#and dashing away from the crater he left them in

[whorangi1104]

Ghoap AU: Frozen Hearts and Electric Souls

Chapter 9: Something weird…?

“Ah’m fine, ye wanker, git offa me!”

Ghost backed off of Soap and immediately readied his gun for battle. Just seconds earlier, he had spotted one of the shadows shifting, and had tackled Johnny not a second too late, as he felt the air of whatever had been going for Soap glide less than an inch above them. There was no sign of the thing, but it’s shriek still lingered in the air, not to mention the unnatural drone from earlier.

“Fucking hell Soap, be more careful. You can’t trust the people on your six all the time.”

“Yeah yeah, back to the matter at hand. Is that what the pollys sound like? And where the fuck is it?”

“Quiet muppets, listen.”

They all fell silent at Price’s words, and it wasn’t long before they heard the soft clip-clopping of hooves, although even that sound wasn’t natural, more of a wispy echo of a true horse. The shadows of the ruins weren’t just subtly flickering anymore, they were bending around shapes, revealing the monsters in them.

“Why the hell do they look like deer?”

“Good question lad. One that we obviously don’t know the answer to, Gaz.”

Ghost unloaded a full clip into the nearest buck, but it did about as much damage as it would’ve to smoke before the thing gathered into a black blur and glided off into a nearby ruin. It was at this moment a wall of water rose up around them, held up by price, but was easily passed by the shadowy figures, and only slightly slowed them once frozen. Soap’s shocks did virtually nothing, cutting apart the inky darkness before the shadows swarmed together as if it had never been touched. The only real effects were from Gaz, only managing to hold them back with winds whipping their smoke-like forms, but only effective as a defense, useless as an attack.

“Head west to town square and meet up with the others! We can’t last like this!”

The closer they were to town square, the louder the sounds of gunshots and battle became. As Ghost rounded the corner into town square, a sight met his eyes that was as stunning as it was terrifying. There were craters in the ground from pieces of the ruins slamming into the Apollyons, temporarily dissolving them before they reformed, thrown by Rudy who was backed up against Alejandro. bursts of flame came from the ground at Alejandro’s command, which the Apollyons seemed to avoid, and turned any of the ones that weren’t quick enough to hide away into a tiny wisp of black that glided away out sight.

From the opposite side of the square, came Graves and his five shadows, and a sack the size of a small apartment made up of the same thing the apollyons were, with shapes shifting inside. Once present, Graves had dark shapes slamming into the apollyons, which seemed like the only things that were on the same plane of existence as them, knocking them back and trapping them.With the groups reunited, the tide turned on the pollys, until a lone shadowy figure crept behind the ruins and charged unnoticed towards one of the shadows.

“HEDGE!”

The figure seemed to merge with the soldier, creating a darkness around him that seemed like a dense fog, as Graves rushed over and started shaking him by the shoulders.

“Hedge, can you hear me? Shadow! Answer me!”

As Graves broke concentration, the dark sack disintegrated, releasing dozens of apollyons into the midst of the group.

“FUCKING HELL, GET YER ARSE BACK HERE LAD! PRICE WE CANNAE HOLD EM!”

“Get Back To The Humvees! There’s Nothing Left In This Place!”

Ghost grabbed Graves and practically pushed him towards exfil while two other shadows carried the one that appeared shell shocked as they made a dash towards the humvees with debris and powers raining down on the apollyons behind them.

“LT, git in here!”

Ghost fell into the driver's seat with Soap throwing out some last minute defenses behind them from the passenger seat and floored the gas.

“Fucking hell LT, ye just crashed through a whole row of peddler stands.”

“There wasn't anyone there.”

“Still, aye dinnae think it’s a good idea ye drive more than ye have te.”

BOOM.

“...aye may have put down a wee bit of an experiment. It worked though.”

“Was the stuff in it legal?”

“None of yer business Gaz.”

“Fucking muppet.”

—

Soap stepped out of the humvee back at base with the sorest neck known to mankind, having been jostled through dirt roads and skirted up on rocks more times than he could count, and checked out the dents on the vehicle, those would need to be fixed later.

“Sergeant!”

“Yes Captain?”

“Debrief in twenty, room 264.”

“Aye, noted.”

“And Soap?”

“Yeah?”

“Meet me in my office afterwards.” “yessir.”

>>time skip<<

*Knock knock*

The debreif had been same old same old, what happened (everyone got attacked), info collected (almost nothing) and so on.

“Come in.”

Soap pushed open the door and entered Price’s office, where he was greeted by Lasswell in the corner and some fidgety smart looking guy with glasses, slicked back hair, and a well ironed polo shirt with the name ‘Richard’ pinned to it holding a rolled up piece of paper.

“Ye wanted te see me captain?”

“Some new info from the mission revealed you could be the key to ridding these pests, as we suspected when we recruited you.”

Laswell pulled out Soap’s file from a cabniet and flipped it open to the form on his gift.

“You’re an energy varient. Normally they get to control one kind of energy, light, heat, sound, etc. but you can utilize multiple, maybe even all, mainly focused heat and light, like lasers or lightning. Your attacks during the mission were reported to have cut throught the apollyons but not eradicate them, yes?”

“Aye.”

Richard unrolled the paper onto the desk, revealing a blueprint of sorts.

“Then you should consider project A.”

[phantomskeep]

Putting the "Fun" Back in "Funeral" - Chapter 1

AO3 Link | Next Chapter

Chapter One: Furries, Cannibalism, and... The Goonion?

Danny sometimes wished he could travel through time. Don’t get him wrong! He knows the danger of messing up the time stream (Dan, Desiree, and Clockwork all taught him that much) but there are still times when he would sit on top of a building, staring at the stars, wondering what he would change given half the chance.

Currently, however, he was debating on his life choices while very much not on a rooftop.

White gloved hands shakily grasped broken concrete, slowly lifting his beaten body out of a crater in the middle of some random street. The latest ghost who had decided to try their hand at using Danny as a punching bag was one that he hadn’t encountered before. His usual roster of ghostly enemies still came by, of course. They all visited Amity Park at least once a week - if not more. However, the ghostly entity that Danny was currently facing? He had never seen them.

It was something that had been occurring more and more often. A random ghost would show up, declare a challenge against Danny, and inevitably lose.

As Danny raised himself out of his impromptu resting place, he considered the being before him. Dark, void black skin and fur greeted him. The ghost’s face was an odd cross between a horse’s and a dog’s - a long, block-shaped snout with a mouth reaching right up to under their dark red eyes. Pointed ears flicked wildly back and forth between a long mane that reached just up until the collar of the ghost’s thick golden necklace. The ghost’s choice of clothes baffled the white-haired man greatly; black dress shirt and bright, gaudy golden skinny jeans? Really? Who died and thought that was a good fashion choice?

Yeah, Danny was just as baffled.

The other ghost looked down at the young halfa, “I cannot fathom how you are the one Hotep described to me.” He sneered, clearly mocking Danny. “The great Akuris will easily defeat such a pathetic child.”

Danny gasped, mock-offended. “Well, Mr Tall Dark And Barks A Lot, I will have you know that at least I don’t dress like an accountant in the middle of a mid-life crisis.” He smirked before resting a soul-piercing green glare at the larger ghost floating above where Danny stood. “Or would it be mid-afterlife crisis?”

With that, Danny leapt back into action. He swung a powerful punch directly into Akuris’ long muzzle, causing the dark ghost to be pushed back. Amity Park’s ghostly hero did not relent on his assault, though. Danny followed the other ghost’s backwards momentum to bodily slam into his opponent’s soft belly in a move he often saw Dash pull during his football practices. The twenty-year-old halfa quickly grabbed the Fenton thermos off of his belt loop, taking the opportunity to finally capture the winded ghost.

A great sigh left Danny’s body as he hovered in the air, surveying the damage leftover from the fight between the two. It was well around two in the morning, judging by the placement of the twinkling stars. With a jolt, Danny remembered that today was the day of his coronation - exactly five years after he defeated Pariah Dark.

Originally, Danny had been told he was technically king of the Ghost Zone in the aftermath of the battle. The young ghost had argued with the mysterious time-themed ghost named Clockwork who had appeared and was successfully able to get a five-year grace period of kingly procrastination.

Since then, Danny had grown up a little bit. He defeated his alternate evil self, discovered new powers, traveled through time on Clockwork’s request, graduated high school, took a “gap year” to focus solely on fighting ghosts, and successfully never let his parents or the world know about his ghostly half. All in all, Danny considered it a successful time.

All good things must come to an end, though, the half-ghost thought as he kept staring dejectedly at the stars so far away. He knew that even though he probably should tell his parents what was going on, but the fear of everything going wrong lurked in the back of his mind. After the events of Dan, the young man pulled away from his parents’ bit by bit. It was grief that drove Danny to rip out the most vulnerable parts of himself, after all. If he had nothing to grieve about then he would never be pushed into doing something as drastic as destroying the world, right?

Jazz disagreed very heavily with his mentality, but he was fine with that.

Another sigh left the poor halfa’s body, and he re-hooked the Fenton Thermos to his belt loop. He might as well go back home to continue to lick his wounds before he had to, unfortunately, be crowned king. What a shitty Tuesday.

༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ 

Later that day, at exactly three in the afternoon, Danny Phantom walked through the ghost portal in his parent’s basement. It felt almost like he was walking towards his own death - a quiet, somber affair with very little fanfare. Danny had made sure no one knew what he was up to; Sam, Tucker, and Jazz all had their own lives to worry about. He was sure that the three of them would give Danny the ass-kicking of the century for making them miss such a big milestone in Danny’s life, but…

Well, from the walk-through of the coronation his ghostly mentors laid out for him, Danny was sure this would not be a pretty affair.

Danny pulled himself from his musings as he stared into the deep green abyss in front of him. The young, white-haired ghost tilted his head forward, letting gravity take hold as the man fell into the Zone like a sort of twisted, backwards Baptism.

Useless lungs pulled in the ambient ectoplasm streaking through the air of the Infinite Realms. A parade of ghosts were waiting for him on the other side, lines of his soon-to-be subjects chanting his name. Ectoplasm-green eyes darted across the various ghosts lining the young king’s path, quickly registering those he knew and didn’t. Many of them wore clothing from various different eras, some seemingly dressed to impress their new ruler. Danny spotted one ghost in particular wearing what looked like a bedazzled bathrobe next to one whose long hair seemed to be braided into their dress. Some of the others who were cheering him on were more animal-like than Danny had come to expect, or were even completely non-humanoid. The odd shadow of a ghostly whale loomed over Danny as he turned his awed face upwards to watch the giant creature sail easily overhead with Young Blood’s pirate ship alongside it. Many loud cheers were heard from the ghostly child’s crew and large booms echoed across the infinite green surrounding them as cannons were fired. Smaller marine afterlife followed closely behind, easily marking the trail Danny had to follow to arrive at his official coronation spot with their different, bright colors. 

Even though Danny had gone over what he was supposed to do with his council, he still hesitated a little in the face of all the excited residents of the Zone. He knew, logically, that many were excited for him to take the crown. King Phantom’s reign was projected to be one of peace among the Realms, after all. However, seeing it? All of the souls - passed or created - of the Ghost Zone cheering for him?

Well, it made his core swell with a frosty sense of pride-I did this-they are safe-protect my people. It filled him with a feeling lighter than air and full of confidence, like he was actually making a good choice for once in his half-life.

Danny slowly started moving forward, waving at the Zone’s inhabitants, talking to those he knew. Pariah’s old castle had been slowly moving closer to where the Fenton Portal usually floated in the great expanse of the Realms. What used to be a two-hour flight was now closer to a little under an hour’s walk. So while Danny originally complained to Frostbite about how he didn’t want to slowly make his way there, he realized now the giant ice ghost was probably right when he said Danny’s stroll from his old haunt to his new one would seem faster than ever. It certainly didn’t feel like much time had passed at all when Danny finally laid eyes on the large, ugly castle that was going to be his.

Danny’s first order as king? Tear that eyesore down. Ew.

The thought made the young king snicker quietly, before slightly turning his head to eyeball the thousands of ecto-entities at his back. He scanned the ever-growing crowd under the watchful eyes of his various mentors. He could pick out Ember, Lydia, even that ghost who fought him that morning - Akuris? -, and so many more of his various frenemies watching Danny. 

The young man picked his methodical float back up to his new haunt. He could just barely see the figures bobbing at the front doors to the royal eyesore, though he could pick each of the Ancient ghosts out easily. Danny felt his core thrum nervously inside his chest, seeming almost like a heart with just how harshly it pulsed. Underneath his gloves, the white-haired ghost felt sweat start to form. But Danny kept making his way down to the landing where many ghosts were waiting for him to be officially crowned as king.

Danny really, really hoped he wouldn’t make an absolute fool of himself.  

As Danny looked up at the stoic figure of Clockwork, the various Ancient Ghosts fanned out beside the Master of Time: Frostbite had a goofy smile on his large face, Pandora wore a proud smirk, Ghost Writer was almost sneering at him as the smaller ghost floated next to his peers. Vortex was grudgingly gazing at the inhabitants of the Realms with his large arms crossed, and, finally, Undergrowth was completely ignoring Danny. Fright Knight, while not an Ancient, was standing alongside the various mentors Danny had throughout the years. Behind the Ancients floated many of the Observants, who gazed upon the Zone with an air of collective anticipation.

Taking a small step, Danny finally presented himself to the various ghosts looming over his much smaller figure. The halfa gave Clockwork a nervous smile, only to receive a tiny nod from the much older ghost. With an awkward about-face, Danny fully faced the entirety of the Ghost Zone steadily. He felt it when Clockwork stepped up to be next to Danny, the Ancient staying in his middle-aged form to address the Infinite Realms and her inhabitants.

“People of the Realms,” Clockwork started, his voice booming over the quickly quieting chatter. “Today is a new dawn for us. Five years ago, Danny Phantom defeated King Pariah Dark through single combat - sealing the King back into his Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep. This was a task that the Ancients ourselves struggled to complete in years past,” the blue ghost paused, resting a comforting hand on Danny’s (totally not shaking) shoulder. “And as our laws state, upon the defeat of the previous Ruler of the Realms the new King must take the final step into rulership by consuming all that remains of the preceding Crowned Head.”

Even though Danny knew it was coming, hearing those words out of Clockwork’s mouth made him shudder all the same. When he turned to face Clockwork the young halfa could feel Clockwork’s concern radiating off of him, even as he still went through the process of accepting the box holding Pariah Dark’s core from Frostbite. Danny tried to focus on the box - dark red with black trims, how nice - instead of what he was about to do. This was another part of the whole “you’re going to be king” schtick that Danny complained about greatly.

Eating another person, even if that person was technically a ghost, just felt so wrong to the halfa. Unfortunately, as Clockwork opened the sparsely decorated box, Danny was about to have to become a (technical) cannibal.

Yay.

The white-haired young man cupped his hands like he had practiced weeks prior. Clockwork gently lifted the swirling pearl to place in Danny’s waiting hands. Pariah’s core, despite holding one of the nastiest beings Danny had the unfortunate luck to meet, was honestly a thing of beauty. Dark reds dueled with lighter pinks, with small bubbles of fire and electricity leisurely swirling amidst it all, deep inside the older ghost’s core. Danny almost wanted to shake it to see if it would swirl like a snow globe.

Danny hesitates for a second, glancing up at Clockwork. The ancient being floated patiently, deep red eyes boring into Danny’s own. Ectoplasm-filled air passed through the halfa’s chest as Danny carefully rolled the pulsing core onto one gloved hand, slowly bringing it to his mouth. A shudder racked Danny’s body as he quickly dropped the warm rock-like core onto his extended tongue before hurriedly swallowing it whole.

For a brief moment, Danny only felt the dizzy sensation of nausea before a blinding surge of raw power burst through his chest. His core was practically vibrating with uncontained energy and felt like it was going to push through his chest like some sort of alien baby in a shitty horror movie. The sharp sensation of pain took over Danny’s entire world, his eyes open but unseeing.

It felt like hours had passed by the time the young half-ghost’s thought process was restored. He groggily blinked, attempting to focus on the present. Strength flowed through Danny’s veins - which he dutifully ignored in favor of looking up towards the oppressing castle behind himself. The keep itself was barely shaking, little pieces of rubble spilling into the greenish fog surrounding it. A pulse rushed through Danny’s core and he was in awe as he watched the depths of the Zone light up in tandem. A shaky hand reached up to clutch at the stylized letter displayed on the halfa’s chest - Danny could feel the Zone around himself. Trying not to panic, knowing that Clockwork said this was totally normal, young Danny, he managed to give his mentor a shaky nod.

The other ghost continued on with his speech, like the last few minutes hadn’t happened. Taking a large, glowing green skull ring from the steady hands of Undergrowth, Clockwork spoke. “With the core consumed, King Phantom will bear the Ring of Rage with a fair and just hand.”

Danny held his quivering right hand forward, watching as the older ghost slowly slid the ghostly artifact over his ring finger. Holding his breath, Danny waited. He fully expected the ring to reject him - who would put him in charge of an entire realm, after all? When the sharp sting of electricity never came, the halfa let out the smallest sigh of relief. His eyes met Clockwork’s own, earning a smile in response.

When Danny casted his gaze back onto the ectoplasm colored jewelry, he was shocked to note the colors and overall shape of it had changed. Before he had the chance to further inspect it, he was interrupted. 

“The Ring of Rage is coupled with the Skeleton Key,” Clockwork continued as Ghost Writer presented the glowing key to the other ghost, “and is used to access the many realms connected to our own. The Key allows our Crowned Head to reach any of his subjects in their times of need.” With that, Clockwork waved his hand in front of the artifact. When the key was back in Danny’s view, he could see it was attached to a sturdy-looking chain. The young man ducked his head, letting Clockwork slip the necklace over his head.

Clockwork turned to face Pandora, who was holding a flaming green crown in her hands. He gently took the headwear, before meeting Danny’s eyes. “And finally, to fully become Ruler of the Infinite Realms - Land of the Dead, the Eternal Plains, the Place Between, Heaven and Hell - a crown built from the fires of her core must be placed onto the brow of the Realm’s Chosen. King Phantom, kneel before the people you are to rule and accept this great burden for them. Feel their cores with your own, their obsessions alongside your own, and the Realm will fully accept you as her Crowned.” Gingerly, Danny dropped to his knees like he had practiced. He bowed his head, closing his eyes and waiting for the Crown of Fire’s weight.

When the warm metal touched his head, Danny felt the Zone shudder. As a bright light eclipsed Danny’s form, he could feel the metal on top of him change. In fact, as the young king tried to focus on his newest headgear, he could tell he was no longer wearing the white hazmat suit he died in.

The light faded and Danny took stock of himself. Monochrome rubber had turned into fancy-looking black pants tucked into armored white boots, a tight-fitting white shirt with his logo in black blazed across his chest, and a heavy-fitting cloak wrapped around himself. Danny wanted to inspect himself more - but the feeling of the Zone pulsing through his core brought Danny’s attention to the cheering of the thousands of ghosts around himself.

Danny was flooded with the feelings of happiness-hope-rejoicing-euphoria from around him. The Zone quaked, pulsing purple lights blooming across the infinite green void surrounding its inhabitants. A smile cracked its way across Danny’s face, and he didn’t even try to hide it as he faced his subjects. The speech Ghost Writer drilled into his head fled Danny, and for just a second he floundered. Before he could drown in the bottomless pit that was his brain, another pulse of pure hope shot through his veins.

Feeling like he was drugged, Danny spoke around his smile. “When I was a kid,” he started, “I never could have imagined becoming the King of anything. All I wanted to do was go to space, to see the stars watching over me.” He let out a laugh. Usually, these days, when Danny laughed it was world-weary and bitter. Now, high on the feeling of hope, his laugh was one of joy. “Now look at me! Look at yourselves! We’ve all come so far - and I promise to protect each and every one of you. I will be your star - your light in the dark, your guide to a better future.”

“You are the people of the Infinite Realms, and it is my promise to forever keep you all safe.”

The ghosts of the Zone cheered for him. Pandora flanked Danny’s right side, Clockwork on his left. A cold presence at his back told the new king that Frostbite was behind him. Danny could only assume the other Ancients were also surrounding him, but he didn’t dare look away from the mingling bodies before himself. As one, the Ancient Ghosts let their cores hum, speaking in a language known only to those of the Zone. Before him, Danny’s subjects joined in until a swelling song of hope-peace-happiness-new era flooded his senses, leaving the young halfa to float endlessly in the feeling of pure acceptance.

That day, as a chapter of the Ghost Zone’s history ended and a new one began, a song of hope touched the many universes attached to it.

ヾ( ･`⌓´･)ﾉﾞ

Jason’s day was going pretty okay, so far. He woke up a little before noon, made himself some breakfast, worked out for a few hours, and managed to read an entire three pages of a book before he got a call from his siblings about a potential drug bust. A majority of them had recently began working on chipping away at the increasing amount of drug trading going around Gotham. Ever since Red Hood had taken a step back from his self-appointment crime lord duties, other criminals have been attempting to fill in his shoes. It usually ended in one of Gotham’s various vigilantes drop-kicking said criminals into a wall, but still. Criminals were the worst kind of weed.

So with a grumble that was half for show and half pure annoyance at being interrupted, the man suited up and made a stealthily exit out his window. Apparently he had a pre-”Curbstomping the Newest Pain in His Ass of the Week” meeting to attend with a handful of the Wayne family.

Jason can only hope he doesn’t get stuck with the annoying ones for this.

His day was still going pretty well after the initial run-down of the game plan when he and Dick, who was decked out in his Nightwing wear, finally landed on top of a warehouse’s unstable roof. They were near the edge of Crime Alley and Robbinsville, closer to the docks than Jason’s usual patrol routes brought him. Based off of Oracle and Red Robin’s joint intel, a large shipment of illegal drugs was being delivered to the Iceberg Lounge sometime after dusk. The issue came up when the question of how the drugs were going to be transferred from wherever they were stored to Penguin’s business front.

Which is where the Batkids came in, apparently.

“Comms check,” Oracle started. “Nightwing, sound off.”

“Comms confirmed, reading you loud and clear!” The older vigilante chirped from where he was stretching lazily. “Red Hood?”

Red Hood sighed, speaking up. “All good. Red Robin?”

“Also reading loud and clear. Orphan?”

Three taps cut across the comms, letting the other four know their sister could hear them all. “Awesome,” Oracle started. “Plan A is ready on Red Robin’s signal. Remember - do not engage.”

Hood slowly rose from his crouch, shaking his hands out before letting them rest on the many holsters strapped to his body. “How many times is she going to say something like that?” He stated, words practically oozing sarcasm. “Every single time we somehow manage to still end up in a shoot-out.” 

The crime lord could practically see Red Robin’s eyes rolling, “And who’s fault is that, Mr. Emotional Support Guns?”

“Shut it, Replacement,” the Hood growled.

He lazily turned to look at Nightwing, a challenging grin hidden behind the red helmet protecting his face. “Race you, Dickface.” Hood stated before turning east and leaping off the roof in a burst of speed. The helmeted man ignored his brother’s sputtering protests as he tried to keep the small gap forming between the two while they parkoured to the docks in one of the most eastern parts of Gotham.

Jason wanted to laugh, to revel in the feeling of messing around with his older brother. Despite all the bad blood still looming between the rest of the Wayne clan (adopted, blood, “family friends” or otherwise) and Jason, he wanted to make up for his past mistakes with the rest of his family.

Does this mean he fully forgave Bruce for never avenging his death? No.

But did he see the man try. Dick told Jason about the full-body cast their father put Joker in as soon as Batman could. Which was more than Bruce ever told Jason, but whatever. All of the Bat’s kids know he’s emotionally constipated on the best days.

Things were still awkward between all of them, though. Jason talked more to Dick than the rest of the Bat Clan, mostly because he was the only one between the original three who actually apologized. For being a shitty older brother, for not being there, for not realizing Jason was back earlier. Really, the older man practically apologized for everything under the sun one night while Jason stuffed his face full of fries and tried his best to not be emotional. He still needed to talk to the others about everything that happened.

However, that meant emotions and Jason? Jason didn’t do emotions.

He was a cold-blooded semi-retired Crime Lord. Anyone who said he had any emotions besides pure, seething rage was a lying liar who lies.

Even though Jason’s head was practically higher in the clouds than his body was, he was abruptly reminded that he was doing some epic parkour when Nightwing finally passed him.

“You’ve gotten slower, Hood!” The older taunted as he did a theatrical flip between rooftops.

Red Hood let out a frustrated noise, all previous thoughts of his family forcibly shaken from his brain when he rolled onto a gravel-topped roof. 

The man could tell by the state of the buildings around him that they were getting closer to the docks. Red Robin and Orphan would be further north than Nightwing and himself. The intel collected had stated there were two locations being used that night; one was a dunce, the other had the actual goods. Red Robin originally wanted to only focus on the location with the actual drugs, but Nightwing was able to convince him to also hit up the secondary location for information. So, that’s what they eventually agreed to do.

Hood looked forward, eyeing Nightwing as the other slowed to a stop at the edge of the last warehouse’s roof before the high-chained fences of the port stood. “You ready to bust some kneecaps?” Hood quipped as he walked up behind his brother.

“But of course,” Nightwing playfully scoffed, “hopefully we got the drug side of things.”

“That’s a sentence that would worry most parents.”

Even with the domino mask covering the older vigilante, Hood knew he was getting side-eyed. “And you suddenly care about what parents think?”

“Not the time, Wing.” The crime lord practically growled. He knew that was a remark aimed at the sort-of hostility between Jason and Bruce. And he was going to be the adult in this situation, thank you, Dick, and ignore what his brother said. “Let’s go ahead and get this over with.”

“Alright, alright,” the other pacified, “time to get our sneak on.”

Hood rolled his eyes, even if they were covered by his helmet. He aimed himself towards the edge of the street between the two vigilantes and the fenced in areas. With a quick drop and a well-timed roll, Red Hood was in a secure shadow cast by the metal warehouse. With a near-silent grunt, Nightwing joined him. The two shared a nod while Nightwing let Oracle know that they were about to enter their targeted site.

The larger of heroes quickly moved across the small, broken down street. Nightwing was half a pace behind him, and the two easily vaulted over the tall, barbed fence unsuccessfully keeping out unwanted civilians.

Silently, they hurried deeper into the heart of the port, easily dashing between long shadows thrown between towering cargo containers. Hood only slid to a stop when Nightwing held up a fist - a silent order to stop. A few months ago, Jason would have completely ignored his brother’s signals and simply shoved his way past him. Now, however, Hood stilled just behind the smaller figure. With a hurried gesture, Nightwing grappled as quietly as possible onto the dulled metal stacked around them, Red Hood quickly following.

Hood watched as five figures turned into the alley the two had just been. Kevlar-covered fingers caught Hood’s attention in swift commands to spread out and attempt to follow the people below them. A quick nod of a helmeted head showed agreement and Hood silently stalked his prey from his perch on top of sea-touched metals. Nightwing slowly slinked the opposite direction, going his own route to cover more ground.

The five people, dressed in stereo-typical “Goon in Hiding Garb” (as Dick helpfully named it so many years ago), continued on their journey between the containers. Their silent observant kept close watch on them, doing his best to listen in on their conversation. A fit of frustration ran hot and angry through Hood’s veins when he realized that, in order to clearly hear what was being said, he would have to plant a bug of some sort.

Which meant he would have to get closer. And Jason? He really did not want to do that.

However, since Hood was such a nice person, he would put his frustrations to the side in order to successfully plant a tiny Batbug. He was just that nice.

Hood waited until his unsuspecting targets rounded another corner to take action. Once the end of his grapple line was securely hooked, the helmeted man quietly slung down to the concrete-covered ground. After releasing the grapple’s hold, he continued after Penguin’s goon squad. He carefully peeked around a corner, took aim, and quickly threw a small robotic Batbug after them. He watched only long enough to see the tiny piece of technology successfully bounce and latch onto one of the goon’s shirt before ducking out of sight. Hood tapped the side of his helmet to turn on the listening device and stood still as voices flooded into his ear.

“-and like I was saying, Sal, some days it’s better and others it’s worse.” A woman’s tone was the first Hood could make out. “Just do what the bossman says, take your cut, and keep your head low. So long as you try to not break a lot of laws you’ll be fine.”

A younger man’s voice followed behind the woman’s, “I don’t know… The pay is good, yeah, but I’m not too keen on being someone’s punching bag.”

Hood could only presume this boy was Sal. While the man wasn’t one to put stock into guessing ages based only on the sound of their voice, Red Hood found it very difficult to even begin to think this kid was of legal age. It wasn’t that surprising, but it did make Hood’s heart ache and begin to feel a wash of rage ebb into his mind.

“Don’ listen ta ol’ Tracy, kid,” a third voice joined, this one with a thick Narrows accent. “Jus’ get the money ya need ‘n get out. Boss ain’t gonna fault ya for tha’.”

There was a small pause in the goons’ conversation and Hood took this opportunity to glance around the corner again. The five of them were further down, far enough where he could confidently follow within the shadows without being seen.

“... Thanks, Mark,” the kid’s small voice made the Pit Rage lingering in the back of Hood’s mind swell once again. Kids shouldn’t be joining the many villain gangs that lined Gotham’s streets so young. He knew it was hypocritical for the Red Hood, once most feared crime lord in Gotham to be saying, but he practiced what he preached. Kids that came to the Hood for help were given it, no questions asked. He did what he could to make sure no child in the Alley went cold or hungry. Red Hood protected his people.

The Penguin did not.

It was this knowledge, that Cobblepot was openly risking the safety of these children, that set Jason off. The leather protecting his hands creaked as he clenched his hands. He was shaking as he desperately fought to keep the rage from creeping into his vision, mentally warring with himself. Blue eyes blinked behind white lenses, still tracking the hazy figures through the toxic green fog swirling before him. 

He needed to keep following them. At a distance.

Jason honestly wasn’t sure if he could control himself if he got spotted and put into a confrontation.

Quickly grappling back onto the top of the many containers surrounding him, Red Hood continued to follow the people he was eavesdropping on. The five continued to chatter as they unknowingly led a temperamental vigilante straight to the heart of their operation.

Nightwing was keeping tabs on another group he had spotted, if the quiet commentary he was filling the comm line with was any indication. The group Nightwing was following was heading in the opposite direction of Red Hood - meaning that it was likely the older pair who had pulled the short straw of the night.

Which only caused Jason’s frustration to grow. The man really, really wanted to punch something now.

However, Jason was experienced enough in the art of “conceal don’t feel” to not let the raging emotions burning his inside explode outwards. He kept on task, easily keeping up with the small figures below him in an awkward half-crouch.

It was when the small group made it out of the corn-maze inspired cargo storage system that everything went right into the shitter. A massive, green-painted ship swayed gently in the tide, her mooring lines quietly creaking with the strain of keeping such a large vessel moored. Red Hood quickly attached his grapple to a parallel line of containers stacked in the direction Penguin’s goons were heading in. The near-silence of the night, however, did nothing to hide the shocked gasp as the feeling of absolute peace overcame Jason halfway through his leap to the other side.

The worn handle of his grapple gun slid out of Jason’s grasp as he plummeted to the quickly-approaching concrete. Luckily, the man was able to twist enough mid-air to land across his side. Unluckily, he landed directly behind the previously stalked squad of goons.

A quiet, “shit” was all Hood was able to say before the raggedy bunch turned to face him. The man quickly jumped to his feet, pulling out his dual pistols in the same movement. He did his best to try to compartmentalize the growing panic in his chest. Hood kept reaching for the giant void so often full of swirling rage and finding nothing.

He fired rapid shots at the scattered goons, striving to not shoot the smallest one. However, for all of Hood’s training, nothing could have prepared him for being in the middle of a firefight while actively seeking the very cause of all his problems.

Shooting a well-aimed bullet through a hispanic-looking man’s knee, Red Hood rolled behind a sun-bleached blue container. The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps made Hood whip around, coming face-to-face with another three of Penguin’s goons. He could also see two suspicious figures booking it down the ship’s gangway. Hood knew he could handle a fight like this, widening his stance and taking lazy aim at the hostile figures. His first shot went wide when a pulse of hope-settled-forgiven rushed through him, leaving Jason’s eyes useless and his legs shaky.

A bullet piercing through the body armor on his shoulder was barely enough to bring the man out of his head, leaving Jason to realize he was about to be surrounded if the feed from the Batbug was to be trusted. The distant phantom feeling of lounging in the sun, on his favorite chair in a giant, book-filled Wayne Manor library made Jason realize something was wrong. What should have been pain was only half-baked fuzzy feelings of warmth and comfort. It was enough to cause Jason to shoot wildly around himself, bringing a hand to clumsily tap on his helmet. When the man finally heard feedback from someone else’s com, he drunkenly slurred to whoever was listening.

“I-I need b’ck’p,” the hooded man said, firing a shot that went through a goon’s abdomen, “‘m drugged?” Jason couldn’t help but giggle as a smaller body got closer to him, turning his near-unresponsive body to slam the other into unforgiving concrete. An armored boot smashed the goon’s head against the ground. “Hemlo to ya’, too!” Jason laughed as the voices of his siblings flooded his ears.

Another burst of gooey happiness reverberated throughout the crime lord’s body, causing his vision to blackout again. He turned to see a woman with a gun pointed at him. She was the last one left, Jason blearily noticed, her friends’ broken bodies scattered across the ground around him. When did that happen? Jason doesn’t remember them playing, he thought with a frown. It was only when a black-clad individual backflipped into Jason’s narrowing view that he realized Dick had shown up at some point. 

“Big Bir’!” Jason cheered as his brother smoothly took down the last person playing. “Ya go�� ‘er!” His vision went dark again, but the feeling of something rapidly tapping his cheek brought the world back into focus.

“Hood, Hood can you hear me?”

Jason groaned in response, weakly pushing at his brother with heavy arms. “Shhhh,” he hissed, “‘m try’ng ta l’sten!”

Dick’s masked face, darkened with spots of speckled blood, danced with black spots around his vision, “Hood, what do you mean?” The older one asked.

Instead of responding, however, Jason’s body decided that talking was too much work. A peaceful feeling overtook him as he fell unconscious to the increasingly worried voice of his big brother, and a song of hope sung deep within his being.

( ुᴗᵨᴗ)ु.zZ

A/N: Hello! Please pardon any bad writing, it's been one hell of a hot second haha. Anyways - this has been an absolute labor of love from me. I've had this chapter finished since mid-February but a combination of my jobs, schooling, and a big editing block made it hella late. That being said, huge shoutout to my two betas @the-archer-goddess and Aerois! Legit could not have done it without you guys <3

Taglist: @vixen-uchiha @apointlessbox @mentalcarebear @asphyxia778 @horribly-lost-and-gay @may-rbi @blacksea21090 @kyrianclawraith (Hope I got everyone! If you want to be added to or taken off the taglist feel free to ask <3)

[lizavet]

@heropartnerweek - Day 2: Human AU | Crossover | Evolution

Tuft was very quickly beginning to understand why Entei was referred to as a Legendary Pokemon.

Panting hard with their heart beating at their ribs, Tuft sprinted as fast as they could, trying to outrun the enraged legend that chased after them. They had been so confident at the start. Even though Buizel had been broken and tossed aside like a ragdoll, Tuft was so sure that they and Poppy could take Entei on. They could do anything together!

Entei humbled them quickly.

Nothing Tuft threw at him seemed to work. Every burst of flames was consumed by Entei’s own roaring inferno. Every psychic beam and blast was avoided or batted aside. Tuft’s fangs and claws harmlessly bounced off Entei’s sturdy hide. Nothing they tried was working. Poppy was even worse off, with Entei acting as if her attacks weren’t even worth acknowledging.

And legends above, Entei was so powerful! When he fired off a Fire Blast at Poppy, Tuft stupidly jumped in the way, thinking they could take the hit, only to be violently thrown across the caldera by the force of the blast, smashing into the wall with a painful *CRACK, the tip of the fur on their flanked burned black from the intense heat, despite their typing. Poppy had screamed their name before turning on Entei herself, charging towards him recklessly, only for him to effortlessly dodge with an Extreme Speed, dashing behind her and releasing another Fire Blast at her point blank.

To their credit, the two managed to pick themselves back up quickly. They hadn’t spent so long training to go down so easily. But they couldn’t keep this up forever. Entei was both an unstoppable force and an immovable object, shrugging off everything the duo threw at him and retaliating with flames hot enough to replace the sun or blows strong enough to break mountains, barely giving the two any time to recover before continuing his assault.

Tuft skidded on their paws as they made a sharp turn around a boulder, trying to throw Entei off their tail, hoping to put some distance between them. They thought that it worked for a moment before a shadow passed over them, Entei’s form blurred by his Extreme Speed, his jaw open revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth moving to Tuft’s neck, only to be intercepted by Poppy smashing her fist into his lower jaw, the force and his speed sending him flying off to the left.

Entei shook his head and recovered, releasing a pair of Fire Blasts, forcing Tuft and Poppy to dodge in opposite directions, separating them again. Tuft stumbled on their paws, exhausted from the battle, unable to recover from their dodge in time to see Entei smash his front paws into the ground, a line of rocks ripping out of the stone in a line straight towards Tuft. The Stone Edge smashed into their stomach, ripping the air from their lungs and sending them flying upward, only to fall and crash back into the ground, the stone cratering beneath them.

“TUFT!” Poppy screamed, before turning her attention to Entei, her face twisted in anger. She launched herself at him, fist reared back and glowing with energy. Tuft tried to push themself up, opened their mouth to scream and tell her to stop, but their voice wouldn’t work and their limbs couldn’t lift them. They watched helplessly as Poppy threw herself at Entei recklessly again, her flurry of attacks whiffing past Entei as he weaved from side to side before flames erupted from his mouth and he clamped his jaws down on Poppy’s midsection, lifting her up and shaking her wildly before tossing her aside.

Silence descended upon the battlefield as Poppy hit the ground, bouncing a few extra feet away, Tuft barely able to hear the bubbling magma over their heartbeat, the violent *THUMP THUMP THUMP drowning everything else out as they stared at Poppy, covered in bruises and burns. She pressed her arms into the ground, her entire body shuddering with effort as they tried to push herself up, only to fall on her face, kicking up a small cloud of dust.

‘Get up,” Tuft begged. ‘Please, get up!’

“Pathetic.”

Entei’s booming voice demanded Tuft’s attention, forcing their exhausted eyes to lazily move over to the beast, seeing him staring down at them impassively, barely a scratch on him. He looked between Poppy and Tuft with an almost bored expression, as if they were barely worth the effort he put in.

“Is this truly the best you can manage?” he asked condescendingly. “You dare to intrude upon my domain, despite my warnings, and yet you cannot even manage to scrape together the power it takes to be worth my time?” His impassive face twisted into a snarl as he spoke. “So be it.”

He took one last look between the two of them before making his decision, taking slow, decisive steps towards Poppy. Tuft felt their body go cold as Entei casually strode towards Poppy, who was still struggling and fighting to get back up, eyes screwed closed and body shaking. ‘No. No no no. No no no no no no no!’

Entei stopped as his shadow loomed over Poppy. “You,” he declared. “You shall be first.”

‘No, not her!’ Tuft tried to scream. ‘Take me. Take Buizel. I don’t care, anyone but her!’ A stab of guilt ripped through Tuft’s heart at the thought, but they couldn’t find it in themself to care. They couldn’t lose Poppy. It would destroy them.

Entei raised one massive paw, positioning it over Poppy’s head.

‘Please.’

A spark of warmth ignited in Tuft’s chest.

‘Please.’

Entei’s claws extended, body tensing as he prepared for the kill.

‘Please.’

“Goodbye.”

‘Let me save her!’

*THUMP THUMP

Entei’s paw stopped mid-swing, his eyes narrowed. He looked around the caldera, carefully scanning the terrain.

*THUMP THUMP

“What is this?” he demanded.

Tuft barely heard his voice. Without realising it, they had risen to their feet, the warmth in their chest growing brighter and brighter. It took them a second to realize that their scarf had started glowing, iridescent light coating the fabric, flooding the caldera in a rainbow of colour. The sound of a steady heartbeat filled the air, Tuft somehow knowing it wasn’t theirs.

*THUMP THUMP

Poppy slowly rose to her feet, her matching scarf igniting in rainbow light, forcing Entei to shield his eyes and stumble back a couple feet. Hope filled Tuft’s heart seeing her get back up, broken and bruised, but still standing.

‘I’m not going down. Not like this.’

They could never explain it, but Tuft knew that wasn’t their thought. It was Poppy’s, her voice finding its way to Tuft. Their scarves thrummed with power, the beating of the unknown heart in time with their own.

‘I have to save her.’

‘I won’t abandon them.’

‘We aren’t going to lose!’

Sheer white light flooded Tuft’s vision as their body ignited in pain. Their tiny body burned with power, a fire burning through their veins. Their limbs began to warp, flesh bubbling and stretching, before expanding all at once, their bones snapping into place. Tuft instinctually pushed up on their front paws, moving to stand on two feet as their front paws morphed into hands. The fur around their waist expanded outwards in a flurry, turning into a crimson skirt, the fur on their new arms moving to match and form the sleeves of a dress. The tufts of fur in their ears billowed out, flowing in the wind like flickering flames, their tail flowed behind them gracefully in a way it hadn’t before.

As the light faded away, Tuft opened their eyes to see Entei standing, his eyes blown wide in shock and awe, and to their surprise, he didn’t seem quite as tall as he was before. Tuft looked down at their body, seeing their new form. Gone with the little fennekin from Serene Village, the little kid that was never good enough for anyone except one strange girl.

Instead, Tuft the Delphox stood tall, their body thrumming with power.

“Oh hell yes,” Tuft heard Poppy say, a grin in her voice. “This is what I’m talking about!”

Tuft looked over at Poppy, feeling their heart skip a beat. Just like them, she had evolved, a towering sceptile where she once stood. Her hoodie had grown with her, the hem of it resting against her massive tail that reminded Tuft of a strong pine tree. Poppy was looking down at her arms with a sadistic smile, clenching her fists and watching as the new blades attached to her wrist expanded and shrank as she did. Tuft couldn’t help but think about how amazing she looked, the soft features of a treecko that never seemed to fit Poppy replaced with sharp cuts and edges that suited her perfectly.

“Woah,” Tuft breathed, grinning wide as they drank in every facet of Poppy’s new form, bringing her attention over to them. “You look awesome!”

Poppy didn’t say anything for a moment, her eyes raking up and down Tuft’s body. “You’re not lookin’ too bad yourself,” she eventually said, something strange that Tuft couldn’t place in her tone.

A powerful stomp dragged their attention away from each other and back to Entei who still towered over them. He glared at the two with the same disdain, but also with a new bit of caution. He was afraid of them.

Good.

“…I don’t know what form of magic this is,” he growled, “But it matters not!” He let out a mighty roar, flames erupting around him. Tuft didn’t even flinch, any fear they once had gone. “I am not one to fall to pathetic mortals like you.”

Tuft sucked in a breath, knowing that was the wrong thing for him to say, which was confirmed when she glanced over to see Poppy seething, the razor-sharp blades on her wrist glowing bright and extending into the size of swords. Determined not to let her have all the fun, Tuft took a commanding step forward, striking a pose.

“We aren’t just some random mortals!” they declared, holding their fist in the air. “We’re Team Braveheart! Explorers of the world, protectors of the weak!”

Poppy rolled her eyes, though the grin on her face told Tuft they were enjoying this. She cracked her knuckles, giving Entei a smirk. “And we excel at taking down arrogant ‘mons that a due a beatdown.”

Entei snarled in response, his body tensing. “Enough of this!” he roared. “I grow tired of this pointless prattling!” Stone cracking beneath his paws, he launched himself forward towards Poppy. She took up a battle stance to counter, but Tuft was at her side in an instant, stepping in front of her and throwing a hand out, palm forward, feeling power at their fingertips like never before.

The sound of snapping and crackling pops filled the air as fireworks danced between their fingers for a moment, before *BOOOOM, a massive explosion of Mystical Fire burst from their palm.

The force of the explosion threw Entei back, the beat flying through the air before impacting on the ground, skidding against the stone. He recovered quickly, shaking himself off, a brief look of surprise on his face that quickly faded into anger. Tuft only grinned wider, feeling the fire in their veins just begging to be let out. ‘Oh I could get used to this!’ they thought.

With that, the fight was back on in full. Entei roared and prepared to charge again, but Poppy launched herself forward first with a pair of Leaf Blades, spinning slashes left and right, forcing Entei to jump back, dodging and weaving. Tuft snapped their fingers, firing off a Psybeam that impacted on his temple, sending him cross-eyed for a moment, just enough for Poppy to close the gap and slash his face once, twice, three times before she was sent back by a blast of flames. She flipped through the air, easily landing on her feet, brushing herself off, almost completely unscathed.

Slamming his front paws into the ground, Entei summoned up another Stone Edge, boulders ripping through the earth towards Tuft which they only grinned at. Holding their paws out, they grasped the stones with psychic energy that flowed from them far too easily, stopping them in place. But apparently that was only a distraction, because Entei shot past them towards Poppy, wreathed in flames.

Tuft called out to her, but Poppy didn’t move, taking the attack head on, letting Entei impact her chest, leaving a massive burn across her red belly. Tuft could see the anger in Poppy’s eyes as she grabbed Entei by the fur around his neck, hefting him over her head and slamming him into the ground, following up by spinning and SLAMMING her tail into him, pressing him further into the stone, leaving a crater in her wake. Entei threw himself forward, trying to bite her, but Poppy deftly dodged and leapt backward, Tuft using the opening to lift the Stone Edge she was holding out of the ground and throwing it back at him. Entei’s eyes went wide for a moment before he exploded in flames, shattering the stones before they could impact, but still getting showered in shrapnel.

As the flames died down, Tuft saw Entei panting hard, his face covered in slash marks, his perfect hide finally showing signs of damage. She growled lowly at the two, incredulous anger in his eyes.

“This shouldn’t be possible,” he snarled. Poppy let out a scoff, crossing her arms and giving him a condescending grin.

“What’s wrong?” she asked snarkily. “Did you overestimate the strength of your type matchup against me?” Tuft delighted in how Entei’s face twisted in fury at that.

“Silence!” Entei bellowed, pillars of flame erupting around him. “I am above this! I do not have time to continue dealing with you mongrels. I’ll finish this quickly.”

Poppy glared at Entei, but Tuft couldn’t help but continue smiling. They were enjoying this. The power at their palms, the rush of adrenaline, the roaring in their ears. They finally understood why Poppy loved fighting so much. Did she always feel this powerful? Tuft spent so long thinking they were holding her back, but now they could keep up! They could fight as her equal. And legends above did it feel good!

“You’re right,” Tuft said, rolling their shoulders and walking over to Poppy’s side. “It’s time we finish this.” Their eyes quickly scanned the battlefield, seeing broken stones and debris littering the floor of the caldera. A spark went off in their mind as they as an idea popped in. “Psst,” they whispered, nudging Poppy’s shoulder. “Buy me some time?”

Poppy gave Tuft a look for a moment before giving them a wolfish grin after finding what she was looking for, before charging at Entei. The two lock into battle, slashes of blades and claw, volcanic infernos and draconic flames scorching through the air. Entei blurred with Extreme Speed, but Poppy was unphased, catching him with a Protect and SMACKING him in the face with a Drain Punch.

As the two clashed, Tuft took a few steps back, letting themself fade into the background and gathering their energy, feeling their fur stand on edge and their ears lift up. Psychic power danced through the air, a thin layer spreading outward across the ground, slowly lifting up every little bit of rock and stone that it touched, before flinging them up into the air.

The sky slowly started to darken as Tuft sent more and more debris up into the air, straining at the effort of holding it all up in the air. Once they started feeling themself reach their limit, they opened their eyes and grit their teeth. “Poppy!” they yelled.

She immediately gave them a nod, ducking under Entei launching himself at her with a Flame Charge and twisting around, wreathing her tail in draconic purple energy and sending him flying with a Dragon Tail. Entei forced himself to his feet again and took a step forward, but Tuft lifted a finger, tutting and shaking it.

“Last chance to back down,” they said.

Entei snarled in response, narrowing his eyes at them. “I refuse.”

“Wrong answer. You really should reconsider.” Entei laughed, shaking his head with a twisted grin on his face.

“A pointless bluff,” he scoffed. “I see through your tricks. You think you can intimidate me into backing down? I know weakness when I see it.”

Tuft only grinned. “Oh well,” they shrugged. “I gave you a choice. But what happens next is up to you.” They paused for a moment, letting their words sink in before impatience got to them. “Up to you,” they repeated. “Up to you…. I said up-”

“I heard you,” Entei roared. “What gibberish are you-”

Realization washed over him as he finally noticed the shadows on the ground, making him look up. Tuft relished in the fear in his eyes as he finally saw the thousands of stones that floated through the air, the sky blotted out by Tuft’s own personal asteroid field.

“Bye-bye!”

Tuft snapped their fingers, and at their command every stone stilled for a moment before firing off like a gatling gun, hurtling towards Entei. His form immediately blurred as he launched himself into an Extreme Speed to escape. But the barrage covered the entire arena, stone impacting every inch of the caldera except for where Poppy and Tuft stood, courtesy of a Protect dome that Poppy had put around them.

A thick cloud of dust exploded out, making it impossible to see anything behind the blurred barrier that surrounded them. A cacophony of shattering stones and pained roars filled the air, forcing Tuft to cover their sensitive ears. A minute of agonizing screaming passed before Tuft’s attack ended. Poppy held the barrier up for a few more moments, just to make sure, before finally dropping it, the cloud of dust gently floating into their space.

Tuft gathered up a bit of psychic energy in their palms, sending out a weak shockwave to push the fog away, revealing the broken battlefield, the ground covered in tiny bits of stone and littered with craters from their fight. And in one lay Entei, his body covered in burns, bruises, and slashes. His chest heaved with strained breaths, his eyes closed.

He was down.

Tuft could see Poppy hold her fist out from the corner of their eye. They eagerly bumped their own fist into it, before the two drew them back, making explosion faux-explosions sounds and wiggling their fingers and laughing together.

A moment later though, Tuft felt the energy draining from their body, white light taking over their vision once again, this time much less intense. Time seems to blur and stretch, and the next thing they know, they’re back on four paws again, a fennekin once more. They looked over at Poppy to see she was a treecko again too, her looking down at her hands with an annoyed glare.

Tuft couldn’t help but mirror Poppy’s disappointment, but at the same time excited. They had never felt more powerful, more confident, more sure of themself than they did as a delphox. If that was what they were going to be like in the future… then they couldn’t wait!

They had something new to look forward to.

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

(Brief description of our duo can be found here)

Stories from this week: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

[steel--fairy]

drabble -- soulmate au part 10

ao3! yippee!! i didnt realize i had more written!

Wallace dominated the conversation, but Steven didn’t mind. He listened intently to the other man’s words. He clearly knew his city well, pointing out each notable landmark, telling Steven its history and several fun facts before moving onto the next. It didn’t stop at famous landmarks either—Wallace seemed to know every nook and cranny of the city, having some story or anecdote about even the plainest of locations they passed.

After the initial release of the magazine, Steven had searched Wallace up online. Despite his insistence that things happen at their own speed, he wanted to know more about the man who was his supposed soulmate. Every interview painted Wallace as a charming, charismatic speaker who always knew exactly what to say, but it was different to be on the receiving end of it in real life. To be the only one given a sly grin and a wink as Wallace finished a story about how he met some person at some diner and did something.

Steven looked away, feeling his cheeks heat up. This was far too much attention to be lavished on one person.

Slowly, Wallace led them up and away from the main city streets. The lowest level of Sootopolis was the oldest and, nowadays, the most tourist filled. They left behind chic cafes and sprawling museums for a more residential area. Gardens littered the roofs of the buildings here, growing food instead of decorative flowers.

Wallace weaved between two indistinguishable houses and suddenly they were in front of a dark opening. For the first time, Steven pulled ahead of Wallace, ever eager to see a new cave.

“What’s this? I wouldn’t think there would be any sort of cave or tunnel-like structures in Sootopolis. The foundation of the crater wouldn’t be able to support many—”

Wallace laughed, breaking Steven out of his focused reverie.

“Oh, sorry—”

“Don’t apologize.” Wallace waved him off with a smile. There was a strange gleam in his eyes. “You’re mostly right. There aren’t many of these tunnels. They were created back when Sootopolis was first settled, before they realized what a poor idea it was to go digging so low in the foundation.”

“Fascinating.” Steven turned to stare at the dark cave. “I assume this is where you meant when you said you knew a place that possibly held Moon Stones.”

“Mhm.”

Steven rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. He wanted to dash away and go caving, but he didn’t want to be rude to Wallace.

Another laugh erupted from Wallace. “Oh, go ahead, already! I can see you tugging at your leash.” Steven didn’t need more encouragement. With a smile and thank you, he left the hot Hoennian sun for the cool shade of the tunnel.

[cobaltruff-blues]

[File: It's a video. its title is simply the system assigning numbers to a file. Will you watch it?... excellent.]

[from this point the events occurring are non diegetic]

Mov_22-9-4-5-15_21-14-15_PRAZo

[now loading...]

Jack steps away from the Levincia airport, they take out his Rotom Phone and open the camera app, turning on the "selfie" camera, they look... tired and un-rested. Still, they walk to a less noisy part of the city and begin recording forcing a smile on their face, and yet it looks almost fully narural.

"Here we are in the city of Levincia! This is Jack Aranda starting his report on Paldean Shiny Pokémon and the Herba Mystica 'Sparkling Meal Power' capacity to attract encounters with Shiny Pokémon"

Jack pauses the recording and sighs, their tired face overcomes the smile, when was the last time they slept? ... some questions are better left unanswered. Moving to the center of the city, taking advantage of the currently empty arena, Jack takes out one of his pokéballs and quickly extends his hand into the sky.

"Use fly! ... please!"

The pokéball opens and blue energy is released into the air, the blue light swirls in the air and reconstructs into a charizard with a sparkling dark grey scale-coated skin, who immediately pulls Jack into its back and takes off.

"Towards the circular mountains, big guy, and be careful, it's a big fall from the crater's walls!"

Charcoal nodded and roared, its flame exploding into blue fire while speeding across Paldea, following wind currents to enter the crater with haste. Jack didn't miss the opportunity to keep recording as they flew through the skies of this region, from so high up you could almost see Kalos in the far far distance of the horizon, or maybe it was just a weird cloud formation.

"The Paldea region is blooming with a wonderful and wondrous energy known as Terastal Energy. It's been proposed by Professor Briar of the Blueberry Academy, as well as others before, that the bursts of Tera Energy has a direct impact on the flora and fauna of a region. The most noticeable one is the sparkling Pokémon found across Paldea!"

As if invoked by Jack's words, a small family of Dragonite dashed by on the current that Charcoal was riding. One of them had a glowing aura and almost crystalline skin, it was possible to see a reddish pink heart-shaped gemstone on its head.

"But what many don't immediately correlate is that the Phenomenon of Herba Mystica is, in essence, Floral, rather than Faunal, Teracrystalization. There are six currently known forms of Herba Mystica, five originate from Paldea; Spicy, Salty, Sour, Sweet, and Bitter H.M. One species was only discovered in the Blueberry Academy Terrarium!".

Jack murmurs to himself "though i doubt the Paldean authorities will ever be pleased by Briar's Terrarium Core replicating all of this over at BB." He clears his throat, and is about to continue when a Garchomp tackles Charcoal right as it flew around the ring of the crater. Jack and his Charizard fall towards the depths. Video 1 stops here.]

[comatosebunny09]

You've been putting off that oil change for far too long, sis.

You can't ignore that angry, red oil lamp leering at you from the dash much longer. So, you call a mom-and-pop shop to schedule an appointment for an oil change. And to your surprise, they have an opening right now!

Sure, you don't want to shell out the coins to keep your car running. Rather spend your money on booze, food, and whatever other oddities get you through the weekend. But you're an adult now. You've got 'sponsibilities. You want to trade that car in for a Mercedes someday.

Right?

You whip down the sunny highway, weaving through traffic. Pull up to the quaint repair shop you'd phoned earlier, still wearing your uniform and smelling like the struggle—it's inventory week. Lots of heavy lifting, sweating, and hating your life. 

It's surprisingly clean inside despite being low-key. Freshly painted, ivory walls. Glittering tile floors. Smells like bubblegum and lemon interweaved with motor oil. Warm and homely in contrast to the biting cold outside.

A neatly-arranged lobby sits on your left, two rows of chairs flanking the wall-mounted T.V., abuzz with the weather. Ceiling high windows permit sun rays to shine through. To your right is a marbled counter with a black top, unmanned, tidy stacks of paper, and intricately arranged business cards adorning it.

The door behind the counter is cracked open, a conglomerate of drilling, whirring, and shouting over heavy machinery pouring in. You ring the bell perched on the counter's edge to get serviced. Wait a few beats. Convinced no one will hear you over all the ruckus going on outside, you turn around to lean against the counter, thoroughly engrossed by your phone.

You don't notice when he sneaks in. Situational awareness has always been shit despite your profession. Hear him before you see him, his tone like static tearing into a quiet room. You flinch, spinning around to face the room's new occupant with squinted eyes.

"Good morning, Miss!" says this blond mountain of a man, throwing you off kilter. "How may I assist you?"

He's all teeth and sunshine, this guy. Towers a good foot over you. He wears sandy skin stretched over sharp features. Wiry, dark brows. Freckles stipple his nose. Dimples crater his cheeks. Wheat-colored hair bleeds into a deep crimson on his shoulders and frames his jaws. His face is smudged with what you assume is oil. But it does nothing to detract from how incredible he looks.

You can make out the virility of his body through the confines of his royal blue jumpsuit. Arms lean and bulging with veins pouring from his rolled-up sleeves. Homie clearly works out. He drums his thick fingers on the countertop. You gnaw on your lip, unconsciously imagining them wrapped around your throat...

Despite majoring in linguistics, you've suddenly forgotten how to speak. Mouth gaping like a fish. Eyes blinking rapidly. Your heart is pounding over time in your ears. You're scorching hot.

Breathe, girl.

Breathe.

When you've found your voice again, you clear your throat. Try to act all casual, like you didn't almost wet your panties. "I-I'm here for a nine-o-clock oil change."

"Ah!" he remarks as if you've unearthed the meaning of life. You resist snorting, watching this ball of electricity bounce around and fiddle with a clipboard. He passes it to you, grin never faltering, your nerves slowly draining away. "Please fill out all of the highlighted areas with your information!"

He's intense, sure. Like an ecstatic puppy waiting for its owner to toss a tennis ball. But he gives you good vibes. Smile is infectious. You can't help the ghost of one sliding past your lips as you grab a pen. Feel heat pervading your cheeks, and you glance down to jot down your info.

You slide the beach boy your documents and keys when you're done. He dangles them between you, chuckling at your choice of keychain. A gaudy, fuzzy, pink ball that's been through some things. You're suddenly self-conscious. A little more self-aware, with your hair sticking up at odd angles, your uniform coated with a film of dust, and the laces of your boots peeking out. Though, dude doesn't seem to notice or care.

He tells you to make yourself comfortable halfway out the door again. Motions to the coffee bar nestled beneath the T.V. Flashes you another thousand-watt smile. Says, "my name is Kyojuro, by the way," before going outside to bring your ride around back.

As you plop your weary bones into a chair in the lobby, you can't help wondering how someone that hot ended up working at a place like this.

But dammit, if you don't enjoy having something nice to look at while you wait.

Masterlist

[the-feral-one]

Peseta rode at speed towards the Blissey as the egg-shaped creature charged at them. Before it could reach them, they leapt off their surfboard and threw the Shadow Ball at full force. The attack landed, forcing the Blissey back.

"Great!" One student called out. "Now get down!"

After landing, Peseta turned towards the student who had spoken, then looked back to the Blissey...

...just in time to see it glow, before it exploded. Peseta was thrown back by the blast, and Clavell acted quickly to let his Skeledirge out to catch them.

"Uuugh..!" The shiny Gholdengo shook themselves and stood up. They fixed their specs the best they could and looked at what had happened. The explosion had left a crater where the Blissey once was, and there were assorted creature chunks scattered all around.

They turned to see Clavell, still showing a look of disgust.

"There's going to be more." Clavell said as his Skeledirge appeared beside him. Peseta's expression turned from disgust to concern.

"As much as I would appreciate your assistance, I also don't want to keep you away from any of your other duties. The choice is y.."

Before Clavell could finish, Peseta had quickly ran inside.

They dashed around the corner and almost fell over as they got into their room. Peseta stumbled to their desk and grabbed their Rotom Phone, and began to frantically press on the touchscreen.

In Kitakami...

The sound of the phone ringing had attracted the attention of a pink Furret. Kiki ran over to it as fast as he could and scrambled to pick it up. He didn't get to talk before Peseta did.

"Kiki!"

The Furret was a little surprised, but managed to respond.

"Never thought you'd be calling now! If you're gonna talk about the wedding, uh...there's been an issue.."

Peseta pushed their specs up a little.

"I was going to mention that Blisseys have been seen acting, let's say..."

"Odd? Or, let's say...a bit rrrrabid recently?" Kiki said, his words making Peseta look unimpressed. "Yeah, we have those here too. I haven't been facing them myself, but others here have, and, when they get beaten up, they--"

Both Kiki and Peseta heard an explosion, followed by a shout of "Arceus above! It's everywhere!"

Peseta, still unimpressed, managed to finish Kiki's sentence.

"They explode."

"Yeah..." Kiki responded, putting a hand on his hip. "They...they do that.."

"Listen, Kiki..!" Peseta began, making the pink Furret pay close attention to what was said next.

"Tell the ones who are battling them to keep them away from the wedding preparations, and to only take on the ones that they can mange to defeat."

Kiki almost interrupted Peseta with his next response.

"What if one comes out that has something we can't take on easily..?"

Peseta sighed. "Then I'll come over there to help sort things out. Until this issue is cleared up, do what you can to keep them away from the wedding preparations. Once it is over, you and the others there better be quick to clean up what is left behind. I hope you understand, Kiki."

Kiki nodded, then looked over his shoulder at the sound of another explosion. "We'll do our best to...do what you said, Peseta. No promises, though.."

The shiny Gholdengo ended the phone call and sat down, flopping onto the chair and sighing again. They pulled themselves back up and began to type on their laptop again.

"Wedding preparations...not finished yet... ...there are issues...needing to be sorted out...first.. ..only then...will invites be sent..."

They saved what they wrote before quickly closing their laptop and dashing out of the room. As they ran down the corridor and into the main lobby of the academy, they made their surfboard appear. Once outside, they dodged the various battles between students' mons and Blisseys and rode their board down to the streets below.

Peseta's expression got a little more determined as they exited Mesagoza and sped towards Grasswither.

"Hopefully they're not disappointed by what's happening..."

At Grasswither, Ogerpon and Pink stood outside the shrine with their weapons of choice. After Wo got to hear about the Blissey issue, he and his family were quick to get prepared.

Pink was the first to see Peseta speeding towards the shrine. She and Ogerpon started to shout in their direction, but soon happiness upon seeing them turned into alerts for Peseta to look behind them...

Peseta was then seen being lunged at by a huge mutated Blissey. It swiped at them, throwing them from their board and into the nearby bushes. Before they could get up, they were told to duck, as Pink and Ogerpon leapt over them and started attacking the mutated creature.

The two siblings managed to defeat the Blissey, but found that they couldn't get away from the following explosion.

As it happened, they braced...but soon found that they didn't need to, as Wo had appeared at the last minute to put up a Protect barrier.

"Papa Wo!" Ogerpon shouted out, grabbing the snail's attention. Wo-Chien lowered the Protect barrier and turned to face her. He showed her a cheery look.

Pink helped Peseta by pulling them up as Ogerpon hugged Wo. They gathered beside each other as the snail spoke.

"It's nice to see how well you can help to keep our shrine safe~ Spot is helping too, but from a different point than you two."

"Yeah, where is she?" Ogerpon asked. She was then made to look up as Wo pointed out where Spot was.

"All the way up there??"

Wo nodded. "That way, she can keep a look out for any of them that manage to try getting close to us."

"Wawa-wa-wa! ("Then we'll beat them up!") Pink stated, shouldering her hammer in a confident way.

"That you can do, but be sure to get away once they get defeated."

Peseta had been looking at them as they spoke. After waiting their turn, they found an opportunity to speak.

"Sorry for interrupting, but I have to talk to you and Oki. What is happening is obviously going to delay the wedding preparations."

"I understand." Wo responded. "Oki isn't here right now, but I shall tell him what you tell me here."

"Where is he at this moment? Peseta asked, looking a little unimpressed.

"He's at the Navi base. Team Star have put their student training programs on halt until the Blissey issue has been solved, and he is helping to drive them out of the base when they get spotted."

"I see.." Peseta began. They then looked at Ogerpon and Pink. "I need to talk with Wo inside for a moment. Keep yourselves at a safe distance if you need to battle with the Blisseys, alright?"

"Wa-wa!" ("We shall!")

"Sure thing, Auncle Peseta!"

Ogerpon and Pink ran off to look out from different points as Peseta entered Grasswither and continued to talk to Wo.

"So, when do you think the preparations shall be completed?"

"That's the issue.." Peseta said, finger to their chin. "I have no idea. I have never seen anything like this either, so dealing with this is most likely going to take a while to sort out..."

Another explosion from outside ends up making the ground shake a little. It gets followed by shouts of "We got another one!" and "Eeeww!"

Wo turns to see Peseta, holding his fighting stick. He looks at the doorway as he talks.

"Let's get this issue sorted out first before we do anything else." The snail says in a serious way. "We'll be as safe as we can here. You best be heading back to the academy."

Peseta produced their surfboard and stood at the doorway. They looked back at Wo.

"I'll let you know, Wo. I hope we can settle this sooner rather than later."

As Peseta left, Wo prepared himself before leaving the shrine and going to help Ogerpon and Pink to defend it.

--

(TBC again!)

[wyrdle]

An AI Clavell + AI Arven AU i’ve been musing, but will probably never draw to its fullest. Snippets under the cut:

CW: character death, grief, poor mental health, suicide (OG Clavell’s)

Summary: A young Arven tragically dies from falling at the steep cliffs of Cabo Poco. With no reasons to stay at their new home, the Zerotrio stay holed up in Area Zero. Despite Clavell's initial hesitance of the project, and even desire to leave the place post tera orb project... Being above ground hurts/reminds them all but especially Clavell of what could have been.

So. The three profs dive into their research, it's still focused on bringing Pokemon over, but there is a hint of a hidden hope that they could find and save Arven. ( It's a fool's dream, they know, what with the complications that would follow... but they hope regardless.) Area Zero becomes both a  prison and sanctuary for all of them... though it's probably the worst for Clavell. Eventually, the respective Miraidon and Koraidon’s kill Sada and Turo, and Clavell is left all alone in his self imposed prison.

He eventually makes AI versions of himself, and even AI Arven (no memories, just an approximation). Imagine: Young Arven’s haunting laughter throughout Area Zero, since it’s his playground. AI Turo and Sada are harder to finish, and OG Clavell eventually succumbs to his grief via suicide. Survived by him is his AI, and of course, the time machine that needs to be stopped. PPP is a manifestation of a grieving professor Clavell, not fuelled by personal ambition, only desperation to have his family back.

Additional dialogue bits of AI Clavell I wrote:

AI Clavell: " The professor... was not always like this. He once wanted to leave the crater to live out the rest of his life. He had wanted to be a part of the academy even, with the dreamy goal of becoming director."

AI Clavell: "I think the professor would have much preferred to live with Arven away from the crater... had the boy..." AI Clavell pauses, as if to collect himself. "... had the boy not died."

AI Clavell: "Although I am not the professor, and that is not his son, he is as dear to me as he was to the grieving professors. "

AI Clavell: "Arven's death made leaving the crater hard, and I think... being in isolation with professors Sada and Turo affected his judgement. After witnessing their deaths firsthand... ruined his heart."

AI Clavell: "Now I carry with me the professor's memories, and boundless love for the rest of Paldea's people and Pokemon. I cannot comprehend the intricacies of human guilt and emotion, but had the professor not been consumed by his grief and trauma... I do not think he would want the time machine to destroy Paldea's ecosystems."

AI Clavell: "It is your right, of course, to judge him and cement that as your opinion of him. But please understand, Professor Clavell was ultimately a kind man... trapped first by his grief for Arven, then his love for his dearest friends. Area Zero is as much a prison for me as it was for him."

AI Clavell: "I sincerely hope you will assist me in destroying the time machine... and allow the original Professor Clavell to rest in peace. Please... for Arven's sake and the Professor's late memory, defeat me."

PPP CLAVELL: I 4m s0 cl05e t0.... t0... brinGIng them b4ck.. y-y0u wi11 n0t st4nd in my w4y!

PPP Clavell upon defeat: I 0nly ever w4nted them b4ck... whY is p4r4dise s0 cl0se yet s0 f4r? The AI w4nt5 to le4ve thi5 pl4ce, but we c4nnot, I- c4nnot, I mu5t n0t.

“I ju5t w4nted- my friend5- my f4mi1y- b4ck. H-help me- “

Slowly, the AI professor crumpled to the floor, knees hitting the obsidian tiles with an anticlimatic thud. The small robot boy who had been hiding by Nemona's side let go of her hand, dashing forward to tackle the now powerless protection protocol in a hug.

"4rven-" it manages to sob, mimicking shallow breaths and shedding crystalline flecks till its light blue eyes were restored.

-----

I have some other stray notes about how Paldea’s very different in this au too, but eh. This isn’t going anywhere besides my vivid imagination haha

[lavendarlily]

happy ectober!! i'm so excited to share my first piece of public writing with this silly story.

ectober day 2: technomancy @ectoberhaunt

thank you @redactedgoose for all the fabulous feedback and guidance on this <3

operation pookie

words: 4979

read it on AO3

a ghost attack in the park leaves Dash feeling like his world is crumbling, and there's only one person who can help him.

Dash sat on the curb outside the park, still trying to process the previous events. Everything was fine an hour ago. He was tossing a disc for his dog just like any other time he’d taken Pookie out for some playtime. They even had a playdate scheduled next Saturday with the dachshund that lived down the street.  

He kicked at the gravel beneath his feet, shoulders slumped, streaks from dried tears marring his face. How could Dash fix this? He was just a seventeen year-old kid. There was no way he could stand up to an established (albeit corrupt) government organization.

He stood and turned, eyeing the remnants of the disaster in the park. Trees stood bent over and split and large craters decorated the once pristine grass. What he didn’t expect to see was a glowing figure carefully zipping around the scene of the crime. A sense of hope returned to Dash once he spotted his hero. If anyone knew what to do, it was Phantom. Dash sprinted over, yelling to get his attention.

“Phantom! Hey! Phantom!”

The ghostly hero flashed out of sight. 

“Phantom, please,” Dash’s words trailed off as his speed slowed to a stop, then collapsed on the ground with his head in his hands. “Phantom, please, please, please,” he muttered, mostly to himself. 

“Are-are you okay?” He heard a tinny, echoing voice ask. Dash peered through his fingers and saw before him the elusive Phantom, head cocked and eyes swirling with concern as he faced Dash.

Dash jumped up, the quick movement causing Phantom to back away. 

“Wait!” He cried, then realized he needed to calm down or risk causing the ghost to disappear again. “Wait. I-I need your help Phantom. You’re the only one who can help me.”

Phantom said nothing, but didn’t leave either, which Dash took as a good sign. He motioned to the park before them - or what was left of it. What wasn’t destroyed was covered in green goo that the Ghost Investigation Ward had failed to clean.

“There was a ghost attack. The GIW came quicker than I’d ever seen them. They-they nuked it or something. It exploded and it contaminated the whole park. There weren’t many people around, but-but the green stuff, Pookie got into it. They took my dog away and I don’t know what they’re gonna do to him. Please. I need to get him back.” 

Phantom stared, making Dash feel self-conscious, a feeling that was mostly foreign him these days. He felt pathetic, sobbing in front of his hero, literally begging him for help, as if his problems matched up to those of Phantom. 

“They got your dog?” Phantom asked. Dash nodded slowly. 

“I’m really sorry. That’s…hard,” the ghost said. He brought a gloved hand to his chin. “I think I remember where their closest headquarters are. I’m not sure if I can break through their anti-ghost defenses, but it’s worth checking out.”

Dash perked up. “Does that mean you can help me?” 

“To the best of my ability, but I can’t promise anything,” Phantom said cautiously. “These guys have serious anti-ghost tech.”

“I’ll come with you!” Dash blurted before he could really think about what he was offering.

Instead of laughing at Dash’s dumb bravery, Phantom smiled reassuringly. “Thank you, but I have people who know a lot about this stuff. Your dog will be in good hands.”

“Right - Pookie’s my dog. I want to come,” Dash said firmly, surprising even himself for talking like that to Phantom. He took a deep breath, then added, “We’ve worked together in the past. I can do this. Please.”

The ghost stared him down. Dash felt like Phantom was piercing straight through to his soul, analyzing every fear and flaw, and although Dash felt the need to tag along, he hoped he didn’t give his underlying apprehension away. 

Phantom then let out a dramatic sigh. 

“I suppose you’re right.” He held out a hand to Dash. “Let’s go.”

Elated and anxious, Dash grabbed the hero’s hand and was hoisted into the air. Of course Dash had seen how Phantom held his own in battle, but he was still surprised by the seemingly effortless way the ghostly teen was able to carry him as though Dash- a 6 foot 3, 220 pound athlete- weighed nothing. Though he was shy to admit it, the sudden increase in elevation was a bit…much for Dash, not to mention the incredible speed at which they seemed to be traveling. The blur of buildings and roads below made Dash a little queasy, but he would rather throw his championship rings into the ocean than throw up on his hero. 

The view below, or what Dash was able to process of it, changed from a cityscape to rolling hills and small forests. Just as Dash was about to doubt Phantom’s hunch, he felt the ghost stiffen, and began descending towards a wooded area. He placed Dash down carefully, which didn’t go unappreciated. Dash was going to need a moment. 

“I can feel the ghost shield. It’s about a quarter mile ahead,” Phantom said, not seeming to notice Dash hunched over behind him. “I can’t enter with that thing functioning.” 

He began walking towards where the building was supposed to be, and glanced back at Dash. “Stay close and stay hidden,” he ordered. 

They eventually came upon a stark white, single level building. The two crouched behind some bushes and took in their surroundings. Dash could see the ghost shield in place, as Phantom had predicted, but the entrance was unguarded otherwise. 

“I’m going to get a closer look. Stay here,” Phantom whispered, then disappeared from sight before Dash could protest. A minute passed, then two, leaving Dash feeling vulnerable and unsettled. A moment later, he noticed a soft glow coming from the foliage to the left. Phantom slowly emerged and waved Dash over.

“I found the control panel for the shield, up there on the roof.” Phantom pointed upwards, and Dash could see a small metal box expelling the anti-ghost matter. “If we can figure out how to deactivate it, I can phase us into the building.”

Dash held up a rock. “Will this work?”

“No offense, but I don’t think-”

Dash threw the rock.

Thank god for all his years of football, because his aim was perfect. The rock smashed the control panel and the shield fell.

“Wow. I can’t believe that worked,” Phantom said, almost sounding impressed. “Now let’s go before they realize it’s down!”

Phantom grabbed Dash’s wrist and a cold feeling washed over him. He held back a yelp as he realized he could see straight through where his body was supposed to be. Immediately he was flying forward towards the front doors, and Dash braced for impact in three, two…

One never came. He opened his eyes and found himself floating behind closed double doors. Ahead was a long, stark white hallway with doors leading all the way down on both sides. 

“Okay, this might take some time before we find your dog,” whispered Phantom. “Just hold on.” 

They flew through the first door to the right of them, which was just a simple office including a desk, computer, chairs, and a bookshelf - nothing you wouldn’t expect in a typical workplace, and nothing nefarious to be seen. 

This was going to require some time, which wasn’t necessarily on their side.

They floated through the wall and into the adjacent room. This one looked like an interrogation room. It was split in half by a one-way window. Looking past it was a steel table, but instead of chairs and cuffs linked to the tabletop, metal clamps were soldered in as if to hold the subject down. Dash felt Phantom’s body vibrate in dissatisfaction before they continued. 

Phantom led them through the remaining rooms in the hall, but they were all dead ends. A metal door led to another hall, which Phantom attempted to phase through, but the two bounced back when they made contact instead of seamlessly passing. 

“Crap. Must be made with ectoranium,” Phantom grumbled. 

“Can I just open it?” Dash asked. 

“No, look. It’s locked with a keycard. We’ll have to wait until someone opens it.” Sure enough, a computer system was mounted on the wall next to the door.

Dash’s heart picked up. “We can’t just sit here! Who knows what kind of sick things they’re doing to Pookie!” He cried, voice trembling. 

“Keep it down,” was Phantom’s response. “Let me think.”

They floated in silence for a moment, all the while Dash’s anxiety was increasing. Phantom drifted over towards the keycard entry, and though Dash couldn’t quite see him, he could guess the ghost was examining it. 

“I’m going to put you down for a second. Don’t touch me until I say it’s safe,” he ordered.

Dash felt the cold sensation leave his body as he became a solid mass of boy once again, his feet planted firmly on the tiled floor. He stood with his back to the door, keeping an eye out for anyone coming down the hall.

Dash felt the hair on his neck stand up and turned back to the door. He watched a spark of lightning dance across the keycard reader, but instead of frying the system, it beeped a confirmation and the door slid open. Simultaneously, Phantom reappeared and dropped to the floor, clutching his stomach. Dash ran to his side.

“Hey, Phantom, I know you’re not doing too hot, but we gotta keep going before someone sees us,” Dash whispered, tugging the ghost up. Meanwhile, Dash’s mind was racing. He’d never seen the ghost kid use a power like that before, and it didn’t seem to follow the unnatural laws of the spectral world. But these were thoughts for another time.

“I’ll be- just give me a second. I’ll be good in a second,” Phantom muttered. Dash grunted and threw the other boy’s arm around his neck and carried him through the doorway. To the left was, luckily, a restroom, and Dash rushed them inside.

Once they were safe, Dash lifted Phantom onto the counter so he could slump against the mirror. 

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The bathroom was silent while Dash let Phantom recover from whatever he’d just done. He didn’t want to rush him, but Dash could feel time running out. Pookie needed him.

As if he could sense Dash’s thoughts, Phantom grumbled and shimmied off the counter. Dash could tell his eyes looked a bit brighter than they had a moment ago, and the glow surrounding him was stronger. 

Phantom gave Dash a nod and held out his hand. “Let’s go get him.”

Dash took a deep breath and allowed the sensation to overtake him again. It wasn’t so bad now that he knew what to expect. In fact, it was rather welcome compared to the fear of being seen he’d briefly experienced while Phantom opened the doors. 

They zigzagged through the hall as they’d done previously, still to no avail. About halfway through, Phantom stopped.

“I hear something,” he said.

Dash silently waited for him to continue. When Phantom didn’t elaborate or move, Dash spoke up.

“What is it?”

“Shhh! I’m trying to listen! There’s voices.”

“What are they saying?”

“I can’t tell if you keep talking.” 

Phantom’s tone shut Dash up. 

Soon they were moving again, quicker this time. They flew into an empty room, and to Dash’s surprise, Phantom placed Dash down and dropped his own intangibility. 

Phantom looked Dash dead in the eye and almost growled, “Stay. Here. I’ll be right back.”

The ghost flashed out of sight, leaving Dash in what looked to be another standard office layout. He sat down in a chair and nervously tapped his leg. Surely, something was wrong, if Phantom was acting like that. 

His mind drifted. How many times had this happened to other people? How many beloved pets or even people had the GIW taken in? What kind of twisted things even occurred in this building that remained unknown to the public?

Dash felt sick.

He wasn’t sure how long Phantom had been gone, but it felt too long nonetheless. His eyes drifted across the unimpressive room. Nothing stood out - it lacked any kind of personalization or sign of use. There wasn’t even a book case for Dash to turn to to distract himself… although, the type of content the GIW would have would probably have the opposite of a calming effect.

“Dash, it’s me,” a disembodied voice whispered, then Phantom reappeared in front of Dash. If he’d found anything, his face didn’t give it away.

“I found Pookie-”

Dash shot up and grabbed Phantom. “Ok, let’s go then! Get us out of here!”

Phantom reeled back and pulled his hand out of Dash’s grasp, eyes glowing. “Wait! We need a plan.” He shook his wrist out. “And don’t ever grab me like that again.”

Dash’s face burned, immediately embarrassed. But he couldn’t help it - the stakes were high. Phantom must’ve also noticed the way Dash shrunk back, because he added, “I know this is important to you. Which is why we need to do this right, okay?”

Dash nodded, then sat back down.

“Like I was saying, I found your dog. And he’s okay. But, there are agents in there with him, and I could sense a lot of tech in that room designed to keep anything with spectral energy from coming in or out. I couldn’t even listen in too long before risking setting off a sensor.”

While the news of Pookie being alright was music to Dash’s ears, the security measures Phantom warned of filled him with dread.

“So what do we do?” Dash asked softly.

“Lucky for us, these guys are kinda idiots. All this tech is linked to the same power source. The panel is located in a control room next to the lab where they are. If we can disable that, our only problem should be the agents.”

Dash recalled the strange keycard reader. “What if the system is ghost-proof?”

Phantom turned away. “I can do it.”

“You don’t mean that trick you’ve been pulling that completely wipes you?”

Phantom flashed a glare at Dash, who promptly ignored it. 

“How’s that supposed to help us? Isn’t that still a ghost power or whatever?” He asked.

“Trust me. It’ll work.” The temperature fell as he spoke, sending a chill up Dash’s spine. 

Dash pursed his lips. Phantom hadn’t let him down thus far, and this weird power didn’t seem to conform to the normal rules. There was no reason not to trust him, other than the fact that Phantom seemed to be holding something back. 

“What’s the plan?”

-----

Phantom flew them towards the control room, which luckily lacked any ghost security measures. Off to a good start. 

The room was…intimidating. Various panels lined an entire wall, with glowing wires vibrating and connecting them together like bugs caught in a spiderweb. Dash, a human, could feel the energy being put out by this thing. He couldn’t imagine what it felt like to Phantom. 

Phantom stepped forwards towards the wall, and static filled the air. He gave a nod to Dash, who was more afraid than he’d ever been.

But Pookie needed him.

Lightning crackled in Phantom’s palms and he surged forward, making contact with the elaborate system. Dash stood in awe as the electricity spread across the wall, causing the tech to go haywire. He almost forgot he was supposed to be storming the lab.

“DASH! GO!” Phantom yelled, his voice strained.

Dash came back to reality and booked it to the hallway, just missing a different flash of light, one that signified the line between life and death.

He was immediately met with an agent emerging from the lab, on his way to check why all the equipment was malfunctioning. Adrenaline coursing through him, Dash hurled an uppercut at Pookie’s kidnapper and ran through the doorway to the lab, locking the door behind him. 

Two agents around a table looked up at his arrival. One held a needle in his hand that was directed towards the subject on the table.

The subject that was Pookie.

Dash surged forward, grabbed the needle from the agent, and kicked him in the groin. The strike sent him down. He turned to the other agent and thrust the needle into his neck, dispensing the mystery contents into the man. The skin began bubbling at the injection point and the affected agent bent over and began vomiting on the floor. 

The other agent had recovered from Dash’s assault at this point, and rose back to his feet, then lunged at Dash. 

Once again, Dash was grateful for his football experience that allowed him to quickly assess situations and think on his feet to overcome an opponent. He slammed into the agent and threw him towards the table. He spotted metal restraints welded onto the surface and grabbed the agent’s wrist, clasping the restraint around him. 

Pookie bit the man’s hand as an extra measure.

Dash’s heart swelled at the sight of his dog before him. A gentle wag of his tail relayed Pookie’s relief at the sight of his owner. He seemed unharmed, although reasonably afraid. Dash grabbed his precious cargo and turned towards the door.

Where was Phantom? 

The ghost was supposed to meet Dash in here after the anti-ghost security measures were down. With Pookie under his arm, Dash ran out of the lab and towards the control room where he’d left Phantom.

What he found was deeply unnerving.

The agent that Dash had initially run into had Phantom immobilized in anti-spectral handcuffs. He was slumped forward, with a nasty looking gash across his left cheek. Before Dash could react, Pookie lunged forward at the man, and sunk his teeth into the agent’s ankle. The man gasped out in surprise and began aggressively shaking his leg in an attempt to get the dog off of him. While he was distracted, Dash grabbed him by the neck and rushed him into the wall headfirst, promptly knocking the agent out.  

Satisfied with his work, Dash turned to Phantom, kneeling next to him. He shook the ghost boy, eliciting a weak groan. Realizing he was still cuffed, Dash searched the agent’s suit for the keys. Succeeding in this, Dash proceeded to free Phantom, and closed eyes became half-lidded as Phantom struggled to meet Dash’s face.

“We need to get out of here, dude. Can you pull it together?” Dash asked urgently. 

Phantom slowly peeled himself off the floor. “I can’t fly us out. Too weak.” 

He doesn’t even look like he can walk, Dash thought. It looked like it was his turn to carry the team (literally). He scooped up Pookie and held him out to Phantom, who took him in his arms with a confused expression. Without further explanation, Dash grabbed the ghost bridal style and simply started running. 

It seemed as though they hadn’t caused enough of a commotion to gain any attention, and with the front doors in sight, Dash thought they might actually make it out with no further obstacles.

Of course, he was wrong. 

A group of agents burst out of a room in front of them, heavily armed. They must have been alerted after all and were on their way to check out the disturbance in the lab. Instead, they caught sight of Dash running off with their hostage and Public Ghost Enemy #1. 

Weapons at the ready, they formed a wall blocking their only escape route. Dash slowed down, unsure of what to do.

“Stop right there, kid. Surrender the ghosts and you can leave with no questions asked.”

Fury filled Dash’s veins. They’d come so close, and he was not about to let them put their hands on his dog. Never again. 

“Wait,” Phantom whispered, stopping Dash from whatever stupid thing he was about to do. “Put me down.”

“Phantom-”

“Put me down, Dash.”

Reluctantly, Dash released his hold on Phantom, who stood shakily in between him and the wall of agents. 

“Cover your ears,” he whispered. 

The cry that Phantom released was something that would be forever cemented in Dash’s mind. It echoed and pierced; it was filled with a kind of pain that Dash never knew existed until this moment. He watched the weapons fall to the floor, sparking out of control. The agents followed suit, covering their ears in an attempt to filter out the incredible wail destroying their eardrums. 

Phantom fell forward, and Dash acted on instinct. With Pookie under his arm, he somehow hoisted Phantom over his other shoulder and pushed through to finally escape out the front door. He didn’t stop running when the agents yelled after him. He didn’t stop running when his peripheral caught a bright flash of light from where he held Phantom. He didn’t stop running even when he thought his lungs were about to burst. 

Dash finally stopped when he found a covered area, thick enough to hide themselves from any agents who had managed to follow them out. He dropped his companions and allowed himself to fall onto his back, eyes closed, attempting to regain control of his heart rate. A soft weight made itself known on his chest, and Dash gently placed a hand on his pup.

For how long he laid there, Dash didn’t know. A soft groan reminded him that he was not alone, and oh my god was Phantom okay?

Dash’s eyes burst open and he sat up, gently removing Pookie from his chest. He looked to where he’d just laid Phantom, but something was wrong. A figure was on the ground, curled up with his back to Dash, right where Phantom should’ve been. And just as familiar as Dash was with the likes of Phantom, he knew this one equally well.

“Fenton?” He asked slowly, confusion fogging his brain. 

Dash stood, walked over to the body on the ground, and gently rolled him onto his back. Sure enough, the face of Danny Fenton was revealed. Dash watched Danny’s chest rise and fall as he struggled to gather his own thoughts. The best he could do was sit and wait until the other boy regained consciousness. 

It wasn’t long before blue eyes revealed themselves. Danny raised his head slightly, brows furrowed in confusion. He brought a hand towards his face, then closed his eyes again, head falling back to the ground.

“Fuck.”

Pookie wandered over and began licking Danny’s cheek, and he groaned in protest, but nonetheless brought a hand to Pookie’s head and began stroking the dog gently. 

“Fenton-”

“No. Gimme like, two minutes to get my life together.”

Dash bit his tongue as he continued to watch Danny lay there. He took a seat on the ground and Pookie climbed into his lap. With a heavy sigh, Danny finally propped himself up, sitting upright, facing Dash, who now felt brave enough to start demanding answers. 

“Where’s Phantom?” He demanded. “How did you get here?”

Of all things, Danny laughed. “Are you serious?”

If Dash had any remaining energy, he would’ve grabbed the punk and shoved him into a tree. But he was tired, physically and mentally. 

“Yes, I’m serious.”

The smile disappeared from Danny’s face, and he tilted his head, thinking. Then the boy stood and the same flash of light Dash caught earlier lit up their area of the forest, then faded into a soft glow surrounding the newly appeared ghost boy. 

Dash sat dumbfounded as Phantom walked towards him.

“Does that answer your question?” He asked. 

“You-you possessed Fenton? Why?” 

Phantom rolled his eyes. “No, Dash. I am Fenton. Phantom is me. I swear, if I knew you were this bad at putting two and two together, I would’ve at least tried to lie my way out of this one.”

“Phantom…and Fenton…with the same…what?!”

“It’s a long story that I’d rather not get into.”

Dash’s mind was reeling. None of it made sense. But they lived in Amity Park. Ghosts were a common pest. Their town had been plunged into an alternate reality. Dash supposed in the grand scheme of things, radical acceptance was the way to go. 

“Ok. I believe you. But why did you help me?”

Danny smiled softly. “Why wouldn’t I?” He then brought his fingers to his mouth and let out a whistle. Seconds later, a portal spawned and spit out a small ghost. No, not a ghost. A dog. A ghost dog? Dash was confused.

The ghost-dog scampered over to Danny, jumping up on his legs, begging for attention. Danny bent down and the pup launched himself at the boy, knocking him onto his back. 

“Easy boy!” He grabbed the ghost/dog/thing and sat back up. “This is Cujo.”

Now getting a better look, Dash recognized this particular ghost. Sure enough, he’d seen it-Cujo many times with Phantom. Danny placed Cujo down, who eagerly ran up to Dash. Pookie jumped out of Dash’s lap and the two dogs began excitedly playing together. Because Dash wasn’t that stupid, he was able to put two and two together this time. 

“This is…your dog?”

“Yeah. Kinda.”

The boys watched the dogs play together in silence for a moment.

“Thanks for, uh, saving me back there,” Danny said quietly.

“Oh. Yeah. Least I could do.”

Another beat of silence.

“You won’t tell anyone, right?”

This time Dash looked away from Pookie and Cujo and up at Danny. His face was hollow, eyes dull. He looked like he’d lived and died a million lifetimes and kept the scars of each and every one of them. 

“No,” Dash said, with as much conviction he could muster. He swore he could literally see the relief roll off of Danny.

“But…” Danny stiffened as Dash started to talk again. “I want to know one thing. What is that lightning trick? Why did it work against the anti-ghost stuff? I just- I don’t understand.”

Danny looked away. “It’s…complicated.”

“It also looked really painful. Which is why I don’t understand why you’d do something like that for me.” After all the shit I’ve pulled, he added mentally.

“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for Pookie. He didn’t deserve whatever twisted things they had planned.”

Dash pressed on. “Not that I’m ungrateful, but you’ve faced way larger enemies, and I’ve never seen you bust that one out.”

Danny sighed. “Didn’t have a lot of options. Pressed for time. Lots of anti-ghost stuff working against us. Pick a reason.”

“But why-”

“Jesus Dash!” Danny cried, throwing up his hands. “You really want to know? That power? It’s all the electricity that killed me. It wasn’t ectoplasmic like everything else that assaulted my body that day. It entered my body and never left. And it fucking kills a part of me every time I use it. It’s not a ghost power. It’s a reliving of my death.” He huffed. “But I’d use it 100 times to rescue Cujo if someone got their hands on him. Because he didn’t deserve it the first time, and hell if I’m going to let something happen to him again.”

Dash watched Pookie play, not quite sure how to respond to Danny. His dog and Cujo really weren’t all that different, he supposed. Neither were he and Fenton - both ready to sacrifice anything to save their beloved pets. An overwhelming feeling of gratitude came over Dash, and before he could think further, he rushed to Danny and pulled him tight to his chest. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”  

Danny was stiff in Dash’s arms, trapped in his hug, but eventually offered a pat to Dash’s back. “Yeah. You’re…welcome.”

Dash pulled away, wiping his eyes.

“Can we go home now?”

-----

Dash grabbed the leash from the hook by the front door. Pookie rushed over, tail wagging, knowing they were going somewhere and that in itself was exciting. He reached for another accessory, this one new. It was a harness that the Fenton’s had graciously engineered that acted similarly to the specter-deflectors made for humans. They’d also taken Pookie in to check on his ecto-contamination, which actually proved to be pretty minimal. After a week on some sort of supplement, his numbers were back down to zero. 

They walked through the neighborhood down to the park. It was dark enough that most people would be home already, and the park lights made it so enough of the green was visible in the late hours. 

A moment later a flash of green was bolting towards Dash. He intercepted and brought Cujo up to eye-level, laughing as the ghost-dog squirmed in the air. He put him down to say hi to Pookie and spotted Fenton-as-Phantom approaching. Dash gave him a nod. Danny smiled back.

“Thanks for setting this up. I’m glad he has a playmate now. It’s hard keeping him entertained by myself,” Danny said.

“I have a whole lot more to thank you for,” Dash replied. “But I hope this is okay for now.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black bandana. On it was stitched words, “Mommy’s little boo” with two little embroidered ghosts. Dash held it out to Danny. “Found it at a Halloween store. Hope it’s not too cringey.”

If Danny thought so, Dash couldn’t tell, as a wide smile spread across his face. Dash watched as Danny ran off towards the dogs, the bandana gripped tightly in his hand.

“CUJO! Come here boy! Daddy has a present for you!” 

Yarf!

“Cujo NO! That’s not for eating! Hey- hold still!”

Dash laughed to himself, as Pookie ran over, removing himself from the horror that was Phantom trying to put Cujo in his bandana. Dash gave him a pat on the head. Maybe this was something he could get used to. 

[feltpool]

Misdirection

I see this scene cross my dash all the time, everyone loves this action packed episode opener, but no one really seems to notice quite how much is happening here. Or just how active a part Anakin takes even before he saunters in once Obi-Wan and Cody are behind cover.

None of this is focused on tearing down anyone's blorbos or pairings, don't get panicked before I've even said anything.

This is all about the scene using changes in camera angles and what people will assume they've seen against them in order to mislead.

Cut to the point where they're on this bridge and the troopers of the 212th are running towards the enemy. You can see their little leggies pounding the ground as they advance

You can also see, by the position of those bridge supports relative to his helmet, that Cody has stopped where he is

The camera focus shifts to the missile being fired from the Separatists position

And follows it upwards. Because that's what's important here. Right? The imminent destruction of Cody and his men?

Well, no. Because that isn't actually about to happen, but isn't it ✨dramatic✨

Cody, at this point, is busy examining his own arm

But quickly prompts the audience to focus on the missile by looking up at it too

Insert a quick reminder of what it is that he's looking at

Followed by a nice wide shot to focus on what's a stake here.

Cody central. Only a few other troopers, mostly bloodlessly dead, are in shot, and the crater in the ground he's stopped just short of

He starts to duck and cover. Surely bracing for the impending impact. Right?

But what's this? Just sneaking into shot from the left of screen?

Yep, that's definitely a lightsaber

Coming in all nice and super close up to him

Yeah, you better duck. That thing's dangerous! Nice little sliver of dark clad shoulder just barely sneaking into view there, not at all like Kenobi's beige ensemble we'll see in a moment. The finer details are hard to see because it's all fast moving and deliberately obscured

And now we get to see just how close up that lightsaber is to Cody as it strikes sparks off something so close to him that it could be taking his hand off

But it sweeps past him leaving him with all of his original limbs still intact, and no obvious signs of damage.

So where did all those sparks come from?

What did that lightsaber make contact with?

And isn't it weird how that doesn't get mentioned by anyone at any point in this story arc?

.

But we must move on quickly because fast pacing means there's no time to question anything!

So we immediately cut to where Kenobi is standing far, far away on the other side of that crater deflecting incoming enemy fire and providing cover for his men.

Smacking that missile with his lightsaber

Cutting it into two pieces, with one half flying to the left of him

And one half to the right

Where it plunks down prettily and pinkly

All neatly into the crater Cody had stopped by in the first place

Leaving Cody to look up through the cloud of thrown up dust

Make that odd looking arm gesture

And we close up on Kenobi with angry eyebrows and gritted teeth

Cut to a shocked sounding 'General!' from Cody

Before everyone with any sense follows Kenobi's lead and scrambles for cover, leaving him to wonder where Anakin vanished off to, because he'd presumably have felt his presence there given his close proximity just seconds ago

Only for Anakin to walk in all casual like and in a way that suggests to viewers he'd only just arrived there that very second.

And make his oh-so-subtle play for Obi-Wan to follow his example, to do what he's doing, to take a step with him towards the dark side, but not without making sure that Rex won't see him do it beforehand.

And I find this entire scene fascinating

[soir-rouges-esprit]

xxxiii.c: The Body, he managed to grab a large pipe wrench … he reels his arm back and with near perfect aim … tossed the large wrench with striking force right towards my temple, hitting me *CLUNK* bouncing off my head and sent flying across the open shop, off in front of me in another direction, it forced my gaze away and tilted my head slightly, forcing me to look forward/slightly off to the left … I stop and wait for a moment as the entire room stood still and in a complete silence. I lurched my head slowly back towards them … with no marks left by the strike whatsoever … now with an angry … Rage! filled expression … I turned my body almost robotically to face them and stretch out my back, tighten my arms, clench my fists and start to somewhat swiftly walk towards them. They all in an uproar started running around and in a panic started grabbing random tools and parts and chucking them at me with force … with for the most part hitting me over and over as I mushed through without a scratch, I close in on one of them, he gave me this terrified expression, I retract my left arm way back, then Way Forward! with Sound Breaking SPEED!! And plant my Fist! Straight into his head BLASTING IT TO PIECES … leaving it a bashed mess. Then another started to hit me in the side of the hip with a pipe, I grab the pipe and rip it from his hands, then begin to beat him with it … caving in his temple with every hit *Crack* *Crunch* *SQUISH* he fell to his knees as I left the now bent pipe fused to his skull … he fell over on his side. I am then met with a hail of cogs, gears, and metal sheets as another shard was essentially throwing anything he could find at me to stave my approach. I stepped over the body and rushed towards him, blocking all the other shit he tossed my way, then I DASH Forward stretching my arm out, open hand, to then … *Snatch* I grabbed him by the throat … I raised him up slowly … he struggled and struggled, as I could feel the blood course under my palm, through his tightly constricted neck, he let out little gurgles. I then with my other hand grab his right ankle, drop his neck, he falls to the side and *SLAMS* his head against the floor … I raised his ankle up slowly … then as he stared up at me, as he now hung upside down … I dropped him a little, then Immediately With FORCE Raised! Him back up! and with momentum I swung him up and over … SLAMMING HIM INTO THE GROUND, With an audible *crunch* I start to pick him up again, still gripping his ankle, as he slides across the floor back towards me, then … UP AND OVER AGAIN! *crunch* AGAIN! *Crunch* AGAIN! *CRUNCH* each side of his body … smashed to unrecognition, leaving Long streaks of blood in the directions I was slamming him in … he was … limp and lifeless. Still holding his ankle, I look up and see a petrified, laid on his ass out of fear, crawling backwards away from me while sniffling, shard. He gets up and starts to cry/scream for his life, running frantically in the opposite direction of me … I slide my arm back, the same one gripping the ankle … and Then SLING!! … The corpse towards his legs, catching and tripping him … he falls face first on the ground, busting his mouth on the floor … I walk over to him … he slowly raised his head up and turned to face me slowly, while gripping his mouth, as blood pools down under his hand … clearly broke some teeth. He is met with me standing over him, about a foot, with my large leg hovering over his head, raised straight up, as far as I could stretch it. His eyes widened and hand dropped, then … “WAIT PL-” *CRUNCH* I slammed my leg down with force … crushing his head to a pulp … and leaving a small circular crater in the ground. I lift my foot up but am restricted slightly … as his flesh and bone stuck to the bottom of my foot … pulling it from the mashed mess & gore puddle that was his head … I raised my leg higher and finally *snap* the flesh gives way and is detached … I shake my foot, flinging little bits of the shard off of me. [To Be Continued]

[katindeed]

Even more of this guy. Probably the last I'll do of him for a little bit

The being was larger than most skyscrapers. Its teeth usually were soaking red with blood but were currently dry, showing the yellowing of the fangs underneath. The lack of blood may at first seem calming to the unknowing but all residents of hell knew this meant it was looking for something, or perhaps more accurately, someone to re-wet its teeth. The large lizard-like eyes decorating its head were looking back and forth for any sign of something that drips red when pricked. Soon it saw a small humanoid shape coming towards its domain. It contorted its body getting ready to pounce, before realizing the being it was so excited to gauge was none other than head honcho of hell, Lucifer Paradiso. As Lucifer came closer the thing’s disappointment turned to fear as the king of the damned's details became clearer. While Lucifer was usually someone to not be afraid of with his calm, charming, and honestly sometimes a little pathetic demeanor, today was clearly different. His thick eye-brows were lowered, his arms swung violently by his side, and every step he took left a little crater. Even worse than that was his outfit and the object grasped tightly in his hand. He was wearing a suit, he never wore a suit, and was holding a bouquet of once nice looking flowers that were all wilting now. The only thing scarier than the hulking beast with bloody teeth was the same beast but with yellowed teeth. The only thing scarier than that was a pissed off Lucifer and the only thing scarier than that is a pissed off Lucifer after a bad date. The thing quickly dashed out of the way even though he was still a good two miles away. Lucifer finally got home not 10 minutes later. The man was definitely quick for all his flaws.

He angrily opened the door, slammed it shut, and fell on the couch sobbing. Faust could hear the whining from his quarters but pretended he didn't hear it. For the first decade working the soul contract for Lucifer, Faust couldn’t help but feel bad for his master, that was long ago now. Lucifer’s cries nowadays dug up more anger from his heart than compassion. This was the third date this month that ended poorly. Faust wished he could tell Lucifer maybe there was a reason for his consistent failing but he knew that it was best to bite his forked tongue. “FAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUSSSSST.” the voice of hell rang out through the house. Well no more avoiding it Faust thought. When he arrived at the living room he could hear Lucifer mumbling to himself in between sobs. The strong gruff voice no longer felt as authoritative as it was most hours of the day, yet it still felt like he had a level of charm in its sadness which weirdly annoyed Faust quite a lot. Faust could smell expensive wine on his master’s breath as well as blood but that wasn’t unusual for dates in the underworld. “Faaauuusst, bring me the emergency stuff.” by emergency stuff he meant the cookie dough ice cream stuffed in the freezer. Many found his little substitute words cute, for Faust it drove him insane. The only thing that gave Faust joy in this infernal job is apparently God was also annoyed by little things like that and ripped into Lucifer often. Though apparently the other angels defended Lucifer from these attacks, Faust took what he needed in short time. 21.2 seconds from living room to kitchen, new record Faust thought to himself. He handed over the tub and a spoon. He didn’t even bother to get a bowl knowing it was a fruitless offer. In the time it took for him to get the ice cream Lucifer had managed to turn on one of his comfort movies. It was one of hallmark fame. Lucifer both liked to quietly make fun of the film while also clearly becoming deeply invested in the love story. In the early years Faust found the movies slightly annoying if not charming in its own little way. Now in these years he found them unbearable. If he could scream through them he would but that would just get him in trouble. Lucifer was cuddling in a large, fluffy, glowing white blanket decorated with red pentagram stars that seemed to drip and move as the damned king cuddled into himself. Within the little blanket hole he was holding a little three-headed dog plush. Some days Faust wanted to burn that dog, actually scratch that, most days Faust wanted to burn that dog. Faust handed him the ice cream. He grabbed it quickly and tightened the blanket around him. Faust tried to leave, walking in long quick strokes, but before he could leave the gruff voice spoke sadly. “Faust, if you weren’t bound to me through your soul contract, would you leave?” Faust thought the answer of “God, no” would be the first to shoot to his head, but it took him a second of pondering to think of any answer at all. “No, sir. Now enjoy your movie and please sober up.” Faust quickly exited himself from the situation before slowly walking to his room and quietly closing the door.

[peachetteprice]

Hi!! I have a request

I have had this idea of singing/hummjng Simon “Ghost” Riley back to sleep after he has had a nightmare or can’t relax enough to fall asleep.

Reader can carry a tune; maybe not a grammy nominee but Simon loves it when they do sing.

Simon doesn’t ask them himself to hum or sing to him, it sort of just happens. No one knows how to calm him down like they do and the way Reader hums/sings one of his favorite songs and gently rubs his back works better than he thought it would.

Thank you 😊💖‼️

Hello! I took some creative liberties with the prompt given. It is only slightly different from what you gave me, but I hope I did it justice! Please let me know your thoughts. @skrubob

(Note: influenced by a sleep disorder my dad has. I don't know, I thought I could relate a bit more with that idea!)

Strangers in the Night

Simon "Ghost" Riley - 1.9K words

It happened again.

It happened again like it happened most nights: without much warning, and for no particular reason.

It wasn't a spectacular night. There was nothing distinct about the moon and its size, neither the thickness of its crescent nor the depth of its craters. It wasn't a notable day for the planets and their stars. Nobody had wished on a comet. Nothing, in fact, nothing had gone on in the day to warrant such an odd happening.

Like every day, whenever Simon was off-deployment, he woke up at 0615. No sooner and no later than the sun rose, did he clambour from the bedsheets with a tired groan and a stretch - only occasionally might he have triggered his shoulder blades to seize up, though, thankfully, today was not one of those days - make his careful way downstairs so as to not wake you, flick the kettle on for a brew and stare out of the kitchen window until its rolling boil turned to a simmer, and it clicked itself off.

The cuppa was perfect.

There wasn't a single thing wrong with it.

In fact, if he could have sampled a half-pint of it, dried it into a powder, dusted it onto a canvas and hung it up on the wall in the bedroom - so that he could have something of a reminder of the most well-balanced cup of tea he'd ever made - then he just might have. Though, that wasn't to say that it was anything extraordinary. Not at all. It was a simple, bog-standard cuppa with a dash of milk, a humped teaspoon of white cane sugar, and all he did at the end, when he pulled the teabag out, was make sure not to pinch the sides of it on the rim; that was all there was to it.

And that was all to re-iterate that nothing at all about Simon Riley's day was unusual.

To insist on that point, as you readied yourself to work, and he gave you your cuppa for the morning - two sugars, a whiff of milk, exactly how you liked it - he made sure to give you a kiss on your lips just as your palm neared the door handle. It lasted exactly three seconds, and there was nothing overtly obscene about the smack that followed or the light tap he gave the rear of your thigh as you left.

When you were gone, he did the laundry. The washing machine finished at nine, so he put the tumble dryer on, too. That finished at eleven-thirty, and everything else was put on the line in the garden, which dried until three. Between then and three, if only to keep himself occupied, he fixed one of the dining chairs that you had leant too far back on and splintered the wooden bar at the lumbar region, for which he had to pop to B&Q to grab another bottle of wood glue, which, by and by, was also nothing peculiar in the slightest.

Once that was fixed, and the washing was dry, he collected, folded - even ironed, if the crinkles needed a spot of flattening, in which case it was one of your work blouses or a pair of his fatigues - then sorted them into the chest of drawers in your bedroom.

And, of course, once that was put away, he had his second brew of the day. Equally as plain. Equally as perfect.

By 1800 hours, you were home, and he gave your lips another kiss. Six seconds, this time, double the length of the one from the morning, with a little more vigour, and unlike the previous, you gave his left buttock a little clench, then a pat, and off you went to check the fridge for dinner.

Spag-bol. Spaghetti bolognese. With parmesan, too. The only thing that could've been somewhat abnormal was the addition of cut-up Cumberland sausages that desperately needed eating up, though it was hardly the monumental incident required to be the reason behind it happening again. It was nice. Dinner. Not your finest work, but then again, weekday meals, especially when Simon was home and you had to cook for two again, never were.

After washing up, you gave him a peck on the cheek, and he held you for a moment against the cabinets, just relishing in the body heat that he missed that morning. And when that was over, you popped the TV on - something completely ordinary in genre, motif, and drama - and fell asleep against him on the sofa.

Perhaps it was why you didn't notice so much. Perhaps if you'd stayed awake, you would have known when, why, or how it came to be.

An hour or two - or some duration of time in between - of light sleep passed, and you woke to the sound of his electric toothbrush whirring away. You joined him in the bathroom to brush your teeth, he slung an arm about your waist and drew circles into your stomach, though you were still some variable of dazed by the sudden jolt from being asleep to awake, but it was all alright, truly, because within two minutes, you were dead asleep again.

It was uncertain how much time had passed between falling asleep and being awake again. That was the terrible thing with sleep. Sleep blurs the lines between seconds and hours. What could have been five minutes could have easily been five hours, and what could have been ten hours often felt no longer than ten seconds. Time becomes an illusion, much like the theory in which, on one planet, it is equally plausible that thirty seconds in passing may equal three days in another, and yet, both planets cohabit the same space, the same universe, mere light years apart.

When you did manage to fall asleep again after brushing your teeth, and when it did happen again, it was a mere three seconds.

There was shouting. Some rambling. It bled into your unconsciousness until, with a rather heavy dip in the sheets, a bolt from the blue, you were left wide-awake.

"Simon?" You said into the void. There wasn't much to be seen at night.

"Where? Where is it? There's a--"

--You were awake now. That was for definite. Three seconds had passed, and Simon was awake, too. There was something odd about the frenzy in his eyes. If it wasn't for his blown pupils, you would have been convinced there was an intruder somewhere in the house. But he looked delirious. Three seconds had passed, and he hadn't slept a wink for something more like three days. But in the same breath, he was barely awake.

He was somewhere in between, mumbling under his breath about a spider and how it was somewhere here, in the bedroom, and it wanted him.

He wasn't making any sense - Simon Riley was not afraid of a bloody spider.

Twenty-two hours, eighteen minutes, and three seconds had passed. Nothing pertubing had happened prior, and yet, it was happening again.

"Simon, love, go back to sleep." You enveloped the shadow of his waist and pressed him back to the mattress - luckily, he hadn't left the bed yet. He was in and out of it, then. Ever-mumbling, eyelids still bursting wide every few seconds with the type of fear that should have only been present in somebody murdered. "It's alright."

It didn't happen often.

A few times since you'd been together, all countable on one hand, which, at this point, was years. He'd told you it might happen the first night you'd slept together in the same bed. Not the first time you'd slept together, full stop, but when he moved in and co-opted the king-sized bed in the bedroom. It was real, then. The relationship.

He never remembered it in the morning. Never did. Never will. You know he never did - he would have apologised if he did. Never asks if it's happened, but he's sure it has, because he notices the way your eyes never leave him the morning after, as if you're worried he might start yelling obscenities again and you have to hold him.

You always have to hold him. Like his mother did. One arm along his belly, stroking his stomach, and the other around the curve of his head, petting his hair like he's a little lamb. He would never be embarrassed about it, what you have to do to calm him, but if he were to ever ask if he'd ever woken up in a state, looking half as scared as a little boy in the dark - you wouldn't tell him. No. It's only a memory for you, and you'd rather like to keep it that way.

"It's alright." You cooed.

Sometimes, you sing to him. If he needs it. You sung that night, actually. He needed it that night. God, you must have sounded awful. Part of you was pleased at the fact that he never remembers it once he wakes up, because you'd quite like to avoid the conversation about how you can only just about hold a tune, and not with much fluidity.

It was Etta James' I'd Rather Go Blind.

The DJs on Smooth Radio played it during crawl traffic on the M60, rattled on about how incredible of a voice she had, they did, which was salt in the wound, really - there was an accident that morning on the hard shoulder, it took all of fifteen minutes to clear - and it was all that was stuck in your head at work, on the toilet, in the break-room and in the car on the way home.

It was the only song that came to mind as you started singing. A few wobbly notes here and there, nothing but of jumble of lyrics where it was certain you'd said more than one of the pre-chorus lines in favour of getting to the chorus itself, and you could hardly stop yourself from whispering some notes that you knew you wouldn't be able to reach at a murmur.

Simon settled a little at that. You were sure there wasn't much cognition behind those eyes - he was nothing but a walking zombie whenever it happened - but his hands clasped the one on his stomach, his pupils pinched back to normal, and by the second chorus, he was calm again.

You held him for a while. A long while. Until daybreak came in. Just to make sure it wouldn't happen again.

And at 0615, when the sun crept in to cast its shadow along the foot of the bed - and it would still be another hour until you rose - Simon awoke, stretched out his shoulder blades - though, this time, they did seize up - and faced your conked-out body.

Simon did notice something peculiar, then.

Your arms wrapped around his torso - which were often the other way around - should have been clutching the covers. There never meant to be a kink in your brow. Never was. Never should have been. Only on the mornings when you looked at him with too much empathy - when something had happened the night before that you never wished to talk about, was there ever such concern knotted into them.

And, in that moment, Simon knew. He leant a kiss to your lips, later joined them at your earlobe, too, before whispering;

And there actually was something anomalous about that day, irreverent of the last. For some reason, whether because of the stars, the moon, or the planets, Simon had an Etta James song stuck in his head. How bloody weird.

"Thank you, love."

| Masterlist |

[pahrak-the-sinnoh-slizer]

River's Rage

He broke the surface of the lake only to find more water, a cold rainstorm that felt like icy bullets shooting him full of holes.  Deep gasps let him fill his deflated lungs, and then he furiously swung his limbs to propel himself towards the shore—or so he hoped, unable to see much of anything in the darkness.  Soon he could feel his feet brushing against the sloping ground beneath the lake.  He kept going until he could stand with the water reaching chest-level, at which point he allowed himself one short moment to rest his sore body.  Upon clearing his eyes, however, he cursed himself for thinking he’d have even that long.

It stood ahead on the shore, fixing its eerie yellow eyes on him, just waiting, watching him.  When it realized he was watching back, it chuckled and rose to its full height.  Its limbs were long and lanky, but swelled with powerful, compact muscle at every movement.  Webbed claws glinted in what little light pierced the clouds.  Those eerie, horrible yellow eyes stared down a razor-sharp beak, and above them, at the top of its skull, was a wide, deep crater almost like a bowl, edged with small flaps of hair.  It bowed, and water spilled out of the cranial depression.  The rain immediately started to refill it as the creature straightened its back.

“Good evening, dear fellow!”  Its voice was hoarse yet piercing, every carefully chosen word dripping with malice.  “I must admit, I feared you were done for when ol’ Mudsy sent the reaperfish after you, but it seems I worried for naught!  Truly remarkable!”

He didn’t dare move an inch, not forward nor back.  “Great, another one.  Just tell me why you’re here.”

It cocked its head.  “Beg pardon?  I merely thought we should be properly introduced to one another.”  Holding its arms wide, its beak twisted into a deep, dark grin.  “Lord Kamikawa Getsumaru, Baron of the Western Antarctic Delta, at your service.  And what is your name, my friend?”

He thrust one hand forward.  A reddish-yellow flower bloomed on his wrist, and from it, a vine grew rapidly to shoot across the gap at Kamikawa.  The creature dodged, diving into the lake, and in a fraction of a second it was behind him.  For a moment, he froze.

“Ah yes, your scorch-wither primrose—quite lovely, now that I look at it more closely.  You must perform an exemplary job in caring for it.”

Hoping to catch it off-guard, he whirled about as the vine was retracting.  Kamikawa vanished as soon as he made the slightest movement.

“Quah hah hah!” it laughed, popping up out of the water a few yards away.  “Don’t strain yourself, child—surely you know a land-dweller like you could never best a kappa in aquatic combat, no?”

Not letting himself freeze this time, he dashed onto the shore, while Kamikawa simply moved to the lake’s edge and shook its head.

“Really now, must you be so difficult?  All I’ve done is ask your name.”

“All you’ve done…?”  The primrose glowed faintly as he ground his teeth.  “You bastards have done plenty!  Destroyed our homes, slaughtered our people, enslaved the survivors…what makes you think this planet belongs to you?”

Kamikawa sighed.  “Yes, how silly of us to seize ownership of the planet, because you humans were doing such a good job taking care of it.  Might I remind you who it was that raised the sea level so high in the first place, hm?  Why, if we hadn’t stopped you, I doubt you’d have any land at all left to stand on!”

“What, should we thank you?!”

“Well, it would certainly be more mannerly than whatever this is.”

Snarling, he made a flourish.  More vines grew from his primrose, this time shaping into a bow that he drew back as an arrow formed in its notch.  Kamikawa came onto land as he fired.  Stepping out of the arrow’s path was easy, but shock finally crossed its face when the arrow exploded mid-flight, littering the shore with thorny caltrops that were already growing roots.  A volley of ten arrows came next, forcing Kamikawa to dodge—placing its foot directly upon one of the caltrops.  The puncture wound was painful, but the pain only truly blossomed when the plant started rapidly siphoning the moisture out of the kappa’s body.  Its howl was horrific.

“Gotcha!”  The human ran forward, his primrose now forming a thorned glove around his fist.  “Turn to dust!”

He aimed a haymaker at the kappa.  It was close, but Kamikawa pulled out of the way, and before he knew what was happening he was facedown in the mud.

“Con…found it!”  Kamikawa yanked its leg free.  Grabbing its foe by the arm, it hoisted him into the air and knocked the wind out of him, his primrose wilting slightly as he groaned.  “How infuriating you are!”

He shut his eyes, waiting for what came next.

“Hrrr…I suppose it’s enough that I asked for your name, even if you refused to answer.  Alright then, land-dweller: time for you to run on home.”

His eyes opened on their own.  “…Huh?  You’re…not going to—"

“Eat you?  No, much as I’d like to; Mudsy was quite clear I was not to interfere in his little chase, and it would be quite poor manners to break my word, now wouldn’t it?  You’ve escaped him, so escape you shall.  However.”

It drew close to his face, eerie eyes glowing, hideous grin plastered across its beak.

“Don’t think I won’t remember you.  Should we happen to meet again, my obligation will have long expired, leaving no reason for me not to gut you on the spot.  ‘Til then!”

[writer59january13]

I also feel blasé today February 19th, 2024

Linkedin to being lax, and shirking house cleaning tasks, which negligence cost us (yours truly and the missus) a golden opportunity to relocate to Hillcrest Village in Boyertown, Pennsylvania another HUD subsidized property under the aegis of Grosse and Quade, one of the larger residential property management firms in the Delaware Valley. Physical unwellness (insync with racing heart) arose because Kathleen Bergen the new property manager here at 2 Highland Manor voiced absolute zero positive feedback, upon taking lock, stock, and barrel of appalling living conditions, her blistering vocalization (from wuthering heights) translated as a foregone conclusion against our hopes pinned on moving into two bedroom apartment referenced above topmost lines. Said plummeted disappointment (courtesy blunt admission out the mouth of (humpty dumpty sat on a wall) frumpty recent hire identified in a previous poem as new warden) verbosely predicated upon gross appearance of living space immediately dashed cautious optimism citing unkempt state within no crater than moonwalking unit b44, whereby we wished to skadaddle far away from obligation to be mindful of rules and regulations codified within a binding lease. Unlikely home ownership will ever come to pass, nor the lesser prospect to rent more spacious domicile larger than a one bedroom apartment, no bigger than a bread box den me and the missus, (a hen pecking spouse) might befriend Bugs Bunny,

who might guarantee adequate sized rabbit hole constituting large enough wonderland receiving stamp of approval courtesy Alice in Chains subsidized lodging money back plus additional warren tee granted by Mister Michael Fox, who took me back to the future,

when the pace of life plodded along at leisurely rhythm.

Only within outer limits realm of twilight zone,

where dark shadows

inch along edge of night (while two thumbs and index finger belonging to separate good sports grab hold the furcula

(or wishbone) structure formed by the ventral fusion of the right and left clavicles and the median interclavicle silently mouth invocation) holds at bay, the inexplicable phenomena moored, harbored, and docked awaiting lucky recipient, whose merrythought bestowed upon he/she, they/them.

[pocketramblr]

With recent manga discoveries, I can't help but imagine Izuku getting blasted left and right by more villains than in canon. All of them want a slice of the Traitor Nomu, of the puppet that tore its strings away and seeks to strangle its creator. Of course, thats not the real truth, but what can Izuku say against it? Nothing. All For One lets it continue, because its free murder attempts for him.

For the general populace, he's more reassuring than in canon. He's actively fighting against the puppet master of the underworld, and those rainbow eyes hold depth, unlike the other Nomu.

To Aizawa, it's hell. To him, it looks like Izuku's being pulled closer to All For One. What if he left not of his own free will, but something deeper? What if he falls, catatonic, like Oboro did? What if his student gets restrung by the joints, in that man's thrall once again?

Toshinori can do nothing but watch. He cannot say anything. One For All remains a secret.

Oooh i hadn't thought of eye glow much in light of the hide-and-go-seek-arc. (i know ao3 calls it the villain hunt arc but this name is more fun so there) AfO would still send Nagant, probably, and she's been in jail too long to even know about Nomu. Others are probably the same way. Muscular would know about Nomu and probably would be annoying Izuku with questions asking how he broke away when they fought the second time, while Izuku just wants to know AfO's location. Everyone else wants to know too, rushing Izuku constantly. He'd be even more stressed out and sleep deprived, which does not help the misconceptions.

The dark circles under his eyes bring out all the colors they glow with even more.

There's still always a moment people pause, always a split second before they recognize him where the color and the shadowed movement tells them 'nomu', but then they see the green sparks in the light and sag in relief, it's the traitor nomu. its the proof that AfO's will isn't as strong and it seems. It's hope to keep fighting even after you feel loss and pain. I imagine shelters marked with paintings and chalk of a shadowy figure with the glowing eyes and the lightning, a sign that this is a place of safety, of resistance against AfO.

All Might isn't the only one making him bentos, others start keeping an extra on them, or their good luck keychain, or a water bottle, something. Something small but helpful, to offer Izuku should they come across him if there's trouble.

Frequently, when there's trouble, the people end up exchanging the water and food and trinkets and stories that come with them with each other, with the other victims, as Izuku leaves too fast to take any. But there's hope in that too, as he inspires them to help each other and stand together, without even knowing he's doing it.