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one-idea · 8 months ago

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Spades in Thriller Bark part 2

The fight with Ora and the arrival of Kuma

Moria joins Ora

Moria tells them that if they win he will release all the shadows.

Zoro send Usopp to go get more salt and Moria tells Ora to destroy the door and Usopp. Chopper and Deuce take off after Usopp, he’s going to need a doctor after a hit like that

But the hit doesn’t land as Brook arrives just in time to save Usopp and bring them enough salt to win

The fight continues on but with Moria there they are struggling more than ever. He turned their attacks against them, being able to fire back anything they throw at him.

Franky

Usopp launches Franky at Ora only for Frabky to get knocked back down to earth. Nami shows up just in time to save him but when Ora attacks her it reveals that Ora can now stretch like Luffy.

Franky has been taken out of the fight.

Brook and Skull

Brook asks for them to launch him next. They do so firing him like and arrow. Nami using her clim-a-tact to give him an electric charge. The attack lands but puts Brook in an awful position.

Skull runs over to help the bone man only for both of them to be hit by Ora. They are down and out of the fight.

Robin and Mihar

Robin realizing that if she attacks Moria then Ora can’t stretch does so. Mihar realizing her plan lines a shot uo with Moria and takes it. The shot hits the warlord dead on.

For a second they believe that they have won.

But then Moria appears behind Robin and Mihar. He slaps Mihar away taking him out of the fight and steals robins Shadow, knocking her out.

Chopper, Sanji, Zoro, and Deuce

Chopper approaches Deuce while all of this was happening and the two doctors get to work on examining Ora’s body while Moria is distracted. They yell out their findings to the others. Realizing that the body, while expertly repaired, is still damaged and they might be able to permanently break it. If they can hit it in the right spots.

Ora moves to crush the two doctors. Chopper shapeshifts into a smaller size to escape. Deuce grabs a lock of the giants hair and uses it to swing to the other side.

Chopper then leads the charge and Sanji jumps up to help him. They hit Ora’s shoulder hard, but not hard enough. The giant jumps into the air and attacks the two of them, finishing them off.

Zoro tells Usopp to get ready. That he would make an opening. He attacks with all that he has and makes a pretty good dent. But it’s not enough Moria still lands a devastating blow to Zoro, taking him out of the fight.

At the same time the movement causes Deuce to lose his grip sending him flying. But he’s able to see Usopp shooting salt into Ora’s mouth. ‘At least it’s over.’ He thinks as he’s sent hurtling away from the castle and braces to hit the ground. This is going to kill him.

Except someone catches him.

With Ace and Luffy.

Both Ace and Luffy had chased after Moria. But the man is tricky and was able to split them up. Luffy chasing after Moria’s shadow while Ace tracked Moria.

Ace was about to catch up with the man. Moria had made his way back into the castle and Ace was right on his heals. Only to come face to face with Kuma.

Kuma had just finished his meeting with Moria, turned to see Ace. He told Moria he would take care of Whitebeard’s commander, Moria could focus on the straw hats.

Ace is furious. Why is there another warlord here and why is he helping Moria to destroy Luffy’s crew? It doesn’t matter, he’d fight anyone to keep his brother and their friends safe. He’s trusting Luffy and the crew to handle Moria. He’ll handle Kuma.

It’s a brutal fight. Kuma can’t touch Ace (he could with Haki but the man’s not trying to hard) but he’s also too fast for Ace to burn. It’s a stalemate.

Well not totally as Kuma is pushing Ace further from the castle.

While they are fighting he tells Ace something that will haunt him. “Blackbeard said he used to be under your command.”

“How do you know Teach?” Ace asked enraged. But he was trying to cover his fear. If Teach showed up now he has no idea what they would do. They were already spread so thin between two warlords.

“He was just inducted as a warlord.” Kuma reveals making Ace’s world halts. No. This can’t be. Ace knew Teach was trying to impress the government by killing Luffy, but he hadn’t thought that this would be his goal. And if this was his end goal, who did he get instead of Luffy? What did he do to get that title?

He’s about to ask when he hears screaming coming from above. He looks up just in time to see Deuce hurtling through the air. He doesn’t think before he flys up to catch his best friend.

Deuce opens his eyes to find that he didn’t hit the ground. No he’s very much still in the air. But this time he’s up in the air because Ace is holding him tightly in his arms.

Deuce looks up to see his captain (because Ace will always be his captain) haloed by his own flames. His freckled face close to Deuce’s own, asking if Deuce is okay, while holding him in a bridal carry.

Deuce, who prides himself on his words, for he is a writer after all, has no words to speak.

He is saved from having to respond by Kuma jumping up to hit them. Ace cuts off his own flame causing them to fall and avoid Kuma’s attack. Once they land they hear a loud boom coming from the castle.

Nightmare Luffy has arrived. Kuma turns his attention towards that fight and almost hums. “It seems Moria and Strawhat have finally clashed.” He then turns to Ace and Deuce. “Another time.” He says before disappearing.

Ace tenses until he realizes that Kuma is gone. Then he realizes the only place Kuma would go was towards Luffy. He picks Deuce back up and the two shoot off towards the fight. Deuce quickly trying to catch Ace up with what has been happening.

They get there just as all the shadows leave Nightmare Luffy. It’s a disturbing image to walk in on but at least Luffy is okay. And they are together to face one of the two warlords currently on the island.

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sweeter-innocence-fics · 2 years ago

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My Sweetest Downfall - Chapter Six

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Work Summary:

Eddie’s back from the Upside Down, but things aren’t exactly how he left them. Hawkins is in pieces, his friends are scattered and the love of his life is… pregnant?

Eddie Munson x Harrington!Reader

Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 Epilogue

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3326

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist: @mrs-kai-anderson @ang3l1te @missryerye @eddiesgirlforever @harrys-tittie @munsonmoonshine86

Taglist info

Previous Chapter

Notes:

warnings for medical stuff, pregnancy stuff, allusions to King Steve, bullying, drug mentions, choking, mind control, violence

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~ TWO MONTHS EARLIER ~

You were in a car again, driving to a clinic, although under much better circumstances than last time, because Steve was behind the wheel. You were going to find out your baby’s gender today.

After the stunt your parents tried to pull, Steve had taken you over to Hopper and Joyce’s place. You had stayed with Joyce and the kids, while Hop, Steve and Jonathan, as well as Hopper’s Russian friend Dmitri, went back to your house to talk to your parents.

None of them would tell you what happened, just that your parents were leaving town again. You couldn’t help but be grateful.

The two of you had stayed the night (Steve taking the couch, you commandeering Will’s room while Will shared with Eleven) and when you went home the next day, your parents were long gone.

With your parents gone, and unlikely to be coming back any time soon, you and Steve made a decision. You would stay at your parents’ house for a few more months, just to give you time to save up some extra money, since your parents were undoubtedly about to cut you off.

You had picked up some part-time secretarial work at the police station, while Steve took on more Family Video shifts.

Once he’d told Robin about your plan to move out, she had decided to throw her lot in with you as well. That was good. Splitting rent three ways was cheaper than two, and she’d be able to help out once the baby came.

It was strange. Your baby was becoming more and more real by the minute. You couldn’t help but imagine what it would look like, but every time you pictured it, you could only see Eddie’s face. You wondered how you would bear it.

What if you couldn’t care for your baby because looking at it only reminded you of your grief? Or worse, what if your baby looked nothing like Eddie, and over time every memory of his face faded?

“Are you okay?” asked Steve, making you jump. The car was parked in the parking lot of the clinic �� your clinic, not the one your parents had taken you to – and Steve was watching you with concern.

You swallowed. “I don’t know.”

“Well, we don’t wanna be late, but we can talk about it after, if you want? I’ll buy you lunch?” he offered, as if he wasn’t paying for all your food anyway. He insisted that all the money you were earning should be for you to spend on yourself and the baby.

“That sounds nice.”

The nurse bustled into the examination room, where you were already settled, lying back on the bed with your tummy exposed. She was an older woman, with a kind face.

“Hello dear, my name is Laura. I need to ask you a few questions before we get started.” She glanced at Steve, who was sitting in the chair beside you. “Is this the father?”

“No,” you both said, very quickly.

“I’m her brother,” said Steve, at the same time that you said, “The father is…” You trailed off, feeling your eyes begin to sting.

You cleared your throat awkwardly. “The father is dead. He died shortly after the baby was conceived.”

The nurse gave you a sympathetic look. “I’m so sorry. The earthquakes?” You swallowed, and nodded. “Well, I don’t want to make this any more traumatic for you than it needs to be, so I’ll try to be quick about it.”

She took a brief medical history from you, filling out information on a clipboard. You answered robotically, wanting to get to the important part.

“Alright, this is going to feel quite cold. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Despite her warning, you winced as the cool gel was spread over your bump. As she pressed the ultrasound wand to your tummy, you looked at Steve, but he was staring at the screen.

There was your baby. It looked like a peanut. The nurse pointed out the baby’s head to you, but you couldn’t respond. Your mouth was too dry.

“And do you want to know the baby’s sex?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She examined the image on the screen, shifting the wand slightly. “It looks like you’re having a little baby girl.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You looked at Steve, and saw that he was crying.

“A girl,” you breathed, picturing a child with long dark curls and big brown eyes. Steve squeezed your hand, letting out a shaky laugh. Tears were rolling down your cheeks, and you weren’t even trying to wipe them away anymore.

The first time that you ever interacted with Eddie Munson, you were in your sophomore year.

You were the polar opposite of your brother. He was cool, and popular, and had a different girl hanging off his arm every week. You were dorky and shy, and the mean girls in your class could smell blood in the water from a mile away.

You had just closed your locker and turned to walk to your next class when a foot caught around your ankle, sending you headlong, your books flying out of your hands. From behind you, you could hear your bullies tittering as they walked away.

Your knees stung where they had scraped along the floor. As you started to gather up your books, you couldn’t seem to get your hands to move fast enough. The idea of going to your next class, of having to sit in front of those girls, filled you with dread.

It wasn’t as if you had many friends at high school. You were quiet and nerdy and kept to yourself. Steve, who had always been there to protect you throughout your childhood, was distant now. He was almost an adult, and he didn’t have time to hang out with his kid sister.

You’d probably cramp his style anyway. As you began stuffing your textbooks into your bag, a pair of scruffy sneakers entered your line of sight.

“You okay?” came a voice from above you. You looked up into the eyes of Eddie Munson, local drug dealer and drop-out waiting to happen. Or least, that’s what people said.

“I, uh… Yeah.” Your voice cracked embarrassingly, and you realised you were about ten seconds away from bursting into tears.

Eddie held out his hand to you, and you let him help you to your feet.

“It’s Harrington, right?” he asked.

“Yeah. And you’re Eddie Munson.”

He flashed you a grin. “I see my reputation precedes me. But what is a goody two shoes like you still doing here? Aren’t you gonna be late for class?” He drummed his fingers against a locker. He seemed unable to keep still.

You blew out some air from between your lips. You were already late, and the thought filled you with an anxiety that hit you like pain in the chest. The image of your bully sneering at you as you stumbled in, five minutes late, was unbearable. “Fuck going to class. The bitch who tripped me is in that class.”

Eddie’s eyes widened mischievously. “In that case, I know a spot that none of the teachers know about. You wanna hang out?”

You looked at him. He was smiling at you, but there was a trace of nervousness in his eyes. You realised that he was putting himself out on a limb here.

“Fuck it. Lead the way.”

His eyes glinted as he beckoned you to follow him.

That evening, you’d had to take the bus home, because Steve was hanging out with his asshole friends after school. You didn’t mind it. It was nice to have the house to yourself. Hanging out with your brother wasn’t as fun as it used to be.

It was after 11pm by the time he got home. You were eating pizza while watching a movie. He stopped in the doorway and regarded you.

“What are you looking at?” you asked, and he sighed.

“Tommy said he saw you walking into the woods with Eddie Munson earlier.”

Your heart sank. “And?”

Steve bit his lip. “I’m not telling you what to do, but be careful, alright? That guy is bad news. And he’s way too old to be hanging out with you anyway.” You scoffed, but Steve continued. “I’m serious, okay? The guy’s a freak.”

“He’s really nice, actually,” you snapped back at him. “I’m done with this conversation.”

You had never been happier to prove Steve wrong. Eddie was never anything short of a gentleman to you. He was almost too much of a gentleman.

It took a few months for you to realise that you were developing a bit of a crush on Eddie Munson. By that point, you hung out all the time, getting high and avoiding doing homework.

You got the sense that he was holding you at arm’s length. He would never sit too close to you, would never touch you if he could avoid it.

At the time, you had assumed he just didn’t like you that way, but in retrospect, it was probably because he was two years older than you.

You had no idea that he might’ve felt in any way the same as you did until that one night at Reefer Rick’s. You had a feeling that Steve had known before you had.

“I just don’t like you hanging around with him,” he’d said one evening after Eddie had dropped you off in his van.

“Oh, so now you care?” you’d snapped back at him, and he’d flushed.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

You’d rolled your eyes. “We’re just friends.”

“Look.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know what guys are like. I’m just trying to look out for you, okay?”

“If you got your way, I wouldn’t have any friends at all.”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” he’d said, but you were done having the conversation. You’d stormed off up to your room and slammed the door behind you.

But Steve now was nothing like Steve then. He was still protective of you, but he was kinder. Maturity, grief, and the years of being an unwilling babysitter had softened his sharp edges.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked you. Again, you found yourself sitting in the passenger seat of Steve’s car, except this time you were in the parking lot of the motel that Wayne Munson was staying in. It was two days since you’d found out you were having a baby girl, and in those two days, you had realised that Wayne deserved an opportunity to be a part of that little girl’s life.

You liked Wayne plenty, although you barely knew him. He was always civil and courteous to you, but you knew from Eddie that he was a whole lot more than that. Eddie idolised him. You knew that Eddie would want Wayne in his daughter’s life.

You looked down at the photocopy of the sonogram that showed your baby girl.

“I already told him that I’m pregnant on the phone. That was the hard part,” you said.

Steve squeezed your shoulder. “I’m here with you.”

Wayne met you in front of his motel room. There was a moment’s hesitation from both of you, but you decided to hug him. He smelled clean, like soap and a trace of engine oil.

It was a warm evening, so the three of you sat at a little picnic table on a patch of grass beside the parking lot. Before any of you could speak, you slid the photocopy of the sonogram across the table to Wayne.

“I want you to have this,” you said as he picked it up. “The first picture of my baby girl.”

“A girl, huh?” Wayne wiped his eyes on a handkerchief, and you tactfully didn’t acknowledge the fact that he was crying. “Have you thought of any names for her yet? I know it’s early days.”

You hesitated. You hadn’t even told Steve what you wanted to name the baby.

“Melody,” you said. “Because Eddie was a musician.” Was. It still stung to say.

“Little Melody,” Wayne mused. A smile flickered across his face. “I like it.”

~ PRESENT DAY ~

Eddie released you and you sucked in a breath, your hands flying to your throat.

“Let go! Let go of her!” shouted Lucas, pulling on his arm. Eddie may have been bigger, but Lucas was athletic. Now that Eddie was no longer resisting, Lucas was able to drag him off you.

Your hands were covering your neck, mercifully hiding the bruises he knew were forming. His stomach was churning hard.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

You looked back at him, your eyes wet with tears, and Eddie’s heart shattered into a million pieces. He’d hurt you. He’d never meant to hurt you, but he had.

Dimly, he realised Dustin was yelling into the microphone attached to the switchboard, trying to get someone to help.

“I’m coming,” came Steve’s voice. “I never should’ve left her alone.”

“Steve, no-” Your voice came out weak, and you coughed. Instinctively, Eddie reached for you to comfort you, but pulled back suddenly, realising you may not want his comfort right now. Pushing yourself up using the coffee table, you went over to the switchboard and commandeered the mic. “Steve?”

“Are you okay?” Steve asked. “Did he hurt you?”

“Don’t come here,” you said. “Stick to the plan.”

“But-”

“Look, whatever just happened, happened because Vecna wanted it to. He’s trying to draw you away. Don’t give him what he wants.”

“Screw Vecna, I just need to know that you’re okay.”

You turned and looked at Eddie. There was a burning sensation in his chest, like shame he had never felt before. The evidence of violence – unwilling as it had been – was written into the bruises on your neck. If there was anything he could do to fix this, he would.

“Vecna isn’t controlling him right now.”

“But what’s to stop him from doing it again?”

“Tie me up,” Eddie cut in. You looked at him, wide-eyed. “I can’t hurt you if I’m tied up.”

“What if you need to fight?” you asked, and he shook his head.

“It’s too risky. I can’t hurt you. I won’t. Please. Just tie me up.”

You swallowed. “Okay.” You turned back to the microphone. “We’re gonna tie Eddie up.”

“I heard.” The disapproval in Steve’s voice was evident.

“Please, just…” You took a deep breath. “Please just stick to the plan, okay? We’ve got to do this on our terms, not Vecna’s.”

There was a long pause, and then Steve sighed. “Fine.”

Fortunately, Hopper had anticipated the need to keep someone incapacitated. There were a couple of sets of handcuffs, as well as a closet with a sturdy, lockable door.

Eddie held out his hands to you so that you could cuff him. You decided to cuff his hands in front of him rather than behind, for his comfort. In spite of everything, you didn’t want to hurt him.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured to you as he walked into the closet, almost too quiet for you to hear.

You cleared your throat, which still stung. “Not your fault.”

“Still.” He swung around to look at you, a pleading look in his eyes. “I’m sorry. Not just for this.” He gestured at your neck. “For all of it. Dying. Leaving you. Hurting you. I never wanted any of that for you.”

“You didn’t die,” you said, wiping away a few stray tears. You’d taken a couple of cushions from the sofa, so you busied yourself arranging them, and then set a bottle of water on the floor for him.

“I think I did. I don’t know what I am now.” You could only stare at him. There was a long pause, and then he said, “you should probably close the door. Before… you know…”

“Right.”

You were just about to close the door when he said, “Wait.” You hesitated, and immediately regretted it when he lunged at you, a sickening grin on his face.

You slammed the closet door just in time to hear him collide with it and then curse loudly. Eddie was gone. Vecna had him again.

From the living room, you heard shouting. Your fingers were trembling as you locked the closet using the three deadbolts Hopper had installed.

“Come on, baby,” Eddie whined, sounding so unlike himself. “I just wanna have fun. Can’t we have fun?”

“Get out of his head,” you hissed.

“I love you, you know that?” You stopped in your tracks. “You’re my dream girl. I’ve been in love with you for years.” Your heart was hammering in your chest. These weren’t Eddie’s words, as much as you wanted them to be.

Footsteps were rushing towards you. Dustin was calling your name. You turned to see him looking frantic. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Will. And Max. They- They’re-”

Blood ice cold in your veins, you sprinted past him, back into the living room. To your horror, the front door was wide open. You ran to close it, but Dustin blocked you.

“Will ran out there. Mike followed him.”

“Shit.” You rushed to the door and looked outside, but it was pitch dark. “Why did he do that?” Shadows danced in between the trees, too fast for you to make out.

“He was in some kind of trance, and-”

Lucas shouted your name. You had to resist the urge to put your hands over your ears.

“I need your help,” he shouted. The terror in his voice made you turn around. He was holding Max, but her body was limp, her eyes rolled back into her head. You saw that he had put her headphones on.

“Let’s get her into the bedroom,” you said. The bedroom had been prepared as a last resort. It was where the weapons were, and was even more heavily fortified than the rest of the cabin. “Close the door, but keep watch for Mike and Will. Don’t do anything without me,” you said to Dustin and Erica.

Between you, you and Lucas managed to lift Max into her wheelchair, wheel her into the bedroom and manoeuvre her onto the bed. You checked that her music was still playing, and thankfully, it was. You hoped against hope that it would still work.

From next door, you heard a huge, horrifying crash. Everything was happening so fast, and despite being surrounded by people, you had never felt so alone.

“Stay with her,” you said to Lucas, although you knew that there wasn’t a force on this earth that could tear him away from her now.

The living room was carnage, even worse than how you’d just left it. You almost tripped over a sofa cushion on the ground. Dustin was lying in the shattered remains of the switchboard, and Erica was trying to hold the front door shut by herself.

There was a strange hissing, and then you realised what Erica was trying to hold off. Trapped with its head in the doorframe, its body outside, was a demodog. It was trying to wrap its head around her legs, and she was kicking at it ineffectually.

Something slammed into the door hard, almost knocking Erica off balance. That snapped you into action.

You ran to her side and grabbed the baseball bat that was by the front door. You brought down the bat with all your strength on the creature’s head, and then continued beating it until its head slipped back through the gap.

Adding your strength to Erica’s, you shoved the door back into place. You held it shut while she fumbled with all the locks, and at last, it stopped shaking.

“What happened?” you asked, out of breath.

“Eddie,” she said, her big eyes shiny with tears. “He escaped.”

Next Chapter

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x harrington!reader #eddie munson x you #steve harrington x sister!reader

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trigger-happy-in-red · 5 months ago

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(( in your au, do people know that jason todd is red hood? or is red hood just associated with the waynes for silly little other reasons!! ))

(Ooc: it is known that there are two people dating both a wayne and a bat, E dating Dick and Nightwing and Bernard dating RR and Tim. Jason Todd-Wayne is dead, as is the original second Robin.

Hood has said before [although it is not particularly common knowledge] that he was good friends with Todd-Wayne while they were on the streets and they stayed close until his death.

It is well known in Crime Alley (and everywhere else under Hood’s control) that his second-in-command is a man named Jason, also called JT, that volunteers at a lot of soup kitchens, shelters, and the like.

Hope this helps! Feel free to let me know if you have other questions.)

#only in gotham #gotham city #gotham rp #red hood #red hood rp #batfam without the bat #red hood’s goons #ooc post

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fe-fictions · 2 years ago

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i remember seeing a piece in the FEH world where the MC was waiting for Kiran to summon their spouse from the same world as them and kept encountering alternate versions instead - i dont remember which character it was for but i rlly loved that concept :0 do u still have that one in ur archive/reposted? tysm :>>

(So that is actually a Frederick and Robin story!! And here it is for your reading pleasure :3 )

There were so many Robins.

Frederick had taken a psychological hit when Prince Alfonse had summoned him. He looked about and saw several familiar faces, though none were from his realm.

None of the Robins were his. One was unmarried and a monster on the battlefield; another was fresh from the Plegian War and looking optimistic as ever, but clearly liked someone else. Another still was married to another Chrom, which was even more heartbreaking.

He was lost, and alone. The battles went well, but weren’t enough. The man heaved a sigh, leaning against a tree outside of camp. Seeing that smile he knew so well, that voice...the laughter...to know that none were for him...he couldn’t bear it.

Somewhere, deep down, he had hopes that you would come. But why would you be summoned to Askr when you were up in the astral plane somewhere? How would that even be possible?

He shook his head, eyes closed against the embattled realm. Perhaps he should request early leave. He could only handle such torment for so long.

It was noticed by the prince and princess, the pair of siblings spotting the knight from their place in camp. Sharena nudged Alfonse’s shoulder, a frown on her lips.

“You think we summoned the wrong Frederick?” She asked, “He seems really down.”

“Well...there are a number of reasons that could be. It depends on the timeline he’s from. If you remember, their Exalt, Emmeryn died. We might have summoned him just after that.”

“Or maybe the Grima thing. What if this Frederick’s married to a Robin?” She guessed, “What if his Robin became, or maybe killed, Grima?”

“Maybe so.” Alfonse murmured, “Perhaps we should see to sending him home. He’s fought well enough, but if he’s in a state like this, maybe we should let him grieve.”

“But we have to do something! Surely we can find a way to lift his spirits! Why don’t we try summoning his Robin? Or maybe his Chrom! Somebody he knows to help him feel better!”

“If his Robin is dead, that won’t work.” Alfonse said grimly, “Besides, it wouldn’t do to summon their Exalt on top of one of their generals.”

“Didn’t stop you before.” She muttered. “Come on, can’t we please try it? We’ve gotta do something!”

“Well...it is unpleasant, seeing him like this.”

“Then we’d best go find his Robin!” Sharena cheered and tugged him away, the two royals off to reunite the sorrowful captain with his lost love.

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

Frederick didn’t pay any mind to the commotion around camp, days later. He had, for the most part, exiled himself from them. He couldn’t bear to be near to any of those Robins, those mirror images of his dearest.

If he was needed, they would come to find him, as they did for every battle. Perhaps sending one of the royals or their commander, or a hero from another world.

Although he could hear the chatter and curiosity rumbling about, he chose to stay away, in the peace of his little forest haven.

He acknowledged no one until he heard the crunching of leaves under another person’s boots. Frederick paused his thinking, and rose at the frantic footfalls that were coming.

“Has something happened?” He asked seriously, turning to face the oncomer. “Is everything-”

Dark eyes met bright. Frederick froze, staring down at a Robin who looked just as shocked to see him. His heart squeezed at the sight, a painful yearning in his chest. Her mouth fell open, then closed, and opened again. She couldn’t find the words to speak.

Frederick tried to recover himself; he hadn’t had a Robin sent to him before. He wasn’t expecting to see her face. He had made it clear he wanted little to do with the mirrors.

It took all his strength to break his gaze, the flood of painful, precious memories having caught him off guard. He turned his head to the grass, hands clasped tight behind his back.

“Were no others able to send for me?” He questioned with a hint of bitterness in his tone. Who was he kidding; nothing but bitterness left his tongue. “It is nothing against you, milady, but...I cannot see you.”

“Frederick?” Your voice; his name on your lips. Frederick’s eyes narrowed, jaw clenched as he tried to keep his composure. “F-Frederick, it’s me…!”

At this, he slowly returned his gaze to the Robin before him. There was a strange look on your face; you appeared ready to cry. Your fingers trembled, your eyes glistening with unshed tears as you stepped towards him.

For the briefest moment, a glimmer of hope found him. “It’s...you?” He echoed, unconvinced.

You swallowed thickly, nodding quickly to confirm it. “F-Freddybear, it’s me. I’m...I’m back!”

That name.

Frederick’s heart skipped a beat. None of the other Robins had ever approached him that way, and not once did they use that dreadful nickname you’d given him. He didn’t move as you came closer, your expression that of sorrow and joy inexplicably meshed together.

“Back...back from where?” His voice was naught but a breath. Cautiously you reached out, taking hold of his hands. He stiffened at your touch, that familiar warmth he had so yearned for suddenly returning to him. It was no ghost; it was real, and there.

You were there.

“Naga, dearest, she...she sent me here! She said someone was ‘summoning’ me, someone important and that you would be there to see me and I found you and you’re here and- gods, Frederick, I’m back!”

He needn’t hear another word. He engulfed you in a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair as a strangled sob escaped his lips. He squeezed you against him, curling his fingers into your coat as he found what he had been waiting years for.

It was you. You had come to him...you came home.

“Robin…!” He whispered your name so fiercely, over and over as if it were a prayer. You broke down into sobs, clutching onto him for all you were worth. Your fingers darting over his neck, through his hair and down his back, trying to feel every inch of him.

Gods, you had missed him so much. He had ached for you so terribly.

“I-I can’t believe...after all this time I...I thought you might never to return to me…! H-how did you? And this place, no less!”

“It was Naga.” You told him, pulling back just enough to see his face. You smiled sadly at his tears, sniffling and pushing away your own joy enough to speak. “She led me to a light saying it would take me to you. I-I came through and ended up in some strange camp- I asked everyone where you were and now...I’m here.”

“Oh, my darling.” He pressed his forehead to yours, arm curled tight around your waist. He brushed his fingers against your cheek, wiping away the tears that fell merely by his touch. “I have suffered...longed for you...prayed every night that you might finally find me. I-I can’t believe that it’s truly you.”

“It’s me, love.” You promised as you cupped his cheeks, swiping at the odd tear with the pads of your thumbs. He pressed into your touch, relishing the feeling of your hands truly on him, again. “Ah, gods I’ve missed you so much…!”

The two of you sank to the forest floor, the knight feverishly removing his armor so that he could truly feel your warmth against his. You pressed against him, fingers clutched to his vest as if letting go would cause him to disappear.

The ring he had given you so long ago gleamed on your finger, further cementing the truth. You were real and you were there.

You drowned in each other’s touch, kisses rained down on every inch of each other you could reach. You never once separated, not even when the Askrian royals came to check in.

Alfonse explained through his bright red blush that it would be possible to send you both home immediately; Frederick had fought plenty battles for the both of you.

With arms linked and hands clasped tightly together, you returned to your world. Even when the others caught wind; reunited with your closest friends and allies, you never once parted from your beloved.

You let him lead you back to your shared quarters, taking you to bed where you simply lied there, together.

Wrapped in each other’s tender embrace, you stayed for hours simply talking and grieving and laughing, again.

You promised never to leave his side again, and he yours; you would remain together for the rest of your days, making up every second lost without him.

#frederick #robin #fe 13 #fire emblem awakening #fe awakening #fredrobin #frederick x robin #fe fictions #fe-fictions #f!robin #fem!robin #f!mu #fluff #reunion prompt #askr #no but rly this is one of my favorites ;;;;;

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kilannad · 2 years ago

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As the Stars Burn On Chapter 12

Ao3. Masterlist.

The Impregnable Base of Navarone

Vice Admiral ‘Chessmaster’ Jonathan took his time walking around the ‘ghost ship’ that had landed in the lake of his base. Navarone, technically designated G-8 on his multitude of paperwork, was lauded as an impenetrable base, second to only the three judicial islands directly under World Government control. Yet here he was, his lovely midnight fishing excursion thoroughly interrupted by an empty ship. Jonathan had no doubt, however, as sure as the coffee was delicious, that it was no ghost ship. Not while flying a straw-hatted jolly roger.

“Your orders, Commander?” Lieutenant Commander Drake asked, clutching one of the aforementioned coffee cups. Jonathan didn’t need to sample it himself to recognize the distinctive brew--or know it was delicious, when Drake was so willing to bravely try it.

Decisions, decisions. On one hand, as G-8 hadn’t seen battle in months--years, technically, but Jonathan maintained that the yearly mega albatross migration constituted a state of emergency--it had become something of a habit from HQ to send green marines straight from the academy here to gain some simple experience under their belts. No doubt these very enthusiastic soldiers thought themselves well prepared, but if asked to bet between a crew of bountied pirates over half a dozen strong and two hundred well-rested but inexperienced young adults… no contest. Announcing that this was a ghost ship would spook the men, no doubt, but at least there wouldn’t be mass panic about the Straw Hat Pirates invading Navarone.

On the other hand, Jonathan had to remember their unusual guest. Was that why the Straw Hats had made their way here? Thunder God was described as having a strange Devil Fruit and marked internally as a person of interest; there was no telling what his motivations were. If they were here for the prisoner, then there might be a leak in the marines--or it was a huge coincidence and the pirates were there for another, unthought-of reason, which might be more concerning.

Either way, if Jonathan didn’t get this mess cleaned up by tomorrow night, when the HQ bigshot got there, then he could kiss G-8 goodbye.

Jonathan gave another slow look around the ship. There were seven cups in the galley, still warm, and six hammocks with one bed. Three men with bounties--two confirmed Devil Fruit users--and too many unknowns. It was like staring down at a Queen’s Gambit and having no idea how to play chess.

How absolutely exhilarating.

“Men,” Jonathan started, projecting his voice across the ship. All around, the night shift turned their attention to him, pausing in their gathering of evidence. If anything would come of this, at least the marines would be able to fill out the Straw Hat files sitting nearly empty in their cabinets. “I won’t lie to you; this will not be an easy day. The Straw Hat Pirates have invaded our base and disappeared into the night. But Navarone will not fall! We are not called the inescapable base for nothing, and I trust each and every one of you with our pride. Together we will capture these pirates, we will defend our home, and justice will prevail!”

As expected, a roar of approval rose from the gathered marines, loud enough to no doubt wake whatever sack of potatoes had remained unconscious through the alarms. Jonathan gave a few orders to move the ship and have the forensic team do a more thorough sweep and ordered someone from intelligence to be present to compile a folder for the HQ profilers. He didn’t know who would be coming for the prisoner, but Jonathan would be damned if he wasn’t in perfect shape when they showed up. G-8 would close down over his dead body.

☉

Hidden in the thick forest on the edge of the lake, Robin grimaced as a roar went up from the Merry. Next to her, Usopp chewed on his bag strap, weeping over the ship being put in danger. Robin was far more concerned about the rest of the crew--they’d scattered when the alarms went off, everyone disappearing into the night. They had no way to communicate and, she assumed, most of them would have no idea where they were.

Robin had broken into one or twenty marine bases over the years. She tried to avoid it, but sometimes she had no choice if she wanted to stay ahead of them. It meant that, looking over a huge lake, encased with cliffs on all sides and a central tower of stone and steel rising up in the middle, she knew there was only one possible place they could be. Grandline Base 8, aka Navarone. A death sentence for all of them.

Of course, their luck would dump them right into the middle of one of the greatest strongholds in the world. She didn’t know why she was surprised.

Why couldn’t she have joined a normal crew?

☉

Zoro stood on the edge of the cliff, cursing as he dodged another group of marines storming past. He couldn’t see any of his crew, but he trusted them to take care of themselves long enough for him to find them. He might even have enough time to hunt down some sake.

☉

Chopper clung to Lucy’s legs as she stared at the towering marine base. They were at the central column with no idea where the rest of their crew was, the Merry was in marine control, and Lucy was ninety percent sure she'd read somewhere that a Vice Admiral trained by Akainu was in control of G-8.

“Will the others be okay?” Chopper worried.

“Of course,” Lucy lied. Something at the edge of her vision caught her attention and she pressed further back against the wall. A squad of marines was patrolling just over their heads. She strained her ears, but couldn’t make out whatever they were murmuring about.

“Nami’s going to be so mad,” Chopper muttered, looking pale at the thought.

“What do you mean?”

“The marines. They said they found a fortune of gold on the ship and moved it all to the vault.”

Lucy could only imagine the warpath Nami would go on if she ever found out marines had touched her gold. She was fairly certain there wouldn’t be enough left of the base to bury.

“Right,” Lucy breathed, looking around. The patrol had moved on and in the distance, she could see the first paling of the sky. They needed to find the Merry, get the crew together, rescue the gold, and preferably be gone before the Vice Admiral decided to implement some of HQ’s preferred methods of dealing with pirates. Namely, copious amounts of violence. Lucy was pretty sure she could go undercover if she covered up her tattoo, but Chopper would draw attention.

She scowled, wishing Laxus was there. He no doubt already had a seven-step plan. Too bad they would all have to figure this out themselves.

“Okay,” she started, crouching down to be eye level with Chopper. “I’m going to get back the gold, then go undercover. They have to have an information division here which would give me a good chance to find the way out.”

“What about me?”

“I want you to find the infirmary. Stock up on whatever meds we need and wait for someone to contact you for our escape.”

“You’re leaving me alone?!”

“I’m trusting you, Chopper.” She placed a hand on his hat, grinning down at him. “Only you can do this.”

He wavered, then determination set in. He nodded firmly, and they split up, both with their own missions.

☉

Luffy tapped his foot, staring at the four tunnels in front of him, one after the other. He knew there had to be meat somewhere on the island--it was just a matter of finding it. But which of the doors would take him to the kitchen?

His stomach growled.

☉

Laxus pulled Nami behind a tree, muffling her mouth with his hand. Several marines clomped their way through the trees, branches snapping sharply under their feet. The sky was slowly beginning to lighten, and the marine base clunked to life like one giant machine, men and women quickly falling into patrols and searching for the crew. It wasn’t a large island--just a ring of thin forest and one towering monolith of stone in the center. It wouldn’t take them long to be found like this.

“We should go undercover,” Nami murmured, detangling herself from him and peeking through the foliage. “Otherwise we might as well just hand ourselves over.”

“Agreed,” Laxus said. “But I’m too recognizable.”

“Bounty, right.” She groaned, thunking her head against a tree. “Why did we have to land in a marine base of all things?!”

“It could be worse.” She glared at him from the corner of her eye, but he only shrugged. “We could have landed on Impel Down.”

“Not. Helpful.”

He huffed a laugh, before quickly scanning the area. Besides the one group that had already passed them, he couldn’t make out any other unusual scents. Lucy would be fine, he was sure. She was smart, and between Shé and Gemini, would be able to blend in better than the rest of them. The rest of the crew he was a little more worried for.

“C’mon,” he said, slowly inching between the trees. “Let’s see if we can’t get you a uniform or something.”

“What about you?”

“With my senses and teleportation, I should be able to avoid detection long enough to hunt down the rest of them.”

“Oh yeah,” Nami muttered sarcastically. “Because a giant bolt of lightning is so subtle.”

☉

“Well fuck,” Sanji cursed, stubbing out his cigarette before it could give away his position in the trees. “I hope the ladies are alright.” He contemplated the long list of crewmates he had, the size and response time of the base, and came to the rather inevitable conclusion. “Luffy’s going to get caught immediately, isn’t he?”

☉

“Commander Jonathan,” LC Drake saluted. Jonathan hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t look away from the chessboard in front of him. It was balanced precariously on a stack of bounty posters he’d been looking at recently, a full list of any and everyone who might possibly be interested in the prisoner. It wasn’t a very long list.

“Report, Lieutenant.”

“So far, no sightings of the Straw Hats. Sections 5-10 of the base have been thoroughly combed, and the pirate ship is under guard at dock 88.”

“Tighten patrol routes to be closer to the main tower. They’ll have had the time to infiltrate fully by now; look out for suspicious figures.”

“You’ll think they’ll try going undercover, sir?”

“Undoubtedly.”

The door to his office blew open, an Ensign saluting sharply. “Sir! A group of marines carrying the yearly inspector are outside the seagate and demanding entry. They’ve been heavily damaged by a storm and are gaining casualties.”

“Absolutely not,” Drake snapped. “We are on high alert-”

“Let them in,” Jonathan countered. He’d forgotten about the yearly inspection getting closer, what with the news that HQ was sending someone for the prison transfer. He’d sort of assumed that it would end up canceled, but if it hadn’t then he wanted to be sure this wasn’t some ploy by HQ to shut down the base. Besides, the influx of strangers might make the Straw Hats cocky and cause them to slip up with their disguises.

The Ensign scurried away and Jonathan slowly moved a rook forward. On the other side of the board, seven white pieces stood tall.

“What of the prisoner?” he asked after a moment of contemplation.

“Guarded, though the…thing…that came with him is asking for a glass of milk.”

“Let him have it,” Jonathan waved dismissively. “Keeping them happy might get us better results than previous attempts.”

“If you say so, sir. I have one squad standing guard at the entrance. Should I add more?”

He considered it for a moment, before shaking his head. While the prisoner was the only thing he could assume the pirates would be there for, that didn’t mean it was a certainty. “That should suffice. We don’t have the staff to put all our eggs in one basket. I want a copy of the forensic reports. You're dismissed.”

☉

Whistling to himself, the marine was idly glad for the decent weather. There had been that brief storm, but he’d taken the time to stop and nap until it went away. Now, it seemed as if everything was clear skies until he hit his destination. Taking his bicycle had been the right choice after all.

☉

Sanji carefully dragged Luffy into the closet as various men swept into the dining hall. Looking around, he began shoving clothes at Luffy to put on before donning them himself. At least in the kitchen, they might blend in a little.

Now if only Laxus would hurry up and find them. What kind of strategist was he?

☉

Nami tugged at the nurse's uniform, uncomfortable with the mass of injured men all scattered about the infirmary. She hadn’t meant to get caught up in all of this, but Laxus had shoved her toward the room before disappearing toward wherever his nose drew him.

“Nurse,” a deep voice commanded, and she jumped. “Get this patient 5 CCs of morphine.”

“Yes, doctor,” she squeaked, turning to find the biggest, broadest, hairiest man she had ever seen. Honestly even…wait. “Chopper?!”

☉

Zoro took the third right turn in as many minutes, cursing when it did not, in fact, bring him to booze. He didn’t know what marine architect had figured out a way to make the hallways move, but he swore he’d end up killing him. Zoro decided to turn the other way, figuring there had to be another turn somewhere.

He went up, then left, since that was usually where booze was kept--the shitty cook should try a new hiding spot--but instead of finding the kitchen found a study of some kind. Zoro groaned, kicking idly at the desk to see if there was any sake hidden in it.

“That’s rather rude,” someone said. Zoro turned to find a tall, redheaded man in his forties wearing a white suit. “What did my desk ever do to you?”

“Thought it might have booze,” Zoro told him honestly. There didn’t seem to be any reason to lie. “Who are you?”

“Vice Admiral Jonathan, Commander of G-8.” Oh shit. Zoro knew, vaguely, about marine rankings from his bounty hunting days. He’d never met a Vice Admiral; they were never stationed in East Blue. The Vice Admiral gave a very pleasant smile, which nonetheless made Zoro feel like he was staring at a panther. A massive, slobbering, hungry, panther. “You, ‘Oni Hunter’ Roronoa Zoro, are under arrest.”

☉

Getting the gold back was almost laughably easy. Three cheers for Virgo.

That taken care of, and the world safe from Nami’s wrath, Lucy turned her focus elsewhere. Namely:

“What the fuck, Robin?”

Lucy stared at her crewmate, thoroughly disgruntled by the long marine coat, darkly tinted glasses, and, oh yeah, the tied-up, half-naked body at her feet.

“Inspector Major Shephard,” Robin said as if that explained anything. Grudgingly, Lucy admitted it did. “I overheard someone mention that Squad 6 is information.”

“Noted,” Lucy responded, easily summoning Gemini to copy the inspector’s form. “Thanks, guys. Is there anything that we need to know now?”

The twins looked exactly like the middle-aged man with awful skin and too-big ears. “He’s here to try and shut down the base during its yearly inspection,” the twins replied.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Robin said gratefully. “You’ll be alright, I presume.”

“Of course. If nothing pushes our hand, plan to meet up at Merry at sunset.” Robin nodded before vanishing down the hallway. Lucy turned to the twins just as they poofed out of their transformation. “Will you pass everything you found out to Shé and Crux, please?”

“Of course, Miss Lucy.”

“Be safe.”

The gate closed, and Lucy was left to infiltrate a marine base. It wasn’t hard, especially considering everything she’d heard about Navarone. She called Gemini out one more time to copy a passing patrolman, which got her the general layout of the base and the various squads. She stole a uniform and slipped into the library where all the files were kept, glad and unsurprised to find it empty. The Commander must have figured it was a waste of marines to keep it guarded.

It wasn’t a huge room, but certainly bigger than she expected. One wall had three Den Dens plugged into a few machines for faxing and the like and the rest of the room was taken up by tall shelves, shoved tightly with books, files, and evidence boxes.

Summoning Shé was easy and quick. No reason not to take advantage of this perfectly good information source.

“Right,” Lucy said, tying her hair up. “Start scanning and loading as many files as you can get your hands on, with a special focus on any information they have on us or Poneglyphs. I’ll look into how to get out of this place.”

“Very well, Miss Lucy. Would you like me to upload the Den Den connection as well?”

“Yeah, sure--wait. You can do what?!”

☉

Laxus kept himself pressed firmly against the wall, listening closely to the various puzzling conversations. One caught his ear.

“We have the Oni Hunter.”

“No way! How the hell did he get caught?”

“Walked straight into the Commander’s office, I heard.”

Groaning, Laxus broke his concentration long enough to despair about his crew. “Stars damn you, Roronoa.”

☉

Usopp stared up at the Merry, glad beyond belief that she was alright. He’d worried when he saw her being towed across the lake near dawn, but they hadn’t seemed to do anything terrible to her. It looked as if someone had even put additional repairs along her hull.

“I wonder who their shipwright is,” someone nearby muttered. Usopp turned to find a hunched old man wearing an orange jumpsuit and liberally sipping from a flask. He smelled of wood and iron and had a toolbelt hooked around his waist. Usopp felt pretty confident in guessing he was one of the dock workers.

“Oh?” Usopp asked, trying hard to be nonchalant-but-casually-interested. “You think they do a pretty good job, eh?” Nailed it.

“Not at all.”

Usopp sputtered but swallowed back his offense. Undercover, he reminded himself. Very big marine base, itsy-bitsy Usopp. Must. Stay. Undercover. “Heh, heh. Surely he’s not that bad?”

“Half the nails are bent, he didn’t prep the mast right before putting the plates up, and the hull looks like a first-year seamstress tried to play connect the holes!” Usopp felt each word like a nail to his soul, crushing his will a little more each time. Was he really so bad at taking care of Merry? “Yep,” the old shipwright assured, smacking his lips. “That ship is more loved than any I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah,” Usopp muttered despondently. “Connect the holes. Bent nails. Loved shi--wait. What do you mean, loved?”

“Can’t you tell?” the old geezer guffawed, waving one stick-thin pale arm roughly at where the ship was dry-docked. “A moron with no background in ships trying so damn hard to keep this one well cared for? What else could it be if not love for their home?”

Joy bubbled up, deep and warm. The Going Merry had been the first real home Usopp had since his mom died, and he’d be damned if he let her get too hurt. She was the ship of the Pirate King, and nothing would change that. “You think the ship knows that?” Usopp said wistfully. “That she’s really loved I mean, even if they can’t fix her up properly.”

“Oh, I’m sure. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if a ship like this has a Klabautermann.”

“What’s a Klabautermann?”

“You don’t know? Well, let me tell you all about it. See, in the old days when pirates still followed the Code and people respected their ships…

☉

Lucy slammed the latest folder closed. Her eyes were swimming, the tiny, curling letters dancing across the air. She wondered if marines had to take classes to make their handwriting as physically unintelligible as possible; if so, whoever was in charge of the local base files must have passed with flying colors.

“Shé,” Lucy groaned. “Please tell me you have something interesting to report.”

“Quite a bit, Miss.” He adjusted his glasses, the golden screen of his magic lighting up the dark room. “Two pressing facts that are rather connected.”

“Hit me with it.”

“A prisoner and something marked as ‘unknown living weapon’ were transferred to G-8 a week ago from a classified location.”

She blinked, frowning at the information. “Any details?”

“None that are filed here. There is only one note in the document. Which brings me to the second fact: a marine from HQ has been sent to pick up both the prisoner and the weapon.”

“Of course,” Lucy muttered. “Because not only did we land in the middle of a marine base, we did it while they had a top-secret prisoner with reinforcements on the way. Fan-fucking-tastic.” She buried her face in her hands, mumbling out, “When are they getting here?”

“Tonight.”

She sobbed, only faking a little. Looked like their timeline had just moved up.

“Also, Miss Lucy?”

“Yeah, Shé?”

“I just intercepted a Den Den call to Vice Admiral Jonathan. It seems as if Usopp has been captured and taken to the cells.”

Lucy sobbed harder. Why, oh why, couldn’t she have a single competent male crewmember?

She gave herself a whole ten seconds to despair before she pulled on her big girl panties and stood up. “Right,” she sighed. “I always thought this plan would be used to bust Gray out for public indecency, but I guess it’ll work just as well here. Time for Operation ‘Trojan Horse’.”

☉

In the depths of Navarone, where the few cells the prison boasted were quickly becoming full, a shadowed figure caught the distant murmur of footsteps. Humming a little tune, they contemplated how much longer they should wait.

After all, they were starting to get hungry.

#as the stars burn on #laxus dreyar #lucy heartfilia #laxus x lucy #one piece fanfic #fairy tail fanfic

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cryptid-killjoy · 2 years ago

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Shortly after Willem and Livvy set sail on the Jolly Roger a thin veil of fog would roll casually in the night over Nola, but this wasn’t ordinary fog. There was a curse floating in the mist and anyone who would breathe the droplets of fog cover would be effected. It would slowly zombify these people eventually turning them completely under the Horned King’s complete control as part of his army of the dead forced to obey his every command. Being outdoors at night or having your window open would have made a person susceptible.

Casualties of a Horned King asphyxiation spell that would fog over Nola

Arthur / Emma Robin Hood / Marian Sherwood’s Merry Men population Lil’ Noi Wulf / Agnes / Foo Foo Libi Hypno Lena Alastor Ira Isaac Jesula & most of the campers Zeke & Brigitte Mr. Kenny Lance Nigel Masses of Beagles Mulan & Xi Jax & Mazzie Honest John & Gideon Seven Cheshire King Triton This is night one. He’s not done yet. A new post will come for phase two later and the next list of victims pegged off.

It will continue later. His new hoard will gather in the swamps where Heresy made her big speech long, long ago. This time Heresy won’t be standing on the rocks over the tide. It’ll be the Evil Queen.

It may take some time for people to realize what’s happening. These are named muses but there would be thousands across the city that get up and go walking away.

#head canon #horned king shit

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ew-selfish-art · 1 year ago

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Literally, if you liked this prompt so many people have now continued it and I BEG of you to read through the notes- Anything I add to it now does not compare to the creative genius of the others that developed continuation fics!!

That being said...ehehehe...Sorry but I had a thought:

Tim is the first to call bullshit.

They arrive in this town and it’s practically drenched in references of the afterlife. Considering that Tim is literally the guy that figured out how to extract Batman from the time stream and he’s also the guy who first interpreted the letters which don’t even mention the afterlife... It clear that no one was really spying in this town. So, for this kid to suddenly be taking Damian’s ‘commands’ and following suit as though he’s LoA loyal is just... Bullshit.

But NOOO the family insists- They’re saving this poor boy who grew up in the league’s influences and trainings as a spy!! Tim just scoffs, with what supervision? He’s clearly just some dude who had a fucked up childhood.

Noooo his family insists- We need to take him home and give him the birth family that he must have always wanted! Tim rolls his eyes so hard at them as the kid’s “assignment” sister weeps her goodbyes in secret to Danny when they’re certain (lol) no one is listening.

NOOOoooo his family insists- He can’t yet know about the family legacy as Bats or the cave under the manor, he has to acclimate to being normal first! As if the kid didn’t have two friends in his corner telling him to take the opportunities allotted by being a Wayne through their tears. Tim just reads the family’s behavior as Damian being unwilling to lose the title of Robin (which, Ha.) but also knows that Danny thinks they’re hella suspicious. Did none of the bats read his folder and the subsection about Vladimir Masters??

Danny gets to the manor and isolates himself as much as possible. He’s joining them for mealtimes and saying nothing- ask about his day and he’ll talk about the weather. Damian is clearly trying his best to invite him into his own hobbies, caring for his animals and various arts, but Danny just looks at him and says, “Is that an order?” each time.

Which honestly, is hilarious to watch with Tim’s perspective that this Kid is So Done (tm) but is heart breaking for the rest of the family.

Eventually, after 4 hours of sleep and a decent number of espresso shots in his abomination of a cafe order, Tim looks at Danny and asks if he wants to take the plane back to Amity Park for the weekend.

“UH- Wh- Why do you think I would want to do that? Do you uh, need me to do that?” Danny fumbles being a ‘league trained puppet’ for just long enough that Tim smiles genuinely and devises a plan.

“Actually, yeah. Your reports were kind of shit. And obviously it’s not an order or anything, but the plane will be free and on autopilot to your town tomorrow at 10 am, and it would be dope if you wanted to uh, do recon or whatever with your friends.” Tim looks him dead in the eyes and gives him the out.

“...I mean, I’m sure my allies could use the leadership for the data collection.” Danny looks genuinely stumped but also increasingly excited.

“Cool. Have fun.” and then Tim leaves and gets to hear a near silent ‘woop!’ in the background.

Thus, Danny starts disappearing on the weekends and no one wants to listen when Tim says that it’s a good thing that he’s coming back to Gotham at all.

...

Danny, meanwhile, is trying to have his cake and eat it too.

He’s spending time with his friends every weekend, catching up with Jazz on the regular (she’s trying to get into GU and they’re all certain she will), and fighting with his rogues on a weekly basis. He hasn’t had to dip out of class in months because the Ghosts don’t want to leave amity’s ectoplasm rich environment (and don’t cause havoc without him there- and the Fenton’s hunting him is now down to one day out of seven instead of 7 of 7)- So his grades and sleep schedule are actually thriving. For as weird as the Waynes are, at least they spoil his hobby of astronomy (its the one detail he gave them about his true self). AND he’s never been more reassured that the League is actually going to leave him alone.

He starts to give the siblings a chance now that he has this kind of balance restored internally, and honestly, they’re really dorky but he can tell they all want to love him and be loved in return.

His major reason for doing so being his middle brother knowing way too fucking much for someone who didn’t grow up in the compound- but the guy totally saw through him and gave him an out to go back and forth to Amity. He’s pretty sure the rest of the family is giving Tim shit for it, so Danny might have to come up with a new cover soon but for right now he’s good.

All things have to come to an end in Danny’s life though, so it’s only a matter of time before Damian steps in and demands that Danny stop engaging with his formal life. His twin hid himself on the Wayne Plane (it rhymes and Danny loves that) and the confrontation only ended when the rest of the family minus Tim appeared from the shadows to hold an intervention.

It takes all the strength Danny has to finally do what he’s been wanting to do this whole time: Explain that they were all wrong about him being spy-brained and that he’d rather fuck off into another dimension than pretend they’re all a family together when he doesn’t even know them.

Tim arrives at this point and the rest of the family turn to him like- Did you know this whole time??

And Tim responds: “What? Like how Bruce wasn’t actually dead, and you all called me crazy for knowing that he was lost in time? You’re trying to say that none of you learned from that and continued to not listen to me?”

The family is ashen faced and Danny is mouthing the word “time?” in confusion when Tim continues staring directly at Danny: “You guys don’t even know the half of it.”

“What does that mean?” Danny challenges, not liking the way Tim smirked saying Half- Danny knows he’s probably extrapolating too far but... could Tim have figured him out?

“Well, your middle name isn’t Bill.” Tim deadpans and Danny gets the Inviso-Bill reference immediately. Fuck. The rest of the family however, is lost.

“Of course his middle name is not ‘Bill’ nor is it ‘William’ that would be unbecoming for an Al Ghul.” Damain says, clearly exasperated.

“You have a lot to learn about your twin dude, and I for one, am done trying to explain supernatural shit to you guys. Sometimes the most logical conclusion isn’t the one writing piss poor reports without a heartbeat.” Tim deadpans at first before sighing into his next points. The family pauses on that statement for a second but seeing Danny cringe- Oh fuck?? is the resounding thought.

Bruce is the first one to pull out of that Stun Lock.

“Danny, do you truly not feel as though you’re part of our family? Would returning to the Fentons...be best for you?” Bruce asks, showing the most humility he ever has in that second question.

And Danny is a bit surprised with himself, because if he’s being honest, he’s really been thriving since the Waynes kidnapped him into their lives.

“I mean... This is probably the best I’ve ever had it. I have a normal schedule and I still get friend time. I mean, short of having a government agency up my asshole, this is the safest I’ve ever been. You guys do your weirdo billionaire shit in the evenings, why can’t I just have the weekends to myself?”

“What government Agency?” Tim asks, but his feral grin gives away that he might know definitely knows exactly which agency.

“Tim didn’t you shut down another illegal government act and its sanctions two weeks ago?” Babs asks over the computer speaker on the Wayne-Plane. The rest of the family seems to think this is a normal thing and Danny is questioning all of his life choices. Who the fuck was this dude???

“Who the fuck are you dude?” Danny can’t restrain himself from asking.

“Red Robin.” Tim deadpans, and it’s a light bulb moment for Danny.

“Wait- then- You all- If He’s then- Wait. WAIT.” Danny progressively looks more and more franticly around the room. Before finally his eyes land on his twin.

“My guy. I like you so much better now that I know you’re Robin.”

“Tt. Of course you would.” Damian says easily though it’s clear he has something else he wants to say.

“If you guys are all heroes, and both the league and the GIW are gone... Would, would it be cool if I kept staying with y’all? I mean, I still want my trips to Amity and all but, uh, maybe we got off on the wrong foot?” Danny proposes with a cringe.

Needless to say, the family dynamic shifts after that day.

For the record, Tim is the family’s best detective, and he’s been given the bragging rights to say as much.

Dpxdc AU: Damian decides that it’s time to go collect his brother from his assignment. Danny is starting to sniff out some non-ghostly bullshit for once.

Damian knew his twin had been exiled from the age of seven, banished to travel and observe how scientists around the world engaged with Lazarus water. The only word that Damian received that his spare was still alive were the letters of lab reports and findings that were sent back to base. As the Heir, he’s pushed to be better lest he himself be exiled or simply executed. Danny becomes a fleeting thought and then once Damian arrived in Gotham, a none existent thought.

They weren’t raised to be friends or even friendly. The were not taught codependency or allotted time to bond. The could have been perfect strangers if not for their appearance and the stories of Danny’s shortcomings becoming Damian’s praise.

It’s only once Tim informs him of an intercepted letter, one sent and saved from years prior, that Damian recalls Danny enough to care. Tim prompts him to share more, especially given the coup recently committed by Deathstroke (Slade) and Talia gone into hiding with her zealots.

At family dinner that night Damian supplies: “I suppose I should be the one to bereave my twin of his assignment. His reports will certainly go unread.”

Chaos in the Batfam ensues- meanwhile across the country- Danny sneezes and finishes writing his yearly report: “No major discoveries aside from public record patents (attached), No assistance required. -Spare”. He doesn’t know why he bothers, he hasn’t received any contact from his mother or grandfather since he was 10ish and certainly hasnt thought about his twin. But, if there’s a chance (even an itty bitty one) that his reports are being read and are holding off his reassignment, he’d rather keep assassins out of Amity Park.

Little does he know that this letter is about to be intercepted by Pru, former assassin and friend of Tim Drake. He hadn’t expected his twin to suddenly arrive and tell him that his job was done. And certainly, seeing a plane filled with an uncomfortable looking ‘family’ that requested he join them and get to know Gotham and his birth father, was not on his bingo list.

Danny does his best to let them down gently- and they seem to be accepting that he’s acclimated to this weird little town and will leave him be- when Danny suddenly has to transform into Phantom in front of them to handle a rocket sent by Skulker.

They are less willing to accept his appeal to be left alone after that… Damian is trying to “bond” with him and all the others are trying to “help” in their own way.

Sam and Tucker howl with laughter at Danny’s suddenly very large family- all while secretly working with the Wayne’s to get Danny the fuck away from the Fentons before the scientists do something they can’t undo.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc fic #dc crossover #dp crossover #long post

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thetistaboveall · 2 years ago

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Batman: The Psychology Of The Dark Knight

The moon lights up a other wise dim alley way in the systemic unraveling of what was Gotham city.

Some unknown lower level thugs race in to a alley way breathing heavy guns in hand and backs to the wall.

The Batman is hot on the trial of two thieves who are the keys to unlocking a mystery in Gotham.

“He is coming, he’s coming”

“Calm down, he can’t take us”

“Can’t I?”

“It’s the Bat shoot”

“What a rookie mistake Dark Knight walking in to a trap.”

“Who are you?”

Batman turns to face the hidden face in the dark as he steps back and his attention falls to the goons.

The race at him causing his distraction as he fought then only to feel a needle inject in to his skin.

The serum takes effect quickly sending him in to dizzy spinning fit and he falls in to his arms.

“Hurry bois! Pick him up”

“Bring him to the lab and set him up”

“Sure thing boss”

The body is off the ground in minutes he is loading on to a elevator going to the sub basement.

Bruce’s eyes groggy as ever still under the Serbian influence can only check out his surroundings.

His eyes pick up a young man on a throne with Superman at his feet kissing his hand.

Bruce is lock inside of glass pod strap to the seat under him that is until the programming began.

The white noise enters the pod along side a orderless gas permeating his mind Bruce makes his best.

Batman fails to escape the man with a tens of millions of back up plans finally fails.

I am the young man I proudly speak in to the microphone and the command the pod to begin.

The glass is covering up in a steel case, the gas overtakes the pod, and Batman falls.

The mind confirm binary sounds attach to the low pitch sounds melt his mind breaking him.

A screen rolls down to meet his face turning on I appear on the screen.

“You are probably wondering who I am and why I am doing this?”

That same night Dick Grayson Aka Hero of Bludhaven Nightwing arrived at his old stopping ground.

“Alright show yours, who dares to call me here.”

“I dared.”

“What why? Who are you?”

“No you can’t be “

“Dad? You are dead”

“You can have him if you join me”

“Who are you?”

“I have many names, I am the ring Master for now.”

Dick can’t move a muscle standing mindless at attention feeling feel fear and excitement

The man jumps off the truck he is on in the distance landing on the ground he walks to Dick.

“What do you want from me you fiend”

“Fiend? Watch your mouth”

“Here take this bar soap”

“What bar? Stop these games”

“This one here you go”

“Nnnmmmmmmppppfff”

“Mwahahahahaha “

“You should know it would be in you best interest to join us.”

“Who’s us? Fuck you!”

“Them barf bag”

Dick is stunned to see his father figure Bruce and his idol Clark kneeling in total submission.

The Ring Master meets Dicks eyes as they glow bright blue and change Dicks eye color as well.

Dicks head is out of sorts seeing flying objects in the air and he can’t get a sense of anything anymore.

“What’s going? Why do I feel so weak?”

“You are giving in, you are embracing and you are growing.“

“No! I can’t, I won’t “

“Uuuuuuugggggghhhh”

“Take him in with you guys and prep him”

So happy with my victory I did not expect any interruptions and yet the alarm goes off.

“God damn it! Who’s that?”

“For fucks safe”

“Oh it’s the new boy wonder”

“Yuck! Uuuuggggghhh”

“I suppose better late then never”

“Speaker on”

“Hello Boy Wonder”

“Jason Todd is it?”

“How do you know my name?”

“Bruce told me”

“He would never”

“Oh yeah! He is on my team now”

“So is Nightwing”

“Liar”

“Say that to my face”

“I’m coming for you freak”

Robin uses his grabble hook shooting up

to the roof and speeding up.

On the roof top a familiar face waits in red, yellow and blow costume.

“Superman huh?”

“I could use your help “

“Oh I will help you”

“Wait! Those eyes are like his”

“He assume control over you too”

“Smart ass I see, not as dumb as you look”

“No��..let me go”

“Mwahahahahaha “

“Let’s go flying”

“Master here is “

“Pop him in the pod”

“Sir Yes Sir”

“My collection in Gotham is complete”

The end

#Hypno Zeros

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poisonedprose · 2 years ago

Text

The Vampire King 2 ♰˚‧

chapter 2 !

warnings: cursing, slight sexual tension(?)

masterlist - @thefailcollection @riffcrusader

prolouge // chap 1 // chap 3 // chap 4 // chap 5

Steve couldn't bring himself to turn around. "Ignoring me, Harrington?" He chuckled. Steve still couldn't turn around. There was no way that voice belonged to who he thought it did. The sticks in the grass began to rustle as the evergrowing amicable voice came closer. "Steve? Did you fall asleep standing up?" He laughed again, this time in the younger’s ear. He now stood mere inches away, his hands snaking around Steve's waist, drawing him closer. Steve screwed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. "It's just me, sweetheart." He whispered in Steve's ear. "Don't call me that." "Ah, so he does have a voice." Eddie mocked and let his hands slide under Steve's shirt. "Stop." Steve command, causing the shorter one's hands to stop in place right about the scars that lay on Steve's torso. "Steve!" The two heard Dustin call from the trailer, Eddie quickly pulling away from Steve to go see the boy he once held close.

"Hey, Henderson." He smiled. The shock on Dustin's face was evident, clearly not expecting to see the man he thought was dead. "Eddie? Am I hallucinating?" Dustin rubbed his eyes to make sure this wasn't some sick way of grieving. "I'm really here, Henderson. Can't get rid of me that easily." Eddie opened his arms, inviting Dustin in for a hug, which he was going to take before Eddie was pushed away. "Don't touch him." Steve eerily warned as he held Eddie against the side of the trailer. "Jealous?" Eddie winked with a shit-eating grin. "What is your deal, Steve?" Dustin exaggerated. By now, the group had piled out of the trailer in search of Dustin and Steve. "Eddie?" Robin asked as she saw a glimpse of his face. "I'd give you a proper greeting but, Harrington here is a little clingy." He laughed but Steve just stayed in silence. "Take a joke, Steve." "Leave." It was clear to everyone that Steve wasn't joking. "What?" Eddie seemed hurt? Maybe it was disappointment.

"I don't know who you are but this isn't funny." Steve pressed him harder against the wall. "Come on, Steve. I'm still the Eddie you fell in love with." He whispered with a sort of sourness in his voice, careful that the others didn't hear him. "I didn't fall in love with you. Not then, not now." Steve spoke lowly, making it clear that the kiss they shared that one night and the many others that followed, meant nothing to him. The anger in Eddie's eyes almost made the iris' seem red. "So, was it all for nothing? Did it mean anything to you?" He growled in a voice that was almost unrecognizable to Steve. "Leave." Steve commanded again. "Enough!" Nancy exclaimed as Eddie and Steve pulled apart. "We don't have time for this. We need to kill Vecna. We are running out of time. You two can play the 'mommy and daddy get divorced' game later." Nancy instructed. She explained what everyone needed to do and how to do it, pairing people up as she did.

"Sorry to interrupt, sweetheart, but that's never going to work." Eddie explained in a condescending tone. Steve hated to admit that he was right. "You need to go straight for the guy. No beating around the bush bullshit." Eddie explained further, obviously angering Nancy. "Look, we are super happy you are alive, but we have a plan." Nancy tried to remain as calm as she could. "Not a very good one. Trust me, I've been in that hell-like universe for way too long." Eddie sent a mocking sympathetic smile to Nancy. "He's got a point." Will shrugged. "I don't know who you are, but I like you." He smiled at Will who smiled back. "I think Eddie's right." Dustin agreed "What do you think Steve?" Dustin turned his attention to his role model who seemed to be staring at Eddie. At the way his hands were positioned, the way his posture was, and the way his facial expressions changed as he talked. They all looked so real.

"He's a little distracted right now. Try again in 2 to 3 business days." Eddie laughed, which Steve examined just as closely. His voice was deeper, raspier. Granted he spent god knows how long lying on that floor. Ceiling? It doesn't matter. His voice was different and Steve was sure of it. "I don't care." Steve responded still not taking his eyes off of Eddie. "You're making it obvious." Eddie sent him a wink before returning his gaze to the people in front of him. "Well then, Eddie, tell us your big plan." Lucas almost sounded annoyed that the plan was changing. "We just need the freaky telekinetic girl to fight him and win." He said matter of factly. "That's easier said than done." Mike scoffed at Eddie who gave a confused frown. "I am strong but he is stronger." El enlightened him. "Trust me, he's weak right now. I can feel it." El and Will shared a small glace. "But-" Will began before Eleven cut him off. "Then we will do your plan." Eddie looked like he had just had the biggest victory, which Steve picked up on.

Steve didn't know what he was planning or even if he had a plan or if it was actually him, but Steve had this strange feeling. When Steve looked at him, a sense of impending doom lingered in his stomach replacing the butterflies he once felt around the metalhead. Something was off and Steve knew it, but he couldn't figure out just quite what it was. Sure, being in an alternate dimension with nothing to eat or drink practically on the brink of death would change someone, but not in the way he changed. "Eddie. My name is Eddie. Not he." Eddie whispered into Steve's ear as if he could hear Steve's thoughts. Hear Steve replacing every spot for his name with his pronouns. Hear Steve refusing to let the name linger in his mind. "Eddie." Steve repeated, hating the bitterness it left on his tongue. "There ya go." Eddie leaned away from his ear, but not before licking his earlobe. Steve let any and all thoughts dissolve out of his mind for the fear that Eddie could hear them, but surely, that wasn't humanly possible.

#! 🗡₊˚✧ all hail vampire king #stranger things s4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things netflix #stranger things #stranger things 4 #steddie #eddie and steve #steve and eddie #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie angst #steddie fic #eddie kas theory

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deadsetobsessions · 9 months ago

Text

You inspired me!

Danny stared at the actual child in front of him. Yeah, sure, he’s nineteen and over the age of a legal adult. But a year dead in the ground and two in a cult does not make for a healthy functioning adult. Not that a healthy, functioning adult would be doing what Danny’s accidentally found himself doing.

Jason fidgeted the longer Danny stared at him, though those random motions were too fluid to be completely random. He’s trained. Dangerous. Not as dangerous as the new Bats going around yet still enough to make Danny cautious. Relatively, at least.

But Danny could only read sincerity in Jason’s micro expressions.

Why was he even thinking hard about this? Danny frowned at himself, which caused Jason to straighten his posture.

But Danny was preoccupied with how deep he’d fallen, unintentionally. This was the closest thing to liminal someone could get. Danny would have accepted him in no time, back before all of this stuff happened.

Ah, shit, introspection later. Budding crime lord, now.

“Why work under me? Haven’t you been traipsing around Crime Alley and building your own support? What happened to your plans?”

“You killed the Joker.”

Danny waited. If that was the only reason, Danny was going to toss this kid back into school. Danny’s really not that much older but at least he graduated high school.

Actually, he was going to do that regardless. Oh, hey! There’s the soft spot he was waiting for!

“And… it would be more beneficial, if we worked together. You have the Alley’s trust, as much as an outsider could, and I have the Alley’s trust as an insider. This operation could be more efficient.”

“But that’s not all.” Danny said, a smile beginning to tug at his lips. Jason had his head still bowed, even if his posture was more proper now. “All right.”

Jason’s head whipped up, and green-blue eyes met Danny’s blue.

“But you’ll have to do a couple of things first, to prove your… commitment to protecting the people instead of your own interests.”

A glint of determination flashed bright green, and Danny’s eyes glowed briefly in reply.

“Alright. What do I need to do?”

Danny walked past him, Jason tensing as he brushed past but he stayed still. Danny doesn’t make the mistake of thinking Jason isn’t tracking where he is right now, though. Danny reached into the drawer and pulled out a book. Morgan’s light reading, but it’s like 600 pages.

“Hold out your hand,” Danny said, trying to be imposing. It probably didn’t work, since Jason’s almost as tall as he is. Danny missed the tremor in Jason’s hand as the teenager obeyed the command, unknowing of the wild trauma running rampant in Jason’s head, nor the spiraling as Jason imagined the things he thinks Danny will ask him to do.

Danny walked back in front of Jason and plopped the heavy book into Jason’s hand.

“Wha-”

“Read it. Write a book report.”

Jason looked down at the book, expression blank.

“I can be useful. You don’t have to test me like this.”

“I’m aware of your skills,” Danny tossed out casually, mostly done posturing. Ancients, he had so much to do tonight, and he won’t even get to enjoy the moonlight fully. “That book is important to one of the charges in my care. She was rescued from an abusive household.”

“I can take care of-” Jason moved like he was reaching for his guns only to remember his hands were full of his helmet and a heavy ass book.

“They’re taken care of. That’s part one of your test. Read the book, write a report, and talk to Morgan face to face about it.”

What was the phrase? Two birds, one stone? It’s more like four birds, one former Robin. Danny won't have to read the whole book, Jason gets to indulge in his hobby without feeling guilty, Morgan gets to talk about her book, and the kids both get a new friend. Jason needs to be socialized. Desperately so.

"What is this supposed to prove?" Jason asked, becoming slightly visibly agitated.

To me? Nothing. To yourself? That you're capable of being happy again. Danny thought quietly.

Outwardly, Danny made up some plausible sounding bullshit.

"That you can be trusted around the most vulnerable. And that I can read your reports. I'm sure a former Robin-" Danny caught Jason's twitch at the title. "-would be good at giving reports. I already know you're intelligent, but this will allow me to familiarize myself on what you focus on and what you don't."

Danny patted himself on the back. That didn't sound half bad! Go Danny!

"I only need a yes or no." Danny asked firmly.

Jason paused. He nodded, grip tightening on the book. "Yes."

“Good. Second part will have to wait. I have business to attend to tonight. See yourself out, Jason.”

“What time should I come back?”

“I’ll come to you. You’re in my haunt, I’ll find you.”

With that, Jason was shooed out of Danny's "office" for the night.

Now... how to deal with the pesky assassins lurking about his haunt?

Maybe he might want to fight assassins... with more assassins?

No. Yes. Ugh, Danny gave up, going ghost and hamming up the intangibility and invisibility to go stalk the al Ghuls' shadows.

Only in Gotham is it this hard to protect the people from honest to Ancient assassins.

Danny used to be a vigilante, firmly on the side of good. Like, illegally, but morally good.

Danny’s 100% sure that whatever he is now, it’s not good.

Is Gotham’s influence just Like That?

He was homeless when he got to this thrice damned city (literally, because Lady Gotham was so cursed) and now he’s… here? In a mid-level penthouse with a rotation of homeless kids going in and out of his kitchen and eating out his pantry??

Danny adjusted the cuffs of his dress shirt, making the conscious decision to ditch the tie. He’s a tall 6ft 4 now, taking after his Dad. His head smarted all of the time, hitting doorframes when he was being a bit clumsier than the normal ghost-like grace he had learned to channel as The Phantom.

The Phantom instead of just Phantom. Why? Because Phantom was the name of a teenage vigilante in another dimension. The Phantom, on the other hand, is an intimidatingly tall, deceptively kind, extremely dangerous kingpin.

Honestly? Danny didn’t even want this life. Like, he had no idea it would snowball like this??

He supposed that it all started when the Penguin was trying to snatch kids off of his block on Crime Alley. Not officially his block, of course, because Danny didn’t actually enter this city to be a crime-shadow thing. But he hadn’t lost enough of Phantom the Vigilante to ignore kids getting hurt. He still hasn’t, if he’s being honest. He flew into a frantic search, tracking down the missing kids to Penguin’s bar. The Iceberg Lounge. Apparently, he wanted the kids to do some menial tasks and what not. Danny, rage flickering through his core, intangibly went in and robbed Penguin of every coin and secret the man kept.

Then? Danny blackmailed the Penguin to guarantee his kids a measure of safety from the Rogue. That began the slippery slope into whatever it is he does now. Penguin was being kept in line by Danny’s threats, the grip he had on the Rogue’s weak points, and a wonderful bit of intimidation.

——

“What, you stinking phantom? I’m stickin’ to yer rules!” Penguin snarled, forced to his knees by invisible blob ghosts.

Danny, salty and pissy from the lack of sleep he’d experienced trying to keep Penguin’s men in line as a result of Penguin trying to test where Danny’s lines were, dropped the temperature to the point where Penguin started shivering. Considering the place was already cold- the Iceberg lounge lived up to its name- it meant that Danny was standing nonchalantly in a room that was negative twenty five degree Celsius in a sweatshirt, Danny was already making good on his natural intimidation factor.

“It’s The Phantom to you, Oswald.” Danny said, in the tone of someone saying “it’s the shit, to you.”

Danny narrowed his blue eyes, letting a tiny tint of ectoplasm make his eyes glow a bit in the suddenly icing over room.

“Your people have been getting on my nerves, Oswald. Roughing up kids is so… uncultured. Are you sure you’re a Cobblepot?”

Penguin snarled, the effect of which was rendered ineffective due to his increasingly violent shivers. Plus, Danny loomed over him without even trying.

Danny, annoyed and asking himself “What Would Dan Do To Intimidate This Guy?”, gripped Penguin’s shoulder and hauled him up one handed. He dragged the mob boss over to one of the booths, avoiding the bodies he’d dropped (non-lethally) when Danny first walked in to ruin Penguin’s night. He shoved Penguin in chair he iced over, because Danny’s petty and if he saw one more bruise on his kids at Penguin’s hands, Danny was gonna go full Dan the Murderer.

He at least allowed to room to warm up before laying into Penguin, though. He stayed standing. Hey, he had the height advantage to use. He could have kept Penguin kneeling, but it was probably god the best that the mob boss got some sense of pride back.

(Danny had no idea that sitting as someone loomed over you to lecture and threaten you was even worse than kneeling. At least with kneeling, you knew where you stood. But sitting? It leaves you horribly off kilter.)

“I told you to keep your people in line. Kids are off limits, Oswald.”

“I kept them in line!”

Never let it be said that Oswald Cobblepot had a normal functioning sense of self preservation.

“Really?” Danny jabbed his pointer finger lightly on top of Penguin’s trachea and allowed his fingernails to sharpen into Phantom’s sharper digits. Penguin tried to lean away. “Then why did they start a gun fight when there were kids visible on the street? Why did I see one of my kids get hit by one of your poor excuses of a bouncer?”

“I-”

“Don’t care much for your excuses, if I’m being honest. I let you mess around with the little projects you have, without even breathing a whisper of your secrets. Sionis would love to know how you double crossed him the last deal, yeah?”

“I- I’ll keep them in line!” Penguin stuttered.

“Well, I believe in second chances,” Danny bullshitted. Ancients, how was this even working? “So I suggest you make an example of the guy that smacked Hailey around before I make an example out of you, Oswald.”

“Fine! Fine!”

——

And with that, he got access to Penguin’s resources and men and more importantly, the corrupt police officers. He made Penguin “boot out” the pedophilic ones (in a very violent way) and kept the rest.

Then? Mr. Freeze froze over the god damn pipes and Danny had to intimidate and make a deal with the Rogue so he and his increasing roster of orphans had access to warm water.

In exchange for Danny’s restorative and, more importantly, unmelting ice, Mr. Freeze was now Danny’s… on-call enforcer?? When he’s not researching cures for his frozen in a pod wife, that is.

Danny was satisfied with that. He was! But then Black Mask happened, with the man trying to engage in a battle of wits with Danny over the control of Crime Alley which, at that point, was firmly Danny’s territory.

The thing is, Danny doesn’t play nice anymore. Why bother with pointless mind games when he could just…

——

“So, you’re The Phantom.”

“And you’re Sionis.”

Black Mask twitched at the name, gloved hands pulling out his guns. Danny sat on the counter, head touching mid cabinet, and sipped out of Sionis’ favorite mug.

Because Danny broke into Black Mask’s safe house and stole his quality coffee. The man’s eyes were wary.

“How did you get in here?”

Danny shrugged. “Walked.”

Danny held the coffee out of the way as Sionis unloaded a clip into his chest and lunged forward to slap a mask onto Danny’s face. After waiting a bit, as Black Mask’s smug triumph bled into shock, Danny laughed and, using a bit of his natural strength, tossed the guy off of him. He casually took the mask off of his face.

“Jeez, I’m trying to be nice, here.”

“So, you’re a Meta.”

Danny grinned. “Eh. And you’re a cult leader with a mask fetish.”

Danny tuned out the rant about the “true face of Gotham” or whatever, already bored, and sipped at Sionis’ coffee. The ass might be a psycho, but his coffee tastes were wonderful. Danny stood up, rinsed his mug, and turned back to Black Mask.

“You’re trafficking people. Kids.” He said, cutting through Sionis’ chatter. He was sly about it too, committing violence and torture in a way that would ensure obedience and fear. Danny probably would have never caught on, Black Mask’s schemes being so ingeniously created and executed, had he not kept a hawk’s eyes on the more vulnerable members of Crime Alley’s community. And the rest of Gotham’s vulnerable communities, of course.

“My, a wonderfully obvious conclusion. Now, Phantom, I have a proposition for you.”

Sionis seemed to have gotten his bearings back. Danny tilted his head at him, looking down.

“You can work for me,” Sionis said, before opening a laptop with video feed to one of his masked men or whatever holding a knife to one of Danny’s more fearless kids. Danny snarled.

“Or, refuse, and your kid will lose a finger for every instance of your defiance.”

“I told you not to touch the kids, Sionis. I don’t allow trafficking either.”

Black Mask chuckled. “Cut off a finger, Sadness.”

“Yes, bos- ARGHHHH!”

Danny watched as Mr. Freeze froze the goon’s arms before breaking them.

“I’ve got her, Phantom.”

Danny nodded at Freeze, keeping an eye on Sionis in case the fool bolts.

“So, what are your cards now, Sionis? You’ve sure pissed me off with nothing to show for it.”

And that was the last night anyone heard from the one that was supposed to be the King of Crime.

But Gotham knew the head mounted on a pike at one of Black Mask’s hastily abandoned bases was a warning, that The Phantom was watching.

——

Then he somehow got a gaggle of more orphans that were undead zombie “Talons?”

From there, he just obtained influence over the crime bosses of Gotham. Because his Talons kept bringing him heads and blackmail and his crime alley kids and Gotham orphans kept bringing him information for food and safety?

But like, Danny never wanted anything in exchange for the safety he provided. His core could give less of a shit whether he got anything in return. But he couldn’t convince his kids of that! They’re putting themselves in danger and ugh-!

Danny checked himself once more in the mirror. Ready, he stepped out into the night to wait for the Bats at his new favorite VIP spots.

On the way, he passed Ivy and Harley, who he waved to. Pamela worked under him because he controlled Gotham’s criminal underground (which also mean the official parts of the city considering the sheer amount of corruption) and influenced them into more plant friendly methods. His dominion over Undergrowth also helped immensely.

Harley? They’re friends. He beat up and crippled her abusive ex. She gave him therapy and stopped torturing people for fun.

Danny stepped into the back door of the Iceberg Lounge. No one stopped him. No one dared to.

He settled onto a velvet couch, nodding respectfully at the server that had immediately and nervously set down his mai tai. He glanced around for cameras and wire taps, before giving up and upping his ectoplasmic output to short any recording devices out.

He sipped his drink as he waited.

“Batman.”

“Phantom.”

“Oh, good. You didn’t bring Robin,” Danny said, watching Batman tense. “Kids shouldn’t be in places like these.”

Batman stayed silent.

“Come on, sit.” Danny gestured to the couch across from him.

“This isn’t a social call. I’ll stop whatever you’re scheming-” Batman growled.

“Oh my god, you’re so dramatic. Is this where Nightwing gets it from?”

Batman snarled.

“Sit, sit.” Danny rolled his eyes.

Batman stayed stubbornly looming. Danny sighed, allowing his voice to slip into velvet danger.

“I told you to sit, Bruce Wayne.”

“You-”

“I won’t repeat myself again, Bruce. You’re testing my patience.”

Bruce sat, wary and hyper vigilant. Danny sighed, settling back in his chair.

“You’ve heard of Red Hood, yes? Don’t answer that, it was hypothetical. I know you’ve heard of him.” Danny waved a hand impatiently. “I don’t really care why he’s setting up shop in my Alley, but he’s upsetting the other crime lords. They’re asking me to interfere.”

“I don’t work for you.”

“No,” Danny acknowledged with a nod. “But I could make you, if you push it. Politeness would serve you much better right now, Bruce, seeing as I am doing you a… favor. And since I’m not shouting to the world who you are under the cowl.”

Danny gave Batman a pointed, patented, mom glare.

“… Apologies.”

“Now, you might be wondering what that favor is.” Danny watched Batman’s cowled face carefully. “I thought you should know that the Red Hood is your “Jason Todd.’”

Batman was still. And then Batman leapt at him, snarling, “How dare you-!”

Danny caught the vigilante by the throat and squeezed.

Batman’s flurry of punches- which, mildly ow, those gauntlets kind of hurt- quickly changed to clawing and maneuvers to get out of the choke hold. Danny held steady, cutting off the vigilante’s air supply until he began to go limp. He’s not Superman. Danny will bruise and kill, if he had to.

“Are you going to listen to me now?” Danny asked mildly, emulating both Black Mask’s drawl and Adam’s effortless psychosis.

Batman gave a weak nod. Danny plopped him unceremoniously back onto his couch. He sipped on his drink once more as he waited for Batman to cough some sweet air back into his lungs.

“I’m telling you to get your little birds in line before I have to go hunting, yeah? Keep your kids out of danger, Bruce, and I won’t have to step in.”

“He- how do you know..?” The growl isn’t there anymore, and Danny felt a smug sense of vindication of having smothered it out of the guy. Woah, no, that thought was too Dan and too little Danny. Danny handed him a cup of water, which Batman didn’t drink.

Danny rolled his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Drink. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it by now. And as for how I know…”

Danny held up a beat up copy of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility, filled with Jason’s writing. He tossed it to Batman, who caught it with blank eyes.

“Water,” Danny reminded him firmly, feeling like a mother hen. Batman gulped down his water, eyes flicking between the pages of Jason’s annotated book. Ancients, Danny couldn’t believe he annotated his book. A crime lord, like that? Well, it’s not like Danny could say anything.

Batman looked up at him, a silent demand- no, plea, because he’s not in a position to make demands- for an answer.

“Broke into his safe house. You should contact your fling, Talia. Seems like she dunked him into these “Lazarus pits” and told him you replaced him with the current Robin.”

Danny could see Batman’s emotional gears hard at work and honestly, he doesn’t have time for that.

“Now, we’re done here. You owe me one for the information. I’ll collect later.” Danny grabbed the Dark Knight, who stayed oddly unresisting (shock, maybe?) , and hauled him up.

“Tell Tim Drake to eat more. He looks too skinny.” With that, Danny dragged the Dark Knight to the window and punted him out. His kids were waiting on hot chocolate night and Danny had to go shopping for quality ingredients.

——

“YOU COULDN’T HAVE TOLD ME THE BIGGEST CRIME LORD OF YOUR CITY WAS THE FUCKING HIGH KING OF THE INFINITE REALMS?!”

“Hn.”

“BLOODY HELL, DON’T YOU GRUNT AT ME, YOU BROODY BASTARD!”

Constantine let out a scream. Shite, the king who held his soul contract was a crime lord. Great.

——

The reason intelligence and convoluted schemes and genius doesn’t work against Danny is because he’s got weird standards of what he’ll tolerate and the fact is that his normal dumbassery and mother hen tendencies cancels out and coherent thoughts or plans he might have had.

#danny: i have talons #aslo danny: i can't ask the unwillingly made zombie assassins to kill other assassins!#the league of shadows becoming the league of assassins is so funny to me #where did Damian get the naming sense from because it sure as hell wasn't from his dad or ra's al ghul #his mom probably #talia al ghul #jason is a traumatized teenager #jason todd #little does danny know jason's most favorite assignments were book reports #and those argumentative essays that relied on historical context #danny seeing jason: feral child needs socialization #gotham seeing danny: feral man needs socialization #bruce: i'm gonna look like a bat #bruce: bAtMAn

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jortsaaaaaaart · 3 years ago

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To Be Forgotten Amongst Friends chp1

Omega! Reader x avengers

Hello all! I revamped my story "ikaros" and this is the new story! Also the name is long rip.

Trigger warnings (later chapters mostly)- ptsd, noncon, kidnapping, human experimentation, Stockholm and lima syndrome

The following chapters will be posted on- https://archiveofourown.org/works/33890977 (seriously- may not post here that often cause i hate the tagging system- go check out ao3)

It's a beautiful day in New York and you're a terrible, no good, thief.

You were considered New York’s very own Robin Hood. Two hundred ATM robberies in two years, the money flying out of the machines and into the hands of people who needed it. The banks, collectively, had lost over $300,000 from the ATMs alone. But of course, it wasn't just the ATMs. A rash of robberies had spread over the East coast. Most were digital, companies funneling their own money to offshore accounts that wanted nothing to do with U.S. intervention. The FBI were notified, then the CIA, and eventually- after a daring cyber attack against the DOD- SHIELD itself turned it's one eyed gaze onto you.

Nick Fury saw something the other agencies didn't. You had certain gifts that made your line of work incredibly easy. Whether they were natural mutations or some sort of superpower, they allowed you to break into some of the most secure networks known to man. He had almost found you when SHIELD fell and his resources vanished. After the dust cleared he was forced to start from scratch. Hunting you and the remnants of Hydra down at the same time wasn't easy, but, in a strange twist of fate, he found someone else that was searching for you too.

+++

New York was filled with so many people. Most of them were good, in your opinion. (Well, maybe half, actually.) You spent most of your off time working on "projects" or walking around the city. You had become a fixture at the local Bodega. Single omegas were extremely rare, marked single omegas were almost unheard of. The mark gave you certain freedoms other omegas, sadly, didn't have. It drove away most potential suitors and the ones who were particularly bold would be given a taste of your powers. Once the burrow had gotten used to your presence they saw you as a generous person, but a secretive one. Someone who took no shit even with their designation. You gave to the community and different Omega rights groups in the area. After years of watching you quietly go about helping people you had been welcomed into the burrow's heart with open arms.

You loved helping people in your own way. You loved it just as much as you hated corporations and the police, but when you could make an ATM spew it's contents out into the poorest streets of Brooklyn or make Fox News send a million dollars to Planned Parenthood, you could have the best of both worlds.

At least, for a time. All good things had to end, right? That's what you told yourself as the redhead picked her way through the crowd towards you.

Seeing an avenger in your neighborhood was an odd occurrence. It was a poorer part of town, untouched in the battle of New York, and too out of the way for any super villain origin stories. In fact, you seemed to be the only mutant in the entire block. You'd always thought, if someone was going to come for you, it would be a couple of FBI agents and not the fucking Black Widow. Your brain and heart went into overdrive as you tried to remember doing anything worth the avenger's time. But there was nothing. The DOD hack had been almost a year ago and all you did was release government files showing attacks on civilians overseas. It hardly seemed like an avengers worthy crime, especially when Black Widow herself had leaked government secrets before.

Any hope of her not not looking for you was dashed when her eyes locked onto yours. She tilted her head, asking a silent question.

The burst of adrenaline sent you careening through the lunchtime crowds. You couldn't feel anyone on the rooftops but there was a large form blocking your path, trying to box you in. They were stronger and faster but you knew the environment. You ducked into Charlie's, your sneakers skidding on the asphalt as you took the sharp turn. The person behind the counter lazily looked up as you walked to the back. They knew you well enough to not care, they also weren't paid enough to care. The alley would open up into a busy side street. More people meant a better chance to blend in and get away. You were almost to the end when the door opened behind you. Black Widow and fucking Captain America stepped into the alley. For a moment the three of you stood in something akin to a standoff.

You felt wildly undressed for this life-threatening situation.

"We just want to talk, (Y/N)" Captain America told you, hands raised. The unmistakable stink of an alpha radiated from the captain. You were momentarily thankful for your mark dulling its effect on you. Though, the blonde's scent was tinged with something hauntingly familiar. Something you didn't want to recognize.

Behind him, Black widow's free hand went to her ear. "Target is in the alley between 31st and 32nd," A twitch of your finger and the line went dead. Her hand dropped to the gun at her hip.

"I'm feeling pretty under equipped for this 'conversation'," You replied, slowly raising your hands as well, wondering if they could feel what you were doing. They didn't react and you slowly let your power seep from you.

Natasha was the first to react, drawing her gun and spinning around. Steve looked at her with confusion as her wide eyes scanned the alley as if she was seeing ghosts. She was afraid he realized, a cold feeling settling in his stomach. He moved towards her and you took off running. You felt him hesitate then take off after you, gaining on you with an embarrassingly low number of strides. You tried your powers again, stronger this time, but his focus was unwavering. He was almost to you now and you were running out of options. That’s when the alpha in him came out.

“Omega!” He snarled, “Stop!” Your feet slowed down immediately. It wasn’t as strong as your own alpha’s command would be, but the super soldier certainly commanded respect and obedience. You were forced to stand still, eyes burning holes in the asphalt, as the alpha’s footsteps grew closer. You really didn't want to do this but it looked like you had no choice. Your jaw clenched, and you spun around when his hand grabbed your arm. The blonde's eyes widened as you placed a palm to his chest.

He barely had time to glance down at your hand before the electricity hit him.

The 1,000 volts you sent into him were supposed to stun him or send him flying, allowing you to escape. However, his muscles spasmed just a bit stronger than you intended. In an instant his grip crushed the bones in your arm and sent the two of you careening backwards into a brick wall. Natasha would find you a moment later, passed out on top of the super soldier, a sizable hole in the wall.

You woke up in an unfamiliar bed, a few blurry white shapes milled about in the corners of your vision. You couldn't remember how you got here, or where here was. All your senses seemed to be dulled. Your wrist was throbbing and each time you opened your eyes the room came in and out of focus. You closed your eyes, opting to ignore the funhouse effect and focus on the sounds around you. The beeping of the monitors, footsteps on concrete, and two low voices.

"She's alright, Buck, I promise." Steve's voice wavered in and out of your consciousness bringing with it the memory of how you got into this bed. "She did something to Nat and ran before I could explain. I wasn't expecting her powers to be so strong."

"I should have come with you," Another voice snarled. Your heart skipped a beat at the low growl. You knew that voice. It evoked a sickening combination of need and terror and you couldn't remember why. "She wouldn't have gotten hurt if I had. What idiot doesn't know omegas are fragile?!"

"It was an accident!" His voice raised slightly before sighing. "I know you're worried, but she's fine."

The scent you had smelled on Steve earlier swirled around the room. Metal and burning pine, it affected you just like the voice had, triggering both panic and yearning. You knew it somehow. The memory was there somewhere, tucked away where it couldn’t hurt you. Where it should have been forgotten.

The scent grew unbearably strong as he leaned over you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. When he pulled back he wasn't expecting his eyes to catch yours.

His expression softened as soon as he realized you were awake. "Omega," Bucky whispered reverently. Stormy blue eyes stared down at you with love and adoration, watching the color drain from your face. "Doll?"

Somewhere in the back of your mind you could hear the panicked beeping of the machines and Steve trying to calm you down. But it didn't matter. All that you could feel was the need to get far, far, away from this man. You didn't know how you knew him but you knew he was dangerous. You knew he had hurt you. That's why, as he reached out to gently cup your face, you slapped his hand away.

"Get away from me!" You gasped, voice breaking. You scooted back and tried to back up as far as possible. Your shaky legs barely held your weight as you slid off the bed. Pure terror coursed through your veins, it was the only thing keeping you on your feet. You found yourself pressed into the corner of the room while the men stared at you in shock. Steve and Bucky gaped like you had just told them the Germans had actually won WWII. Eyebrows knit together, blue eyes wide and frantic, Bucky looked like he was in emotional turmoil.

“(Y/N), doll, it’s okay. It’s me. It’s your alpha.” Bucky reached out to you carefully as a low purr rumbled from his chest.

You felt the purr relax you and dull your senses even more. It was nauseating. “I don’t have an alpha! And I don’t know who the hell you are!” You tried to shout and grit your teeth but the words came out in broken sobs, betraying your weakness. Who was this? Why was he the most terrifying thing you had ever seen?

Your teeth were bared at this point but the man kept coming towards you. The tunnel vision and rapid shallow breaths were the only warnings your body gave you as it reverted to its animalistic omega framework. Bucky watched as, in slow motion, your eyes went blank as your body gave out.

+++

Your alpha held your body to his chest in disbelief. He had expected some shock at seeing him but this went far beyond his expectations. It had been over three years since he'd last seen you. Since he'd last been able to drink in your scent. He'd figured you might not recognize him at first. He had changed a lot over the years. No longer under Hydra's control his physical appearance, demeanor, and scent had changed. But your body should've known your alpha.

"What was that?" Steve asked. "Why did she react like that when she has your mark?" The two alphas were on edge. Seeing a vulnerable omega drop triggered their protective instincts. Steve desperately wanted to take you and hold you close, ease you out of the drop. If the alpha holding you was anyone other than his closest friend and packmate he would have ripped you out of his grasp immediately. For now he'd have to hold himself back.

"She didn't remember me." Bucky nuzzled his head into your neck, nursing your mark softly. After a moment he pulled back and gazed at your unchanged features. He couldn't wake you from this drop that easily. He pressed in harder this time, teeth lining up with the scar perfectly, but there was still no change. No purr, command, or bite was waking you up.

"We should let her rest, Buck. The pain meds will wear off soon and we'll try again. . . Bring her to the den. She'll need to get used to everyone's scents sooner or later." Steve laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. It was a gentle but firm suggestion. He knew tensions were high, the den, with it's heavy curtains and plush blankets, would calm down his friend and the omega. With little argument the brunette lifted you up and carried you to the den. It was aptly named and extremely well constructed thanks to Stark. Curtains blocked off all light from the windows, mattresses were inlaid into the ground, and the temperature was always cool. It was one good thing about being in a pack with that narcissist, Bucky thought dryly.

Steve led them into a cozy corner of the room. The captain hummed happily as they moved the pillows and blankets, creating a makeshift nest for the three of them. The feeling of the omega pressing into his chest was addictive. He couldn't wait for you to remember your alpha.

The sooner you remembered your bond with Bucky the sooner the rest of the pack, Steve included, could court you.

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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years ago

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Persephone’s Symphony | Prologue | Hades

Hey lovelies— this will either be a long fic or a short series, depending on how it best plays out. I decided to upload a sneak peak— let me know what y’all think and do enjoy!!

Synopsis: In which he is the bad one— the dangerous one, the clunky one, the one who only knows how to break things— and she is the good one— the fragile one, the soft one, the one who knows how to put things back together— and he has to keep her alive long enough for anyone else— anyone who can do more than kill— to save her like she deserves to be saved— to save her from him. There are no pomegranates, no three headed dogs, and no requirement to stay— that is, if they don’t count an assassin on the loose out for her neck. In that case, three days in a safe house doesn’t feel like a long time— just long enough for Persephone and Hades to remember why opposites attract.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (third person)

Warnings: Mentions of death, at times semi-graphic, eventual smut

Word count: 2.5k (and counting)

Master List

“Barnes, you’re on protection detail.”

He must be dreaming— he must have fallen asleep with the tv on again. That’s been happening a lot lately; he’s trying to catch up on normal life. On all the shows and movies and music he’s missed throughout the years. He’s trying to catch up. Or maybe he’s just trying to drown out the silence. It doesn’t matter why, to be honest, all that matters is that he is asleep and what he is hearing and seeing are the workings of a bad dream. There was a marathon last night. Yeah, there was. Movies— a few of them. Something about bodyguards. He’s just dreaming about the movies.

Right?

Wrong.

“You’re to make sure she is secured at all times during the next three days— do not leave Miss Y/l/n’s side under any circumstances. Understood?”

Bucky blinks twice, his brows creasing as he stares down his commander, a stubby, burly man with beady eyes. It’s a trial run— he can’t say no. He wants to, he just can’t afford to. Not if he wants a job. Still, he sees no reason for this to be on him. He’s a soldier— a good one. A dangerous one. Watching over little girls isn’t in his job description. He’s a fighter— a monster.

“I need an affirmative, Barnes.”

He bites back a scowl. He’s not trying to get demoted, he knows he’s on thin ice. But, like, isn’t there anyone else? Hell— Wilson is right next to him! Surely he’s better. He’s charming, at least. A flirt. He would be perfect! Wilson would keep her safe. So would he— maybe. Definitely from the threat. From himself, though— well, three days is a long time to avoid sleeping. Even for him.

“Barnes!”

Damnit.

“Understood, sir.”

Wilson’s amused chuckles sound from beside him, his hand landing like a ton of bricks on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky contemplates the repercussions of punching the smug bastard in the middle of a briefing. It can’t be more than a pay dock. He isn’t making that much anyway, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. It would be worth it to wipe that grin off his face. But, no, he can’t. He’ll have to do it later.

“Someone’s on babysitting duty.” Wilson snickers, pressing his fist to his mouth to hide his goading from the commander. “Remember Barnes; no candy after seven.”

“Shut up, Wilson.” He grunts back, just barely stopping his metal arm from flying out and smacking him— from squashing him like the bug he is.

“Think she has a bedtime?”

“Think you could shut up?”

Wilson flexes his fingers, holding them up slightly. Just enough as to not get caught ignoring the briefing but also enough to make sure Bucky notices. “Woah—” he says under his breath, that stupid smirk still heavy in his tone— “someone’s touchy today.”

“It’s a bad decision and you know it.” He says it simply— gruffly— it is the truth after all. He’s dangerous.

Wilson’s face softens, the glee filtering from his tone. “You’ll be fine, Buck.”

Bucky doesn’t answer, he just clenches his jaw. He doesn’t want to have another conversation about this. You’re a good person. You didn’t mean to do it. It’s not your fault. It might not be his fault but he still did it. He still feels it. That makes him bad— if not morally than at least physically. He’s a liability.

“Y/n Y/l/n—” Bucky focuses back on the commander; he may as well learn what he needs to do— “the twenty-five year old heir to the biggest communications technology manufacturing companies in the world. They do dealings with a range of chief institutions including our own White House—”

If Bucky’s teeth weren’t pressed together hard enough to make him wonder if they’re going to disintegrate, then his jaw would be on the floor right now. She’s the what? Did he just say twenty-five? He can’t even remember what he was doing at twenty-five— whatever he was doing it certainly wasn’t that. Granted, he probably doesn’t really want to remember what he was doing. Soldier things. Dangerous things. He shakes his head, huffing out a breath of air.

“Her immediate family have all turned up dead within the last six months—”

Bucky flinches— this time his jaw does drop.

“Holy shit.” Wilson mutters from next to him— Bucky can only nod. No more jokes about babysitting then.

Some pictures appear on the screen behind the commander, each one more gruesome than the last. It is nothing overtly sinister— nothing he hasn’t seen before— nothing worse than anything he’s seen before. Or worse than what he, himself, has done. He shivers, staring at the photos. Two men and a woman, each with a scarlet circle blown through their foreheads. What the fuck.

“Other executives have been found dead as well—” more pictures, more bullet holes— “She is the last one. We don’t know who or why— our mission is to find out, execute, and above all keep Miss Y/l/n alive—”

The pictures change, finally showing the woman who is to be in the soldier’s care, and his heart stops. Not for any normal reason, though— not because of how obscenely beautiful she is or because of the way her eyes pierce through the junky projector as though she were actually in the room with him. Not because of how soft she looks or how he can see the pink sheen of her lip gloss or the way those glossy lips are curved into an open mouth smile— like the picture had been taken mid laugh. No. His heart stops because of how god damn fragile she looks.

In the picture she seems to be at a University with some friends of hers. They’re backed against a brick facade, shoulder to shoulder like some sort of preppy mugshot. It’s probably supposed to be comical— Wilson lets out a hmph next to him, clearly seeing it as well— but Bucky can’t find it in himself to laugh. Not given the circumstances. Regardless though the picture gives him the information he needs to know; that she is a head shorter than the males in the picture. That seems normal— a head isn’t much in the scheme of things. The size difference is nothing.

Nothing unless, of course, you’re a giant super soldier whose genetically modified to be larger, stronger, and faster than the average man. Deadlier than the average man. He won’t be just a head taller than her— he’ll be at least two. Maybe more. And that’s just the height— he doesn’t even want to think about the rest. He is going to be stuck for three days, in what will most likely be a cramped safe house, with a girl who he could potentially break by bumping into her too hard. He can see it now: he takes the corner too fast and the next thing he knows she’s sprawled at his feet, her limbs bent at grotesque angles and her glossy lips flattened. All because he didn’t think to check.

This is going to be a long three days.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As it turns out, there are no safe houses— not legitimate ones at least. What there is, however, is the Wilson’s old family home in Delacroix, Louisiana— a semi falling apart, two-story build with robin's egg blue, fading paint. It is nestled deep into the bayou, hidden meticulously between towering trees. It is miles from any main roads and on the bank of a mostly dead river. Foot traffic is scarce and boats rarely pass on sunny days, let alone during the rainy season— the season it just so happens to be. Perfect.

Well, the location is perfect. The rest is a god damn shit show.

“You ready?” Sam doesn’t look at him— he knows better than that, opting instead to continue staring out at the bayou from behind the wheel.

Bucky, hunched over in the passenger seat, eyes also locked on the blue home, shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t really have a choice, do I?”

Sam sighs and Bucky tries not to tense at the sound. Please, not another lecture— not right now. He tries to ignore the man, gaze pouring over what he assumes is supposed to be a charming porch. Under a dim but sturdy awning there waits a white swing with a long bench seat and some floral pillows. Across from it are two rocking chairs swaying softly in the Louisiana breeze. One has a matching blanket draped over the back. It is supposed to look cozy— he knows it’s supposed to and he is sure to everyone but him that it is cozy. To him, though, it looks like everything he doesn’t have. Like warmth and sunny days and peace. Things he wants and things that make his skin crawl because of how foreign they are to him.

“You’re not going to hurt her.” Sam taps his hand on the wheel, sounding out a pattern that plays more like bullets ricocheting through the cab of the truck than whatever melody it actually is.

Bucky grinds his teeth together. Now he’s looking at the window beside the porch. Is it a kitchen? A mudroom? A den? He isn’t sure, there’s a white curtain pulled across the frame, blocking his vision from whatever waits for him on the inside. Blocking his vision from her. For a moment he thinks he sees the curtain move— a shadow of a hand passing along the edge. He turns away— he doesn’t want to scare her if she’s trying to size him up before they meet. It’s the least he can do. God only knows how terrified she already is.

His stare lands on Sam— an invitation for the soldier to finally look away from the bayou. “But I could, right? That’s what matters here— I could hurt her.”

“No, Buck, you couldn’t— you wouldn’t. You aren’t evil or whatever it is you think you are.” Sam raises a brow and Bucky scowls— it always feels like he’s in his head.

Of course he would never tell Sam Wilson that— like a dog left to fend for himself, he would rather fight.

“Don’t pretend like you have any idea what I think.” He can’t find it in himself to feel guilty for snapping— isn’t that what wild animals do?

Ever the patient animal rescuer, Sam rolls his eyes at the bite. “You’re a good man, Barnes.”

Bucky stares back for a minute, not sure how to even broach an answer, before breaking, snapping his gaze back to the inviting home— his kennel for the next three days. He clenches his jaw, trying not to slam his head against the dashboard for being an idiot. Even Bucky understands that it’s bad when he breaks the stare first— he’s been told before that he has a staring problem. He just doesn’t want to look Wilson in his eyes and explain to him exactly why he’s wrong. Maybe it’s just easier to let him think what he wants.

“Whatever.”

Maybe he wants just one person to truly believe that he isn’t the bad guy— even if he doesn’t believe it himself.

“I thought old people were supposed to be mature.”

Bucky flashes him a forced grin, one that tastes like the three hours of sleep he got last night and the five hours of self-loathing, shoving open his door and following it with his foot. “That’s me— the mature one.”

Sam barks out a laugh; either Bucky’s grimace— grin— worked or Sam is choosing to ignore it. “You’re old, not mature— there’s a difference, pal.”

“Hmph.” Bucky jumps out of the truck, yanking the duffle bag over his shoulder as his boots sink into the spongy grass.

His skin dampens immediately, a combination of the marshy climate and the grey clouds hanging above his head. A few droplets fall against his face and he slings a hand over his brows, turning towards his fate for the next three days. Without the barrier of the truck between him and the house, he almost feels like a normal man again. The weak, destructible kind. Theoretically, if the house were to fall on top of him right now he would survive. He would be pinned under the rubble, yes, but alive. It just doesn’t feel like it— it feels like he would be crushed. It makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end— his hackles rising as he tries not to bare his teeth— or fangs— at this new kind of threat. If only people could see him now; The White Wolf afraid of a charming, bayou home.

What a joke.

He shakes his head, pushing the passenger door shut with a sharp clang. Of course he isn’t afraid of a house— then he really would be an idiot. No, he is afraid of something else entirely— something much more sinister. Bucky is afraid of suburbia; of normalcy. What, with a metal arm and a brain hardwired to kill— it only makes sense he would also be programmed to steer clear of anything half-way decent. Especially pretty, fragile girls with glossy lips. Fuck. He squeezes his eyes closed, his vibranium fingers clenching around the strap of his bag. What is he even doing here?

A familiar, mechanical buzz fills the air and he cracks an eye back open in time to see Wilson leaning his head out of the passenger window. “Look, man— it’s three days. The fridge is full, the wifi is on, and it’ll rain so much she’ll probably nap the entire time. Pretend you’re at home doing whatever it is you would normally do. You’ll be fine.”

Bucky nods, sticking to his guns and letting the soldier believe what he wants. He tells himself again that it is because it is easier that way. “I gotta go, Wilson.”

With that he pushes his way to the door. His feet sink further into the grass with every step, curling around his ankles as though trying to warn him against entering the house— or trying to save the poor girl inside. He can’t decide. Warning or trap. Both. A warning for her— the princess; the little girl in the forest— and a trap for him— the rabid wolf. He steps onto the porch, his boots echoing off the concrete. To him it’s booming. He doesn’t want to think about what it must sound like to her, especially with everything the commander said she’s been through. A giant coming to kill her is his guess. Movement to the left catches his eye, the curtains shifting again, and his neck flushes.

“Hey Buck?”

He sighs— again— and turns over his shoulder for what he hopes is the last time— he just wants to get this over with. “What, Wilson?”

He knows before the man speaks that the cheshire grin on his face can mean nothing good— still he waits for the answer.

“Remember to tiptoe.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky fic #mcu #mcu fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #mcu imagine #marvel cinematic universe #Persephone's Symphony

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maxwell-grant · 3 years ago

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Would you consider Hugo Strange a pulp villain?

Yes. And I would argue that he didn't really stop being one even after his revival.

"Professor Hugo Strange, the most dangerous man in the world! Scientist, philosopher and a criminal genius - little is known of him, yet this man is undoubtly the greatest organizer of crime in the world! - Bruce Wayne, Detective Comics #36

Hugo Strange was created with the intention of being Batman's arch-enemy right from the start, introduced as such by Bruce when he figures out he's responsible for the G-man assassination, pretty explicitly intended to be Batman's Moriarty and with even an equivalent demise. He was big enough to tower over his henchmen and fistfight Batman, he had a uniquely deformed skull, he was both a charismatic but threatening crimelord as well as a mad scientist plotting to TAKE OVER THE WORLD, and I've heard before the argument that the Monster Men were taken from a Doc Savage novel released earlier the same year called The World's Fair Goblin that revolves around a giant mutated man doing crimes under command by the story's villain

That poor devil, Maximus, was a Fair visitor himself, once. He was given injections of thyroxine and adrenalin—and changed rapidly into a pituitary giant. But, in the experiment, his will power was destroyed. Now he only follows the directions of that masked devil who has him hypnotized

He said, "The Man of Tomorrow stuff was merely publicity to draw the Fair crowds—and a shield to cover your own experiments. But the masked surgeon cashed in on it. Obviously he is mad enough to really believe a superman can be created." - The World's Fair Goblin

(Considering Lester Dent had taken potshots at Superman explicitly in "Whisker of Hercules", it's not unlikely that this is an explicit reference)

Although there's really no overlap in the stories besides that, as The World's Fair Goblin only had one giant where as Hugo mutated a couple dozen mentally ill patients to create monsters and then used them to go on mass murdering rampages, because Batman has always been over-the-top. But, yeah, original form Hugo was a pretty cut and dry pulp villain, like most of Batman's villains who debuted prior to 1940. Which is part of why he only had about 3 appearences before they killed him off.

By this point, Batman was in the process of moving away from his pulp knock-off origins into more of his own character, with the introduction of Robin and Dick Tracy cartoon villains that would set the tone for the rest of Batman in the Golden Age, and with the debut of Joker and Catwoman in Batman #1, Hugo was already obsolete as an arch-enemy, and was killed off the following appearence.

Of course, if you know Hugo Strange, you likely already know this, and that he was then revived in the 70s by Marshall Rogers with a brilliant take that stuck to the character's origins as a brilliant crimelord and scientific genius, but also added to him a specifically twisted psychological bent of being obsessed with Batman and becoming Batman, a villain of unshakeable will and even a twisted sense of honor and ethics, refusing to divulge Batman's secret identity even while beaten to death.

And from that moment onwards Hugo would go on to have some of the most consistently brilliant appearences out of any Batman villain (at least until the 2010s) and would secure himself as a mainstay, albeit a very obscure one, figure of Batman, the kind of villain whose plots can range from Born Again-esque subtle destructions of a person's life to a rampage of mutant kaijus on downtown Gotham, and like many of the best Batman villains, it all comes back to a central obsession and psychological edge upon Batman, and the weaponizing and destruction of anything that stands in his way.

You could argue Hugo Strange used to be a cut and dry pulp villain who was eventually reimagined as a Batman Villain, and it would even be somewhat fitting of his in-universe trajectory as a man who started out a career as a figure of prestige and respect, effortlessly able to blend in society, until his repeated encounters with Batman and, most importantly, his gradually increasing obsession with becoming Batman, gradually destroyed him until he's no longer the one ruling the madhouse, but instead trapped in it.

But the reason why I'd argue Hugo Strange is still a Pulp Villain is because his reinventions didn't shed away what he used to be, they merely returned him to his true origins. Because Hugo, you see, is not just a Mad Scientist or Mad Psychologist, Batman's got those by the dozens. Hugo is of a particularly nasty kind of Pulp Villain, who came to existence around the same time as the Mad Scientist if not slightly earlier, an archetype Jess Nevins has named The Evil Surgeon

Medicine has arguably thrown up more serial killers than all the other professions put together, with nursing a close second - Herbert Kinnel, former chairman of the British Medical Association

The Evil Surgeon came to existence as a pop culture archetype in the late 19th century, as the result of serial killers like Jack the Ripper and H.H Holmes making the news, with Doctor Quartz from Nick Carter being first and foremost among these, as the main arch-enemy of the most published character worldwide at the time.

He would be followed years later by H.G Wells's Doctor Moreau, and the likes of Dr Caresco and Professor Tornada, the stars of novels created by André Couvreur, who was himself a medical doctor and used these novels to both condemn the characters as well as give serious consideration to the ideas they explored, and depicted Dr Caresco's over-the-top exploits harkening back to stories about Marquis de Sade (the origin of the term "sadist"). These would be followed by characters like Grigorii Trirodov, Dr Cornelius Kramm, Dr Gogol from Mad Love, currently the most famous example of this seems to be Hannibal Lecter. And Hugo has been operating much more along the lines of those characters in the last decades, than the typical mad scientists he was once designed in reference to.

Of course there's a massive overlap between the two and room to dispute whether they even constitute separate archetypes, they practically came to existence together following the footsteps of Victor Frankenstein, who really isn't a true example of a Mad Scientist in the original novel, and wasn't even a real doctor, but Frankenstein's reputation undeniably is the oldest cultural touchstone we can point to as an influence in the archetype, even if said archetype would only truly take form in pulp magazines and serials.

What I'd argue defines the Evil Surgeon as an archetype specifically, is that they are specifically centered around the violation and destruction of the human body and function more as murderers with budgets, than supervillains in labcoats. Mad Scientists are generally more centered around plots closer to sci-fi/fantasy inventions like sentient robots and immortality potions used for large scale global domination, where as Evil Surgeons are more preoccupied with wielding psychology and torture and criminal resources to get away with destroying minds on more individual scales, or turning cities into slaughterhouses for them to work in.

They aren't quite full blown slasher villains, like Zsasz or Professor Pyg, instead they usually tend to be quite good at passing off as respectable, mentally sound figures of moral standing, and usually possess a sense of purpose towards their work, a goal they are working for by piling corpses atop each other and moving resources to achieve, even if said goal is a purely selfish fulfillment of their own desires. It's quite common for these characters to acquire large bases for them to operate in, even islands specifically.

In Caresco Surhomme, Caresco has taken control of the Pacific island of Eucrasia. Caresco applies his surgical methods to the inhabitants of the island, altering them to better do their jobs. The captain of the plane which brings outsiders to Eucrasia is a limbless trunk with telescopic vision. Even the island itself is in the shape of a human body. The natives of Eucrasia are addicted to various sensual pleasures and generally submit to Caresco’s rule, for fear that he will castrate them or worse.

On Eucrasia, Caresco makes use of “omnium,” a mysterious and unexplained power source, to create: a machine capable of stripping the years from human bodies and reversing the aging process, a fast underground train system, food pills, omnium-powered diving suits, and so on. Caresco is given to such things as collecting the spleens of all those he operates on - Jess Nevins, The Encyclopedia of Pulp Heroes

So, yes, I absolutely would argue Hugo Strange is still a Pulp Villain. Pulp villains do come in many different forms other than the Fu Manchus and Fantomases that are most commonly imitated, pulp was the breeding ground of the supervillain as a concept after all, where they got to star in their own magazines time and time again. Hugo started off as a fairly generic one, and when he's written poorly, he tends to be brought onboard of a story purely because it calls for a mad scientist.

But Strange came back from death as something much, much worse than just a crimelord and mad scientist, a much more rare and much nastier type of villain that, much like Hugo himself, may lie dormant, but refuses to stay dead for long.

"Quincy. My servant. My friend," Hugo said. "We don't have much time."

Quincy was crying again, with joy. "How, master, how did you-?"

The therapy, Quincy realized. The hypnosis. The drugs.

"Stay with me master, please!" Quincy tried to grab hold a phantom hand.

"I cannot." Strange said, looking benevolently down at Quincy, stroking his hair with a touch the prisoner couldn't feel. "But there is one last service you can perform me."

"Anything, Hugo, please."

"First, remove the sheet from your bed, Quincy. And tie it to the light-fixture on the ceiling."

#replies tag #batman #dc comics #hugo strange #dr jack quartz #pulp villains

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