#immediately thought oh danny would definitely say this

[hopeless--light]

At a wayne gala somewhere

Vlad: This is my son Daniel Masters

Danny: its Daniel Fenton not Masters. I'm his Godson but call me Danny

Damian: Damian Wayne. Nice to meet you, Fenton.

Danny: oh government name. Spicy

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Constantine Is Having Fae Problems

Not as in 'problems with the fae', but as in 'the Batfam don't understand shit about fae and it is somehow Constantine's problem'

"Thank you."

Whatever thoughts Constantine had before come to a screeching halt. He slowly turns around, praying he's misheard, but, unfortunately, no. He heard that right.

The black-haired kid - he looks like a kid, but, really, he is not, and he is not even human to begin with - is smiling at Nightwing, who just laughs and ruffles the boy's hair.

"Don't worry about it, it's nothing," the moronic eldest batkid says, like it's not a big deal, and Constantine just... can't. He is not dealing with this right now. He needs a drink.

And then it happens again. Not with the Nightwing, though. This time, it's Black Bat. Now, in all honesty, Constantine is not so sure about her being human either, what with her appearing out of goddamn aether and being silent as a ghost, but the point still stands. The new addition to Bat's menagerie of children, the fae boy, the changeling who insists he is Robin's brother, thanks her.

It's quick and easy, just like a human would say it, and Black Bat just nods back at him, but Constantine knows what it means. He knows the weight of fae gratitude.

The big question is, do the Bats know it?

He promises himself to address this issue later with the Big Bat himself. But every time he encounters the man, he just forgets to bring it up. Constantine strongly suspects it's not his bad memory at fault here, but a certain fae. Not that he is going to outright go and blame the damned creature, of course, Constantine values his life, mind, and consciousness. Also, he is very aware of the consequences of talking to the fae, unlike the furry brigade.

Alas, he can't forget something if he witnesses with his own eyes. So the next time he is in the Batcave, he makes it a point to wait until the same thing eventually happens. And, score for Constantine, it does.

"Thank you," the kid - again, not a kid, not a human, but whatever - tells Red Robin, and Constantine immediately snaps his head to him, pointing a finger at the smiling fae.

"I mean no disrespect, but what are you doing?"

The kid - Danny, as he insists to be called, although Constantine knows better than to call a fae by any name - tilts his head to the side. He looks confused, but there's a sly glint to his blue eyes. Oh, the fucker knows exactly what he means. He just doesn't want to admit to it.

"What do you mean?" It's not him, but Red Robin asking, and Constantine turns to look him in the eyes. Mask. Whatever.

"He is thanking-" a terrible thought crosses Constantine's mind, and he stares at Red Robin with horror, "Oh, don't tell me you were all thanking him and apologizing to him like he is a human being."

"I don't see how this is your business," Red Robin scolds, and his eyes narrow. Constantine can't see his actual eyes through the mask, but he knows the Bats well enough to know the kid looks as deadpan as he can.

"You can't do that!" He reaches down to the pocket where he keeps his cigarettes, but stops halfway. Right, no smoking in the Batcave. Wait, he never obeyed that rule! Constantine turns to glare at the fae boy. Danny appears as innocent as a newborn baby. Little bastard.

"Quit making a scene," comes another voice, and this one John recognizes, turning to look at little Robin. Now that he thinks about it, the demonic child claimed the fae as his brother, and he definitely should know how to talk to fae!

"Why didn't you tell them about the rules?!" He asks Robin, and the kid doesn't even bat an eye at him.

"You will not accuse me of incompetence in front of my brother," Robin huffs, not stepping closer and keeping one hand on his hip, "I did."

"You-"

"Okay, how about you calm down?" Danny interjects, and John is positive this is the first time he's heard the boy say anything other than 'thank you'. He turns to the fae, facing him, and, oh, Jesus, those are not human eyes. Or teeth. Or face. Holy fuck how do Bats live with this, it's like uncanny valley but hundreds times worse.

"If I tell you I use it for easier access, will you leave it be?" The fae tilts his head again, and this time it is not in confusion, but in the eerie manner of how all very much not human beings do it. Constantine swallows, but doesn't back down.

"Access to what, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Transportation," Danny provides. This does not explain shit and he knows it. Red Robin groans and rolls his eyes.

"We use it to summon Danny if we need him. It's faster than calling or texting."

Constantine freezes.

These fucking kids. Are using the fae debts. To summon him. Because they don't like texting.

Do they know that they can literally ask a fae to destroy a small country to fulfill a debt like that? It's not just a small favor, it's a gratitude. Fae take their gratitude very seriously. They value it. A lot.

Actually, you know what, no. John is not going to be explaining that part to them because God knows the batkids are all batshit crazy and this is an opportunity he is not willing to give them.

So he just nods stiffly, turns around, and heads to the zeta tube.

"Thank you for caring about my family," he hears a voice behind him, full of mischief and joy. Constantine feels the weight of the newly acquired debt, or better call it a favor, bind itself to his soul, and, great, he now has the power to part the sea like Moses, but only once.

He needs a drink. No, correction, he needs a whole bar to himself.

Wait, that's an idea.

"Get me a bottle of good bourbon, and we're even," he throws around his shoulder, stepping into a zeta tube.

When he steps out of it, there's an unlabeled bottle in his hand. John sighs and opens it, foregoing the glass or cup and drinking straight from the neck.

...It's good bourbon.

Inspired by @blackfoxsposts

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[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake – From Vigilante to Infinite Realms Royalty

It was one of those things that Tim never imagined would happen, not in his wildest Gotham nights. But then again, dating Danny Fenton, aka Danny Phantom, the Ghost King, came with more than just the usual paranormal hijinks.

Tim was used to strange things, but being royalty? That was definitely new.

The revelation hit him one evening when Danny casually mentioned it, like he was talking about the weather.

“You know you’re technically royalty now, right?” Danny said, lounging upside down in the air like it was the most normal thing ever.

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Royalty? What are you talking about?”

Danny grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Well, you’re dating me. And I’m the King of the Infinite Realms. So that makes you my consort… which, you know, technically makes you royalty too.”

Tim froze. “Wait—what? That’s not how this works. I didn’t sign up for—”

“Oh, but it is how it works. Welcome to ghost politics, Drake.”

And that’s when Tim realized his life just got infinitely more complicated.

Naturally, the bats found out. Because of course they did. And it spiraled into something Tim really didn’t want to deal with.

It started when he casually mentioned it during a meeting in the Batcave. He figured it wasn’t a big deal. After all, being ‘royalty’ in a ghost dimension didn’t really change anything, right?

Wrong.

Bruce didn’t even flinch. He just kept typing at the Batcomputer. “You’re dating the Ghost King, and now you’re royalty?”

“Technically, yes,” Tim said, trying not to sound too defensive.

Bruce glanced at him. “I see.”

That was all he said. But it was enough to make Tim feel like he’d just announced he was moving to the moon.

Jason, of course, immediately jumped on it. “Hold up. So you’re, like, ghost royalty now? Does that mean you get a crown or something?”

Tim shot him a glare. “No, I’m not getting a crown.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Jason grinned. “Sounds like royalty to me. Next thing you know, we’re gonna be bowing to Prince Drake of the Phantom Zone.”

“It’s not the Phantom Zone, Todd.”

Damian, predictably, was furious. “This is ridiculous. You, Drake? Royalty? You are not fit for any throne, especially one in the Infinite Realms. The entire concept is absurd.”

Tim sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’m not ruling anything, Damian. It’s just a title.”

“An unearned one,” Damian muttered under his breath.

Steph, on the other hand, thought it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. “Wait, wait. So if you and Danny are together for real, does that mean we have to call you ‘Your Highness’? I need to know. Are there royal ghost duties? Do you have to make decrees?”

“No. Please stop,” Tim groaned.

But the worst part? The teasing didn’t stop. Every dinner, every mission, every time Tim walked into the room, someone had something to say.

“So, Tim,” Dick said one day with a grin. “Have you started planning ghostly state visits yet? I’m sure the Justice League would love to attend a royal banquet in your honor.”

“No state visits,” Tim said through gritted teeth. “I don’t even rule anything.”

“Sure you don’t, ‘Your Ghostliness,’” Jason added with a laugh.

The bats seemed to think it was the funniest thing in the world. Tim? Not so much. But he had to admit, ghost politics were no joke. He was already getting drawn into weird Infinite Realms power struggles, where ancient beings would bow to him and ghosts would whisper about “the King’s consort.”

At first, Tim tried to play it off. He didn’t need the title. He wasn’t about to walk around with a crown and robes, or start making royal proclamations. But when one of the ghost courtiers addressed him as “My Lord,” he couldn’t help but cringe.

Danny found the whole thing hilarious. “Don’t worry,” he’d say with a smirk. “You won’t have to do anything royal. It’s just… a perk.”

“Some perk,” Tim muttered.

Still, despite all the teasing and the bizarre ghostly politics, Tim knew one thing for sure: he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Dating Danny came with chaos, sure. But at the end of the day, Tim was okay with it. Even if it meant being ghost royalty.

Just… no crown. Ever.

[goinggoingghone]

dp x dc au but danny is bruce's biological kid and he knows it. his parents straight up told him as soon as he was old enough to know, and he loves his adopted parents all the same.

of course, it was a bit rocky with all that ghost business, but eventually Jack and Maddie came around to their halfa son and liminal daughter. Danny just thought it was funny they took longer to accept he was alive and dead than accepting he was in a relationship with Sam and Tucker.

So there's some ghost conference in Gotham being held by the GIW in order to get more occultists/people interested in ghosts to work for them. The Fentons go there, as published ghost scientists, to expose the GIW and prevent people from buying into their beliefs.

But while they're out, one of the Bats mistakes Danny for a younger Bruce. Of course there are some differences, but the Bat (I'm thinking Tim, who's running on like -16 hours of sleep and several cups of coffee) is convinced he's a clone or something. So he takes a DNA sample and the results come out: he's Bruce's kid.

Bruce is devastated that he couldn't be there for one of his kids, and so he tries to get more info in order to possibly get custody back. Tucker, who accidentally found the network the Batcomputer used three weeks ago while looking for the GIW's, is immediately aware they're looking into Danny.

The Fentons have a collective moment of "oh for fuck's sake" and try to come up with a plan to get Bruce Wayne, who definitely is Batman at this point, to get off their case.

While on a walk to get his thoughts in order, Danny runs into Red Hood in Crime Alley. Both of them are immediately aware of the other for vastly different reasons. Jason, for "Batman wants to adopt this kid who already has a family" and Danny, for "oh shit this guy has a fucked up core what the hell is wrong with this guy" they have a Spiderman meme moment and Red Hood, always on the lookout for an opportunity to spite Bruce, offers his help. Danny accepts, with the caveat that he takes Jason to the Realms to figure out what the fuck is up with him.

Jason is extraordinarily confused but for some reason the Pit is really quiet around this guy and he feels safe around some dumb teenager so he's like "okay?? Sure??"

Danny takes him back to the hotel the Fentons are staying in and explains the situation a bit. Jack and Maddie hook up their temporary portal (blowing the electricity of the hotel in the meantime) and get Jason to the ghost doctor, Frostbite.

He gets diagnosed with "bro your ectoplasm is fucked up" disease and his ectoplasm is cleaned. He's like a diet halfa, with a few ghost powers but no ghost form. A liminal on steroids.

Anyway, Bruce sends a Batkid to the Fentons hotel (because of course he found it) in civilian garb to explain the situation. The Fentons Are Not Having It.

So, of course, with parents Bruce believes are mad scientists, he takes it upon himself to get that child out of a home of mad ghost hunters. By kidnapping him.

Danny's just pissed off because he finally got Vlad off his case and now he's here dealing with ANOTHER billionaire with a bat-themed super persona wanting to forcefully adopt him. The irony would be funny if it weren't so infuriating.

The Batkids are so happy to have a "new brother" in the house, even if said brother really doesn't want to be there. Jason just has no fucks left to give anymore and re-kidnaps Danny.

This of course sparks a game of Who Can Kidnap Danny and it's getting to the point where Danny just hates the BatFamily more and more because he was SUPPOSED to have a date with Sam and Tucker today and now he's holed up in the Batcave getting fitted for a vigilante costume by Nightwing. Alfred and Jason are the only sane people in the mansion.

So Danny "Bad Decisions" Fenton just says "fuck it" and goes ghost in private, leaving the manor and flying back to Amity. The convention has ended by this point, so they're all back home.

Cue BatFamily freaking out.

Eventually Bruce serves the Fentons legal papers (once he finds their address). The Fentons show up to court and verbally and respectfully ream Bruce for trying to re-adopt their son who they love so much. As the evidence of Bruce being wrong adds up, he realizes what he's done and feels like shit. Jason gives him a hearty "I told you so" for his efforts.

The Fentons live happily ever after, and Danny gets a cool secondary family that he doesn't really like until they all apologize.

Heheh. Just wait until they meet Dani, he thinks.

[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

Last Minute Changes - Jake Kiszka’s Version

A/N: Remember when I said Sam was Tchaikovsky: The Nutcracker coded?? Yeah, well… So is Jake, and since we have now experienced so much Ballerina Jake on stage, I just couldn’t help myself. Also disclaimer, I haven’t done ballet in 5+ years now, so please forgive me if I misname anything. Also, if you are not familiar with the Nutcracker pas de deux, I have linked it HERE for you to go watch (I recommend watching it before reading this, if you have the time or even just the desire to!). Please excuse any errors as always, and I hope you all like it! <3

WARNINGS: Excessive language, excessive practicing, some name calling (bitch, asshole, etc), hate!fucking, asshole!Jake, degradation, fingering, edging, slight mirror play, overstimulation, choking, biting, sort of public sex? sex in a studio, unprotected sex.

MASTERLIST

••••

“You two will be excellent together!” You can hear the smile in your choreographer’s voice. At least one of you is excited. “Well, have a lovely day, dear and I will see you back tomorrow to continue rehearsals.”

You say your goodbyes and hang up the phone, immediately sighing to yourself as you toss your phone to the side.

This is just great, you think to yourself.

What are the odds that the original Cavalier would suffer an injury and have to back out and Jake of all people, will be the one stepping in. It’s a serious lose/lose situation for all parties involved.

It has been quite some time since you’ve worked with Jake Kiszka, but to your knowledge he is no different than he used to be. Arrogant, cocky and an absolute asshole. Not to mention, the extensive hours that he chooses to practice are arguably a little unhealthy and excessive. Though, you have to give a nod to the way he strives for perfection. He’s one of the most talented dancers within the Ballet company the two of you work for. It’s admirable in its own sort of fucked up way.

Not that you don’t strive for that same level of perfection, you just have a different view and approach on how to get there.

After a moment or two of sulking, you decide to call Danny. A fellow dancer at your company and one of your best friends - but also a pretty close friend of Jake’s, you’re almost certain.

The phone barely rings twice before an excited Danny is answering the phone.

“Hello?” Danny’s voice finally cuts through, warm and genuine. As it always is.

“Hey! So uhm…” you start to trail off. “You know Anthony, right ? The guy who was originally the Cavalier?”

“I do, why? What happened?” He asks, concern and curiosity seeping into the way he speaks. “You sound kinda upset...”

“Oh, I’m definitely upset… Anthony has an injury and is being required to take a break…” you pause for a moment, before adding more details. “I mean, he seemed to be in some pain when we were practicing last night, but he told me not to worry.” A long sigh pushes out of your lungs. “But, now Jake is Cavalier...”

What you can only assume is slightly stunned silence, takes over his end of the phone.

“Jake…?” He questions finally. You can practically see his raised eyebrows and wide eyes. “Jake is Cavalier now?”

“Yeah…” You confirm, sighing heavily at the incredibly draining thought of it. “Danny, I don’t even know what to do.”

“Are you joking? What do you mean you ‘don’t know what to do?’” Danny practically scoffs at your words. “You’ve always wanted this part. You would really let Jake ruin this for you? That’s kinda ridiculous, bug.” He scolds you. “Not only that, but you’re already well into rehearsals. You’ve only got a few days left before dress rehearsals start up.”

“Danny, Have you not worked with him?!” You laugh humorously into the phone. “He’s an ass. A complete and total fucking ass.”

Danny laughs at your little outburst, immediately taking up for his friend. “I have and… yes, he can be a lot to handle, but he’s a perfectionist. Everything he does on stage has to be perfect, in his mind.”

You bite at your bottom lip, not at all soothed by Danny’s words whatsoever. You’d made up your mind about Jake and that was that.

“You two will be phenomenal together,” Danny says, breaking the moment of silence. “Give it a go. Don’t just throw away your dreams of doing sugar plum just because of this.”

“I’m really not… it’s just… I really don’t wanna have to do that pas de deux with Jake.” His name spits out of you with pure distaste, making Danny laugh lightly. You can imagine the gentle shake of his head, too.

“Like I said… you two will be amazing,” Danny reiterates, tone warm and genuine. “Don’t stress it too much. Just do what you do best and I’m sure everything will be cool.”

<>

The first few days of rehearsing with Jake go… well, anything but smoothly. Things are rocky and feel out of place, some parts of the routine having to be changed to suite you and Jake, instead of you and your original partner, Anthony.

And today’s practice rolls around too quickly, just like the last three days have. You go to bed, only to wake up feeling like you only slept for a solid five minutes, before you have to get up and reconvene with Jake all over again.

For the first time since joining this professional company, it feels like actual work. Not that it isn’t always work, but you’ve not ever felt this genuinely frustrated by the thought of going to the studio.

The door of the building slams closed behind you, finally separating you from the chilly, early December air.

You make your way down the long hallway, towards the room that your instructor had originally assigned for you and Anthony to use for practicing your Pas De Deux, but has now been for you and Jake.

As you reach the door, you can’t hear anything from the other side of it, and you wonder if Jake is even around yet. In all fairness, you are incredibly early. However, you’ve come to know that Jake takes early to a whole new level.

You open up the door to find he’s nowhere to be seen. Though he isn’t present just yet, realization is like a slap across the face, as it has been each day since you’ve started rehearsing with Jake.

It hits you in a brand new wave. Every. Single Day: This is really happening. You are stuck with Jake from now, until the end of the run.

But, there’s never enough time to dwell on what’s already in motion - which you’ve come to realize that it’s probably better off that way. You shove all the thoughts and feelings stirring up, as far back as they will go, placing your bag and coffee down, so you can begin getting ready to warm up.

Unfortunately for you, not nearly enough time passes before the sound of the door handle is beckoning for your attention and Jake is stepping through the doorway.

You turn to face him, a tight lipped smile being the only thing he offers you as he turns around to close the door. So, you return the half-assed smile and go back to putting on your pointe shoes and stretching out.

The more you spend time rehearsing with him, the more you realize that truly, he’s absolutely gorgeous. Quite possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever had the pleasure of dancing with. But, it isn’t really feeling so much like a pleasure to actually be dancing with him.

You swallow down the annoyance already bubbling up, “Do you need to warm-“

“I warmed up already,” Jake cuts you off before you can even finish your question. “I’ve been here for a while working on my variation.”

He places his things down, then makes his way over to you.

The annoyance floods right back in like it never even left, “Alright, then.”

“Let’s work on those new pieces we added.” It comes out as a command, setting your body even more ablaze.

“No need to get all bossy, Jacob.” You bite rather harshly. “That’s what I’m here for. Not to just bullshit around.”

“I wasn’t-“ Jake stops himself short, the two words sounding very defensive and annoyed.

The audacity for HIM to be annoyed.

He sucks in a sharp breath, trying to calm himself. “I wasn’t trying to be commanding.”

“Whatever.” You glare up at him, filling the space between you with even more tension.

“We can just carefully skim through the whole thing, sans the lifts, if you’d like.”

He stares at you with what can only be read as a stunned expression for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders and reaching up to roll the sleeves of his shirt.

“Ready?” Jake extends his hand out towards you, while clearly trying his best to release the unwanted tension in his shoulders.

You take his hand and let him guide you, stepping through slowly until you reach the first lift.

“Aaaand we’re skipping this part,” Jake sings in a mumble, moving with you into the next few steps.

You move with him flawlessly through it all, letting him guide you around the floor. It might even feel nice, if it isn’t for the raging distaste you have for him.

The softness of the which he handles you, doesn’t go unnoticed, though. You notice it almost right away and it slips you into a distracted daze, focusing more on the way his face keeps a calm and even expression and his body moves so fluently.

“Shit!” Jake hisses suddenly, quickly followed by a gasp from you as you bump into his body, causing you both to stumble. “Are you even paying attention?! Goddamn.”

“You grabbed my arm wrong.” You lie quickly, smirking internally as you watch pure annoyance start to show itself all over his face at even the suggestion that he’d messed up.

“You’re joking, right?” Jake snaps at you, practically burning holes into your head with his intense stare.

“No, I’m not joking.” You fire back, trying to make your eyes just as cold and harsh as his are, “There’s a lift there, Jacob.”

Any sort of normal, appropriate volume for the space the two of you occupy is suddenly out of the window completely.

“We aren’t even doing the fucking lifts right now!” Jake’s hands fly into the air dramatically.

“Jesus Christ. This is already giving me a fucking headache.” Your fingers rub at your temples and you fight to not raise you voice like Jake just had. “Let’s just start over? We can do the damn lifts this time, if that makes you happier.”

“Just don’t fucking kill yourself.” Jake mumbles, adjusting the bun hanging lowly at the back of his head.

“If something happens to me, it’ll be because you’ve dropped me.” You scoff, emphasizing with an intense eye roll. “And I wouldn’t put that past you.”

For once, you seem to have stunned him into silence for a brief moment.

“Are you not capable of just fucking practicing?” Jake questions, dropping his arms down to his sides, his shoulders slumping. “Or is it always just going to be a bitching contest?” He takes a step closer to you, pointing and finger at your face. “Because if so, I fucking quit. They can find you a new partner.”

There’s barely a beat of crippling silence before he’s adding on, “And good luck getting your shit together with him before dress rehearsal in three days.”

Your jaw drops as shock washes over you. The first instinct of your body is to simply just reach up and smack him, however, it’s not worth the consequences that will surely follow such an action.

Getting down on the floor, you start frantically untying your pointe shoes.

“What are you doing?” Jake’s volume is still a little too loud for a place of work. “Get up.”

“I have a fucking better idea-“ You pull both pointe shoes off quickly and stand back up. “Find yourself a new partner, dick.”

With that, you storm over to your bag and drop your pointe shoes inside. You grab your regular shoes and your bag, not even turning back to look at him as you make your way to the door.

So much force is put behind your movements as you jerk the door open and slam it closed as you leave.

“Woah, there, hot stuff…” Josh greets you, with an air of caution to his tone. “What’s got you so pissed off?”

“Your twin.” You respond flatly. No emotion for him to gauge in your tone whatsoever as you continue storming down the hallway.

“Right, right… Cause he got…” he sighs, trailing off.

“Yeah…”

“How about we go take a little break?” Josh suggests as he catches up with you, stopping you in your tracks. “I was about to go grab some coffee on my way home, but you can come along and i’ll just bring you back here after?”

Though, you aren’t sure if you’ll even want to come back yet, you give him a slight nod, and that’s all he needs before his arm is motioning for you to follow him.

The two of you walk to his car in silence for a minute, until you’re both inside and buckled in.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Josh asks as he starts his car.

A strained sigh forces its way out of your lungs.

“I mean…He’s just…” you pause, trying to word yourself carefully as you don’t want to disrespect Josh by talking so harshly about his brother.

But Josh beats you to the proper words you’re searching so hard for. “Hard to work with?”

You hold back the scoff that bubbles up in your throat. “Yeah… Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

Much to your surprise, a genuine giggle leaves Josh’s lips as he drives through the little bit of lunch hour traffic lingering on the streets of the city.

“You don’t have to sugar coat it, love,” he assures you, flashing you a quick smile. “I know he can be a bit… mm…difficult.”

“He acts like I’m not also just as much of a perfectionist! I don’t get it!” Your hands gesture up for emphasis, slamming back down into your lap with a soft smack. “I felt like I was having to walk on egg shells earlier.”

“I wish I could sit here and tell you that things will get better, but…” Josh trails off, running his hand over his face. “This part is stressing him out. He never expected to be doing it… I know he doesn’t want to fuck it up. Now, that doesn’t excuse his actions, but just…give him some time. He will loosen up eventually. Hopefully…”

Despite Josh’s words being true, you don’t feel as though they’ve really soothed you very much, if at all.

“You haven’t danced with him in a really long time, either and you dance differently now. I mean that in a good way, but Jake is also having to learn how you work now, on top of everything on his end.” Josh adds, having sensed the uncertainty still lingering on your face.

“I’m not going to lie to you… I’ve been fucking up, too.” You tell him honestly. “Like our routine.”

Josh looks over at you, clearly surprised. “You? You’ve been fucking up?” He questions. “How? I watched you and Anthony do it just last week and it was beautiful!”

“I… I don’t know. I guess Jake just… makes me nervous?” You admit.

Josh turns his face towards the window, trying to hide the grin tugging at his lips until he can collect himself.

But before Josh even has the chance to formulate a response to that, you’re asking him the question that’s been burning your brain since you left the studio.

“Do you think he’ll still be there when we get back?” You ask him softly. The fear of having to go to your director and explain such an outburst between you and Jake, settling deep within your bones. Or worse, Jake has already gone to someone and explained the situation, ultimately kicking you from your role.

“I can assure you, he’ll be there when we get back.” Josh answers seriously. “He isn’t going anywhere.

The conversation about Jake drops for the remainder of your little adventure. Until you’re watching the studio slowly come back into your line of sight, as Josh drives the two of you back.

“What if he’s still mad?” You can’t help but bring the situation back to the surface.

Josh’s shoulders slump slightly, and he seems to be thinking about the best way to answer you. Because the sickening truth is, even he knows that Jake is probably still boiling below the surface, just waiting for another fuck up from you, or anyone else, to send him exploding all over again.

“Just… Don’t go back in guns blazing…” He tells you, trying to choose his words carefully. “Try to be level headed and just get as much practice in as you can. The more you dance, the less room you leave for talking…or an argument. Ya know, whichever... And hopefully, the nerves will ease up little by little, then he won’t have anything to be a shithead over.”

“Right. Because that really worked earlier.” You finally let the scoff you’ve been choking back slip out. “I’ll try again, anyway. Thank you, Josh.”

“Anytime, love. Anytime.” He waves you off with a smile as you close the door and head back inside.

“Hey!”

Just before you step inside, you hear Josh calling for you and you turn around to face him.

“If you need me to come back and beat his ass, just call!”

Your head falls back as a genuine laugh explodes from your lungs. The most you’ve laughed all day, really, and it feels lovely.

Shaking your head, it’s your turn to wave him off, trying to get inside before the cold starts to make your bones ache any more than it already has.

It’s quiet, as you’re reaching the later hours of the afternoon, daylight just barely lingering still.

You make your way down the hall, back to the dreaded, mirrored, room that you and Jake have to continue to share. Assuming he’s still here… or he hasn’t had you replaced and you just don’t know it yet.

When you reach the door, you can hear the familiar song playing from the other side. The doorknob is freezing cold beneath your hand, a drastic contrast to the heat of anger still somehow lingering in your body. Shoving it open slowly, careful not to disturb who you can only assume is Jake, you peak your head in first to see him practicing all on his own.

His movements are flawless. Each step he takes and every movement of his arms, so precise and strong. The white tights he’s wearing accentuate the muscles running throughout his legs, his black t-shirt hugging his shoulders just so. He holds himself with utmost confidence, his eyes never casting themselves to the floor, looking out into an imaginary audience, or at an imaginary partner, when his attention is meant to be focused on her.

Suddenly, you become very aware that you wish to be the one under that gentle, but attentive gaze of his - completely unlike the way he had looked at you earlier. While you may be his partner, he won’t ever look at you that way -gentle and attentive- until he’s on stage and even then, it likely won’t feel real. It will be nothing but acting. It stings, but you shove the sour feeling deep down inside you and step fully back into the room.

“Can you turn the music off for a second?” You ask him, trying to keep a cool and collected tone.

The sound of annoyance Jake lets out doesn’t miss your ears, despite the music still playing.

He walks over and pauses the music, turning to you with an expectant look - just waiting for you to have a damn good reason for essentially asking him to stop what he had been doing. As if the two of you don’t have a lot more work to do.

“I’m…sorry for earlier.” The words are a bit strained as they leave you. What’s to be expected, though? You don’t really want to apologize to him, but you know it’s the right thing to do.

“It’s alright.” Jake mutters, barely nodding his head in acknowledgement to your apology. “I’m sorry, too. Let’s just get back to it, yeah?”

You’re stunned for a moment by his returned apology, having not expected him to give you one at all. Although, you can’t bring yourself to open space for any hope that things are maybe going to get better from here. That’s something you won’t believe until you see it happening consistently. Besides, there’s still an obvious hint of something unpleasant in his tone.

“Yeah, okay…” you agree, sitting your things down. “If you want, we can just work on the lifts for a while… ya know, just for a change of pace.”

The air in the room seems thick with awkwardness, of which you’re not helping to aid at all, being that your tone is rapidly fueling it and Jake without a doubt takes notice of that.

Though, he continues to act completely immune to the awkwardness filling the space. Leaving you to suffer in it all on your own.

After only offering you but a short and flat, “Sure,” you and Jake move on to the lifts. Of which go smoothly… Until they don’t.

“Fucking-“ Jake grunts, arms wobbling slightly as you struggle to find your balance in his hands. “Shit!”

No sooner than the curse of annoyance and distress rumbles out of him, you’re plummeting almost to the ground, Jake’s arms catching you just in time to save you from completely hitting the floor.

“God damnit,” Jake sighs, running a hand over his face once you are standing on your own two feet again.

“This one is just… I can’t get my balance right.” You admit to him. At least you’re being truthful.

You aren’t really sure why you’re having so much trouble. You had done these exact same lifts just fine with Anthony for weeks before Jake even became Cavalier.

Perhaps it was the tension between you and Jake. The mutual, very strong dislike for one another. The lingering bit of hostility from your’s and Jake’s outburst, not even two whole hours ago…

Or his hands on my body… Wait-

You’re quick to interject on your own thoughts. You simply cannot stand the idea of letting your mind wander off with such thoughts about Jake. You refuse to feel that way.

“I see that.” Jake’s words are once again dripping with that same amount of aggravation from earlier - Of which had lead to you storming out on him.

He throws a judgmental glance your way, likely wondering how you even got sugar plum in the first place.

“Let’s try again.” Jake steps behind you, placing his hands on your body just so, adjusting his stance as he prepares to lift you up into the air. Hopefully with more elegance and grace than the first time. “I’m going to count to three, and then you jump.”

You think you’re taking advantage of the fact that he can’t see your face, rolling your eyes at his commanding tone. Much to your misfortune, you seem to have briefly forgotten that you’re both facing a wall, perfectly lined with large mirrors.

“Can you drop the fucking attitude, for god’s sake?” Jake snaps in question, his hands squeezing where they’re planted just above your hips.

If looks could kill, the glare you send him through the mirror would have surely taken him out cold. “How bold of you to point fingers on someone’s attitude. I’m not the only one with an apparent attitude problem here.”

“I’m sorry? In case you haven’t noticed, you are the reason i’m irritated.” Jake is slowly starting to seethe again. You can tell by the way his jaw has clenched itself painfully tight.

You ignore his comment, just staring at him blankly for a moment before finally speaking up.

“Just…count to three. And lift me.” You enunciate your words firmly, sucking in a deep breath in attempts to prepare yourself.

Jake on the other hand, releases a long breath, rolling his shoulders back in hopes to relax his body, at least a little bit. “Fine, then.”

“One…” He begins to count, checking his grip on your waist. “Two…Three.”

The second he speaks the last number, you’re jumping just enough for him to gain the leverage needed to lift you up into the air above his head.

“Good. Good!” Jake praises from below you, watching you attentively through the mirror.

“Tighten your core just a little more,” He tells you, lowering you slightly as you start to wobble a bit. “Yeah, there you go.” He lifts you back up where you’re supposed to be. “Now, hold it.”

You extend your arms out, focusing solely on holding your pose. There’s still the slightest shake to your position, but you hold it pretty successfully, despite that.

“There it is.” The prideful tone of Jake’s voice makes you smile internally, though you’d spend your last drops of energy on keeping said smile off of your face for him to physically see.

“Okay, I’m gonna bring you down now…”

Jake slowly lowers you back down and you hold your next position until you feel your pointe shoe touch the hard floor.

“Thank fuck,” you sigh, relieved that it was somewhat smooth.

Of course, Jake can’t let the slightest little fuck up slide.

‘Everything has to be perfect, at least in his mind.’

“It was still shaky as hell.” Jake complains, giving a dramatic gesture with his hand.

You suck in a quick, sharp breath. The anger resurfacing is nearly blinding, clouding your vision in a red hue that you can’t hardly believe is really there.

“How do you suppose I fix that, then? Hm?” Your voice drips with a venom that’s so unlike you, normally.

“You practice more.” Jake says, as if it’s the most obvious fucking thing. Like you should have already known that.

“Wow. What prophetic fucking advice, Jake. I appreciate it,” you scoff, crossing your arms like a pouting child.

“Since you obviously don’t think you need it, let’s run it, then. Start to finish.” Jake suggests, knowing good and well he just wants to try and prove a point.

With a cool shrug of your shoulders, you agree. “Fine.”

Jake saunters over to his phone, where it lays right by the speaker sitting on one of the chairs, and presses play.

The familiar and oh-so beautiful orchestration starts to fill the room - it brings butterflies of realization to life in your stomach. This is your dream role and while you may be doing it with the absolute last person you would have ever picked on your own, you know in the end, once the two of you work out the kinks of your mutual dislike, you will be a flawless pair.

You take your first few steps that lead you to Jake, where you finally come to meet in the middle and delicately, you lay your hand atop of his palm. His fingers close carefully around your hand, then, lifting your arm above the two of you to slowly spin you around.

There seems to by a shift in the energy within the room and between the two of you, and it’s most certainly a welcomed shift.

As you continue through the routine, the new found comfort of dancing with him slowly overtakes you. Unfortunately, the burning sensation his hands leave in their wake as they help guide you, is making it harder and harder to focus. And of course, that only makes frustration bubble within you.

*Why can’t I dance with him? Why does he have to affect me so much? I don’t like him. He doesn’t like me.

Questions upon questions bounce around in your mind, inevitably distracting you from the important task at hand. It’s dangerous waters to swim in, the closer you get to the crescendo of the song; running the risk of one of you getting hurt somehow by lack of focus.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

You internally chant the word to yourself, desperately trying your best to pull your mind back to one collective place.

“Come back to me.” Jake’s tone is firm but not angry, as he prepares to bring you into the first lift.

Here goes nothing.

Forcing your brain to remain solely honed in on the task at hand, Jake’s hands find your waist and in the blink of an eye, he’s hoisting you into the air, much smoother and more elegantly than the first time.

And by some complete miracle, the first few lifts go flawlessly. Jake even finds it in himself to give a few mumbles of praise and encouragement as you go.

That confidence and momentum doesn’t carry through nearly as long as you hoped it would, though.

As the music builds and builds up to the first of what you would consider the “big” lifts, your heart rate increases. Suddenly your hands are clammy and a little shaky, and your stomach has twisted itself into a sickening knot.

Jake’s so into it, that you can’t bare the idea of asking him to stop, simply because your nerves have taken over. So, you continue into the lift, against your better judgement.

You make it into the air without much trouble, but as Jake brings you down into the next move, your form breaks and causes him to nearly drop you.

“Goddamn it!”

“Oh, my god!”

Both of your exclamations and curses fly out at the same time, only startling each other even more.

“Jesus christ, I knew you weren’t ready for that!” Jake shouts, hands running over his face as the adrenaline and realization of how hurt you could have just gotten, pumps through his entire body. “Do you even realize how fucking hurt you could have gotten just now?!”

“I am ready!” You argue right back, completely ignoring the hint of concern he was displaying for you.

“No, you are fucking not!” Jake’s voice booms, like a bang of thunder that shakes houses, after lightning has struck something. “We wouldn’t be having so much goddamn trouble if you were!”

“I didn’t have all these problems with Anthony,” you point out, matching his unruly volume. You even dare to take a step closer to him.

“What’s the difference?!” He practically screams, taking a step equal to the one you’d just taken. “We’re doing the same routine, for the same show! What. Is. The difference?!”

“Because you’re, you!” Your arms fly up into the air, before smacking back down against your sides.

Jake tilts his head back almost challengingly. “I’m what?”

“You’re the favorite! The one Everyone wants to have the fucking pleasure of dancing with!” You emphasize your words dramatically as you yell nearly right in his face. “You never fuck up anything! Ever!”

“And does that make you jealous?” Jake questions, his tone becoming smug and arrogant.

“No, it doesn’t make me jealous! It makes me nervous!”

Though half of the sentence is a lie; it definitely makes you both jealous and nervous, as soon as the words leave your mouth, you want to snatch them out of the air and shove them back in.

“Really?” Jake raises his eyebrows at you. “Nervous, huh?”

“Yes! Nervous, you fucking asshole!” You yell. “You’re arrogant as all hell and it’s absolutely insufferable, in case anyone hasn’t told you! It’s a nightmare trying to work with someone who is constantly picking apart every little move you make!”

“First of all-“ Jake wraps his hand around your pointed finger and shoves it roughly out of his face. “-Get your finger out of my damn face. And stop fucking yelling at me.” His eyes burn through yours, knocking you down a notch, but you refuse to outwardly show it. “Second, you shouldn’t be talking. You get everything handed to you, like the perfect, pretty little thing you are. You hardly have to work for shit.”

You snatch your finger out of his grip and immediately fire back at him. “I don’t get anything fucking handed to me.”

“But you do!” Jake chides, hardly making a legitimate point.

“No, YOU DO, Jake!” And now you’re back to screaming, throat threatening to go raw by the strain you’re putting on it. “How do you think we got here in the first fucking place!”

“If I got everything handed to me, don’t you think I would have had this from the beginning?!” Jake nearly closes the little space between the two of you, with one more step. “Don’t you think I would have gotten it first, instead of Anthony?!”

A wicked smirk grows on your face. “Right, right. So you’re just their backup, huh?” You watch as Jake’s face grows red and his eyes flash with rage. “Not even good enough to be cast as Cavalier the first time, are you?”

“You should be concerned about the fact that we start dress rehearsals in two days and you can’t even get all the damn lifts right.” Jake jabs.

His close proximity is making it hard to think anymore, the features of his beautiful, anger-hardened face proving to be a major distraction from the comeback you should have been already able to conjure up.

“Well, they- their hopes can’t be but so high, now that they’ve had to settle for you.”

Jake’s jaw visibly tenses, causing the muscles to protrude around his cheekbones and down his neck, the crease between his brows setting in even deeper.

Before you can even bat an eye, or open your mouth to add a little more gasoline to the already raging fire, Jake’s hand is tightly wrapping itself around the back of your neck.

“Is this entertaining you?” You can see Jake’s free hand gesture about, through your peripheral vision. “Being a little bitch?”

You’re frozen, stuck in place - not only because of his grip on you, but because you can’t decide if you actually want to move away.

One might find that name absolutely enraging, but apparently you don’t, considering the way your cunt throbs as the word travels from his mouth, to your ears.

“Fuck you.” You spit through gritted teeth.

“Would that make you less bitchy? If you fucked me? Hm?” Jake taunts, clearly taking in the newfound enjoyment he’s getting out of this.

“Call me a bitch again.” You say threateningly, but it holds no real weight. You just want to keep up the fight a little longer, perhaps a bit too addicted to the way he’s making your blood boil.

“Or what?” Jake all but growls, leaning his face in, so that he’s right next to your ear. “Are you gonna storm out of here like earlier? Like the little fucking brat you are?”

Your skin is screaming to feel his lips. They’re mere inches from your skin, the heat of his breath casting a heat that almost resembles when you sit just a little too close to a campfire.

“I bet you’d perform a lot better if I fucked you.” Jake speaks the wondering thought out loud. “Trained you to be a good little dancer for me.”

“Jake…” you sigh, chest heaving rapidly.

“What?” Jake seethes. “No smart ass comeback? No attitude?” He slides his other arm around your back, but doesn’t pull you quite close enough for your body to touch his. “Come on. Say something else. I dare you.”

Your thoughts spin around themselves as you attempt to conjure up another snarky comment, while Jake’s eyes stare intensely into yours, occasionally flickering down to your lips and right back up.

Finally, it comes to you.

“I’m not taking insults from a boy who probably can’t even fuck me hard enough to keep me out of rehearsal tomorrow.”

The silence that falls between you and Jake is deafening. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, hear the blood running hot beneath your skin. If you listen close enough, you might even hear Jake’s heartbeat banging against his own ribcage, too.

Neither of you move for what feels like an eternity, only adding to the tension that’s already about to burst at the seams.

Jake’s mouth opens and closes quickly, but he still doesn’t speak - only adding to the torment of the moment. Anticipation fills you up so much, you feel like you may start throwing it up.

Slowly, Jake’s eyes narrow until they’re practically shut, and his hand tightens around the back of your neck tightens.

“Are you challenging me, sugar?” The name typically used for endearment, spits out of him like it’s anything but sweet. He’s so cleverly alluding to your role as sugar plum.

“I-If that’s how you wanna see it, go ahead.” You half choke out. Your words are becoming less and less intimidating and lethal as the moments go by. “Since you want to try and prove a point soo badly.”

“I don’t think you deserve anything else from me today.” Jake says, not even bothering to fight off the smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

Shock fills you up the second the words float out from his mouth and you’re even more shocked at the way disappointment comes along to mix in with it. You may have been annoyed with him for petty shit before, but now you’re genuinely upset.

“W-what…?” The word is barely audible coming from your breathless lungs.

Jake lets go of you and steps away, taking little steps backwards in the direction of his things. The expression adorning his face is downright evil.

“I think you heard me loud and clear.” Jake shrugs, grabbing up his things. He doesn’t even bother to take off his shoes - likely just leaving you to go off to a different room and practice alone.

You watch him, completely dumbfounded as he makes his way to the door, not even giving you glance as he goes by.

The door opening feels so obnoxious, given the newfound silence hanging between the two of you. He’s about to step over the threshold, but turns around to face you one more time.

“See you tomorrow.” He glances over you for a moment, tongue visibly poking the inside of his cheek. “And you better not fuck up.”

<>

After a horrendous night filled with constant tossing and turning, the cool light of the gloomy morning wakes you up out of the sleep, that has only just found you a few hours ago.

Begrudgingly, you force yourself to get out of bed and take a shower, then dig out a pair of tights and one of your favorite leotards. And as much as you don’t want to acknowledge it, the brief question of whether or not Jake will like it, plants itself in your head. It’s black, with long sleeves, and the daintiest lace details at the top around the chest.

You force the thought away immediately. The mere mental thought of Jake making your body tense with anger, and… whatever the hell is left lingering from last night’s little… moment.

The drive to the studio is severely uneventful. Music being the only thing to keep you company throughout the short trip over there.

Seems like you’ve been living there these last few days. Which, might not be so bad if Jake wasn’t such a constant thorn in your side.

As the studio comes into view, a lump over nerves nearly makes you choke. Last night’s interesting turn, still at the forefront of your memory, despite your efforts in trying to ignore it.

You grab all your things and make your way to the door, walking as quickly as you possibly could to get out of the cold air. A swift glance around the parking lot as you go, is enough to see that Jake’s car is nowhere to be seen.

There’s no denying the relief that washes over you. Perhaps you’ll actually be free of Jake for a little longer than normal, to perfect some things by yourself, without the intense and judgmental stare of Jake’s eyes.

Just as you’ve hoped, as you walk down the hallway to your room, there’s nothing but silence on the other side of the door. But just to be safe, you slowly push it open and peak in, only to confirm that Jake is nowhere to be seen.

You take the opportunity to practice certain pieces of the pas alone, hoping to work through most of the imperfections that Jake has pointed out, time and time again.

What you don’t realize though, is how much time actually passes as you fall into a zone. Completely locked in on what you’re doing, practically floating around as though Jake is there to guide you, except you’re doing it all on your own.

Little did you know, Jake is standing at the door… admiring you just like you had done to him yesterday. For him, it’s different; his moment or slight admiration and ogling. He doesn’t have nearly as much trouble admitting to himself that he finds you ridiculously attractive and talented.

Will he say that directly to you? It isn’t likely, but to himself, he absolutely will. Although, the odds of him telling you his thoughts, are far more likely than you vocalizing your’s to him.

Jake stands, body halfway slipped between the cracked door, intently and quietly watching you. Until finally, you turn and your stop brings you to perfect face the door.

The sudden sight of Jake makes your entire body jolt, startled and unprepared to see him in such a random way.

“Jake!” You half screech, your hand coming to grasp at your now aching chest.

“My bad.” The softest chuckle dances with his words. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine…” you mumble.

Looking at him for the first time since last night is… definitely different, to say the very least.

The air in the room has shifted and it feels so heavy that it may crush you. Given Jake’s cocky strutting across the room, you guess that he doesn’t feel it the way that you do, or he’s doing a really good job at ignoring it. Like he always does. Yet another thing about him that you envy; his ability to be so unaffected.

“You- uhm… How long were you watching from the door?” You ask him timidly, chancing a quick glance at him as he sits down his things.

“Long enough to see that you’re perfectly capable of a flawless and confident routine.” Jake replies, bringing a soft, pink tint to your cheeks. “Which I suppose is great, except you can’t seem to do that with me.” His tone is the slightest bit playful, but you can’t ignore the way it claws at your skin.

“A bit early to be making digs, don’t you think, Jake?” You raise an eyebrow at him, awaiting the death glare he’s sure to throw towards you any second now.

But it doesn’t come. He just ignores your little muse all together, continuing to stretch and warm up.

Silence falls over you both, as you work on a few moves on the opposite side of the room in front of the mirrors.

Occasionally, you glance over your shoulder through the mirror at Jake, but you don’t let your eyes linger on him for too long, in favor of not getting caught and the refusal to let yourself get carried away.

After a few minutes, you catch a glimpse of Jake getting up and setting up his phone with the speakers, before making his way towards you and finally speaking up.

“Ready to run this thing?” He rubs his hands together in front of him.

“As I’ll ever be,” you mumble in response and follow him back over to the middle of the floor.

Jake steps back to his phone and presses play, bringing the beautiful instrumental to life throughout the whole room.

It eases you, much to your surprise. But not enough to ignore the fires that Jake’s hands seem to be lightning, gradually, all over your body in each place that he touches you.

You do your absolute best to try and remain calm and collected, focusing solely on the dance and nothing else.

Further and further you sink into the routine, and so does Jake. It’s evident in the electric energy that’s suddenly buzzing throughout

the room. The way Jake’s eyes stare into yours so intensely, it makes your knees want to give out beneath your weight. The passion of which he’s exuding…

The way he grips your body to lift you up into the air, unintentionally gripping you harder and harder with each passing lift, until you’re certain he’s going to crush you.

You’re not sure what exactly snaps in your brain, but when it snaps, there is no going back.

"Jesus fucking christ- Put me down!" You yell over the music and Jake immediately brings you back down on your own two feet, but not exactly gently.

"Fuck- what now?!” Jake hisses through his labored breathing. “Can you not go two minutes without bitching?!”

"You have a fucking death grip on me!” You grab at his bicep for emphasis. “Are you trying to bruise me!?”

“You should feel so lucky.” Jake spits back, sarcasm mixing with cockiness in his tone.

“Oh, shut the fuck up Jacob!” You screech in his face. “The last thing I want is you leaving any kind of marks on my body.”

“Trust me, princess, I'm not interested anyway." Jake fumes, face red and jaw set tight, nose glistening with the lightest layer of sweat.

“I’m not either!” It feels like a lie, the second it leaves your mouth. But the volume behind your words, masks the way you hardly believe it yourself. “You’re just an arrogant, self centered, asshole, who always has to get his own fucking way with everything!”

“And you're a fucking bitch who never knows when to shut her mouth." Jake practically growls, his face just inches from yours.

"You’re such a piece of shit." You retaliate lowly.

"Back atcha, princess.” Jake grits, the muscles in his cheeks and neck pulsing rapidly.

"Stop. Fucking. Calling me that.” You demand.

"No.” Jake shakes his head, pushing his tongue into his cheek. “No, I don’t think I will.” He adds. "All you ever do is bitch and complain about me doing something wrong and it's so irritating. I know what the hell i I'm doing. I'm a fucking professional. It is not my fault that you're so goddamn picky about every little thing!"

"Well, excuse me for wanting to do this perfectly!” You shout back at him, praying internally that this explosion between the two of you hasn’t drawn any attention outside of the room.

"How ironic.” Jake chuckles humorlessly. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Sugar plum, but you're not even close to it.”

"It would be perfect if you didn't grab me like a caveman!” You chide, feeling the sting of Jake’s words prickling under your skin.

"It would be perfect if you stopped squirming every time i lift you!” Jake argues, throwing his hands into the air.

"Maybe if I fucking trusted you, I wouldn't get nervous when you have me in the air!” You shoot back.

“You know that’s not really why you get shaky when I lift you, but whatever.” Jake scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Maybe aybe if you weren't such a hateful little shit, you'd be able to at least pretend to trust me."

"You. Are insufferable.” You turn to walk away from him, leaving Jake glued to his spot as his brain processes what he’s about to say.

"And you clearly need to be put in your goddamn place." Jake says, stopping you in your tracks.

You turn back around to face him, taking a few little steps forward defiantly. "I fucking dare you to try.”

The challenge spits out of you, and not a bit of you thinks he’ll really see it, considering he had the opportunity last night and trashed it.

"You couldn't handle it.” Jake says simply. His words only raise your anger somehow.

"I hate you.” You seethe, closing in on him with a pointed finger.

"Not nearly as much as I fucking hate you.” He flashes you the fakest smile you’ve ever seen in your life, immediately dropping his face back to his previous, stone cold expression.

The tension hanging in the room is so thick, even a chainsaw would likely struggle to cut it. A deafening silence falls over the two of you, nothing but the sounds of both your heavy breaths to fill it.

Your teeth are so tightly gritted together, you worry they may shatter any second now as you await his next move. Because you certainly are not backing down first, from this eerily silent stand off.

Jake’s face is still sharp and set with anger, not even a glimmer of that chocolaty brown left in his eyes.

Just as you open your mouth to foolishly provoke him even more, he’s lunging for you, roughly gripping either side of your face as his lips sloppily crash into yours. You can’t stop yourself from kissing him back. He tastes intoxicating in the best and worst way. A drug that now that you’ve had just a taste of, you aren’t sure you’ll be able to put it down.

Haphazardly, Jake starts guiding you backwards towards the barre, not even breaking the kiss to make sure that’s where he is going. Like a man about to die of thirst, he drinks in the whimper that you release, as your back collides with the barre. His hands find your wrists, and he shoves them up above your head and pins them there.

“Tell me to stop.” He huffs out through rapid breaths, free hand staying planted on the wall by your arm.

"I thought you were putting me in my place.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Or are you all talk?"

Jake just growls, swiftly reaching down to cup your heat, making you gasp desperately. His foot kicks your legs farther apart, middle and ring fingers stroking over you so lightly, you could scream.

Except you can’t. You’ve been struck with utter speechlessness, thanks to the sudden advance and the merciless ache he’s creating between your legs.

“What? Nothing to say now?” Jake questions tauntingly. “I think this is the longest you've been quiet around me. It’s truly a nice change"

“M-maybe you're just not doing a good enough job," you stutter, pressing yourself into the palm of his hand.

"The way you’re stuttering and the wet spot that I can feel right here, says otherwise.” Jake’s fingers tap against you.

You let out an exhale that is dripping with attitude, but make no move to break away from Jake. And you won’t, really. You both know that at this point.

“Do you get tired?” Jake mumbles, leaning in to ghost his lips over your cheek. They trace around, until he settles on your ear. “Do you get tired of being so defiant? Being a fucking brat and causing me so many stresses? Does it get you off?”

“What if it does?” You answer in a whisper, trying to turn your head towards his, but he isn’t having it.

His hand comes up from between your legs and wraps around your throat, causing you to whimper at the loss of contact.

“Let’s get something clear,” Jake starts lowly, his voice rumbling like nearby thunder as he begins to warn you. “Drop the fucking games, or I’ll make sure to fuck you so hard, you’ll have to fucking crawl your way out of here tonight.”

“I will never give you such satisfaction.” You know you’re about to eat these words, but you can’t find it within your being to care.

Faster than what your brain is capable of processing at this point, Jake is turning you around to face the mirror, leaving you no choice but to grip the barre in front of you.

“Then take it.” Jake says, pressing himself against your ass and wrapping his other hand around your jaw. “Take everything I fucking give you, right here. And when I’m done-“ He uses the grip to turn your head towards the door. “-I can’t wait to watch you limp to that fucking door.”

Jake’s hand abandons your jaw, his fingers hooking themselves around the top of your leotard and pushing it off your shoulders. You help him work it off your body from the front, until it finally falls down around your ankles. As you move to step out of it, he stops you.

“Ah. Don’t.” Jake uses his own leg to halt the movement of your own. “Leave it there.”

You huff, but place your foot back where it was, leaving your leo pooling on the floor around your feet.

Jake’s hands work their way up for your hips, to your shoulders, before his dull nails scratch down your back just enough to make your muscles tense and cover you in goosebumps. He repeats the action one more time, watching your body shiver under his touch in amusement.

“Beg me.” Jake commands, dipping the tips of his fingers into the waistband of your tights.

“What?” You meet his eyes through the mirror, both of you taking notice of the pink tint your cheeks take on.

“I said, Beg. Me.” Jake repeats himself, but not without placing some firmness behind his tone.

“For what?” You spit the question like it’s drenched in poison, though, you know good and well what he’s asking you to beg for.

In a blink, Jake bends down just slightly and yanks your tights down until they’re sitting just around your knees.

“Aren’t you gonna take them off?” You ask him through a scoff.

“I only take off the clothes of good girls,” Jake smirks slyly from behind you. “And you’re most certainly not one of those. Are you?”

You don’t answer him, mostly because you’re hyper focused on the way the air feels cool against your cunt, the slip of your inner thighs from the arousal soaking them and the fact that Jake is the one that has caused it.

A swift smack to your ass pulls you back to him, though.

“Are you?” Jake asks again. You can see his hand drawn back through the mirror, prepared to deliver another blow.

“No,” you finally answer, not nearly loud enough.

Smack.

“Louder.” Jake demands.

“No, I-I’m not.” Your voice cracks as you raise your volume up, hoping it will suit him.

“That’s better.” Jake attaches his lips itno your shoulder, sinking his teeth into the muscles as his fingers unexpectedly slip through your folds.

“Ah, fuck!” You cry, squirming slightly at the pleasurable pain of his teeth biting just enough to leave a bruise, paired with the coolness of his fingers. You’re ever so slowly losing your own game of defiance.

“Aw, do you not like it rough, sugar plum?” Jake asks, feigning sympathy for you as he lets his fingers tease around your dripping heat.

“I- I told you I can take it,” you remind him, but it’s hardly as believable as earlier.

“Yeah?” Jake pulls his hand away from you and smacks it across your hand again, the wetness coating his fingers making it sting just a little more.

“Jake, come on,” you beg, dying for him to pay your throbbing clit some attention, even though it likely won’t be for long.

“Oh, so now she begs…” Jake scoffs, returning his fingers to your core.

Instead of going where he knows you want them the most, he slowly sinks a finger into you, curling it upwards upon hearing your whiny moan. The force at which his finger curls into, sends you lurching forward, damn near hitting your head against the glass of the mirror.

His free hand reaches up to grip at your jaw again, forcing your head up to look at him.

“How’s that feel? Hm?” He asks, voice low and gravely, like it has to travel over rocks before it reaches your ears.

Adding in a finger, the thrusts of his fingers become deeper and the sweet curl into that spot that has your knees buckling, grow harder and more intentional - hitting the same sweet spot over and over and over again.

“Goddamn, Jake…” you moan breathily, eyes fluttering closed.

“Open your fucking eyes and look at me.” Jake commands, emphasizing his words with a particularly deep thrust of his fingers.

How he’s managing to reach these untouched places inside of you, you’ll likely never know, but you don’t really care. You force your eyes open and meet his reflection. Tendrils of his hair have fallen out of his bun, framing his face so perfectly. His eyes are dark and dancing with lust and more emotions that are too entangled to place.

“You feel like you’re about to cum…” Jake observes, pulling his soaked fingers out and wrapping his arm around your waist to reach your aching and horribly neglected bundle of nerves.

The circles he’s drawing over you are quick and tight, enough to throw you into an orgasm and completely wipe your mind blank in the process. It’s almost too much pleasure.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?” Jake snaps, cracking his hand against your cunt, before returning to the dizzying circles.

You open your mouth to smart off, but the second your lips part, the most feral moan you’ve ever heard come from your own lungs, bursts right out of you.

“You’re so much more pleasant to be around when you’re moaning instead of bitching.” Jake comments, leaning in to bite at your shoulder again.

You don’t have much wriggle room this time, as his grip around your neck keeps your firmly in place as he bites all along your neck and shoulder.

“Jake!” You whimper, so close to sounding more like a sob.

You want to jerk away from his far too skilled fingers, but you don’t want to run from the earth-shattering orgasm that he’s steadily dragging you towards.

“Do not cum yet.” Jake says against your skin, but his fingers don’t stop.

“Jake, i-“

“Nope. Don’t fucking cum yet.” Jake says again in a much harsher tone.

He’s pushing you. Seeing just how much you can take, how long you can keep yourself dangling you over that steep edge before you’re crying and pleading with him to stop, because you just can’t hold it anymore.

And you’re not far from that, as hot tears sting the corners of your eyes and the knot in your belly is aching and screaming for release.

“Fuck, I can’t-“ You choke out, gripping the barre so hard that your knuckles are paper white. Even your knees have started to slightly bend, forcing Jake to bend down with you in order to not lose the contact. “I can’t, Jake! Please, just let me!”

“Fuck no.” Jake snaps, bringing his fingers to an agonizing stop before removing them from you completely. “What makes you think you’ve earned it?”

Jake’s hands abandon you and just barely, you catch sight of him pushing his own tights and underwear down to his thighs, fully revealing himself to you, hard and practically soaked with pre cum.

As much as you want to hate every bit of this, you can’t wait have him buried inside of you. The way you imagine it will feel to have him stretching you out, hitting all the perfect places inside of you, is replacing all coherent thoughts in your brain.

“Fuck,” Jake groans, stroking himself a few times. “Goddamn how did you fucking get me like this?”

Reaching forward with his opposite hand to grip your hip tightly, he lines himself up and pushes in to the hilt, his dark eyes intently watching your face contort in pleasure.

“Yeah? You like this?” Jake asks, his words slightly rushed from his own pleasure as he moves in and out of you a few times. “Can’t believe this is all I needed to do to get you to shut your pretty fucking mouth.”

All you can do is moan. You’re far too gone to come up with a good and bratty response to that. Besides, you coming to not mind the way he sounds degrading you. It’s addicting, just like his fingers and cock.

Your chest heaves with anticipation as he continues his slow thrusts. One of his hands ventures up your spine from your hip, stopping to firmly grip your shoulder for more leverage.

“You think your dancing has imperfections now?” Jake growls into your ear, his black t-shirt grazing your bare back. “Just wait until you come in and try to dance tomorrow.”

Jake pulls nearly all the way out of you before slamming himself right back in without warning, setting the most relentless pace possible.

A choked moan rips its way out of you, the pleasure of Jake’s cock pounding into you, shooting through your whole body in debilitating waves.

“Come on, sugar plum,” Jake taunts through labored breaths. “Mouth off some more. M’sure you have plenty to say now, don’t you?”

“F-Fuck you…” You force the two strangled words out through your throat, through an array of moans a high pitched whines.

Using his bruising hold on your hip and shoulder, he brings you back to meet his thrust, driving himself even deeper with each stroke.

You can feel the pleasure shooting down through your legs, all the way down to the tips of your toes - sore and likely blistered from your pointe shoes. The sensations popping up all over your body, make you feel like you’re choking on air - little hiccups of whines and ragged, loud breaths being all that makes it out of you.

Jake’s sounds of pleasure aren’t lost on you, though. The deep grunts and growls, an occasional higher whimper falling in here and there. But god, his voice… the way he talks to you. That, you’re sure, will be what drives you into the life changing high that’s finally starting to rebuild itself within you.

“Oh, my god, Jake…” You croak, wishing you could hold onto him. Sink your nails into his shoulders and run them down his back, or arms. Anything.

“Are you gonna cry for me when you cum? Huh?” Jake asks tauntingly, raising his voice slightly to ensure you hear him over your constant moans. His hand travels from your shoulder down to your cunt, and he begins swirling his fingers over your clit.

You writhe in his hold, forcing him to wrap his other arm around your waist, the palm of his hand splaying over your chest to hold you against him.

“Nuh uh, this is what you fucking wanted, so take it.” Jake growls lowly into your ear, kissing the side of your neck just below it.

It feels too good. Way too good. You’re just waiting for your body to short circuit, as Jake continues to mercilessly pound into you, expertly toying with your clit as he does so.

“Look at yourself,” Jake scoffs, sliding his hand up from your chest to your jaw. “So fucked out and pathetic. You gonna leave looking like this?” His eyes scan over the little bruises littering your shoulders and neck. “Gonna show everyone that their pretty, sweet, sugar plum is just a little whore?”

Words have completely fled from you, as have the loud moans you were emitting before. You’ve dwindled down to nothing but a constantly open mouth, with hoarse and uneven breaths panting out, makeup running and strands of hair falling out of your bun, as your orgasm slowly pulls you under.

“Ja- Jake!” You sob, a deep ache settling low in your stomach. “I- I’m s- I-…”

“Give it up, pretty. Go on…” Jake encourages, his thrusts just barely faltering as you begin fluttering around him. “F- Fucking. Give it to me.”

The orgasm that takes hold of you, nearly ravages you. It’s head-spinning, body numbing. So all consuming that your vision and hearing go out entirely, for what feels like an eternity. Your lungs burn as your body locks in place, until you’re finally able to suck in a gasping breath and release the most pornographic cry into the room. It echos and bounces around, and Jake is quickly committing it to memory.

Faintly, as Jake delivers a few more paralyzing thrusts, you can hear him cursing under his breath. Groaning as he pulls out quickly, removing his hand from around you to work himself through his own high and spilling his release over your lower back.

His fingers have yet to come to a stop over you, even through his orgasm. You frantically grab for his wrist, whining desperately as overstimulation takes you for a dizzying spin.

Barely having regained his composure, Jake turns you around, pressing his body flush against yours as he sinks his fingers into you and uses his thumb to continue working your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Jake, please! It’s too much, please!” You beg him, more tears prickling the corners of your eyes.

“You’re a tough girl, right?” Jake mocks, kissing your cheek with a wicked smirk on his lips. “You can take one more.”

“Jacob, please!” You beg him again, unsure of how you’re even holding yourself up anymore.

“Hush.” Jake commands, watching you with dark eyes as you start fall back into another high.

Your head falls back against the glass with a soft thud, eyes screwed tightly shut and mouth hanging agape just like before.

“That’s it, sugar plum,” Jake rasps. “You’ll give me one more because I said so. Good girl.”

Those last two little words do you in. It isn’t quite as intense as the first, but it still does you in, nonetheless. Your legs tremble beneath you, the muscles in your stomach clenching as you come undone for him again.

As you come down, Jake carefully withdraws his hand from you - soaked and glistening with your release.

You watch his movements with hooded eyes, as he brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks them clean of you.

“Like sugar…” He hums with a shit eating grin. “How fitting.”

Bending down, Jake guides your tights back up, followed by your leo - pulling it up just to your chest.

He then takes a step back from you, pulling his own tights back up over his hips, eyes never leaving your face as you watch him in slight, post-orgasm confusion.

“It’s late,” he speaks up calmly, taking slow steps backwards. “I’ll see you back here tomorrow. Same time.”

You watch him in walk away disbelief, as you attempt to follow after him on weak and shaky legs. By the time you reach him, he’s already flinging his back over his shoulder.

He turns towards you, tossing you a little jar without any warning.

Your hands shoot out to catch it just in time to save it from shattering all over the floor and upon a little examination, you read, ‘Epsom Salt’ written across a little sticky note, taped to the side.

“Might wanna soak in a nice little bath tonight,” he suggests as he heads towards the door.

You watch him pull it open and step out, still completely speechless and rightfully exhausted, your mind spinning in a whirlwind of thoughts about what the hell just happened.

“I need those to be working tomorrow.” Jake adds smugly, quickly pointing at your legs. “Oh, and cover those marks. Can’t go in to dress rehearsal tomorrow night bruised up.”

“W-What…?! I thought dress rehearsal starts the day after tomorrow?” Your sleepy eyes grow impossibly wide.

“Nope.” Jake shakes his head once. “Best be ready, huh, sugar plum?”

With that, he leaves you to be alone with l shock and insanely sore legs, wondering how the fuck you’re going to manage a full day with him and dress rehearsals, now that he’s fucked your body to the point of no return.

@ascendingtostardust @joshsindigostreak @streamsofstardust @builtbybrokenbells @shutupdevvie @gretasmokerising @stardustvanfleet @stardustcatcher @wildbluesorbit @jaketlover @of-infinite-wonders

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[new-revenant]

During patrol Nightwing found a handmade doll that resembled his hero persona, this wouldn't be so weird if it weren't for the fact that he finds dolls resembling the other members of the batfam's hero personas scattered in odd spots throughout Gotham and Bludhaven. The weirdest thing happens when one night he finds a doll of someone he doesn't recognize. It's a pale teen with white hair and bright green button eyes wearing what looks like a black and white hazmat suit. Nightwing picks it up and the doll immediately bursts into Lazarus green flames. Nightwing finally decided to tell the fam about the dolls not knowing that Phantom, who was sealed in a sarcophagus by treacherous observents several years prior, was now awake. The problem is that the sarcophagus is in the batcave as a trophy, needless to say everyone was surprised when the lid suddenly blew off and out stepped a teenager. Danny is a mix of anger and confusion because this definitely isn't Amity Park

You know. This is almost the exact plot of another, non-dp-related-AU I’ve seen. It’s @/ovegakart doll AU, it’s an AU of Linked Universe, which is itself a LoZ AU where a bunch of Links have come together across time because reasons I won’t get into. In the second ever LoZ game, Adventure of Link, there are these dolls that are scattered across the map. They give you an extra life. So, in ovegakart’s AU, the Link from the first game and AoL(it the same link)finds dolls of himself and the other Links while in his own time. Then, in a well, he finds a doll of a Link none of them have ever seen before. He picks it up and it bursts into flames. I checked, that’s what happened, here is a link to the page. Oh, and Nightwing not telling his family about the dolls until he gets Danny’s? The same thing happened in this AU, where AoL Link doesn’t tell the other Links about the dolls until he comes across the mysterious Link doll. That mystery Link is the First Hero btw, he’s from the Skyward Sword manga.

I would’ve liked it if you, I dunno, credited the idea? Or at least make it not so obvious by changing the doll into something else? Or make it so that Nightwing only finds a Danny doll? Maybe have it melt into ectoplasm even? I have a couple posts already about how I’m a LU fan on here, and if you’ve seen that before, then did you think I didn’t follow ovegakart, one of the biggest LU/LoZ creators? Listen, I’m not mad at you, I’m just confused at your thought process here. This AU idea wasn’t made for dpxdc, it doesn’t even make much sense for it. Yeah yeah, people can do whatever they want, whatever, but at least credit it my god. Or change it up to suit dpxdc more, or both.

How many other people have just taken AU ideas from others and pawned it off as their own, thinking that no one would find out since they’re from another fandom? It makes me feel gross. Please, just credit the idea. If I just posted this with some writing adding onto this, not knowing about this idea coming from another fandom and another person. I think I might need to close my asks for a bit, I don’t feel great, sorry.

[disillusioneddanny]

Eloped in Space

Parts: 

One 

Two 

Three 

Four 

Danny glanced at his husband who just gave him that annoyed, displeased look. “Obviously, he’s not very happy about that,” Danny said with a grin before he looked back at his new step children. “Ya see, after being around for as long as I have, things such as life and death don’t matter as much. Moonlight here doesn’t fully understand that. He is still in that phase in his mortality where he believes that all life is sacred regardless of what he has done.”

“So… since you’re my new step dad, would you be mad at me if I killed the Joker?” Jason asked slowly, it was worth a shot at least.

Danny shrugged. “I don’t see why I would be. It’s very healthy for murder victims to avenge their murders,” Danny said with a shrug. “If I had been murdered when I died, I would have wanted to avenge my death as well.”

“So… I can?” Jason clarified. 

“Sure. I’ll help you if you want,” Danny offered, a happy smile on his face. This would be perfect! Bruce had been so worried that Jason would be the one to be less likely to accept Danny had his new step father! This would be a great way to bond with his new stepson. 

“Oh my god, you’re the best dad ever,” Jason exclaimed. He looked at Bruce and gave him the most withering, annoyed look he could. “That’s the kind of attitude a father should have when their murdered son wants to avenge their murder.”

“Shut it, Jason,” Bruce said, crossing his arms over his chest in annoyance. 

“I am just saying life and death really does not mean that much. Besides, once Joker is in my realm, he is subject to whatever I would like to do to him,” Danny said with a wave of his hand.

Jason grinned and looked at his siblings. “I dunno about you guys but I approve,” he said and fell onto a couch, crossing his arms over his chest as he gave his new step father an appraising look. 

“A father who approves of murder? I think that I am okay with this new change,” Damian stated before he looked Danny up and down. “I will not call you dad.”

Danny grinned. “What do you want to call me then?”

Damian let out a hum as he thought about this. He was more than okay with his father getting married and by the display of power that this Danny has shown, he was more than worthy of his father’s time. Not only that but Danny was more than okay with murder if it proved to be necessary. Not only that but he was a king of an entire realm and loved his father. He saw no true issue with this union. “Step-Father,” he decided. 

Danny gave the youngest Wayne an excited smile. “I’ll take it!” He looked at Bruce and took his hands in his own. “See my sweet Cassiopeia, you were so worried about Damian and Jason’s approval and they’re the first ones who are okay with us being together!”

The batman just gave his husband a disapproving look. “Because you just gave them both the go ahead for murder, of course they’ll like you,” he said in annoyance. Danny just let out a giggle and kissed his husband softly. 

“It will only be in moderation, right boys?” He asked, glancing at the two brothers. Jason and Damian both gave their father twin innocent smiles as they nodded their heads. 

“Of course, Father, in moderation,” Damian said smoothly. 

“If Dad gives us the go ahead first, I don’t see a problem,” Jason said crossing his arms. At this, Bruce let out a huff. Jason rarely called him Dad and usually only when he was upset or in need of comfort. Danny immediately got the dad name. He wasn’t jealous, definitely not. 

Dick let out a hum and took a seat next to Tim and looked at his other siblings and their de-facto siblings, Barb and Steph. “What do you guys think?”

Cass smiled. “Bruce is happy. New Dad is nice,” she said, shrugging her shoulders before she looked at Danny. “Dad?”

“Dad,” Danny agreed, a happy smile on his face. 

“I mean, Cass is right. Bruce is happier than I’ve ever seen him and I bet Danny can keep him on his toes,” Tim stated, giving Danny a look. 

“I’m right here,” Bruce grumbled. Danny shushed his husband and looked at the siblings. 

“Do I pass?” He asked. Duke, Tim, Dick, and Barb all looked at one another before they shrugged. 

“Dad,” they all stated happily. 

“Will you be joining us on patrols?” Damian questioned, giving the man a hopeful look. 

Danny simply shook his head. “No, I’m just going to be Bruce’s happy little housewife. I’ll be here with Alfie, bonding and doing my own work. If any of you need me, you’ll be able to get a hold of me at any time. I’m more than happy to help but the vigilante thing isn’t my thing anymore.”

“What a shame,” Damian said with a tch. Danny just shrugged his shoulders and wrapped his arm around Bruce’s shoulders and kissed him again. 

“Love you,” he murmured, nibbling at Bruce’s bottom lip softly. Bruce just smiled. 

“Love you too,” he said in response, causing all of the siblings to stare in surprise. Bruce? Emotionally vulnerable? He could never.

Read part six here

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[britcision]

Okay so I’m well aware that this is probably my own fault, but a lot of people seem to have gotten the idea that Bruce is in any way important to this story

This is not a story about Batman

This is a story about the many and varied disaster gays he has trained to commit bigger and more epic disasters than any other gay in history

So let’s fix it and get back to the second most important thing in the story! Timker (and bonus Connor)

——————

Field Trips Without Permission Slips part 1

Tucker was still firmly in his happy bubble, floating along after Tim Drake-Wayne even as they left the Bat Cave.

Connor, Kon, Superboy, he’d be there soon. Tucker wanted to make a good impression; this was Tim’s boyfriend, Tucker really wanted the guy to like him.

That way they could all be friends, and he wouldn’t worry if Tucker and Tim hung out, and talked tech, and maybe got to have a hackathon…

Because of course, even notorious ladies’ man Too Fine Foley would never make a move on a taken man. That’d just be low.

He was just trying to work out what to say when Tim got a buzz on his phone. The excitement dropped off the younger man’s face in an instant, his expression immediately shifting to worry and determination.

“Something’s come up,” he said tersely, and Tucker frowned, wondering if he was about to hear about a second rogue attack in almost as many days.

Gotham… Gotham was kinda exhausting. No offence, obviously, even he could feel the Curse lingering on the back of his tongue.

But trying to keep this city safe was like bailing a sinking boat with a sieve. No wonder they needed the best of the best.

“How can I help?” Was all he offered, trying to make himself look ready and eager.

Tim’s eyes widened as he looked up, like he was only just remembering that Tucker was actually even there at all. That yeah, he definitely could help.

Actually, it turned out he was their subject matter expert when Tim explained the problem.

“Superman just told B he can’t hear Jason’s heart anymore. I don’t suppose there’s a reason you’d know of?” He asked hopefully, and Tucker’s jaw clicked shut.

Because… yeah, he could guess exactly why Jason was now out of range of super hearing. But the bats weren’t cleared to know about Jason’s halfa nature yet, and Tucker was pretty sure Jason couldn’t transform.

It’d be a wild time for him to give it a first try if Superman was listening in. He’d have to warn Danny and Jason, though that might have to wait if they’d… gone… to the Ghost Zone.

And yeah, okay, Tucker maybe shoulda thought of that first, but in his defence Danny died on a regular basis and occasionally just to show off.

Shoulders sagging as he relaxed, Tucker blew out a long breath and grinned at Tim, relief making him lax. And yeah, sure, he didn’t know why they’d gone, but he could bullshit something if they asked.

“Oh, yeah actually… they’re probably in the Ghost Zone,” he explained with a slight shrug, because really? It wasn’t a big deal.

Some of the tension leached out of Tim’s shoulders with the presence of an immediate answer.

“The Ghost Zone? That’s the Infinite Realms, right?” Tim asked and Tucker nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets.

It was always nice to be the guy with all the answers, but having all the answers for someone like Tim Drake-Wayne? Yeah, that felt extra good.

“Yeah, same place. It’s mostly only the Ancients that call it the Infinite Realms, and Danny and Jason probably won’t bother them.”

Not unless Clockwork chose to make another visit, but that would be an Ancient going to bother Danny and Jason.

Tim nodded thoughtfully, making some quick notes on his phone.

“Any idea why, or how long they’ll be? Bruce has probably convinced himself Jason’s dead again by now,” he added dryly, sounding neither impressed nor concerned.

Well, maybe a little concerned. Tucker had kinda gotten the stage door tickets to Batman’s opinion of Danny.

Tucker shrugged again, thinking back quickly over what Jason had told him he’d told his family. He was gonna make himself a cheatsheet if (hope of hopes) hanging out with Tim became a regular thing.

Frostbite? Yeah, they probably mentioned Frostbite. No need to mention he was an Ancient, the yeti certainly never brought it up.

“They’re probably going to see Danny’s doctor. Check Jason’s ecto contamination, see how Danny’s doing away from his haunt; that’s Amity Park,” he added as Tim’s brows furrowed momentarily. “Technically halfas don’t need need one, but Danny claimed it so we dunno what leaving will do to him.”

Which made it sound way more dramatic than it actually was; even full ghosts could leave their haunt if they wanted to. Not all of them even kept haunts in the Zone.

They’d asked last year, before Danny finally took the plunge (and yeah maybe coming out of puberty was why he’d waited a couple extra years - not that he’d gotten the promised Fenton Growth Spurt).

Frostbite had just asked if they even knew where Ember’s haunt was.

News to Tucker and the gang that she’d even had one, with how much she wanted to go on tour.

Danny’s haunt would always be his place of power, but with the power Danny wielded? He never needed it anymore. Tucker was pretty sure that when he actually became king the whole Ghost Zone was gonna be Danny’s haunt.

Not cuz anyone had explicitly said so. Just interpreting a lot of the flowery bullshit around Pariah. And no one had told him no yet either.

Tim just nodded, typing a moment more before sending off a quick reply to Bruce.

He did feel a little bad tattling on Danny and Jason like that. If they’d wanted anyone to know where they were going, they coulda just said.

But they also probably hadn’t known Superman would be listening, or notice Jason’s heart disappearing. Really Tucker was doing everyone a favour; making sure no one came back to Batman in a panic attack.

He just hoped Jason would see it the same way.

And then the single hottest person Tucker had ever seen in his entire life popped his head around the door, perfectly windswept black curls pushed back with one hand.

A smile of perfectly white, perfectly even teeth flashed as gorgeous blue eyes like the heart of the ocean landed on him and Tim.

On Tim.

Tim was smiling back even before the other entered the room.

Tim’s boyfriend.

Tucker raised Ida to cover his face without even thinking, cheeks burning and really really really hoping neither white boy knew enough about dark skin to tell.

Tim’s brother Duke was Black too.

Tucker was going to fucking die.

He could not go weak kneed at just the sight of Tim’s boyfriend!

He was only vaguely aware when the walking Adonis spoke, striding quickly into the room.

“Hey, any reason I should be worried that Jason and Danny just disappeared from Gotham’s airspace?”

Ancients even his voice was perfect, rich and smooth like dark chocolate, with just a little bass that made Tucker’s heart flutter. If that voice said his name Tucker was going to fucking die.

Tucker strangled most of the whimper in his throat because he was a fucking adult goddamn it. Jumped and almost smacked himself in the face when Tim called his name from right next to him.

Loudly.

Like he’d said it a couple times already.

And the World’s Hottest Man was looking at him too, the absolute cutest worried little frown marring his perfect brows, and oh ancients just the littlest pout on soft, full lips…

Yeah, no, someone get the headstone, Tucker would just bury himself out back.

———————

Note: I’m genuinely still turning over which name our dear Superboy Prime is going by as his regular name, since it’s… about 1000% going to depend on his relationship with Clark

I cannot fucking imagine anyone but Clark gave Kon El his Kryptonian name. Just. No fucking way. (Kara could but then we’re back to Too Many Characters and tbh she has more tact than that)

So their relationship has to be good enough that Clark offered this very personal piece of himself, and Connor’s accepted it

But Connor is the name his first friends gave him

And his civilian name, so it’s not like he can whole hog the switch

Atm the Bats call him Kon in uniform as the world’s shittiest cover but we’re getting his POV next chapter and I need to know what he calls himself, so… poll!

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara a @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife e @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer writer @chaoticmistake e @the-legal-shipper r @bun-fish @aroranorth-west t  @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon on @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 1 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan n @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 7 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel @honeysuckletook  

For anyone wondering, the reason the tag list looks like it’s having seizures is my phone has decided that letting me scroll around is far too convenient and it’s just going to randomly jump around if I try and move the cursor

You cannot tag a bitch on tumblr mobile without scrolling to the end of their name and selecting them on the search

If you are not at the end it will autocomplete what’s left and thus *gestures vaguely* happy WIP Wednesday

[leclerced]

morning?? afternoon?? idk. craving sweet domesticity with max. something about having his kid, and bringing them to the paddock so they can watch their dad do what he does best, win races. i think he’d pick her up, and immediately ditch his media duties because, look at his kid!! She has a little Red Bull hat on and she has his eyes and hhh, Makes max want another one. breeding go brr

-

🩰

this is so cute !!

thinking ab his wife surprising him one race weekend and he sees them arrive during an interview and he just excuses himself immediately like, “oh sorry i’ve gotta go." and rushes to greet them without explaining anything. the camera pans to follow him bc they’re wondering why he just walked away and are met with the heartwarming sight of max lifting his daughter into the air before hugging her close.

max tells her he’s so happy they came to see him, that he thought since her first year of preschool is starting that week that they couldn't make it, and she teases him, “well i’d rather be at home but this little munchkin wouldn’t settle for watching daddy on tv this time. can’t say no to her, y’know?” and is just staring at their kid w the most adoring look in her eyes. he knows there's nowhere she'd rather be than anywhere with him, preferably at home in bed, so laughs at her teasing before following her gaze n staring into his daughters eyes while she shoves a toy at him and he totally gets it. he can't seem to tell her no either, even when she's tangling her doll in his hair while trying to make it balance on his head. gives his wife a lil kiss before taking her hand in his free one and leading her to his garage. he's got their daughter on his hip and probably takes her to see danny and charles when she spots them across the paddock and wants to say hi, show them the toy she brought or ask her mom for candy, then immediately gives it away.

he skips all his media duties and him and wifey sits on the garage floor with their kid playing with her toys, max occasionally being pulled away for his work but he always ends up back with them. sm drivers and people come visit to the redbull garage just to see her, giving her hugs and high fives. max definitely ends up asking danny or charles to watch her for a bit while he drags wife away to his driver's room to get started on baby number two!!

also thinking about charles having a kid around the same time so they grow up together. they’d cause SO much trouble and would sneak off together, not intentionally just kids wandering around y’know, and their parents are searching everywhere for them only to find them somewhere they’d never expect, like in the back of the mercedes garage with toto, napping in some chairs using merc jackets as blankets.

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Race to Help

Summary: No One Knows AU Part 25, Danny's evening is interrupted by everything that's been happening that he's been unaware of.

...

Danny has spent the afternoon since he got home from the hospital paying much closer attention to his parents, and he’s come to a conclusion.  He’ll tell them.  Eventually.

It’s not a huge step up, but it’s at least a step up from his former plan of “take this to my second grave.”  It had seemed like the best and only possible choice for such a long time.  But his parents do seem very different, meaning something Jazz did worked.  And telling Valerie he’s Phantom made him realize that sometimes if you give people the opportunity, they surprise you.  Valerie immediately accepted that Phantom was different from how she thought, the moment she learned he was him.  Maybe his parents would do something like that too.

That doesn’t mean he’s ready, and he thinks that’s fair.  He can’t switch from “my parents want to rip me apart molecule by molecule” to “my parents love me for who I am” in half a day.  There needs to be a “maybe” phase in there somewhere.  But he’ll give it some thought, and try to stop writing it off as impossible.

And he’s definitely not telling Jazz yet.  He can’t bear even the thought of the smug look on her face.

But for now, at least, he’s gonna give himself more chances to spend time with his parents and not be totally miserable or terrified throughout.  Such as attempting to make edible food with them.

“Danny-boy, add some more garlic to that sauce,” Dad calls from his spot putting noodles in a serving bowl.

“Are you sure there’s not enough already?” Danny asks.

“Danno, as you get older you’ll learn, there’s no such thing as too much garlic.”

Danny snorts.  “Alright, more garlic it is,” he says.  He shifts on his useless and very annoying crutches to reach for the garlic.

“Oh I’ve got it honey,” Mom says.  “Do you think you could go get your sister?  We’re gonna be putting things on the table.”

“Sure,” Danny says, heading for the steps and up to Jazz’s room.  As soon as he’s out of sight of his parents, he shifts the crutches to one hand and walks up the steps while carrying them.

“Jazz,” he calls along with a knock on the door.  “We’re having dinner!”

No response comes from the room, and Danny knocks again.

“Jazz, you there?”

When he gets no response again, he pushes the door open, and finds no one there, though the window is open to let the breeze in.

Danny sets the crutches against the wall, crosses the hall and knocks on the bathroom door, but it swings open with his knock to reveal no one in there.

“Huh,” he says aloud to himself.  “Must be in the lab.”

He grabs the crutches and starts for the steps again to head back towards the kitchen.  Before he can make it all the way down the steps, however, he hears a set of loud frantic knocks on the front door, so he changes pace and heads there instead.

“Coming!” he calls when the frantic knocks don’t stop.  “Sheesh.”

He opens the door and finds himself face to face with Sam, who looks an absolute mess.  Her hair is wild and she’s breathing frantically and she keeps fidgeting with the wrist ray he gave her, which he hasn’t seen in ages.

Danny blinks at her.  “Sam?”

Sam opens her mouth, but looks at the crutches he’s leaning on and then can’t seem to get anything out.

“Hey uh, look,” Danny says, looking down.  “Tucker was supposed to talk to you.  I really just need a little bit of time to myself.”  He takes a breath and looks back up at Sam.  He can do this.  “I don’t want to hurt you guys, but—”

Sam bursts into tears.

Danny stares at her for a second, then shakes himself.  “Okay, you know what, nevermind, we can talk about that later!  Come on, let’s go to my room, we can talk more privately.”

Sam shakes her head, and opens her mouth to try and say something, but it just comes out as another sob.

“Sam, come on,” Danny says gently.  He moves the crutches enough to hold a hand out and usher her inside.  “We don’t have to do this out in front of my house, let’s go upstairs.”  Thankfully, Sam makes her way in, though she stays out of his reach.

“Mom, Dad!” Danny calls, turning towards the kitchen.  “I need a minute, sorry!  Don’t wait for me!”

“What’s going on, sweetie—” Mom starts, but she stops when she walks in and sees Sam crying off to the side.

“We’ll keep something warm for you,” she says with a gentle smile, and she heads back into the kitchen.

It takes a minute to get them both upstairs and into his room, especially since he has to pretend to use the crutches this time, but they get there.  Sam doesn’t seem to be in much of a better state, however.  Danny balances himself on the crutches and reaches out to put his hands on her shoulders.

“Okay, what’s going on?” he says.  “Come on, you can talk to me.”

Sam shakes her head again, and finally manages to get something out.  It sounds like “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Danny says gently.  “It’s alright, just tell me what’s going on, okay?  I can’t help if I don’t know.”

Sam takes a couple of deep, heaving breaths, and wipes at her eyes.  Then she all but collapses back against Danny’s door, and slides to the ground.

“Sam?” Danny says, wishing he could kneel down in front of her without giving the game away.

“I,” Sam says, “I know you’re Phantom.”

Danny goes still.  He opens his mouth, trying to come up with something to say, but then Sam keeps going.

“I’ve always known,” she says, burying her head in her hands.  “Since— since that night Tucker and I said we got captured by a ghost.  We lied.  Well, sort of, we didn’t— we— Vlad captured us.  He did that and then he somehow pretended to be two people and tried to act like he saved us from this vampire ghost and then he drove us back to the police station and he— he told us you’re Phantom, but he said you were evil and trying to kill us, and I believed him because of that whole thing at Circus Gothica which I don’t even know what the hell happened there anymore but it doesn’t matter anyway because Vlad said he would like, teach us to hunt ghosts and to hunt you and so I said yes because— because I’m just a terrible friend and I made Tucker do it to even though he really didn’t want to and we’re— we’re the new Huntresses working with Valerie that’s us, and Vlad told us about Valerie but he didn’t tell Valerie about us because— well because duh, and so I tried to keep you away from her because I thought you were gonna hurt her or something and I was s-so— so awful to you because I was trying to hurt you because I wanted you to hurt and because I was so scared you’d try and hurt me or Tucker because I thought— I thought you wanted to and because Vlad said that you wanted to and I did so— so many terrible things to you and I don’t know how you can ever forgive me but Vlad— Vlad has Tucker and he put this— this thing on Tucker and my suits that can like, control the suit while we’re in it and he made Tucker kidnap Jazz and I can’t use my suit because he’d do the same thing to me that he did to Tucker but I can’t fight him on my own because all I have is the wrist ray you gave me and that didn’t work the first time against Vlad and I’m sorry I need your help I’m so sorry!”

Sam buries her head in her knees and starts sobbing, and Danny stares at her, feeling a little faint.

“Oh,” he says weakly.  “That… would explain a lot.”

Sam tightens her grip around her knees and starts crying harder.

Danny looks at her for another second, then sets the crutches on his bed and kneels down in front of her.

“Sam,” he says gently, “look at me.”

Sam starts to raise her head, but gives up halfway there and just stares down at the floor, shaking her head.  “I can’t,” she whispers.

Danny reaches out and gently raises her chin until she’s looking him in the eye.

He smiles gently.  “I forgive you.”

Sam stares at him.  She blinks tears out of her eyes.  “You… why?”

Danny lets go of Sam and she drops her gaze again.

“Well, for one,” he says anyway.  “Vlad is an absolute piece of shit who is really good at manipulating people.  I know what he’s like, and I wouldn’t put any of what you just said past him.  You also clearly feel terrible about this, and you know where you messed up and you aren’t gonna do it again.  But mainly…” Danny shakes his head.  “God, I fucking missed you, Sam.”

Sam sniffs, and Danny sees her wipe her eyes again.  After a second of hesitation, he leans forward and pulls Sam into a hug, mostly because he’s not sure what else to do.

He can feel Sam start to pull back, and he doesn’t want to force her to stay there, so he lets her.  Besides, they have other matters to attend to.

“Okay,” he says, pushing himself to his feet.  Sam looks up after him, but otherwise doesn’t move.

“You said Vlad has Tucker and Jazz?” he asks.  Sam nods.

Danny holds out his hand, and Sam takes it.  He pulls her up, and looks at her until she meets his gaze.

“Well, I don’t like that,” Danny says.  “You wanna go kick his butt?”

And despite it all, Sam smiles just a little.

…

Sam waits down on the ground while Danny flies up and knocks on the window.  It doesn’t take very long before it opens and Valerie sticks her head out, looking more than a little surprised to see him.

“Danny?” she asks, and wow, it’s still weird to hear Valerie say his name while he’s in ghost form.

“Hey Val,” he says with a nervous smile.  “Can I ask you a favor?”

“Me?” Valerie asks incredulously.  “I mean, of course.  But why?”

“So, uh, you know the guy you got the suit from?  That was Vlad, right?”  He doesn’t really want to phrase it that way, but Sam already mentioned her in between the talk about Vlad, and he doesn’t want to act like he doesn’t know, either.

“Yeah,” Valerie says slowly.  “Why?”  Suddenly, her eyes widen.  “Is he bothering you?  Do you want me to go yell at him?  I can do that.”

“Uh, no,” Danny says quickly, holding up his hands.  “Really bad idea.  Listen, I’m gonna tell you a crash course of too much information, but I need you to just roll with it, okay?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time we both did something like that,” Valerie says.  “What’s going on?”

So, as quickly as he can, Danny explains everything he’s just learned, from Sam and Tucker, to the way Vlad messed with both of their suits, to the spy cameras in all three suits, which Sam told him about when he mentioned getting Valerie’s help, to how they need to go save Tucker and Jazz now.

When he finishes, Valerie stares at him for a minute.

“Wow,” she says finally.  “And I thought our situation was bad.”

“Yeah,” Danny says.  “I’m dealing with that part later, though.”

Valerie seems to shake herself.  “Right.  Okay.  So, you said Vlad didn’t put any controlling mechanisms in my suit, right?  You’re positive on that?”

Danny nods.  “He only took Sam and Tucker’s suits back to do that after you left.”

“Okay.  Then I’ll deal with the spy cameras later.  He’s bound to know we’re coming anyway.  I’ll let my dad know where I’m going and meet you outside.”

She shuts the window before Danny can be surprised at the telling her dad part.

Danny flies back down to join Sam, and sure enough, a couple minutes later, Valerie walks out followed by Mr Gray.

“You promise you’ll be safe?” he says.  “And you’ll contact me if you need help?”

“And I’ll let you know if I’m not going to be back after two hours,” Valerie says, only sounding a little annoyed.  “Thanks Dad.  Now we gotta go.”

“Be safe!” her dad calls, and Valerie gives him a nod and a smile.

“We’ll be safe, sir,” Danny says to Mr Gray.

“You’d better,” Mr Gray says, with a knowing look in his eye that Danny doesn’t have time to worry about.  He gives Valerie one last quick hug and heads back inside.

“Okay,” Valerie says, turning to Danny as soon as the door shuts.  “We doing this?”

“Yeah,” Danny says.  “But first, Sam.”

Sam startles as she turns to him, then looks down and starts fidgeting with her wrist ray.

“You said you took your suit off before coming to talk to me, right?”

Sam nods.  Danny wishes she’d look at him.  He’s getting a little tired of people not looking at him.

“Then he might not know you’re coming.  I think we should keep it that way.  Would you mind if I carry you and make you invisible?”

At that, Sam’s gaze snaps immediately to his, and Danny can tell she minds.  It’s the best option they have, though, so he doesn’t take it back.

Finally, Sam nods shakily.  “Okay,” she says, her voice shaking a little.

She walks over to him, and lets Danny pick her up.  He turns her invisible, but not intangible, meaning he feels it when Sam wraps her arms around his neck and digs her nails into the fabric of his hazmat suit.

Danny winces, but tightens his grip on her.  “I’m not gonna drop you,” he says quietly.

“Okay,” Sam whispers, sounding like she’s trying to force herself to believe it.

Valerie puts her suit on next to them, and Danny shifts his arms so they look as natural as possible while still being able to hold on tightly to Sam.

“Okay,” he says, starting to rise slowly into the air, and trying to ignore Sam’s quickening breaths.  “Do either of you have any ideas as to what we should be expecting?”

…

Tucker thinks that Jazz is remarkably calm for someone with a gun pressed against her head.

To be fair, it is his suits’ ecto-gun, and maybe she has a bit more experience with that kind of weapon.  But he wouldn’t be this calm with a gun of any kind to his head, and Jazz has spent the whole time taking deep breaths and looking around the room with obvious intent to learn as much as she can.

Vlad’s remote thing is still making it so Tucker can’t talk, meaning Jazz probably doesn’t have any idea who’s threatening her, unless she’s worked it out some other way.  She hasn’t said anything about him, but she certainly seems to know who Vlad is.  Not that she’s said anything to him either.

She’s instead looking very intently at all of the consoles spread throughout the lab.  Maybe she knows something about them, due to her family?  She probably knows Danny’s secret, based on the fact that Vlad went after her directly, and the fact that she’s so calm right now.  Her knowing something like this was possible beforehand would definitely help with the nerves.

Vlad, for his part, is standing as Plasmius next to the both of them, looking at a screen on the opposite console that shows Danny and Valerie approaching.

The closer they get, the more Tucker feels his breath start to quicken, which is the only way his nerves can show.  He has no idea what Vlad’s going to make him do when they get here.  He just has to hope it’s not “shoot Jazz in the head.”  He’s pretty sure ecto-guns aren’t lethal to humans, but that doesn’t mean it’ll feel nice, especially not at point-blank range.

Vlad glances up towards the ceiling, which is the only warning Tucker gets before there’s a loud blast and the sound of falling debris.  It sounded like a wall was damaged, but none of the walls are falling down around him, so he’s not sure what they hit.

Vlad sets his screen down on a nearby console, and turns to face the door to the lab.

And… nothing happens.  There’s a long stretch of time of silence and then staring at the door.  It gets to a point where Tucker can see Vlad is starting to get confused too.

But then, finally, Danny and Valerie round the corner.  Danny has a hand raised with a plasma blast and Valerie’s holding up her gun, but neither of them fires anything yet.

“Hello Daniel,” Vlad says.

“Vlad,” Danny says, his voice low and tense.  But he’s already turning to Jazz without seeming to care much about Vlad.

“Are you okay?” he asks.  Jazz nods, though Tucker can feel the slight shake as she does.

“Don’t worry, we’re gonna get you out of here,” Danny says to Jazz, and then he raises his gaze right to Tucker, without glaring at him for some reason.

Vlad chuckles.  “Oh, you are, are you?  Well my boy, I think there’s something you don’t know—”

“Oh my god, we so don’t have time for this,” Valerie says.  Then she points her gun at Vlad and fires.

Vlad gets knocked back a step, then turns to Valerie, looking almost offended.

“Do you normally blast someone in the middle of a—”

Tucker’s not surprised when Danny cuts him off by blasting him in the chest.  The opportunity was just right there.

Vlad narrows his eyes and fires back, and then the two of them both fly at him, chasing him away from Tucker and Jazz.

Tucker can’t turn his head to look, so he’s planning on trying to take deep breaths and hoping that Vlad doesn’t accidentally hit the button that makes him kill Jazz.

Instead, his gaze snaps back to the door when Sam sprints out of it.

“What the—” Jazz says, voicing Tucker’s thoughts for him.

Sam shushes her as she runs up to the both of them, then looks over at the fight happening on the other half of the room and pulls Jazz away from Tucker.

Jazz’s breath catches, but Vlad is still distracted, meaning Jazz just ends up facing him in confusion when Tucker doesn’t move his arm at all.

“Can you move?” Sam asks, reappearing right in Tucker’s face.  When he doesn’t say anything, understanding blooms in her eyes.  “You can’t talk, can you?”

No, how does she know that?  How does she know anything that’s going on?  Why isn’t she wearing her suit right now, or trying to fight Danny?

“It’s gonna be okay,” Sam says, though her voice is shaking.  She goes for his wrist, and the bracelet that holds his suit.  Tucker has just enough time to see she’s not wearing her bracelet at all before he hears Vlad snap, “You little brat.”

Then he feels his arm raise and he fires his gun into Sam’s chest, knocking her back into the wall.

Tucker manages a whimper, which does not feel at all satisfying as an expression of free will.

Tucker feels himself spin around and face Vlad, who is now pointing the remote directly at Tucker.

“Hey!” Danny snaps, blasting Vlad in the back of the head.  “Pay attention to me, fruit loop!”

Instead, Vlad turns around and shoots Danny in the face, though that’s immediately followed by Valerie shooting him from the other side.

All of which apparently gives Jazz enough time to run around his other side.

“What was she trying to take off?” she asks, clearly having noticed Vlad’s remote.

Tucker still can’t answer, but thankfully Sam appears a second later on his other side, though she’s holding her hand to her chest now and it’s making Tucker’s chest hurt too.

“The bracelet,” Sam says to Jazz.  “We have to get his bracelet off.”

“Oh no you don’t,” comes Vlad’s voice again, and this time Tucker’s board rockets kick on, and he rises into the air.  Tucker can see Danny coming towards Vlad from his other side, but rather than try and block it, he hits a button on the remote and Tucker’s gun raises and fires at Danny.  Since he isn’t looking in this direction, the blast knocks him into the wall behind him.

That doesn’t feel anything like shooting a dummy.

A shot comes from below Tucker, and then Sam runs out in front of him, shooting her wrist ray into Vlad’s face.  It doesn’t seem to hurt him, but it distracts him enough that Valerie can shoot him from behind.  Vlad growls, spins around, and fires at her, which just gives Danny enough time to recover and blast him again.

Vlad, seeming very irritated, throws up a glowing pink sphere around himself, which absorbs the next blasts coming at him.

As soon as he sees this works, Vlad turns to his remote, and Tucker finds himself raising his gun and shooting another blast at Danny, which at least he dodges this time.

Danny seems to realize the problem the same time as Tucker, though, which is as long as Vlad has a shield up that they can’t break, they can’t get to the remote either.  And while they don’t seem to want to hurt him, Vlad has no such qualms about them.

As soon as Tucker starts firing, Danny flies back towards Sam and Jazz and throws up a shield of his own, and Valerie puts up her own that’s connected to her suit.

For a moment, everything stops.  And then Sam gets a look in her eye that Tucker recognizes.

She runs out from behind Danny’s shield, raises her wrist ray, and fires it into the ceiling above Vlad’s head.  It cracks and starts to crumble, and she fires it again, bringing debris down on top of Vlad’s shield that shoves him towards the ground and knocks the remote out of his hands.

Vlad has just enough time to cry out in surprise before a piece of the ceiling falls directly on top of it.

As soon as feeling rushes back into his limbs, Tucker flies down to the floor and twists the bracelet off, then he takes it off and stomps on it.

He wraps his arms around himself and takes a deep shaky breath, just before Sam runs up to him and throws her arms around him.

Tucker doesn’t have time to hug her back, however, before Vlad cries out in rage and spins around, dropping his shield as he faces Tucker and Sam, raising his arm with a plasma blast.

Sam pushes Tucker behind her and raises her wrist ray again, but before she can fire Danny drops down in front of them and pulls up his own shield that bounces Vlad’s shot off into one of the consoles.

“Back off, Plasmius,” he growls, voice low.  “Get out of here.”

Valerie lands down next to him, and Jazz steps forward next to Sam.

Vlad pauses, takes a moment to look at all of them, and then smartly turns and flies off.

Tucker sees some of the tension release from Danny’s shoulders as soon as he does, and then he turns to look at the three of them standing behind him.

“Are you guys okay?” he asks, looking mostly between Tucker and Jazz.

Tucker doesn’t know quite what to say, and Danny seems to pick up on that.

“Hey,” he says, meeting his gaze.  “I told you.  You need me, and I’ll be there.”

Tucker swallows, and nods weakly.  “Okay,” he says weakly.  His voice comes out much shakier than he’d like.

“Hey,” Jazz says, drawing everyone’s gaze.  “Uh, can I ask what in the world just happened?”

Danny laughs a little.  “I’ll fill you in,” he says, walking over to her.  “Come on.”

The two of them start over to the other side of the room, and Sam turns immediately to Tucker.

“Are you okay?” she asks, reaching out and taking him by the shoulders.  “You— I—” she stops, seeming lost.

Tucker takes in her shaking hands, and the expression on her face, and the fact that she just fought Vlad side by side with Danny and Valerie, and realizes that somehow, she has to know.

He reaches out and pulls her into a tight hug, slumping a little bit against her shoulder.  “Thank god,” he whispers.

Sam sniffs and reaches up to hug him back.

Tucker opens his eyes and finds Valerie standing behind Sam, looking gravely at them both.

He opens his mouth, trying to come up with anything to say.

Valerie shakes her head.  “We’ll talk,” she says.  “We will.”

Tucker nods, and Sam pulls back from the hug to look at her.  For a moment, the three of them just stare at each other.

“Okay,” comes Danny’s voice, and all three of them turn to face him and Jazz.  Jazz is looking at Tucker and Sam in a way that makes Tucker take a step back.

“So uh, we have to get home,” Danny says.  “Our parents are kind of expecting us for dinner.  I can drop you guys off first, if you want, but we’ll have to, uh, talk tomorrow.”

Sam looks away, and Tucker glances after her for a moment before turning back to Danny and nodding.

“Don’t worry about it,” Valerie says, stepping forward.  “I’ll take ‘em home.  You two go ahead.”

“You sure?” Danny asks, and Valerie nods.

So, Danny and Jazz head up the stairs, and as soon as they’re gone, Sam turns to Tucker.

“I want to get out of here,” she says, grabbing his arm.  “Please.”

“Yeah, let’s go,” Valerie says, starting past them.  “This place gives me the creeps.”

They all start for the steps, and Tucker turns to Sam, who’s looking down at her feet as they walk.

“Hey,” he says, reaching out and squeezing her hand.  “It’s okay.”

Sam looks up and gives him a weak smile.  She doesn’t really look like she believes him, but they walk out of the training grounds squeezing each other’s hands.

[lesbicosmos]

rewatching s1 of broadchurch even tho im halfway through my first watch of s3 because i have an obsession with rewatching things and DAMN there are way more hints at who ended up being the killer than i originally thought, and a bunch of moments that are really ironic in hindsight

spoilers under the cut (yes it came out like 10 years ago but im still putting a spoiler warning)

ep1 - joe and ellie talk in the kitchen after hardy makes the statement to the media

joe: do you know what happened? i mean should we be worried for other kids?

on first watch, his tone of voice and body language here just seem like confused and worried parent, but on second, there's definitely a hint of panic in his voice

ep2 - joe, tom and fred in the cafe

joe: this is a terrible, unspeakable thing thats happened. but nothing like it will ever happen again here

tom: you cant know that though can you? you cant be sure

then after this joe's facial expression looks SO guilty like he can't think how to respond

ep3 - hardy questioning tom with joe in the room

hardy: can you think of anyone who would want to hurt danny?

THEN THE CAMERA IMMEDIATELY CUTS TO JOE. ik near the end joe swears he never wanted to hurt him but this is still a rly clever piece of editing, i love when shows do this. also the fact that in every scene where he's questioning tom, joe's in the room and occasionally talks but he's never in the frame of the camera hardys using to record it. he was literally right under their noses the entire time and they never suspected because they were focused on other people too much

ep4 hardy goes to the millers" for dinner

this scene hits so much different on second viewing holy shit. at one point they're talking about marriage and work and how hardy's divorce was partially work-related and:

hardy: this job, it does it to you

ellie: well, not to us

ellie actually makes me sob she loves her life so much then it all just comes crashing down on her

joe: do you think you're gonna solve this case?

hardy: certain.

joe: good :)

joe's reply itself here makes sense but there's a few seconds before he says it where his face is just blank and mildly panicked. he's genuinely worrying about being caught at this point.

now this one isn't a direct hint or anything but just if you think about the dialogue in a different context...yeah it fits

hardy: you bloody liar

joe: ive said nothing

hardy: and yet-

joe said nothing to the police or ellie and yet was lying the WHOLE time.

ep5 - brian asks ellie out

ellie: sorry, im married

brian: and thats an issue is it?

ellie: happily married, brian

brian: oh. okay, fair enough. only lots of people aren't though, are they?

ellie: i am.

THE IRONY OH ELLIE LET ME GIVE YOU A HUG PLEASE

ep6 - jack's wake

ellie spends the whole scene looking around to see if anyone looks worried, at one point she looks into a room (seemingly at nige but joe is stood nearby having a different conversation) and she makes eye contact with joe RIGHT as the camera cuts away

ep 6 - joe takes tom to the skate park and ellie arrives

ellie: i was just looking round that bar at the wake thinking "its someone here, why cant i see it?" the longer this goes on, im starting to suspect everyone

joe: when you say everyone...

ellie: well, nearly everyone

this is probably the most obvious hint that i can't believe i didn't catch on to. of COURSE they're gonna make a point for the killer to be the ONE person ellie LITERALLY SAYS she isn't suspicious of.

ep7 - ellie lets susan leave the police station

ellie (about susan's past with her husband and daughters): in your own house, how could you not know?

just ow. the irony of it all. fucking ow.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC John Constantine's How To: Ghost Kids (pt.2)

[<- part 1]

"Oh, yeah," John jerks his head up like he just remembered the fact people are supposed to have names at all. He gestures to the kids, pointing to each of them as he introduces, "Daniel, Daniel, and Danielle."

This time, all three kids flip him off simultaneously. Bruce clears his throat, trying to figure out if Constantine is messing with him and, if so, in which parts. Since, so far, everything the man has said sounds like a poor attempt at pulling his leg.

"I don't think they like those," he cautiously says, and the kids whip their heads at him, nodding furiously. Bruce can't help but be just a little enamored with the way they behave.

"Of, sod off, at this point I don't care what they like," John straightens up with a dismissive, albeit weak, wave of his hands, and rubs his face, "They are menaces. Sometimes by accident, but mostly on purpose. Their grandfather thought it would be easier to handle them if they were not teenagers, and while I agreed with his reasoning at the time, I-" he glances at the kids, who all have displeased grimaces of various levels on their faces, "I have been made to reconsider. I swear that ancient bitch is laughing his ass off wherever he is now."

The kids suddenly grin. They are not very friendly, nor polite smiles - if anything, they look a bit nightmarish. An old grandfather's clock in his study makes a very loud ticking noise.

"See?" John whips his head to look at said clock, the expression on his face bordering on insane. His eye twitches.

If Bruce doesn't do anything now, he might become one of the very few people who managed to witness John Constantine, the Laughing Magician, have a meltdown. So he sighs and decides to solve the problems one at a time.

Which means that no matter how alarmed or suspicious he is, his first move would not be to interrogate either the man or the kids.

"You can sleep in one of the guest rooms, I trust you can find it on your own," he tells John, almost softly, as he catches the girl from slipping away from his lap, "Is there anything I need to know about children before you fall unconscious?"

John slumps with relief, so obviously that Bruce almost smiles. Hardships of raising - or, watching, for that matter - kids, he understands.

"Yes," he breathes out with an air of exhilaration and turns to the kids again, pointing to the middle child, "Danny is the original. He is from this dimension and timeline, that is. Dan," he turns his finger to the older boy, "is in the wrong timeline, he's Danny's future evil self redeemed into older bratty brother. Dani," he switches to the girl, "is Danny's clone, made by his arch-nemesis of a godfather. If she starts melting at any point, wake me up immediately. If any of them start floating, sprouting tentacles, speaking to walls in static, or glowing, don't."

Bruce looks down to the kids. So, definitely metas, that would explain the government trying to get them... Or, no, it wouldn't because he is fairly certain no government is going to blatantly ignore the Meta Protection Acts.

"Don't let them raise the dead, and if you give them food, make sure it doesn't have a face. If you find more than three of them, it means one of them has duplicated, don't worry, they will absorb it back later. Absolutely don't let them touch any guns," Constantine is backing down to the door as he speaks, his gaze flickering from the kids to Bruce and back every second. Like he is leaving a ticking bomb in Bruce's lap, and not three children. "Danny is, comparatively, the most responsible one, the other two are up for any dubious trouble they can get to at any moment. Oh, and their memories are wonky because of de-aging, they remember some things but not others, so if they say something particularly disturbing, it's most likely some random piece of knowledge they managed to keep."

Bruce raises an eyebrow. He did get the part about the kids being, well, abnormal in the matters of their origins, but the disjointed set of rules and advices doesn't help as much as Constantine probably thinks it does.

"Allergies, preferences, ages they were before?" He tries to get at least some more info down before John disappears through the door. Actually, maybe he should send someone to handcuff the man to the bed lest he disappears completely.

"None, but don't let them eat cutlery. Danny likes space, Dani has a thing for exploring, and Dan likes violence." The older kid stirs in Bruce's lap and says something in the direction of Constantine. No sound comes out, but the man seems to get what he's trying to say anyway, "Okay, yes, that was rude of me, sorry. Dan likes... exercise," he ends up with, and that placate the boy enough to slump down and cross his arms. John sighs, "They were seventeen, fourteen, and twenty respectively. Now," he snaps his fingers, and suddenly Bruce can hear the girl - Dani - humming a tune under her breath. So, he lifted the silence spell, it seems.

"Good fucking luck," John wishes to Bruce, earnestly, and all but vanishes away.

Bruce sighs and looks down to the kids.

"Are you hungry?" He tries, and all eyes are on him at once, attentive and unblinking.

"Fruitloops," Danny says, and while Bruce is positive that's the name for a cereal, he gets a feeling that's not what the kid meant.

[lukabitch]

Hello there my friendo! Apparently since you liked one of my requests (wesker calling his so masc pet names lol) I am HERE ONCE AGAIN!! Again no pressure to write this, I just understand writers block so if you need something, use this one!! How would any killers of your choice react to their so entering a trial in a shirtless skin (like davids?) bonus for trans kings if they notice the top surgery scars and kiss them awh <3

- handsome anon

I’ve been dealing with some writers block recently. So thank you so much Handsome Anon!

Tw: suggestive

Killers: Wesker, Ghostface, Legion(Frank & Joey), Trickster.

Wesker:

Oh my? He definitely likes.

Your skin looked so soft. He just wants to get his hands on you.

But he’ll wait until the perfect moment.

When he does have you he won’t let you go. Not that you wanted to be let go.

He’ll take his time running his gloved hands over your body.

He would take notice of the top surgery scars. Would run his fingers over them ever so gently.

“I appreciate the show love. Next time leave it for my eyes only.” His still possessive remember?

Of course you being you teased him about it. Making a bit of fun of his possessiveness.

He really did find the confidence that you had to be extremely attractive.

Just saying if you can match his confidence he’ll love you more.

Ghostface:

He wants to go honka honka on your moobs.

The things this man would do if he had his hands on you.

But first it’s photo shoot time.

He’ll ask you to pose for him. You said yes mainly because he looked too happy to disappoint.

He even shows you what poses he wants you to do.

After he was satisfied with the photos he’ll just press his face into your chest.

He was giggling like an idiot which would bring a smile to your face.

“You like being down there Danny?”

A very muffled ‘yeah’ left his mouth, fallowed by a kiss pressed into your scars.

He stayed like that for the rest of the trial. The entity was very upset at him.

Frank:

If you thought this man was bratty before you haven’t seen anything yet.

He was fuming that you showed yourself to other people then himself.

He would zero in on you having you under him in seconds.

He would try and reach to touch your scars. He was going to be gentle but you had other plans.

You somehow managed to turn the table and had him pinned.

“You have to ask nicely.” This man was squirming and whining under you.

Eventually he would cave and start begging.

You’d let him touch your chest ever so gently.

“Good boy.” He didn’t liked being called that too much.

Joey:

Oh.

He didn’t know exactly how to react to this.

He just knew you were really pretty.

Eventually the two of you would end up in a chase.

The chase would end in a locker, the two of you just staring at each other.

He watched you shiver and got very concerned. Taking off his je let handing it to you.

“Oh no honey I’m fine don’t worry.” You say very clearly cold. He wasn’t having it.

“Please wear a shirt next time.” He watched you pout at him.

He immediately starts to crumble and you had to quickly tell him you were goofing.

Trickster:

He was definitely the most excited. He gets to see your drop dead gorgeous bod.

Though that doesn’t really stop the sadistic side of him. He’ll through a knife at your back not hard.

You let out a yelp and glared at him. He just winked and walked up to you.

“Aw handsome look at you! My pretty boy!” He just leans against your chest.

If he does kiss your chest he’ll get lipstick on you.

You’ll complain about the lipstick but he doesn’t care.

He just lets you hold him while he just cuddles you.

You tired reminding him about the trial but he didn’t care.

He just wants to stay here with you.

[abeautylives]

Times I Remember Well

(and Some That I Don’t)

Part 2

author’s note: The word "skivvies" means underwear. Apparently not everyone knows that lol

pairing: female!OCxjake

time frame: 2014-2016

word count: 7k this part

warnings: language, more teenage angst, illicit substance use, underage drinking, mentions of sex and sexual situations, fingering, angry Sam

I was serious when I said I couldn’t show my face at the Kiszka household for a while. 

Sam showed up at my front door the next afternoon, and immediately started making fun of me for being rejected by his brother. 

“Oh Joshy, why won’t you kiss me?!” Complete with immature kissy sounds and puppy dog eyes.

I could only wonder what Josh had told him happened. He wouldn’t tell me. Menace.

It was one thing to hang out with Sam so soon after the incident, but there was no way I could be around Josh. Or even Jake.

The more I thought about that night (which was a lot), the more I over-analyzed Jake’s reaction to his twin cozying up to me.

Was I crazy to think that he was mad at me? Or at Josh? The look on his face had been murderous (it got even more murdery every time I thought about it). Had I imagined that?

Because I’m the luckiest girl on earth, I didn’t have to wait that long to find out.

After three weeks of avoiding their house all together, Sam convinced me to come by for a smoke sesh in the garage. Same as always, the usual, totally casual. I knocked twice on the door and let myself in, sat on the old throw rug right next to Sam, joined the rotation with Danny on the couch across from me and Sam to my left. Around and round it went, while I refused to meet the eyes of anyone in the room but Sammy.

Jake sat upon his ugly floral throne and Josh was tucked into the corner of the couch beside him. I risked peeking up at them, back and forth, whenever I knew they weren’t paying attention. 

They were so different. More different than I had ever realized, but Josh seemed okay - a little quiet but he smiled easily and laughed freely. I don’t think Jake even glanced in my direction once, but I was too scared to look at him for too long, so who knows.

Eventually, Sam smoked too much. He did this almost every time, you’d think he’d have figured it out by then. He laid himself flat out on the cement floor and dozed off, so I asked Danny to toss me one of the dingy throw pillows from the couch. 

“Here, stupid.” I shoved Sam’s shoulder and he stirred enough to lift his head, I stuffed the pillow underneath it. He went out like a light.

Jake chose the moment Sam passed out to stand from the chair. He stayed there for a second, and I could see him from the corner of my eye. Just standing there, like a total weirdo! So yeah, I looked up at him. Don’t you worry, he was already looking down at me and our eyes locked. Of course they did.

His expression was pretty neutral but made me feel squirmy anyway, so I blinked and looked at Josh instead. You guessed it, he was already looking at me too! Except he’s perfectly lovely and sweet, so he grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

“Come grab some snacks with me, Tiny.”

Nope, Josh didn’t say that. I nearly snapped my neck jerking my head back up to Jake. “C’mon, T.”

When we were still in middle school, Sam and I would sometimes watch reruns of The Twilight Zone, have you ever seen that show? Each episode was a story about some seriously weird and disturbing shit, alternate realities.

This was like that. I had entered the Twilight Zone.

Josh was my only option for help, so I obviously looked over at Danny instead. He was melting into the couch again, lightweight.

“Let’s go.” This Jake was freaking me out. I mean, he didn’t talk to me much under normal circumstances, but he definitely never asked me to go anywhere with him. Let alone demanded it.

“Okay!” Once again, I embarrassed myself under this roof. My voice came out strained and squeaky. Let’s blame it on the dry mouth. 

He skirted around the chair and out the side door, and my body just got up to follow him. Traitor! I stepped over Sam and before I made it to the door, Josh’s hand shot out and grabbed my wrist.

“Hey, you okay?”

Ugh, he’s so perfect. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine but he’s being so weird, right?” Right?!

“He is. He’s been kinda weird for a couple weeks, even with me. But uh… Good luck in there, missed you around here.” He released his hold on my wrist and chuckled. Traitor!

My possible friendship with Josh was tenuous at best, but I was considering a forever type of silent treatment after this betrayal. I sucked a few deep breaths into my lungs before I walked into the house, and when I made it to the kitchen, Jake was leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. He hadn’t even pulled any snacks out. He lifted his eyes to me as I walked in, and did that flippy thing with the hair that always flopped over them.

“What’s up Biebs?” He hated that (he and Sam both did, it was great), and I knew he hated that, but he was getting on my nerves with his attention, with his demands. I could see the hate written all over his face, but I crossed the kitchen and leaned into the counter across from him. Then I matched his wide-legged stance, crossed my arms, and scowled. We stared at each other for a beat, my underarms started to sweat before he responded. 

“Where have you been the last few weekends?”

What do you mean he’d noticed I hadn’t been here? Was he for real?

“Uhh, I’ve been around, I guess. What do you care?”

“You avoiding us, Tiny?” He adjusted his stance, straightening up to his full height (a whopping half inch taller than me - what is it with these guys?) but kept his arms across his chest. His hair had fallen back into his eyes and he flipped it away, and I just stared at him in silence. “Something happen the last time you were here?”

What do you know, dickhead?

“Like what, Jacob?” I smoothed out the scowl from between my eyebrows and batted my lashes at him. I’m so innocent! He did not like it. His arms dropped to his sides and he pushed himself away from the counter. In less than a second he was standing right in front of me. In a fraction of that, he had leaned in close, the tip of his nose nearly touching mine. I tried to back away, arching my back over the edge of the counter, but he moved in further.

Now my back was sweating.

“Did you fool around with my brother?”

Jesus. His question breezed over my lips and his words shot straight to my gut. It wasn’t like the soft caress of Josh’s voice asking what I was doing when I’d been begging him to kiss me. This wasn’t like that at all. 

“Uh-“ Yeah yeah, I had to clear my throat. I think I stopped breathing. “Who? Sammy? Gross, dude.”

Deflect! Deflect!

“Did you fuck Josh, T?”

WHAT?!

I pushed him away from me. I couldn’t breathe!

“What the hell are you talking about, Jake? Of course I didn’t… do that!” I’d never done that, with anyone, had he lost his mind?

“Then why is he acting so weird? And why haven’t you been here since that night?” He really seemed surprised that I hadn’t fu- had sex with Josh on the couch in the garage. What kind of girl did he take me for?

“Ask him yourself, asshole!”

“I did! Multiple times! He won’t say shit and says you guys are just friends, but that doesn’t explain why you’ve been too chicken-shit to show your face!”

Why was he so close to me again? I put a palm squarely in the middle of his chest, ready to push his ass to the floor if I had to, but he wrapped his fingers around my wrist and squeezed. Kinda hard.

“My own brother won’t tell me the truth and it’s your fault.” He pushed my hand back into my own chest. “What did you do to him?”

I was truly at a loss for words, so I uttered a few that I honestly had never said to anyone before. Not even Sam.

“Fuck you, Jake.”

But he didn’t even move! His face sort of twisted up, like he was confused, but I don’t think I could have been any more clear.

“Grow up, Tiny.”

Ugh, when did he learn how to push all my buttons? “You grow up, and mind your own business you creep. What, are you jealous I kissed Josh and not you?”

You should’ve seen it, seriously. You had to be there. He sprung away from me like I’d electrocuted him. 

“You are! Oh this is hilarious, you’re jealous.” I had to say it, the look on his face was a mixture of disgust and embarrassment. I couldn’t believe it. “Do you like me Jake? Huh? You wanna kiss me Jake?”

There’s no excuse for that one. I still don’t know why I said it. But then, ohhhh then, he rushed back into my space, wrapped both hands around the base of my skull, and slammed his lips against mine.

See? Luckiest girl on earth.

A lot of things happened in a span of a very few seconds. 

The weight of his body pushed me into the counter pretty hard, but I barely registered the pain. My first reaction was obviously shock, confusion, but it quickly turned into acceptance and my lips went from stiff against his to soft and welcoming.

Yep. I kissed him back.

My hands flew up and wrapped around his wrists, and he actually gripped my hair. I gasped into the kiss and he slipped his tongue into my mouth. He groaned, I moaned and-

“Seriously?!”

We bounced apart like the opposite poles of two magnets. Jake didn’t stop moving backwards until he hit the counter across from me.

“This is seriously fucked up, guys.” Sam stood in the doorway of the kitchen, eyes red and unfocused, but they landed on me. “Go home, T. I shouldn’t have even asked you to come here.”

Before I could argue or even get upset with him, he turned out of the room and was gone.

I was confused. Very confused. My heart was still beating erratically in my chest and my breaths didn’t feel right either. Of all the people on the planet, I had to look to Jake effing Kiszka for help.

“Jake…” My voice came out small, weak.

For a minute, he just shook his head. My vision went a little blurry.

I am not going to cry in front of another one of these idiots!

“Jake.” Stronger that time, better. “Why did you do that?”

“Why did you?”

“You kissed me first! I-“

“You liked it.”

No, no I did not. I loved it. There was enough potential that I could’ve been smitten with it.

“You’re disgusting.” As I found my voice, I also found some anger. That anger coerced my feet into action, and I found myself toe to toe with him again. I pushed a finger right into his chest, for good measure. “Don’t ever-“

I learned a few things that night. One thing was that Jake was a really terrible listener. 

He didn’t grab me again, he didn’t crowd me or slam his mouth to mine. He just leaned forward and let his lips hover over mine. That shut me up real quick. 

“You sure, T?” Ugh, he whispered. And it was sexy, and seductive.

Another thing I learned that night was that Jake was a real prick.

Because he whispered those words across my lips, wrapped his hands around my upper arms and spun us around, backed me into the counter…

And walked away.

With all that being said, that might have been the night I started falling for Jake Kiszka. But I don’t really remember.

Sam didn’t speak a word to me for six days.

He was really mad at me! Or at least I figured he was, since he sent me away and said I never should have been there to begin with. And he ignored all my texts. And calls. Shit, I even emailed him once.

I passed him in the halls at school all week, tried to catch his attention from a distance, watched him purposefully look past me, or through me each time.

I had really fucked up.

On the seventh day, he gave it a rest. A full week since incident #2, he texted me. 

sammy: I’m sorry too

That was it. I had apologized a hundred unanswered times, pleaded with him to just talk to me, for a week. After so much silent treatment, I didn’t really know how to address it.

Me: my dad wants me to stay with him for the summer

That was true. My dad always wanted me to stay with him for the summer, but I usually chose to stay home and traded out the other, shorter holiday breaks with him. I hadn’t seriously been considering it, until incident #2.

sammy: In Traverse? Are you gonna go?

Me: yeah. 

What did you expect me to say? I needed to get out of the bubble that was our town and away from all the testosterone. Granted, Traverse City is only like three hours away, but that was pretty far for a kid with no license.

Sam didn’t text me back. I was glad I was leaving.

School let out for the summer and my dad picked me up that weekend. Traverse City isn’t all that different from home, aside from triple the population. There’s plenty to do outdoors - beaches and trails - but my dad didn’t exactly provide the same kind of company as Sam. 

When you’re running free with your best friend, the break never seems long enough. This was the longest summer I could remember, but by early July Sam and I were back on regular speaking terms. We texted all the time, and eventually accepted each other’s apologies. 

But after not hearing from him at all before I left town, the first time he reached out was not all that fun.

sammy: Can I ask you a question 

Me: shoot

sammy: Why did it have to be my brothers?

Me: …

Me: what do you mean

sammy: You could make out with ANYONE else

sammy: Why them?

So Josh did tell him something. 

Me: Josh told you we kissed?

sammy: That’s not an answer.

The truth? You know the truth. I started crushing on Josh sometime between his bare chest at Fischer Hall and the skintight jeans with the peace sign patch on the ass that he started wearing later that summer. 

But I still didn’t know what the hell had happened with Jake.

Me: i already said i was sorry sam. I. AM. SORRY. 

Me: i really did like josh… he doesn’t like me back

Me: but i DID NOT KISS JAKE!!! He kissed ME and i have no clue why

Me: I DO NOT LIKE HIM, I HATE HIM

Look, I rarely lied to Sam. I had no reason to. But that text? That was a big fat lie.

How could I tell him that not only did I not hate Jake, I liked kissing Jake. I wanted to kiss Jake again. I wanted to learn how he did it, what his moves were, what made him-

No. Couldn’t tell baby brother all that. So I lied, and I avoided at all costs. 

Back to the best of friends by August, Sam was waiting in my driveway the day my dad dropped me off. We spent the last week of the summer attached at the hip again, but I didn’t step foot in his house for a very long time.

The Friday after my eighteenth birthday, Sammy threw me a party. That I didn’t ask for.

I rarely hung out with him at his own house anymore, and if I did it was only when I knew for certain that Jake wasn’t home. 

Josh and I had developed a sort of friendly relationship over the last couple years, stemming from a run-in at a movie theater. I was on a date (it went terribly), Josh was on a date (I asked him about it later and yes, that guy liked him back!), we fumbled awkwardly through hellos and introductions. He told me he missed seeing me around.

Those five words were enough to convince me that it would be okay to go to the house if he was there.

But not Jake. Never Jake.

So imagine my utter shock and horror when I knocked twice on the garage door, slipped underneath it, and found the room packed full of people.

“SURPRISE!!!”

Fuck me, right? No one likes surprise parties. I particularly hate them. Especially when I’m standing there like an idiot, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, taking in an unexpected mass of people and my stupid eyes lock on Jake stupid Kiszka.

And he smirked. Asshole.

“I’m not ready to leave you.”

Despite the garage full of our friends, I still ended up on Sam’s lap in the ugly chair, a little buzzed and kind of weepy. I tucked my face into his shoulder.

Don’t judge me. I’d already done a few hours worth of dancing, laughing and drinking. And avoiding the proverbial elephant in the room. It was exhausting. 

He shrugged off my concerns. “When I’m famous, you can just drop out and come on tour with us.” He raised his beer up to me, so I tapped mine against it. Cheers to adulthood, I guess. 

“You better get famous, you dick. Or even better, fail miserably and come live in Ann Arbor with me.”

In a month, I was graduating. It's not like I was leaving for college right away, but the reality of being eighteen was weighing on me. Sam’s reality was even heavier.

The fucking band was getting noticed. Being seen. What was I gonna do if they took off, if he left me and Michigan behind?

“Cheer up, T. This is supposed to be a party.” He squeezed me with the arm wrapped around my waist.

“Yeah yeah. I’m fine… I’m just gonna miss you.”

He was really great sometimes, my best friend. He reached down and sat his beer on the floor, then wrapped both arms around me. “I’ll miss you too, you know that.”

I let my eyes close for a minute and just enjoyed it, then sighed heavily against his neck. “Okay, sorry for the pity party. Let me up, I gotta pee.”

A few people were lingering in the kitchen when I made it into the house, they all raised their drinks and yelled happy birthday as I passed through. In the upstairs bathroom, I could hear when they filtered back outside, the house falling silent. I gave myself a little pep talk in the mirror before I left.

Get it together, woman. Have a good time, enjoy the fucking summer. Grow. Up.

Good talk, I know. 

When I hit the bottom of the stairs, I heard the refrigerator open. As I turned into the kitchen, someone was still standing there, hidden by the door.

But I knew who it was.

The fridge door swung closed and there he was. And we were alone. 

Not this shit again.

I wasn’t gonna do it, I wasn’t gonna do anything. I swear. But I kept moving to pass him and leave the room, and he stuck an arm out and stopped me in my tracks. 

“Just let me go, Jake.” See? I had zero interest in this! I didn’t even look at him. Ya know, until he physically turned my body to face him. He had the nerve to smile.

“Happy birthday, T.” Thank God he didn’t whisper it, he was so good at whispering.

“Yeah, thanks. See ya.” I tried to leave again, but he put both hands on me and kept me facing him, toe to toe. Another showdown in the Kiszka kitchen.

“Don’t be like that.”

Oh, how I hated him in that moment. Everything came back, the confusion, the anger I felt the last time we’d been here. When he basically accused me of being a slut right before accusing me of wanting him. And being right about it.

I shook his hands off my arms and took a step back. “No. No, I’m not doing this again.” I turned to leave again, and he caught me by the wrist.

“What are you talk-“

“Stop! Don’t pretend you don’t know!”

“Tiny, I really-“

“Don’t call me that, and don’t act like you don’t know exactly why I have avoided you for two fucking years.”

Maybe it was my expression, or maybe it was the tone of my voice, I’ll never know but he dropped my wrist and actually managed to look guilty.

“Exactly. Bye, Jake.”

I made it to the doorway. If I had just been moving faster, I would’ve missed it and probably never experienced what happened next.

“I’m sorry.”

There’s no way I’d heard that right. It spun me around where I stood.

“What?”

“I said I’m sorry, about that night.”

I waited for the ground to open up and swallow us, or a meteor to blast through the ceiling. Surely the world was ending. Nothing happened.

“Really. What exactly are you sorry for, hm? Why exactly do you think I hate you?”

“You hate me?” I’m sure you can imagine, but yes, he had the audacity to look surprised by that information. It pissed me off.

“Get real, Jake.” I moved closer. “Get fucking real. Tell me what you’re apologizing for, go ahead. What part of that night are you sorry for?” By the time I was done, I was all up in his space and he looked uncomfortable.

Good.

“I’m sorry I accused you of sleeping with Josh.”

The big bad anger deflated, but only a little. I really hadn’t expected him to acknowledge that.

“You accused a sixteen year old virgin of fucking your brother on a dirty couch in your garage.” He literally cringed. I get it, it sounded bad. Because it was.

“That was really shitty of me-“

“You think?!”

“Let me finish,” His hands were on me again, wrapped around my upper arms. “Please.”

All I could do was nod. That please is what did it. He really seemed to feel bad, and I was believing it.

“I said that out of anger, T. I knew something happened out there, and Josh was all fucked up about it after. He wouldn’t talk to me, and he tells me everything.” My shoulders shook with the force of that word. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

My mind was reeling, grasping for the meaning he intended. I shook my head.

“We’re twins, we don’t have secrets. I thought you either forced him to do something he didn’t want to, or you… were mean to him. Judged him.”

It dawned on me, clear as day. 

“You knew.” 

He tipped his chin and nodded, just once. 

“I don’t- then what about the rest? I called you jealous, but it had nothing to do with that. But you were!”

He nodded again. My resolve crumbled.

“Why did you kiss me?” I whispered it, but I wasn’t trying to be sexy, or seductive.

“Because I was jealous. And I wanted to.”

Gulp.

“I’m really sorry that I hurt your feelings. I never wanted you to hate me.”

“What did you want?”

As you can imagine, that question sealed my fate.

“Just you.”

My back was against the refrigerator before he even finished breathing the words. This time, there was no moment of shock, I wasn’t confused, and my lips were not stiff. 

His hands slid up my arms and into my hair, and he tilted my head. My mouth opened for him, and I gripped the front of his t-shirt for dear life.

Remember when I told you that by sixteen, I had kissed plenty? That was true. By eighteen, I’d kissed plenty more.

But this kiss was going to ruin me, and I knew it.

He let a hand slip from my hair and ran it down the length of my body, past my shoulder, over my ribs and the small of my waist, then he tucked it between me and the fridge and flattened it to my lower back. And pulled my hips into his.

Oh my god. He did want me, I could feel the evidence of that pressed against me.

“Jake.” I broke the kiss but his lips kept moving, he tilted my head further and ran kisses over my cheek, my jaw. “Jake.”

“Mm?” His hips ground into mine, he didn’t take his lips off of me. 

“What- fuck, what are we doing?” My hands flattened against his chest and pushed, just a little, and he finally lifted his face.

His breath was coming quickly, I could feel it under my palms. “What do you wanna do, T?”

My brain raced toward an answer, past all the reasons we shouldn’t do what I wanted to do. There’s still a party going on in the garage, Sam is waiting there for me to come back from the bathroom, this is a bad idea, this is Jake, Sam may never forgive me for this.

“Can we- should we… go somewhere else?” Yeah, that’s what my brain landed on.

“You sure?” The memory of that same question, two years ago, rushed in and I knew that if he walked away from me this time, I would never get over it.

“I’m sure.”

He didn’t stop to reconsider or question my decision, just took my hand and led me back to the stairs. We rushed to the second floor, not leaving time to second guess or re-evaluate. He practically dragged me into his room, slammed the door behind us and locked it.

I didn’t bother looking around, it was dark anyway but I didn’t want to think too hard about what was happening. I just let him push me towards a bed and fell into it. He tore his shirt over his head and covered my body and mouth with his. 

My legs opened and he settled between them, immediately grinding into me. This was happening, and it was happening fast. Our mouths were securely attached, so I wriggled beneath him, tugging the hem of my shirt up. As soon as he caught on to what I was doing he took over the task, sliding a hand up under my shirt and touching my bare skin for the first time. 

“Fucking hell, T.” God, his voice was ragged, he was literally panting as he leaned back to use both hands, spreading his palms over my stomach, my ribcage, skimming over the sides of my breasts and up until my shirt was over my head and thrown to the floor.

For a minute we just stared at each other, our heavy breathing the only sound in the room. 

He had changed so little and so much in the last two years. Physically, his hair had grown long, hanging to his shoulders instead of flipping across his forehead. His cockiness had transformed into confidence, and his actions up to this moment had been firm and self-assured. As we took each other in, I wondered what changes he saw in me.

Did he see a woman that night, pinned to his mattress by his eyes? At sixteen, I’d tried so hard to convince all of them that I was grown - could he see the ways that I had?

“You’re so fucking hot.” Okay, yeah it wasn’t poetry or anything, but his words pulsed through my bloodstream and settled between my thighs. Something like a whine slipped from the back of my throat, and suddenly we were moving in fast motion. He covered me again, but his kiss landed on my jaw, then below my ear, then the base of my throat. As it passed my collarbone I tangled my hands into his hair. He’d propped himself up on an elbow and the other hand slid up my ribs again then covered my breast.

I wish I could remember what my bra even looked like that night, but it hadn’t seemed like he cared.

He squeezed me softly, I moaned, he squeezed harder. Then his fingers tugged the top of the cup down, and for the first time, a part of me was truly naked in front of Jake Kiszka.

There was only a fleeting moment where he lifted his head and looked at my chest, bared to him, my nipple already hard and aching for his attention - then he dropped his mouth over it and sucked it in.

My back arched off the bed and he sucked me in deeper, his tongue swirling around my nipple before he softly put his teeth on it.

“Yes.” I hardly recognized my own voice, but he must have recognized the need or the urgency in it, because he applied just a tiny bit of pressure, and bit me. “Yes!”

His head popped up and his eyes met mine. “Fuck, you liked that?”

Was that weird? Was I not supposed to? I didn’t know what to say, so I nodded. It prompted him to pull the other side of my bra down and treat my other nipple to the same affection, so I guessed it was the right answer.

We were writhing together, friction between our hips and my hands holding his head to my chest until I couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Jake, kiss me, please…”

Somewhere along the line, he’d become a better listener. His lips slotted over mine and he kissed me deeply, I felt it everywhere. Until his hand started fumbling with the button of my jeans. It popped open and he slid the zipper down. Just as his fingers danced over the edge of my underwear, he paused. 

Against my mouth he whispered, “Yes?”

I nodded frantically, breaking the kiss.

“Say it, T.”

“Yes.”

Fingers slid over cotton and tucked themselves between my legs, and my entire body shuddered. He dropped his gaze to where he was touching me as he pressed them into me and slid them up my center, catching on my clit. I jolted at the contact. 

“Jesus Christ.”

Had I surprised him? Done something wrong? Why was he pulling his hand away- oh.

His hand slipped out of my jeans only long enough to slide under the waist of my panties, then it disappeared inside them. 

Jake Kiszka had his fingers on my actual, bare-

You get it.

Again, they pressed into me and then through me, I could feel the way my body offered no resistance, slick and easy. 

“You- you’re so…” His voice trailed off, but I needed to know. What was I? What was he thinking?

“What, Jake?” I sounded breathy, my voice coming out shaky and quiet. He looked up into my eyes.

“You’re so wet.” He sounded stunned, awe lacing his tone. 

My throat closed, I swallowed hard. Embarrassment made my chest hot and I opened my mouth to say something. I’m sorry? But my mouth snapped shut because he moved his fingers through the wetness again and groaned, deep and low, before tracing up to my clit again and circling it.

He continued to watch my face, I think. I’m not sure, because my eyes slammed shut as my body bowed into the feeling, but it seemed like he was watching all of my reactions closely. I’m sure he saw my face drop when his fingers left my clit, only to see my jaw fall open when one moved lower and pushed inside me slowly.

Inside. Me. My eyes shot open and found him staring at me, nostrils flared. 

“Relax, T. You’re so tight.”

Was that bad? I pulled a deep breath into my lungs, in through my nose and out through trembling lips. Tried my hardest to relax every muscle, but I was wound so tight I felt like I would implode. 

I must have done something right, because his finger slid deeper and he murmured the worst thing I’d ever heard.

“That’s good, good girl.”

In hindsight, I know he wasn’t even trying to be sexy. But my body tightened around his finger again and he started to withdraw it. I panicked, gripped his wrist and dug my nails in just as he pushed all the way inside. 

“God!” I couldn’t help it, the invasion was overwhelming me.

“Shhh, I’ve got you.” He was pumping it inside me now. “Tell me what you want.” Focus made his features look so serious, but his voice was calm and coaxing. I had no fucking clue what to say.

So I said the first thing that popped into my head.

“More.” He smiled, his mouth curling up at the corners. I felt him withdraw his finger all the way, gasped as he swirled two over my clit, then entered me again with both. 

“Jesus, you’re so tight, you feel so good.”

So good, so good. That’s good. I let myself relax into his touch and within a few seconds my hips were moving in time with his fingers. My bottom lip was held tight between my teeth as I tried not to let any of the sounds building in my throat escape. He noticed.

His face came close, he pecked a kiss to my cheek then whispered into my ear. “Let me hear you, just be quiet.” 

I really had no choice, because as soon as the words left his mouth, he pressed his thumb to my clit and plunged his fingers deep.

“Shit Jake, yes yes yes…”

Still next to my ear, he tucked his face into my neck and kissed me there before making his way back to my lips. His tongue swept out over my bottom lip and I opened to him, let him in. My eyes fluttered closed.

Then I felt it, a tightening, low in my belly. A tingling even lower. I don’t know what I did that signaled to him, but he knew.

“Are you gonna come for me?” He asked between kisses. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

I didn’t have to. All it took was a few more pumps of his fingers, a couple circles with his thumb, and I had my first orgasm. 

Trust me when I tell you, it was a doozy. 

My entire body tensed, my back arched and my mouth opened. Thank God I couldn’t hear myself over the buzz in my head because I’m sure the sound I made was mortifying, but it didn’t matter. As quickly as it had gripped me, it started to fade away. Things came back into focus and I felt Jake’s fingers softly moving in shallow strokes before they stopped and he pulled them from me. 

“Wow.”

Who said that? Oh, it was Jake. I peeked up at him and his eyes were wide, almost black in the darkness. Then he pulled his hand from my pants and stood up so quickly, I was sure I’d done something wrong. I shot up to sit and had barely planted my feet on the floor when I heard his belt buckle clink. The shuffle of his shoes across the carpet as he toed them off his feet. The soft swish of denim falling down his legs and hitting the floor, more shuffling and he stepped out of his jeans.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

I didn’t even have time to truly panic, because he stepped back up to the bed and leaned down, kissing me briefly on the lips before using his hands to guide me backwards, laying across his bed again. He reached for the waist of my pants and, already undone, started to slide them off of my hips. I let him pull them down my legs until they got stuck at my shoes. 

He chuckled. I giggled, nervously. He slipped my shoes off then tugged my jeans from my feet. I shifted and sat back up. 

And there I was. Looking at Jake Kiszka in nothing but his skivvies and socks, and myself wearing much of the same. Except my tits were out, the cups of my bra pushing them up from underneath. 

Jake must have sensed my nerves, because he asked me if I was still sure. I nodded and he demanded to hear it out loud. 

“Yes.”

He turned to his nightstand, rummaged blindly  through the drawer, and when he straightened he slipped his thumbs under the elastic waistband of his underwear.

Then they hit the floor.

And there I was. Looking at Jake Kiszka in nothing but his socks. 

My cheeks exploded with heat and I was grateful that he couldn’t see me blushing in the dark, but I must have made a face, or a noise, because he was poised to tear open the condom wrapper and he stopped. 

“Are you okay?”

Oh shit, what did I do?

“Um-“ Cleared my throat. “I- yeah. Yes. Sorry. I’ve just, never done this before.”

“Ha ha, T. For real, what’s wrong?”

Ha ha? I wasn’t laughing. 

“Nothing. It’s fine, I just haven’t ever…” It trailed off, because there was something wrong with the way he was looking at me. 

“Fuck. You gotta be kidding me.” Ouch. 

His arms dropped to his sides, condom packet still between the first two fingers of his left hand. He flicked it away, it skimmed the surface of the nightstand and fell behind it.

No, no no no. 

“What? What are you doing?” There it was, a little bit of that panic, finally allowed to bloom under my skin. He bent and stepped back into his boxer briefs and pulled them up. My own semi-nudity suddenly felt shameful, so I tugged the cups of my bra back up to cover my breasts. “Jake, I still want th-“

“No. I can’t, T. You’re still a virgin?” 

Was I crazy, because I hadn’t seen anything wrong with that before this exact moment? He stepped back into his jeans and started pulling them up.

I reached out to stop him, a hand on his wrist. “Yeah, but who cares? It’s not that big of-“

“I care!” He ripped his arms away from me, pulled his pants up and fastened them. He continued as he started plucking my own clothes from the floor and shoving them into my shaking arms. “I can’t do that, I can’t be your first. I can’t fucking believe this.”

The first tear slipped and ran down my cheek, and I swiped it away, frustrated. “You’re overreacting, Jake. Why are you-“

He cut me off again. “How could you not tell me? What if I, if I had- God.”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to!” I jerked my shirt over my head and shoved my arms through the sleeves. “Why would you think I wasn’t?!” Pulled my jeans over my feet and up my legs. 

“Because Sam told me!”

My fingers stopped buttoning my pants, my head jerked up. “What?!”

“Sam said he thought you were fucking that idiot you dated last year, when you weren’t coming around for like a month. He-“

“I’m gonna kill him. That’s it, I’m finally gonna actually kill him.” 

Jake threw his arms up. “What was I supposed to think, T? With the way you were kissing me, and- and- you weren’t acting like a virgin!”

“Because you still think I’m some kind of slut, Jake? Is that it? Oh my God I’m so stupid.” I fastened my jeans and pulled my shoes on, then shoulder checked him on my way to the door.

It felt good, okay?

He was right behind me, forgetting his shoes and pulling his shirt on as he followed me down the stairs, but I didn’t stop. I bolted through the kitchen and outside, then into the garage.

A lot of people had left and I found Sam immediately, strewn across one end of the couch. He was probably crossfaded and ready to pass out, but he popped up as soon as he saw my face. 

“Tiny, where have you been? What’s wrong-“ Jake stormed into the garage behind me, and even through hooded, bleary eyes, Sam put some pieces together. Or tried to.

I was trying desperately not to cry, and I’m sure I looked it. I could feel how kiss-swollen my lips were, and I guessed that Jake’s looked the same. Add in the fucked up bed hair, and then two tears that slipped free and ran down my face. 

“What the fuck did you do..”

But Sam wasn’t talking to me. He was looking past me.

“What did you do?!”

The few of our friends that were left lingering in the garage were all staring at us. 

“Party’s over! GET OUT!” I flinched. I’d never heard Sam yell, not in anger. Everyone jumped and hustled through the side door until we were alone, and Sam took one deep breath before speaking. 

“T, come here, are you okay?”

I didn’t move, just nodded my head and wiped furiously at my cheeks. “Yes, I’m fine, I- I just wanted to tell you I was leaving.” He came to me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. 

“What did you do?” I knew he was speaking to Jake, still standing silently behind me. 

“Sam, I don’t know what you’re thinking but-“

“Why is she fucking crying?”

I broke free of his hold and stopped him. “Sam, it’s okay. I’m fine, I swear. I’m going home.” I grabbed my bag from the floor beside the couch and flung it over my shoulder, lifted the garage door and slipped out.

I didn’t stop running until I reached my driveway.

[unlocked-doors-verse]

Origins: Character Headcanons + Lore Thoughts

Good timezone!

So, here's some added development to the AU! Of course, Mystery Kids is still happening but again, I have a lot of prompts to get through

For starters, the readers are not immediately introduced to all of the characters at once; this will be split in about 4-5 one-shots (certain characters will meet the others beforehand and then do a big meet toward the end- that is all i'm going to say for now). Part 1 is actively being worked on - ft. a cross between Danny Phantom and Miraculous Ladybug, but for now- I plan on focusing with character headcanons and some additional lore elements everyone can be privy too!

On one hand, we have Danny Phantom and Miraculous Ladybug where we have Danny Fenton, Adrien Agreste, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng - and their initial first meeting during Secret Origins

Danny Phantom / Miraculous Ladybug Headcanons

~ Out of the trio, Danny is the oldest; Adrien and Marinette are the youngest (there's a year of difference between them and Danny) [author's cut: I based this on when the respective shows came out. Danny Phantom aired in the early 2000's with Miraculous Ladybug getting released sometime in 2014/2015]

~ This isn't spoilers per se, but there's going to be a case of mistaken identity when Danny meets Adrien and Mari for the first time. The rest is spoilers, and I will leave you to try and figure it out! The only thing I'm going to say is that ghosts aren't a common thing in Paris-

~ This is set in an ambiguous timeline- the only thing I will say for certain is that Phantom Planet has yet to happen. A lot of the current canon for Miraculous Ladybug has been completely disregarded- partially because I never got past... I'd say season five? (and what I've heard about the newer seasons sounds like entering the Twilight Zone-)

~ Danny is auDHD because it just makes sense- (he has dual special interests on space and inventions; not to mention his ghostly obsession)

~ Adrien and Mari are definitely some breed of neurodivergent (autistic! Adrien, at least and I thought Mari is ADHD or something- this is canon now you can't tell me I'm wrong /lh)

~ Danny and his family end up in Paris, France during the summer due to reasons

~ so far, no identity reveals beyond the obvious have happened. For Danny, it only applies to Sam and Tucker; in Miraculous Ladybug, Mari isn't willing to share her identity with Adrien (this is done on purpose as this is still early into the character introductions)

~ this is no way a spoiler, but Adrien and Danny are so going to bond over puns and jokes- (and other reasons but shhh)

~ unresolved traumas? oh, absolutely- like on one hand, you have Danny who has definitely been going through the burner with protecting his own identity not from his enemies but his parents; Mari definitely has a savior complex and is so set on saving everyone, she barely puts herself first- and Adrien, my sweet summer child- how do I explain what this kid is going through when it comes to Gabriel fucking Agreste? (author's cut: Gabriel is not a good parent lol- I'm not doing a full meta-analysis on him but he doesn't really have Adrien's best interests at heart)

~ Adrien does try to see the best in everyone, but he is wearing down from certain things- i am not going to sugarcoat things, because this is going to a different level of mature and Adrien does try and cover how he feels

Lore Thoughts + Elements

~ As mentioned before, ghosts are not a common thing within Paris. Danny would be an outlier in the equation because this isn't something the citizens have seen before, and it might take some time for them to adjust further into the first arc of the SQ AU

~ If this somehow isn't obvious, Akuma attacks do not occur inside Amity Park (as for one thing, Hawk Moth has never once stepped foot inside the city and for another- ghosts and Kwamis do not mix, it's just not possible)

~ however, citizens from Amity Park can be Akumatized should they leave or if, say, somehow- they were brought into the city but for now, do what you will with this information. Good luck

~ (implied plot elements) "In the purple smoke lies what you hold most dear; to undo what has been done, break the cycle and rewind the masked's design". (author's cut: i'm sure you can figure this one out, but honestly there is so much more coming, so keep an eye out!)

~ Secret Origins Lore / Teen Heroes AU (the name is still subject to change): as mentioned before, there will be about 4-5 one-shots before the main story releases- this may have a little bit of major plot arcs so read at your own discretion - due to the overlapping themes within the four fandoms, there are multiple sectors throughout the world that are specifically for the current growing number of teen superheroes (author's cut: the Dragon Council, for instance- among others, take with this what you will. of course there's more to come)

~ since this is only the first in the Secret Origins background- character introductions are fairly limited; and honestly, I was going to use one of the specials to push forth the lore but ultimately, I scrapped that version (but I could rewrite the version of events that could have happened: especially since I had tied it back to the New York special-) though the alternate version aside, going back to the introductions- the point is for the sectors to slowly become part of... well, let's just say that certain alliances within this piece are going to be only one part of what's to come-

(Author's Cut: As of right now, this project continues to remain a Work in Progress and of course, I'm trying to limit myself with the spoilers- currently the early stages of the Miraculous Ladybug x Danny Phantom fanfic are being worked on, and I am considering writing a small snippet of it! Without spoilers, of course!

You’re going to see a lot more for this and the Unlocked Doors AU soon. These poor kids are definitely going to through it.)

~ Mod Danny

[yetanothergreyjedi]

Left and Returned: Definitely Nothing Wrong

Danny Phantom x Supernatural Crossover

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 part 6

Ao3 (includes additional notes)

Chapter 7: Bleed the Same Light

Dean wasn't going to dwell on the chick flick stuff. They got the kid home. They stayed until it was awkward again. They went back to hunting. They spent a week unraveling a spell of a Mesopotamian goddess, revealed some creeps,  and hopefully prevented a childhood of bullying. 

They'd established that Sam sees nothing wrong with using demon controlling powers for exorcisms and that nothing Dean can say will change his mind. This is partially because Dean can't articulate why the fact that something demonic should in itself be a red flag. He didn't think he'd ever need to explain that, but here they were. The argument hung over their heads, waiting to be revived when either of them had something to elaborate on, this wasn't that unusual for them, if Dean was being honest.

For now, they're hustling pool, also like usual.

And it was going well, they were about to get five hundred off this guy and—

"Keep the money." Sam tells the man, already walking to the other side of the room. They were about to take 500 dollars?! That was a hunt or two's worth of supplies.

"Keep the money? What—" Dean follows his brother's path. There's a woman by the windows and Dean can tell immediately that something is off about her. Off enough that maybe they can scrounge enough cash to hustle someone else later.

"What is it?" Sam asks her.

"I just have some info, and then I'm gone."

"Okay." Dean frowns. Sam didn't mention an informant of any kind, but it also hadn't come up and there was plenty to cover of the past year. It didn't explain… Dean hated it, hated the word that Danny had so neatly infected into his vocabulary. Her vibe was awful.

"Girl named Anna Milton escaped from a locked ward yesterday. The demons seem pretty keen on finding her." 

Demons?! Okay, who is this chick and why would she have the inside scoop of— oh. "Ruby?!"

"Hi Dean,” It's like flipping a switch, how she goes from conspiratorial to mocking. “How was it down there?"

He doesn't dignify that with any response more than a glare. Sam stays on topic.

"And who is she?"

"No idea…” Ruby turns back to Sam. “But I'm thinking that she's important, 'cause the order is to capture her alive. Thought you might want to find her first."

"Dean?"

"Sam?"

"What do you think?"  Oh... okay, so Sammy was gonna let him make the call. Weird. And really not what he was expecting after the fight about demon controlling powers.

"Why bring this to us." He asked the thing wearing a girl.

"I brought it to Sam."

"Because you want him to use more freaky demon magic." She glared.

"I'm just delivering the news. You can do whatever you want with it."

Dean sighed. He was going to regret this.

---

Trickery, disguises, and emphasizing the right words at the right time, gets them the girls sketchbook.

The sketchbook told them they were dealing with something very real. Broken seals and familiar symbols, their names repeated again and again in a fervent skrall that covered pages, the word ‘inevitable’ in oddly neat letters under a pocket watch, only tiny pieces of the book made sense. But the little sense it did make was very real and very terrifying.

Her home had been invaded but the church she grew up in seemed firmly in-tact.

It was their only guess. And they were right.

"Anna? We're not gonna hurt you." They lower their weapons. "We're here to help. My name is Sam. This is my brother, Dean."

"Sam? Not Sam Winchester?"

"Uh, yeah."

"And you're Dean. The Dean?"

"Sure. The Dean, I guess." This was weird.

"It's really you. Oh, my god. The angels talk about you. You were in Hell, but Castiel pulled you out, and—" she rambles, telling them about themselves as if they didn't live it... or maybe just, assuring herself it's not imaginary?

They ask their questions. She answers, she hears them, doesn't talk to them, she's just tuned into the angel messaging radio frequency like he's tuned into the weird vibe thing. And it all started the day he dug himself from his coffin.

"First words I heard, clear as a bell -- 'Dean Winchester is saved." What does it say that he hates how she says it, quotes it really— like its capital S saved, like its missionaries knocking at your door saved; but what other way is there to put it when you pull someone out of capital h Hell?

There's not time to dwell on it. Because either the church's attic doesn't count for some reason or Ruby is apparently strong enough to tread on holy ground.

"You got the girl. Good, let's go."

"Her face!" Anna shrieks, and Dean remembers how her true form looked.

"Yeah, she's an ugly mother—"

"We have to hurry."

"Why?" Seriously, this whole trip has been pretty casual for someone the demon's want so bad.

"Because a heavy hitter's on his way, that's why."

"Conveniently right after you showed up, huh?"

"He followed you from her house." Says the one who just happened to get here first anyway. "We go now ."

"Dean," he follows Sam's gaze. A decorative statue cries bloodly tears.

"Too late." Ruby growls.

She's right.

In the next minute, Anna is shoved in a closet, Sam fails to use the magic exorcism that Ruby had insisted on and instead gets thrown across the room. Dean tries to stab the demon. He's disarmed. The demon introduces himself. Alastair, the only bastard Dean wants dead more than Lilith, taunts him as Sam lands a hit with the blade Dean dropped. But it's not a killing blow, Ruby's gone and the closet is open, Alistair grins as he pulls their best weapon free from his shoulder, the only escape is to shatter through an attic window.

---

They're in pain but they're alive. They stitch flesh back together and force joints back into sockets. And Dean acknowledges to himself that while Sam hasn't told him everything about his time while Dean was in the grave, he's been good about bringing things up when they're relevant.

He sighs. "I remember Hell."

"Dean," Sammy's startled, and that's fair given he hasn't exactly given context.

"I never forgot it. I just..."

Sam nods. "What is it?"

"I know Alistair. We need to find Anna."

"She's with Ruby."

"Great! So she might as well be handed over already."

"I don't think so."

"You don't."

"She's had opportunities to betray us before."

"She's a demon."

"And that means she can't change?!"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

"She's a demon!"

"Fright Night changed. And I'm sure Danny knows others."

"And Fright Night went back!"

"So that means everyone else will?"

"And how do you know we can trust him?" Dean points out, because it's very easy to get caught up when the kid is around, and— “We don't actually know what Jack Montgomery is doing. We don't even know that the Coconut Vampires were even real! All we know, right now, is that Danny's philosophy means you're comfortable leaving a helpless girl with a demon!”

“A demon who hasn't ever done anything to hurt us! Look at what she's, done Dean, not what she is.”

“and all of this is coming from him, and he's not human!"

Sam flinches. And Dean abruptly remembers Sam talking about a DNA test.

"Sammy, I didn't mean..." He meant that leniency towards monsters might get people killed. He meant that Danny was more than a little biased. But he cant say it, he watched a cloud of darkness curl and wither as the kid ran it through. 

There's a knock at the door. Ruby, as housekeeping, tells them their next location. They go. They don't continue their discussion in the car.

---

Ruby is at the door when they arrive at the address she gave. "Glad you could make it."

"Yeah, thanks, " Sam walks into the old house. "Anna, are you okay?"

"Yeah. I think so. Ruby's not like other demons. She saved my life."

Dean frowns, but doesn't refute it. "Yeah, I hear she does that..."

He glances at the demon, he can't help but wonder who's face she wears. But there's not time for that yet, Ruby asks about the knife, Anna asks about her parents and they have to inform them that both are gone. So they get to deal with fury and grief (respectively) until there's a knock at the door.

Angels, of course the angels were getting involved now . "Please tell me you're here to help." Dean didn't quite beg. "We've been having demon issues all day."

"Well, I can see that." Uriel glares at Ruby. "You want to explain why you have that stain in the room?"

"We're here for Anna." Castiel ignores his coworker.

"Here for her like... here for her?" Dean checks, because the last time he spoke to them they talked about obliterating a city.

"Stop talking. Give her to us."

"Are you gonna help her?" Sam demands, mimicking Uriel's posture.

"No," Castiel tells them. "She has to die."

Dean sighs.

"You want Anna? Why?" Sam demands again, it doesn't do much better than the first time.

Uriel pushes him to the side. "Out of the way."

Dean has to scramble to keep someone in  between them. "Whoa, whoa. Okay, I know she's wiretapping your angel chats or whatever, but it's no reason to gank her!"

"Don't worry. I'll kill her gentle." Uriel tells him. You know what, maybe Ruby isn't so bad, forget that she's down to sacrifice virgins whenever.

"You're some heartless sons of bitches, you know that?"

"We do not have mothers," Castiel informs, "but the sentiment may be correct."

"And? Anna's an innocent girl." Sam asks, still disbelieving, still hurt that these are angels.

"She is far from innocent."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Uriel explains. "She's worse than this abomination you've been screwing. Now give us the girl."

"Sorry." Dean snarks, wondering if Jazz is also a monster or if Uriel has drastically misread the situation. "Get yourself another one. Try JDate."

"Who's gonna stop us? You two? Or this demon whore?" Uriel throws Ruby against the wall in a move eerily similar to how the demons do it. Either he's going for irony or... or Dean will finish that thought when he has time for it.

He lunges for Uriel, surprising them both when he knocks him to the ground. His punch connects, but this is probably what punching superman is like! OW!

Then in a flash of painful pull Uriel is gone. Dean's head throbs as he whips his head to see— Castiel is gone too. Sam is laying on the ground, out cold, and Ruby kneels to help him. Anna steps out of the other room, dripping with blood.

"Anna! are you..." he trails off, seeing the sigils she's drawn in blood on the old cracked mirror. They're not like Danny's, they're like the ones in her sketchbook.

"Are they -- are they gone?"

"Did you... kill them?" That would be cool, terrifying too, but also very cool.

"No. I sent them away... far away."

"You want to tell me how?" It would be very useful if they end up in another city that's an acceptable loss.

"That just popped in my head. I don't know how I did it. I just did it."

"Angel frequency?" Dean asked, because what else could it be?

"I don't know, maybe?"

Dean sighed, but the fear in her eyes was real. "Right, well, lets get you patched up. We've got bandages in the impala."

"We need to get out of here." Ruby added, and she was right, the angel's might've been sent to the outfield but they'd definitely be back.

---

Ruby slumps to the ground as she crosses the FentonWorks 'employees only' door , well her body does, the dark angry cloud that is actually Ruby swirls in violent circles. Dean crosses the threshold to get away from her storm.

"Demon?" Danny asks, checking the girl on the ground's pulse, then he frowns.

"Yeah, the body's a Jane Doe, a coma patient, the hospital was going to pull the plug..." Sam explained. "Ruby said the spirit had left?"

"She's right." Danny told them. Dean wavered, unsure whether to trust this information. But if it was true... maybe he's been a little unfair?

Danny flips a wall switch that doesn't appear to do anything? Ruby the cloud rushes back into Ruby the human. He flips the switch back on after she crosses. "Ethically sourced physically form. I appreciate the effort."

"Glad someone does," She sits up.

"Flip the switch before and after you cross, I'll key it to your signature so it won't zap you."

"So the switch... makes the place demon proof?" Dean asks.

"The barrier." Sam corrects, pressing his hand against something solid in the middle of an empty doorway. "It's kinda hard to interact with, I barely notice it."

Dean waves his hand through the air where Sam's clearly touching something. There isn't anything there?

"I thought it was the lights." Ruby complains.

"That's kinda the point. Ecto-sheild blocks any ectoplasmic entity that isn't tethered to its form. It works better when people don't know its there." Danny tells them. "Should work against the angel's too. Regardless of if their host consented or not. If they really want the angel in their body they can scoot back out."

"How do you know the angel's aren't..." what was the word he'd used? "Tethered?"

"Cause you shot and stabbed Castiel. If he was fully utilizing his flesh he'd feel it, regardless of healing abilities. Guy didn't even flinch."

"Huh,"

Anna waved her hands through the doorway before crossing. "It tingles."

Danny tipped his head at her. "It does?"

"Yeah, like when a limb falls asleep but..." she holds her hand to her heart, "but here..."

"That's... can I ask a weird question?"

"I mean, my whole life has gone weird, what's one more thing?

"Have you ever died?"

"Um, no? I don't think so...?"

" Huh ."

"Is that a problem?"

"No, not at all! I just don't usually see humans have a reaction to the shield without ectoplasmic exposure. Most commonly, it’s brushes with death. Plenty of other stuff could cause it though, we don't have to make it an interrogation."

"Oh, okay..."

"Please, make yourself at home, go upstairs, nap in a guestroom, raid the fridge. Whatever makes you comfortable. We're going to figure this out."

---

Sam and Dean left to search up some background. They were apparently worried about some spell she casted to banish angels. They're right that something like that would be robust magic, but Danny’s less concerned. Anna's aura reads clear to him. Ruby's on the other hand is like trying to dig a pebble out of a mud pit filled with teeth.

When Anna's settled he asks the demon. "Can I get a blood sample?"

"What?"

"A sample of your blood, for testing. We've tried some substitutes for Sam and they're never quite right. Having an actual sample would be helpful."

She blinks at him.

"You're not going to try to stop him?"

"He's tried to stop. It almost killed him. I'm mostly worried about the human element."

"And what does that mean?"

"If you’re not around to donate, and don't say you will be, we both know you can't control that with the price you've admitted is on your head. Current stuff is okay, but it won't cut it long term and that sort of hunting…” Danny shudders, he was very glad they'd worked out the ghost hunger stuff. 

"How much has Sam told you."

"I don't know how much there is to tell. I know about the blood stuff, about Lilith, about how everyone's panicked about your loyalties."

"But you're not? Even though I'm a demon ?"

"You're an ectoplasmic entity, ectoplasm is malleable. What separates you from countless other entities are traits derived from nature, and nature is made up of by choices. If you think you're defined by it, then you will be. But if you don't want to be a demon, then stop being one."

She scoffs, "If it were that simple—"

"It's not."

"What?"

"It's not simple. It will be the most difficult thing you've ever done, and it will probably take a century or three." Danny smiles at her. She was standing on the same crossroads Fright had long before Danny had existed. Danny wonders if anyone had tried to help him then, if any of those people were still around. “From what I understand, you've made a good start. Just keep making good choices, and keep ignoring everyone who says it's impossible."

Danny doesn't know what to make of the look on her face, she holds his gaze for far longer than he's really comfortable with but he doesn't look away until she finds whatever she's looking for.

"So a blood sample?"

---

"We're back!" Dean announces at the base of the stairs. He listens, trying to decide whether they should go down to the lab or up to the living area.

"Up." Pamela tells him, moments before the announcement comes from above him.

He steps aside so Pamela can take the steps first.

She'd already berated him about how she can see and doesn't need his help, so he doesn't guide her by the arm, but he's still nervous about it. He doesn't exactly understand how heavily impaired eyesight works when you also have psychic knowledge, so he'll stay out of her way but be ready to help if she asks. Sam managed not to offend her, but he still follows suit.

They hear Danny's cheerful "Pamela!" As she makes it to the top. He makes introductions that she interrupts to show off her magical ability to tell everyone's names.

They share their findings about Anna's childhood psychosis, and their... admittedly a bit far-fetched plan to hypnotize her back to the time where she believed her father wasn't her father and the real one wanted her dead. They'd ask child Anna some questions, and hopefully get some context.

Preparations, triple confirmation that Anna was okay with this, and one hypnotherapy session began... Anna's pleas make it nearly impossible to get answers and their attempts to calm her only stress her futher.

Then the lights flicker, once, twice. The nearest light bulb shatters and Danny swears and runs for the fuse box. A humming whine fills the room, Anna's words echo in its call but there's  something more. A cry for help.

"Anna," Dean approaches, his boots crunch glass as he reaches for her.

"Dean, don't." Pamela warns.

But he has too. The only other person who might hear her plea is stopping the building from frying itself.  She needs to know she's not alone. He touches her arm and the world stops.

Where the second lightbulb had broken,  tiny flecks of tiny glass hang in the air. Everything is utterly silent, then Anna breathes sharply and everything is back to how it was. Er- kinda. But there's no more unnatural whine and the power's been successfully shut off.

"It's okay, Anna." He says, and she settles back into the weird semi-consciousness that is hypnosis. Her hand claspes around his. "We're here with you. We'll keep you safe."

"I believe you." She says, and across the room Danny makes meaningful eye contact, though Dean couldn't guess what he's trying to say.

Pamela carefully continues.

"Who is your father? Why does he want to hurt you?"

"He's God. And I disobeyed."

"Most children disobey their parents, what makes this different?"

"I fell."

"On the ground?"

"To earth. I became human."

"Wait a minute. I don't understand. So, angels can just become human?" Sam interrupts. Pamela glares in his direction, but Anna answers.

"It hurts, like cutting your kidney out with a butter knife. That kind of hurt. I ripped out my grace."

"Your Grace?"

"My grace. It's... energy. Hacked it out and fell."

"Her core," Danny whispers, horrified. "She split it, that's why she can feel the barrier... but... ask her how she's human?"

"How did you become human, Anna?"

"My mother, Amy, couldn't get pregnant. Always called me her little miracle. She had no idea how right she was."

"Did you remember?" Danny asked, and Pamela doesn't give him a dirty look for some reason.

"The older I got, the longer I was human, the more the memory faded."

"Well fuck. I don't think you all appreciate how completely screwed we are." Ruby exclaims. Anna whimpers. Danny throws a pillow at Ruby.

"Any more questions, or should I wake her up?" Pamela asks before they can devolve further.

"Wake her up." Dean decides for them.

"Wake in 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Anna... Anna? You all right?"

Anna sits sharply, she doesn't let go of his hand.

"Ruby's right. Heaven wants me dead."

"And Hell just wants her. A flesh-and-blood angel that you can question, torture, that bleeds. Sister, you're the Stanley Cup. And sooner or later, Heaven or Hell, they're gonna find you."

"I know. And that's why I'm gonna get it back." Apparently they were breezing past the fact that Anna not only remembered her past, but also remembered what happened while she was under. Pamela seemed much more disturbed than everyone else.

"What?"

"My Grace."

"You can do that?"

"Yep." Danny said.

"If I can find it." Anna agreed.

"So where is it?"

"Lost track. I was falling about 10,000 miles per hour at the time."

"Wait. You mean falling, like, literally?" Sam asks.

"Yes."

"Like the way a human eye can see? Like a comet, maybe, or a meteor?"

"Please say yes." Danny adds, grinning wide.

---

Danny is a nerd.

Dean knew this, but having a list of every meteor landing site in the country already mapped and dated on his wall... Danny was a nerd.

"Meteorite." Danny corrected.

"What?"

"Anna didn't burn up in the atmosphere, she'd be a meteorite, not a meteor."

"It felt like I burnt up." Anna ponders.

"It really does. Heat shielding is such a good invention and I really could've used it."

"What?"

"What?"

"He's messing with us." Dean concluded.

"Maybe. Maybe not." Dean rolled his eyes.

"Here?" Sam asks, "Kentucky, In '85, there was an empty field outside of town. Six months later, there was a full-grown oak. They say it looked a century old at least."

"The Grace. Where it hit, it could have done something like that, easy."

"So grace ground zero -- it's not destruction. It's..."

Anna speaks at the same time as Danny.

"Pure creation." "The Ideal becomes Form."

They look at each other, eyes narrow like they agree but also both want to argue about choice of words.

Dean will let them argue as they drive. All that's left is to find the stuff and hopefully they'll have less worries tomorrow.

---

"This is definitely the place, I can feel it," Anna tells them as she steps out of Danny's van. She looks to the magic tree. Danny follows with his scanner.

She places her hand on the oak's trunk. "It's not here... someone took it."

"I'm picking up some other ecto-signatures. I think I know who."

Danny holds out the device. Sam takes it and frowns at the screen. It gets passed around and Dean catches a glimpse of meaningless numbers.

"You're gonna have to clarify."

"That's Uriel's signature."

"We need a plan."

---

"You're sure you have to do this alone?" Danny asked as he follows Ruby out into night air. The ground would frost completely tonight and probably linger throughout the day tomorrow. Danny had left his jacket inside and he was pretend to shiver around her.

Ruby turned, hesitating. "I don't think they'll  believe you're on their side."

"They're not going to believe you are either. We're already counting on them thinking we just want out of no-man's land."

She sighs, "I don't think it's going to be that simple."

"All the more reason to have backup."

"So go give backup to the three humans."

"They have specter deflectors and Anna has her banishing spell if they need it. You can't wear one, and your banishing spell requires components you don't have." She glares, probably annoyed that he knows about that. 

"We need to get far enough away, and I can't teleport us both." She argues. 

Danny lets his transformation wash over him. He falls back, floating off the ground a bit. "I fly fast, where are you thinking?"

"Fine."

---

The field is in the middle of nowhere, it has enough space for a proper fight  without alerting any potential bystanders if it come to that. Danny nods his approval and settles back into human form.

Then, after a second thought, he pulls Soulshreader from her pocket dimension and lets her materialize a sheath on his belt. Ruby's eyes catch on the blade.

"You're not Samhain."

"Obviously."

"How—" She opens and closes her mouth, trying to word her question.

"Samhain is dead." Danny tells her, Soulshreader hums a grief filled note. She'd only awakened after Fright had shed his old name, it had been a painful and confusing time after the summoning.

" You killed him?"

Danny nodded.

"And you took his blade?!"

"Not exactly." Soulshreader was allowing him to carry her, keeping her unwillingly would be... just no.

"That sure looks like it."

"She. Soulshreader prefers she." Ruby made a face, and Danny checked to make sure he wasn't growing a second head. Usually he was aware of when his body felt the need to be weird, but when people looked at him like that... no head #2, and all his limbs were correct. "What?"

" Her ... her name is Soulshreader...?"

Danny nods.

"Right... sorry..."

Soulshreader hums.

"She accepts your apology."

"...Right... I'm just gonna," She holds out the lighter and the hex bag.

He nods.

"Out of curiosity, is there a reason you can't like, chuck it in the woods or something?" He asks while it burns.

"What?"

"So you can collect it later instead of making a new one?"

She starts to answer, but is cut off by the appearance of someone new.

"Hello, Ruby."

"Alastair."

"I have to say, I'm surprised to find you out in the open like this."

"Yeah? Desperate times."

"That they are. You looking for this?" Alistair pulls the blade Sam had lost. "Your gawky human friend gave it to me."

"Keep it. I just came to talk."

"About what? About how a demon is protecting an angel? We really must revoke your membership." Was that a thing they could do? It might make Ruby's next steps easier, if she really wants it.

"Look, I know I'm not employee of the month, but this— I never wanted to get in the middle of this."

"Why are you here, Ruby?" Alistair asks with new interest.

"I'll give you the angel."

"Will you? And in return?"

"We walk away." She gestures to Danny, forcing Alistair to stop ignoring him. Not that Danny minded, being underestimated helped. "Us and the Winchester boys, both of them. This angel business is none of our business."

"Hmm. You know...I'd always heard that you were a devious, cowardly little slut. You don't disappoint."

"So, what do you say?"

"It's interesting... Prudent. But, uh... Let me make you a... counteroffer."

Danny is grabbed from behind, and he throws an elbow back before he truly processes what's happening. It connects, earning an "Oof" from his attacker.

He whirls, grabbing at the demon. Note: he means grabbing at the demon, not the human host. You might think it's impossible to grab their smoke-like forms, but in reality, smoke is less their actual shape and more of a human brain's approximation of their shape. Danny, as a thing who is also capable of being fluid-like or gaseous, is more than able to grab the demon themself. And he does so, a twinge of intangibility helping him free them from their host's flesh.

He brings Soulshreader up with his other hand—in a move that is horribly unbalanced and annoys her greatly, but that's just as effective as he intended— and slashes at the thin line of black, sending the demon to Soulshreader's realm.

It won't hold them forever, the place of nightmare is not that different from Hell, in Danny's opinion, he hasn't actually been to Hell to compare. But it will hold long enough to keep them out of this fight. The host falls back on the grass, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Run." Danny tells them, and they do. He turns back to Ruby only to see that she's stopped struggling in favor of gaping at him. As much as he wants to sigh, he turns back to Alistair, Soulshreader at the ready. "And here I thought our offer was perfectly reasonable. Do I need a counter-counteroffer?"

"Who, exactly, are you supposed to be?" Alistair tries for demeaning as his aura flairs. It's hot and angry— a fire core— but not enraged, he's still assessing.

Danny replies with a flair of his own, cold and determined. Alistair shivers, and Danny knows that if this turns, he has the advantage. The demon lives in an inferno, the night air that isn't nearly cold enough for Danny's tastes is already well past Alistair's comfort zone.

"Let her go, then we can bargain."

"You are not in a position to make demands."

"Aren't I? We have what you want, and you'renit the only ones looking for her." If the bluff is going to fall apart it will be now, Danny's not the best of liers and if his distaste for the concept shows through… Alistair tips his head to the demon to the demon holding Ruby.

"Hurt her, and you make an enemy." Danny warns, this he can say without hesitation. 

Alistair frowns, "And here I thought you already were?"

"I'm not your ally, I don't like you, and I'm going to help my friends. But I've never gone out of my way to hunt you or yours. I only bother with them when they go after mine ." Possessiveness was a trait most ecto-entities understood.

"I let her go, you take us to the girl."

"And."

"And we won't touch you or yours..." Alistair caught himself, adding quickly, "Tonight."

Danny carefully kept his grin off his face. Alistair hadn't asked who he counted as his. "Deal."

---

"Little early for that, isn't it?" Anna asks as he puts down the flask.

"It's 2 a.m. somewhere." He says instead of explaining that it is just water and he uses the flask because he's broken far too many plastic water bottles to keep bothering with them, the large ones are too large to comfortably carry around anyway and this flask has held up since his dad bought it when he was a kid.

Though maybe if he had said all that she wouldn't be asking "You okay?".

"Yeah, of course." Just extremely nervous. He'd feel much better if he knew Ruby and the demon party were also on their way.

The doors burst open behind him. He knows it's Castiel and Uriel by the feel of their presence, he turns to look anyway, unsurprised.

"Hello, Anna. It's good to see you." Castiel tells her, ignoring the rest of them.

"How? How did you find us?" Sam pauses, buying what time he can. "Dean?"

No one crashes through the other doors, not yet, every second counts. He turns to Anna, hoping the angel's will let them give goodbyes. "I'm sorry."

"Why?" Sam asks him.

"Because they gave him a choice. They either kill me... or kill you. I know how their minds work." Anna explains, and wow, that's scary accurate. Dean hadn't described his dreamscape, only told them they were coming. Anna kisses him. Not as long as earlier, and as much as Dean would love to see how long the angel's would put up with this, she pulls away.

"You did the best you could. I forgive you. Okay. No more tricks." Hah! "No more running. I'm ready."

"I'm sorry." Castiel admits.

"No. You're not. Not really. You don't know the feeling."

"Still, we have a history. It's just—"

"Orders are orders. I know. Just make it quick."

"Don't you touch a hair on that poor girl's head." Dean never thought he'd be glad to hear Alistair's voice, but here they were. He stands at the other end of the room with another few demons and Danny and Ruby.

"How dare you come in this room, you pussing sore?" Uriel demands.

"Name-calling. That hurt my feelings... You sanctimonious, fanatical prick."

"Turn around and walk away now." Castiel also demands.

"Sure. Just give us the girl. We'll make sure she gets punished good and proper."

"You know who we are and what we will do. I won't say it again. Leave now... or we lay you to waste."

"Think I'll take my chances."

All as planned, Dean presses against the wall as demons and angels scramble at each other. Surprisingly enough, rather than killing each other, they preform exorcisms, angels sending demons back to hell and Alistair apparently knowing how to do the opposite to angels. Dean watches Alistair pin Castiel and shout words in Latin and he wonders if he should do something. Castiel never tortured him, but Alistair never threatened to destroy a city. His indecision holds him in the spot, but Anna, out of some old loyalty, hits Alistair over the head with a crowbar.

Alistair turns, lunging to attack her with his friggin knife but, he freezes even before he even gets in range of specter deflectors shock.

Danny notices, and practically drips with satisfaction. "You really should've taken Ruby's deal. She binds with the spirit of the law, but I bind with the letters ."

Alistair snarls at him, and begins to move, but this time notices the fighting freeze on the other side of the room.

Ruby holds a shining pendant over her head. No, Ruby holds Anna's grace in triumphant threat. "You should leave now." She tells... Dean isn't sure who she's threatening, other than the fact that she's definitely threatening Uriel.

Uriel throws insults but doesn't dare to get closer. No one does, even Alistair afraid of what she might do.

"You define your own nature, Ruby." Danny tells her, gently and sympathetic. Then he says,  "We are not what we eat."

Which might be a joke?! Ok. Dean didn't know what he was afraid was happening here but that was worse. Dean didn't know what eating a chunk of angel power would do, but that was clearly exactly what Ruby wanted to do. She holds Danny's gaze for an eternity, then she does the same to Sam.

She lowers her arm slowly, her decision clearly made but which decision none of them know. She looks to Anna, who takes slow, careful, steps forward. It's another eternity before they're within reach, and Ruby's hand shakes with the effort of holding the glowing light.

Gently, she presses it into Anna's hands and Dean breathes too soon.

Uriel lunges. Anna shrieks, "Look away!"

And it's all Dean can do to follow her instruction as the world burns with radiant light.