#frostbite just showed up and glares at him

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 100

John likes to trick beings to getting himself a good deal and screwing the entities over. So he does this with the new ghost king.

He somehow worded the deal to keep the king in his home realm. You know to keep Danny in the infinite realm unable to attack the earthly realm.

This backfires. And backfires hard. Danny’s home realm is still the earthly one. All John did was not let him back into the realm.

Danny is thrilled. And living his best life. No more council meetings, the paperwork is stuck in the keep, the Observants can’t force him to do kingly duties and above all else. He is passing all of his classes. Scheduled fights with his rogues help as well.

John. Well he’s not having a good time. The Observants are screaming at him, the new king is stuck in earth who knows what he is up to, and he’s had visits from all of Danny’s ghost guardians to yell at him.

John has to break the deal.

Danny doesn’t want to.

When Danny eventually agrees to discuss it. He shows up with a ghost lawyer, sam, and Jazz all in order to secure Danny a good deal. Maybe tucker as well.

Danny wants at least rated M and movie tickets for him and his friends for life, and of course Martian manhunters autograph.

Jazz wants him to get a guarantee that they would leave him alone.

Sam wants them to guarantee ghost protection and end the Giw.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

More of Stanley's sketchbook because he makes me sick /pos

(Just imagine he was looking in a mirror at the subway to draw this anshfhwj. The london bus ticket is unrelated, it's just a random knick knack he had lying around<3)

People weren't the only ones Stan met on the streets.

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+ this is an absolute fucking batshit WILD oneshot I initially wrote for these drawings that got WAY out of hand, if you feel like reading that.

The oneshot below is a stand-alone now, and in no way is related to the drawings above, but I just wanted to show you guys because Jesus Christ

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Winter of 1981, at a subway station Stan doesn't remember the name of-

The sorry excuse of a transport system that this hellhole of a city called a functioning subway was hardly anyone's first choice of a warm place to stay the night. And yet, here Stanley was; standing like an idiot in the middle of a small bustling stairwell that led down to the full screeching chaos of a train stop on a Tuesday evening. A rowdy crowd of exhausted office workers streamed out like a tidal wave from the entrance of the station, the bustle of their footsteps all too eager to go home and relax after a long day of work.

The faint, stuffy stench of old piss and sweat followed the crowd to the surface from the deep depths of a less than sanitary and overcrowded train station. The pungent smell intermingled with the crisp stinging winter air in a cocktail of shitty city gloom often associated with this time of the year; when the holidays were too far away and the sun seemed to come and go with practically the same 9 to 5 schedule as the workers had, leaving them going to work in the pitch dark and coming back out in the inky black as well.

He might have looked like he belonged there, depending on how one would want to look at it. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the sea of prim, pressed suits and neart uniforms. His ratty old jacket and generally unwashed appearance certainly didn’t help his case, but he also knew that stations like these also tended to shelter quite a number of homeless wanderers like him, especially during the winter. So, it wasn't exactly uncommon to see other sore thumbs seeking reprieve from the biting cold and the dangerous likelihood of frostbite from within the enclosed walls of the subway station.

Heck, if most of these underground kingdoms didn't also happen to be a breeding ground for several illicit activities, he might even have followed their lead. But, believe it or not, Stanley's already had enough experience with illegal activities to last him a last time, and he isn't looking for a new fill. He was satisfied with what meager shelter his trusty car offered him, as little a difference it might make in terms of safety.

Stanley's obstruction of the already narrow stairs with his loitering went unappreciated, as shoulders roughly shoved past him and swinging briefcases repeatedly bumped into his sides, usually coupled with a nasty glare and a snide comment or two. He paid them no mind, however. He wasn't here to start a fight with some random bum with a dead end job, as much as he thought it would probably do them both some good to duke their stresses out on one another.

The hours ticked by with wave after wave of new crowds being dropped off by a train and left to pour out of the station into the streets. By the time the streetlights turned on and the pale pink in the sky slowly faded to make way for the stark glittery black of the night sky, the tide of people had slowed to a trickle and rush hour was long since over. He was now the stairs’ sole occupier, with a few occasional stragglers stumbling up the steps and hurrying past him without a second glance.

Stanley did not move from his spot, however. He stood resolutely in the middle of the stairway, fervently rubbing his arms and stamping his feet in a futile attempt to try and regain feeling in his extremities as he waited. Rocking on his heels, he titled his head backwards to let his eyes roam the constellations that carpeted the endless expanse of the sky stretched out above his head, almost losing himself in the scintillating canvas of stars.

It reminded him of old times; of the sparkling beach sand twinkling in the dim moonlight, and the soft sound of lilting waves hovering in the background as he lay back on the cold wooden deck of his ship and watched the stars dance.

He still remembered every name his brother had once recited to him time and time again as he pointed out each star and galaxy from the night sky.

Then, like clockwork, he was broken out of his reveries by a telltale meow coming from below. The sound was a familiar blanket that immediately melted away the tension that had begun to build in his chest as he practically sagged with relief.

His body moved almost automatically as he leaned down to detach the frail tabby cat that was attempting to literally fuse with his legs, purring up a storm and rubbing her head against his pants as though her life depended on it. The cat gave a soft chirrup of dissatisfaction at being manhandled, which Stanley absentmindedly replied with a chiding click of his tongue as he lifted her up his chest and gently tucked her into his jacket in a practiced motion.

She thankfully remained blissfully limp in his grasp as he shifted around some more so that she was nestled comfortably inside the dark pocket of warmth inside his ratty jacket. The tiny warm lump that rumbled contently against his front radiated with heat, and his fingers finally began to feel like actual fingers rather than useless stiff frigid lumps of meat and bone attached to his palms.

A pointed cough startled him from his clumsy wriggling to get the cat to settle down. An oddly familiar security guard stood at the entrance of the station at the bottom of the stairs, leveling Stanley an unimpressed look with the metal gate in his grip already halfway closed, ready to seal the subway for the night. He must have been a comical sight; caught awkwardly bent over while trying to get his newly acquired cat to stop kneading biscuits on his stomach, with said cat peeking out from the gap between his collars.

Stanley faintly recognized the guard. He was a much older man, with a shock of thinning white hair neatly tucked underneath a dark blue cap and a strange depth in his eyes that reminded Stanley of the sea; with countless unspoken truths lurking far beneath the surface, but no less grand and knowing of all that the universe had to offer, as though he had already lived a thousand lives before this one.

He had seen the man around before, at another station, doing the opposite of his job by ushering stray buskers and homeless stragglers from the streets and into the (relatively) safe walls of the subway, instead of doing what any other law-abiding security guard would do and kick them out into the elements. He wasn't sure what the older man was doing here, of all places, since all the previous stations he'd seen the man at had been several states over, practically on the other side of the country.

A brief spark of panic shot through his spine at the thought that this man could be following him, but he quickly discarded the ridiculous notion as soon as it entered his mind. He had never even seen him before, and hardly ever even interacted with him; there was no reason for there to be any sort of bad blood between them. Unless he happened to be related to one of Stanley's many, many enemies, then perhaps his fear was a little warranted.

However, the old guard made no move to attack or do anything other than stare judgmentally, almost expectantly. For the first time in a long time, Stanley felt like a child being caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do. He tried his best to keep his uncomfortable squirming to a minimum under the unrelenting gaze, stubbornly returning the man's gaze with his own wary glare. His cat’s muffled whining came from inside his jacket. The traitor, she was leaving him to deal with the old man on his own.

With an exasperated jerk of his head, the security guard gestured towards the inside of the station. For a moment, Stanley stared dumbly, uncomprehending of what the old man could possibly want from him. Rolling his eyes, this time the man gestured more insistently at the small gap that still remained between the metal gate and the entrance, his arm sweeping the air in a low arc as he dramatically urged Stanley inside. Suddenly, it clicked, and Stanley shook his head.

“I have a car,” he said plainly, his voice echoing loudly in the desolate silence of the winter night that surrounded the unlikely pair.

He wasn't sure why he was so nervous, it wasn't as though he was lying. He did have a car, his trusty Stanley-mobile was parked safely away in the corner of an unassuming alley that wasn't often frequented by anyone. There was no way he was reaching it tonight, though; it was practically on the other side of the city, much too far away for him to arrive at a reasonable time. His nightly excursions to meet his small friend unfortunately left him with no other choice than to leave his car behind, the hunk of metal far too unwieldy and noticeable to drive around openly on the streets. He never knew who could be watching, after all.

He had simply been hoping to find himself a dark corner to tuck himself into with his cat, just for the night, but it seemed as though the universe had other plans. Or rather, this strange old man had other plans.

Although, if Stanley thought about it, the subway wasn't such a bad suggestion. This was one of the safer stations in the city; and with the rich neighborhoods being so close by, no rogue criminal or dealers dared to come near this area unless they wanted to be slapped with a hefty fine or face a higher potential to be arrested. And of course, there was the obvious shelter from the unrelenting cold that now seemed to permeate his bones, even with the purring warmth that was nestled inside his jacket.

So, that was how he found himself hunkering down for the night inside a shabby old subway station, with a satisfied cat still rumbling away against his chest and a strange old security guard locking down the gates behind him. The man said nothing as he hooked his keys back onto his belt and gave a firm pat on Stanley's shoulders as he walked past him, pausing to scratch his cat behind her ears before moving away. His footsteps bounced off of the grimy tiled walls with an odd reverb as he turned a corner.

“You'll be safe in here,” the man said, voice sage and gravelly. The words had a weight to them, and seemed to hang in the air with such a presence it was as though the old man had never even left his side.

The subway was empty, quiet. It was such a stark contrast to the loud rowdiness of the rush hour crowd these halls once held. Stanley hadn't yet registered the utter silence of the station as he aimlessly made his way down the winding, deserted halls of the ancient station. He mindlessly walked past the aged and peeling advertising posters plastered on the walls, his nose becoming accustomed to the stinging stench of the subway. The quiet seemed to swallow the sound of his steps as he explored the branching paths and endless tunnels. They were almost kaleidoscopic, dizzying, nonsensical. There were doors where there shouldn't be, and deadends where it didn't make sense.

The silence only began to truly settle in his bones the more he walked. He suddenly wished that he would head the telltale footsteps of the old security guard again, just to hear another sign of life in this underground hellscape other than himself. The ghostly memories of screeching trains and bustling crowds haunted the halls; now, only nothingness reigned supreme. He glanced down at his small feline companion, who slumbered away against his chest, blissfully unaware of his jackrabbiting heartbeat threatening to burst out of his ribs. The silence seemed to permeate every inch of space and crush the air out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe.

Stanley’s steps grew faster, more frantic as the walls and ceilings seemed to close in on him. They grew smaller, tighter; squeezing, trapping. He hardly even registered his cat's complaints as she was jostled around in his grasp, breaking into a full out run. His breathing sounded loud, too loud, and the world was collapsing around him.

When he finally broke out into a large, open platform, he could finally breathe again. He had arrived at the tracks, the empty tunnel where the trains would pass an empty, gaping maw in the wall that seemed to swallow all light around it and beckon him closer. He felt his cat wriggle out from within his jacket and hop out with a displeasured yowl, scampering away and disappearing behind a corner much like the old man had. True silence pierced his ears and thrummed like a deafening pressure in his temples. He was alone.

Stanley was stuck in that subway station for years.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

The Start of the Future (Part 26)

Previous | Masterpost

The ring of rage made it possible for Danny to open portals to the Infinite Realms on his own, which would at least make commuting back and forth much easier. While they were at the Watchtower Danny had raided the equipment that had been liberated from the GIW bases and, after his panic attack, he found a suit of ectoplasmic armour that he could update and upgrade for Jason. Sure he was already liminal but Danny would rather be safe than sorry with the amount of concentrated ecto he’d be exposed to in the Infinite Realms. It was pretty easy to tinker with, improve the blasters and repaint it to match Jason’s colour pallet, once it was slimmed down a little as well and given a better finish Danny had to say it looked cool as hell. 

Once it was done and Jason had some experience wearing it and operating the weapons, they were as ready as they were ever going to be to face the mountain of paperwork that was inevitably waiting for Danny. It was easiest to leave from the Batcave, leaving Jason’s motorbike there before Danny transformed back into Phantom. With one last check on Jason’s armour Phantom ripped a hole through space and time to get to his new castle. As he stepped through onto the dark cobblestones he felt a shiver run down his spine. God this place was so deeply infused by Pariah’s malice it was going to take him a long time to shape the haunt to his will instead of its previous master. 

Danny was not pleased to see that half the council and the Observants were waiting for him, as was Fright Knight. Just great. The portal closed and Fright Knight stepped forward, and Danny stepped back, Jason slid between the two of them glaring at Fright Knight through his visor. Fright paused looking annoyed, but after it became clear Jason wasn’t going to move and Danny wasn’t going to come forward again Fright elected to ignore Jason and just focus on Danny past Jason. 

“My King,” Fright Knight bowed to Danny. “I want you to know that my vow to the crown still holds. I will serve you however you order, I will be your knight.”

“No you will not,” Danny said calmly but firmly, ignoring the look of hurt and fear in Fright’s eyes. “I will not revoke your title, and you may continue to serve the crown, but I will be knighting Red Hood. He will be my knight, not a knight of the crown,” He said with a sneer. “For now you can serve me by making sure news of my rule is properly spread. Make sure they know, and know that things will be changing and do it without threats. Understand?”

“Yes my King,” Fright said, though he still didn’t seem pleased he wouldn’t disobey an order. He got up and shot a glare at Jason before flying off to do a task Danny hoped would keep him busy for a good long while given the Realms were Infinite and all. 

Once he was gone Danny turned back towards the rest of his ‘welcoming party’, He sighed and forced his shoulders to relax. “So, show me to the work that needs to be done,” He said, more confidently than he felt.

“Oh there will be plenty of time for that,” Clockwork said wryly, leaning heavily on his staff. 

“There’s a royal wedding to plan!” Frostbite butted in, excited and eager as ever, trigger near identical startled sounds from Jason and Danny. 

“Are you sure? We were planning on waiting and getting married in the mortal world first. I’m sure there’s a ton of stuff to do before…” He trailed off because Pandora was shaking her head. 

She held out one set of hands, the other still clasped behind her back; “A royal wedding is exactly what we need. It had been a long time since the Realms had a king, and much longer still since anything to do with a king could be called a joyous occasion. Not counting when the council managed to bind Pariah Dark.

“A royal wedding will bring everyone together so they can see you, while ensuring the expectation is that they be happy for you, and bring gifts. Since the coronation was immediate, and took place in the human world, this is the best opportunity for you to meet the other governing bodies within the Realms, and to set their expectations of you.” 

“I do not want my wedding to be a political affair,” Danny said coldly, drawing himself up to his full height, which still wasn’t very impressive at all in the face of Pandora and Frostbite. He was taller than Clockwork now at least. He relaxed just slightly when Jason rested a gloved hand on his shoulder.

“You can still have the wedding you want in the human world, the ceremony here won’t be binding there. And you can have whatever guests you want as well as the political ones, the guest list will be hundreds long as is, and we’ll make sure spaces for family are reserved right at the front,” Frostbite assured, placatingly. 

Danny took a deep breath and shook his head before turning back towards Jason. “What do you think?” He asked, taking one of Jason’s hands, he couldn’t quite lace their fingers together with the size of Jason’s gloves so this would have to do. 

Jason shrugged; “I told you I’m happy to get to marry you multiple times, This isn’t the way we planned it sure, but this can be a dress rehearsal basically, and I gotta admit I’m curious as fuck about what sort of gifts ghosts will give their king. I think Robin and Phantasm will have a blast with it too. Ohhh you should invite Constantine! Seeing him scramble to get a gift would be hilarious!”

Danny couldn’t help but smile at Jason, glad he wasn’t taking this seriously as he might have, and could see the humour in it. “Alright,” Danny agreed fondly, leaning forward to kiss his helmet over Jason’s cheek. “How do ghostly weddings even work?” He asked, turning back towards his new council. 

Clockwork smiled approvingly and Frostbite downright cheered, Jason and Danny were shepherded into a council room where planning began. For the most part Danny and Jason let the planning take place around them rather than actually taking part in it.  They put in their input here and there, colour choices, food, making sure things were human-safe options for the few guests Danny and Jason wanted to bring. The councilors were the ones who knew who in the Realms needed to be invited, mostly kings and chiefs of various sections of the realms who were too used to ruling without oversight. 

When it seemed like all the personal touches were finished Danny placed his palms on the table and stood up, smiling around the table without much feeling. “Is the guest list all you’ll be discussing now?” He asked calmly.

“Well, yes but-” Pandora started but Danny held up his hand and shook his head. 

“I don’t care who you invite other than my family. Send me a list of who you decide to invite and what I need to know. I’m going to have a look around the rest of the keep to see what else I’ve inherited from that bastard, other than a complete mess.” Danny dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Did Pariah Dark have an office?”

There was a moment of silence, the rest of the council glancing around at one another, everyone clearly expecting someone else to have an answer. “He must have had an office right?” Frostbite questioned. 

“I’m sure that he did,” Pandora agreed, nodding firmly. “He wasn’t always mad, he did his duty at some point.”

“Great,” Danny sighed, pushing himself back from the table and standing up. “Well, maybe we’ll find his office while we’re exploring and if not I’ll choose a new room to be my office. I should start remaking this place to suit me anyway, I don’t want anyone you bring to the wedding to think that I’m in any way like him after all, I should start reshaping this place.”

“Very well,” Clockwork sighed and turned back towards the table, launching back into discussions about the guest list. After that would be discussion of seating arrangements. Danny fully expected this to take days. Even if they insisted this needed to be done quickly, all of the people discussing it were ancient and immortal, to them tomorrow still meant next month. Of course thanks to the time dilation in the living world they would still get around to the wedding before Danny and Jason could, unless they wanted a Vegas wedding, which he didn’t. Although… No, he wouldn’t compromise the wedding that they had dreamed for this. 

Danny slipped out of the room with Jason on his heels to explore with him. Danny paused to take Jason’s hand again so they could walk together down the broad, dimly lit haul. Danny grimaced and glared at one of the torches. “Okay to start with we can get some more fucking light in here, and maybe a rug,” He grumbled, closing his eyes and focusing on the ecto around him. It was resistant to his touch, he wasn’t the mind that it was used to responding to and it didn’t want to listen to him. But this was his haunt now, he was the master of this space now and it would answer to him. 

The world beyond Danny’s eyelids brightened slightly and Jason gasped softly. Danny opened his eyes and gave a self satisfied smile when he saw the torches were brighter and a slightly warmer shade of green and there was now a very grand rug stretching off down the long hall. “Good, that’s better. Let’s get going.”

“How did you do that?” Jason asked curiously. 

“Oh right, you’ve never been to the Ghost Zone before! The entire place is made of ectoplasm, that means it responds to emotion and will. Not all of it I mean, every ghost has a haunt and the ecto in their haunt responds to them, everyone’s haunt is specially tailored to them. Actually… because when I died I didn’t come to the Realms naturally, I’m not sure I had a haunt here before I defeated Pariah and took his. I’d better make the most of it huh? I’m going to manifest an observatory!” Danny exclaimed, excitement getting the better of him for a moment. And why not? It was about time this place felt a little bit of joy. 

Jason laughed and Danny grinned at him, tugging him along after him. “Come on, we should find a bedroom for the two of us as well and make that ours. We’ll be spending some nights here while I set everything up, or at least I will. I’ll figure out how to make it safe for you so you can have a comfortable place here too while you’re still living.”

“I love how ominous you are,” Jason said with genuine warmth, making Danny laugh again. They continued on with a bounce in their step and the energy of giddy children exploring an ancient mansion, and they found plenty of hidden rooms and hallways to justify that excitement. Though whether they’d been there before or if the ecto was manifesting them because Danny expected them to be there was anyone’s guess. 

They carried on that way until they found a potential bedroom that, with a little editing, would work for the both of them. Danny could will a lot of the ecto in the room to be inert, or absent, but it took a lot of concentration and it wasn’t perfect. He was going to have to invent something, a miniature ghost shield maybe? Either way it would be safe for one night and Jason was tired.

Danny lay with him until he was asleep, but in his ghost form and in a place of infinite ambiently metabolizable ecto he didn’t need to sleep much and he wasn’t tired. He slipped out of bed again and left a note for Jason in case he woke up while Danny was gone. Then he continued exploring, looking specifically for the office now because with Jason asleep he had nothing better to do then get a start on the work right?

Unfortunately he did find the office, which was dusty as fuck somehow despite no one here shedding skin cells. There were piles upon piles of papers here, the stacks had probably started on the desk, but when they got too tall work had started to pile up on the floor. As Pariah lost interest in the actual work people must have continued to just drop paperwork here in the hopes he might get around to some of it… eventually. They had probably only stopped once Pariah had been bound in the coffin, and then enough time passed for everyone to forget this office even existed. 

Danny sighed and settled into work, starting with the dustiest piles because those were the oldest. Most of the papers that didn’t disintegrate as soon as he picked them up were probably not valid anymore and the ones that were were probably long overdue and increasingly desperate. He incinerated ones that said they needed things on a time limit, thousands of years expired the need had probably passed one way or another, and if not they could re-submit the request to him this time. The ones that seemed like they might still need help he set aside to ask Pandora or Clockwork about when he got the chance. 

The task became meditative; pick up a paper, scan it for dates, then set it aside or incinerate it. The small amount of ecto in each of the papers giving him a little boost as they disintegrated. It gave him the time and the brain space to pay attention to his new haunt, expanding his mind to start the process of properly melding with his new haunt. It was resistant to his will for now, and he didn’t feel like forcing it, he wasn’t going to be that kind of king after all. For now it was enough to let it get used to his presence, like sharing space with a neglected cat.

At least by the morning it was responsive enough to tell him that Jason was up. Danny sighed and got up, stretching with a groan. He had gotten through about a quarter of the accumulated paperwork, not reading it or anything, just sorting out that maybe he should read it later. But still the room looked much less crowded and dusty so he was going to call that a pretty good start! He shut the door after him and concentrated for a moment to alter the door, making it more distinctive and easier to find for the future before he rushed off the say good morning to Jason, and open a portal out of the zone so they could at least get some breakfast.

Jason met him at the door and hugged Danny tightly, scooping him up as Danny yelped then laughed, wrapping his arms around Jason’s shoulder in return. “Put me down,” He laughed, not really meaning it so Jason held him for a minute longer before putting him down and kissing him sweetly enough Danny started purring instantly. 

“Let’s go to the courthouse,” Jason announced, soft and breathless once he put Danny down. 

“What?” Danny asked, shocked, but when Jason looked chagrined and started to pull away Danny hugged him tighter and pulled him back in. “No no! I’m not opposed to it, I’m just surprised!”

“I know. And I’m really not upset about the ghost wedding thing, I meant that! And I don’t want us to rush before having our big wedding. But that’s going to include a ton of heroes right? So it’s kinda a masked wedding, and I want us to be married before we’re politically married you know? Let's pick up our siblings, maybe Bruce, and go to a courthouse. I’ll buy you a bouquet, and Bruce can pay for the fanciest fucking dinner of our lives as an afterparty…” He trailed off as Danny laughed and pulled Jason in for another kiss.

“Add Roy to the list of people we’re picking up and absolutely! I think we have to call ahead to make an appointment though. And I have a little more to do here, can I drop you off at home to call the courthouse and get those flowers? I’ll finish up here and come join you as soon as I can?” He asked hopefully.

“You got it Moonlight,” Jason agreed easily. 

“You’re the best, Boss,” Danny teased laughingly and Jason rolled his eyes. 

“Keep that nickname for the bedroom now Cub,” Jason replied, pushing Danny away for just a  moment before pulling him back in as Danny purred.

“Tonight?” He suggested hopefully. 

“Tonight,” Jason agreed and they kissed one more time before Danny ripped open a portal for Jason to head home with both of their tasks assigned. 

Danny threw himself back into work, doing what he could do. He dismissed the souls that Pariah owned, and set the ones that wouldn’t or couldn’t leave to cleaning the castle with strict orders to take regular breaks if they’re tired, and maybe try a couple hobbies as long as it doesn’t bother anyone else. That’s the best he can do for now. It’s going to be slow going until everyone he loves can join him in this world, and this time they actually will. None of them will be killed with ecto weapons which simultaneously destroy bodies and souls, he will never have to lose this family like he did his last one, no one will. 

He arrived home while Jason was halfway through making dinner, and got to hear about Jason’s day. He cooked and told Danny excitedly how he had called the courthouse and managed to get an appointment for the afternoon after next, and he’d called their family and everyone would be able to come! Including Dan who hadn’t gone so far that Ellie couldn’t catch up to him and ask him to come back for the wedding. Jason laughed as he told Danny Dan had been relieved to hear there was going to be a smaller wedding so he’d have an excuse not to attend the bigger ones later! 

Their home was warm and cozy, their safe nest just the two of them and any stress Danny had been feeling melted away. He couldn’t wait to eat, he couldn’t wait to spend the night with Jason, he couldn’t wait to get married in a couple of days! There was so much to look forward to, so much in a life, an eternity, of people that he loved. He couldn’t say he didn’t regret what had happened to his first family. But with Pariah gone, the GIW on the run, and Jason at his side Danny could say he was finally, and unequivocally, happy.

[anika-ann]

Take the Ache - pt.3

Part 3: The Soul in Soldier On

Type: series, slightly canon-divergent, idiots in love with sprinkles of angst

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word Count: 6950

Series masterlist (and summary)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, near-death experience, Steve raising his voice, slight angst, communication skills that need some improvement, language

A/N: written for Stella’s Starry Winter Sky challenge, using various prompts; DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; the title is, just like chapter titles, taken from The Script’s No Good in Goodbye

A/N 2:  No use of Y/N. Main character’s nickname made up by Steve is 'Lo (will be expalined at some point, promise). Thank you for reading so far and enjoy 💕

Steve’s glare – that near-murderous glare you had believed only to be reserved for the likes of HYDRA or Tony when he was being overly unreasonable – hurt.

You might not be willing to admit it, but the ache from having it directed on you was so acute it made it hard for you to breathe.

You had thought you had braced yourself enough, having counted on Steve not being happy when you’d step inside the Quinjet – but clearly you had not.

Seeing him again was like a slap to the face and for once it had nothing to do with jealousy – it was simply his look. The flames in his blue irises burned so icily when he watched you stride in with a box of equipment that you might as well get a frostbite in their pyre. His disapproval of you showing up mere minutes before the jet would head straight into the lion’s den again was crystal clear; and he didn’t even know half of it.

But he was not the only one whose emotions were burning like a wildfire.

It had been long two days for all of you.

Two days of gathering more intel, of training, of Natasha recovering not only in the cradle but also in physical therapy. Two days of having your nose buried in the dismantled EMP and the ruin it had caused, two days of cooperating with the applied sciences department, two nights of next to no sleep; that was how little time you had. You hadn’t even considered actually repairing the destroyed gear for your team as there were more pressing issues; after all, with the exception of Steve’s shield, you had an extra piece of everything. Examining the nature of the damage done was much more important than repairs themselves.

Because the damage done could be hiding the key to preventing another hit and if you were lucky, reversing the effects of the EMP.

The good news was that you were rather confident that you had found the key; now you just had to make it work.

The bad news was that time truly was a luxury.

You didn’t have a second to spare. The Avengers including Sharon were heading to face the rogue HYDRA agents from very fraction that had knocked out your equipment with the bloody EMP now.

The mere idea of letting them face it again without help was suffocating. However, the fact they were to fight the same people who had hurt Nat through your invention, even if indirectly, had the cold of your fear burst into blazing determination.

And the fact Steve looked like he was going to block your path and prevent you from doing your job of protecting them, his shoulders squaring upon seeing you instead of gracing you with one of his usual warm smiles, was almost enough for your growing anger to swallow the hurt. He could brace all he wanted; there was no way he could ever make you sit back on your ass at the compound, when the solution – a shield of its own – was at your fingertips.

And if he did think he could stop you, well he'd better think again.

Disapproval bounced off of each of you like a damn ping-pong ball even before either of you opened your mouth, but as much as you cared for Steve – a lot more than was comfortable or even bearable – you were not going to take whatever bullshit he was about to throw at you.

Because this wasn’t about him. Not only.

And while you knew all too well that he was a force of nature moulded into a shape of a man, you knew that not even Tony’s Mark 63 would be able to drag you back to your lab at the moment.

“What are you doing here?”

You winced at Steve’s sharp tone, swallowing the ‘hello to you too’; and cursing internally as even in your state of mind and heart, you could not not notice the beautifully cut features of his face as if standing out thanks to his own distress.

You wished he at least wasn’t so distractingly gorgeous when he was about to pick a fight with you; his nearly unearthly beauty was almost more absurd than the fact he of all people was picking up a fight with you.

Your closest friend – the man whose company you longed for in any form, your heart yearning for his arms around you, his tender fingers in your hair, his lips on yours – was mad at you for showing up. You were aware his turbulent emotions probably had little to do with your person and more with concern for the safety of his team, but that didn’t make your ribcage ache any less. Because no matter how silly your dreams and dust of hopes were, you were friends. And despite the pressure you knew Steve felt, you wished he would have treated you more like your friend Steve and less like the Captain and the head strategist of the Avengers Initiative.

But you couldn’t have all that you’d wish, could you? You had already established that. And that as fine. It was dandy, because time was a luxury you did not have and thus you could not spend the precious entity on wallowing in your sad little feelings.

Still, your gaze instinctively flickered to the person who had actually invited you here despite your best efforts not to and to stand your ground on your own instead.

Steve’s glare followed your line of sight, his jaw set so tight it might cut glass.

“What the hell is she doing here, Tony?” he demanded, the words barely making it through his grinding teeth.

“Jesus, Steve, have some manners…” Bucky muttered under his breath on your right, but Steve paid him no more mind than to you all of sudden.

He was too busy seething.

His hands were curled into fists, drawing attention to just how nice his hands looked in the fingerless gloves that might have not been a fashion statement, but sure were an art in their own right. It was maddening, really-

Tony only sighed as he made his way to your pair nonchalantly, crossing his arms on his chest.

“Why Steve, Heron’s here because she’s been designing a weapon that could withstand the EMP hit –or better yet, reverse it,” Tony informed him, shooting you an encouraging smile that seemed to irritate Steve further.

Steve’s reaction, in turn, irritated you; your emotions, having already been on edge for days, threatened to spill over. Again.

“Great. So she can hand it over and stay in the lab-“

“Stay safe, you mean,” Sam suggested helpfully, earning an icy glare that could scorch the earth.

“Yes, safe,” Steve echoed. “That’s my whole point-“

“You have a funny way of making that point then,” you interjected, your heart skipping a startled beat when Steve’s gaze snapped back to you.

Even as you caught the slightest flicker of shame in his features, you winced again and swiftly averted the weight of smouldering gaze.

It wasn’t that you were scared of him, of the power you knew hummed under the surface, of the knowledge he could just could snap you in half – if anything, that thought made your heart beat even wilder, unnervingly so, because you so did not have time nor mental capacity to deal with that, nor with the way he looked so majestic and righteous in the stealth suit – but the lack of gentleness and understanding you were used to was like a heartburn you did not know how to swallow.

Even with a job to do, you weren’t sure how to hold you head high.

You couldn’t turn off your emotions when the situation demanded it like most people on this jet; after all, you were not an agent, which, obviously, was the whole damn problem.

So she can hand it over and stay in the lab, Steve had all but spitted.

It shouldn’t have stung so sharp but it had.

“It’s not ready yet,” you explained, voice less steady than you’d like. “I need more time. Hopefully I’ll have it prepared by the time we land and can give you a fairer fighting chance by knocking out their biggest weapon-- but I need time for that,” you added when Steve opened his mouth to protest, your determination finally rendering your tone uncompromising. “So I’m coming with you, whether you authorised it or not, because you don’ hold all the power there is. Deal with it.”

Steve’s jaw ticked the tinniest bit; as you dared to meet his gaze, the emotions in his irises raged like a sea disturbed from its peace by a violent storm with your name.

He leaned in, lips parted with an invitation to be kissed or argued with – but as he sucked in a breath, a new voice, soft but resolute, joined the conversation from your left, causing your gut to clench uncomfortably and your eyes burn with something else than determination.

“Oookay, alright. Why don’t we all take a breath and think for a bit. We need to go over the plan again anyway,” Sharon said.

You did take a deep breath.

You did so even as it felt like you were stranded in a desert and the sight of Steve’s shoulders slumping a bit, his expression softening with concern just a fraction as if he was finally reacting to a voice of reason just because it was Sharon’s, made you feel like the air you breathed in was full of grains of sand, stinging and scratching in your lungs.

You cleared your throat and pretended to be brave in face of heartache and being on a jet which would head in direction of trained killers, nodding to yourself as you tightened your grip on the box in your arms.

“I need to get working. Excuse me.”

As you pushed past suddenly speechless Steve, Tony gracefully offering to carry the equipment for you, you’d swear you heard Bucky mumble ‘great job, punk,’ and Steve damn-near growl in return with a gratuitous ‘fuck’ on his lips.

Your stomach had swung at the take-off, the reality of the danger you were heading towards slowly sheeting you as you had settled at your make-shift workshop, trying to ignore the low voices discussing the plan of attack. However, your nerves had quickly dispersed, replaced by the acute need to get things done; because you had maybe minutes. You had been but a mere step from finishing the ‘EMP eater’ – patent pending – and your only chance was to finish it in time.

And you did.

When the weapon’s control light flickered to life, an astonished gasp left your lips, automatically curling up in a victorious smile, your heart fluttering with familiar excitement.

Eureka!

You did it.

Fucking take that, HYDRA. You’ll be eating dust, you bit back, smirking.

Hell yeah you did that. You got the EMP reflector – and perhaps that was a better name – ready in time.

If only the euphoria spreading in your veins wasn’t iced down so soon with the realization of what the next phase was.

Because next phase in development of anything was testing.

You had all the faith you could afford in your invention, always had, but you had one clear rule you’d push for come hell or high water:

You would never let anyone face the enemy with an untested prototype.

You gulped at the unfamiliar tickle of panic in the back of your throat, your gaze flickering to Tony who was still talking to Steve, Mr. Butt-headed Head Strategist himself. You heart threatened to give out with how fiercely it thundered against your sternum, but you knew you had no choice.

Calling out Tony’s name lowly earned you two pairs of eyes on you; one curious, the other sharp. While Tony made his way to you, Steve turned to Sharon and you’d swear that in that moment, you barely cared about the fact he turned to her like a goddamn sunflower to the sun. You were a little too taken by the fact it took Tony once glance at you to know.

You and Tony had never really understood each other without words, which had everything to do with the fact he was the definition of hyperverbal; but today you did.

You got it, didn’t you.

Yes.

Is it time then? his eyes inquired, concern drawing his eyebrows together even as it could not quite hide the flash of mischief and excitement in his irises.

You nodded, even as the movement was shaky. Yeah, Tony. It’s time. …I’m terrified, but it’s time.

Eu-fucking-reka.

The fact your knees still felt a little weak a few minutes later, now dressed to the part and clinging to your little device like a lifeline, did not make approaching Steve any easier.

He took one glance at you, his eyes going almost comically wide with shock before they regained the fiery rejection from earlier; blew it to proportion, in fact.

Steve Rogers was a tall man, but as his spine straightened with indignation, he seemed to grow another five inches, his hands curling into fists so tight you were sure that had his forearm not be covered, his tendons would all be on full display with the powerful clench, which would be a sight to beho--- so not the time.

You inhaled shakily as his face seemed void of any emotion bar the simple resolute no written all over.

“You’re not serious. You’re not coming with us into the field-“

“None of you can operate this weapon, Steve,” you blurted out before he could protest further. Mostly because it’s a prototype I haven’t tested yet and I’d never fucking let you touch an untested weapon, you nearly added, hoping that much was obvious. “I can. And Tony gave me protective gear-”

“Seriously, Stark?” Steve snapped to the man and you regretted having mention Tony even as your intention had merely been to give credit where it was due and express your gratitude, rather than shift the focus of Steve’s – partially understandable – anger. “You just happen to keep gear and Kevlar lying around to fit her perfectly.”

Tony, for his part, was perfectly nonchalant again, which you knew would only pissed off Steve further; but you had to admit it was a little funny to watch him be so when he was speaking on your behalf. It certainly was a welcomed distraction from the deep pit inside your stomach that had formed there the second you realized you had not, in fact, had any other option that to go face bloody HYDRA agents.

“Of course not. I don’t just happen, Rogers. We’ve worked on it together specifically to make it fit her and her needs, just in case she ever did need to come with us to the field. My idea. What can I say, I’m a visionary. You’re welcome.”

“That’s never meant to be an option! She’s not--- I can’t-“ Steve’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he averted Tony’s challenging gaze, his chest expanding rapidly and deflating as his eyes flickered briefly over you only to return to Tony himself. “Did you give a single thought to her safety? What if we can’t protect her out there?”

You gulped. The sentiment was very sweet and echoed your own fear; but it had nothing on a fear much greater, one that had anger at Natasha having been hurt and at Steve talking about you as if you weren’t standing right there simmer in your lungs.

“Well then we’re not much of mighty heroes, are we?” Tony shot back, one corner of his lips quirking in a smirk that alone had Steve bristle before Tony even continued. “But sure, if you hate the gear I made so much, we can just give her a simple bulletproof vest and a helmet that doesn’t really fit-”

If Steve had glared at you murderously when you had bordered the jet, right now, Tony was being murdered by the most painful and slowest death possible.

Not that it made him as much as flinch.

Briefly, you wondered if a few years of glares like that from Steve would make you just as immune; you hoped to never find out. Though as with the current state of your relationship with Steve, it seemed you just might.

You could almost see the wheels in his head turning, all the alternatives projecting in his head like a movie about goddamn time-loops, tens of versions of reality changing based on his decision, going through every possible outcome, possible risks and potential damage, his strategic mind carding through the scenarios and frantically searching for the one with least danger to his team.

And you knew exactly which option he’d have to choose, inevitably coming to the same conclusion as you had, but you still held your breath, your heartbeat seemingly filling the space of the jet.

You straightened as if jolt of electricity ran up your spine when Steve’s eyes suddenly turned to you, your nerves at the serious stare he casted your way making words come out before you could think twice.

“Oh, so you know I’m actually standing right he-“

“You don’t disobey a single order,” Steve said flatly. “You never stay alone. You don’t do any unexpected moves. If you get hurt, if you get as much as goddamn scratch, I will hold you personally responsible. Do you understand that, Heron?”

“Yes, Captain,” you said automatically, wishing you could say you sounded sassy like Tony would, but you did not.

You were too consumed by shame at what Steve’s Captain voice did to you even when you were at odds with him. And too scared and too stunned by the fact he actually did agree with you going.

Steve did not seem satisfied with your answer, taking a step closer. Tony, bless him, somehow got the hint for once –being oh so satisfied with winning so easy too, no doubt – and disappeared into the depths of the Quinjet.

You, in turn, gulped as Steve loomed over you.

“Steve, I-“

“Lo, I’m serious.”

“Yeah, like a heart attack, I know-“

“No, you don’t,” Steve interjected matter-of-factly, something so familiar and gentle creeping into his voice, making your breath hitch and the rest of the world fade away. “I-- we cannot have you hurt, we cannot lose you. I know you work with weapons, I know you know this, but the people we’re about to face have no conscience and they won’t hesitate to shoot to k-…”

He licked his lips and lowered his gaze as if he couldn’t bring himself to say the word that had your temples throb with fear.

And then, your own fear seemed to dissipate into thin air, just like you knew it would if Steve had only touched you and unwittingly lent you some of his strength and bravery. With tenderness contrasting almost absurdly with his previous outbursts, he placed his palms on your shoulders, their warmth seeping into your skin even through Kevlar, his gaze boring into yours with urgency that had your heart flutter. His voice, as if following the lead of his touch, grew softer as well, almost pleading.

“If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to do this. Just give us the… whatever brilliant device you created and walk us through it. I can-“

“I want to do this, Steve,” you opposed, relaxing slightly at his offer – one you knew you couldn’t accept, for so many reasons, but welcomed it nevertheless, the outstanding prove of his care for you you had craved so much. “They hurt Nat. They hurt my friend, and could have killed her. They could have killed all of you and I won’t stand for that.”

His gaze roamed your face, frows furrowed worry that had every cell in your body shudder, something soft and warm humming inside your chest – and for a moment, you granted yourself a few seconds of revelling in that feeling. Basking in Steve’s proximity, his sincere concern for your safety that seemed to reach beyond you being under his command; and all that pain of the past weeks felt so silly all of sudden, your heart a fool not for having fallen for him, but for avoiding him and trying to push away the sweet ache of being hopelessly in love with him.

His thumb ran gently over the curve of your shoulder, squeezing lightly as he took a deep breath, his voice heavy with gravity.

“You stay with at least one of us at all times. Anyone starts shooting, you duck, you hide, you listen-“

“-and don’t disobey a single order, yes, I heard you the first time.”

The sound of your name on his lips was coloured by exasperation and urgency, his hands flexing on your shoulders. You instinctively covered his hand on your right shoulder, the tender gesture causing him to relax slightly, an emotion etched onto his face you had trouble deciphering with how busy you were with calming your racing heart, humming contentedly at his proximity after having been pushing him away.

“Steve. I get it. I did hear you,” you whispered, a lame attempt at a joke rising one corner of your lips in a lopsided smile even as it was the furthest thing from fun: “Unlike some people on this plane, I don’t have a death wish-”

From a terrible distance, Bucky’s cough clearly covering a laugh reached you, flushing your cheeks with realization of the – dare to say intimate – exchange between you and Steve being observed by others.

And yet; you didn’t care zilch for anyone watching when Steve’s right hand shifted, now resting on the curve between your throat and shoulder, thumb accidentally brushing your jaw, causing you to gulp at the profound sincerity in his gaze and words alike.

“Noted, but please understand. I’m not--- I’m sorry I’ve been so short with you, Lo. It’s not that I don’t trust you. I—you just… you haven’t been trained for this. I’m worried about you.”

A vacuum born in a middle of an aircraft.

Someone must have sucked out all the air out of the space of the jet, that was the only explanation for why your chest felt so full, so heavy and so light at once.

Hypnotized by Steve’s gaze, you’d swear you could drown in the gentle blue of his irises, your only salvation being the warmth still radiating off his palms and the expression on his face, which had at some point drawn rather close to yours. Your head was spinning as tip of his thumb almost, almost angled your head up to make sure you held his gaze. Almost as if he was cradling your jaw to kiss you-

“I worry about you every day,” fell from your lips unwittingly, the flash of something in Steve’s expression starling you and causing you to inhale shakily. “Uhm, I mean… about all of you. But, uhm I-- I’ll be fine. I have the mightiest heroes to protect me while I try to protect them.”

“Yes,” he whispered, a statement and an oath. “Yes you do.”

You have us. You have me.

For the briefest moment, Steve appeared to be contemplating the greatest mysteries of life and universe, holding you gaze with such intent you’d believe he had found the answers to them right there in your eyes, your lips parting as breath caught in your throat. His gaze flickering down and back up. His own pretty pink lips pursed the tinniest bit as if in invitation – or perhaps you were imagining things, you had to be – and to hell with everything, you were seconds from leaning closer just to find out if they were as soft as they appeared and as you had always imagined.

And then you heard someone draw in a cautious breath, reality settling in and you withdrew, seeing Sharon from the corner of your eye leaning onto the near stack of boxes, the sight like a bucket of icy water poured into your lungs, Steve’s hands sliding from your shoulders, one of them hovering by your arm.

You could smack yourself.

You could touch a living wire and it would not be enough of a punishment for allowing yourself to get wrapped up in a little fantasy world, in the castles in the air Steve’s soft words and touch had drawn in perfect detail despite not giving another promise than to protect you like he would for anyone.

Idiot. Stupid, foolish little idiot, what were you thinking, even indulging in a feeling like this-

“I’ll do it,” Steve said as if knowing exactly what Sharon was about to say and it should have been like another slap to your face. But for all your scolding and your racing heart that had begun to ache all over again, you cared little for the future lovers’ telepathy, only caring about the strange emotion, deep even if undecipherable, etched into Steve’s features. Caring about how the ‘I’ll do it’ sounded like it had less to do with a Captain being responsible for his subordinates’ safety and more about his loved ones, romantic or platonic ones. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll brief her and then let you guys know if there any changes.”

It was silly and you knew sobering up would hurt; but in order to not fall apart at the thought of going somewhere where HYDRA agents would shoot at you, you allowed the petty victory of Steve taking care of you personally and caring wash over you, charming up a small reassuring smile.

“Thank you, Steve.”

Your smile slightly widened as Steve, walking you through the plan and blueprints, demanded at least three times if you were sure and whether the Kevlar-lined uniform and the cowl were good enough quality.

You forgave him the foolish question, mostly offended on Tony’s behalf rather than your own; but mainly grateful he still cared enough to ask.

From the corner of your eye, you caught Sam’s smirk and Bucky elbowing him to the ribs as if to stop it.

Walking into enemy territory with the Avengers felt like entering the most surreal of dreams.

In your own uniform and with your own – dare to say – weapon, perhaps you might fool someone into believing that you belonged; which was even more surreal that the fact you were here in the first place.

And yet, the most surreal of all things was the fact that you not only appeared to be but actually also felt strangely, deceivingly calm; and if not calm, than certainly less nervous that you had expected.

You assumed you had Steve to thank for that.

Just like with the briefing, he took it upon himself to be the closest to your side, to act like your main shield, figuratively and literally.

With him, he brought a wave of reassurance rising like a tide to wash over the exposed edge you’d find yourself on, the whisper of safe growing louder whenever the lightest of touch of a hand brushed over your side, your arm, whenever the advance allowed him to do so.

It warmed your rapidly beating heart, increasing the whoosh of blood past your ears, despite the logical part of your brain telling you that his decision wasn’t only a personal one, but also a strategic one.

He was the one most likely to protect you even if the EMP hit before you could use the device.

You had tried to lace Tony’s suit with as similar EMP-resistant alloy as the applied sciences could develop with the weapons you had got your hands on, but it was no guarantee – and without his full control over the suit, he might be relatively safe, but unable to properly defend anyone else.

Bucky’s vibranium arm was a fine complicated net of connectors, inductors and well-integrated circuits that might have been made to withstand physical force, but less so an EMP hit.

Sam’s wings too could turn into a nuisance upon the discharge. Sharon was a separate entity as her task was to hack into the network and let you all in with Clint as a back-up. Bruce was, in Steve’s opinion, a little too unpredictable. And Natasha was still recovering, left to remotely help you coordinate from the compound if needed.

On the other hand, Steve’s only three pieces of electronics were his StarkWatch, the comms and the sleeve with electromagnets for his shield which was more of a question of comfort than a necessity.

Him becoming your designated guardian was a natural choice.

And it was all turning out almost dandy.

Sharon hacked in. Clint had all of your sixes. No sight of an EMP as per Tony’s scanners, not yet anyway. You advanced through the building, relatively quiet and stealthy, your team’s voices in your ear and Steve’s occasional touch grounding you as your heart kept picking up its pace the deeper into the facility you went, your breaths turning shaky, your stomach beginning to coil uncomfortably with a warning from an instinct as old as humanity.

And then it all went to shit.

Steve leaving your side shouting at you to take cover in a large space of a warehouse where there was barely anything to hide behind.

Flashes and terrible cacophony of gunshots.

Metal hitting metal.

Bodies hitting the ground.

Wet sounds of blood following dull punches to what must have been bone.

Sparks flying and your vision instinctively blurring with distressed tears as your heartbeat grew so loud and frantic it nearly swallowed the terrible noise of a battle.

And yet, one thing pierced through like a lightning through the skies.

“Heron, now!”

Two simple words, spoken urgently over the comms, Clint’s voice with an unmistakable tinge of pain.

You winced, the sound cutting through you like a knife.

They needed you.

They needed you now, because your name wasn’t a warning but a prompt. A plea. The EMP was here again. And it was about to be discharged and your friends were about to be rendered powerless and made vulnerable.

Well, not in this fucking life. Not on my watch.

You scrambled to move from behind your improvised hide-out, the metallic edge of your EMP dampener digging into your palms painfully as you peeked over the shelves stuffed with containers.

For a moment, the sight of the fight stopped you short in horror, the only thing circuiting and rebooting painfully fast being your brain, a sharp haziness taking over your perception.

And for that split second, you wondered if this was how Steve saw the world with his enhanced senses; it hit you all at once, a cacophony of a battle captured in a slowly moving image.

The copper smell of blood and gunpowder; the still noise of violence; the salty tang of sweat and the bitter taste of adrenalin on your tongue; the weight of your own device nearly succumbing to gravity at the sudden weakness in your hands.

Tens of agents clad in black with a startingly red symbol on their biceps.

Automatic electricity-powered riffles. 

The EMP whose every fucking circuit you knew like the back of your hand by now.

The Avengers, standing almost in line like avenging angels, way closer to you than you had thought as they had taken down all of those who had come at them before – real, unconscious, hurt people scattered across the floor.

All of your friends breathing heavily from exertion; and some of them in the air.

Perhaps it was the adrenalin, but you’d swear you could hear the EMP charging, ready to be fired, and the world stopped altogether. A still image pulsing in sync with your own heartbeat.

Tony and Sam in the air.

Bucky clenching his metal fist.

Clint reaching behind him to grab another arrow his automatic quiver offered him.

Sharon wearing Natasha’s new bites.

All of them but mere seconds from being knocked down – some more literally than others.

Not in this fucking life.

Not on my fucking watch.

You were not sure if you truly were so fast, perhaps having borrowed some supersoldier speed; or if the world around you truly turned so slow.

But you sprang from behind the containers and fell on your knees, the pain not quite registering as you slid just under Sam’s feet.

You punched the button on your dampener with all your might, the blue control light turning green a split second after the crackling sound of electricity rushed through your body.

An elementary knowledge said: when everything works as well and safe as it’s supposed to, electricity is meant to be invisible.

And yet.

You saw it.

You felt it.

And it hurt.

You’d swear you could see the wave of the EMP discharge meet the wave sent by your dampener halfway, if a little closer to your part of the room.

The part of the room you had been in before the burning current of pain rushed from your hand through your arm straight into your chest and sent you flying backwards, a dull sound of someone shouting your name reaching you from a terrible distance.

There was fire licking at your veins, a crushing weight settling on your chest, a blur of gorgeous dark blue moving like a shadow behind your eyelids despite your eyes remaining wide open.

The phantom sound of your name haunted your ears over your own heartbeat punching like a sledgehammer inside of your skull. Someone’s gentle but urgent touch was on your arms, squeezing and you realised your lips were moving just as urgently, your words hopefully making sense – even as they didn’t seem to make sense to you at the moment.

“Go. Go, I don’t know--- how long they will-- be done— down.”

The EMP. The dampener, you thought you meant.

If all the gods and patron saints of science and technology aligned and blessed you, you had managed to not only protect your friends from the hit, but sent the very hit back at the bastards who had fired it, disabling their own weapons.

The voice and the grounding touch disappeared with reluctance and a frustrated grunt; the weight on your chest stayed.

Were you breathing? Your lungs burned, so you probably were.

But were you?

Your back laid on something solid and cold and uncomfortably hard; but you had the perfect view of the blurs and chaos in front of you. A wall then, not the floor.

The chaos. The noise. Sledgehammer inside your skull.

Useless, hungry sucks of breath.

Punches. Fire. Cracks.

Flurry of movements; someone always appeared to be in front of you to block your hazy view. To protect you.

But that didn’t really matter, because you couldn’t breathe.

It felt like a damn quinjet was sitting on your sternum and was not about to take off.

Where had all the air gone?

A pair of pretty blue eyes attracting your gaze like a magnet, pulling you into its orbit with inevitability.

Warm leather and hot skin brushing against your cheeks a your cowl was pushed back – by Steve’s palms, you thought – fingers spreading to cradle your head, keeping your face upright and helping you to hold his gaze. What a gentleman.

Now if he could just get you some air too. Maybe from his own lips, they seemed so close and so far away.

“Talk to me, Lo. Tell me what-“

His voice was really pretty, that commanding tilt to it that would have made your head spin if it wasn’t already spinning like crazy.

“Sent it back-“ you rasped, your lips feeling strangely dry and tingly, but it didn’t matter, because Steve was asking a question and Steve had to be answered to. “The frequency should have--- reverse it and--- penetrate the mat-- material you-- brought me.” You were sure you drew in a breath but the air was not there, where was it--- Steve seemed to be alright, even if a little scared – or was he proud? Why was shaking his head? “Turning the discharge--- against them.”

You tried to gather strength to cough to release the pressure in your lungs; one of Steve’s hand must have moved from your face, because the warmth disappeared from one of your cheeks and it reappeared like a rather painful squeeze on your shoulder.

Your coughing didn’t work. You tried to breathe in –but it was not working.

It was not working.

“Lo, sweetheart, not what I meant. You need to slow down your breathing-“

“Can’t-“ breathe at all, you heard yourself wheeze, confused by Steve’s insane request to breathe less.

A firm grasp on your wrist pulled your attention form the lovely sea of panicked blue, a curse reaching your ears, a pull on your wrist as Steve tore your StarkWatch away, a blur of quick dextrous fingers pulling off his glove and taking of his watch too, putting the latter back on your wrist instead.

Were his hands blurry because you had tears in your eyes, because he was moving so fast, or because his hands were shaking? It looked a little like they were shaking. Your vision was closing off from its edges, however, so that might have been your imagination.

“FRIDAY, run the analysis--- Lo, does your chest hurt?”

You were vaguely aware of your heavy hand, the one Steve wasn’t holding, gesturing somewhat, glad he finally fucking noticed.

“Can’t--- breathe-“

“Agent of codename Heron is experiencing a severe arrhythmia-“

Oh okay that explains a lot, screamed your mind with surprising clarity, the world around Steve gaining sharper edges for a brief moment. There was the red and gold of Tony’s suit somewhere on your left, the glint of Sam’s wings near him too.

“What can I do, FRIDAY?” Steve barked, sharp and with an unfamiliar edge that sounded a whole lot like fear that would have grown in your chest too had there been any space left under the crushing weight sitting on it already.

“Immediate medical evac recommended, with an AED and medical personnel at hand for the duration of the transport, and-“

You could hear the words sharply now, see Steve’s features twist, but none of it seemed to make sense as despite the haze dispersing, darkness began to swallow the edges of your vision again.

Nothing made sense anymore but the terrified blue of Steve’s eyes.

Then, a wild swing of your body.

The star on Steve’s chest.

The unforgiving yet soft material of his suit.

His voice.

“Stay with me, Lo. Keep your eyes, open, sweetheart. We’re gonna get you home safe… You’re going to be fine… you’ll be okay, you’ll be okay…”

But you weren’t okay.

You knew as much.

Just like you knew, somewhere in the strangely clear space in your empty skull echoing your frantic heartbeat that this was your own fault. You had been stubborn and you had wanted to protect your friends and you had rules you refused to break and it had been the right thing to do but maybe you had been a little eager to prove Steve wrong and to prove yourself.

It worked out the best and worst way possible.

“Look at me, Lo, come on! Don’t do this to me!”

But you weren’t. It already had been done. And you couldn’t take it back.

And somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that you wouldn’t if given the chance. Not really.

And so this mission – the way this fight had turned out – was killing you.

Literally.

You couldn’t breathe.

It hurt too much.

All you saw was the navy blue of Steve’s stealth suit, the silver of the star on his chest, the almost watery cerulean of his eyes shining with something so unusual for him, fear, no, terror. Your chest ached with ever attempt at a breath, numbness flushing through your veins, the memory of his gloved hand cradling your cheek and speaking words that sounded like a white noise machine turned to max and thrown under water haunting you, the ghost of his urgent touch still tickling your face.

He was speaking still. You recognized your name with difficulty, the sweet nickname whispered hoarsely as a slightly mechanical voice reported numbers that made no sense beyond ringing alarm bells and accelerating the movement of the world around you.

Other voices joined, emotions clearer than words, sounding like curses and prayers at once. A flash of Steve’s face white as a sheet of paper in your vision before harsh light replaced it, stinging in your heavy eyes, an unbearable high-pitched beeping causing your head to swim. 

And then there was darkness, wrapping you greedily in its soothing arms, in silence.

The gaping darkness that swallowed Steve as he laid your nearly limp body on the stretcher, on the other hand, was everything but soothing and silent.

And when the heart monitor his own trembling hands had helped to hook you on screamed with the absence of a normal, then sufficient, and then any heartbeat, losing the solid ground under his feet had nothing to do with the jet taking off, and everything to do with the person he loved being taken away.

He held his breath under the icy waters of pure terror until your own wasn’t restored an eternity later.

Steve swore was going to kill you himself later for giving him a scare like that. But for now, ass planted on the floor of the quinjet, head in his still unsteady hands, he let the now present beeps signalling your heartbeat wash over him, letting the few tears that escaped him wash away the images etched forever into his supersoldier brain.

Next chapter // Series masterlist

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

Thank you for reading, loves! Thoughts, encouragements and reblogs are always appreciated ✨

I hope your days are full of softness and peace of mind 💕

If you’d like to be notified on updates, follow my other blog @anika-ann-writes or let me know for a tag.

[thevoidstaredback]

Part 1

Danny woke up with the sun. Vlad would still be in bed for a few hours yet, so he had more than enough time to deck out the entire house and garden, with help from the ghosts, of course.

He planned to meet the others in the back gardens with some food to make sure nothing would go wrong.

Pandora, Dora, and Dani were the first three there, waiting for him already. And, as he set out the food none of them needed but would eat anyway, Johnny and Kitty showed up. Ember, Box Lunch, Youngblood, Poindexter, and Skulker came together. Walker, Desiree, Fright Knight, The Vultures, Blob Ghosts, and Spectra showed up separately, though in near quick succession. Frostbite, Undergroth, and Ghost Writer had wanted to come along, too, but would only be able to be there for the party itself.

All week, the guests had been arriving and staying in Madison, Wisconsin. They hadn't been able to house anyone because Vlad was going to be the very last to know, so they'd used his money to rent out a hotel for the week of the gala, including another day afterwards.

"Plasmius still doesn't know, right?" Ember asked as soon as everyone had gathered.

Dani started cackling. "Nope!"

"He's suspicious, though," Vulture One said.

"We think he probably noticed the money for the hotel." Vulture Three added.

"He hasn't done anything more than passing glares, though," Danny pointed out.

"He's not said anything?"

"Nope."

"Perfect!" Spectra smiled, "How're you going to break it to him tonight?"

"Well," he started, "I was thinking I play it off as if he was the one to plan it."

"Oh?" Pandora raised her eyebrow, "That won't be easy."

"Sure it will!" Poindexter shouted, "Plasmius is so old, that his memory's going!"

Youngblood was nodding enthusiastically. "We can even have his suit set out for him and everything!"

"What have you done with the acceptance letters?" Dora wondered.

"They're hidden in my closet," Dani said.

Skulker hummed. "And I've taken care of any emails or messages sent to his phone and computer. All went straight to the kid."

Danny snickered. "This is gonna be so much fun!

"Hell yeah!" Johnny cheered.

Fright Knight cleared his throat. "Any last minute arrangements that need taken care of?"

The group paused for a minute, all of them thinking. Finally, Danny said, "Well, other than finally decorating the place, we'll need to get food- We forgot caterers!"

"I can handle that," Desiree said, "Just this once, though," She snapped her fingers and a paper contract appeared in Walker's hand. "Since you're head of security, you should probably hold onto the contracts."

Walker nodded, tucking the papers into his coat. "We'll have some of the Blob Ghosts with us at the gates. Fright will watch the front and I'll take the back. Skulker will be in the security room, and the Vultures will take the rest of the Blobs and watch the skies."

"Why're we even goin' so far f'r dese peoples' 'afety?" Box Lunch, who had only been able to speak for just over a year and was doing fantastically, asked. "They're just rich. Do dey have and re-rede- good tings 'bout 'em?"

Dora chuckled, quieting the others with a glare. "Everyone has redeeming qualities, sweetheart."

"Kitty?" Dani dragged out the word as she asked.

"Almost everyone," Dora corrected swiftly, "Besides, it'll look bad if anyone gets hurt while we're hosting them."

"Speaking of," Pandora spoke up, "Is everyone here going to be attending tonight?"

Youngblood tilted his head to the side. "What'd'ya mean?"

Spectra flipped her hair, which was straight down her back today, over her shoulder. "Only so many of us have human disguises. It's not like we blend in well with the living."

"Well, can't everyone just stay invisible the whole night?" Vulture Two suggested.

"And miss out on all the fun?" Dani almost yelled, "No way!"

Danny hummed. "Our security team has to be here, and may even need to make an appearance. At least Walker and Frighty will have to be disguised."

"Manageable," Fright Knight nodded.

"Got it," Walker agreed.

"Great. Anyone wanting to be guests will have to be disguised as well," Dora pointed out.

"Writer, Frostbite, Undergrowth, and I all have that covered," Pandora said, "Dora, Spectra, Ember, Johnny, and Kitty will all be able to pass as living."

"What about us?" Poindexter glared. He didn't want to be left out of all the fun, and was pretty sure Box Lunch and Youngblood didn't, either.

Dani leaned on his shoulder. "You three will just get to come hang out with me and Wulf in the Keep."

Youngblood's eyes had stars in them as he whipped around and stared at her. "We get to play in the keep?!"

"That'll go well," Spectra laughed.

"I'll stay with them," Dora said.

"You sure?" Danny asked.

"Of course," she nodded, "While being here would be fun, I don't think Wulf is quite ready to handle four trickster spirits."

"And you being there will somehow be better? Neither of you are protectors."

No, but I am a caretaker spirit. And, as long as they don't go anywhere near the catacombs," she shot a serious look at the four children, "I'm sure we'll be fine."

"Alright," Danny accepted, "but Jazz, Tuck, and Sam will probably be ready to help if you need it, okay?"

"Much appreciated."

"What do we still need to do?" Kitty asked.

"Skulker, Walker, Fright Knight, the Vultures, and the Blobs are all on security, so you should all probably start setting that up," Pandora said. They agreed and disappeared. "Ember will handle music, right?"

She waved her hand will a nod, "You got it. Boring, old people classics coming right up."

"Johnny, are you okay with taking over valet?"

"I get to drive other people's cars, right?"

"As long as you don't crash them," Danny added.

"Sure," he smirked, "But I can still prank them, right?"

Danny sighed, but nodded.

"Yes!"

"Kitty-"

"I'll watch over the kitchen," she said.

Pandora nodded once. "Spectra? Desiree?"

"I'll go in as an actual guest," Spectra's smile spelled mischief.

Desiree matched her with a grin of her own, "I'll go with as your date."

Again, Pandora nodded at the two. "I'll come as a guest as well with Ghost Writer, Undergrowth, and Frostbite."

"Settled?" Danny asked. After agreements, he turned to Dani and the kids. "You four want to help me finally deck this place out?" Their matching grins said everything.

With a final dismissal, the group vanished to finish their final preparations.

Part 3

[razzlerdazzler]

Valentine's Day Snippet

A/N: Hello, happy Valentine's day! This is just a small snippet of a request sent to me by @missferxani I'm sorry it's taking me so long to finish it. In the latest post I said I'd show more progress of the requests instead of leavng you guys in the dark about them so I figured I'd post this beginning part to see what you think about it. Please feel free to let me know if I made him ooc, and feel free to send me any critiques you can think of. Again, I'm sorry it's taking so long and I hope you like it. :)

Pairing: Bunnymund X Cupid Reader

Summary: Bunnymund is nervous about confessing his feelings and the guardians help him

The North pole seemed to be busy as always. Yetis rushing to get work done, while the elves ran amok doing...maintenance, bunny could only assume as they ran around with tools. The weather outside the workshop was snowy as always, and the fire in the fireplace only seemed to burn brighter the longer he looked at it. Today was one of the guardians annual meetings. Normally they didn't see each other often but after what happened with Pitch, they all decided it was probably better to keep in touch more often now. Which is what led them all to be here now...well almost everyone. You hadn't arrived yet. He can only assume it's because you were busy bringing love to the world. The thought of that alone is enough to bring a smile to his face.

"You alright?" a light voice suddenly asks, bringing him out of his thoughts. He glances over to whoever's talking to him and sees Tooth looking at him a little bit worried. "Sorry, what was that?" He asks, the question causes her to look at him with even more concern, and he can hear her wings flutter faster as she continues to hover near him. "I asked you if you were okay, you've been staring at the fire for a while and haven't really said anything." His eyes widened as he glanced back at North's fireplace before looking back at Tooth again. Did he really space out for that long?

Bunnymund chuckles and scratches the back of his neck, a bit embarrassed that he got caught. "Sorry, guess I was spacing out." Tooth continues to look at him with a little bit of concern and opens her mouth, about to say something before a new deep Russian voice suddenly pipes into their conversation. "Tooth is right bunny, this is not like you at all. Normally you join our conversations or you bicker with Jack, but I haven't heard much from you since you got here. Is something bothering you?" North asks him as he walks over to them.

He glances at North and Tooth and he can tell they're both worried about him. "I've just got some stuff on my mind, that's all. Nothing to be worried about." He tries to reassure them. "More like someone." Somebody remarks and he turns his head to glare at Jack who's leaning against his staff a few feet away next to Sandy. A knowing and teasing grin on his face. Bunny can feel his face start to heat up with a blush at the comment and he glowers back at the winter spirit. "Stay out of this frostbite."

"Who could he be thinking about that would cause him to act like this?" North asks Jack and before he has a chance to speak, Bunny quickly answers. "Look it's not important who I was thinking about mate-" North cuts him off, an eager smile on his face. "Aha! So you were thinking about someone, come on Bunny who is it? You can tell us." Bunny can feel the heat on his face finally reach his ears as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other as he realizes his slip up. "I-um," he tries to think of a way to get out of this hole he just duge for himself but he's unable to come up with anyting on the spot. Thankfully, Tooth seems to notice his predicament and quickly chimes in, giving him a soft smile. "You don't have to tell us if you don't want to bunny," she reassures him. He glances over at her and gives her a thankful smile, glad that she's trying to give him an opening out of this situation he's put himself in. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. He should come clean, it's only fair that they know who's been on his mind this whole time.

"No you're right, I-I was thinking about somebody." He pauses, he can feel their eyes on him, waiting for him to tell them who, which is only causing him to get more flustered. He crosses his arms over his chest. "I-It's Y/N," he confesses. The room goes silent, the only noise coming from the elves and yetis as they work. He finally gets the courage to glance around the group and everybody looks shocked, well everyone except for one. Jack has a large smirk on his face, grinning like the cat that caught the canary. The sight of it only makes him feel more embarrassed as he waits to hear what the others think.

The silence is broken as North laughs. The loud boisterous laughter making him feel even more embarrassed than he already was. "I knew it!" North proudly exclaims as he looks at Tooth and Sandy who were also smiling at the pooka knowingly. Their reactions only added to the whirlwhind of emotions he was feeling. At first it was nervousness and embarrassment from being caught, but now surprise and confusion were added to the mix. Was it really that obvious? He knew Jack had already figured it out but everyone else? Did they really know this whole time?

His brows furrow and he raises his hands, the confusion obvious on his face. "What do you mean you knew?!" He asks them incredulously. North only smiles at him, and proudly pats his stomach, "I felt it in my belly." He looks at North in disbelief before he pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger and lets out an exasperated sigh, "not this again." He looks back towards Tooth and Sandy, "did you two know about this as well?" Sandy just smiles and shrugs while Tooth has a bashful smile on her face. "We had our suspicions."

Bunny sighs and rubs a hand over his face, all this time he thought he was successfully hiding his crush on you, and yet the other knew. Does that mean you know too? He feels his blood run cold at that thought and he looks at the others, "does Y/N know?" Jack just smiles at the question and gives him a teasing smile. "Relax, she doesn't even have a clue that you like her kangaroo."

He feels relief at the news and lets out a sigh as he allows himself to relax a little. He decides to not bring up the annoying nickname as Jack continues to talk. "Besides, you should just tell them how you feel, I mean it's pretty obvious that they like you back." North smiles and nods and looks at Bunny. "He's got a point." Bunny sighs at that and runs a hand over his face. He knows that he can't win this argument so he finally says, "It's not that I don't want to, It's just that-" He pauses, thinking about his next words carefully. "What if tell them and they reject me? I mean I'm fine with rejection, it's just that what if everything gets awkward between us after that. Even worse, what if they don't want to still be friends with me after that? I can't put our friendship on the line like that. Besides...I don't even know how to confess." His voice weakens into a mumble at the end of his rant as he voices his concerns to the group. To be honest it felt good to finally be able to talk to the others about all of these pent up thoughts and emotions and finally be able to get them off his chest.

Tooth smiles gently at him and puts a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "Bunny, this is Y/N we're talking about. You know they would never do that, and besides we'll help you." He smiles at her, thankful for her reassurance. North suddenly speaks up again, "Tooth is right, we'll help you confess your feelings for Y/N. After all we're guardians, what can't we do?!" He says as he proudly looks around the group. Sandy smiles and nods, a thumbs up made of sand appears over his head. Jack nods as well as he leans on his staff and looks around the group, "count me in." Bunny smiles at the group, thankfully, grateful for his friends. "Thanks guys, I'm gonna need all the help I can get with this."

"Help with what?" A new, familiar voice suddenly pipes into the conversation, causing his heart to speed up and he feels his face get warm again when he turns around and sees you standing a couple of feet away from the group. You smile as you look at the group questioningly, as he quickly tries to rack his brain for an excuse. "H-help with Easter preparations. I'm a little behind this year." He narrowly comes up with an excuse and he silently hopes that you believe him as he gives you a small embarrassed smile. Thankfully, you seem to believe him as your smile widens and your expression becomes excited. "Sounds fun, mind if I join in?" He smiles at that and nods as his heart flutters at your thoughtfulness. "O-of course, I'd be more than happy to have you." He says as you both look at each other. The sound of someone clearing their throat breaks the moment as you and bunny look away from each other and towards North who smiles at the group. "Now that everyone's here, let's get down to business."

[hugsandchaos]

Random bit, but does anyone else wonder if ghosts from the ghost zone react to humans similarly to how humans react to ghosts? Like sometimes I just want to write Danny in human form around Frostbite in a manner that’s kind of from Frostbite’s prospective, and describe Danny’s human form in a way that connects to the living world or at least partially does. Let me just show you what I mean.

It was odd for Frostbite, seeing the Great One’s human form for the first time. True, he literally asked for it during the checkup, and he’s met Sam and Tucker before, but something about this was different. Perhaps it was the simple fact that Frostbite had only seen him in ghost form until that point, maybe it had something to do with him being a halfa. Who was to say when there was so, so little information on Halfas?

Hair the color of freshly fallen snow, much like the fur of Frostbite and his people, now turned as dark as a shadow. Perhaps even darker, just like Sam’s. Unlike Sam, however, Danny’s eyes had a different color. A shade of green that both practically and often literally glowed just like the ectoplasm all ghosts were made of had been replaced by a light blue. Looking at them reminded the chief of ice, and he was sure that any glare from them would feel like ice piercing a ghost’s very core. His skin was a little darker now, but Danny still appeared a little paler than Sam.

Looking at Danny now was like looking at a glimpse of a world where everything was different. Frostbite knew that the two realms were obviously different, but it felt more... perhaps “dangerous” was a good word, or “mysterious”. The thumping of his heart was picked up on more easily by the machines used to read his core vibrations, and the thermometer rose gradually until it reached 94 degrees. That temperature was extremely dangerous for a ghost with an ice core, as the average temperature for one was between 10 to 0 degrees. And yet Danny Phantom’s recorded body temperatures were always between 32 and 40, which was by itself alarming enough. Now it was all the way at 94?!

“Young Phantom, are you alright?! The thermometer says that your body temperature is 94 degrees!” Frostbite exclaimed.

Danny nodded and smile a little, his new ghost teeth, which Sam and Tucker called fangs despite them being rather small, were visible for a short while.”That’s actually close to the average healthy temperature for a human, which is 97 to 99 degrees, but I guess being half ghost lowered it a bit? It’s when the body temperature reaches 100 or higher that we should worry.” He said.

“...I need to update your record.” Frostbite said after a moment’s silence. Once the checkup was over, perhaps he could ask the Great One to bring some medical books on humans to better understand the living, and dead, paradox that was Halfas.

“My what now?” Danny asked.

[gaywriterdude]

Time Travel AU (Chp 1)

still don't have a title, but i'm thinking something to do with stars ~2000 words | inspired by this post

fic | masterpost | prev | next

“My king,” a disembodied voice spoke from the doorway. 

Danny didn’t look up from the paperwork he was doing. The scratch of the pen was the only sound for a few moments, before a sigh was heard. 

“My king, you have a visitor waiting for you in the first sitting room. He claims it to be urgent,” the voice said, exasperation evident despite the growling otherworldly aspect to it. 

Danny huffed, finished signing the form, and glared up at the figure standing in the doorway. A tall, broad frame covered in leather and armor. Gloved hands held a matching helmet. Long dark hair kept in a permanent braid fell down the figure’s back. Noxious green eyes peered queerly at Danny. 

“You best not keep your magician waiting, lest he gets curious and starts exploring. You know how the castle loves to eat the wanderers,” the figure said with humor in his gravelly voice. 

“I am not letting the castle eat Constantine, Fright Knight,” Danny deadpanned. He brushed his long white hair out of his face, glancing around to make sure there was no other pressing paperwork to be done first. Seeing none, he stood from his chair and allowed Fright Knight to lead him to where the Sad Trenchcoat Man was undoubtedly waiting with bad news. 

Danny met John Constantine a few years prior, when a crisis led the man to summoning help from an “ice demon” fourth in line for Frostbite’s throne. Said ice demon just so happened to also be the newly crowned High King of the Infinite Realms. Danny gave Constantine one of the phones Tucker and Technus had made to work in the Realms for future use. It was nice to stretch his hero muscles every now and then without being hunted down. He had met with the Justice League a few times since then—only in emergencies, and never for very long—and Danny enjoyed fighting with them. In exchange for being what was essentially a last-ditch ace up the sleeves of the Justice League, Danny got them to deal with the Anti-Ecto Acts. Can’t have a ghost saving the world if ghosts are illegal, now can you? It was a situation that worked for everyone. 

They reached the sitting room quickly; the castle didn’t make the walk too long this time. That was probably because all of the rooms on the first floor were frequently accessed by his subjects and pretty set in stone. The other floors, however, tended to morph however the castle pleased. Danny had to ask for his bedroom back often. 

The sitting room was cozy despite its large size, with multiple fancy chairs and couches that Frighty wouldn’t let Danny replace, books, long-extinct plants, and warm light coming from the windows. (Danny didn’t question the fact that most of the atmosphere outside was green, save for specific territories. It was the Infinite Realms and he lived in a sentient castle.) He found Constantine looking closely at one of the bookshelves lining the walls, hand reaching out. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Danny said dryly as he entered the room, “The books tend to bite.” 

Constantine jumped with a squeak. “Blood hell, mate, you’re as bad as bats with your silent shit,” he grumbled. 

“Well, I am floating,” Danny grinned. He gestured to a set of chairs framing a fireplace that was entirely for show. “Shall we sit?” 

Constantine did so with a grunt. “How’re things running?”

Danny sighed. “You didn’t come all this way for a social call. So, what’s the bad news?” he asked, a furrow in his pale eyebrows. 

“Figures you’d see through me,” Constantine huffed. He gruffly explained, “New cult in Gotham, snatching kids off the street in my guy’s territory. I did some digging, looks like they want to summon the Ghost King using the kids as sacrifices. They seem to worship some sort of demon or deity that, frankly, looks like a knock-off dracula. Want the Ghost King to make him all-powerful. They’re in Gotham now, but were seen in other places. Looks like they might pack up and leave since we’re on to them, and my guy would like some help stopping them before that happens.” Constantine paused before he continued, “I wouldn’t normally ask for a case like this, not immediately world-ending and I know you don’t like to socialize much these days, but somehow they got a hold of a nasty summoning ritual that they think will work, and it wouldn’t do for the High King to be controlled. There’s also the small possibility that the ritual will summon the previous king…”

Danny put his hands on his face and let out a long groan and mentally cursed himself for pissing off the fates in a past life. The shadows in the room grew impossibly larger. “How much you wanna bet my evil godfather that looks like a knock-off dracula started a cult for funsies?” the man muttered darkly.

“That story I’ve gotta hear,” Constantine said with a surprised laugh. 

“Not enough time or enough alcohol for that story, my friend,” Danny let out a self-deprecating chuckle. The shadows eased slightly. “What’s your guy’s name and how do I find him?” 

“Name’s Red Hood, lurk on any rooftop in Crime Alley and he’ll find you within the hour. He’s got that same weird thing about outsiders in his territory that you do,” the blond man said while he tried to look at the books across the room. 

The pale ghost used a glowing finger to turn Constantine’s face the other way. “Bad. Books bite weak humans,“ Danny grunted. He let out a sigh at all the paperwork that wouldn’t get done. “I’ll track down your guy and get more info about the case from him. If he’s weird about his territory I’ll probably be able to sense the claim and follow it to him,” Danny said. He hadn’t been to Gotham, mostly because he had met Batman and felt the city’s claim on the man. He did not want to go to a city that built up enough curses for there to be a city spirit powerful enough to lay claim to her champions. But hey, technically he was the city spirit’s king and would be helping (what it sounded like) one of her champions. Surely, Gotham had to play nice because of that. 

Either way, this cult situation could go very wrong very quickly, so Danny had to act fast. He ran a hand down his face and stood up. 

“I’ll see you later Conny, I’m gonna go track down your guy. Maybe call me occasionally for something other than the end of the world?” Danny teased. Time worked differently in the realms, so it would be best to go to Gotham right away so that he didn’t lose a few days, 

Constantine chuckled, but nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Care to open a portal home? I haven’t quite regained the energy I spent getting here.” 

Instead of answering, Danny reached out a clawed finger and ripped into reality, leaving a glowing green portal behind. 

“Thanks, mate. Let me know how the cultists go, yeah?” Constantine grinned, and then he was enveloped in green. The portal zipped closed quietly. 

Danny took a deep breath. Danny let out a furious scream. 

The king marched to the door, where Fright Knight was waiting with an amused smirk.

“I take it you won’t be doing that paperwork, then, your majesty?” Fright Knight said innocently. 

“Oh fuck off.” 

“I took the liberty of having the staff prepare a smoothie for you, which is waiting in the entrance hall,” Fright Knight said. 

“I take it back. I love you, Frighty,” the king exhaled. 

The Knight nodded and walked with him to the entrance hall. On a table to the side sat a glowing green smoothie, as promised. Danny gulped down the drink immediately. He’d need some extra ecto if things got bad. Then, he snapped his fingers and his “heroing” clothes were on. 

Over the years he’d figured out how to change his clothes. He’d also learned how to change forms and add them to a roster of sorts. The roster made it easier to switch between different roles without having to manually change clothes. It had taken time to develop the different forms, but now his ectoplasm remembered, and he could switch between them in an instant. Once he switched forms he could change what clothes he was wearing, but when he switched it would go back to the default that he’d developed. 

Danny’s casual form usually consisted of a variety of black tops and loose black pants with white accessories. The pants were usually cuffed at the bottom and hung over white combat boots. His long pointed ears poked out of his shaggy white hair, and his skin was a pale blue. 

His kingly mode was what he’d been in today, doing paperwork and meeting with advisors. High-collared tight black button downs, the arms fading seamlessly into white gloves; loose flowing trousers tucked into nicer white boots; a v-shaped belt with small sheaths that seemed to hold infinite pocketspace; a thick black cloak that appeared to be made of the shadows themselves, but faded into glowing white at the bottom; a glowing crown made out of the aurora borealis itself. His long hair was usually braided back at the top, but fell loosely down his back and floated as if underwater. His form was larger, his teeth and claws longer, ears more pronounced, skin a slightly darker blue-green. If he wanted to be really intimidating, he made his cloak elongate infinitely, and when you looked at it held entire universes inside. 

He also had a hero mode, which was nearly identical to his default mode, save for the clothes. This one just had a black bodysuit, toolbelt, and chest emblem that looked more like the other superhero’s costumes. He also added his shadow cloak and a steampunk-esq mask that covered the lower half of his face. It was easier to have an entirely different form for it in his roster, so that he could be in his hero gear in an instant if needed. It was especially convenient in times like these, when he was in a rush and didn’t want to have to coax the castle into making his bedroom exist again. 

Once Danny was in his hero getup, he quickly shoved some extra vials of ectoplasm into a pocket of his toolbelt. He said goodbye to Frighty, then floated through the door. He knew there was a naturally occurring portal in Gotham, and it would be easier to go through that than try and open a portal to a place he’d never been. 

He shifted his legs to a tail, and got to flying. 

Going anywhere in the Infinite Realms was weird, because time and distance didn’t really exist. You just had to fly vaguely in a direction with a goal in mind. Sometimes it was faster if you flew vaguely in the other direction with the same goal in mind, which was about as detailed directions as you would get. Somewhere in the realms, there was a set of natural portals that had been forced open permanently. They all went to the same dimension, which was rare. They were also disgusting, and he’d told the observants to get someone to fix them. They hadn’t yet, which usually meant Danny had to fix them. But he was still catching up on 2,000 year old paperwork, so he was a little behind. 

Today, it didn’t take long to reach the portals. Probably because the Realms could sense his urgency. He was almost there, the portal to Gotham in his sights, when he felt a sensation like a chain snapping around his core. 

Blinding red light flashed, and the chain tugged his very core out of his chest. His body had no choice but to follow. Danny was being unmade, pulled through time and space as his very particles separated and came back together over and over again. It felt like dying, like the portal accident was being recreated.

Danny screamed.

Flashes of moments, there and gone in an instance. A buff man in a red helmet tied up in the center of a glowing red circle. A green-eyed teenager clutching his bleeding stomach as he ran. A young boy, crying for his mother with watery blue eyes. A dark-haired boy being torn apart inside a portal, flickering in and out of existence. A toddler having the same thing happen to him as his parents’ screams faded from inside a burning car. Scarred, broken fingers pounding on the inside of a dark coffin.

Green… 

Suffocating green.

[theglamorousferal]

Persephone's Binding Part 12

Hardcover/Anger Management ship Sacrificial Bride au

AO3 Prompt Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

"Ellie!" Danny shouted and then sped towards the source of the surprise attack. The person he tackled had the sides of her head shaved with a short mohawk the same snow white as Danny. She had four black studs in one ear and three studs on the other side that were teal, orange and pink. She was in black and white winter gear that had studs and spikes on her coat, gloves and boots.

She giggled as they roughhoused in the snow. She was about the same height and build as Danny and that prompted Jason to ask Jazz. "She's the clone sister, right?" He turned to where she had been standing to find she wasn't there. He glanced around to see her standing to the side speaking with Frostbite in quiet voices. Frostbite's face was full of concern. He handed her a bag, set his hand on her shoulder, then turned to go back to the exam room.

Jason watched as Jazz's shoulders rose and then slumped. He approached her, "Jazz?" Her shoulders hiked to her ears. "Is everything okay?" She turned around quickly and she had schooled her expression to seem casual and at ease.

"Nothing you need to worry about. Just Regent stuff. Did I hear Ellie?" She sped past him, securing the bag on her shoulder. He narrowed his eyes, but let the issue drop.

"Yeah, is she the clone sister you were telling me about?"

"Yes she is! She must be here for her shots, it's been roughly three months I think." She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted in the direction of the flying figures, "Hey, big sis wants a hug you gremlins!" She handed Jason the bag before she was tackled into the snow by two black and white blurs. Laughter broke from the pile of figures and after a few moments Jazz's hand shot out from the mass.

Jason helped her stand leading to them suddenly standing very close to each other and Jason looking up into those perfect teal eyes with flecks of luminescent gold swirling in them. Some of her hair began to float about them before twin coughs startled them both enough that they stepped away from each other.

Jason glared at Danny who put on a smile of innocence perfectly mimicked by Ellie. Jazz brushed the snow from her coat before reaching out for the bag. "So, Ellie, are you planning on staying for a little while before heading out again? Also where's Dante?"

Ellie blew the hair that had come loose from her mohawk out of her eyes before responding. "Yeah, I was planning on sticking around for at least a week since I heard about this whole 'sacrifice' thing." She seemed to bare her teeth at Jason before rolling her eyes. "As for Dante? Him and Skulker bet each other that they could break outta Walker's first a few days ago, I give them another day or two before we see them at all."

"Cool, so Ellie, this is Jason, he's the one who got sacrificed, we are still doing some research on what ritual was used so we can figure out how to break it so we can send him back to his home dimension."

Danny's innocent smile turned to a smirk. "I mean, we still gotta figure out which one he's from to be able to send him back. That could take a while. I say we make the most of it. Once Johnny's done with your bike, we'll do a little tour of my favorite places in the Realms. Probably can get that shard that's messing with your core taken care of too. I'm sure that Pandora would be willing to remove it if you agree to spar with her and introduce her to the Amazons you know once we find where you're from."

Jason's glare had changed to a smile, he turned to Jazz. "Maybe we can take a day and go to the Boardwalk?"

She had a wistful look on her face. "I wish I could, but duty calls I'm afraid. Which reminds me, we should head out soon. Ellie, are you coming with us?"

"Yeah, Frostbite cleared me this morning, I was just waiting for y'all to show up. I already put my backpack in the Speeder."

Jazz smiled. "Great, let's head out then, I have something that I need to take care of when we get back."

The other three watched as she marched herself towards the ship. They shared a look. Danny looked away first, biting his lip as he followed his sister. Jason and Ellie traded confused and alarmed faces before following.

The return trip was spent discussing places that Danny and Ellie wanted to show Jason while Jazz slowly reduced her white-knuckled grip in the wheel.

[ninjatrashpanda]

Of Freezing Cold and Cozy Warmth

Written for @bucktommywinterfest (It's a bit late, sorryyyy x.x)

Prompt: "I've actually never seen snow before."

Rated: G

Tags: established relationship, fluff, light h/c, AU canon divergence

Read on AO3 here.

“Fuck me, why is it so cold?!”

This was insane. Completely unacceptable. How did people choose to live in temperatures like this?!

Logically, Tommy had known that he should be prepared for this. He’d known that Los Angeles was significantly warmer than a lot of places in the country. And he’d taken it seriously and prepared himself mentally. He’d figured that he had been ready when he and Evan had boarded the plane back home.

Now, standing outside the airport and waiting for Evan’s parents to pick them up, it became more than obvious that he wasn’t prepared. Nothing ever could’ve possibly prepared him for the wind to give him the worst hug of all time, or the icicles it drew down his spine. It felt like Winter itself was attacking him with countless tiny daggers to his face and especially his ears. Evan had told him to buy a beanie or a pair of ear warmers, but he hadn’t taken him seriously.

Oh, what a terrible mistake that was.

“Uh, because it’s December and we’re in Pennsylvania?” Evan answered with a raised eyebrow and barely concealed smile, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Tommy shot Evan a glare so venomous it could have melted the frost off his eyelashes...if his eyelashes had actually been frozen. They weren’t, but it felt like they might be any second now.

“This is not December. This is the Arctic tundra, and I didn’t sign up for this kind of abuse,” Tommy retorted, pulling his hoodie tighter around his head. It was useless against the gusts of wind that seemed hell-bent on cutting through every layer of clothing he had.

Evan, of course, looked unfazed. If anything, he looked amused. Dressed in a thick winter jacket and wearing the very beanie Tommy had mocked in the store just last week, he seemed utterly immune to the cold. It was infuriating. “I told you it was going to be cold, Tommy,” Evan said with a chuckle, his breath visible in the air. “You can’t blame me for your stubbornness.”

“I’m not blaming you,” Tommy said through chattering teeth. “I’m blaming this state. How do people live here?!”

Evan rolled his eyes, but Tommy could clearly see the onset of a fond smile at the corners of his mouth. “You’re being dramatic. It’s not even that cold.”

“Not that cold?!” Tommy exclaimed, his voice rising in pitch. He waved his hands around like a madman, a feeble attempt at warming himself up. “This is frostbite weather! My toes are going to fall off! I can’t feel my nose! This is how I die!”

“Relax. My parents will be here in, like, five minutes,” Evan said, checking his phone. “You’ll survive.”

And that sent a completely different sort of shiver down Tommy’s spine. Margaret and Phillip Buckley were a…complicated subject, and even after two years of dating Evan and meeting his biological parents several times, he wasn’t quite sure what to think of them. They’d been…awkward at first, but Tommy had expected that. It wasn’t every day that your 33-year-old, previously thought-to-be-straight son showed up at your daughter’s wedding with his newly minted boyfriend. There was no script for a situation like that. Over time though, they’d gotten around, and Tommy figured they at least were able to tolerate him, considering that he was invited whenever they came to Los Angeles. (Though even if they didn’t, Evan, Maddie and Chimney probably would probably make sure he was included anyway.)

Of course, Tommy was also acutely aware of the rather…tumultuous past of the Buckley family.

The story about Daniel Buckley and his tragic, untimely death had come out of Evan in bits and pieces over their time together. Tommy had first heard Daniel’s name around a week after Maddie and Chimney’s wedding, when Evan had mentioned that they had originally planned to leave two empty seats at their table at the reception. One for Kevin, of course, and the other for someone named Daniel. Tommy hadn’t known who exactly Daniel had been, but clearly he must’ve been a big deal when a space at the bride and groom’s table was kept empty for him.

He had first learned that Daniel had been Maddie and Evan’s brother about a week after that. It was at the first of a few double dates with Eddie and Marisol (and boy, did he still kind of cringe whenever he thought about her and the way her and Eddie’s relationship had ended), when she had mentioned a petty squabble she’d recently gotten into with her own brother. Both Evan and Eddie had shared anecdotes about their sisters, and Evan had openly wondered what his relationship with Daniel might’ve been like. Marisol had been visibly confused (Tommy had very much seen the discreet head shake Eddie had sent her), but Tommy had obviously connected the dots.

He hadn’t learned that Evan had been a savior baby until a few months later, when, on their frequent journey of making Evan watch movies, Tommy had decided to put on My Sister’s Keeper. The choice had been an innocent one. He had thought it was a tearjerker that Evan, with his endless compassion, would appreciate. He hadn’t expected his boyfriend to sit frozen through most of it, his face pale and jaw tight. At first, Tommy had thought that it was just the movie getting to Evan like it did to most people, but by the climax of the film, Evan had abruptly stood up and muttered something about needing air.

The aftermath of that night, from Evan explaining the circumstances of his birth, to Tommy profoundly apologizing for his movie pick (Evan had assured him it was okay. There was no way Tommy could’ve known), to the revelation of just what Margaret and Phillip had actually done to both Evan and Maddie, had stuck with Tommy in ways only his father and his past in the military had otherwise. A cold, seething rage at the Buckley parents had filled him to the brim, a sense of anger so harsh that he hadn’t fully been able to let go of it even now, a year and a half later.

Tommy shook his head. Evan and Maddie had forgiven their parents. They had gone to therapy together and mended their relationship as well as they could. They were on good terms, which was why he was in the middle of what felt like the Antarctic’s asscrack right now anyway. And besides, after all the shit he had pulled back during his Closet Era™, who was he to judge anyone anyway? It would be more than hypocritical.

“Hey, Earth to Tommy,” Evan said, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You’re starting to look like a puppy that got lost in the snow. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Tommy startled, his head snapping over to Evan, his eyes wide as dishes. He recovered quickly, though, and shot Evan a sheepish look. “Just thinking about what your parents are gonna have to say about you popping the question.”

Evan froze, his easy grin faltering for the briefest of moments. Then his expression softened into something warm, almost shy, as a blush crept up his cheeks, and not from the cold this time. “You think they’ll be surprised?” he asked, his voice quieter now, as if he was scared Margaret and Phillip could be hiding behind the next corner.

With an exaggerated hum, Tommy tilted his head, pretending to think hard about it. “I mean, on one hand, you are incredibly handsome, with a heart of gold and a massive dick that makes angels sing, while I’m just, y’know, me.” He gestured to himself dramatically, as if he was the most repulsive being on the planet. “But on the other hand, everyone back home knew. Hell, I knew for about a month before you proposed. You’re not subtle.”

An incredulous, awkward laugh escaped Evan’s mouth, the blush on his cheeks turning a shade brighter. “Excuse me, but I am absolutely subtle. And you had no idea. None. Nada. Zilch. Zero.”

“Oh, yes, of course, I had no clue!” Tommy shot back, raising his hands in surrender. A move he instantly regretted when the Pennsylvania Winter air crept through his pores directly into his bones. With another shiver, he quickly brought his palms up to his mouth and breathed into them, the warmth of his breath a temporary, but welcome relief. “But seriously, do you think they’ll be weird about it? I mean, it’s one thing for me to just be the boyfriend you have when they expected a girlfriend, but it’s another thing entirely to, you know… potentially be the son-in-law.”

Evan’s gaze held his own for a beat, steady and warm, in spite of the icy wind that Tommy was sure was going to turn his skin blue any moment now. “They’ll be fine,” he said firmly. “They’ve come a long way. We all have. And if they’re not, well...” His face turned harder suddenly, almost determined, even. “It wouldn’t be the first time I picked somebody I love over them.”

Tommy stared at Evan, his breath coming out as a plume of fog in the cold air. He couldn’t decide if the warmth in his chest was from Evan’s unwavering confidence or from the sheer force his heart was currently beating with. He couldn’t fight the tears that shot into his eyes.

“That’s… probably the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” he sniffed, rubbing his eyes. “Also kind of terrifying? In a way? But mostly sweet.”

Evan’s face broke into a soft smile again, the kind that always made Tommy wonder how he ever got this lucky. He’d been a horrible human being in his youth, from the way he’d kept quiet under Gerrard’s captainship, to how he’d strung Abby along for years in an attempt to “fix” himself.

Not for the first time in the last few years, Tommy thought about just how little he actually deserved the life he had. He didn’t deserve a job he loved. He didn’t deserve for the man of his dreams to love him back. He sure as hell didn’t deserve to get married to said guy, or to get chosen by him over his literal family.

Almost as if he read his mind, Evan stepped closer and pulled Tommy into a kiss. Evan’s mouth was surprisingly warm on Tommy’s own, as if it was completely immune to the air around them.

The gentle softness made Tommy’s lips tingle, a sensation that traveled across his cheeks, which turned a soft pink almost instantly, to his ears and then down his neck and into every fiber of his body. Almost instinctively, Tommy wrapped his arms around Evan, pulling him ever closer against him, as if any remaining inch of space between them was an affront to reality itself.

The moment stayed frozen between them for a second, filled with nothing but the howl of the wind and the crunch of snow under a passing car’s tires. For once, Tommy didn’t mind the cold as much. Not with Evan looking at him like that, his blue eyes lit up like a pair of sapphires hanging in the night sky.

He felt it then, the weight of his past slowly lifting off of his heart. He wasn’t that guy anymore. He had gone out of his way to be someone better, someone he could be proud of being. Someone who did deserve the love and happiness he experienced day after day with his fiancé.

“Alright, loverboy, if we stand here any longer, I’m going to turn into a human popsicle,” Tommy said as he pulled away, his teeth beginning to clatter almost instantly as a shiver went down his spine as a particularly cold gust swept over them.

Evan laughed, pulling him closer as if to shield him from the biting wind. “Good thing that they’re here, then, huh?”

Tommy followed Evan’s gaze to see a familiar SUV slowing to a stop just a few feet away. His stomach did an immediate flip, the butterflies waking from their momentary hibernation. He tried not to let his nerves show as Margaret and Phillip stepped out of the car.

Margaret was the first to approach, bundled in a sleek wool coat that somehow managed to make her look as effortlessly composed as ever. Phillip trailed behind her, his face lined with age but still kind in a way that always threw Tommy off balance.

“Buck!” Margaret called, her voice cutting through the wind like it had never learned to be anything but commanding. Her arms opened wide, and Evan stepped into them without hesitation, his beanie brushing against her neatly coiffed hair as he bent over (Tommy honestly had to wonder where the hell Evan’s size had come from, because it definitely wasn’t from either of his parents). “You’re freezing!” she scolded, pulling back just enough to fuss over him.

There was a part of Tommy that wanted to be bitchy and crack a joke about who was actually freezing here, but he held himself back. No need to piss off his future in-laws over the temperature. (Also, it was Tommy’s own fault that he was cold. But he wasn’t ready to acknowledge that yet.) So, he hung back, trying not to feel awkward as he hovered near the luggage. Then, while Margaret continued to fuss over Evan, Phillip came up to him, offering a small smile.

“Tommy,” he greeted, extending a hand. “Good to see you again.”

Tommy took it, shaking firmly despite the numbness creeping into his fingers. “Good to see you too, Mr. Buckley.”

“Please,” Phillip said, waving a hand as if to shoo away the formality. “It’s Phillip.”

“Right. Phillip,” Tommy tried the name out, and it felt just as strange as it always did. He could never quite figure out if he was crossing some invisible line by addressing them so casually or if the line had ever even existed in the first place.

With that, Margaret finally let go of Evan and turned to him, her sharp eyes a tad softer than the last time he’d seen her. “Tommy,” she said with a nod, her tone cordial and vaguely friendly, but far from the warmth you’d hope your Partner’s parents would show you. She walked a few steps over to him and regarded his…less than adequate wardrobe. “I hope the flight wasn’t too bad. You look…unprepared.”

“No, it was fine. Thanks for asking,” Tommy replied, keeping his voice polite but neutral. He wasn’t about to dive into the six-hour battle he’d waged against turbulence, hectic layovers and airplane coffee. “And yeah, uh, I didn’t take Evan seriously when he told me about how cold it is. You know, I’ve never actually seen snow before, so I figured…”

Margaret’s eyebrow slowly climbed up her face, her expression turning more and more incredulous. Tommy bit his tongue. This is going swimmingly, he thought. Great impression to make on your fiancé’s parents, really.

Out of the corners of his eyes, Tommy saw Evan and his father share a look, though he wasn’t sure what kind of look it was. For a fraction of a second, Tommy wondered if Evan was about to ask for his engagement ring back, and he wasn’t sure if he could do that. The ring was simple, a bronze band with a celtic weave design, but Tommy had fallen in love with it almost instantly. If Evan would now ask for it back…No, he wouldn’t. He already said so. Tommy couldn’t think like this. He couldn’t doubt his and Evan’s relationship like that.

Eventually, Evan cleared his throat, quickly gaining his mother’s and Tommy’s attention. With a large, almost blinding smile, he stepped in, grabbing the nearest suitcase and gesturing toward the SUV. “Alright, let’s get everything loaded up before Tommy loses his toes. And we should probably stop at a clothing store when we get to Hershey, you know, for reasons.”

Phillip chuckled, taking the hint and grabbing another bag. “Welcome to Pennsylvania in December, Tommy,” he said, almost cheerfully. “Get in the car before you turn into a smurf. Evan and I got the luggage.”

Tommy didn’t need to be told twice. Without hesitation, he climbed into the SUV, immediately basking in the warmth that enveloped him. It was like stepping into heaven, if heaven smelled faintly of peppermint and pine air fresheners. He let out a small groan of relief, his fingers tingling as they began to thaw. He could already feel life returning to his toes, though they were still mad at him for subjecting them to such a brutal ordeal.

A minute later, Evan climbed into the seat beside him, shaking snowflakes off his jacket as he leaned over to press a quick kiss to Tommy’s temple. “Feeling better already?” he asked, his tone teasing but laced with genuine concern.

“Not quite,” Tommy muttered, sticking his hands in front of the vents to warm them faster. “I think my soul is still somewhere out there, frozen on the curb. But at least the rest of me is starting to defrost.”

Evan laughed, the sound soft and fond, before reaching over to grab Tommy’s hands and rub them between his own. “Well, we’ll get you some gloves and a decent jacket before you have to face the cold again. Or maybe I’ll just have to keep holding your hands like this everywhere we go.”

“Now, that’s a solution I can get behind,” Tommy quipped, leaning into Evan’s touch. “But I’m holding you to that.”

As the car pulled away from the curb, Margaret glanced at them in the rearview mirror. Her expression was unreadable, but she didn’t say anything about the way Evan’s hands lingered on Tommy’s. It made him gulp a little, his earlier fear of her rejecting him coming back. But then Evan pulled his hands up and kissed his knuckles, and he looked at him with such huge amounts of love that Tommy couldn’t help but relax. Evan chose him. Was choosing him. Would always choose him. Margaret and Phillip might not ever be his biggest fans, but Evan’s words echoed in his mind: They’ll be fine. And if they’re not…

Tommy reached up to wrap an arm around Evan’s shoulders, and he melted into the embrace and rested his head on Tommy’s shoulder, his hand moving to rest on Tommy’s knee. With a sigh, Tommy looked out of the window, admiring the Pennsylvania Winter Landscape, the last of his worries giving way to a sense of content. Marge and Phil would be fine. And if they weren’t fine? Well, Evan had already made it clear where his loyalty lay.

And for now, that was enough.

[eddiesguitarskills]

It Can't All Be Bullshit

Read part 2 here

Eddie Munson x fem Reader x Steve Harrington (unfortunately no steddie in this)

Summary: pinning after your best friend can be hard, especially when he doesn’t seem to like you back. You were trying to get over a crush the last thing you needed was another.

AN: this and the next chapter have been in my drafts for far too long so I thought I'd post them (not the best piece of writing but I like the story) I have tried to prove read it but I have dyslexia so sorry for any mistakes

Warnings: Angst, use of Y/n, mention of break ups, miscommunication, drug and alcohol use, swearing

Word count: about 2000 words

Halloween night 1985

Of all the people you had to have a crush on, why did it have to be your annoying, oblivious dork of a best friend? You knew you needed to get over it, and even if there ever was a chance of being with him, you feared you’d lose him. You weren’t what Eddie wanted in a girl, and you knew that. You were surprised he kept you around now with how much you nagged at him. It’s not like it was all the time, but someone had to look out for that boy, especially if he wasn’t going to do it for himself.

Eddie interrupted your plans for a Halloween movie night, which you had planned out for a month, costumes included. If anyone were to look at you together, they would assume you were a couple; most people did. You were dressed as Jack and Wendy Torrance from the shinning. He even let you put makeup on him to give him the frostbite effect. So when he suddenly announced he had to go to Tina’s party to deal, you were annoyed. You tried not to nag, even though you hated the sound of your voice at this point. Plus, he promised it would only be an hour tops, and then you could get takeout with some of his earnings so that you couldn’t complain, especially when he looked at you with those eyes. You could never say no.

You weren’t the biggest fan of drugs or him dealing them; you knew he was better than that life. But you understood how hard things were on him and his uncle, so as long as it wasn’t forever, it wasn’t really bad drugs, you let it be. You never liked to be around when he dealt, though. Something about watching it made you feel weird. You could never explain why. Eddie was kind, though, and he never did anything in front of you. He didn’t even smoke weed, especially after that one time when he got super paranoid and scared you. You weren’t part of that life. You didn’t do drugs, you didn’t drink, and you didn’t party. It’s not that you were boring. It was just never you. Hey, maybe you were boring, but at least you didn't need drugs to enjoy yourself. You liked to be in control.

You are currently leaning against the countertop in the kitchen, sticking out like a sore thumb with a Coke in your hand. You look at the clock, he’s 30 minutes late. You were trying to turn a new leaf, so you were trying to be understanding, even if his time-wasting was cutting into your Halloween plans. You couldn’t take your eyes off the clock, not like there were other things to watch at this party: teenagers making out, getting too drunk or being sick. The clock seemed more appealing. When it hit the 2-hour mark, you started worrying, so you looked for him. What you didn’t expect to find was him in the garden with a blunt in his hand and his other hand on a blonde’s thigh.

The voice in your head telling you not to nag was now becoming quieter with how annoyed you were. He ditched you, and he was smoking, which showed he had no intention of continuing your plans. He just wanted to get high and laid. “Eddie!” you said loud and stern enough for him to hear you, but too high he was in his bubble with his girl for the night. “Edward Munson!” you said louder; he only ever hears that name when in trouble, so subconsciously, he straightened his back and tried to hide the blunt, failing miserably. He turned around to face you, he waved “Hi darling”. You glared at him. “Are you high, darling?” a mocking tone coming from your voice, using his usual pet name for you against him.

He pitched his fingers together “a little”. Eddie always thought you looked cute when you were mad; he usually tried to get you a little angry so he could see that face. Usually, though, he could hide his smile and keep a straight face since he was sober. But now, when he tried to keep a straight face, he couldn’t; even more irritating for you, he couldn't stop giggling, making the girl to his right giggle, too. “If you wanted to go party instead, you should have told me; you didn’t need to lie”. If Eddie were sober, he would see how hurt you were, but in his mind, this was a joke, “you don’t have to stay. You can go home and watch the films. Tell me what happens”. You freeze; this is why you hated High Eddie; he never realised how hurtful he came across. How selfish he became. And when he finally sobers up enough to realise you must forgive him because he ‘wasn’t in his right mind’. It’s a frustrating cycle, which is why he stopped smoking in front of you. Except for now, apparently. That’s probably why he ditched you so that you wouldn’t find out.

Hurtful words were on your tongue, but you were in your right mind, so you could never say them. You knew you wouldn’t mean them. You were just hurt, so you stormed off straight out the front door, but when you made it to the front porch, it was like you were stuck in glue. You couldn’t leave whether he was being a dick or not. He was still your best friend, and you need to ensure he was safe. He shouldn’t drive high, and knowing him, he would try. So you waited. You couldn’t go back into the hell hole that was Tina’s Halloween party, so you waited on a porch swing. The air was bitter tonight, so you were glad your costume provided a jumper, not that it looked like a costume anymore without a partner to go with it.

Your eyes were drifting shut with how tired and bored you were, that was until you heard a huge slam come from beside you, making you flinch. You weren’t the only one having a terrible time at this party; Steve was having an even worse one. “You got cigarettes?”. He didn’t look at you, so you didn’t realise he was talking to you. That was until you felt his glare burning into you. You knew that look wasn’t meant for you, but it still made you feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was due to the shots you could tell he had taken from the blue tint to his lips, or perhaps he had gotten into a fight. But this look wasn’t meant for you, but it didn't make it any less scary when you were in his firing line. “Huh?”. With the way he spoke to you next, you could have sworn you had done something to hurt his feelings. “Are you deaf I said do you have any smokes?” he spoke slowly like you were a dumb child. He tutted at you and turned away from you “bullshit”. He kept repeating like a madman.

Jesus, was he that addicted to nicotine, you thought. Even if he did make you feel a little uncomfortable, especially since you knew he was a jock, and even though they didn’t necessarily pick on you because, in their words, “you were a girl,” they bullied your friends so you knew how bad they could be. But even for a jock, this was dramatic “fucking hell, I’m sorry, I don’t have any” you said a little sarcastically. He stopped his repetition and looked over his shoulder at you. “What?” He said with anger still laced in his voice, like you did anything to deserve his rage. You didn’t know why you were wasting your breath on him, but Eddie had pissed you off, and you needed to get the annoyance out somehow. “Are you deaf? I said I’m sorry, I don’t have any”.

He thought he knew girls well, but after tonight, he wasn’t sure, and he didn’t want to figure out what was wrong with you either. He couldn’t be bothered by the grief. “Fuck off”. You couldn’t tell if his words were in reaction to what you said or if he meant it. That was until he repeated it, and you saw the look on his face, and the tears in his eyes that he didn’t realise were there. You didn’t know what was happening with him, but it was not your place to sort it. You were making it worse.

So you went back into the party, to look for two people, firstly Tommy Hagan everyone knew he was Harrington’s best friend, so even if you didn’t like Tommy you couldn’t leave someone when they were like that. It would only make you as bad as them. You found him around the beer pong table. You lightly tapped his shoulder as you couldn’t deal with another boy's wrath tonight. He turned around, looking you up and down, smirking. “What are you supposed to be a virgin?” You rolled your eyes. You knew you could think of a comeback and put him in his place, but now wasn’t the time; you needed to get him outside, and you didn’t want to announce that his friend, the king of Hawkin High, was crying on the lawn in front of everyone. You weren't cruel. “Can you just come outside with me?” The room erupted into “oh”, as if you were suggesting something sexual. “Wait, was I right about the virgin thing? Is the freak not giving you any? Do you want a real man instead?” He said, getting closer to you. He smelt of beer and body odour, but you let him closer so you could whisper in his ear. “Your boy is outside, and something’s happened. I’d go and sort it if I was you”. He looked at you confused and nodded. He walked out, but not before smacking you on the ass. “I’ll see you later, darling?”. God, he was the most enormous prick. You couldn’t hold your tongue anymore. “Is that with your girlfriend or alone?”.

Eddie came sauntering alone into the room after hearing your voice, “I hope you’re not starting fights”, he said, putting his arm around your shoulder out of comfort. You ignored his question, not wanting to get into it now. “You ready to go?” You looked at him and weakly smiled. Eddie couldn’t tell, though he was still high as a kite, just in the mellow stage, so all he could see was you smiling. You took the keys out of his pocket and led him to the van. On your way out, you walked past Tommy and Steve on the porch swing. Steve’s leg bounced. “She said we were bullshit”, he kept repeating; you were glad Eddie wasn’t sober enough to hear it. Otherwise, he would definitely use it against him. Everything about his mood towards you started to make sense. He and Nancy had clearly broken up. So you gave him a smile and a nod of acknowledgement as you left, which he only glared at. You didn't mind, though you were just glad he wasn’t alone, even if that meant being with Tommy.

You drove Eddie home, struggling to get his dead weight onto the bed and to get his shoes off. You were about to leave for your car outside when Eddie's hand grabbed for yours. “Stay”. This used to be one of the only things you liked about him being high, the cuddles and needing attention. However, right now, this was probably the worst thing for your heart when you were trying to get over him, but when you looked at his face, how could you say no if that made him happy, even if it would end up hurting you.

Let me know if you wanna be tagged in the future

Masterlist here if you are interested

[dreamsinarcadia]

Mistletoe (Part 2)

In which Heung-min and his best friend find themselves under the mistletoe over the years (and he’s pretty much to blame for it)

Pairing: Sonny x bestfriend!reader

Warning: flufffffff

Note: The photo above is how I picture Sonny’s mother looking at her child towards the end of this chapter

⬅️ Part 1

13 years old

Enduring a shiver so strong that it rattled her bones, she had to physically stop herself from launching a frying pan at Heung-min’s head. “Never, in my thirteen years of existence on this planet, have I been this cold before,” she mumbled under breath, teeth still chattering furiously from the unforgiving frost she had been forced to endure just an hour earlier.

Was football practice even worth it? Especially when she wasn’t even a football player to begin with? No. Absolutely not. She liked books and eating biscuits in the warm comfort of her bed, for crying out loud!

But then again, she would rather dig her own grave with a soup spoon than admit that seeing the smile on Heung-min’s face today made the possibility of losing her toes to frostbite worth it. Almost worth it… almost.

He was busy flying around his kitchen, trying his best to balance the massive basin (usually reserved for his mother’s kimchi stock), the kettle and a dish towel. Ambling towards his frozen friend, he bent forward to allow her to carefully collect the kettle and dish towel from his arms.

“I told you to wear extra layers,” he chided gently and sniffed. The tip of his nose could honestly have given Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer a run for his money.

She made a show of sniffing back just as obnoxiously as possible. “Did you? Did you really? Or did you break into my room at the crack of dawn and yell at me to get my ass out of bed?”

“Um, yes. I said ‘layers’ four times, and I know this because I counted.” He pulled out a chair to sit down in front of her, bending over to set the basin down with enough force to have the water slosh around and speckle the floorboards. “But when have you ever in your life listened to a single word of wisdom from me?”

“Start saying wise things and I just might listen.”

"Well, I was nice and warm until someone stole my scarf and gloves," he teased, ignoring her little remark to glance over at her bundled up nice and warm in his woollen scarf - a gift that had been hand knitted by her mother three Christmases ago.

The gloves and scarf gloves thief in question merely grinned as she carefully poured the hot water into the basin. As soon as it was warm enough, Heung-min gestured for her to put her feet in. Soon, the sounds of giggles filled the small kitchen as they knocked ankles and toes to try and find a comfortable spot in the warmth of the basin. She remained silent for a moment, letting her gaze map the features of his face. He was awfully close. “Count yourself lucky that I didn’t take your hat,” she mumbled under her breath.

“I’ll be sure to thank my ancestors.”

It was blissfully warm again. Soon enough, her teeth stopped chattering and the shivers stopped wracking her frame. She closed her eyes to revel in the moment and decided to ignore the sudden slosh of water as Heung-min removed his feet from the basin. Suddenly, it felt a little colder.

Wordlessly, Heung-min began working himself around the kitchen to pour some hot tea from the flask his mother always kept on hand at the dining table. With a quick glance back at his friend (who was either dead or snoozing), he rushed upstairs to his room to grab something.

By the time he arrived back in the kitchen to grab the mugs from the table, she had already opened her eyes to glare balefully at him. “Get your toes in here, the water’s getting cold.”

A smile erupted on his face. She was just so darn cute when pretending to be angry at him.

“Yes boss.” He carried the mugs of tea forward and sat back down, only to hold them well away from her grabby little hands when she attempted to reach for one.

“What—“

“The tea is yours for the low price of one kiss.”

Oh for…

She had to resist the urge to roll her eyes when he set his mug aside to pull out a familiar sprig of basil leaves from his pocket. He wiggled it enticingly between their heads. She really had to start hiding her mother’s pot of beloved plants from this boy.

She weighed her option. Was she still cold? Sort of. Did she like tea? Yes. Did she like Heung-min? That was an answer to debated over another day. Honestly speaking, it really was a small price to pay for the tea. It smelled positively heavenly.

And so, with little consideration for Heung-min’s blood pressure, she clamped her hands on his shoulders to yank him forward and place a quick kiss, that lasted no longer than a second, right on the corner of his lips.

It was only a little while later that his mother discovered his son sitting alone in the kitchen with his feet in her precious kimchi basin and a mug of cold tea on the floor. She merely shook her head at the way he was smiling dopily down at a bunch of leaves in his hands, a dreamy expression on his face and quite possibly the reddest nose and ears she’d seen on a child.

“Heung-min?”

“Yes?”

“Are those Mrs. Jeon’s basil leaves?”

“… please don’t tell her.”

Part 3 ➡️

•

Author’s Note: I started a Christmas fic in December and we are well into July 🥲

[channoticedmeuwu]

IMAGINE . . . SPENDING CHRISTMAS WITH BEOMGYU !!

p — CHOI BEOMGYU × FEM!READER | g — fluff, crack, boyfie!gyu, tom&jerry dynamics ++ texts | w — food, dick jokes, fart jokes, cringe but in a cute way?

a/n — kind of loving anything boyfriend!gyu these days, expect more. yippee.

💽 ( SONG_REC. ) “LAST TRAIN AT 25 O'CLOCK” — LAMP

beomgyu, who loves to cuddle up to you on a particularly cold night, burying his face in your chest as he begs asks you to play with his hair. beomgyu, who watches the expression on your face as you watch your fav show on your laptop, often forgetting about him (absolutely freezing to death) as you reach over towards the bag of snacks towards your side. and he mumbles all grumpy, complaining he's “this close to frostbite,” pausing the show by himself so he could earn a reaction, already glaring at you when you look down to reason with him.

and beomgyu, who trots over to you in the kitchen with a mischievous smile as the snowy rain pitter patters against the windowpane, watching attentively while he laces his fingers around your tummy, allowing you to pull him around the kitchen as you cook. and sometimes, he'd sneak a handful of flour while you're too busy paying attention to the stove— blowing a cloud onto your face and clutching his stomach as he falls to the ground, laughing as a pair of unimpressed eyes on a white, blank face stare back. and he returns with a wet towel, wiping your face and cooing at how cute you look, always so easy to annoy.

and snowy nights where he refuses to leave the house, cuddling up into a human burrito in one of those blankets that look like flatbread— grounded on his spot on the couch as you pull and tug his legs, fully clothed in warm clothes. and sometimes, he sends a kick to your grip around his ankles, making you fall flat on your behind with the weight of your layers. and he giggles at you and your lost face, before realizing he's supposedly giving you the silent treatment, and goes back to focusing on the television. and you stand to your feet, unzipping your jacket(s) and lean over from behind the couch, wrapping your arms around him. and you start peppering him with kisses, mumbling in between how you wish you could spend chrismas eve with him outside, running your fingers through his hair and letting your nose brush against his as you lean in for another kiss. and you'd get the boy dizzy— lips curling into a hazy smile as he nods, standing to his feet to get a jacket and a beanie, hearts circling around his head like a birds do around a cartoon character.

and you'd wake up a snowy morning to beomgyu lazily pressing a peck to your forehead, eyebrows furrowed as he whispered something about running an errand. and you just shrugged, glancing over to the clock blinking 4AM as you turned over and fell back asleep. and then waking up hours later to texts from beomgyu — a picture of an obnoxious penis drawn on the neighbors car in the snow, and a grumpy text that ended with a period, stating breakfast would be late because of the traffic he's stuck in.

and beomgyu's loud voice echoing in the house as he played games on his computer, the fresh scent of cookie dough wafting around his room as he stuffed his face with the gingerbread cookies you were baking. and him wearing a small christmas hat, the white pom-pom drooping over the side of his head as he screamed “VICTORY!!!!!” and standing to his feet to wiggle a small dance— stopping mid dance to see you, standing by the doorframe with a camera and a cookie in your hand.

and you tricking beomgyu— knowing a game he wanted for the longest time and purposely packing socks into a box the perfect size of his gift, so it appeared as if you got him what he wanted. and you pulled out a video camera as he tore open the wrapping paper, the expression on his face dropping as he pulled out a pair of socks with ramen designs on them, asking him eagerly, “WHAT DO YOU THINK?” and you'd stifle your giggles as you'd record him trying to give you a happy face, masking his disappointment with fake enthusiasm, “its— it's the perfect size.....” and you'd tell him to look behind the couch, following him as he'd glance behind and see a console he was trying to save for months, holding his gift while his jaw went slack, “WHERE DID YOU GET THIS!?”

and beomgyu squeezing you through a huge crowd so you'd be able to see the countdown to new years— his hands gripping yours tightly as he shot you back smiles and whispered jokes only you could hear, his warm breath and stupid humor making you crack up and receive looks from people around, but it's not like the both of you cared about that besides each other.

and watching the fireworks with beomgyu— him whispering that's, “exactly what my farts look like,” and watching you with heart shaped pupils, laughing at his childish jokes, slapping his arm in attempts to shut him up and clutching your stomach. and maybe grabbing ice cream afterwards, him wiping his ice cream off his nose after every lick and offering you one— and pushing it to your face as you came closer for a taste, making your entire mouth wet from the ice cream. and he'd laugh and click photos of you while you stood with a poker face, glancing to the cashier pressing their lips together as they stifled a chuckle.

and beomgyu, who'd take pictures of the two of you in matching hello kitty pajamas and making you his profile picture on every platform. just beomgyu, who secretly loves to watch your features relax as you drift off to sleep while you hide your face in his neck. the snow was drizzling and blurry blobs of fairy lights blinked outside the window, as his fingers rubbed the skin on your hips— tuning out the boring christmas specials to focus on you, falling asleep in his arms.

☆ BONUS !

INCOMING TEXTS FROM BEOMGYU

txt — masterlist

main taglist (hmu to get added!) — @koishua @navyhyuck @allegxdly @daystiny  @kdyism  @neotism  @bluejaem  @radiorenjun  @sleepylixie @oifelixcmerebrou @mrkcore @imdamnconfused  @sicluvz @abhirami20 @tyongishs @emvrd @brxght-world @1921choi @bangchansbae

I’d appreciate if you’d give me a little feedback on the drabble if you read, whether it’s an ask, a reply or in the tags of the rb! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

[mokulule]

Hi there! Regarding the tag game; I'd like to hear about the 'Danny is Jason's Parole Officer' WIP, please!

Ah yeah that is a silly one it starts like this:

Walker looked down at the disgusting pink skinned felon. Glistening red flowed down from the split eyebrow and over the swollen shut right eye, down the cheek to drip onto the ground; blood, corrosive life liquid. Like every time since he first laid eyes on the law breaker he was repulsed by this one’s stubborn choice to wear a meat suit. Every moment he refused to show his true form was another year laid on his sentence.

The unhurt left eye glared at him and his teeth were bared in a snarl like an animal. Walker did not doubt that if his officers didn’t keep a firm grip on him that he would attack Walker himself. It wouldn’t be the first time. He doubted anyone on staff could claim to not have felt this particular felon’s punches and kicks. Walker could still feel a soreness in his jaw from this latest escape, but unlike the felon he wasn’t wearing a disgusting meat suit so his damage didn’t show.

“Take him to his cell.” Walker waved them away. It had taken much too long to recapture the abomination this time. He’d managed to free Vortex during the latest riot and the chaos that had wrought had made them lose the immediate trail.

Both Vortex and Walker’s newest core-ache had escaped much further than was good.

The accursed half-breed had of course been delighted when he brought Vortex back, full of digs about Walker’s ability to do his job. Walker’s threats to put him in a cell where he belonged was just met with a laugh and challenge. One he hadn’t been able to take up since he needed the special cell for the escaped convict who started this mess.

But now he was recaptured and Walker could finally go to the council meeting.

Oo o oO

Walker finished delivering his report, it was most dissatisfying to look at the numbers. While they had managed to recapture all but a few spirits, some they had lost track of - Walker might have to petition Skulker to bring them back, he did not look forward to that. Break outs had risen exponentially since he first arrested the abomination. The situation was untenable, but it was not in his nature to give up.

The esteemed council members Frostbite of the Far Frozen and Pandora of the Acropolis looked at him in concern. It was Frostbite who ended up speaking.

“Perhaps, if this inmate troubles you so, it is a matter for the Great One.”

“That delinquent should be imprisoned right alongside him. I do not need his help,” Walker snarled

Both Frostbite and Pandora sent him displeased disappointed looks at that and Walker had to look away.

“What I meant, was that you could put this prisoner in the Great One’s custody and it would be his responsibility to make sure he doesn’t cause trouble.”

Walker huffed and stood up. “I will consider it.”

A few hours later Walker was frozen at the edge of his haunt to see his prison, his lair, once more in chaos.

Something cracked inside him.

Fine.

The abomination would be the half-breed’s problem.

So this is the beginning of the fic, what follows is Danny helping Jason home to the living realm and then as a joke claiming he's Jason's parole officer - a joke that might be taken a bit too far for the paranoid batfamily...

WIP game post

[roarri]

Frozen Fire Chapter 17

As usual, I suck at posting these when the fic updates, but I realized today that Frozen Fire is officially one year old!!! Makes me happy. :) Anyway, enjoy!

“I want to help,” Sam announced one morning at breakfast.

The breakfast table had gone silent.

Frostbite frowned at her, a steaming mug raised to his muzzle, while Tsuel turned to face her with brows raised in mild surprise. Elle didn’t say anything, though she, too, stared at Sam, albeit through narrowed eyes. Meanwhile, Phantom—no, Danny—simply arched a brow at her, smiling faintly, as if already amused by whatever bullshit he assumed she was about to spew at them. In the week that had followed their little moonlit tryst, he’d taken to simply smirking at her when she talked at breakfast, which she was certain he did just to irritate her.

Sam met every one of their stares, her face set and determined.

“Help with what, Sam?” Frostbite asked.

“Defending the Far Frozen during the raids,” she said. “I want to help fight.”

Frostbite sighed wearily and set his mug down on the table. “You know I cannot condone that.”

“Sleetjaw cleared me for physical training yesterday,” she said, undeterred as she’d been expecting his pushback. Arms still crossed, she jerked her chin at Tsuel. “Ask her, she was there.”

Before Tuel could respond, Frostbite said, “I am well aware of what Sleetjaw has told you, human girl, but that does mean I can in good conscience send you to fight. You are still untrained.”

She gave him her best are-you-stupid look. “Untrained? I’ve been fighting these fuckers for years.”

“She does have a point there, father,” Danny said. He winked at her shocked expression. “She is quite renowned in her world for her talents.”

Elle snorted quietly into her breakfast at that, to which Danny responded with a warning look. Unperturbed, Elle smirked right back at him.

Frostbite glanced between all three of them in irritation. “Yes, a formidable human she is, but she has not fought draugrs.”

“Listen to Frostbite, Sam,” Tsuel said. “You do not yet know what you are up against.”

“Then show me,” she snapped. “Or train me, then. I’m not going to learn otherwise.”

Again, the breakfast table fell silent. This time, however, the silence was riddled with tension as the ghosts and yeti shared uneasy glances with each other.

“What is it?” Sam asked in a drawling monotone.

“It is just . . .” Tsuel started and trailed off, shaking her head.

“Those of us who wish to engage in the fighting are trained by Icefang,” Frostbite said.

“And me,” Elle said. Sam expected the ghost girl to be glaring at her, but she wasn’t. She was instead watching Sam carefully, her head tilted in a way that reminded Sam of her twin, and her expression was pensive.

“Yes, and my daughter,” Frostbite agreed. “You may not believe me, but I am not opposed to your learning, especially now that you are now healed enough to do so. But I understand that there is . . .” his muzzled twisted into a grimace, “tension, between you and he.”

“I’d train you myself, human, but I can’t do it without Icefang’s permission,” Elle said, “or I would dishonor what he’s taught me.”

Sam gaped at Elle. “Wait, you would?”

Elle’s face cracked into a wicked grin. “I’m always looking for new sparring partners.”

“Because a human with a sword against a ghost with super strength is a fair matchup,” Sam replied dryly.

Elle’s brows rose. “There’s more to swordplay than strength alone,” she said with a sincerity that, yet again, surprised Sam. “It’s very technical. Like dancing.”

Danny sighed heavily into his tea and said, “Sam has a gun, she doesn’t need a sword.”

“Says the loser who can’t beat his sister in a duel without his powers,” Elle snapped back.

He shrugged. “I don’t know how many times I can say the words archaic and unnecessary before you get them.”

“Maybe because not all of us can use our powers,” Elle said. Then she gestured across the table towards Sam. “Or even have powers, for the matter.”

Sam wanted to ask about Elle’s inability to use her ghost powers, and just as she opened her mouth to voice the question aloud, she decided against it. She was certain it wouldn’t go over well.

Perhaps she’d ask Danny about it the next time she caught him alone. Which was, unfortunately for her nosiness, a rare occurrence.

“Not only is it tradition, but it would be wise for Sam to learn our ways first,” Frostbite said. A strange expression had befallen his features, his icy claws rapping against the wooden top of the table. “It would be impractical to ignore such traditions in favor of clever inventions.”

Danny rolled his eyes and glanced at Sam with a look that said, ‘can you believe this guy?’

“Okay, well, then I guess that leaves us at an impasse then, huh?” Sam said.

“Not necessarily,” Danny said. “I could always take you to Pandora’s realm. She would be thrilled to teach you.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Elle said. “Pandora taught me a lot of what I know.”

Sam was shocked. “You mean, like go to another Realm?”

He nodded and grinned at her. “She wants to meet you anyway. What’s that expression you humans use? Two stones and a bird, or something?”

“It’s killing two birds with one stone,” Sam corrected.

“Well, that’s morbid.” Elle snickered. “I like it.”

“Why the hell does Pandora want to meet me?” Sam asked with an incredulous shake of her head. To say she gobsmacked was a colossal understatement.

At this, Danny’s eyes widened, and he looked away from her, his hand at the back of his neck like he was embarrassed. Sam didn’t miss the sly look that Elle shot him. “Oh, you know, something about the prophetical human who can touch the roses of her realm, and all that.”

“And we circle back to the Writings again,” Sam droned, “great.”

“The Writings are important,” Tsuel admonished, gently elbowing Sam’s side, “do not speak of them as if they are nothing.”

“Tsuel is right,” Frostbite said, “and that is also why Sam must learn our ways first. The Writings foretell of it.”

“Of course they do,” Sam drawled. “It would be too convenient for the plot otherwise.”

“Sam,” Tsuel chided again, “please do not be difficult. We get enough of such antics from the twin cubs.”

Elle raised her mug of tea in Sam’s direction, grinning. “Here, here!”

“Ignore my sister,” Danny said to Sam, “she’s a menace.”

Sam sighed wearily as she raked a hand through her hair. “Icefang hates me.” She ruminated on the feeling of his grip on her throat and the way he’d thrashed her about like a ragdoll and shuddered. “And I’m not his biggest fan either. Fuck that guy.”

“Icefang will teach you if I command it,” Frostbite said, “but I do not wish for it to come to that.”

“Dear cub,” Tsuel said, placing a gentle clawed hand on Sam’s shoulder, “perhaps you should talk to him.”

Sam looked at Tsuel like she’d just sprouted two heads. “Talk to Icefang?”

“Yes. I believe there is much you both may learn, and that it is imperative that you do so.”

Sam shook her head. Unconsciously, her fingers trailed along her neck with the shadow of memory. “So, he can finish killing me? Nooo thank you.”

“Thant won’t happen,” Danny muttered darkly as he stared at her hand. Did she imagine the way his eyes glowed a bit brighter, as if in anger?

“Icefang is a creature of honor,” Frostbite said. “My son is correct that such a thing will not happen.”

Sam leveled the Yeti King with an unimpressed look. “You sure put a lot of faith in honor.”

Suddenly, a rapid pattering of heavy footsteps sounded from the outside corridor, like something—or someone—was running, and a breathless Driftwind appeared in the kitchen’s entryway.

Frostbite stood so fast that his long tail sent his chair tilting and tumbling to the floor. “What is the meaning of this, Driftwind?” he demanded.

“My liege,” Driftwind sputtered through his gasps, claws braced against the wooden frame, “we . . . we are . . . well we—”

“Cease your ramblings and spit it out,” Frostbite growled.

Wild eyed, Driftwind glanced between them all, his large barrel chest rising and falling as he gasped desperately for air. Just how fast had he been running? Sam wondered. A sense of foreboding started to uncoil in the pit of her stomach.

She didn’t know how she knew, but she did, as if the imminence ran bone deep and was laced through every one of her muscle fibers. Without a shadow of a doubt, she knew that something was wrong. Horribly, terribly, wrong.

Their answer came when the entire castle rumbled. Dust fell from stone ceiling, landing like snowfall amidst the spread of breakfast platters. Dishes tumbled. Foxen scattered in a frenzy.

Just as Driftwind shouted, “We are being attacked!”

Everything that happened next came in quick succession.

Tsuel cried out and scrambled to her feet, racing for the door with Driftwind close behind her. Elle’s face hardened as she disappeared in a blur of power. Frostbite’s face darkened as he, too, dashed for the door, but before he disappeared through it, he turned to Danny and said, “Take Sam to her room at once!”

“No!” Sam shouted. “Let me help you guys! I can help!”

“No, Sam, you cannot,” Frostbite said. “They will kill you.”

She watched as Frostbite’s claws began to glow. The energy blossomed and then promptly coalesced into a long, frozen sword that dwarfed Sam in size. His red eyes were hard as he looked at her over his shoulder, long tail flicking and teeth bared, but not at her, she knew. This was a Yeti King ready for war.

“Stay here,” he commanded.

And then he was gone.

Sam immediately whirled to face Danny. “I’m not going to my room.”

He didn’t look happy about it, but said, “Okay.”

She thrust out her hand. “Take me with you. I can help. You know I can.”

“Sam, no. My father is right. You don’t have to go to your room, you can stay here, but—”

“No,” she ground out through gritted teeth.

“Sam, please. I need to go help them.”

He started to float, and she knew he was seconds away from going intangible and disappearing through the ceiling. Without thinking, she grasped his cloak and yanked on it, which didn’t do jack shit to a ghost as strong as he was, though it did keep him from disappearing, his face pained.

With a sigh, he drifted closer and grasped her shoulders, which surprised her, even in her fury. Despite them being on much friendlier terms, Danny still shied away from physical contact as much as possible. She stared up at him through frustrated tears.

“Draugrs don’t attack during the day,” he said. “Daylight is lethal to them. This is an extremely calculated attack, Sam. This is when the market is at its busiest.”

The reality of his words tumbled straight into her heart, making it heavy. “Then I should be out there helping them. Please, Ph—Danny. Please.”

She could tell how much saying his name aloud affected him by the way his grip tightened on her shoulders. He sighed again, laughing a little. “You are probably one of the bravest creatures I have ever met, but my father is right, you aren’t ready for this. Someday, sure. But not now.”

“Brave?” she said with an incredulous laugh. “How can I be brave if I’m in here hiding.”

“You are brave,” Danny countered fiercely. “I remember the fatally injured human who challenged a ghost she was certain was about to kill her.”

“Doesn’t count.That ghost had no intention of killing her or she’d be dead.”

“And that same ghost very much wants her not to die today, too.”

“Kind of a letdown, if you ask me. All that build up and it turns out the ghost that everyone is afraid of is a big softy.”

Before he could retort, the castle shook again, which made more dust fall. Danny shielded them from it with a burst of energy that formed a spiraling green dome above their heads. She couldn’t help but stare at it. Aside from Amity, she’d never seen him use ectoenergy in front of her.

“Sam, I have to go,” he said, his voice booming. She turned her attention back to him and blinked at the way his eyes glowed a bright acidic green. The room chilled considerably as his power eddied. In a voice brimming with that same power, he said, “Stay here.”

She watched with fascination as his entire form bristled with energy and went intangible. She felt the cold, deathlike chill of him brush past her, to the wall, before disappearing completely.

She was now alone.

The moments dragged on as the castle rumbled for the third time. Dishes on the table rattled, some falling to the floor and shattering, and she watched as the vase of Pandorian roses tilted and started to plummet as well.

Sam dove and caught the vase before it hit the ground. A nearby foxen whirled and watched her with wild eyes, its plumed tail spiked with alarm.  

“That was a close one, huh?” she asked it.

Its little nose twitched in response, before it turned and dashed for the nearest gap in stone, right behind the rest of the fleeing little creatures.

Sam stared at the green flowers in her hands. They shifted to a brilliant violet as she moved them, and then plunged into a deep, velvety black by the time she returned them to their place at the center of the table. She stared at them for a while, imagining the dark sky they now reminded her of—of the stars and moons and waltzing neons, and of the beautiful world all those things belonged to.

A beautiful world that was now under attack.

[fandom-reblog-central]

Fandom (dpxdc) Thought 2.5:

Context: Halfa!Jason Todd, ghosts communicate through emotions, liminals can do it to a lesser extent

Jason unknowingly keeps trying to push emotions to his family, not realizing he’s trying to communicate. With his family’s awkward outward reactions combined with the lack of response to his core, he feels isolated. Even thought it’s an accident on both ends, it has an effect on him.

To make it a bit worse, the batfam is liminal with all the death in the family and Lazarus exposure. They accidentally reject the emotional conversation from Jason’s core, so neither party knows why Jason is so on edge, but they don’t push for answers.

Danny (bad reveal, good reveal, literally Just Vibing in Gotham—whatever works) hears Damian’s core humming or trying to trill/chirp, and of course he has to help the sick liminal/baby-halfa core. With a LOT of bonding, Danny gets Damian to drink some healthy ectoplasm, and he feels a lot better. He even brings Jason over, knowing the connection to the Pit was stronger in his older brother and wanting to extend an olive branch after the… everything.

Once Jason starts feeling better and Frostbite is brought into the conversation, Damian realizes he can’t hide this from Bruce forever. And, with how many people in his family—hell, his contact list—had been exposed to the Lazarus pit, or gotten caught up in time shenanigans, or had been killed, it was best everyone knew. With Danny’s only request being “say I’m a meta instead of a ghost,” Damian goes to his father’s study.

(Forgive the ooc/awkwardness I don’t normally write fanfic lmao)

Damian entered Bruce’s study. “Father. I have something to inform you of. We have made a terrible mistake with Jason.”

Bruce’s train of thought pauses at hearing his youngest call Jason “Jason” instead of “Todd.” He looks up from his WE paperwork. “What is it, chum? Is he okay? Are you okay?”

“We are both well, Father. It is…” He grimaced and visibly tensed. “You have to promise to not be angry with me.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at hearing his youngest say such a “childish” phrase. “I will do my best. I’ll at least let you finish talking first.”

He knew this was the right thing to say when Damian relaxed slightly. Therapy was a wonder.

“Um…”

Oh. Oh no. Damian Al-Ghul-Wayne was not one for uncertainty—especially not in a conversation he started.

“Go on, lad, I’m listening,” Bruce said in as gentle a tone as he could (without getting too patronizing for his proud little Robin).

“I met a meta of a ghostly nature. He assessed that there was Lazarus Water in my body, and when he replaced it—“

“He what.”

“You said you’d let me finish.”

Bruce pulled out a notepad, jotting down bullet points to return to.

[Pit in Damian?? REPLACED?? Unknown ghost meta]

“Once he replaced it with the healthy alternative, I found…” He swallowed. “I found that I could more easily accept and show love. My time in the League played a part, of course. However, the Lazarus Pit had an effect on me as well, latching onto my desire to be worthy of a place here. I essentially have a rudimentary organ that runs on and communicates via emotion. Jason does as well, and his is stronger than mine. We have unknowingly been rejecting this more emotional form of communication, making him feel unaccepted and misunderstood.”

[emotional organ??? Accidental rejection? Possible to learn emotion communication?]

Damian shifted his weight under his father’s intense and worried Interrogation Glare™️. “Now that we know the problem, and are attempting to rectify it, we feel much better. Due to everyone around us being exposed to death, the Pit, or time travel, Jason, the meta, and myself thought it best if everyone was made aware. Our meta friend has a doctor who has specialized in this organ and the culture surrounding it for decades. He can apparently better help us manage our health alongside a regular physician.”

[meta doctor. Contact… everyone]

Bruce set his pen down and didn’t move for a few moments. “Are you finished?”

Damian nodded. “Are you angry?”

Bruce let out a long breath, closing his eyes. “I can never tell. Fear and rage feel a lot alike when it comes to protecting my family and my city. You’ve gone against a lot of my training, which displeases me, but I still love you, and I always will. We’ll see what your punishment is when I get more details. I don’t want to punish you for good outcomes, but the methods are important, especially in our work and at your age—“

“You can stop now, Father. I understand now what Drake means when he says he doesn’t know how to respond to the sincerity therapy has given you. I’ll gather the family for a debrief.”

Bruce opened his eyes to see his youngest wincing a little at the emotional vulnerability, but something else caught his attention.

His son’s green eyes faded to blue.