't matter, though. He won't come back. He won't come to demand anything from you, and the best part is that he won't ever hear you beg for him again.

Forever Taglist.

@i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual​ @greengarsstuff​

HP Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107​ @aleksosoto​ @talksoprettyjjx​ @inkandpen22​ @theeicedamericano​ @hamiltonwc​ @thelastpyle​ @emilyyyvalenzuelaaa @azura-mist​ @tomshollandz​ @cedricisnotdead​ @letsfly-andbe-free​

[ayamari-no-goshi]

To Join the Whispers (3)

AO3 (is currently puzzled at the popularity of this fic)

Fandoms: Danny Phantom (DP) / DC universe

Summary:  THIS IS A CROSSOVER A contact for the Batfamily passed along a rumor that the League of Assassins were investigating a small city called Amity Park. The old man and Tim managed to find evidence of unusual paranormal activity in the town. While they weren’t entirely certain it wasn’t just infested with metas, the locals believed the entities that haunted, for lack of a better word, the town were actual ghosts. If there was one thing Ra’s al Ghul didn’t need to get his grubby hands on, it was ghosts.That’s probably why Jason was doing this. He had the unfortunate luck to experience both death and resurrection in a way he’d never recommend to anyone else.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, and questionable mental health

Parings: none

Notes: originally uploaded to AO3. Cross-posted to tumblr. Jason Todd-centric

Chapter 3

With Duke present, they were able to easily track the person from a distance. It made their task easier as they could follow from a greater distance and limit the risk of being caught. Next time he had a chance, he was going to upgrade the scanner system in his helmets. His was good, but not as good as Duke’s abilities. He was going to have to fix that.

They were using what appeared to be an old industrial building. Of course. What was it about criminals and places like that? So unoriginal.

Bruce wanted to be the one to set up their listening devices, but that didn’t mean that Jason couldn’t put some sensors around the area to keep track of whomever came and went. Or, take a quick peak inside of it. Satisfied, he and Duke headed back to their temporary base, also known as the stupidly posh hotel Masters put them in.

….

Back at the room, Jason found that Tim working on the belts. Not wanting to be anywhere near that mess, he decided to go up to the roof to smoke. He had been slowly cutting back, but with everything that happened today, he could use a cigarette.

The door was supposed to be armed with an alarm, but that meant little to him. It only took a minute to disarm it. While it didn’t seem like any of his siblings were following him, he wouldn’t be surprised if Cass, Dick, or Damian happened to be nearby. If they were, they decided to respect his privacy, for once.

The Pit stirred again. For the love of all things holy and unholy, why wouldn’t it just stop today? He paused for a moment when he realized it was recognizing the presence of something else. Glancing around, he didn’t see anything, but with a town supposedly full of ghosts…

“Who’s there?”

“Sorry,” Phantom appeared near the roof’s edge. He nervously rubbed his neck.

“Are you tailing me? You’re doing a poor job of it, if you are.” Leaning against the wall of the staircase, he relaxed some. The ghost still didn’t seem to be hostile.

“I… I was curious, that’s all.”

“Oh? About what?”

Phantom shifted uncomfortably as he slowly floated forward. “It’s not very often a human seems to have been exposed to high levels of ectoplasm. I was trying to figure out if you were someone like me…”

Jason sighed before dropping his cigarette and stomping it out. “Your sister mentioned you had an accident in that portal.”

“Sister? I don’t have a…!!!” When Jason shot him an unimpressed glance, his shoulders slumped forward. “Damnit, Jazz,” he muttered before he pleaded, “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Saw how your parents reacted to you earlier. I can see why you aren’t keen on sharing.”

Phantom’s eyes widened briefly before he looked away. “You saw that… Yeah, my parents love the human me, but the ghost me, well… they want to dissect me.”

Jason ran a hand along part of his own dissection scars. It was an understandable fear. He’d been thankfully dead for it. Maybe that’s why it was the only one of his ‘injuries’ that didn’t heal in the Pit.

Phantom, on the other hand… Did Phantom count as being dead or alive? He hoped it wasn’t the former. There were way too many researchers out there who would gladly ignore ethics. He decided to push those thoughts away for now.

“So, it was the portal that caused this?” he asked as he gestured to Phantom’s glowing form.

He nodded as he gently touched down on the roof. Seeing him stand on something as opposed to float made him look more human. “Yeah, nothing like having something rip open a door to the afterlife where you’re standing.”

Jason winced at the confession. Yeah, that sounded even more painful than he originally imagined.

“How about you?”

“Hmm?”

Danny raised an eyebrow at him. “I saw how you reacted to the portal.”

“Had a feeling you were watching us. But unlike you, I was dead, as in dead dead, when I was thrown into something that looks similar. It was a rather rude awakening.” That was putting it lightly.

Danny seemed to realize he was staring at him and glanced away. “No wonder you said you preferred being called a zombie. I guess that wouldn’t make you a Halfa.”

“Halfa?”

“Oh, half ghost. It’s what the other ghosts call us... er, me.”

The kid said ‘us’ before correcting himself. How many other halfs were there? Constantine indirectly mentioned them but didn’t provide anything to hint at a number. If he had to guess, Masters would probably be one. He felt similar enough to Danny. Now the question was to bring it to Bruce’s attention or let it sit. He’d make that decision later.

“Sorry to burst your bubble,” he replied bringing himself back to the conversation, “but best I can tell, I’m entirely human. There were some side effects though.”

“That’s… that’s why you kill people?”

He guessed this was Danny’s way of confirming his suspicion of his alter ego and checking how the Pit affected him without directly asking. “No, but it makes it easier. I’ve seen a lot of terrible things, kid. Sometimes it’s the only way to stop someone. Batman would disagree with me.”

Danny nodded and surprised him by walking closer. “You aren’t going to kill anyone here?”

“I’m not planning on it. Part of the agreement to have me come deals with using rubber rounds, but I can’t guarantee anything. Death can still happen with those too.” He pulled out another cigarette. “If it makes you feel better, the people we’re looking for aren’t locals.”

“I wouldn’t, if I were you. It’s really easy for people to come back and haunt you in this town,” the ghost boy, the Halfa, warned before floating up to the roof of the stairwell and sitting on it.

For some reason, his presence didn’t bother him, probably because their shared understanding of life and death. A comfortable silence fell between them as he lit his cigarette.

That silence was broken when Tim burst through the door to the stairs, grinning like a mad man. Someone gave him expresso, joy.

“I think I fixed it.” He held out the Spector Deflector which appeared to have been activated.

Jason rolled his eyes. “Let me guess, you want me to test it. And if it doesn’t work?”

“Back to the drawing board, I guess. Come on, Jay. You know I can’t tell unless you try it.” Stupid idiot tried to look innocent.

And he was just as much of an idiot for moving forward to touch the thing. As expected, it zapped him and he let out a string of curses as Tim backed away. Good, the replacement learned his lesson the first time.

“Wait, the Spector Deflector zaps you too?” Phantom peered over the side at them before looking over at Tim. “Is that why you’re tinkering with it?”

“Woah, Phantom?” Tim sent him a questioning look.

“We were bonding, or something liking that. He recognized me.”

His brother nodded once before looking up at Danny. “Did you know this would happen?” He gestured with the belt.

“I… uh…”

“It’s fine. Timber knows.” The teen’s eyes widened, possibly in understanding, making Jason smirk. He jerked his thumb towards him. “Glowstick here thought I might be a ghost or something like one.”

“HEY!”

His brother gave a good-natured laugh. “Don’t worry about him, Phantom. It’s his way of showing affection. While you’re here, do you have any suggestions on how to make this more selective?”

Danny slipped off the roof and floated near Jason. Odd. He figured he’d be more willing to get closer to Tim since he wasn’t exposed to Pit water… ectoplasm… whatever the hell it was. Oh, but didn’t Jazz mention the device zaps him too?

“If you could get it to tell the difference between different ectosignatures, then it’d work.” Danny glanced between the two of them for a moment. “Err, ectosignatures are kind of like a fingerprint. While you’d sometimes find ghosts who have similar ones, there’s always something that makes them unique. Skunk-head here,” he gave a teasing grin, “probably has one if the Deflector affects him.”

“Hmm… Human vitals are all unique, so I guess it would make sense ghost would have unique ones too. I think there was a mention of ectosignatures in the Fenton’s published research… We’ll get this to work, Jay.”

“I’m not going to hold my breath. Anyways,” Jason turned his attention back to Danny, “what exactly did you do to that other ghost eariler?”

The teen furrowed his brows in confusion for a moment. “Oh, you mean Skulker? I trapped him in the Thermos.” He pointed to where the soup thermos looking device hung on his belt. “It’s a containment device. I’ll let him go in the Ghost Zone later.” He made a face. “Actually, I might wait until that fundraiser thing is finished. Don’t want to give Plasmius any advantages.”

Mentioning the fundraiser reinforced Jason’s suspicion about Masters. It was a little too coincidental.

However, Danny’s explanation brought up a different question for Jason. “No punishment?”

“Skulker didn’t… well… It’s complicated?” He tapped the thermos. “Ghosts that we see in this realm are usually obsession driven. Skulker thinks of himself as the ‘Ghost Zone’s Greatest Hunter,’ so he likes to hunt the rare and unusual. When he escapes to this realm, his main focus is catching me… unless he’s getting intel for Plasmius.”

“And what happens when someone gets hurt or killed because of that?”

“I can’t destroy another ghost, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Danny sounded almost insulted as his eyes narrowed.

Jason sighed as he moved towards the door to the stairwell. Tim gave him space. “I’m not suggesting anything of the sort. You’re a good kid, Phantom. Better than I am. But if you keep letting your enemies off easy, it’s going to bite you in the ass when they eventually go after someone else to harm you.”

“You sound like you’re talking from experience.”

He glanced back at the teen. “It’s how I got murdered. Anyways, I’ve got shit to do. See ya later.”

As blunt as he was, he hoped Danny would seriously consider what he could do to help prevent his loved ones from being used as pawns. Jason’s own mother had been used in that way, and he’d fallen for it without question.

Speaking of parents, Jason did have questions about Danny’s. If they found out what their son was, would they harm him? They certain seemed to hate his ghostly persona, and Danny did verify they wanted to do him harm.

He probably shouldn’t bring that up to Bruce. The man didn’t need to consider adopting another one.

Shit. Duke probably brought it up to Bruce.

…

“You and Phantom seem to be getting along.”

Jason glared at Dick and his stupid smile as they started their infiltration of the temporary, and still unoriginal, headquarters of the League. It didn’t matter if the helmet was in the way or not; Dick could tell.

Banter had become a habit between them over the years. Sure, they could be quiet when needed, but it annoyed Bruce. And if you asked Jason, that was reason enough to do it.

“What? I can’t make friends?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Nightwing. Red Hood. Do you have eyes on them?” Bruce’s voice came over the intercom. His slightly more gravely tone gave away his annoyance with them.

“Yeah, B,” Nightwing replied as he took another look through his scope. “We can see five of them on our end. But is it just me, or haven’t any of them moved?”

“Also five on our angle. No movement either,” Tim reported. He and the demon spawn were paired together.

“Same,” Duke added. In his pause, they could almost sense Cass nod beside him. “I’m not detecting any hint of past or future movement either.”

“Hood, do you sense anything?”

Bruce’s question surprised him. “You’re actually asking me? What happened to the Fenton’s devices? Though you swiped one.” Technically, the old man bought it, but knowing him, it was going to end up being incorporated into Bat-tech sometime down the line.

“You were on the roof when B decided he wanted better proof it worked first,” Dick whispered.

“What was the point in grabbing it then?”

“To study the energy source,” Tim explained.

“Do you sense anything or not?” Ah, there it was, the tired father of six. Well, if you counted Stephanie and Babs, who both counted as a half, it came to seven

“No, not really.” Pit had been surprisingly quiet after the chat with Phantom, but it had momentarily whispered at him near the perimeter of their current location. It happened often enough outside of Amity for him not to bother so it didn’t warrant a mention.

“Move in.”

They all dropped down from their places in the rafters to the floor below. Bruce, Tim, and Damian specifically aimed for the assassins. Duke tackled another from the back. Dick pinned the remaining one against a piece of old equipment while holding his escrima sticks to his neck. With that handled, Jason and Cass checked the area for hidden reinforcements.

A sense of wrongness settled over Jason. There was no noise. No sounds of struggling.

Dick stepped away from the assassin he pinned, and the guy’s body just dropped to the floor. “He’s dead.” Surprise and confusion seeped into his tone.

“I… I think this one is too!” Duke stumbled away from his target. Tim, Damian, and Bruce all confirmed the assassins they targeted were also deceased.

No signs of injuries were evident on the bodies, but each one had an expression which suggested extreme pain prior to death. However, there were a few scuff marks on the ground that suggested a struggle. Duke’s abilities confirmed they’d been taken by surprise. All of them were attacked at the same time, but he couldn’t see who or what caused it. He also mentioned that each of them seemed to have odd marks around their hearts when he turned his attention towards the bodies themselves. Bruce’s scanner confirmed the strange markings which were then shared with the group.

“Grandfather’s men should be trained to handle anything.” Damian voice contained an unusual hint of puzzlement.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say it looks like someone grabbed it,” Dick murmured.

“Maybe someone did.” Tim glanced around either in hopes of another clue or a glimpse at the attacker. “We’re in a town where ghosts are reportedly commonplace. If these ones have abilities anything like a Martian…”

“Then it’s possible that’s what happened.” If Jason didn’t know better, he’d swear Bruce seemed unsettled by it.

“But why would a ghost do something like this?” Tim continued. “From what we can tell from the reports Oracle gathered, ghost-related deaths are rare. The only reported ones were associated with the town being supposedly pulled into a different dimension, and Phantom mentioned the ghosts we’ll find in the different reports and news stories are obsession driven.”

The Pit whispered what almost felt like a greeting. Glancing up, Jason’s own scanners registered a cold spot similar to the previous night. “Instead of speculating, we could just ask a ghost what he thinks. Isn’t that right, Phantom?”

The cold spot moved until it settled to his right. Phantom became visible a second later. “I thought you weren’t going to kill anyone.” He wasn’t accusatory. And even though his voice seemed to be naturally distorted in his ghost persona… or was it a form, anyways, it still held a somber tone.

“They were posed,” Cass stated as moved closer to Danny to silently study him. “We found.” He flinched away from her before asking for more details.

Danny frowned at the information and outright grimaced when Bruce showed him a still image from the scanner. “I hate to say it,” he eventually admitted. “A ghost could do something like that, but…”

“But?” Bruce prompted.

“But ghosts who target humans usually leave them alive. Emotions can be used as an energy source so….” He rubbed his neck while making a ‘you get the picture’ motion with the other hand.

Tim began tapping on his wrist computer as he spoke. “It wouldn’t make sense to kill if you can continue using a person as a battery, but I take it that it does happen.”

Danny nodded. “There are only two I know that would… but…” His breath misted before he had a chance to continue.

The Pit seemed to snarl at something. Not sure what to make at that unusual response, he drew one of his guns and fingered the taser hidden in his jacket. “Something’s here.”

“Multiple somethings,” Phantom agreed as the faces of snarling animals started to slide through the walls. Well, they were green, glowing, and obviously mutated. “Ah, crud.”

“Phantom, explain,” Bruce ordered.

Danny jumped. Wide eyes showed just how unsettled he was by getting orders from the Batman. He was still a teen after all. “Uh, they’re Plasmius’ creations. Animal ghosts mostly run on instinct, but they have some intelligence. I’ll be able to trap them in the thermos, but they usually need weakened first.”

“Great.” Dick’s escrima sticks sparked with electricity. “So, any advice on how to fight them?”

“Don’t get bitten.” The kid was just as good at providing details in a fight as Bruce. Lovely.

The ghost animals moved as soon as Danny lunged forward. He flew so smoothly as he dodged and turned that if he didn’t have a mutant ghost bear trying to bite his throat, Jason would have enjoyed watching the teen in his natural element. There was no shame in admiring the fighting style of someone else.

If you would have asked him what the ghost of an animal smelled like a week ago, Jason would have said nothing. He now knew better. It stunk like rotten meat and musk combined with the indescribable and repulsive smell of its saliva. As disgusting as it smelled, for a moment, part of his mind wondered if the smell of death accompanied him too. No matter what, a shower was absolutely necessary.

Annoyed at the bear deciding it wouldn’t take a hint, he decided to taze the damn thing. It howled in pain and swung widely as stumbled away in pain. And it managed to knick the taser. Well, when he had no other immediate option as the taser built into his vest worked best if the enemy was touching it, best fallback was to punch it.

Even though he’d briefly caught sight of any non-electrically charged attack pass through the ghost animals, his punch connected. Maybe his dip in the Lazarus Pit would benefit him for once. When he attempted it again and got the same result, he smiled. It’d been a while since he had a good brawl, and he was going to enjoy it.

Something about the fight gave him a bit of nostalgia. Perhaps it was fighting along side Bruce and the others. Or maybe it was fighting a battle without the use of his guns. But for a moment, he almost felt as if he was back in the Robin mantle and kicking the shit out of some random henchmen. But those years were long gone.

The fighting stopped as Danny trapped the last of the ghosts in his thermos. Dusting himself off, Jason glanced around at the others. Most of them had wear and tear on their costumes, but there didn’t seem to be any serious injuries with one exception.

Danny appeared to be nursing a bite mark on his arm. Instead of blood, a green ooze dripped from his arm. Did his body naturally produce that stuff instead of blood?

“I’ll patch that up,” Tim offered as he carefully approached Danny.

The ghost boy shook his head and floated backwards. “I appreciate the offer, really, but I can’t stay here long. The Guys in White will be here shortly. They always come after a fight like this.”

“We can protect you,” Bruce offered.

“You won’t be able to.” Danny glanced at Jason again. “They might target you too, if they find out about you.”

He snorted. “Wouldn’t be the first time I had authorities after me.”

Bruce chose to ignore him. “Fine. Do you have a place we can reconverge in an hour?”

“There’s a clocktower in the middle of town. I’ll meet you there if I can.” Danny vanished from sight. Jason’s scanners briefly caught sight of a cold signature dip into the ground and disappear.

“Phantom’s not lying. I’m getting flashes of people rushing the building,” Duke warned. After a quick nod from Bruce, all of the scattered.

For a few moments, Jason really did want to stay and see if these so-called government agents would decide to go after him. Dick and Bruce quickly put a stop to that. Maybe he could sabotage one of their vehicles with a bomb. If Tim or Babs could get him the schematics, that could be a little project while he was still in Amity. But he’d have to ask when Bruce wasn’t around. Even if the explosion occurred when no one would be in the vehicle, Bruce would still lecture him. And if there was one thing Jason didn’t need, it was another one of Bruce’s lectures.

….

“Todd, how did you fight those ghost animals?”

Although the Demon Brat couldn’t see it, Jason raised an eyebrow at him as they continued to wait for Phantom to show. It wasn’t often the kid asked him anything. “And here I thought you were good at paying attention to your surroundings. I punched them.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Dunno what to tell you. Wasn’t expecting my fist to work either.”

“You’re lucky,” Duke complained as he took a seat on the bell tower’s ledge. “Even with my sight, I could barely dodge them let alone hit one.”

“Keep this up and you’ll end up working alongside Constantine,” Tim teased.

“Do you really think I’d be able to put up with that Brit for more than a couple hours?”

“I don’t know.” Dick gave a playful grin. “I think the two of you could get along well enough for one mission. I think he’d be surprised to see the walking dead be able to sucker punch a ghost.”

Jason had just enough of a warning from the Pit to glance behind him as Phantom manifested. The teen had a hastily applied dressing on his arm. His hunched shoulders and dimly glowing eyes suggested exhaustion.

He gave them a short wave and a tired grin before floating far enough forward to sit on the ledge of the clocktower. “Sorry I’m not floating. Fights like that take a lot of energy out of me. Oh, if you see a flash of light that means I probably passed out. I’d appreciate if someone would catch me so I wouldn’t fall off the roof.”

“Are you going to let me properly bandage that now?”

Danny glanced at his arm. “This? It’s fine.” When Tim just stared at Danny, he just held out his arm and glanced away. Of course Tim darkly muttered something as he went to work.

“Phantom, back to our discussion.” Bruce stepped forward. “You mentioned a ghost could kill. You also said Plasmius made those creatures.”

“Can I ask who those people were first?”

“Assassins. Now, explain.”

“Assassin? Why the heck would assassins be in Amity Park?” At Bruce’s glare, he gulped and explained, “Most ghosts won’t kill. A lot of them… us… can get energy by tapping into human emotions. It doesn’t really make sense to… well, you know.”

“So, we’re kind of like batteries to ghosts?” Duke frown at the idea. “I guess it wouldn’t make sense for them to kill anyone.”

“Er, yes? Especially to some like Ember and Spectra. My friends think I might have accidentally tapped into theirs at times when I’ve running on fumes.”

“But it does happen.” Danny winced at Bruce’s tone.

“Yeah, but I only know of two who would do that, Pariah Dark and the Fright Knight.” He rubbed his shoulder with his free hand. The momentary far away look in his eyes suggested he had an unpleasant history with at least one of them. “Pariah Dark would be more likely to crush a person than to do whatever happened there. Besides, he’s currently locked away.”

“Tt. And why would we believe that?” The demon spawn did have a point.

“There’d be a mass exit of the ghosts of the Ghost Zone if he got free again. It happened before.”

“And the other?”

“The Fright Knight is often said to be the spirit of Halloween. I know it’s corny, but that’s the way it is,” Danny explained when Bruce raised an eyebrow at him. “But, Fright is more likely to trap someone in a nightmare using his sword than to kill, but he will if necessary. He’s currently working with Plasmius, but I haven’t seen him since Pariah was locked away.”

“But what about Plasmius? Or should I say Masters?” Jason crossed his arms as he shifted. Danny mentioned the man in passing a few times already but never elaborated.

Phantom’s eyes grew comically wide before he put a finger over his mouth. “Shush! Vlad has eyes everywhere.”

“Hold still!” Tim warned. “I haven’t finished yet. Besides, we already checked the area for bugs.”

“So it’s true.” Batman took a step forward. “He’s like you then.”

“What part of ‘shush’ don’t you understand? If… if he thinks I told you…”

“Then what? What’s he got on you?” Jason asked as he shifted. Something about this kid really brought out his protective streak. “We can help.”

Danny wouldn’t look at them. “He’ll expose me… Ghosts and other ectoentities aren’t exactly protected by law.”

Quick glances circled around the group. Metas were protected by law. Surely Danny knew that, but he seemed convinced he’d be hunted. Was it the parents? No… well, probably not the main issue. Didn’t his friend mention something about a government organization?

“Under the Federal Anti-Ecto Control Acts, I don’t even count as sentient. That law allows the Guys in White to take unnecessary and lethal force… They’ll attack normal people too,” Danny explained.

Was that so? The Pit stirred at his anger, and for once, it didn’t seem to muddle his thoughts. He did want to explode one of their vehicles, but that was a bit too tame. Destroying one of their bases would do nicely. He should get Roy to come help.

“We will be able to provide you with asylum, if anything should happen.” Great. Bruce was considering adopting him. He could have sworn he heard Dick and Tim groan when they realized it.

Danny gave a humorless laugh. “Harboring someone like me is enough to get you jail time. Thanks though.”

“Do you really think that would stop him? Or any of us?” Jason wasn’t going to let Danny think he didn’t have support. It wasn’t an adult yet, and it wasn’t right for him to feel alone.

“We can discuss this at a different time.” Bruce shifted back to bat-business mode. “Would Plasmius do something like that? And what about the animals?”

“Plasmius sometimes… experiments. I think he was trying to figure out how to artificially stabilize ectoplasm.”

“Why?”

Danny took his arm back from Tim. His gaze seemed distant. “Doesn’t matter now. I destroyed that lab, and he hasn’t tried doing that again. But you asked about killing. It’s not really his style, but he might. He can make duplicates of himself, and a lot of them.”

“Duplicates?”

“Copies. Doubles. Some ghosts can split their forms. I’ve tried, but I’m not exactly great at it.” He wrinkled his nose. “You don’t want to see what happens when you mess that up. I don’t know how my friends don’t have nightmares about it.”

“When you said a lot,” Dick spoke up, “exactly how many did you mean?”

“I don’t know. He was able to control most of the town during the last election.”

“That is a lot.”

Danny yawned, and just for a moment, a ring of light appeared around his waist before fizzling out. “I guess it’s time for me to get to bed. Since I take it that you know who I am, you can easily find me.” He floated into the air and wobbled a moment.

“Do you really think you’re going to go home like that? You look like a breeze would knock you over.” Jason stared at the kid. Yeah, he was going to take him to his home. No way he was going to let a kid who looked dead on his feet attempt to go on his own.

==================================

Notes: Jason does not canonically have an autopsy scar as the Pit was supposed to heal any scar he had. I don't care. This is a popular head cannon that I'm all for.

Nightwing’s staff-like weapons are called escrima sticks.

I actually started reading Red Hood comics with the 2016 run of Red Hood and the Outlaws where Jason is teamed up with Artemis and Bizarro. Their dynamic great, but they’re not exactly the best at covert. Roy is the better option in this instance. 😊

[datawyrms]

Happy DannyMay everyone! i say while dropping this. For day one, Memories. sorta kinda sequel to this Half a Decade Late

He said he’d never hate them. Back when he thought it would only be a matter of time until he found a weakness, a flaw and squirmed free. He always had before. He didn’t like being captured, and he certainly didn’t like getting shoved into cages, but it was always temporary. A terrifying inconvenience. Something he’d shrug off eventually and forget. Lately he was starting to realize he’d forget that he ever considered thinking charitably. Just like all the other things he couldn’t quite remember.

They took everything. His freedom, his limbs, his skin, his voice. So many things he had the misfortune of learning he could recover from with enough time. Really broke the idea that anything about you was special. Did it matter that they ripped him open when the green slime he was made of would eventually cover the hole without even a sign of the pain it caused him? He just stopped caring. Ghosts didn’t feel pain. Maybe if he believed that enough, he wouldn’t need to feel it. Hurt was just a matter of perspective.

He was changing, apparently. The spectral copies of his human organs they stole over and over again stopped being perfect copies. Sloppy. Apparently his body was forgetting what the real ones were like. He didn’t remember the last time he’d been human anyway. That was fine. It was the only real way he could bother them now, being ‘less useful’. Obviously he didn’t need them that badly. He envied some of his fellow prisoners. They were just green inside. Nothing the vultures wanted, nothing for them to mutter and prod at while he struggled uselessly.

He didn’t really know why he still bothered to do that. It never worked. Some impulse. Just better than keeping still. He never really was a human, was he? Humans didn’t treat other humans like this. So he wasn’t one. So why did he ever think he was?

Tie was weird. Maybe having a soul made you act all funny. He’d been tempted to change her name, to no-mask or just face, but the words didn’t feel right, sort of caught on his tongue. Even when he didn’t have one sometimes! Tie just slid off easily. Like he’d said it a lot, or something like it.

So the newbie remained Tie. And Tie was weird. A good kind of weird? She didn’t just tell him to shut up, anyway. Most of them were boring like that. Though not getting shocked into unconsciousness did make the days tend to drag a bit more. She did make his head hurt sometimes, with all the weird reactions Tie made. It always passed though.

He kept playing with the lights up there so they would flicker and crackle, just to check if it was a Tie day. Sure, that got a good amount of shocks when it wasn’t Tie, but they were always grumpy after he’d lost a limb or two. It was almost amusing again. That was the word. Maybe?

“You don’t remember Amity at all?”

Frustration and anger that was directed at him, but also not. Tie was super strange like that. “Why would I?” His response just made her eyes narrow more, but she didn’t do anything to take it out on him. It was hilarious. 

“That’s where you’re from.”

“News to me.” Might be a lie, might not. Gun grunts said lots of weird stuff. He shifted position, watching her while upside down didn’t make it easier to tell if humans were lying or not, but did make her scowling funnier. “That’s where you’re from then? Or that other name you keep using.”

“You can’t actually be him. Fuck.” She was rubbing at her forehead, looking away at nothing. “You remember ghost hunters but not Amity Park?”

“Hey! Names are hard, Tie. Isn’t like you know the name of every town you’ve ever been in.”

“No, but I remember the one I lived in most of my life!”

“Good for you! I’d clap but I’m kinda under armed for the task.” Under armed. He snickered as she only rolled her eyes at his joke, but it only made him think of another one. “Isn’t like a ghost lives anywhere.”

“You’re in here for hell knows how long and you can’t get better jokes?!”

Tie’s irritation just made it funnier. “These are gold! Way better than the stuff you guys laugh at.”

“Like what?”

“Oh you know.” The humour of the moment passed as he got back up, wondering if he should give the old ice trick another go. The noises were fun. “Like how the ghost won’t eat, but ghosts don’t breathe either. So the ghost can’t do much to stop ya.” As if Tie didn’t know. She still made the weird pinched expressions though. Why bother? It didn’t really matter if she actually had a soul still. Those ones just quit and then there’d be a new newbie. “Lots of you think that’s reaaaaal funny.” He stuck out his tongue, gagging. “Gross gun grunts.”

“That’s not funny either.”

“Try breaking your funny bone a few times. That’ll fix it. Or was that computers?” He frowned, rubbing his fingers against his chin. Computers. What was it about computers again? Re-re-something? Like with bones when you...did something…

“Phantom!”

That jerked him out of his considerations. “Still not him!” Now that he checked, Tie looked like she’d been trying to get his attention for awhile again. That, or she’d figured out how to teleport closer to his cage. Both were very possible. Probably. 

“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you.”

“You were talking?”

“For someone who says he isn’t Phantom, it sure gets your attention fast.”

He shrugged. What did Tie expect? So what if he noticed it? It didn’t mean anything to him, personally. It was like comp-whatevers. “You could say the coats were coming and I’d do the same thing.”

“Doubt it. You remember Jack and Maddie maybe?” Tie hesitated, as if saying something to him actually mattered. “Your parents?”

“I’m a ghost. And possibly a starfish. Since I do the whole regenerating thing.” He’s pretty sure it’s starfish that do that. “I don’t think they’re big on families.” He thought that was pretty amusing, having like. Little voiceless things that cling to rocks as parents. Actually had a bit in common if you thought of his cage as a rock? Tie didn’t agree, based on how he was biting at her lip and clenching her fists. Still no shooting. Still super weird.

“Be a mercy killing at this point…” Tie wasn’t actually speaking to him, but it was interesting. Killing what? One of the other ghosts maybe. “Sam, Tucker? Any of them ring a bell?”

He certainly didn’t have a bell in here. “Sam...and Tucker are names?” He guessed, shuddering a little. Weird names. Made the gooey mess of ectoplasm he was made of wriggle when he said it. Like when he was struggling to digest something, uncomfortable and heavy and just making him want to move when he couldn’t. Though he could this time. Zipping up to the top of his cage helped shake the feeling off, at least. He wasn’t saying those again, no thank you. “You have weird tricks, Tie”

“They’re just names. I didn’t do anything to make you fly up there. I half thought you couldn’t do that anymore.”

Tie did have a bit of a point. When was the last time he’d flown up here? “Think I forgot I could?” He didn’t really move much in general. Not like he had anywhere to go, his cage didn’t really change.

She just looked tired. “This isn’t fixable.”

He wasn’t really paying attention, poking at the edges of his cage with his feet was pretty entertaining. It tingled a bit when he got pushed back, but flipping over in the air was easy. Why didn’t he float more? “Gun grunts don’t fix things, so Idonno why you care.”

Tie wasn’t paying much attention to him either, muttering to herself. “Manson would kill me for doing it. No way she’d believe you’re like this. Let alone the Fentons...”

Well, that was boring. He busied himself with counting how many seconds it took for the shock to stop coursing through him when he touched the walls. Though it was a bit tricky to keep track between tries.

“Skulker? Ember? You at least remember the ghosts, don’t you?”

“Are you just making names up now Tie?” They just sounded silly. The thought of someone named ‘Skulker’...who was also very tiny. Now that’d be funny. Kinda liked that idea actually.

“Probably don’t even remember the guy who put a million on your head…”

“A million whats? Questions? That’s more a you thing, Tie.”

“No, Vlad. The mayor?”

“The what?” Things weren’t funny anymore. He wasn’t cool and passive. That word, there’d been others but he didn’t even care what they’d been. The V had been enough to set his core to a furious pulsating heat of fury. His ice claws clung to the wall even as the buzzing in his skull grew stronger as the field tried to shove him back. “WHERE” He snared, not caring how his throat burned from the partial wail trying to scrabble out of his throat. Tie didn’t matter, nothing mattered and he actually missed his arm since not having it made it harder to keep his grip and snarl at the one backing away from his prison. “WHERE IS HE?” Oh he’d order anyone, and they’d listen or he’d shred them as soon as he got through- but his claws were cracking- green and red staining and corrupting the fine edge he’d honed so often. Why did he care? He didn’t know, didn’t want to know, he just had to act and now, just in case. The chance might slip away and he wouldn’t, they’d pay they’d pay, they’d PAY.

“Danny! Stop hurting yourself, he’s not here!” Tie was blathering, but at least backed away when he shrieked at her. Stupid Tie. Didn’t know anything. “Hell. You don’t even know why you’re mad, do you.”

He kept slamming the ice back in place, even as his arm weakened and started oozing. He didn’t need his legs, he didn’t need arms, he didn’t need anything. Just OUT. NOW. He snarled and snapped at the metal that grabbed his back and slammed him hard to the ground of his cage. It ignored him and the awful warmth that had consumed everything. He never won against it but now he had to keep trying because-because the anger? Because of something. The metal easily ignored the green surging pulses of electricity, just kept pressing down on him until he wasn’t solid enough to struggle, not strong enough to scream at it. The awful stabbing feeling in his core wanted him to act, but he couldn’t even defiantly flick his tail as he grew colder and slipped out of consciousness.

Everything hurt and it wasn’t even Friday. At least. He didn’t think it was? He’d have to ask Tie about it...if Tie showed up again. Something about her gave him a stab of unease. Might have something to do with all the green stains in here. Didn’t remember getting shot though. Strange. Must have done something. Maybe. Didn’t really matter.

[slashedthroughtheheart]

Patched up with the doc

'For a request, would it be okay if I asked for Herman taking care of a reader who got injured outside of a trial? I do kind of want it to be an angsty moment at first, but it just turns into fluff and comfort. I don't want smut or anything. Just Herman being a gentleman and showing the reader his affectionate, caring side. They both might not admit it at first, but they really like each other and always wanna be extremely close; Hugs and cuddles.'

This was the prompt, and here's what I went with! Enjoy a bit shorter of a fic featuring our good doctor, Herman Carter, taking care of a slightly belligerent reader!

It was just like any other day. You’d gone to the saloon in Glenvale with a few other survivors to just hang out. You couldn’t remember what you went out onto the upper deck wrapping around the saloon for, but you were cursing yourself for it now.

It was humiliating to be dangling with one leg partway through the broken floorboard. Whatever reason you had for coming out here was not worth it as you tried to pull yourself back up without further hurting yourself.

You weren’t having much luck, low curses leaving you as you prayed no one would come out to check on you. The last thing you needed was any of the other survivors, or entity forbid, any of the killers, to see you in such a pathetic position.

Being clumsy and mucking up a gen or two was bound to happen. Not making it to a pallet in time, no big deal. But something this pitiful was not something you wanted anyone to know about or see. You would never live it down.

You could picture the laughing stock you’d become if people caught wind that you literally fell through the floor and hurt yourself. You fell from greater heights during trials and had no problem rolling through it on the balls of your feet. Hell, there was that place in the Gideon meat plant that was way higher than the saloon and you’d never had trouble with that.

One last growl of frustration left you before a sharp intake of pain left you holding still after you definitely stabbed yourself on part of the broken board.

A barely audible whimper followed not soon after, the splintering wood jabbing at your torn skin. You could feel the blood dripping down your shin from where you had scraped yourself up, and from the fresh stabbing from trying to free yourself.

And just as you were going to try to move a different way, you heard the footsteps make creaks from somewhere behind you.

This was the worst case scenario, you could hear it was someone heavier than any of the survivors that had come with you. There’s no way Feng’s or Meg’s footsteps would be that loud.

Dread filled your heart as you whipped your head around, grimacing as your shift made the wood dig into you again.

And the eyes that landed on you lit up green when they saw the position you were in, awkwardly hunched onto the deck, obvious pain on your face and one leg dangling at just above the knee into the broken hole.

“Here, let me help you, my dear.”

Herman took purposeful steps towards you, intent on helping you free yourself and seeing to your wounds he caught the slightest glimpse of when you shifted in place.

“NO!”

He stopped, shocked at your sudden outburst.

You held an almost trembling hand up, as if that would keep him at bay. And it did, for a moment.

“I-I’m fine. I can do it myself. I don’t need any help, I’ll be fine.”

And as if the universe was amused in your suffering, when you tried to lift yourself once more from the jagged hole, a piece of wood lodged deeper into the beginning of your thigh, causing you to gasp out and almost choke on your pain.

“You don’t seem fine, y/n. Please let me at least assist you in getting out, I insist.” He’d moved forward a few steps, approaching slower, and eyeing the floorboards cautiously now.

You struggled again, throwing the same hand back up as you grit your teeth.

“I said no! I don’t want your help!” The tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes, stinging like you’d just cut up onions. Your nose burned as you held them in. The pain and humiliation leaving you a mortified and stubborn mess.

He hadn’t stopped in his approach, moving to the side and gently touching your arm with his hand, rubbing a small soothing circle on your shoulder.

“While any other time you saying no I would listen, I really must insist. You have injured yourself quite seriously, and are having a difficult time freeing yourself. I’ll get you up and out of that, and then we can head to Lérys and get you cleaned up. You’re sure to have splinters, and those are nearly impossible to remove on ones own, especially at the angle you’ve got them at.”

He sounded so matter-of-fact that you couldn’t even argue further, just holding in the tears and trying desperately not to sniffle and sound even more pitiful than you were sure you looked.

You tried to reason with yourself that at least it was Herman to find you and not someone like Danny or Frank. They would have probably laughed at you and gotten everyone else to come out and point and laugh with them.

You tried not to break down into tears of frustration as Herman moved around to your front, being careful of where he stepped and testing out the weight first before fully committing to the step.

He bent over, taking a moment to observer where the most damage was that he could see, the front of you leg just above the knee.

He simply hummed out in acknowledgment as he saw a rather large sliver of wood having made its home in your thigh, looking rather painful.

“Alright, I’m going to move you back just a bit and then lift you straight up. You might bump into the boards, but I’ll be able to get you up and standing just fine.” His hands moved to under your arms, taking care with his grip so as not to cause you any further discomfort.

At this point, you mutely accepted defeat, simply letting him take the lead as he adjusted you minutely before finally lifting you up, your leg not even brushing against the boards.

You felt even more miserable as you realized just how easily he’d gotten you out versus your own painful struggling that ended up with you hurting yourself more than doing any helping.

Once he had you out of the hole, you’d expected him to set you down on your own feet, but you were not expecting him to only rest you on them for a moment only to lean down to scoop you into his arms, injured leg on the outside.

At your bewildered look, he smiled gently. “Can’t have you walking with your leg like that, and Lérys is a bit of a walk.”

You wanted to protest, but at the same time you were getting your first good look at your leg, and maybe you really should just let him help you patch it up.

You weren’t even sure if Claudette could truly help fixing it up at this point.

So instead of fighting him on it, you nodded numbly, withdrawing into yourself so you wouldn’t give into the urge to start bawling like you’d been struggling with the whole time.

He went down the back steps, avoiding alerting any of the others to your condition, having noted that you were not in the mood to have anyone see you like this. You hadn’t even wanted him to help you, going so far as to try to pull yourself up and hurting yourself further.

No words passed between the two of you as he made his way towards Lérys, avoiding anyone else that you might have gone by with ease.

The relief you felt when he finally crossed the threshold into his realm was visible, pulling a very soft chuckle from him. It was nothing like his usual laughter. This laugh held a gentle mirth in it, a light but non-judgemental amusement.

“Rest assured, y/n. Your dignity is safe with me.” His thumb rubbed a small but soothing circle on the arm it was pressed against as he finally made his way into the building of the hospital, making a beeline for the closest room with the right equipment in it he’d need.

After carefully placing you on the hospital bed inside the room, he immediately went about gather the supplies he would need onto a rolling tray.

It did not take him much time at all to ready everything. There was a bottle of antiseptic, two pairs of tweezers, one big and one small, some gauze, a needle and some suture thread. It seemed you’d be getting stitches today.

At least these would be in a sterile environment with steady hands, unlike the ones you received during trials.

A meek “Thank you.” barely made it past your lips, your gaze staring at the gashes in your shin and the bit of wood protruding from your thigh.

Herman looked up from his readying of items, a soft smile gracing his features.

“It is not a problem, y/n. You were in distress, and I am more than happy to help.” He reached out, patting your uninjured leg for a moment before returning to the task at hand.

At his touch, you felt a warmth blossom in your chest, but you didn’t want to think about that right now. So you instead locked your gaze on your leg as he started meticulously cleaning your wounds and removing all the splinters you’d managed to get.

After the first touch sent near white hot pain through your body, you’d decided it was probably best not to watch so you laid yourself back, staring instead the ceiling as you balled your fists in an attempt to stay as still as possible.

Thankfully, the good doctor was precise in his movements and had you sufficiently patched up in seemingly no time at all. Considering the amount of damage, having to sit still for 20 minutes really hadn’t been that bad.

You let out a shaky breath in response to his question of how you were doing, still trying to hold your tears that had never left you in.

The weight of his palm against your upper arm startled you into opening your eyes and looking up at the now blue eyes of the doctor.

“It is okay, y/n. It’s understandable that this kind of injury is quite painful, especially considering the entity will likely not heal it until your next trial.” There was understanding in his face, a tenderness you’d never seen on him before.

It was foreign, but not unwelcome. You still felt plenty embarrassed by your situation, but the voice inside your head happily reminded you that it could have been worse.

Although, at the gentle press of his hand, the dam that had been holding back your emotions finally burst.

Hot tears trickled out the sides of your eyes to disappear into your hair behind your ears, the sensation feeling strange and only adding to your already frazzled nerves.

You sniffed once, twice, then let out a small but frustrated sounding whimper as your hands came up to rub almost viciously against your eyes.

Why of all times to loose your cool was it in front of a killer? Granted, he’d helped you and had never treated you poorly outside of trials, but this was beyond mortifying.

Your outburst didn’t phase him, knowing that the survivors already had a stressful enough existence with the trials and not having their own places unlike the killers. Living in a makeshift tent with just the campfire to keep the place lit up wasn’t easy for any of them.

He moved his hand to the top of your head, gently running his hand down it a few times, effectively petting your hair while he let you cry it out.

You instinctively turned into the touch, your body curling in on it’s side while you reached out blinding to grab the hem of his shirt while you tried your hardest to cry quietly.

Content with just letting you take your time, he continued the gentle petting of your hair, taking a small step closer so your arm wasn’t so outstretched.

A low hum left him, intent on soothing you in any way he could.

He’d been a bit off put by your almost venomous refusal of his help at first, but looking down at you as you slowly stopped crying, the hiccups starting and seeing you scrub your sleeve at your face to try and wipe away the tears there.

His other hand moved to stop you from rubbing your face anymore, offering you the pocket square he always had one him.

“No need to dirty your clothes when this is here. It is what it was meant for, after all.”

His encouraging smile was enough to have you taking it with no resistance.

And after you’d dried your face and blown your nose, he helped you sit up, hand lingering at your arms for a moment before he tilted his head.

“I know this is rather unorthodox, but would you like a hug? I believe it would benefit you, and to be completely honest, I wished to comfort you so this whole time.” His eyes were a gentle white now, as he waited patiently for your response.

A light blush took over your face, trying not to feel any smaller than you already felt.

Turning your face away before giving a small nod had him smiling at your own bashfulness.

And that’s how the first hug you’d received after coming to the entity’s realm happened. And there was many more to be had with the doctor, as you had been quick to find out.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad accepting help sometimes.

[piratewithvigor]

I Have To Bake A Cake?

A small fic based on the above gif and the following recipe.

Assorted delishiousness and panic below

Kane couldn’t deny he was a little nervous. His experience with food had been sorely limited in the past. Hell, he still sometimes found himself eating like there were rats lurking in the shadows to steal what was his. But this wasn’t a case like that.

This was a cake. As ordered by Vince himself. Or at least through a couple dozen people who couldn’t give him a lot more details than the fact that he was supposed to bake a cake for Monday.

Okay, a cake. How hard could it be?

According to the recipes he dug up, very hard.

He was starting to get overwhelmed just by looking over the plethora of options. Every flavour under the sun, and that was just the cake itself. When combined with frostings and fillings and decorations, there were probably more kinds of cake than he’d had tiny pointless arguments with Daniel.

And that didn’t even change the fact that he hadn’t been told what the cake was for. All these recipes online seemed to indicate specific cakes for specific occasions, but what about when he had no occasion? No hints of any kind? What then, Pinterest mommy bloggers??

Even when he did find a recipe that seemed like it would work, it wasn’t like he had the ingredients for it. He and Daniel had made compromises when they moved in together. Kane could eat all the meat he wanted so he could get enough protein in his diet without having to resort to powders that made him gag, but in exchange, he’d put up with Daniel’s vegan substitutes for pretty much anything else. No animal milk and no eggs.

Which seemed to be the two staples for pretty much every recipe.

He was half tempted to just give up, retire and run away to parts unknown to escape the hellish task when a recipe offered itself. A plain chocolate cake. Nothing fancy about it whatsoever. Except for the fact that it offered substitutions. No animal based ingredients of any kind. And even shit he had. If he wasn’t so loyal to Daniel, Kane felt like he could have kissed the mommy blogger in question.

With Kane’s penchant for burning things, he usually left the more delicate cooking to Daniel. Baking was especially out of his wheelhouse, but he wasn’t one to let down whoever needed this cake. Nor whoever was supposed to eat it. It would just take a little remembering where Daniel kept everything in the kitchen and a little learning on the fly. No problem at all.

Step one was to preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Kane liked this recipe already. The little extra heat in the kitchen set him at ease. It was like a nice hug.

The stand mixer, on the other hand, was like a chihuahua on cocaine. It was loud, it was fast, and it made every ingredient he added to the bowl explode in a tiny cloud. Explosions were for the ring; not for a tiny machine that Julia fucking Child could use.

3 cups flour? Poof. 3 cups sugar? Poof. 1 ½ cups cocoa powder? 1 ½ teaspoons of baking powder and salt? 1 tablespoon baking soda? Poof, poof and a relatively underwhelming lesser poof (he later read the recipe more closely and noted that it said a ‘low speed’. Go figure.)

The 1 ½ cups of warm water (warmed literally by hand), ½ cup vegetable oil and 2 teaspoons of vanilla were much less exciting. It was starting to look more like cake batter and less like a slightly murky pile of powder, which set Kane a little more at ease.

But then came the chemistry.

Kane liked chemistry, usually. Liked reading about how different chemicals went together and caused what. The only difference was that he was usually in the wheelhouse of combustions. Making things explode. Making dairy-free buttermilk was not a combustion. And if it was, it wasn’t supposed to be.

He had the choice of 1 ½ cups of almond or soy milk as a substitution to be combined with 2 far-too-delicately added tablespoons of vinegar. The funk coming from the measuring cup within the next few minutes was… interesting to say the least. Not quite “Daniel’s casserole that was basically all sprouts” or “the time Taker wouldn’t say what he had barbecued” funky, but not something pleasant. How it wasn’t going to ruin the cake, Kane wasn’t sure, but the picture in the recipe looked delicious, so he’d have to trust the crazy mommy blogger for the time being.

The egg substitute made a little more sense. Eggs were gooey and yellow and so was the cup of applesauce he added. Plus it smelled a lot better than the buttermilk.

The second beating was a lot less exciting. No added mess onto himself and almost none onto the counter. Once the batter was smooth, all that was left was somehow getting it all into the pans he’d dug out of the cabinet.

Somehow, the sticky, gooey batter was going to have to make the seamless transition between stand mixer (fuck that thing) and pans that would move just out of the incoming dollop of batter like there was some kind of spirit just hanging around to fuck with him. He wouldn’t put it past the spirit. Wasn’t much to do in the afterlife besides fuck with the living.

A quick lighting of the incense stick Taker had given him seemed to do the trick. Or maybe it calmed his nerves and he stopped jostling the pan. Whatever the case, he made the successful transition from bowl to the three 9” pans and only lost a little batter in the process. They might end up a little wonky, but he planned to fix it with some of the vegan frosting Daniel kept in the back of the fridge where he thought Kane wouldn’t know about it (the man would buy and eat frosting for no reason other than to eat it and pretend immediately after that he’d never eaten frosting in his life, regardless of how much was still in his beard).

35 minutes later, the toothpick he stuck into the middle of each pan was coming out completely clean. Hardly even any crumbs.

He was pulling out the pans as he heard the front door open and Daniel walk in.

“Kane, you here?”

“In the kitchen,” he called back, kicking the oven door shut.

“Kitchen? Isn’t it a little early for dinn- what the fuck are you doing?” Daniel asked, blinking a few times as he paused in the doorway.

“Cake?” He’d been feeling certain about it thus far, but hearing Daniel’s confusion led him to wonder if the cake was supposed to be common knowledge.

“What’s the occasion for cake?”

“Dunno. Vince told me to bake it.”

“A cake?”

“Well… yeah, obviously a cake.”

“He told you to bake a cake?”

“He told John, who told Sheamus, who told Kofi, who told Big Show, who told-”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that, but what were the actual words?”

“‘On Monday, bake a cake.’”

“This Monday?”

“I think so.”

Daniel took a pause and inhaled deeply. “This Monday, when Raw begins at eight? As in, 8pm?”

It was Kane’s turn to pause and look towards his lover with a furrowed brow. “Are you telling me I spent the afternoon baking a cake that wasn’t actually needed?”

“Looking like it.”

Kane wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or drop kick the cakes. He settled for a scream into one of the throw pillows they kept on the kitchen chairs. One so eerie and heartbreaking that Daniel wasn’t sure if he should even touch Kane or what exactly was going to happen after he lifted his face from the pillow. Whatever he was waiting for, it certainly wasn’t laughter. Or a grin from underneath his mask with his eyes dancing.

“Break out the frosting, Danny boy, we’re eating good tonight.”

[al-n-cartoons]

Character Notes for "The Multiverse in a Blender"

Some of these characters are fairly similar in personality and how they speak, so I've been trying to figure out each way their personalities divulge. Please add onto this if you come up with anything (it would be helpful!).

Ben Tennyson: Easy go lucky, cheery, a person-pleaser, has a bit of a vanity streak, is sporty, is dorky, is very overworked, gets bored easily (I'm writing him as having ADHD and OCD), is a fantastic actor/schemer/opertunist. Puts his work above his health. Has an eidetic memory. Is an Aroflux omnisexual. His fashion tastes are a blend of punk and sporty, but the former isn't very socially acceptable in most settings so he tends to keep it to himself.

Rex Salazar: Is sporty, funny, and a bit temperamental. Has a definit rebellious streak and is impulsive, but has a rock-solid understanding of right and wrong. Basically, he'd be the one to punch someone in the face if he felt they deserved it. Is a heterosexual.

Bubbles: Overly excitable, naive, loves life and everything in it. Isn't very book smart, but is a force on the battle field (brute force, like Rex and Buttercup). Is a follower. Loves animals and violence (gets along well with Rex). She's a bit fascinated with the darker aspects of life, but is so cheery that most people view her aggression on the battle field as being ditzy. Is family and friend oriented. Is an aromantic asexual.

Buttercup: Has clearer morals than Bubbles and, although she is a definite punk, is overall less violent than Bubbles. Is competitive (hello, Ben and Rex) and wants to be sporty ("Ben, HOW DO YOU PLAY SOCCER!?). Is a bit rebellious and rude, but does wind up doing as Blossom instructs. Admires Ben's prowess in battle, and is learning from him how to tone down her destructiveness (which is a trait nearly all of her siblings naturally possess per the nature of their powers). Has never thought of her sexuality, and doesn't care to label herself. If she likes a guy, gal, etcetera, she likes 'em.

Blossom: the Sadsap charged with keeping her haywire siblings in check. Loves books, romance novels, and baking. Tries to be nice, but is also a realist (That painting is very colorful, Bubbles, but maybe we should keep the red inside of the people, okay?). Is very interested in healthy eating and loves trying to incorporate healthy stuff into her experimental baked goods (she doesn't use sugar or lipids very much, so her cooking tends to flop per taste and failure to hold in moisture). Is quizzical, sharp, and an opportunist. Isn't afraid to pummel someone if she felt there was need enough ("either you give me the code to disarm the bomb, or I turn your face into pulp.") She is a complete gay-panic.

Bliss: The oldest and second to least emotionally mature sister of the bunch. She tries to lead, but doesn't really know what she's doing. Loves to fight and can access her powers easily, but can't keep them from blowing up on people. Is prone to emotional outbursts and, per the nature of her powers, this is to her detriment. Isn't sociable and hates crowded places. Loves her siblings to bits and loves to bring Bubbles pieces of her foes (rocks, scales, strips of metal that had impaled them) to commemorate her victories. Thinks Danny's the sweetest little thing ("You like space? We can go there, like, right this second. 1-2-3 *zooms away, leaving a confused Danny behind*"). Ace and aro.

Dexter: The adopted brother of Bliss, Buttercupe, Blossom, and Bubbles. Is short-tempered and tends to sulk. Is inventive and technical; a fantastic creator of weaponry and anything of the like. Has a one-sided crush on Ben, but denies so much as liking the guy. Loves coffee but doesn't like to eat much, going so far as creating nutrition pills so as to bypass the affair ("The activity which you are suggesting, Blossom, is a waste of time.") Is a homosexual.

Danny Phantom: Is snarky and has a sardonic personality. Is more serious than some of his cohorts (looking at you, Rex and Bubbles) but loves to wisecrack and is VERY sassy. Is also extremely platonic, loving and trusting his two best friends (Sam and Tucker) with his life. Has a dorky flair for astronomy, and can recognize essentially every constellation in the sky (as well as quite a few of their stories). Has a crush in a character from his hometown, Valerie. Would punch someone in the face as payback, then forgive them for whatever they'd done to upset him or someone else. Is a trans heterosexual (bicurious, perhaps biromantic, but is not bisexual). Has claustrophobia.

Zak Saturday: Exceedingly compassionate and family-oriented, as well as highly skilled in hand-to-hand combat and strategizing. Is very ingenious. Enjoys teasing and joking around, but will also nag someone if he thinks they're being idiotic (this makes it so that he and Rex are a bit at odds with one another). Is also great at finding common ground/compromising. Basically, he'd be the one fixing someone's broken nose and explaining to them where they went wrong, then give them a lollipop. Is dating Ben (they started at age 12) and gets along great with Blossom. Is pansexual.

Connie Maheswaran: Is both people smart and book smart, but lacks quite a bit of street knowledge. Is a considerable combatant, and has a quick wit, but would rather focus on the task at hand than joke around (she calls Danny and Ben out over this). Is kind and understanding, but not a pushover. Has a good head in her shoulders, and is good with details. After their universes fuse, she may take her various skills (hand-to-hand combat, acute intellect, interest in outer space) and apply them to the Plumbers as a long-term career.

Dipper Pines: Family-oriented, not very sociable with people of his age group. Is insecure around the others listed here (baring Mabel, for obvious reasons); sees himself as inferior since he's an intellectual and is incapable on the actual battle field (his words, not mine). Is incredibly smart, a technical thinker, and has a fantastic memory. Is a bi disaster half the time. LOVES to strategize and plot out the how and why for any problem. Loves gaming. Bites off more than he can chew. Keeps Mabel from hurting herself more often than either of them are willing to admit ("Mabel, that's a garbage disposal, not a slide. Mabe-MABEL!!!?") is a panromantic heterosexual. Has a long-distance relationship with Pacifica, but both of them are equally supportive so it's worked out thus far.

Mabel Pines: Family and friend oriented, is a bi disaster. Is an obscene romantic, which tends to leave her with her heart crushed, but she bounces back after a day or two. Is considerably strong, considering the fact that she's entirely human with no combat training, and is learning how to use hand-held weapons. Isn't very intuitive, but is very interpersonally smart. Is an animal lover, owning a pet pig and cat ("Dipper, look, my babies are cuddling!") (I didn't add the cat in, guys; episode one).

Steven Universe: Is the human teddy bear. He is a pacifist, meaning that he refuses to start fights or violence but isn't afraid to save someone from another or themselves. Tries to fix every problem but his own. Is a compulsive overexplainer and apologizer. His best friend is a lion, so people tend not to mess with him. Also, Lion likes to just lie atop Steven's van when they go places. He is compassionate, caring, loving, trusting, and has mommy issues (and also slight daddy issues, but barely). Trauma baby who only wants his girlfriend to succeed and for her to be happy (preferably with him nearby, but he tries to give her a respectful distance). He is a panromantic asexual.

Is that everyone? I think that's everyone.

Edit: I forgot Steven, guys. Had to edit him in.

[cumulativechaos]

the marks on her skin

Written for TMA Hurt/Comfort Week, Day 5: Hiding Injury/Pain

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The wound on Sasha’s neck is easy to hide under her trademark turtleneck. The burns on her hand, not so much. When she’d stormed into the Archive, ready to raise hell and confront Elias, the first thing Tim had said was “Jesus, Sash, what happened to your hand?”

Well, no. The first thing he’d said was her name, wide-eyed and wondrous, as if she’d returned from the dead. Which was ridiculous, because she wasn’t dead, she’d just been on the run from the law. Which, yeah, still somewhat alarming, but not worth the stares the Archive staff gave her.

After their confrontation with Elias, Sasha retreats back to her office, not sure what to do next. It’s weird, being back after so long spent hiding at her old college roommate’s flat. She’d gotten used to the smell of weed and the sound of nature documentaries playing from the living room. Now, the silence and smell of old papers seems oppressive, somehow.

She gets back to work as quickly as she can, working through the backlog that’s built up in her absence. Most of it is more research on fake stories, and they upload quickly to her computer. The ones that don’t record she sets aside for later, deciding that today is not the day she works on those statements. She doesn’t realize how much time has passed until Tim is strolling into her office with a cheery, “Knock knock, boss.”

“Tim,” Sasha says, closing her computer. “Can I help you?”

“Was actually going to ask if I could help you,” Tim says. “Let me see your hand.”

Sasha freezes. If she were standing, she would back away. “It’s fine,” she says. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

“Sasha,” he says in that stupid sing-song tone, the one he uses when she’s being stubborn. She rolls her eyes at him. “Come on, let me look at it.”

She bites her lip, debating her options. She could throw a stack of statements at him and run the other direction. She could pretend to see a worm, even though Jane Prentiss is long dead. Or she could just suck it up and show him the burns.

She barely winces as she unwraps her hand. She watches as Tim’s eyes widen in shock and his face pales. Where Jude’s hand had grasped hers the skin is raw, red and blistering. She’d only caught a brief glimpse of the damage before she wrapped it up, but it looks as awful as Sasha remembers.

“ Jesus,” Tim breathes.

Sasha rubs at her neck. “It’s fine,” she lies. The skin still stings, even now.

“All right, that’s it,” Tim says. “I have some first aid stuff back at my place, I’m going to properly take care of that.”

“Tim, no,” Sasha says.

“Unless you want to go to A&E?” he asks.

Sasha bites her lip. “Fine,” she says. “But if you keep fussing over me I’m firing you.”

Tim grins. “Sure thing, boss.”

Tim’s flat is close to the Institute, barely a ten minute walk. The evening air is cool against Sasha’s burnt hand. She can’t help but rub at the wound on her neck again. It’s starting to itch persistently.

The first aid kit Tim produces is extensive: there’s bandages, gauze, antiseptic wipes, medicine, a thermometer, a tourniquet, and a splint. When she asks why he has so many supplies, Tim’s face falls.

“Danny used to get into all kinds of messes,” he says. “I got used to patching him up, when he visited.”

“Oh.” Sasha doesn’t know what to say to that, so she shuts her mouth and lets Tim wipe burn cream across her hand. His touch is incredibly gentle, even as she winces through the pain. He’s careful with her, moving slowly and making sure he gets every inch of the burn. Sasha can’t help but stare as he gently cradles her hand.

“Why do you keep rubbing your neck?” Tim asks.

Sasha’s free hand darts away. “No reason,” she blurts.

Tim fixes her with a stare. “Come off it, Sash,” Tim says. “You’ve been touching it all day. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she insists, but she knows it’s a lost cause. Before she can react, Tim reaches up with the hand that isn’t covered in burn cream and pulls the top of her turtleneck down an inch. Sasha’s hit with a sudden memory, deeply buried in the recesses of the “Big Mistakes” section of her mind: Tim, pressed against her, pulling her turtleneck down to suck a deep bruise into her neck, and Sasha thinking to herself that she was glad that turtlenecks were already her brand.

Back in the present, Tim frowns. His eyes are on the hasty bandage she’d slapped on the knife wound Daisy had left. “Sasha…”

Face flushed, Sasha bats his hand away and leans back, so their faces aren’t so close. “It’s fine,” she says. “Just a scratch.”

“It’s still bleeding,” Tim says.

Damnit. “Oh, I like this turtleneck,” Sasha whines.

“How did this happen?” he asks. His thumb brushes over the corner of the wound, where a scab has started to form.

“Murder cop,” Sasha says. “It’s not a big deal, honest.”

“Bullshit,” Tim says. “Look, I’m going to get you a t-shirt to change into, and then I’m going to bandage that up properly, okay?”

Sasha rolls her eyes. “Fine, whatever,” she says. “If it makes you happy.”

“It does,” Tim says, then he steps back and heads in the direction Sasha knows leads to his bedroom. Another memory, unbidden: Tim’s shirt half-unbuttoned, Tim’s hands roaming across her body, lips dancing together as they stumbled blindly in the dark towards Tim’s bed.

Sasha shakes her head, clearing the image away. Now is not the time.

Underneath her shirt she’s wearing a plain sports bra, nothing special, but Tim still squeaks (literally, actually squeaks ) when he returns, t-shirt in hand. He turns around quickly, arm extended towards her and eyes squeezed firmly shut.

“ Really, Tim?” Sasha asks, laughing. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“Yeah, well, it’s been a while since the last time,” Tim says. “You caught me off guard, okay? I didn’t expect you to already have your shirt off.”

“Whatever,” Sasha says, grabbing the shirt from Tim and pulling it over her head. “You can look, now.”

Tim’s face is slightly flushed when he turns back around. Sasha can’t help but smirk as Tim clears his throat and returns to the task at hand.

He peels the bandage Sasha had applied; it all but slides off, already slicked with blood. He uses a damp towel to dry off the blood, then uses a generous amount of antiseptic ointment on the wound. Sasha hisses at the sting, but she remains still. After that, Tim wipes his hands on the towel and cuts a generous square of gauze before pressing it firmly against the cut. “Hold that for a moment,” he says, reaching for bandage tape.

With her good hand, Sasha holds the gauze in place. She doesn’t look away from Tim’s face as he carefully tapes the gauze to her throat. His tongue pokes out as he concentrates, and the space between his eyebrows creases. It’s somewhat adorable.

“There,” he says when he’s finished. He leans back, inspecting his handiwork. “Much better.”

Sasha smiles at him, then suddenly feels her smile begin to wobble. Oh no, she thinks to herself, just as tears begin to roll, unbidden, down her cheeks.

“Sash?” Tim’s voice is panicked. His hands flutter nervously around her, unsure of what to do. “Sasha, what’s wrong?”

Sasha shakes her head. Words aren’t working for her right now. After a few gasping sobs, she holds her arms out. Tim, thankfully, recognizes a request for a hug when he sees one, and wraps her up in a warm embrace. Sasha clings to him as she sobs, tears and snot dripping onto Tim’s shirt, but Tim just rubs circles into her back and whispers to her that it’s okay,

“I d-don’t know what’s happening to me,” she says, voice thick with tears. “I’m-I’m changing. Tim, I’m scared.”

“I know,” Tim says softly. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay!” Sasha pulls back, not out of Tim’s arms, but far enough that she can look him in the eye. “Tim, I’m becoming a monster!”

“Okay,” Tim says.

“ Okay?”

“Okay,” he repeats. “Then you’re some spooky supernatural monster. You’re still Sasha.”

Sasha’s lip wobbles. She pulls Tim back in, squeezing with all her might. Tim’s body is warm, solid. Grounding.

“I missed you, y’know,” Tim says quietly. “I was worried.”

Sasha sniffs. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Tim says. “It’s not your fault.”

“I missed you, too,” Sasha admits. “I would’ve come to you, but I knew you’d be one of the first places they’d look.”

“Where are you hiding out, anyway?” Tim asks, prompting Sasha to snort.

“I told you about Tracy, didn’t I?”

“ No,” Tim says, pulling away to stare at Sasha in horror. “Terrible Tracy? Would try and have sex with her boyfriend while you were still in the dorm?”

“That’s the one,” Sasha giggles. Her tears are subsiding now, leaving her with a strong case of the hiccups. Her chest shudders against Tim’s.

“I hope you’re not planning on going back there tonight,” Tim says. “Not if you don’t have to.”

“No, I don’t think I will,” Sasha says. She suddenly realizes what going back to her flat would mean, though, and she finds herself dreading returning home. “I don’t want to be alone, though.”

She didn’t mean to say that last part out loud, but Tim only reacts with a shrug. “Not like you haven’t slept over before.”

“These are different circumstances,” she reminds him.

She might be imagining it, but Sasha swears she sees Tim flush slightly. “Well, yeah,” he says. “Offer still stands, though.”

“This is highly unprofessional,” she says in a fake-serious voice. Tim laughs at that.

“I think we’re past that point,” he says. He’s smiling, his trademark lopsided grin, and it makes her chest clench. He really is unfairly handsome. Her gaze lingers a moment too long, staring into his dark eyes, and she realizes that she’s leaning forward, slowly closing the gap between them.

Clearing her throat, Sasha leans back. Tim blinks, dazed, then swallows and looks away.

“I’m sorry,” Sasha says. “I don’t… I still stand by what I said. We would be a bad idea.”

“I know,” Tim says. He sounds defeated. “I’m not trying to pull anything here. I just want you to feel safe.”

“I do feel safe,” Sasha says. “I feel safe with you.”

The smile Tim gives her is blinding. “Then I’m happy,” he says. “Come on, let’s order dinner and watch shitty reality television.”

“Yes, please,” Sasha says.