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starry-bi-sky · 4 months

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I am procrastinating homework and finals studying so I'm making another DPxDC au -- or more accurately, I am making an au of an au. or combining two aus to make a third one, because I am Procastinating And thinking about it.

(the part two for my Danny is Jason Todd au is like,,, half-made and I will get around to finishing it, promiiissse)

So the two aus I had in mind were combining, of course, the two clone aus - the Danny Clone and the Damian Clone au. For folks who haven't seen either posts (or saw one but not the other) here are summaries of both:

Damian Clone Au: The LoA make a clone of Damian Wayne specifically to either kill Damian Wayne and have the clone take his place as the heir to the LoA, or to bring him back. At 6 years old though and through magical teleportation mishaps, Baby Damian ends up in the warehouse district of Amity Park and picked up (and later adopted) by Danny Fenton. They develop a brotherly dynamic with one another.

Danny Clone Au: Danny is straight up a clone of Bruce Wayne, doesn't find out until a year after he has his accident. And, for the fun of it, is also mostly-powerless (he retains his ghost sense and a semblance of a ghost core and signature, but no ghost form). His reasoning for becoming Phantom is because he has walked into the lab watching his parents dissecting ghosts post-portal working more times than he can count. And due to this, changes his beliefs from "ghosts are evil" to "ghosts are sentient and sapient beings who don't deserve this treatment". (masterpost pinned on my blog, its currently incomplete) He is also a little GNC, as a treat. Long-haired Danny ftw. Ellie is a halfa because of the ectoplasm that Vlad used, and also the same age as Danny. They call each other twins and she is viciously protective of him. He uses a baseball bat and brass knuckles that I call 'jawbreakers' to fight ghosts.

Now admittedly, not much probably changes with the combination of these aus other than the potential parallels between Damian and Danny, and Bruce and Damian - and of course, I am always a sucker for parallels. Plus Damian's running off would take Danny finding him much longer, since he can no longer fly, but all the more meaningful because he still took so much time to find him.

(It probably also makes their first meeting different as well - Danny wears a ROTTMNT Casey Jones Jr. esq. mask when he goes out, but Damian would recognize lazarus green anywhere. He'd probably try harder to kill him though once he sees his face, since he knows that its not his father but an imposter.)

It also includes what I consider a hilarious conversation: "Since I'm a clone of Bruce Wayne, does this make me your dad or your brother?" "Don't be an idiot, laeazir." "You didn't answer my question."

The biggest change that comes from this is, of course, the fact that Danny now no longer has a leg to stand on with the "you're a human, I am a ghost" excuse in order to prevent Damian to help him with ghost-fighting, because now Danny is also a squishy, fleshy and fragile human just like Damian. And a human who, arguably, has less combat training than Damian and no powers to make up for it.

Now, Danny in both aus are about 16-17-ish in age, so they've had time to adapt to their new vigilante-hero lifestyle, but its still not the same as Damian's training as an assassin. Damian, unlike in the original clone au, remains insistent on his want to help Danny.

And,,, eventually wears him down after weeks or months of sneaking out after him, helping in fights, interfering, arguing, etc. Danny eventually agrees, exhausted, but he makes Damian promise, promise, that he will be careful and to focus on dodging and distraction. At least until Danny can figure out a safer alternative. He wants him as far removed from the fight as he can, he's a child for ancient's sake, after all.

Which is another issue too - if we follow Damian Clone timeline, then Damian is six years old when this happens. I'll be point blank, I do not see Danny ever actually agreeing to let a literal 6 year old go with him. SO, solution, I bump Damian's age to 7 when he arrives in the Fenton Family, and make him freshly eight years old when he finally gets Danny to agree.

It still SUCKS. He is still very much an itty bitty child, but as someone who has seen the difference between a six year old and an eight year old due to working at a daycare, an eight year old is still... slightly feasible. And an 8 year old assassin even more so (even if he hasn't trained properly in nearly a year or so)

So Danny, reluctantly, agrees to let Damian come with him on patrols.

He ghost-proofs Damian's sword (as he has since learned to do with his bat and jawbreakers), makes him a grappling hook and a Fenton thermos, and reluctantly lets Damian come with in his old LoA uniform that he appeared in (with some tailoring and ghost-proofing, because he has since begun to grow out of the uniform).

(and Danny himself also finally starts looking into alternatives to improve his own "suit" - which is all but a hoodie and reinforced jeans and a hockey mask. He needs to set an example to his little brother, goddammit.)

Then, as they're planning for Damian's eventual (dreaded on Danny's part) debut, they sit in their shared room and brainstorm for what to call Damian. "Ellie already uses the name Spirit." Danny says, sitting criss-cross at his desk with the eraser nub of a pencil chewed between his teeth.

(Behind him he has an investigative corkboard set up -- his accident left him with the ability to see ghosts not capable of being seen on the visible plane. 'Stereotypical' ghosts. Between school work, his social life, and ghost fighting, some of his downtime is spent figuring out ways to help them move on. His most recent is a cold case.)

(Bc with Danny, I loove to have him have some sort of trait that ties him in with his original counterpart. Nature vs Nurture and all that. Investigative work can be part of that.)

"What about Wraith?" Damian suggests from the floor, leaning against the bed frame while he goes over one of his english books. They've been practicing his reading and writing.

Danny furrows his brows. "A ghost seen typically shortly after or before someone's death?"

Damian nods. "Yes, it's of a similar cadence to 'Batman and Robin'."

"What's with you and your thing with Batman and Robin?" Danny asks with a playful half-smile, Damian shrugs and looks at his books. Danny sticks the eraser back between his incisors. "Phantom and Wraith... that works, though."

The first night out together, Danny fusses over Damian, making sure every bit of uniform was secured and in place -- something Damian took mild offense over. His outfit was far more reinforced than the juvenile get-up that his older brother wore.

But he let him fuss anyways. It made him loved.

"Now remember, Wraith--"

Damian interrupts him: "Yes, I know, Dany. Avoid and distract. Stay situationally aware. I fear that is something I should be telling you, however. Mother would have your head if she ever saw what your training was like."

(It was, not for the first time, that Damian wondered how his,,, "mother",,, would react if she ever met Danyal. Not good, he knows.)

Danny's shoulders sag, and he sighs. "I believe that, what with that super-secret spy--"

"Assassin."

Danny sends him a half-hearted chagrined look, "Assassin," he corrects, "organization that made you. I'm sure I'd give your mother an aneurysm." When he's finally okay with whatever make-believe issues he found with his suit, Danny reaches for the nearby side table and carefully slips on a black domino mask over Damian's eyes. It was thin, flexible, and made with some kind of material that Danny reassured was environmentally safe.

("Some kind of matieral that Wayne Industries invented awhile ago, Sam bought it for me." Danny told him when he first showed it to him.)

It was also cold. But the chill was made up for, slightly, with Danny's warmer hands smoothing it out over his skin, and ridding of any ridges that could form. Damian isn't sure entirely what Danyal did to keep it stuck onto his face, but when he touches it with his fingers he feels a very faint seam at the edge, and it doesn't budge against his hands. It felt like a second skin.

"There we go." Danny smiles, pulling his hands back. He still looks nervous. "It's not the same as my hockey mask," which sat atop his head, ready to be pulled down, "but I think a domino mask will work better for you considering your background."

He was right, a hockey mask would only hurt Damian's peripheral vision. This mask was thin enough that it didn't.

"Ready to go, Wraith?"

"After you, Phantom."

+++

Damian has much issue with Danny's suit. He can think of a million ways to make it better. It is one of the things he and Samantha Manson can get along with, and the few times they have spent time together they have brainstormed suit ideas. He knows that since Danny took him on as Wraith, he has started to look into better suit alternatives.

However. They are both aware of the same thing:

Danny is not Batman, nor Superman, nor Wonder Woman, nor Aquaman, or the Flash, or Green Arrow, or Nightwing, or any single hero on the public roster. He is also not rich like Lex Luthor or Vlad Masters or Bruce Wayne himself.

He has no money and no contacts, and thus, no way of properly improving his suit to be something even half as safe as the other supers.

And he refuses to let Samantha Manson help him find a way to fix that - even with all that money, Samantha Manson is on an allowance from her parents, and also, despite her other range of abilities, not capable of getting those materials without putting herself on a list of some sort. They are at a standstill.

Damian knows this, because he has asked.

Until one day when Danny is talking about a case he is working on and telling Damian about old adventures he had in the Ghost Zone, does he see his brother get hit with a lightbulb.

He slaps a hand against his forehead and straightens up from his swivel seat. He huffs a laugh, "Of course! Why didn't I think of it sooner?" And he turns on his heel and hurries to his bookshelf, pulling down a notebook and flipping open to an empty page.

Damian frowns, "Laeazir?"

"I know you don't like my suit, Damian," Danny says, striding over to his desk and snatching a pencil out of a cup. He begins jotting something down on the notebook. "And there's nothing I can really do about it because, well, I'm poor in comparison to my facesake, and I don't have the resources to get my hands on someone who would make me a new suit."

"Yes, we have talked about this..." Damian nods slowly, still frowning, and trying to follow his brother's line of reasoning.

Danny shoots him a megawatt, half-tilt smile, his hair tied up into a half-bun. "But! I was thinking about it from the wrong angle. I don't have the living resources to help me get a suit, but..." he trails off, staring at Damian intently.

It dinged in Damian's brain to where he was going, "But you have the undead resources instead." He says, his eyes widening slowly. Of course, of course! Danyal was ridiculously charismatic by accident, and Damian has seen plenty of times where his heart-of-gold had one or two non-hostile ghosts be incredibly grateful to him.

His brother makes a loud, 'ding-ding-ding!' sound, pointing his pencil at Damian as his smile stretches further across his face. In a few quick strides, he was sat down next to Damian and showing him his notebook. "Correct! When I first started out as Phantom a few years ago, I managed to help a ghost who called herself Taylor, and apparently she was a seamstress both in and out of life."

Damian watches as Danny writes the name at the top of the paper, and creates bullet-points down the page. "She said that in return for saving her, I should come find her in the Ghost Zone if I ever need clothes made for me. It's a one-time thing, but I was thinking that she could perhaps help make me a new suit."

Danny turns a bit pink at the ears, and rubs his neck, "I never thought much of it because I didn't think I'd ever go into the Ghost Zone, or ever need ghost clothes, so I forgot about it up until now."

A scoff forces itself out of Damian's mouth, but he is smiling. "Danyal, you are the smartest idiot I have ever met."

For the next hour, both he and Danny make a bullet point list of what both of their suits would need. Reinforcement in certain areas, gauntlets with reinforced knuckles to replace Danyal's jawbreakers. A different weapon than a bat.... a utility belt, reinforced boots. Anything they could think of.

It was Damian's idea to add a cloak to both of their suits, asymmetrical and torn at the edges for a more 'ghostly' look. They have a theme, after all. It's quite fun.

Then Danyal calls up Sam for help in drafting up design ideas. And while Danyal steps mostly to the side when it comes to the design itself, Damian and Sam fill pages with designs until coming up with one they both agreed on and like.

"What about a lightning bolt on the chest?" "Why are we using my traumatic accident as a symbol of my identity?" "Ghosts do it all the time, Danny. Ember sings about her death." "I'm not dead?" "No that won't work, Manson. Shazam already has a giant lighting bolt emblem." "Okay, but I still want to use it somewhere." "How about this?" "...That could work. Okay, now onto your emblem--"

Last was the hard part: getting into the Ghost Zone without the Fenton parents noticing the disappearance of their precious Fenton Specter Speeder. They employed Jazz's help with that. She would get the Fentons out of the house long enough for him and Danny to get into the ghost zone, hopefully find the seamstress, and cash in that favor.

They went through with their plan that following weekend. Danny tossed Damian a small jumpsuit as they both climbed into the specter speeder, but did not grab his own. He had a small duffle bag on him that he threw under the seat.

"What is this?" Damian asks, nose scrunching up at the gaudy picture of Jack Fenton's face square at the center of the chest. He held it far away from it, as if it had a disease.

"Your hazmat suit." Danny replies, settling himself into the driver's seat as the door hissed shut and he began turning it on. He had some sort of gas mask on in his lap, too small to fit Danny's head, but certainly the right size to fit Damian's. "Normally you wouldn't need it since you'd stay in the speeder, but we're both getting out once we find Taylor. It's to protect you from the ectoplasm."

A scowl forces itself across Damian's face, "You don't have one." He points out, finding seat in the passenger chair next to Danny. His arms cross over his chest, and he was not pouting.

Danny looks at him amusedly, "I have enough ectoplasm in my body that I don't need one, you however, do not." He retorts, poking a finger into Damian's ribcage pointedly. "If you don't put it on now, you'll put it on when we find Taylor."

Damian's scowl deepens, feeling petulant as he sunk into his chair. Danny turns back to the console and flips a few more switches. "I will not, it looks ridiculous." He turns it around to show Danny the Jack Fenton Face.

The Specter Speeder hums to life, and there's a moment of turbulence as it lifts off the ground. While it does, Danny turns back to him blankly, stares at the emblem, and then reaches forward and yanks it off with a scriiiiich of the emblem. He crumples it up with one hand, and throws it into a small bin at his feet.

"There, fixed." He smiles. Then turns back to the controls, taking the yoke with both hands. "And I'm calling Dad Rights; you will put it on when we find Taylor or you'll stay in the speeder."

Damian sputters, sitting up incredulously. "You are not my father." He argues.

"Teeechnically, I am." Danny says, "I'm a clone of your father, and since I am fully his clone, that makes you my son by a technicality." He says cheerfully, pushing the specter speeder forward and into the swirling green portal.

Before Damian can retort, they're passing through the portal. This was his first time going into the Ghost Zone, and for a few seconds there was nothing but bright, swirling green filling his vision. His body felt like it was being twisted and pulled, his up and down reversing and returning. It was painless, but dizzying.

It only lasts for a few seconds, but it feels like a minute, and when they exit out the other side, Damian is holding his head while his vision spots and swims. Internally, he felt like those cartoon characters when their eyeballs rolled around in their head.

The dizziness fades away slowly, and as Damian regains his sight, he notices Danny's hand splayed over his sternum, gently keeping him pressed against his seat. It fell away when Danny saw that he was alright.

"Put your seatbelt on," Danny orders, nodding to his chair. Damian listens absently, before remembering their conversation before they went through the portal.

"That is not how it works." He scowls, and, annoyingly, only gets a challenged eyebrow raise from Danny. He could see the words written on his face without Danyal ever having to say it.

Because, dangit, he was technically right. Damian refuses to say this aloud. He screws his jaw shut, and crosses his arms back across his chest.

Danny chuckles under his breath, and turns his eyes back to the ghost zone. "My point still stands, either you wear the suit, or you don't leave the speeder."

"Fine."

+++

They eventually find where the seamstress is. Through quite a lot of Danny stopping to ask questions with any friendly ghost he came across, they eventually locate an island with a strange, urban city bustling with life on it. Massive, rocky stalagmites grew from the ground, and buildings were built on top of it or around it, with strange, warping architecture.

It was oddly beautiful.

Danny parked the speeder on the side of the street with a two hour parking sign on a nearby post. As he turned off the engine, he flipped a switch on the console that darkened the windows. He unbuckles his seat, and stood up, stretching out his back with a deep groan.

"Alright, put your suit on. The windows are tinted, so nobody should be able to see into the speeder." He orders, pulling out the duffle he brought in earlier and unzipping it. He pulls out his hockey mask and the hoodie he wore out for patrol, and the notebook they'd been using to jot down ideas for their suit.

Danny even had the hindsight to write in their respective heights, and with Tucker's help, some of their measurements. While he did that, Damian sourly pulled on his hazmat suit, irritated by the need to wear it.

Unfortunately, he also had to wear the boots and gloves for 'extra precaution'. Damian nearly bites out a grumpy 'you're as paranoid as father', but holds his tongue. He wasn't going to tell Danyal that secret.

Once he was done and Danny has his hockey mask and hoodie on, Danny grabs the gas mask and helps fit it over Damian's face. It was a sleek, simple design, shaped similarly to a regular face mask, with little filters on both sides of the mouth and a clear, protective covering around the eyes and forehead. Danyal improved it from the original his parents made.

He was smarter than he gave himself credit for.

Danny checks, then double checks that it the mask is tight, then smiles. Patting Damian's shoulders before standing up fully. "Taylor's shop should be somewhere nearby." He says, grabbing the notebook and tucking it under his arm.

Damian nods, and follows him out the door and onto the busy streets.

Finding Taylor becomes remarkably quick now that they were inside her city - something that Damian silently wondered was based loosely off NYC. Danny kept a firm arm around Damian's shoulders the entire time they walked down the street, keeping the both of them on the inside sidewalk.

Barely anyone passed them a second glance, spare the few odd looks shot at Damian. Danny whispers to him the first time it happens that it's because he has no ghost core, those more attune to their signatures might've been picking up on it.

They didn't notice Danny, because he had one, albeit a weak one.

Taylor's shop has a big sign on it in logographic writing that Damian has no idea how to read. The text shifts slowly, a jambled squiggle of lines, dots, and connected curves that look like a mix of messy cursive, gibberish, and logographic alphabets. He only knows its Taylor's shop because Danny pulls them towards it, stating that it was the place.

"You can read that?" He asks, incredulous as they draw closer to the door. Danny moves his arm off his shoulder, and wraps his fingers around Damian's instead.

"Yep," He replies, then scrunches his nose up, "sort of. It's - uh--" he stumbles over a word that Damian's ears cannot comprehend, but fills his head with slight static regardless. Danny winces. "It's the written form of ghostspeak, but since I'm not a ghost, I can only read some of it. Like uh, dyslexia."

"...I see." Damian says after a moment of silence, trying to replay the word in his head. His mind can't grasp the sound.

When they enter, the door doesn't ding with the sound of a bell, but rather it makes a low scream. Nobody bats an eye to the sound, keeping to their slow search through the racks of clothes.

At the counter was a woman talking quietly to another woman, one of whom Danny recognizes, as he walks over to her.

He doesn't need to say anything, because the woman behind the counter sees him coming, and her face positively lights up with delight. "Phantom!" She cries, and gestures to come over. "I was wondering when in the high ancients you were going to come see me!"

Danny's face is obscured by his mask, but Damian knows he's smiling sheepishly with the way he tilts his head and the way he tenses his shoulders. "My bad, Miss Taylor," he says, reaching the counter and standing beside the woman she was talking to, "It kinda... slipped my mind."

Taylor waves her hand dismissively, "Well you are here now!" She replies, grinning wide. Then her eyes pop open - literally - and she puts a hand over her chest. "Oh, how rude of me!" She turns and gestures between Phantom and the lady next to him, "Miss Mabam, this is Phantom. I told you about him a couple of years ago. He saved me from humans. Phantom, this is Gigi Mabam, she funds my shop. In return I make clothes for her and her staff."

The 'Gigi' woman turns just as Danny does, and smiles wide at him. Damian narrows his eyes at her, shuffling behind Danny legs as he looked her up and down. She had silvery-white hair and purple skin, and wore a darker purple business suit, a red gem cravat at her collar, and teal cat-eye glasses.

There was a lot of purple.

"So this is the ghost-touched you were telling me about, dear!" The woman, Mabam, said. Her voice was rich and low but she spoke in a whimsical cadence. It made Damian's skin crawl, and his narrowed eyes turned into a glare. "I must thank you for saving my seamstress, it would've been quite a fizzy-wink if she had been lost to those ghosty hunters."

What were those nonsense words? Damian hated it.

"Miss Mabam here runs a five-star hotel nearby," Taylor explains, her body turned to Danny, "she also is in charge of the city's Battle Nexus."

Danny is silent for a moment, and his free hand lifts and places itself on the back of Damian's head, keeping him close. "Battle Nexus...?"

Mabam claps cheerfully, laughing low, "Oh yes! Ghosts from all around the zone come to attend and watch as their fellow haunties are ripped from limbity-limb in a blood-curdling battle!"

Danny is still as stone. "I see." He says, careful. Damian wraps his fingers around his pant leg. "Well, I hate to interrupt your conversation, but I was hoping to cash in that favor, Miss Taylor?"

"Of course! What do you need?"

Danny looks down at Damian, and he looks up at him, locking eyes with the ominous green glowing from the eyeslits of his mask. He nods, and Danny looks back up. "Do you know how to make suits? Of the protective kind?"

+++

The seamstress it turns out, is capable of such a thing. And she ushers the both of them into one of the backrooms, sending off Mabam with a farewell and a promise to continue their conversation soon.

She flips through their design book, and immediately gets to work making their suits. In the end, with the help of her powers, she gets both done over the span of four hours. It's longer than both Danny and Damian want, but neither rush her.

Damian just hopes that Jasmine can keep the Fenton parents distracted for that long. She will have to.

The suits are better in real life than on paper, and Damian preens from the side in his own custom suit as Danny examines his own in front of the three mirrors. They were both dressed in all black, but whatever fabric Taylor used was of a blackest-black, turning Danyal - and Damian's - bodies into a black hole to look at. Both of them were fitted for agility, with reinforced padding around their shoulders and chests, as well as around the joints of their legs. Their boots were reinforced as well.

("It was hard to make your boots shock absorbent," Taylor explains, "since we all fly, but I applied similar stuff to what I did with your shoulders and chestplate.")

On the side of Danyal's legs were raised, black, lichtenberg-like figures that were contained to the seams and disappeared under his boots. There were similar designs going up his sleeves, with spiked gauntlets wrapped around his lower arm and hands. The knuckles were reinforced, just like he wanted.

Damian's favorite parts were their capes, however. Black like the rest of the outfit, but "wrapped" around their shoulders like an apocalyptic shawl with a back that went down to their knees, and at the hems the capes were torn and ripped like a wraith. Danyal's mask had gone through very little change. It was made of a stronger material, and Taylor had gone and made it more skull-like in its shape, with three large grills at the front, and the sides curving inward below the 'cheekbones' of the skull to better fit his face. It was still shock white, the only white part of Danyal's entire costume.

Damian's suit was almost identical. However, rather than having the seams of his suit resemble lichtenberg figures, the seams of his sleeves and upper torso were that of a black skeleton, with bone-y designs over his gauntlets and the fingers an ombre of dark red-to-black. And around his torso were raised lines that looked similar to a ribcage. The edge of his cloak was splatter a dark red as well. And he had a new domino mask that looked similar to the upper half of Danyal's mask, with the outer edges curved downward over his cheekbones. He was briefly allowed to take off the upper part of his gas mask to try on the mask.

The best part however, was that since the suits were made of material native to the ghost zone, they could also be taken off quickly and hidden in a small artifact. It was magic, is what it was. Danyal chose earrings, and Damian chose a ring.

When they got back to the Fenton house, Jazz demands a box of chocolate for her hard work. Damian thinks that's only fair as Danny takes them both out to get candy for Jazz.

+++

But other than vigilante stuff, not else much changes. Danny gets to pull a "Dad By Technicality Rule" card over Damian when he's being a brat. Danny doesn't have his run in with Rift (a ghost who portals him into Gotham) until after he meets Damian/lets Damian join him on patrol and when they get new suits.

My reason? Because I want it to happen after that point in time lol. It also makes the eventual "heyyyyy you have a clone" @ bruce much funnier to me because not only does he have a clone of HIMSELF but also THAT clone has a clone of Damian living with him.

Also when Danny destabilizes for the first time Damian is terrified for his safety. The fentons are surprisingly good at cloning, Danny hasn't had any issues up until this point in time, and that's only because he got hit with a new gun from Skulker that messed up the ectoplasm he had in his dna, which in term fucked with his own DNA.

Danny's destabilization, imo, is not "I cast you with Melt" he's not Ellie, he's not made of 50% ectoplasm. His parents surprisingly knew what they were doing, and he was human. So his destabilization should be unique to himself and different. Thus his destabilization is "I cast you with Compromised Immune System" his body slowly weakens over time as his cells destabilize. He becomes unnaturally frail and sick. Damian calls Ellie for help when Danny doesn't get up after being hit in a fight that he normally, and Ellie helps figure out that he's destabilizing. This is whats gonna happen in OG clone au too, but Ellie is going to be there rather than Damian.

It makes going to Wayne Manor after that slightly more interesting,,,

#dpxdc crossover #dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton is not the ghost king #danny fenton is a clone #damian clone au #i couldnt NOT describe their new suits. i just couldn't. they're leaning into the ghost culture of being scary as fuck looking #i feel a little cheesy for giving them magic jewelry that lets them hide their suits instantly #but i have to make up for danny's lack of ghost form SOMEHOW #damian just gets it too by association #if anyone is curious #Ellie's ghost form is identical to Danny's suit just the colors are inverted. so her suit is all white and her mask is all black #its not a starry au unless its got a read more #did anyone notice the Big Mama cameo from ROTTMNT #its because Danny's mask looks like Casey Jones Jr's mask from ROTTMNT without the red marks on the eyes #Danny and Damian's dynamic itches my brain #Danny: im calling Dad Rights - youre grounded #Damian: nnOOOO #also also. danny uses sign language if he's in view of the living since they could recognize his voice. damian does not yet know ASL #so thats on his 'languages to learn' list #although he is not seen by the public since he has school and ghost attacks happen around danny and not him #Red Huntress gives the Phantom so much shit when she sees his sidekick. Phantom tiredly explains that he had no choice - Wraith would have #come with anyways. truly a robin at heart.#“idc if you say no imma do vigilantism ANYWAY. i dont NEED ur permission” is robincore and bruce/danny going #“fine but i'm gonna make sure you dont DIE then”#clone^2

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imababblekat · 7 months

Text

So Close

@badlywritten-stuff2 ,"i am a sucker for spiderman reader w the turtles so i was hit w a potentially galaxy brain (and. shippy.) idea; the reader and leo are about to have like, a spiderman-esqe kiss where the reader is hanging upside down on their web with only half their face showing (you know the scene-- that's ROMANCE baby!) maybe it's a little farther down the line, in terms of their relationship and it's crept into less platonic and more 'i like you' vibes but still very much leo doesnt know our beloved spidey's identity. then the boyz show up and they're all like "YALL WAS GONNA KISS??" and leo and spidey are like "NUH UH" or something idk! have fun with it i just got the sillies. thank you! i hope youre doing well!"

◌ S,p = Spider Persona ◌

~xXx~

The air felt chill across green pebbled skin, a light rain cascading down from the sky and creating a beautiful wash of colors of the city scape for Leo to gaze upon. Despite being a stickler for always staying together, especially when in the world above his home, the mutant turtle felt he exceptionally needed this moment of peace. Away from the loud bustle of his brothers, away from the grueling training he’d tunnel vision himself into in moments like these, and away from the heavy expectations of being not only the eldest but the leader put upon him.

With a heavy breath through his nose and eyes shut closed, the terrapin in blue had not noticed the quiet pitter patter of feet behind him.

“Looks like someone finally learned to get out and have some fun for once.”

Leonardo nearly jumped out of his shell, but was quick to recover and turned with a glare that quickly dissipated at realizing who his uninvited guest was.

“(S,p), what are you doing here?”, he questioned, trying his best to stop the small flutter in his chest.

Sitting on the ledge of the door that led to the roof they both now occupied, the eyes of the friendly neighborhood (S,p) motioned in a way of how one would quirk a brow.

“Uhm, fighting crime. What are you doing out here? Thought Raph was the one to go soloing about.”

Leo looked down to the city streets below, his face scrunching up at being reminded of one of his latest stressors.

“Nothing, I. . .I just needed some air.”

(S,p) frowned at this. The hunched form, stiff shoulders, and shadows beneath gorgeous blue eyes were only a few tell tales of what Leo was currently going through.

“Hey. . .”

Leo watched as (S,p) hoped down from their perch, walking only a few steps before sitting down on the edge beside him. A gentle hand had come to rest on Leo’s forearm, and even through the miraculous suit they wore, he could still feel the comforting heat of their touch.

“Remember what we talked about?”, (S,p) questioned, looking up into Leo’s cerulean(?) eyes, that of which shyly wished to look away but held firm.

“You can’t keep things bottled up, Leo. It’ll weigh you down till it suffocates you.”

Swallowing a tightness in his throat, said terrapin could no longer hold his best friends gaze, and instead focused on the smaller hand still rested upon him.

“I know. I’m still just not used to this kind of thing.”, he admitted, a dusting across his chilled cheeks in the New York night.

For a brief moment, he wondered if you were cold as well, and could not help the feeling of concern at you becoming sick for being out in such weather trying to comfort him. Though, he knew any attempt at dissuading you would be futile. The more time you and the four brothers had spent together, the closer you and honorable terrapin had grown, no way was he going to get rid of you that easily. Your gentle caringness you were about to display proving as such.

“That’s okay. That’s why I promised to always be here when you needed and were ready.”, you beamingly reminded, taking your other hand to gently cup Leo’s face and direct his focus back to you.

The flutter felt earlier returned once more to Leonardo’s chest, his wrapped hand reaching up to gently lay over the hand that still caressed his face.

How had he become so lucky to meet someone like you? He knew not of your true identity, but Leo still fully believed he could trust you with his life and vice versa. Maybe it was because you were not so normal yourself, but whatever the case may be, you never treated Leo like a freak. Not only that, but you saw more of him then some cold hardass leader. You saw past the wall he built, the façade he wore as his duty placed upon him at such a young age. It wasn’t that Leo disliked being a leader, but it hadn’t been easy on him and he very much felt alone at times. Yet, when you had stumbled into their lives, it was like a ray of sun came to cast out the rays of his lonely mind. You had always cared for him, and you still continued to do so, as he found himself doing for you as well.

There was no one he felt closer to in his whole life but you.

“So, do you feel up for talking? Or do you just wanna hang for a while?”, you quietly asked, tucking one of Leo’s mask tails aside.

With a warming smile, Leo stood, taking your hand he still held and pulling you up gently as well.

“I think I’d just like to hang, if you’re not too busy kicking bad guy butt.”

You giggled, a melody like sound to Leo’s ears as he watched you walk back to the place you once sat perched upon.

“For you? Never busy! I know this cute little roof top café we can hit up. It’s got a little private area the owner set aside for me to take breaks at. Won’t have to worry at all about any surprises.”

Watching you jump up to the higher roof ledge, Leo thought about your proposition. Sitting in a cozy area with calming night rain in New Yorker city, enjoying a nice warm cup of coffee with the one person who could light up a whole room? What could be better?

“That sounds really nice actually. They have any pastries?”, Leo asked, getting ready to follow you up.

“As a matter of fact, they do! Oooh, their honey rolls are just ab-shit!”

Leonardo's heart spiked as he saw you suddenly slip on the wet surface above, and with quick reflexes he lurched forward, ready to catch you in his arms. Unfortunately, your own reflexes had kicked in just in time for you to web your self to the dryer, bottom portion of the ledge, leaving you effectively upside down. Combining both of your quick movements, neither Leo or you had time to stop the momentum of your faces colliding together. Despite being masked, there was no doubt in either of your minds the connection you each felt upon one another's lips. As quick as it had happened it was just as quickly over; Leo stepped back faster than lightning and his face lighting up as red as his brothers mask. As for you, your whole body felt it’s only electricity, spidey senses going awry from the incident.

“I-I’m so sorry!! I was just trying to catch you and-“

“N-no, I should apologize! I’m the one who slipped!”

The air grew thick with silence, as neither you or Leo looked at the other, hearts still racing and emotions on the high end. You were still buzzing, a new feeling you had never felt before coursing through you. It was your spidey sense, that you knew, but it hadn’t been the same as every other time you’ve experienced it. It was warm, soothing, elating, like taking a nap cozied up in bed with the window open to allow for a nice spring breeze.

Taking a chance, you glanced over at Leo, the later still looking to the ground. Not aware of the eyes upon him, Leo slowly had reached up to touch his own lips, a glimmer in his eyes that had not gone unnoticed by you. The sight sent a flutter of your own though your chest, as you thought back on all the special moments that you both had shared.

Almost similarly to Leo, you had felt alone for so long. A hero with abilities never heard of before and no one to learn from. Navigating a new world and taking on responsibilities and hardships you’d never asked for. When you met the ninja turtles though, and found yourself in an ever growing friendship with Leonardo, you suddenly found yourself almost not ever remembering what loneliness felt like.

“Hey, Leo?”

Said terrapin was quick to look your way, feeling the shyness of your gaze as you called for him.

“Yeah?”

“Do you uhm. . .”

Your voice fell to a mumble, your characteristic bravado suddenly gone. Leo chanced stepping forward, and once sure that you were comfortable with him moving into your space he continued closer.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

Leo felt a new nervousness within him. You both knew it was an accident, but dear god, did you hate him now? Was this going to change things for the worse? The thought of your friendship dwindling caused an ache in Leo’s heart as he worriedly waited for you to repeat yourself. However, the next words you’d speak would be the complete opposite of the turmoil within his mind.

“I-I said. . .do you want to try that again?”

Leo gulped, his eyes behind his blue mask widening.

“What? Kiss?!”

“Yeah.”

“Uhm, but your mask. Are you sure your okay with?”, Leo gestured to his own face, knowing how important your identiy was to you.

You simply nodded, gaze just as soft as the handsome one now mere inches from you.

“You can pull it down part way.”

“Are you sure?”, Leo asked once more, half lidded stare looking into the eyes of your mask, that of which he swore for but a brief second he saw (e,c) orbs.

“Yeah, I trust you.”

That was all that Leonardo needed to hear, his heart now feeling like it would explode just by your simple, but powerful statement. Ever so gently he peeled down your mask, mind a flutter at finally seeing some hint of your true self. This whole action and moment had been elating for you as well, a thrill in your heart at feeling the brush of Leo's hands across your bare skin.

With the ambiance of falling rain, glowing lights of ranging hues, and the warmth of the others breath, the kiss Leo was about to share with you, would be a cherished memory for a life time and more.

“Hey, guy’s! I found him!”

Never had you pulled your mask up so quickly, and never had Leonardo let out such a roaring groan. Foot falls came to a halt as Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo hopped onto the roof top you both occupied.

“What the hell, man?! We’ve been tryin’ to reach you all night!”, Raph glowered throwing his hands up as his brother in blue sent him the sharpest of glares.

“There’s been a Foot Clan robbery, and NYPD needs back up.”, Donnie hurriedly spoke, too focused on one of his gadgets to take notice of the same death glare sent his way.

Ultimately, it was Mikey who had come to read the room, going to give you an excited greeting when he took notice of the bashful look displayed on your mask, Leo’s deep scowl, and the close proximity between you both. The biggest, toothiest of smiles breached the youngest face, but Leo had no time to stop him from speaking out.

“Yooo!! Were you two about to do what I think you were about to do?!”

Raphael and Donnie confusedly looked to Mikey, Leo furiously making motions to get Mikey to shut up.

“What are you talking about, Mikey?”, Raph spat, not in the mood for his antics.

“Oh you knooow~ Leo and (s,p), sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

Realization smacked both Raph and Donnie in the face at that moment as they quickly looked between you both, each’s expression brimming with surprise.

“Wait, seriously?! Is that why you weren’t answering your phone?!, Donnie gawked while adjusting his glasses.

“So, like. . .with mask or no mask?”, Raph questioned with a shit eating grin.

Another heavy groan reverberated from Leonardo as his brother huddled together to begin their collective teasing. How was he going to survive this? Cheeks hot with embarrassment as his brother laughed and continued to banter from a distance, Leo turned to apologize to you, only to find you suddenly absent. Leo felt a sudden sadness at your disappearance, but a ping to his phone caught his attention. A text notification, above the many missed calls from his siblings, caught his eyes.

“Meet you dorks at the robbery! Coffee after? Or will you be too busy dying from your brothers torment? ; )”

Leo let out a breathy chuckle, and with a warm grin and even warmer heart, sent a message in return.

“For you? Never busy!”

~xXx~

#bayverse leo x reader #bayverse leonardo x reader #bayverse tmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt #aged up tmnt #tmnt spiderman au #badlywritten-stuff2 #imababblekat's writing

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indynerdgirl · 7 months

Text

For my fellow Top Gun: Maverick fans:

So we all know about Mach 9 day, right? That the final Darkstar test flight takes place on Oct 22 according to the calendar we briefly see Mav knock on in the opening sequence.

But there's also another day on the calendar that the fandom is overlooking (or maybe I just haven't come across fics/other fan creations that include/mention it) - HALLOWEEN! 🎃

According to this calendar, Halloween falls on a Thursday during the first full week of training. Just think of all the shenanigans our favorite Naval aviators could get into on Halloween:

- Penny having a costume contest at the Hard Deck & everyone tries to out do each other

- They all make a bet during a training exercise and the loser has to wear an embarrassing Halloween costume when they all go out later

- In a Cinderella-esq situation, someone has a fun evening with a stranger who refuses to take their mask off & is now trying to figure out who it was/is shocked when they find out who they spent the evening with

- Maybe personnel bring their kids on base for trick-or-treating or the base hosts a safe trick-or-treating/trunk-or-treat type event for the community and the Daggers have to help - cue a single parent meet cute

- Ghost stories on the beach

- Pumpkin carving contest

- Watching scary movies

- They all go to a haunted house & someone talks a big game about not getting scared and then that person ends up freaking out the most (it's Jake - you can't tell me that's not Jake 😆)

- The squad turns one of the base hangers into a haunted house, with or without permission

And there's another thing that I haven't seen too frequently and that's Thanksgiving!🦃

While we don't have an exact timeline of when everything happened after Oct 22, it seems fairly safe to assume that they're probably back from the mission right before Thanksgiving.

So some ideas for Thanksgiving are:

- Mav being all MavDad and inviting all his baby birds to his place for Thanksgiving

- Mav & Bradley's first Thanksgiving since reconciling

- Penny & Mav having their first Thanksgiving as a couple, with Bradley & Amelia

- Someone getting invited home for Thanksgiving by someone else

- Daggers attempt a Friends-giving & it turns out none of them can actually cook

Do with these ideas what you will and have fun! And if you do end up creating something with one of these, please tag me! ☺️🎃👻🦇🧛🏻🥧🍂🦃

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jesslockwood · 8 months

Text

Detecting the Haunted Masterlist

Chapter Two

Word Count: 2.3k

Pairing(s): Anthony Lockwood x Ex-Detective!Reader

Warnings: Angst, a bit of Fluff, Swearing, Talk of Gore, Blood, Mentions of Death, small details of a death/ murder.

A/n: OMGGGG here's the second chapter, and where everything just goes to shit lol. I love causing pain Let me know what y'all think so far!!!

!!! PLEASE REMEMBER TO REBLOG !!!

It's a free form of "payment" for my hard work for the time and effort I put into my works

Thank you and enjoy ❤️

Lockwood opens the door, surprised to see you standing there in the rain, drenched and shivering. It was nearing dusk, and the haze of the rain and light fading from the day, and the street lamps started to turn on, the glow of them lit up your face.

It had only been two days since he last saw you, and even standing there soaked with your converse full of water sloshing when you leaned onto either foot, holding a grey duffle bag, you took his breath away. It was just the same as your badass move in the house during the ghost fight, even when he saw you getting fired up over his endless and harmless flirting.

Lockwood finally looked into your eyes, and it wasn’t just the rain that was pouring onto your face, there were tears coming out of your eyes.

He wanted to bring you into his arms to comfort you, and never let go. That is until he's brought out of his thoughts, when Lucy and George shove their way into the small entryway, to see the same sight he saw.

“Lockwood Let the poor Detective in!” Lucy says, before making a path for you to step inside.

When you planted your feet into the home, Lucy maneuvers to shut the door behind you. The home wasn’t what you expected three agents under a small agency to have. To be quite frank, It was quite a bit nicer than you expected.

“Uhh, I’m not a detective any longer, actually.” you blurt out. It seemed as the three heads turned right towards you all at once with the same shocked expression.

They all turned to look at each other like they were having a private conversation with their eyes.

“Uh, then uh- Y/n What brings you here?” Lockwood asks with his soft puppy-dog-esq eyes.

That was probably the first time you’ve ever seen Lockwood stumble over his words.

“I needed a place to stay for the night? I can crash on a couch or whatever…” you pause swallowing, “I’d be leaving tomorrow by train, out to the countryside where my mother lives… since I’ve got no job, or job prospects.”

You start drawing circles with your feet. Waiting for their answer.

“Of course you can stay, for as long as you like, actually!” she said through gritted teeth, giving a side eye to the other agent you haven't met, with a curly black mop of hair on his head.

“Just don’t go giving her a job now.” he mumbles, pretty loudly, rolling his eyes, before walking off.

Before she gives him another glare, “Here, follow me, We should get you dried off, and you can sleep in the attic with me.”she says before dragging you up the stairs.

Lockwood gives you a sympathetic smile, before he's out of sight.

“Ignore George, he was the same way when I was employed here.” she mentions, before opening a door to a bathroom, giving you a towel. You start to squish the water out of your clothes.

“I’ll give you the Tour later.” she says, “c’mon I'll show you the attic.”

You got upstairs basically being dragged by Lucy.

It had been a couple of hours since you had entered 35 Portland Row, and Lockwood was sitting in the library, trying to distract him from what just happened. He liked you, but he definitely didn't want you to get involved in all the mess that always seemed to trail behind the three who already lived there.

However, the real issue was, he didn't want you to go. He’d miss your banter too much, and especially your wit, and how you weren't charmed by his antics.

He could help but smile, just thinking about how fired up you had gotten over the conversations you've had.

He’s pulled from his thoughts, when he sees you entering slowly through the doorway.

“Hey.” you whisper.

“Hi.” Lockwood greets you, putting his book down, and sitting up straighter.

You didn't seem to be soaked anymore, and you were wearing an extremely long t-shirt, with some yellow fuzzy socks on your feet.

“I uh…” you pause, “I just wanted to thank you… and to say goodbye.” you say solemnly.

Lockwood was contemplating his next words as you sat down across from him.

“We’re the reason you got fired… isn't it?”

your eyes widen like a deer in headlights, as you gulp before choosing your next words.

“It’s my fault really… I shouldn’t have helped you…” you say with tears starting to form in your eyes, “There were other reasons too… but it doesn't matter now.”

You take a shaky breath before telling him, “Don’t blame yourself.”

He looks at you with sympathy, before, gently and slowly placing his hand on yours.

“I’ll be okay. My mother moved out to the countryside after my father… She probably needs my company anyways…” you say trying to avoid mentioning it.

You get up to your feet, feeling claustrophobic from the weight of talking about it boxing you in.

“Stay safe, Lockwood.” you say before heading out of the room, to bed.

The next day, you creep out of Lucy’s bed, that you both had an almost sleepover in.

You couldn't remember the last time you had giggled like that in the early hours of the morning, out of your tired mind as she told you so many of her stories such as the ones of the Quill Kipps vs. Lockwood, or the funny mess ups of their agency, or even better, the failings of the Fittes team. You had even told her of some of the pranks you and James had done to Barnes, which he never could pin it on who did it.

You wished you could somehow stay close by, and become a friend of Lucy’s. You felt if you had the option, the two of you would be inseparable.

You leave a note for Lucy of your mailing address so the two of you could communicate when you had the time to write letters. You really wanted to say goodbye, but you knew it would just make it harder to leave someone you felt already so close too.

As soon as you headed downstairs, the smell of food filled your senses, and it was delightful.

You decided to skip breakfast, and just eat the snack you had stashed in your locker when you were employed instead. You didn’t want any trouble from George for staying around much longer, nor to face Lockwood. You didn’t think you could refuse to linger just to be close to him, which scared you.

After your father had died, things just shifted. Your mother didn't let people into the house, and rarely went out. She just shut down everything that used to make her eyes light up. For the hope that one day your father would come back. The same had probably happened to yourself. You made a choice to drown yourself in work, but now that was gone, you didn't know what you had anymore to keep you going, and not dwelling.

You had got your shoes on, that were still damp, before turning to the door staring at it for a good minute.

You were broken out of your thoughts, when someone spoke up, “You do know Lucy’s right?”

You turned around to see that It was no one other than Anthony Bloody Lockwood.

“What do you mean?” you ask confused.

“I mean,” he takes a step forward cautiously like you’d run if he moved too fast, “You could stay for as long as you like.”

You blink a few times, like if you blinked him away, you could maybe have unheard what you just heard.

“I mean, if you want to. You could even work your wage here. You're not an agent so I couldn’t employ you as one without the proper training, but you could do research with George, or even just…something?”

he pauses, taking a breath, “I just can't let you go home without trying to convince you to stay… even if it's only for a little while?”

You think on it for a moment, with him fidgeting with the silence. Flashes of your fathers warnings come back to you, but you ignore the caution. You had to do it… after that case the fire for being an agent wouldn't snuff itself out.

“I’ll make a deal with you, Lockwood. You train me as an agent, and I’ll stay. I’ll just do research until I get all my grade levels.” you say trying to strike a deal.

He looks conflicted, like there was an angel and devil on his shoulders, shouting at him all at once.

He must have decided to be the devil's advocate agreeing, “We have a deal. But any seriously dangerous cases are left to myself, Lucy and George, got it?”

You nod pretending to tip a hat to him that wasn't there.

He laughs, and it warms your heart.

You take off your damp shoes, as he guides you towards the kitchen.

He yells off towards the direction of the kitchen before the two of you enter, “Hey, George, we're going to need another plate for our new colleague, Y/n!”

You had been staying there for a week by now, and you were ignoring the side eye George kept giving you, as you followed him like a lost puppy, to the library every day. He seemed just annoyed with your presence and the more you ignore his ignorance the more of a bad mood he seems to be in.

You were glad you at least had Lucy on your side completely, with her giving you the tour of the house, minus what was behind the mystery door, which she defended that it should be Lockwood to show you since it was his home. But she shared a lot of things with you, like a sister would, to confide in. It was nice to have that, since you never had any siblings.

Lockwood was iffy. You didn’t know exactly where he stood half the time. He still seemed conflicted and you couldn't pinpoint the whole reason why. You thought it was just his complex feelings on you becoming an agent, but you didn’t think that was the whole truth to it. He was one of the harder people to read.

During the week, nearing dusk, after Lucy, George and Lockwood had left for a case, you heard a knock at the door, as you were in the kitchen researching the next case they had lined up.

When you opened the door, you saw James, looking slightly stressed, holding a file folder in his hand.

“James? How did you-”

“-Find you? There was a rumour that started from Kate that you've been hanging around the George Karim kid, and that you were living here.” he smiles trying to be genuine, but you knew something was bothering him.

“Kate may be a gossip monger but she got it right this time…” you mention, before asking, “So why are you here, out of the blue, other than to check up on me?”

“Since you couldn't access your Dad’s file… I may have flirted with the files clerk to get it.” he says looking guilty, since he knew that was a reason why you got fired, for trying to access it.

“Don't worry it’s a copy, so you can keep it. Edith copied it for me… just now I'm going on a date with her because of you!” he half jokes trying to lighten the mood a bit before handing it to you.

“Do you want me to stay, or-”

“I think I need to face this myself.” you say, before he nods giving a small smile, taking his leave.

You looked down at the file like it was death itself.

You gulp, before closing the door, and heading to the library to read it.

You were in utter shock. You couldn't believe the piece of paper in your hands and what it said. The pain you felt was even worse than before, causing you to choke up, like you couldn't breathe.

You hyper ventilated for a minute, before sobbing your eyes out.

It was his fault.

You could barely fathom all the anger you had inside of you, stretching its way out from the pit of your stomach over your heart.

You hated his guts. He destroyed everything you had hoped and dreamed for. For your father to come home. To even just have a father. But it was taken all away, and the hope was buried with him.

Now he was six feet under because he was slaughtered by a black market seller, trying to protect him because he wouldn't go. Your father had to have warned them. But it says that he insisted on staying, when your fathers death could have been prevented. If only he hadn’t stayed or convinced his colleague to stay.

Your father was dead, because of Anthony Lockwood.

You would never forgive him for this. You didn’t think you ever could.

He was the leader and he led someone into their death. An innocent man who had a family waiting for him to come home and to be reunited with.

The only thing you were given was an empty coffin to represent his body and all it symbolized was the complete emptiness you had from that day on.

There was no question, once you became a full fledged agent you had to get out of here.

Far away as possible to Lockwood and co, and Anthony Lockwood himself who destroyed everything you had held dear.

Taglist: @waitingforthesunrise

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jomiddlemarch · 4 months

Text

While You Were Sleeping

Hermione took a deep breath. The breeze that came through the open windows smelled of both night-blooming jasmine and cherry Bakewell tarts, at least to her, though she wasn’t about to ask his opinion. Before she glanced across the room again, she remembered standing in the office at the Ministry with the Head of International and Interspecies Diplomacy, the way her robes had just grazed the ground because the Hemming charm was finally working properly, the glow she’d felt when Godiva Canon-Crisparkle had announced Hermione had been specially requested for the assignment and that Chief Canon-Crisparkle expected that once again, Hermione would live up to her informal title as Brightest Witch of Her Age (a title Hermione rather loathed, but had to put up with as otherwise she seemed to be either sneeringly dismissive or falsely and sickeningly humble) and conduct herself in such a way as to bring further honor and glory to the Ministry and also lock down the trading rights, embassy site, and the official and magically notarized alliance with the Eguzkiko. Hermione had nodded smartly, acquiesced as graciously as she could when told she would be accompanied by a member of the Ministry legal department, and screamed silently when she was told who it would be.

Draco Malfoy.

Correction: Draco Black Malfoy, Esq.

(Part of the silent scream was triggered by the fact of his training and employment in Legal, when she’d pegged him as Potions or an Architect, either of which she could have accepted better given his past and family background and his decision shortly after his father was sent to Azkaban to feature his mother’s family name as the heir to the House of Black. This, however, was not new information, only data she had been struggling to accept for the past fifteen years.)

(Ginny and Padma had a theory to account for the remainder of the silent scream, but it was one Hermione categorically refused to entertain, even when Luna asked if she would entertain it non-categorically and how exactly would that be different? There was a second silent scream at the combination of frustration of only getting challenged by Ravenclaws at this late date in her life when years to dealing with Harry, Ron, and occasionally stubborn Neville had left her ill-equipped for actual debate.)

Still, the key bit was that she’d been able to hold her tongue and appear to keep her temper and channeled the string of obscenities and full body tantruming she wanted to indulge in into preparing most thoroughly for the mission, though the relative lack of information on Euskara left some holes which Hermione had to hope were not gaping. She altered her trusted blue beaded bag to appear as a slim chocolate leather portfolio and agreed to pack a swimsuit and some actual cotton nighties rather than relying on Transfiguration, since her Transfigured clothes were never cut quite as well as she liked, rather what Ginny flat-out described as dowdy enough for that cow Umbridge.

She spent a week brushing up on language charms, stocked up on coconut oil conditioner at Boots, and accepted the bottle of Glenmorangie that Minerva pressed on her during their monthly tea. She’d planned to use it as a guest-gift it that suited the mores of the Eguzkiko but she found herself reconsidering, given the its utility in becoming black-out drunk.

She looked across the suite at the wide bed with its plump embroidered pillows, its billowing linen curtains tied to each post, the nosegay of blossoms overflowing a small vase on the bedside table.

The singular bed.

She breathed in slowly through her nose, counted to five.

There was only one bed.

“There’s only one bed,” she announced, sounding half-strangled to herself. Draco Black Malfoy, Esq. had an impassive expression, so she couldn’t tell if she sounded half-strangled to him or whether he didn’t care or whether he was losing his aristocratic shite in the most stiff upper lip Pureblood manner.

“Yes,” he replied. “Only one. They must have made some assumptions about us—"

“Why?” she said. “Why can’t you simply Transfigure a second bed? It doesn’t have to be another one like that, a cot would do—”

“Didn’t you read the brief, Madam Granger?” he asked. He used her formal title, which was a vast improvement over both Mudblood and you, which were the only other ways she could recall hearing him address her. He still sounded entirely superior.

“I did but do go on,” she said. “I can tell you’re simply dying to.”

“It would be the height of bad manners to Transfigure anything in this suite. Everything here has been specially chosen and conveys the regard of the Eguzkiko. Furthermore, they have a prohibition on using magic in the bedchamber. And finally, I don’t think you want to begin your talks by telling them they have made a grave error about the nature of our relationship. It was indicated that anything construed as a significant loss of face would very likely not be surmountable,” he explained. He smiled and it wasn’t as snide as it could have been. It wasn’t a smirk. She knew his smirks of old. This was something else, an expression she couldn’t say she’d seen before on an adult man, let alone Draco Black Malfoy. “You are the diplomat here, not I.”

“Yes, well, that’s obvious,” she huffed.

“Indeed?” he said, more civilly than she would have expected.

“You had to rub it in, about the brief and the rest of it,” Hermione said, glossing over his assessment that the Eguzkiko saw them as bedfellows, married or otherwise engaged to each other. “A diplomat isn’t trying to take every chance they can to assert their dominance and make the other person embarrassed. For the record, I don’t feel embarrassed, just annoyed.”

“I wasn’t—that is, I didn’t intend to,” he said. His cheeks were faintly pink. He was…flustered? Irritated? Apologetic?

“Forget it,” she interrupted. “What we really need to do is decide what we’re going to do about that,” she pointed to the bed.

“You may take the side closer to the bath,” Draco said, raising an eyebrow when her mouth dropped open. “Did you think I was going to offer to sleep on the floor for the next month and a half?”

“A gentleman would,” she said. Might. And then she would have waved her hand and said it didn’t matter, they were both adults and colleagues and would have had the upper hand (previously waved) and the moral high ground and he would be the one feeling…wobbly. The rosiness in his cheeks had disappeared as if it had never been present and she’d hallucinated it. She would have preferred hallucinating the single bed.

“But Madam Granger, I am a Wizard and a barrister. Neither qualifies me as a gentleman,” he replied, smiling again, a little wry, amused. Attractive, if she could forget he was Draco Sodding Black Bloody Malfoy, Esquire Thorn In Her Side.

“Don’t hog the blankets,” she said, walking around to what was now her side of the bed. It was nicer to be close to the bath and it put him nearer to the door, which was the defensive position in the room. Much good that would do them, as they couldn’t use their wands or even do wandless magic and also, they were being welcomed as a diplomatic party and shouldn’t have to anticipate intruders or rogue Death Eater sympathizers. She set her portfolio down. Ordinarily, she would unpack, hang up some robes, arrange her shoes in a row in the wardrobe, but that seemed too personal with Draco standing there watching her.

“Of course not,” he said. “I hope you don’t snore, as I won’t be able to cast Quietus or Septum Stabilis—”

“I don’t,” she snapped.

“Weasley would have complained, I gather,” Draco said. It was clear he relished a chance to disparage Ron, even at a slight remove.

“He wouldn’t dare. He spent most of that time on the run on the run from Harry and me,” Hermione said. Draco’s brow furrowed in a more appealing confusion. “When we were hunting Horcruxes, Ron scarpered off. Harry never said I made any noise at night, said he sometimes checked on me to make sure I was alive. Lavender and Parvati never mentioned anything when we shared a room at Hogwarts and they had plenty to say about my hair. I think you’re safe.”

“I very much doubt that,” Draco said under his breath. Approximately. She didn’t have especially good hearing and she heard him, just as she was supposed to.

“You have appropriate pyjamas?” Hermione said, preparing to send him off to fetch some, preferably in a dull plaid, as every other color seemed like it would set his grey eyes and fair hair to perfection. She regretted the dressing gown she’d brought, thinking no one would see it but herself.

“I came prepared for every eventuality, Madam Granger,” he said. It sounded like he didn’t regularly sleep in pyjamas then. She would not think about Draco Black Malfoy naked in her bed. She would not.

She did and sighed. He noticed. Misconstrued.

“Perhaps it won’t be so bad,” he said. “We’ll likely be knackered by long days of negotiation, all the visiting and meetings that are required—we’ll probably drop off instantly and the bed is big. You won’t even know I’m in it—”

“I’ll know,” she said, shrugged. “I’ve survived worse.”

“I know,” he said softly.

#dramione #there was only one bed #post-hogwarts #enemies to friends to lovers #one-shot for now #humor #world-building

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taz-ma-raz-skylar · 2 months

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Taz Skylar on training his body and cooking skills ahead of One Piece Season 2!

Taz Skylar was met with an overwhelmingly warm welcome from One Piece fans at the 2024 MEFCC

By Sarah Kuleib ( February 15, 2024 )

Every pirate crew needs a cook. With a captain like Monkey D Luffy, whose ship seems to sail to the sounds of his stomach, finding a cook who could whip up the most delicious bowl of fried rice to join the Straw Hat Pirates was pretty high on his priority list. Luffy finds his cook in Sanji, and Netflix’s smash hit One Piece finds their Sanji in Taz Skylar.

When the Spanish-British-Lebanese Olivier Award-nominated actor was announced to be playing the romantic chef, Sanji, in Netflix’s live-action adaptation of One Piece, Skylar was catapulted to international stardom.

Skylar and his co-star Iñaki Godoy (Luffy), were recently in Abu Dhabi for the 12th edition of the Middle East Film and Comic Con (MEFCC), where they were met by thousands of passionate fans in straw hats queuing up for hours to take photographs, get autographs, and witness the pair’s charming interactions at panel discussions.

Esquire Middle East sat down with Taz Skylar at the MEFCC to discuss his intense stunt training, Season 2 of One Piece, and what’s in store for the rest of 2024.

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ESQ: You’re a man of many titles: actor, screenwriter, thrill-seeker, professional surfboard creator. What drew you to each of those things and how do they come together to inform one another in your career and life?

TAZ: I was a really shy kid and I never used to leave home much. Thrill-seeking, I used to see it in movies and I thought “Oh that would be cool!” Surfing was the first thing that I did. I remember the first time I got in the water with a surfboard and a wave hit me – it wasn’t even very big but I was little, and I was like “Ahhh!”, and I got out [of the water]. The guy who was teaching me – he was called Juanito, and he’s still my friend today, 15 years later – was like “What are you doing man? Get in!” He grabbed me, put me back on the board, and pushed me out and that changed my life that day. That was the gateway. I got into other scary stuff and I would get angry at being scared. So if I was scared I would be like, “Cool, now there’s no choice, now you gotta do it.” That kind of spiraled and now it’s just a thing that I do.

Writing and acting… well, acting was an accident.

ESQ: A happy one?

TAZ: It was a happy accident! I’m very happy about it! I only like acting when I like the thing I’m acting in; nobody likes acting when they don’t like the thing they’re acting in! So, I only act in things that I like – at least now, I’ve definitely made that choice – and I always like what I’m writing. I want to make films, I want to make shows. Being in them is a cool part of it, but I want to make stuff. In a world where financial security is there, I don’t find much point to life other than leaving a legacy I can be proud of, and I think that can achieved by making stuff.

ESQ: There’s a different joy in filmmaking and writing.

TAZ: Yeah, yeah! You feel resolved in what you’re doing and connected. You have some sort of choice over what it can say or what the outcome can be. One Piece in particular was really cool because Matt and the whole team were really good to us in terms of saying “What do you want to do with it? What do you want to bring to it?” and that’s not always the case. When I do a writer’s room with other writers, my thinking is like: What do you like? Do you want to sit on a chair? A yoga mat? Do you want to bob around on a skateboard? What makes you most creative? Because whatever it is, do that thing. That’s the kind of environment I want to create and be a part of. When a film or show or play has been made in that way, you can feel it, you can feel that it’s been made very rag-tag.

ESQ: On the topic of One Piece, how did you prepare for the role of Sanji – mentally and physically, I know you did all of your own stunts – and with season 2 confirmed, is there anything you learned that will inform or change how you prepare for season 2?

TAZ: Ooh… yeah I did all my own stunts! Part of how I prepared for it… I really went psychopathic on it. Like, let’s throw absolutely everything we possibly can at the wall because we don’t have much to stick right now, we’re starting from zero.

It was 4 hours of training in the morning, then I’d cook a dish we needed to do for the show, repeat that dish over and over again, another 4 hours, then we’d go to the sauna and stretch, they’d pull on my legs and push on my back. That made me improve really quick but what it also did was decimate my legs. I have scar tissue on the inside of my ligaments and it took me about a year to feel like I could land on my legs without pain – I used to duct-tape my legs! I had to be quiet about it so they’d let me do my own stunts.

There was no real way of improving whilst not hurting myself because of how far we needed to go. Whereas for the second season, because I’ve maintained my level and haven’t stopped training ever since– I trained this morning with Iñaki at the UFC gym [in Abu Dhabi]! Iñaki came with me to a kickboxing session and he’s gotten so good at tricking in between the seasons too! So, because we’re kind of at a level that we’ve maintained, the second season for me is about how much quicker I can be. There are not many new kicks or moves to learn, so it’s more about how great we can make those moves. Part of it is going: instead of training 8 hours today, I’m going to train 4 and focus on choreography. Or maybe today I’m just going to do 2 and then stretch, because the less injured everything is, the quicker everything moves.

So for season 2, I want to enjoy it more, and I want to make what we had a lot better… and I want [to do] the party table kick.

ESQ: Was there a specific stunt that was the most difficult to do?

TAZ: Yeah! So there was this one where we jump over a pool, kick the Fishman mid-air, and land on a little rock. And that was all practicals! It was so difficult to do because he was underwater and they had to time pulling him out of the water at the exact same time that I jumped, and landing at the same place so that I could kick, and then there was another wire pull that took him to the other side of the pool. That must’ve taken an hour and a half which doesn’t sound like that much, but we were up against time. I remember thinking: “If we don’t get this, they’re going to cut it. They’re going to cut the stunt and this stunt will never exist.” It was the last take where we just managed it and they all looked at it and went “Cool, we got it! We can keep it!”, and we just started cheering. Isn’t it mad to think that there’s a world in which half an hour would’ve made the difference between it existing and not existing?

ESQ: Now, I must ask… how do you really feel about Oregano?

TAZ: [Laughs] Ha! I love it! I put it on salads! It’s not for savages! It’s nice – have oregano it’s good for you!

ESQ: Who and what are some of your personal influences as an artist?

TAZ: Florian Zeller is my favorite writer. Rappers are my favorite poets. I like old films. Keanu Reeves in Point Break made me want to skydive and surf and jump out of planes. I love Bond. My dad loves Bond, we used to have a box set. I love the way those films are made. I just worked with Martin Campbell who made two of my favorite Bond films.

ESQ: What’s in store for Taz Skylar this year?

TAZ: I’ve got four TV shows in development, with different production companies. One of which is called Seesaw which made a lot of Florian Zeller’s films that I’m really excited about! I don’t have that much time until we go shoot [One Piece] again. There’s a book I’m trying really hard to get the rights to and adapt, so I’m chasing the author about that. I’m going to try and see if I can get all of those things done before I go shoot again.

https://www.esquireme.com/culture/interviews/taz-skylar-on-training-his-body-and-cooking-skills-ahead-of-one-piece-season-2

#taz skylar

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