#But this would probably be a fic where Danny is de-aged to the age he died from 17 and thrown into DC | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

transparentgayprotector · 5 months

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Lazerus water is Poop water.

Okay hear me out.

Hear me out, Lazerus water is always compared to sewage in DpxDc fanon, why not go all the way?

Danny might have to destroy some Lazarus Pits because of the Rats but he's not happy about it.

Since he always said they stink can I tell you what I think they are to him and everyone else in the Infinity Realms?

Pariah Darks Poop and Pee. He was the only one who didn't have a sewage system because he was too busy being a bitch.

That's why the color is different, like digested food looks different out of your body.

Danny can tell people when they finally ask him that too.

Danny: Yeah they're bathing in the waste of the old King. The reason your acting like shit is because you've got literal shit in your chest. Gross.

The Old King was a big gu who most likely had a some holes he would just poop in on some random dimensions planet.

When the pits were put there, humans probably were small in number, and many animals stay away from waste matter in large quantity, except Rats and roaches, which The League of Assassins are now.

Damian attitude changed because he got away from the sewage and started eating Real food(Natural Ecto).

Jason was dumped in Shit after being brought back to life by the natural Ecto, but Gotham is so cursed he kinda needed a minute to process his food because he was given too much, Like a feast when your stomach is small.

That's why his mood swings were so severe. He was given good food then forced to eat shit. He's constantly trying not to vomit (pit rage) because he'll lose the good food too and probably die again. Or constipated. Yeah he's also ghost constipated because of the Lazerus Pit.

Anyway, essentially The League of Assassins are Rat people, Ra's is the King of the Rats and Now Danny has to deal with them.

Will Danny's poop do the same thing? No, because he's half human and poops in much smaller quantities than a guy the size of a building while using a proper sewage system in his paranoid parents house.

They most likely do something to the sewage anyway. Danny too after he looks at the Rat People bathing in ghost poop.

Plus, he never uses the Bathroom in his ghost form, only him human one.

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jotaroslooseeyebrowhair · 1 year

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I’ve had this idea in my head for days now and it just won’t LEAVE so here have scraps

So we know those de-aged au’s with Danny right, and the ones where Jason adopts him? YESSSSSS so anyways the thing that’s been ravaging my brain like an anteater on crystal meth is:

So all night has been pretty shit for Jason. Drug dealers, a couple muggings (who even goes out anymore in crime alley, at this time of night???????) and some human traffickers. You know, the usual. So anyways he’s pissed. Not to mention when he comes across some bastard who’s beating his family, jason promptly broke his legs in a couple new ways he liked. Later, deep into the night he’s already seeing a bit of green around the edges and he’s already called in dick to cover some areas while he cools off, so, naturally, as it is in crime alley, something goes horribly wrong that gets him pissed. Beyond pissed. He sees green and only when dick drags him away does he see some red too. A lot of red.

Fuck.

Well, he knows exactly what he has to do, so he pushed dick off of him and starts roof-hopping over to his apartment (where did his bike go?) and dick calls in the others thinking Jason’s going for more weapons/ammo or smthn, and Jason gets to his lil place and carefully opens a window, trying to be quiet because even though he’s in a killing mood he doesn’t want to wake Danny up, what kind of monster would do that?

Anyways Jason’s taking a moment with his helmet off, leaning his arms against the counter to calm himself down taking deep breaths he learned from Danny yes okay he learned from his son when Tim and dick crash through and Jason gets a little more pissed because those assholes probably just woke up Danny!

So here’s Tim and dick wrestling with Jason to get his weapons off of him and calm him down when all of a sudden the lights flick on and there’s a little boy, around 6, with a messy mop black hair and loose space-themed pajamas, rubbing his eyes as he clearly just woke up. everyone freezes in place and Danny looks around, his eyes adjusting to the light before he looks at Jason and–

“Dad? What’s going on?” He asks so innocently with a tilt of his head. While his brothers are stunned to silence Jason shrugs them off as hard as he can (they woke up his son) and walks over to Danny. Dick and tim lurch foreward but Jason just picks up Danny and places him on his hip. Danny reaches forward and carefully pulls off his dads domino and holds it in his hand while he frowns. “Green monsters are being angry again?” And Jason just sighs with his son (his son!!) in his arms and looks at danny; dick and Tim now seeing the green almost completely gone from his eyes.

“Yeah bud. No big deal though, alright? The green monsters are all gone now. So come on, it’s past your bedtime Danny.” To which Danny groans and he turns to look at the two others in the room who are bewildered as fuck because does Jason have a kid????? W h e n?? H o w??? Okay they know how they really don’t but that’s not the point

Anyways they stand there for a minute while Jason puts Danny to bed and when Jason comes back out he stares at them in silence. Then he just *sighs* and stares them dead in the eyes “yes, I have a kid. Yes, he quiets the pit. Yes, it’s past his bedtime. And yes,” Jason cocks his gun, “you both will be getting out of my apartment. right now. Silently.”

Yeah, they guess questions can wait till tomorrow

Link to the fic :)

#dick is just excited to meet his nephew #Tim is thouroughly confused as to when Danny happened #word of Danny spreads through the family like wildfire and they all come over to see Danny #he’s a little shy at first but his aunts and uncle can do BACKFLIPS so it’s okay :)#Bruce is beyond bewildered that he has a grandson but by god if he isn’t gonna spoil the fuck outta that little blue eyed bastard #Alfred is ESTATIC #dc x dp #dp au #Jason Todd adopts Danny #danny phantom #jason todd #Jason Todd dad au

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little-pondhead · 1 year

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Rejected Threads Pt. 1

[This is a series where I post the bits and pieces I decided to cut out of their final fics due to various reasons. I welcome anyone who wants to pick this up and make it their own. You do not need to ask for permission to use it, but I would like to be tagged in whatever you make. Just so I can see it :) ]

[Everything here is unedited and may ramble at times. Enjoy!]

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Okay, so maybe Danny still had a thing or two to learn about being a ghost. It’s not his fault, really! Being dead doesn’t exactly come with a pamphlet introducing you to the afterlife! Although if his friends were here, they’d just berate him, saying this whole issue could have been avoided if he used his common sense, not his ghost sense. Which is fair. He’d give them points for that.

But come on. How was Danny supposed to know about the GIW’s latest invention? Honestly, it felt so cliche that Danny wanted to smash his head against a wall. He’d been hit by a shrink ray. Except it didn’t work right on ghosts, because it was made by normal people who’d never even seen a drop of ectoplasm in their life, so instead of shrinking him it de-aged him. He looked like a four-year-old! Ancients, he was never going to hear the end of this from Jazz.

Well, that was if he ever managed to make it back home.

Right now, he was leading the rogue government agents through the streets of some damp city jungle, swinging through gargoyles and avoiding blasts with a few nudges from the city spirit here and there. A few pedestrians screeched from the ground level and had to dive out of the way of the GIW’s armored van, but Danny was confident they wouldn’t be seriously hurt. A constant stream of energy was flowing between him and the city spirit, giving the spirit the strength needed to pull civilians away from the fight with a few shadowy fingers. In exchange, Danny was suddenly living life in the third person. He could see for miles around him, feel the heartbeat of the city underneath his fingertips, and hear the quiet whispers of children and shades settling down for the night. The city spirit was everywhere and had no problem lending their senses to Danny so he could get away. He knew he’d have a headache later from overstimulation, but right now it was a godsend.

From his enhanced view, Danny saw one of the agents lean out of their van, raising a gun toward his shadowy figure. They fired. He dodged. Is this how flies felt? Everything felt way too slow, and he could run circles around them with ease. Maybe once Amity’s spirit developed more, they could lend a hand like this one was. It was incredibly useful, if not draining. He probably wouldn’t have been hit by that stupid shrink ray in the first place if he could see behind him. Ope, Danny refocused his thoughts, almost missing the next swing. He should be paying attention more.

Where should I lead them? Danny asked the city spirit.

The spirit took a moment to reply, struggling to form human words. North. To the park.

Gotcha. After a moment, a thought crossed his mind. What’s your name?

…I am Gotham.

Nice to meet you, Gotham. I’m Danny Phantom.

Danny. The little king of the stars.

“What? No!” Danny was so startled by Gotham’s words that he really did miss the ledge of a building this time, falling like a dead weight for about twenty feet until he caught himself. He still stumbled as his feet hit the pavement, but it was a lot better than becoming a smear. Danny glanced around frantically, but there was no one on the street and he was still invisible. He could hear the screech of tires a few blocks away, almost missing the turn as the agents tried to follow him.

Now that there was some semblance of a plan in place, Danny needed to keep these guys on his tail rather than lose them. The shrink ray put off some very nasty vibes, which is how the GIW was tracking him, but maybe they could use a little guidance. Danny rose into the air once more, and at Gotham’s prompting, shot an ectoblast high into the sky, letting it explode like a firework far away from any buildings.

The Bats will notice, but this is the only way. Gotham remarked. It was getting easier to understand them the more they talked. I will hide you if it is your will.

Green eyes tracked the process of that damned white van for another two blocks, just until Danny knew their scanners would pick him up once more. Then he was off like a rocket, starting their little game of tag all over again as he led them closer and closer to the menacing grove of trees in the distance. Who are the bats? He silently asked.

The Bats. My knights.

You have knights?? That’s so cool. Danny panted, swerving to the left. His form flickered for just a moment, putting him onto the visible spectrum for a mere second before he was gone again. Don’t worry about me, I’ll hide myself for now. Once they’re gone from your borders. You should rest after this, I can feel the strain this has on you.

Little king is tired as well. Keep your strength.

Nah, I’ll be fine, Gotham. You were kind enough to offer me refuge until I figured things out. The least I can do is take care of my host.

Hm….

Gotham’s mind retreated from his own for a moment, pulling back so he could focus on the fight. Danny appreciated it. He finally reached the trees, shadows extending to greedily pull him into the depths of the park. Danny obliged, letting the shades and wayward spirits guide him toward the center of the property. The GIW was still hot on his heels, plowing down vegetation like it wasn’t even there. A ripple ran through Gotham like they were waiting for something, and Danny almost stopped to see what the issue was, but Gotham just kept nudging him along. Danny trusted the other spirit and floated silently next to a gnarled and crooked tree that stank of chemicals and twitched whenever he turned his back. Beyond the tree was a vast patch of land filled with mutated plants and dense fog that Danny definitely did not want to breathe in. There was a broken down and shabby glass greenhouse in the distance, the source of the plants and fog. Well, this was as far as Gotham wanted him to go, so this was where he’d make his last stand.

The GIW agents tore into the clearing, skidding to a stop a few meters away. Out climbed three men, guns charged and already pointed at him.

“Reveal yourself, Phantom! We know you’re there!” One of them, Danny remembered him as Agent R, barked. His gun was the biggest, and Danny was sure he’d be the hardest to dodge. Gotham shushed his thoughts, calming his nervous core, and told him to wait. To stall.

Stall for time? He could do that. “You’re so mean!” Danny flipped upside down, fading into existence. He gave the men a sharp grin, one too shark-like to be human. “We were having such a fun game of tag! Why can’t we keep going?”

Agent B, a short guy with a bright red mustache, stepped forward and jabbed his weapon toward Danny. “This is not a game, ghost!” He squeaked. “You are in violation of section two, paragraph three of the First Anti-Ecto Act. By order of Agent Alpha, you are hereby under arrest for unlawful-”

Danny snorted. “Sorry, Agent Alpha? What, is his first name Chad? Is his boyfriend’s name Omega?”

“His name is Mike Foxtrot! You insensitive bastard!” Agent B spat.

“Agent B!” The third man, who was probably their leader, slapped a hand down hard on his subordinate’s shoulder. Danny didn’t blame him. This was the most information he’d ever managed to worm out of them in less than two minutes. He mentally pats himself on the back for the new record.

“Listen, guys.” Danny raised his hands in faux surrender. “You may have turned me into a preschooler, buth-” He blushed violently. He bit his tongue, ruining the intimidating effect he was going for. “But I can still kick your ass seven ways to Sunday. Whaddya say we leave it at this for now?”

“Absolutely not, Phantom.” Agent R ordered. “You are to come with us quietly or we’ll be forced to use extreme force.”

“Extreme force?!” Danny shrieked, losing his smile. “You already use extreme force! I’m a fucking kid, you psycho!” Rage built in his chest, and green made his vision swim.

Let it build. Gotham urged. Let yourself cry.

Danny sniffed, still ranting. “And now that I’m an even smaller kid, you want to arrest me?! What did I even do wrong?”

“You are a class 7 ecto-entity, Phantom. Your very existence is illegal and dangerous.”

Danny let a few tears drip from his eyes, falling onto the weird plants below. A few flowers twitched out of the corner of his eye, turning to face him like a human would. The trees surrounding the cleaning seemed to lean in, looming ominously as their roots thrashed under the dirt. They were trying to reach for something, but Danny didn’t mind it. Gotham whispered that the plants were no danger to him right now, so he just kept working himself into an emotional frenzy. “I DIED!” He cried. “IS BEING DEAD A CRIME NOW?!”

Gotham shivered. Wail. They instructed. Danny did.

“WHY DO YOU KEEP HURTING ME?!” His scream echoed throughout the city, carrying all the pain and anguish he could muster on such short notice. The connection he had to Gotham strengthened for those few precious moments, supplying him with enough energy so he wouldn’t pass out and transform. He did, however, collapse into the crooked tree, barely noticing how the branches seemed to cradle his limp body. The agents were blown back from the force, tumbling head over heels as their weapons were lost in the wind and their van tipped over. The nearest trees suddenly burst forth with staggered movements, surprising even Danny. Dirt was thrown everywhere as roots reached up to grab the men, restricting their movements to an almost painful degree.

This whole thing was so unexpected that Danny just kind of sat there, being cradled like a baby by the creepiest tree in existence, listening to Gotham’s victorious hums as the GIW agents struggled against their new bonds. More roots took on a life of their own, twisting and bending their way through the van, smashing all the equipment, and tearing apart weapons without hesitation. It was just so bizarre. Small footsteps from behind made Danny’s ear twitch. He glanced over his shoulder.

Approaching him from the fog was a beautiful woman who looked like she’d been made of plants herself. Her hair was a startling red, similar to Jazz’s, and her skin was such a rich and vibrant green it couldn’t have been body paint. Strands of ivy and flowers of all sorts were woven into her hair and clothes. Danny almost pegged her for the reincarnation of Gaea but thought better when he felt none of the Realm’s influence in her soul. No, this was a mortal woman who felt more like a daughter of Undergrowth than Sam ever did. He didn’t feel afraid, however, and instead allowed the tree to lift him to eye level with the woman.

Pamela Lillian Isley. Gotham whispered excitedly. My precious gardener.

“I am Poison Ivy,” The woman declared. “What are you doing near my lands, kid?”

Danny rubbed the tears out of his eyes furiously. “Sorry,” he sniffed. “I just-they were-” He broke out in hiccups, and couldn’t complete his sentence.

Poison Ivy, for her part, was curious about this obviously meta kid who’d stumbled across her beloved greenhouse. It wasn’t hard to feel the disturbance from all the way across the city, and her pace doubled when she felt a child’s tears fall onto one of her ferns. She didn’t despise children, and so had no plans to hurt whomever she found. But she knew that the fog surrounding her precious greenhouse was toxic. Then she’d arrived just in time for the kid to let out the most inhuman cry she’d ever heard. It was full of anguish and pain, shaking her to the core. It sounded like the kid was dying. She wasted no time capturing the three men who were hunting the kid, using the roots of nearby oak trees to give them a little squeeze. As an afterthought, she also destroyed their equipment and van. Everything looked a little too high-tech for her liking. The kid looked worn out, dazed, and exhausted. She made sure the tree he was in held the boy gently while he stammered, struggling to answer her question.

“They don’t like me. They -hic- keep trying to hurt me.” Danny finally managed to settle on a response. Poison Ivy gave the three men a deadly stare. How could they hurt such a tiny kid?!

“Well, I don’t know how to help you kid, but I can direct you toward one of the Bats. They’ll probably take you home.” She said, still staring straight into the eyes of one of the men. He seemed especially uncomfortable with the vines wrapped around his torso.

The kid shook his head adamantly. He floated gently upwards, an apology dripping from his lips. “Sorry, but I’ll find my own way back tonight. Feel free to do whatever you want to those men, they’re mean to me so I don’t care. And thank you for your help, Miss Isley.”

Startled by the use of her real name, Poison Ivy turned back to where the kid had been floating, but he had disappeared without a trace. Because of course he did.

She sighed, turning back to her prisoners. “Now what should I do with you?” She asked to the empty air. The only response she got was a rustle in the wind and a grunt of frustration from a man with a red mustache.

---

Final ficlet can be found here: Kicking Names and Taking Ass, All Before Naptime

#rejected threads #danny phantom #dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc

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sholiofic · 5 years

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Er. So. First of all, I posted a de-aging fic for Danny a little while back, in which Danny is five years old but still has his adult memories (with all the trauma THAT implies). In the comments, @asofterhibou suggested de-aged Ward. Well, specifically:

I had the horrifying thought of what if Ward was the five-year-old the next day, but that is almost TOO heart-breaking. Like I can only imagine that the first half hour is just Ward curled up in a ball under the hotel room bed while Danny lies on the floor and talks quietly to him to get him to come out.

I swear I was just going to write a couple paragraphs of this, and then suddenly there was like 1900 words of it. (I’m not really sure if this is canon relative to the other fic; it’s more like a what-if spun off from it.)

Seeing Ward as a small child was almost too strange. Danny didn't remember him like this at all. Their five-year age difference had loomed impossibly huge in their shared childhood; his earliest memories of Ward were of the other boy being so much bigger that he might as well have been a grown-up, a source of both torment and protection, fear and comfort. Danny had been scared of him and admired him in equal measure.

It was an extremely disconcerting perspective shift to suddenly be the bigger one, the older one; it was hard to see Ward as a little kid and not see a ghost of the adult Ward superimposed over it, like looking at childhood photos of your parents.

Not that Danny had seen much of him yet, since Ward had been curled up under the bed for most of the last hour. He wasn't crying -- in a way, Danny thought it would have been less worrying if he was crying. At least it would have been more normal five-year-old behavior. Instead he was just curled up shivering. Ward's adult memories weren't something that Danny would wish on his worst enemy, let alone on a little kid.

Danny had given up on talking (much) and just decided to lie on the carpet next to the bed, with one hand stretched out underneath it and his hand on Ward's pointy little shoulder.

"You want to come out and have something to eat?" he asked. "There's a place down the street that has desserts and stuff. Ice cream. You wanna go have ice cream?"

Ward shook his head. Okay, Danny thought, a five-year-old turning down ice cream was a really bad sign.

He rolled over on his side and discovered that Ward was watching him, a flash of light-colored eyes in the darkness under the bed. Was Ward scared of him? he wondered.

There was no Hell in the Buddhist afterlife, and Danny wasn’t even sure what his own religious beliefs were exactly anyway (it was sort of a mishmash of all the various cultural influences in his life), but if reincarnation and karma actually did exist, he hoped Harold was currently reincarnating as an endless series of mosquitoes and getting smashed every single time. A few thousand years of that ought to be about right. After that, maybe Harold could graduate to rice weevils or something, and work his way up from there for the next few million years.

"I can also call down to the front desk and have them bring ice cream to our room," Danny said, pillowing his cheek on his arm. "There won't be as many choices, but I bet I could have some vanilla ice cream brought up. Vanilla with chocolate sprinkles, that was your favorite, right?"

He just wanted to drag Ward out from under the bed and hug the stuffing out of him, but he also knew that would be the worst thing he could possibly do. A Harold kind of thing to do ... well, minus the hugging, probably. The only thing he could do was try to show Ward that he wasn't that kind of adult.

"So I'm gonna go do that, okay? I'm just going over to the phone."

He made the call sitting on the floor where Ward could see him. He wasn't sure whether that actually was important, but it felt important. After that, Danny lay on the carpet again.

"Hey, Ward, do you want to see a picture of your sister?"

He thumbed through pictures on his phone until he found one of Joy. He didn't have very many of her due to ... well ... circumstances, but he did have a couple from last year, during that ever-so-brief period when they'd been speaking to each other and it had seemed, for awhile, that things were going to be okay.

"She's just a baby for you now, right? This is what she looks like when she grows up."

He turned the phone screen so Ward could see it. After a little while, Ward uncoiled somewhat and scootched over so he could see the screen better.

"Here's another," Danny said, flipping to a new one. This was Joy at her desk at Rand, giving him an exasperated look as he'd peeked into her office to take a quick picture of her to use as his phone photo for her. (He'd just discovered that you could set a picture to go with someone's phone number in a smartphone address book. He remembered being delighted about that.)

In a very tiny voice, not much more than a whisper, Ward asked, "Do you have any pictures of me?"

"Sure I do." Lots more than Joy, fortunately. Danny flicked to the recent ones. "Here, you're in most of these." Generally either ignoring him, or giving the camera (and by extension, Danny) assorted variations on his sardonic "why me?" expression while Danny took pictures of temples and markets and parks that also just happened to have Ward in them.

There was a knock at the door. Ward retreated back under the bed. "It's just the hotel people bringing us our ice cream," Danny said, and he passed the phone under the bed where Ward could keep looking through photos while he went to answer it.

He had to hand it to the hotel's restaurant: they'd done a nice job. Danny came back with two glass bowls, each with a heaping scoop of vanilla ice cream topped with chocolate shavings and a strawberry on each one. He set one down on the carpet and held the other. "It's gonna melt," he said, dipping his spoon into his. "I can put yours in the room fridge if you want it later instead."

There was a short hesitation and then Ward cautiously crawled out from under the bed, with the phone clutched in one of his hands. "That's me?" he said dubiously, showing the screen to Danny.

Danny was aware that he had no particular talent for photography, so it was a little bit off center and crooked, but it was actually a nice picture of Ward, sitting on a low stone wall with a sweeping vista of gardens and jungle behind him and a sketchbook in his lap.

"Yeah," Danny said, grinning at him. "That's you."

"I'm drawing?" Ward said, and frowned. "I'm drawing," he said again, thinking his way through it.

Danny remembered that part of what this was like: everything was overwhelming, and you got the most intense memories first and hardest (which had to be part of what was giving Ward such a rough time). But putting things in order or remembering anything specific was the hard part.

"Yeah! You like to draw. You're really good at it, too. Here, I'll show you."

He hopped up and got the sketchbook, which was stuck in the top of Ward's luggage, where it usually was. Danny also got out a box of Ward’s colored pencils. He figured it was Ward's sketchbook and Ward had an equal right to draw in it when he was five as he did when he was thirty.

When he came back, Ward had the enormous bowl of ice cream in his lap and a spoon stuffed in his mouth. He glared at Danny as if daring him to make something out of it.

It was really weird how much like his adult self he still was at this age. In a way, Danny thought, that was probably what had gotten him through all those years of Harold's abuse. Ward had a rock-solid core of, well, of Ward: prickly and angry and sarcastic and stubborn. It made him a real dick sometimes, and it certainly had when they were kids, but it had also kept him from being completely steamrolled by Harold, over the years. Danny felt a sudden intense wash of ... just, feelings: love and admiration and the intense desire to kick Harold's ass around the astral plane for awhile. Luckily Ward was looking at the sketchbook rather than at Danny's face, because hiding his feelings was something Danny really wasn't good at.

"See, here," Danny said, opening the sketchbook up randomly to a drawing of a temple carving. "You're really good at this. Here you go." He put the pencils next to it. "You can draw in it, if you want."

Ward touched the page hesitantly, then jerked his hand away when he noticed he'd left a smear of melted chocolate on the drawing. "I'll mess it up," he said in a voice that sounded small and fragile.

"No, you won't. It's yours. Anyway, it's already gotten wet and had coffee spilled on it and got trampled by a bunch of goats in Cambodia." Danny flipped to a fresh page and showed Ward a coffee ring on top of a half-finished sketch of Danny. "See? You can't do anything bad to it."

Ward shoved the spoon into his mouth, and said around it, indistinctly, "I'm bad at it. Dad said --"

"Your dad's not here," Danny said, more fiercely than he intended, and Ward quailed from the anger in his voice. Damn it. He gentled his tone down and got himself under control. It turned out that dealing with a traumatized five-year-old was better training at emotional control than anything the elders in K'un-Lun had ever come up with. "Look," he said gently. "You're awesome at it. At least, I think so, and I'm the only adult around here, so I must be right. Right?"

Ward looked like he was extremely doubtful about this logic, but he also had the ice cream spoon in his mouth again.

Danny flipped the sketchbook to a blank page and shook out the box of pencils in a heap next to it, noticing Ward's eyes following them covetously. Then he dug into his own bowl of ice cream.

After a little while, with the ice cream in his bowl mostly gone, Ward picked up a pencil.

Danny leaned back against the side of the bed and pretended to be interested in his ice cream and only his ice cream, and not at all in the slow relaxing of Ward's rigid little body as he got interested in the drawing. It worked that way for adult Ward as well, which had given Danny an extremely unpleasant (but plausible) theory that Harold had made him stop because it was something that made him happy that Harold didn't have control over; it was something that Harold could neither understand nor use to control him, and therefore it had to go.

Danny clenched the fist that had once been the Iron Fist until the metal handle of the ice cream spoon actually bent. Carefully, he pried his fingers off it and flexed his hand until the purplish imprint of the spoon handle had faded, and then went back to eating.

When he'd finished his ice cream, Danny picked up his phone and pretended to be absorbed in it, while keeping a subtle eye on Ward, who was now completely absorbed in his drawing.

And a little while after that, without saying anything, Ward picked up the sketchbook and his pencils, and crawled into Danny's lap, and spread the sketchbook on the floor and -- sprawling half in and half out of Danny’s lap -- went back to drawing in it.

#iron fist #ward meachum #danny rand #kidfic

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linskywords · 6 years

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So I’m at my sister’s bday party which I’m not.... really loving because I’m not into the club scene. But I opened your fic to read the last chapter and wtf man I’m literally crying in the club. I’ve just recently got into hockey rpf and Jonny/Pat are my favorite pairing- you write some of the best stories I’ve read about that pair! Also do you have an fic recommendations for a new hockey rpf fan?

Aaaaah, first of all, that is amazing. I’m so happy this story was able to bring you to tears in the middle of a club. I hope your sister knows how awesome her party ended up being. :D

Second, I am so happy that you’ve found this fandom! I have SO MANY RECOMMENDATIONS – so many, in fact, that I’m going to list them after the break, because I got a little carried away. (Maybe more than a little. There’s...a lot to choose from.)

Jonny/Patrick

A classic, the pairing that defined this fandom, my all-time favorite. I personally love writing them because of the depth that’s been given their characters across the massive amounts of stories out there. Not that I need to sell you on them. :) Here are a few of my faves, though it’s so hard to choose:

Learning Curve by demotu – I’m not digging deep here. Everything by demotu is awesome, and everyone knows it. :) I was torn between this one and Tympani, so you should read both if you haven’t already, and also just, you know, everything.

Prise de Fer by altri_uccelli – definitely read everything by her (especially the Walls ‘verse/remix and Just Maybe), but this one I keep coming back to. I didn’t think I was particularly into Regency AUs until this story, and yet!

This Heart Is Not For Wasting by fourfreedoms – and, you know, most things by fourfreedoms. There’s a trend emerging here.

Bye Bye Blackhawk by jedusaur – apparently I’m a total sucker for Patrick Kane not being a hockey player and then BEING A SURPRISE AMAZING HOCKEY PLAYER. See also: Patrick 'Showtime’ Kane.

a light-handed approach to regulation by hazel – one of the first a/b/o fics I loved and still one of my favorites. Again, shockingly, hazel is someone it’s worth reading a lot of.

I’ve Got a Feeling (Hope You’re Feeling It Too) by aohatsu – such good werewolves! And aohatsu is awesome and you should read Learning As We Go and 22 also everything else by her, too.

I Got a Love (That Keeps Me Waiting) by svmadelyn – sigh, I’m super not digging deep here, because so many of these are the highest kudos’d stories in the fandom. What can I say? The fandom sorts well. But svmadelyn is another author to read everything by! Just go ahead and assume that for everyone on this list, probably.

bring it if you really want it by staraflur – the Harry Potter AU! So good.

break me in by thundersquall – possibly this is not your kink but IT’S TOTALLY MY KINK.

Banned by Vitula – ah, Patrick and Jonny flirting online when they don’t even know each other in real life. :D

Twist in my Sobriety by jezziejay – again, so hard to choose!. I think this is my favorite of hers, but don’t hold me to it.

Shot right through with a bolt of blue by mermaid – love me some magical realism + angst.

Okay, I could go on forever, but let’s move on to…

Tyler/Jamie

My second love. My favorite thing about them is how (at least as I see them) they have perfectly opposing insecurities: Jamie thinks he’s not flashy enough, fun enough, hot enough for someone like Tyler, and Tyler things he’s not solid and good and worthy enough for someone like Jamie. But then it turns out they’re crazy about each other. :D

Door to Door by Ferritin4 – hahaha I am making THE OPPOSITE OF DEEP CUTS HERE but this story is just so good. So good.

the other thing by cornfields – my very favorite exploration of homophobia anywhere. ANYWHERE. It’s not light, but it’s so worth it.

gonna have to ask about by ferrassie – sigh, again, I am choosing the most obvious stories but only because they’re amazing.

untitled seguin/benn a/b/o ficlet by Rest – this super short but also I love it.

Sink These Roots Deep by LadyJanelly – everything by LadyJanelly is amazing. See also: Twelve Moons and Salvage (which is a Mad Max AU and SERIOUSLY THE MOST AMAZING).

…I was going to add the one where Jamie wishes his soulmate were more original and then he wishes his soulmate were Tyler Seguin, but I can’t find it??? SOMEONE MUST HELP ME IF THIS HAS BEEN DELETED.

Hallsy/Ebs

Kind of retro at this point but aaaaah I love them so much. Here are my favorites:

make lots of noise by maleyka – in making this list, I discovered that I have multiple favorite Hallsy/Ebs fics in which Hallsy is a girl. Hmmmm.

love today (anyway you want to) by daisysusan – the other fic I love where Hallsy is a girl, grouped for your convenience!

You and I (Will Be Young Forever) by ChibiRHM – ah, teh cuteness.

Still After All These Years by hapakitsune – aaaaah this is so angst-ridden and SO GOOD.

Baby, Let’s Play House by doctor_denmark – in which there’s a baby and they don’t know which of theirs it is!!!

my head’s in the game (but my heart’s in the song) by ten_miles_til_midnight – yes, that is a title from High School Musical. What can I say– these two were made for high school AUs.

Other pairings

...Okay, so I kind of wimped out when it came to making extensive rec lists for other pairings. Mostly the problem is that I don’t know them well enough– I have over 1,000(!!) hockey bookmarks, because I have no bookmark discretion, and I can’t remember which are the most important stories for those pairings. But I did want to highlight a few stories/pairings:

Mitch/Auston – there are SO many stories being written about them right now, so definitely worth checking out the tag. I read dozens of stories about them last fall and can’t remember which ones I liked best, but I do know that torch this place we know by theundiagnosable is awesome.

Willy/Latts – I haven’t read as much for them, but I have to give a HUGE SHOUTOUT to Out of play, out of competition by thenorthface, which I have read, oh, only a BILLION times. Apparently Michael Latta going on The Bachelor is my one true love.

P.K./Carey – somewhat of the past now that P.K. is on the Preds, but there are some fantastic stories for them. I did actually reread a bunch of them in making this list (tragedy, my life is so difficult) and was surprised by the concentration of excellent tropes: for example, Any Wish You Want by Ferritin4 and grace under pressure by gdgdbaby both feature Carey getting hit by some kind of sex magic; in the time you took to get this far by TheDukeofAvon and harder hit by gdgdbaby and oopsohdear make excellent use of amnesia; and then there’s age ain’t nothing but a number by 7iris, where Carey Price gets deaged and okay I’m stopping now but the point is, don’t sleep on P.K. and Carey.

There are so many more. THERE ARE SO MANY MORE. I couldn’t even pick for Connor McDavid/Dylan Strome and Alex Galchenyuk/Brendan Gallagher and Danny Briere/Claude Giroux because I would have had to reread everything and it’s already taken me like four days to put together a response to your ask and I have it on good authority that I’m supposed to be doing other things with my life. And then there’s the treasure trove that is Sid/Geno, which, for reasons I do not understand, I have never been able to get into, but you probably should because there are so many stories written by such excellent people.

So. That’s it for now. (heaves huge sigh, wipes sweat off brow) If other people want to fill in the horrible omissions I have no doubt made, they should definitely do so!

#Anonymous #hockey rpf #fic #recs #patrick kane #jonathan toews #tyler seguin #jamie benn #taylor hall #jordan eberle #mitch marner #auston matthews #mike latta #tom wilson #p.k. subban #carey price #...i think that was everyone

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fantasticworldoffanfics · 7 years

Text

DEREK/STILES FEATURE FIC

Fandom: TeenWolf

Just an exceptionally adorable fic that I thought is too good to be ignored….

We Den Our Hearts Here by ladylade

PROMPT: Derek accidentally adopts a litter of orphaned wolf cubs (they can be werewolves if you are so inclined, but are too young to change into human form. Maybe that can be like an age thing, like, Derek walks in one day to check on them and sees a human baby sitting there and he’s like ‘the fuck? Where the hell did that come from? wait a second….’)

Stiles is weirdly good with the cubs. They love him. Scott is kind of a mess with them. No one leaves him with the cubs unsupervised. Jackson turns into a big pile of mush when he’s with them. Danny is like 'why does Miguel have all these puppies?’ Stiles explanation of 'Miguel! He does…that thing. In college. Where you study animal…behaviour. For his… dissertation. On wolves. I mean dogs.’ doesn’t really make sense.

Derek hates his life sometimes.

He doesn’t even know how this happened. One moment he was picking up pamphlets on wolf behavior at the closest wildlife preserve (if Scott and Jackson won’t listen to Derek—or Stiles—then he’s going make this as embarrassing as possible for them), and the next minute he’s discussing wolves with one of the caretakers. And then suddenly he’s got five wolf pups in his back seat as he’s driving home. (On towels, of course, because balls of fluff or no, nothing is allowed to ruin his seats.)

Aren’t there wild animal laws or adoption wait periods that make this illegal? But Derek’s teenage pack must be influencing him too much, because he doesn’t even try to take them back.

>>>

Scott comes over, which means Stiles comes over, despite the numerous times Derek has tried to…dissuade him. (Derek had tried the whole, you’re not pack thing, even though it’s not really true, but Stiles had chosen that moment to become the most insightful person ever, practically glowing as he exclaimed, “Oh my god, I totally am! You lying, lying sour wolf!”) The pups are blockaded in the kitchen, which makes Derek very grateful that he’s rebuilt the house because that means he actually has a linoleum floor in his kitchen, which is much easier to clean piss off of than rotting boards.

The moment Stiles catches sight of the pups, though, it’s like he’s been given the answer to life or something. Derek thought he’d seen how hyperactive the kid could get before, but Jesus.

“Ohmygodpuppies!” Stiles says, and then he leaps over the baby-gate and into the kitchen.

Leaps over it, like he’s a deer or something. Derek didn’t even know that Stiles was capable of not being clumsy, much less being graceful.

It sets Derek on edge, because it took even Derek some time before the pups warmed up to him, and Derek’s afraid that they’ll take one look at Stiles and see squeak toy.

Except, when Derek steps into the kitchen and finds Stiles on the floor, they’re not chewing on him. They’re licking him and squirming happily and rolling around on Stiles like Stiles is the best patch of dirt ever.

What the hell is going on?

“Making friends, Stiles?” Scott says from where he’s poked his head into the kitchen. He’s acting like this isn’t the most abnormal thing he’s ever seen.

Stiles just makes a happy noise, and the pups yap excitedly, licking at his jaw and tugging at his shirt.

The ‘what the fuckery’ must be obvious on Derek’s face, because Scott says, “Stiles is really good with animals, especially when they’re young. When we get really shy or scared puppies at work, Doc asks Stiles to babysit them for a few days so that it’ll be easier to find homes for them.”

Okay. It’ll take some work to fit in this new ‘Animal Whisperer’ Stiles with the Stiles that Derek currently knows, but he can do it. Maybe.

But the babysitting thing, well, that’s promising.

It turns out that, while the entire pack would like to watch over the pups, Stiles is the only person that Derek actually trusts to do so. Scott is complete mess; every time that he’s left alone with them for more than five minutes, something gets broken and, more often than not, Scott gets peed on (how Scott is able to work in an animal clinic, Derek doesn’t understand). Jackson fares better with them, but he’s also the biggest pushover in the world and everything they do is completely adorable, even if it’s chewing up Derek’s new kitchen cabinets.

And sure, Stiles may be a pushover with them, but he doesn’t let them chew on anything except their toys.

Stiles probably spends more time with the pups than Scott and Jackson combined; every day after lacrosse practice, Stiles is there, even if Derek doesn’t want him to be. Stiles also, much to Derek’s annoyance, names them. It happens without Derek knowing, and by the time Derek finds out the pups already answer to the names.

“Who said you could name them?” Derek says, and tries to glare Stiles down.

“Stop pouting, I take care of them just as much as you do,” Stiles says, and initiates tug-of-war with the runt of the group.

Derek would argue, but Stiles is right. Except about the pouting part. Derek does not pout.

The runt is Stiles’ favorite, a little grey pup with charcoal streaking back from his face and onto the top half of his body. He named him Timber, and the largest puppy, a grey with tan tints who picks on Timber, ended up with the name Brutus. (“It’s not funny,” Derek says when Stiles keeps trying to insist it is.) He named the two light greys Artemis and Apollo, because the only real distinction between them is their sex and their eyes. All of the pups’ eyes have changed golden except Artemis’, and though she’s still young enough that it might happen, Derek has a feeling that her eyes will stay blue. The last pup, a quiet thing whose coat is black, gets named Fell.

“C’mon, these are the most badass names ever,” Stiles says.

“There is something wrong with you,” Derek says, but after Stiles leaves Derek calls the pups by the names Stiles has given them.

>>>

This is why Stiles gets to look after the pups: he will corral them in the back of his jeep and watch them at his house. When Derek wants to have a training session in or around his house, Stiles takes the pups because they’re too young to follow the pack when they hunt, and usually the sessions inside the house freak them out.

Jackson makes a joke about marital separation and custody, and the glare Derek sends the Beta has him in his car before the front door finishes shutting.

Stiles even watches them when he has lab homework with Danny, which meant that Derek had to buy Danny two pairs of shoelaces before the kid got smart and started leaving his shoes outside of Stiles’ room.

(“Why are there puppies?” Danny had asked the first time.

“Uhh,” Derek heard Stiles say from Derek’s perch on the roof, “they’re De-Miguel’s. He’s, uh, he’s doing a study for college. Dissertation! He’s doing his dissertation on early…early behavior development.”)

It means that, because Derek is not the kind of asshole to need Stiles to watch the pups at last minute, pack meetings and training session have become regular, instead of the haphazard sessions that Derek pulled together whenever he felt the Betas needed to be shown that no, they aren’t in complete control of themselves. Now sessions happen at the same times and same days each week, and pack meetings are set a week in advanced. The structure seems to work even better than Derek’s approach before, especially with Stiles badgering out of Derek what Derek thought the Betas needed the most work with, and then coming back a day later with a monthly schedule that organized each session in color codes for different activities. It scares Derek, because he didn’t even know that Stiles had organizational skills like this.

Somehow, having a pack of wolf pups has made Derek’s life easier.

Alison comes over with a camera one sunny day, wanting to take pictures of the pups. Derek doesn’t mind, as Stiles is watching over them in the yard and he’s mostly in the kitchen hacking up frozen venison.

Two days later, there’s a stack of photos on his porch and one framed photo of a shade-dappled Stiles, walking the tree-line with all five pups trailing behind him like goddamn goslings. Derek rolls his eyes, but he puts the picture up on the mantle anyway.

>>>

There’s a horrible thunderstorm, which would be okay, except that there’s also golf-ball-sized hail.

The pups are all in Derek’s bed, and while they’re not big, at just over three months they’re also not small anymore. All five of them have finally been housetrained (Brutus was a stubborn, stubborn pup about that, and Derek understands why Stiles has nicknamed him “Brute”), so they’re allowed the run of the house as long as someone (Derek or Stiles) is in the house with them. And even though the pups have been through thunderstorms (Artemis and Apollo like to watch lightning at the window), the sound of hail snapping branches is like a gunshot.

With five pups trying to suffocate him and thunder and hail trying to kill the entirety of Beacon Hills, Derek’s lucky he hears Stiles’ jeep pull up.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Derek says after a moment.

He manages to wriggle out of the bed, and when he leaves the pups don’t follow him downstairs. Stiles is already putting his slicker in the kitchen sink, and Derek can smell the bruises forming on his shoulders from getting hit with ice chunks.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Derek says, and Stiles jumps.

“Are the pups okay? Were they inside when the story started? They’re terrified, aren’t they?” Stiles says, mouth and hands flailing a mile a minute.

It creeps Derek out sometimes, that Stiles seems to know when the pups are in trouble or are scared (this is in no way the first time that he’s done this; the last time Timber got his paw caught under a log and Stiles drove from school, in the middle of the day, to hover over him).

“They’re fine,” Derek says. “Where are they?” It’s rare when Stiles can be deterred, unless Derek distracts him with something shiny or tootsie rolls.

“In bed, where I should be,” Derek says, then, “goddamnit,” when Stiles goes sprinting up the stairs. Derek sighs, scrubs his hands over his face, and follows the kid. When he makes it to his room, Stiles’ shoes are in the middle of the floor and he’s curled up on the bed with the pups trying to burrow into him.

“Get off my bed,” Derek says, and then he has six pairs of eyes glaring at him and judging his entire existence.

“They’re scared,” Stiles says, as if Derek is the one who has terrified them.

It’s then that Derek realizes that, somehow, Stiles has become the den mother. Oh no. No. This has not happened. Derek is not essentially stuck in what Jackson somewhat accurately described as a marital separation with Stiles.

“Fuck,” Derek says. It’s late and this is giving Derek a headache.

“What? What happened? What’s wrong?” Stiles says. Derek just shakes his head and climbs on the bed.

“You had better stay on your side of the bed, and you better stay quiet,” Derek says as he finds a comfortable position.

“You, I—oh,” Stiles says, as Derek resolutely keeps his eyes closed, “yeah, I. Yeah, okay.”

>>>

Stiles does not keep quiet, as the kid (unsurprisingly) mumbles in his sleep, and no one keeps to their side of the bed. Derek wakes up in the morning to sunlight and a tangle of pups and Stiles, all wrapped around him. He tries to wake Stiles, or even get the boy off of his chest, but Stiles sleeps like he’s a hibernating bear.

Derek sighs, and glares back when Artemis glares, one-eyed, at him for jostling her; then she falls asleep again between one breath and the next. Derek decides this isn't the worst thing in the world to wake up to, and follows her into sleep.

#Sterek #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfics #fanfic rec #featured #adorable #derek hale #stiles stilinski

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