#he’s there to hang out with frostbite and that’s pretty much it
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Actual Scientists Jack & Maddie AU Part 4
Part 1 & 2
Part 3
Explaining The Papers (™) to Frostbite takes a While (also ™).
Though with no more imminent threat of “Vlad maybe finding out he’s the ghost king and becoming Insufferable (also also ™) about it” Danny was feeling a lot less stressed - Sam and Tucker, too, if the fact that they were actually drinking their tea now instead of just barely sipping at it was any indication - or they could’ve only just cooled enough to actually drink, the FF did tend to overestimate the level of heat they could tolerate just a tad.
Not to say that he wasn’t still stressed, given the whole “the Justice League is trying to summon ME” thing. But like. They were reaching out hoping for peace, not hoping to skin/dissect/exterminate him.
Plus they don’t know how to summon him; he figures he has time. Hopefully enough to get Frostbite’s advice.
And mostly to cool his own nerves, because now that he knows they did try to help and are helping the Justice League is Cool again! And they want to meet him!
Well, they want to meet the ghost king, but they already watched him! They thought he was a capable hero!
Danny isn’t really used to getting positive feedback, so being called “good hands” by Superman - Superman! The hero! The Alien hero! (well, one of them. Martian Manhunter is also amazing but he hasn’t complimented Danny in person yet so he doesn’t have any expectations for Danny to live up to. Maybe. Hypothetically).
The JL is so cool and they think he’s cool! Or at least capable! Except now he has to impress them not just as a hero but as a king?
Yeah.
Suffice to say, Danny is now a little nervous.
(And also maybe redirecting his nerves intentionally to be about the JL so he doesn’t have to breathe into a bag about being probably the only thing between the Zone and eventual total dimensional collapse because Frostbite was very ‘this is normal and okay’ about it but it’s eventual total dimensional collapse [ALL OF THEM] and it is Danny’s problem. But no, he’s just nervous about meeting the JL. Totally.)
Reciting pretty much his whole life story - well, the basics of his parents’ work and then pretty much everything from the portal onward - gives him time to untense, and honestly, getting it all out to a mostly uninvolved third party - one he likes and trusts - really is a weight off his shoulders.
He’ll never tell Jazz; the amount of I-told-you-so-energy she’d leech into the air would be unbearable.
Sam and Tucker tag in here and there too, and mostly take over when they get to the part where the GIW bought Fenton Works for a short while to try and destroy the zone. Danny winces at the memory of his behavior back then.
The explanation runs for longer than it could have, given the aside they make when they get to his parents’ theories.
Frostbite is quick to confirm the combat-as-a-positive-social-behavior thing, and it turns out Sam is right about how to tell the difference.
Of course, Danny thinks they were all trying to kill him the rest of the way, but then that’s not a concern most ghosts have, so Frostbite offers his own perspective.
Skulker wants to hang his pelt on a wall: clearly unfriendly.
Technus is just having fun - enjoying playing with new technology in the living realm and throwing Danny around/being thrown around. He’s a friend. The whole world domination idea isn’t malicious as far as he’s concerned, because damage to the living realm doesn’t mean much to ghosts. What do they care about the living? What is the value of a single world as collateral when weighed against the games of ghosts?
If Danny wants him to stop that, Frostbite tells him, he can just propose a new game.
Ember genuinely just wanted a powerboost from the Earth that first time, but her returns since are a gesture of friendship.
Spectra definitely hates him though. Which is good. He wouldn’t know how to feel if Frostbite had said that that whole mess was an attempt at friendship.
As for the thing with his parents, Frostbite compares it to winning a tournament only to find out the other participants lost intentionally. You haven’t really won a competition if the competitors were not competing.
Like going in for a handshake only to get a “too slow” - even more insulting if it’s the first “too slow” you’ve ever gotten - Tucker suggests.
Or like asking a parent to a hug and only getting a wave. Not even a high-five.
They each go through another three cups of tea before the story winds down, Frostbite doing adding little more than the occasional nod or noise of acknowledgement - barring the social combat explanation, of course.
It’s nice, Danny thinks, to have an adult that actually listens. Even if said adult is a dead yeti.
“You have given me much to think on Great One, Friends Sam and Tucker,” he says after the three of them finally run out of words, giving each of them a nod. “And soon, we shall have much more to discuss. First, however, it seems that I have a meeting to call. And you have living needs that require attending to yet. Eat, rest, and, if you would, return here… let’s say the day after tomorrow? Then we can begin to discuss the…issues. At hand.”
Back in the Specter Speeder, Tucker wonders aloud if “call a meeting” is code for yelling at the Observants.
Then he looks at his PDA and realizes how late it’s gotten - namely, past all of their curfews - and they promptly turn the conversation to getting their story straight (and three backups because they’re all feeling paranoid with how high-stakes everything suddenly became. Not that the occasional ghost looking to wreck earth wasn't already high-stakes, but the whole political aspect made it feel... different).
***
Danny is thankful it’s summer vacation at the moment, because the next morning is a Monday.
He doesn’t know how he’d manage school with his mind miles away wondering about things like “how to king” and “how to maintain the fabric of reality” and other totally normal, non-stressful topics.
Just normal high schooler things.
His parents are gone before he’s even up, leaving a note for him and Jazz on the kitchen table.
They eat a quiet breakfast together.
The whole house is quiet. It’s unnatural, he thinks, and the small frown on Jazz’ face tells him she feels the same.
They normally enjoy the brief lulls of quiet that their parents leave behind, but this is perhaps the first time they’ve ever missed breakfast - well, the first time they haven’t been in the house during breakfast at least. A welding torch, clanging metal, clinking glass, minor explosions, and excited shouting is the usual background noise of their morning meal - whether from the basement door or at the table itself.
This time, the silence is disquieting.
Even more so since it means that Danny could, at any time, be teleported somewhere. He really should have asked Frostbite about how that works before they left - they’d already missed curfew anyway.
After they’ve both finished eating, he takes the opportunity to fill Jazz in on the whole… everything.
She is, to put it lightly, Not Impressed.
“-s bad enough they let you fight Pariah Dark in the first place! You should never have been in that position! I know that you’re a capable fighter Danny, but you’re fourteen-”
“I’m almost fifteen,” he grumbles.
“You’re not yet fifteen,” she says, glaring into the distance, expression practically snarling. Danny thinks she might be imagining strangling an Observant, based on the… choice words she’d had for them earlier. “And they want you to be a king!”
Tucker chooses that moment to arrive, walking right into the path of where Jazz is glaring and freezing until Sam shoves him out of her way to close the door and drag him into the kitchen.
“Who spat in your cereal?” she asks, moving to sit and kicking the fourth chair out for Tucker.
“Whoever or whatever is responsible for deciding that a fourteen year old child should be king when there are no doubt numerous thousand-plus year old candidates who don’t have human lives they still need to attend to!” She bellows, throwing her hands up in frustration.
The trio exchange a glance while she takes a few calming breaths.
Danny kind of wants to point out that he isn’t a child, he’s a teenager. And she’s barely older than him.
But he does have some sense of self-preservation, even if there’s only so much self left to preserve. Heh.
Then she gasps.
“Danny! You’re still half alive!”
“Er, yes?”
“Maybe that’s why the Watching Wraiths didn’t say anything! Maybe you can’t be the Ghost King if you’re still partly alive!”
“But Frostbite said-” Tucker starts, only to be cut off by Jazz.
“Frostbite could be wrong.” She sniffs. “And even if he isn’t you there are millenia before it becomes a problem. The Zone can wait for you to graduate high school before it goes demanding things of you. Or longer.”
The words are decisive.
Still….
“The Justice League-”
“Can cope. They’ll be a little paranoid about retaliation, but a little paranoia won’t kill them. And maybe letting them stew a bit will teach them to be more active about taking down genocidal organizations before they hurt so many people.”
“That’s a great idea,” Sam says, tone saying the opposite, “except the part where they’re actively working on figuring out how to summon the ghost king - who is Danny - and are probably also going to try and make contact with Phantom at some point - who is also Danny.”
Jazz frowns.
“Well. You don’t have to be a king to talk to the Justice League. Just tell them you’re still too young - which is true - or that the coronation is going to take a long time to plan - which, according to Frostbite, would be a reasonable claim. And also true since you will not be taking the throne until you are at least 18 if the Fenton Peeler and I have anything to say about it.”
“Uh. I don’t know if the Peeler is the best idea. With your…aim.” Tucker cringes, shrinking back in his seat when her unhappy frown snaps to him.
Then she looks thoughtful.
“You know what. I’ll just use a specter deflector. You mentioned before how humans are ghosts in the ghosts zone; see if they still feel like making a child a king when they’ve got an unstrikable target punching their lights out about it.”
“Please don’t antagonize a bunch of ghosts who could try and attack you while you're sleeping,” Danny pleads.
“It’s bad enough that all this has impacted your sleep and grades and attendance records so much; I’m not going to let a bunch of ghost nobles - or whatever they’re called - mess things up for you even more. If they don’t like my proposals they can un-friendly fight me about it, and if you’re worried about retribution I can turn on the house defenses in my room when I sleep. But I am not letting this go.”
She stands.
“Since he didn’t give you a time, we’ll leave to visit Frostbite after breakfast tomorrow-”
“We?” the trio ask hesitantly.
“Of course. But for now, there’s something else we need to do, little brother.”
That said, she turns and heads for the basement.
Danny and Tucker blink at the abrupt departure, while Sam just frowns thoughtfully.
The three exchange one more meaningful glance, before sharing a shrug and moving to follow her.
They arrive in the basement to Fenton Fighting Ring rising out of the floor.
“Uh, Jazz?” Danny tries.
“We’re going to fight!”
In stark contrast to both her words and her furious demeanor upstairs, her tone and expression are bright and eager.
“Um. That’s. Nice, but you know that’s a ghost thing, right?” he offers hesitantly.
“I mean, I still fight with Dora,” Sam adds, the traitor.
“Thank you Sam,” Jazz starts. “But even without that example; you are part ghost, brother mine. That means fighting loved ones is a you thing. I love you, so of course I’m going to fight you.”
“Mom and Dad theorized - and Frostbite confirmed - that the fighting is a social behavior. Many social behaviors are also needs. Members of social species that are not allowed to socialize become stressed and their health worsens. Humans who don’t communicate with other humans for too long experience negative side effects, too little physical contact can lead to depressed mood and so forth,” she monologues as she moves into the ring.
“As you’re still half human, neglecting the social needs of your ghost half could negatively impact your wellbeing. Also. I’m your sister and I love you. If I could never hug you I’d be bummed. This is like the ghost equivalent of that. So. Square up, little brother.”
Danny is kind of touched, actually.
Still.
“...Don’t you at least want an anti-creep stick?” he asks, gesturing at her general lack of ghost gear as he slips intangibly through the ropes around the ring.
“Nope!” She says cheerfully. “For this match we’ll be doing no powers and no weapons - just basic human strength and skill. We can try other kinds of fights later.”
Danny pales.
“No way! You’re a 4th degree black belt!”
“9th!” she corrects, still cheerfully - and she clearly means well, but for Danny that smile is beginning to look like an omen of ill fortune.
“That’s even worse!” he cries. “I’m only a blue belt! Barely!”
“I ~told~ you you should’ve stuck with mom’s training,” she sing-songs teasingly.
He cringes, but takes a stance.
“Now let's see how much you remember.”
That’s the only warning he gets before she’s in his face.
His strength, speed, stamina, endurance, and durability are all completely back to baseline in human form unless he actively uses his flight to compensate, but one thing he notes as the fight draws on is that his reaction speed is still the same.
Even so, it’s painfully obvious just how beyond him she is in terms of skill.
Without any powers to fall back on, Jazz runs circles around him like it’s nothing.
His reaction speed means that he sees everything she’s doing and that he has time to bring his arms up, but he keeps lagging trying to recall forms and getting shoved around for it, the defenses he manages too poor to be of any use.
Other times he lags because he’s suppressing instinctual power usage.
And multiple times he accidentally, instinctively abandons proper stance all together, habitually falling into the stance of his usual “feral racoon” style of fighting - as Jazz had one called it - which isn’t much of a stance at all in a fight with no powers. Especially given how it's not made for someone fighting on the ground. She takes brutal advantage of every opening.
He’s on the back foot from the first second of the fight, and it’s obvious that it only lasted for longer than one because Jazz allowed it to, testing him.
It’s frustrating that he’s doing so poorly - he knows he’s doing poorly - but despite that, he really is having fun.
It reminds him of the training spars at the Far Frozen - restrained skill set, fight with defined boundaries and win conditions-
Aaaaand evidently he let his mind wander too much.
And Jazz noticed.
And flipped him.
He’s thoroughly pinned in short order and he cannot for the life of him remember how to escape the hold short of cheating with intangibility.
“Uncle,” he calls.
Jazz pulls him to his feet and ruffles his hair.
He squawks indignantly, but she just chuckles.
"Good fight little brother," she calls as she slips between the ropes out of the ring.
"Our hero," Sam drawls as he follows.
Danny just pouts.
"That was just sad, man," Tucker ribs. "And I thought your early ghost fights were bad."
"I'd like to you do better against the 9th degree blackbelt," he grumbles.
"Don't fret, little brother. You'll improve with time," Jazz says as she rejoins them. "Though we'll have to do refreshers of all the previous levels first, given the amount of skill degradation I just saw. But with regular practice you'll back to your previous level and more in no time!"
"Uh. Refreshers?"
"Of course!"
"That seems a bit overkill just for sparring. Couldn't you just...wear a specter deflector or something? Then I can just not use karate."
Jazz, for the first time in a long time, levels him with a very serious look.
"You said that the reason Frostbite can't be the king instead is because he can't beat you in an all out fight. You told me the alternative."
She grabs him by the shoulders and stares into his eyes.
"Danny, Vlad already made a way to shut you away from your ghost powers. Frostbite may be unwilling to end you, and I don't think Vlad would. But you and I both know there are ghosts out there who would destroy you in a heartbeat for that power. And if Vlad has that kind of device, someone else could get one too. Ecto-weapons can give you a leg up if you get sealed away from your ghost powers, but you'll also need the skill to use them successfuly."
She lets go and steps back, tilting her head thoughtfully.
"Even with the ghost powers it's probably a good idea; the crown and ring might power you up but so did the exoskeleton. Clearly they aren’t the only power-ups out there so you can’t rely on strength alone. Skill could be the determining factor one day. And you already said you had fun," she smiles. "Come on little brother, give in to the karate side."
He grimaces.
"Didn't you say you were gonna make the royalty thing a non-issue for like three more years at least," he whines, slumping dramatically.
She raises a brow.
"A blackbelt isn't made in a day."
"Ugh, fine."
He's actually looking forward to it, but Jazz doesn't need to know that. He's duty-bound as a brother to be as annoyingly contrary about sibling bonding as possible, after all.
When Sam asks if they'll teach her and Tucker as well, Jazz is all too happy to include them - best not to have only one sparring partner, avoid forming bad habits and all that.
Both girls dutifully ignore Tucker's protests while they hash out a schedule. Danny pats his shoulder consolingly.
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DP x DC prompt where Bruce and Tim go to investigate Amity Park, with Jason in tow, all suited up. They’ve heard a strange claim about “ghosts” there, and trying to research the town revealed a concerning government presence and tampered records.
The moment they enter the town, the ectoplasm in the air starts rapidly filtering out the corrupted ectoplasm in Jason’s system and strengthening his underdeveloped core (kinda like To Join the Whispers). Jason doesn’t tell Bruce or Tim at first since he’s kind of freaking out about how the Pit is responding to the town. Then Jason’s arm goes through a table and they don’t really have any idea what is happening and are now all freaking out about it. Danny sees this happen and immediately recognizes the same sudden, uncontrollable power displays he had after the Accident.
Danny is extremely torn because he wants to help (a new halfa?? or something close enough??? and he’s a vigilante???? hell yeah), but he’s also Terrified of Batman going anywhere near his fucking house. So he introduces himself as Phantom and tries his best to steer them away from FentonWorks while also trying to help talk Red Hood through everything and dump a lot of ghost facts on them. Going to see Frostbite is extremely tempting, but Danny’s pretty sure he can handle this. Pretty sure. (He does Not want Batman near the portal, since it means being in his gd house, and he doubts he can get Red Hood there without Batman following.)
The bats didn’t even know who Phantom was until they arrived in Amity and they’re all a Little concerned that this random, powerful ghost child is this excited about Jason essentially going through ghost puberty in record time. It’s even more concerning that Phantom doesn’t seem at all surprised that a human can be part ghost in any way, which means either Phantom is somehow human himself (somehow) or that this is just not a new occurrence in this town.
They came here to figure out wtf was happening in Amity, and Phantom’s raising about 50 more questions by the second. Bruce sees Phantom take down a mutant ghost bear ripping through town and now he’s pretty sure this ghost child (who may or may not be partially alive??) is a load-bearing feature of the town. He’s not a fan of that. Bruce is even more concerned that, upon mentioning the government presence in town, Phantom says the GIW is causing more problems for the town and is actively hunting him.
Jason’s just... having a time. He’s never felt so zen and anxious at the same time. He wants to feel skeptical about Phantom and what’s going on, but being anywhere near the kid makes him feel like he’s hanging out with his best friend since childhood, wrapped in a warm blanket and safe as can be. (And the Pit is quiet and his mind feels Clear.)
The only reason the bats didn’t attack Phantom and drag Jason away in the first place is because Jason doesn’t Want to leave and jumped to defending the kid oddly quick. They tried to drag Jason out of town but he’s turning partly-intangible now whenever someone touches him and they physically can’t.
Danny’s pretty much adopted Red Hood as his new brother and even if he doesn’t trust Batman as far as he can throw him (far), he feels like he’s doing a pretty good job juggling mentoring Red Hood and managing to derail Batman’s investigation at the same time. Tucker helped lure the Drs. Fenton out of town with a fake ghost hunting convention, and the online information for anything in Amity is so butchered (between Tucker, Technus, and the GIW each having their turn at tampering) that the bats are having to rely mostly on word of mouth for their investigation.
He’s not doing quite as good of a job as he thinks he is, though. All it took was Phantom badmouthing the FentonWorks building once in passing for Bruce to look into it. They try to break into the place the moment they think Phantom’s gone-- only the house has some Surprisingly violent security systems and Phantom appears out of no where and drags them away.
They plan to go back the next day, cause there’s definitely Something there and they’re pretty sure it’s the answers they need. (Even just looking at the weird structure on the roof pretty much promises that.)
Only... Jason’s developing core (which isn’t fully formed and is soaking up the ectoplasm in Amity like a sponge) turns out to be an electric core. It starts going Buckwild with pent up energy, and Danny is having None of that. He goes from being very happy and excited to just-- terrified and flighty.
Random sparks of electricity around the kid with the Worst track record with that stuff? Yeah, no thanks.
Danny races home and just paces endlessly, confiding in Jazz that he doesn’t know what to do and wants to help and feels awful for bailing on them-- but he doesn’t feel capable handling someone with electricity sparking off of them like water off a duck. He thinks they need Frostbite’s help, which means letting Batman into FentonWorks, which means opening himself up to the possibility (probability) of Batman finding out more about the Fentons, Danny Fenton specifically, and Phantom.
The bats are panicking because, skeptical of Phantom or not, he was the only person providing them with answers and trying to help. Jason’s stressed to high hell without the calming feeling of Phantom nearby-- AND electricity now jolting from his hands uncontrollably on top of everything. The electricity is just coming and going at random, with him having no control over it.
They go to FentonWorks, their only lead, and this time a girl with red hair answers the door. She’s clearly stressed out about something-- and she has Phantom in her house, looking dejected and still very terrified as he keeps his distance. Why Phantom is in a house that is clearly stacked to the nines with ghost hunting equipment is... suspicious.
Jason’s powers act up almost immediately after entering the house-- causing some very scary damage to the nearest light fixture-- and Jazz is like “yeah no, we need to fix this Now” and marches them straight to the portal. The entire time she’s trying to explain her parents’ work and how they have friends through this portal that can help, and it’s Quite the sell to make on the fly.
They walk past a few family pictures on the wall on the way to the lab and it’s all Tim needs to see to be like “Soooo Phantom is definitely your brother-- hey um why is your brother a ghost??” He expresses this aloud and the way Danny tries to stammer and hide it is as good of confirmation as anything.
And then they see the state of the lab. All of the ghost-hunting weapons just lying around, and the giant portal to hell-- and how Phantom is still visibly keeping his distance from the sparks coming off of Jason. There’s just building rage in Bruce as he’s putting together the parental negligence and trauma. He wants to grill the two kids about their parents (why do they have all of these ghost hunting weapons when their kid is some sort of ghost?? WHY is their kid some sort of ghost???), but now he’s faced with a teenaged girl trying to convince him to go through a mysterious ghost portal to bring his kid to some strange ghost doctor.
Jason is leery as can be of the portal (it Looks a bit too like the Lazarus Pit, and it definitely feels like death), but this girl-- Jazz-- doesn’t seem afraid of going through the portal and is making it very clear she’ll just go into this “Ghost Zone” without them and grab this doctor if she has to. The thought of the girl diving through the portal by herself (and the sparks still flying off of him, making a mess of the lab equipment), is enough incentive to get Jason to go with.
Transporting Jason is... problematic, though. He would absolutely destroy the Specter Speeder if he rides in it. They eventually settle on Danny dragging Jason through the zone by a line (wearing a giant pair of rubber gloves on top of his gloves because he is not playing around).
By the time they get to the Far Frozen, the situation is sort of... solving itself? Being in the Ghost Zone has filtered out the last of the Pit's gunk from Jason and his malformed core is settling down now that it doesn't have good ectoplasm competing with sludge. He still doesn't really have control over the electricity, and feels a bit overwhelmed with energy, but it's no longer firing on all cinders.
Frostbite's pretty bothered by meeting Jason. He recognizes him as something similar to Danny (Bruce isn't going to let the "Great One" nicknamed Phantom has slide also; hoo boy that's another for the Giant List), but... Off. He has a core but it's-- small. Delicate. It was dormant until he entered Amity, and even now it doesn't really have the power or even shape a normal ghost core should.
Frostbite is able to help with the electricity, at least, by just explaining that now that his core has formed (in what capacity it can) Jason has to be careful about pent up energy to avoid it striking out. That the electricity feeds easily off of available energy and, especially if his emotions are high, will lash out if it overflows. He has Jason let out a lot of energy in a secluded space and it feels immensely cathartic.
Jason is still not allowed into the Specter Speeder on the way back to FentonWorks.
Returning to FentonWorks (with Jason's condition stabilized after his GZ spa cleanse) opens the door for a very careful interrogation of the Fenton siblings. Each answer or non-answer they give is more concerning than the last. The straw that breaks the camel's back is learning that the portal itself killed Danny and that his parents are not in any way aware he's (half) dead because of the ever-real risk his parents will hurt him if they find out.
They haven’t even mentioned Vlad. There’s still so much.
Bruce is already mentally signing the adoption papers. Tim and Jason have accepted they're getting two new siblings and are warning the family (and Jason's planning to be as careful as he can with these new powers so he doesn't freak Danny out because knowing Why it was freaking Danny out has him wanting to wear his own pair of rubber gloves and strangle their parents with them).
Danny is just a little shellshocked that these people are nicer than he thought and are willing to help him and not make his life worse.
Also notes: Jason wouldn't have a full roster of halfa abilities. No secondary form (though the white hair tuft prob glows more, and his eyes turn green more often), probably no true flight, and no ectoblasts. He mostly gets a grasp on the electricity and intangibility, and can use invisibility sparingly. The pranks he and Danny (and later Dani) get up to are the stuff of legend.
#this was rocking around in my head and I needed to write it down#dp x dc#dp x dc prompt#danny phantom#dp#dp prompt#batpham#prompt#dogposts#dp fanfic#this also wound up being longer than intended but oh well lol#wanted to put Sam and Tucker in here somewhere but it felt too busy rip#Also I'm extremely incapable of summarizing things and shortening ideas so this got very long#dogprompts
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me and @stiffyck were talking about aroace and t4t jizzie realising both of these things from a trans aroace scar, and because i’m normal (lie) I now have trans jizzie realising they’re trans and swapping names
you’re so welcome <3
(heads up, names are gonna be a bit confusing in this; this is lizzie’s pov)
joel does not know why they had to have this conversation outside in december of all times, because right now he is probably about to get frostbite. sure, the snow is pretty and all, but it is absolutely freezing, and the only thing stopping him from freezing to death is lizzie’s blazeborn ability to stay warm no matter what, and so she’s given him her coat to use as a kind of blanket.
since he started growing his hair out, lizzie has taken to playing with it more often, which is lucky in this scenario because her hands are so warm. in fact- joel thinks he’s forgotten to pay attention to their conversation with scar. oops.
“-all i’m saying is that, if you’re gonna compare restaurants, they’d better sell the same food.” lizzie is saying, far too heatedly for what the conversation is actually about. “there’s no point comparing, like- a fancy french restaurant that does snails and stuff with mcdonald’s.”
“ah, but scar’s diner will have it all, ms beans!” scar declares, and joel is suddenly doubting his grasp on this conversation.
“sorry- what are you guys even talking about?” joel says.
scar laughs the kind of laugh he does when he realises what he’s been talking about makes no sense. joel thinks it’s very funny that he knows scar has that distinctive laugh because of how many conversations he’s had with him that make zero sense. “sorry liz, I-“
liz.
all of a sudden, it’s like joel is underwater; he can technically hear scar correcting himself, and he knows vaguely that there is an outside world. but all [joel?] can think about is lizzie’s name used for him. and- y’know, now [lizzie?] has started thinking about it.. [he?] finds that [she?] absolutely can’t stop thinking about it.
[they?] remember the first time jimmy asked to be called jimmy, and the way his whole face lit up each time lizzie called him ‘jim’ casually, like it was nothing. but to jimmy- it was definitely something, and something big. [lizzie? joel?] had helped cut his hair short, and helped to dye it blonde, and in all honesty, jimmy has only looked happier on the day [names are so hard all of a sudden] was married.
“scar,” [lizzie?] says abruptly, and scar looks at [her?] with a small amount of concern. “can you..” [she?] can’t quite figure out how to finish that sentence. scar understands, regardless of those tricky things known as words.
“sure I can, lizzie.” scar says, and oh- okay. that’s- yeah.
it’s like there’s a physical ball of energy swelling up inside of [her.], lighting her up from the inside, and- yeah.
she.. she thinks she might be a girl.
“oh.” lizzie is grinning to herself and it’s starting to hurt a little but she really could care so much more right now.
“wait,” a voice says from above her, and lizzie looks up to see her spouse staring at her with a very familiar look in their eyes. “you- okay, hang on. you can- you can do that?”
“yeah, you definitely can.” scar gives a slightly crooked grin. “I don’t suppose you would be joel then, would you?”
“wh- it’s just- it’s that easy?” there’s a kind of worry attached to those words, one lizzie thinks she understands far better than she expected to. maybe she’s been a girl a lot longer than she realised. “I can just.. be a guy?”
“I did it.” scar grins in a way that makes lizzie think he’s holding back. “jimmy did it.”
“I- yeah, but-“ lizzie looks up and sees the corners of their eyes crinkled in the way that has always meant they’re suppressing a smile. she takes their hand and squeezes it. “it- it can’t be that easy, right?”
“you tell me, beans.” scar says, looking as if he already knows the answer to that.
joel relents, and lets himself smile. “yeah. it is.”
lizzie grins, sitting up and throwing her arms around her husband, and she’s laughing, and so is he, and they both might be crying a little too, and jimmy is gonna think they’re both such idiots, and she doesn’t care. she’s a woman, and joel is a man, and they just swapped names, and that honestly might have made this whole situation far funnier than it probably should be because- are they really both that unoriginal?
“I think,” lizzie sniffles, wiping her eyes on joel’s hoodie. “I think I got snot in your hair.”
“that’s fine.” joel giggles a little in that hiccupy way he does. “I might have just ruined your jumper.”
#jizzie#shadowbeans#ig??#ldshadowlady#lizzie ldshadowlady#smallishbeans#joel smallishbeans#gtws#gtw scar#he has too many tags#goodtimeswithscar#transgender characters#jimmy is also trans btw#trafficblr#trafficshipping#<- jic#I mean technically later in this au they both realise they’re aroace but#they don’t know that yet so#wren writes
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Can’t Bring Myself to Hate You - Part 11
Pairing: Azriel x Third-Oldest-Archeron-Sister!Reader
A/N: I restarted this about four times—re-wrote the last few sentences for about half an hour. Also I was so excited to write Eris again but he wouldn’t fit in this chapter 😔
Warnings: sexual assault, Bas and his bloody knuckles, Azriel
Word Count: 5,830
-Part 10- -Part 12-
——————————————————————————————————————————————
Azriel is going to die.
He’s going to die, and it will be at your hand.
Silence echoes through your mind, the world filled with dark blues and dismal greys—the colours of rainclouds and heavy fog over a midnight river. While the air is warm, ice prickles the layer beneath your skin, seemingly caught in your clothes, captured in your flesh. The perpetual cold of the mortal lands perhaps never fully having left the marrow of your bones.
At the table you sit still, trying to silence your mind to focus on the task at hand. You don’t want to be thinking about that right now. Not today.
Brow pulls together, lips twisting down as the bone of your thumb presses to the line between your eyes, pushing away the pressure.
Ease out a breath, shoulders slumping, muscles draining away as the door is closed on the world. Locked cozily within the dark quiet of the open kitchen.
The last time you’d sat here feels like months ago, presents stacked upon the table with a pretty cake to tuck into. Now there’s nothing to offer but a meagre cupcake, a lone candle put sadly into the spongy head you hadn’t even paid for—it had been a sample, someone giving out free little things so none of the food would go to waste.
It isn’t even decorated, aside from the thin waxy stick the House had offered up.
Lower lip curls, scowling with hot eyes at the small cake.
You stare for a long while, vision blurring every so often before it’s cleared away by a disciplinary blink. Loathing carved between your ribs, twisting and slicing, but never ending. A muscle flickers in your jaw, before finally shifting into motion, sitting straighter.
This night isn’t about you, and you’ll be damned if you make it so.
Breathing deeply, the wooden figurine is placed on the table, palm damp and cool without it’s warmth in your hand. The maiden looks on at the small cupcake, disappointed, pretty flowers drooping in elegant fingers. The skirts of are caught frozen in motion, the hem lifting from her ankles, the graceful sweep of hair being pulled gently toward the candle, as if the breeze is luring her in.
Eyes stare at the sight, and you have to sit back in your chair. Observing the scene, how small and meagre it is for something that deserves much more.
When the world blurs this time, you don’t blink it away, letting it fill and swell. Break over the edge of picked-thin lashes.
Slowly, you lean forward, picking up the light box of matches, taking one out, and striking it against the abrasive card. Fire flares before dimming, wisps of smoke curling from the glowing light, putting a pleasant scent into the room as you lower it to the candle, spreading the scant glow. With a single flick of your hand, the flame is put out, sending up a poor last signal with its diminishment, glowing weakly, before finally extinguishing.
Inky blues and grey-blacks dim the already sparse light, encroaching on the small patch of light like wolves circling a small, run-down hut. Waiting for the first sign of dilapidation before pouncing, sharp canines sinking into the soft, fleshy centre.
Your head hangs, forearms braced on to table either side the little show. Fingers curl, pressing into the now-soft skin, callouses from the days of wood-chopping and frostbite softened by a single dip into freezing cold water. Murky and depthless.
Bringing forth irrevocable change.
————
Azriel’s wings stretch out over his chair, the muscles rippling, shoulders working free of the tension before standing from his desk.
For what ever reason, the House has decided he should get his own food for tonight, evening long since passed with the days becoming shorter and shorter. Light waning, the dark sidling closer the deeper into autumn time flows. Like clockwork, shadows skitter off down the hallway, floating along floorboards and dipping beneath rugs, settling at the darkened threshold of her door. No light warms the gap, and habitually they listen out for the soft sighs of breathing, forgetting the enchantment that’s been placed on the room.
They hurry back, curling around his ear, delivering the information seamlessly as he makes his way silently down the dim halls. He can see perfectly fine in the night—there’d be no point to lighting a candle.
Strain remains tight in his shoulders, having finished reading through Cass’ letter as well as the dozens of other reports monitoring various changes and shifts in courts. Other things to deal with, to allocate time and resources to, seamlessly shifting his network of spies to target and attend to the more prominent catches in his web.
He doubts he’ll be able to catch even a wink tonight, a tight pulse in his chest warning him of sleep.
————
The breath exhales softly, staring at the lone flame, flickering dimly in the overbearing darkness, and you can’t help but think of your youngest sister. The wane light in the wintry forrest, battered by icy winds and freezing frosts.
Calming the beat of your heart, you press your palms together, leaning forward so the knuckle of your thumbs slot above the bridge of your nose. Head bowing toward the candle, eyes sliding shut, keeping the pressure at bay.
“Happy birthday, dad,” you whisper.
Already the edges of your mouth tremble, but you try to stay firm, sucking in a shaky breath. Blurred memories of the war begin seeping back in, the damp smell of blood and sickness, mixed with sweat and leather. Slowly lower your hands, palms pressing flat against the table as you look at the flickering light. The miniature wood carving bought in memory of his carpentry.
“I miss you,” you murmur, voice wobbling in the silence. “It’s been difficult since you’ve gone. Difficult for a while now.” Throat rolls, shifting in your seat, spine straightening. “Feyre’s doing well though. As much as I can tell, anyway. She’s had a baby too, did you know? I don’t know if you’re still able to watch us anymore, so sorry if you’re all caught up—I just thought might as well be on the safe side, and I don’t know what else to talk about besides them.”
Tongue darts out to wet your lips, breathing softly, calming the emotion in your chest. “He’s called Nyx, and he looks just like them.” The flame blurs, light dripping out in dots through the room, and you quickly wipe your eyes. “She’s been busy with him—I think she’s been taking him out on walks through Velaris every now and again when he wakes up early, though sometimes the others take on some tasks. I know Mor likes having him around, and even Amren has a soft spot for him already.” The corners of your mouth tug down, head lowering as you stare into the flame. “I think she’s doing well, after all this time. She can stand on her feet.”
Night-kissed memories float up through the fog, of crunching snow and steaming blood, dribbling out of a doe carcass.
“Elain’s good too,” you manage, attention flicking to the wooden maiden. “I think her and Lucien have begun getting along better, or at least not as awkward as they once were. I went with her to visit him a while back—to the old human lands, and—” You fumble, tripping over your words. “Do you know it all worked out?” You ask quietly. “I must’ve told you last year, but just in case I didn’t: we won. The war, I mean.” Vision blurs again, blinking away the dampness.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, dad,” you whisper, lip trembling. “I know it’s morbid, and maybe if I had been there, I would have wished I wasn’t, but Nesta was, and Feyre was there too, and Elain got to… They got to see you again.” The first tear splashes onto the wooden grain, and you hastily wipe it away, fearing it might stain somehow. “I wish I’d gotten to see you again before you went away,” you mumble, swallowing thickly. “I miss you a lot. And they’re all doing well, and getting better, and…”
Take in a deep breath, lungs stuttering, hauling in quivering pulls of air. Dip your head slightly.
“They’re doing well,” you whisper, nodding to yourself. Repeating it in your mind.
“I think you’d be happy with them.”
————
Shadows swirl at his wings, shifting as they dip ahead into the kitchen, skittering back with their message. She’s in there, sat at the table.
Azriel pauses in the hallway, debating the merits of bumping into her at such a late hour. He remembers how poorly his last late-night interaction went, and is frankly disinclined to revisit the memory on any level. The softness of Elain’s skin still registered in some chamber of his mind, laying dusty and untouched for some time, unable to bring himself to quite take it back out just yet.
His stomach grumbles quietly, and he sets a hand on his lower abdomen, rubbing absently as he thinks. Wonders why she’s decided to come out of her room tonight instead of keeping to her space—why tonight of all nights the House is throwing him under the wagon. But he’s a full-grown male, he can handle one short interaction, even if it’s with her. It’ll be a good chance to check on how she’s doing physically in person, too, having been putting off that task for a while, satisfied with the imaginary rendering his shadows bring him every now and then.
Azriel continues down the hall, noting the dim flicker of light from the doorway, warming the blue darkness to a sparse orange, a clear outline of colour in the deep shadow and he wonders what she’s doing. A few quiet steps bring him to the threshold, steadying himself for her longing eyes and the dipped shoulders.
He rounds the frame but halts on the threshold, shadows instinctively slinking across his skin, pressing silently back into the darkness of her peripherals.
She’s crumpled over, sobbing silently, shoulders trembling as deep breaths heave and shudder from her lungs. Her features protectively hidden by the sleeves of her cardigan, pressed tight to her features as quiet, wet cries gasp from her lips, trembling in the dim light of her single candle.
He watches from the edge of the room, observing silently, caught on the force of despair. How it’s shaking her frame, wracking it like a paper lantern in a storm, tossed and battered until it’s soaked and dissolving beneath the downpour. Flame reflects in the golden pool beneath her on the table, rippling with hot droplets as they drip heavily, splashing between the grains, growing steadily larger.
The tips of his fingers tingle, but he resists stepping forward—with everything that’s between the two of them he doubts it would help.
The familiar scent of gardenias floats over to him, stronger than usual, and hazel eyes trace the bare skin of her hands.
They’re horrifically dry, despite the intensity of the scent that always accompanies her nowadays, skin peeling around her nails, cracked and flakey like freshly baked pastry, rough patches of rawness peeking through, sore and worn from the interior of her gloves.
To a less observant pair of eyes, it may have appeared as a case of frostbite, or treatable dryness, but he recognises that formation—the slight warp of burning flesh.
Her palms press to gleaming cheeks, as if the wetness will absorb into her hands, curing the desiccated expanse, soaking up until they’re perfect again, without a flaw or crack to be found. The bones in his hands ache dully, pains blooming beneath his own warped flesh, swollen and melted in parts, scarred and misshapen. Deformed.
She starts mumbling under her breaths, sobs becoming heavier, lungs gasping as air is harshly sucked in, stumbling and stuttering in her shuddering chest. She’s apologising. Over and over, murmured sorries and desperate pleas. Repeating over and over how sorry she is as the water ripples beneath her, lips tugged down, brows knotted in sheer self-loathing. So concentrated it knocks him in his chest.
He should turn away—he can wait a few hours easily, allow her to vacate and recover at her own pace—but he’s kept at the edge, watching silently, wreathed in shadow saved for the flame-lit hazel of his eyes. Observing such a pure display of sorrow and wretchedness, a sense of foreign familiarity ghosting within his chest. Like finding a new path to an exact location—one he hadn’t known existed until then, completing a fraction of the unknown map.
Azriel takes in her curled up form, hunched over the candle, back curved as she sobs into damp wool, familiarising the sight. His expression tightens ever so slightly, brows pulling in, edges of his mouth twisting down, working into the beginnings of a frown.
With one last scan, he turns silently, retuning her the privacy she’s unaware has been disturbed.
————
You ease out a heavy sigh, but your shoulders remain tense.
Half a cupcake remains on the table, the house setting a glass dome over its top.
You peer down at the symbol numbly, eyes sore and swollen. Aching from intense use. That’s all the emotion you can manage for the night—a drought forming in the desiccated innards of your soul. Tears have been bled dry to a state of numbness, skin tingling absently. Breathing mindlessly. Wandering listlessly.
————
You land three light taps to the door, the warm lamp far above you illuminating the small inlet of the entrance, a wooden frame either side to hold the vines as they’ve reached and crawled over the years, the tiny pale flowers putting out a lovely fragrance—like lilies, or sweet peas. Long moments pass, then the door is quietly opening, one dark hand resting casually at the height of it, the other against its frame.
“Hey,” he greets, the edges of his mouth relaxing a little.
“Hi,” you reply, realising how scratchy your voice is, raw from that long hour. Hastily clear your throat, shifting in the entrance. “Would you— I mean, are you busy tonight?” You ask, wringing your fingers slightly, stopping when gold flicks down to mark the action.
Bas releases the door, opening it a little wider, standing straighter and clearing his throat. “Nope,” he says, “something on your mind?” Instantly the lone candle flickers in your head, the sponginess of the small cupcake, and you blink away the prickling pressure. “Yes,” you answer quietly. “I just— I don’t want to talk about it,” you settle on, returning your gaze to his. Anxiety beginning to melt away—you can be something other than fine around him. Lower lip wobbles with the thought, but you hasten to push the welling emotion away. Your eyes would hate you if you started crying again.
A deep breath eases into your lungs, then blown out heavily.
“I had a rough evening,” you say vaguely, “and I’m feeling pretty awful at the moment, so I was wondering if you’d like to go out for a bit.”
He watches silently from the warm inside of his home, the smell of rosemary and thyme cozily wrapping around you, almost enough to make you wish for a night in, but you’d rather not feel for a little bit. “You do that a lot, y’know?” He says at last, stepping back to allow you inside. You follow quietly, looking up at him with a furrowed brow, keeping to the wall. “Do what?” You ask, wondering if he’d like you to take your shoes off since it looks like you might be coming further in.
“Phrase questions weirdly,” he laughs faintly, the deep sound breathing a small spark back into your blood. “Like that one, ‘I was wondering if you’d like to out for a bit.’ I was wondering if you’d like to go out for a bit?” He repeats, raising the inflection at the end. “You know you can ask me stuff, yeah?”
You feel the faint tug of a smile on your lips, amusement crossing your features. “I know,” you reply, “maybe I just didn’t feel like saying it as a question.” Bas rolls his golden eyes, mouth copying yours, forming a slight smile, before shaking his head and turning. “Let me grab something. Anywhere you want to go?” He calls from over a broad shoulder, reaching for a warmer piece to put over his indoor clothes.
Shake your head, keeping to the edge of the room, wary of the clean floor. “I just want to be outside tonight,” you say quietly. “I don’t…the inside just…” You purse your lips in a grimace, and he nods. “I get you.”
Another well of emotion builds in your chest, but again you push it away.
Tongue licks out over your lips, shifting on your feet, making an effort to brighten your demeanour. “What’s going on with you at the moment? There was that thing you wanted to talk about last time…?” When you’d had a small crying session in his arms. Whenever the memory inserts itself into your head, you’re torn between embarrassment and jealousy. Embarrassment at breaking down over such a small thing after having kept it together for so long, jealousy over how easily that comes to other people. That small, sad part of yourself wanting more, but as usual, she’s gently pushed aside.
Bas sucks in a slow breath, guiding you to the door. “Yeah, about that…” The two of you step outside into the crisp night air, and you wrap your scarf closer, huddling beneath the warmth. Even after all this time, the warmth in the chillier months is something you can’t help but find your stress in.
“So…” you encourage when he goes quiet, linking his arm with yours. “What did you want to say?” But he shakes his head. “To be honest, I don’t want to talk about it right now,” he answers with forced lightness. Brow dips—is it something to do with his dad?
“You okay?” You ask softly, stepping a little closer as you make the walk down his small front garden, the gate creaking open before he shuts it behind you. “Fine,” he replies, then relents. “A bit tense.”
You try to come to a stop, but he gives a gentle tug on your arm, telling you to continue on. He doesn’t want to talk about it.
With a heavy swallow, you direct your attention forward, hand pressing into the warm muscle of his arm, firmly linked together. “You’ll tell me when it’s been enough, right?” You ask quietly, forcing yourself not to peer at him through your peripherals. He has an uncanny sense for when people are watching him.
He’s quiet, continuing on with the walk, but you don’t make the mistake of trying to rush him. Sometimes he just takes a bit.
“Sure,” he says at last, and this time you do look at him, a slight glint of amusement in your eyes to soften the stern set of your mouth. “Sebastian,” you warn, and he cringes at your side. “Fine, yeah, I’ll say something,” he relents, waving his free hand, not quite meeting your eye. You manage a quiet laugh, before you both settle back into silence, quietly paying attention to the swish of the breeze, skirting around the subjects at hand.
The question’s on the tip of your tongue, eyes watching him from the side, but then he gives and almost undetectable squeeze to your arm. So light you’d think you might have imagined it. Had the two of you been human, you would have dismissed it. But fae bodies have an entire new level of awareness to them, impossibly sensitive on depthless levels. Utterly overwhelming at first. Still getting a handle on some of the more intense senses.
As it is, you take it as his answer. The promise he won’t voice.
So you continue on into the night, neither of you quite fully present in the moment to be doing something like this. But bad decisions happen, and mistakes are made. Without them, life would be boring, and dull. You’d never progress.
————
Skin buzzes pleasantly, a wide smile on your lips as you lean into Bas’ side, greedily taking in his warmth, mourning already forgotten and pushed to the side.
You stumble along, his arm wrapped securely around your waist as laughter rings between you, fuel for the rest of the night, replenishing the emptied wells of emotion like he’s pouring molten gold straight into your blood.
He’d been tense at first—nothing outright, or obvious in any sense of the word, but those small tells were there. Patterns one can only pick up on after spending pure, concentrated months with someone. And his behaviour had been erratic. The tension in his jaw when a female had bumped into him, spinning clumsily on her feet to apologise. The pause before he’d forgiven her, and continued on with his night. Then he’d refused to even take a sip of your drink, politely but firmly refusing your attempts to get him to loosen up.
You’d tried plying him with all sorts of methods, from joking and humour, to offering up some of your own little pieces, to asking directly what was going on inside his head that night. He’d diverted the first two, and snapped at you to mind your own business at the last one, which—to be fair—he was entitled to do. You know you wouldn’t appreciate one of your sisters trying to worm their way back into your life if you wanted your peace.
Eventually, you’d gotten up, telling him you’d pop outside for some fresh air—the night sky is always beautiful here—but he hadn’t wanted to come with you, simply sipping quietly on the non-alcoholic drink before him. Was it something to do with whatever he’d wanted to speak with you about?
While you’re out on the balcony, you explore the possibilities of what he might want to say. Though, you decide to stop once you notice the thoughts steadily becoming worse and worse, pausing the process before you cause yourself a public meltdown—you can theorise once you get back to the House.
But with thought of the House comes thoughts of that dangerous piece of parchment on your desk. The open challenge left for you, daring you to bring out some imagined claws. Outrageous and bold and brazen. You can’t even begin to imagine what those sorts of characteristics would imply to your personality. Do you even possess the capacity to become anything other than the flimsy spec you are? To make something out of the damage, to make it worth an amount, so it’s anything but weight, and trauma, and baggage.
Running gloved fingers over your face, you raise from the balcony, turning and heading back in. You don’t know why you didn’t try and turn back sooner when he obviously wasn’t in the right state to be coming out, certainly not surrounded by alcohol.
(I wanted to, so I did.)
(I disregarded him because I am more important.)
When you re-enter the fairly crowded room, you edge your way along the walls until you can spot him, a glass of water in his hand containing a slice of lemon and what looks like a leaf of mint. He’s speaking with a female, his expression softer than usual, and you wonder if you should perhaps complete another lap of the room if he’s managing to relax. But then another male sidles up, his arm wrapping around her waist, and she’s promptly whisked away onto the floor. Golden eyes follow the two, watching as they disappear into the night.
“Hey,” you greet, pretending to be a little more fatigued than you truthfully are. Bas inclines his head in reply, taking a deep drink of the liquid, draining the glass before returning it to the wooden surface of the bar. “Ready?” He asks, standing promptly. A smile softens your features as you nod—wondering how long he’s been wanting to leave but sticking it out. He nods again, the warm piece he’d grabbed before setting out into the night getting put over his free arm as his hand grazes the space between your shoulder blades.
You both cross over the threshold of the establishment, and the cold air smacks you right in the face, draining the warmth in an instant. Bas chuckles lowly, tossing you the outer layer, immune to the cold.
You peer at him hesitantly, but he just rolls his eyes. “You’re cold, and I’m offering you a solution,” he says pointedly. “So take it, yeah?” You give in, sliding your arms into the too-large sleeves, wrapping it around your bodice, relieved to keep out the raw bite of oncoming winter. “Thanks,” you murmur, allowing hesitant comfort to settle over your skin as his arm pulls you out in into the street.
The two of you walk mostly in silence, content to mull over your own issues in peace, the frenetic pulse of others’ lives colliding off one another.
A scream pierces out of nowhere, so shrill that you startle, Bas flinching at your side, heart pounding in your chest. Laughter echoes in response.
Both of you peer toward the sound, but all you find is a female getting to her wobbly feet, surrounded by mirth filled faces offering her various hands up, pulling her back to standing, arms linking close with one another.
You exhale heavily, but beside you Bas is tense, muscle coiled tight beneath the warm heat of his skin. Lightly, you pull on his arm, encouraging him to start moving again because it’s cold outside, and he’s given you his only good piece of protection against the piercing autumn chill. He moves along stiffly, tension tightening across his muscles, hands tucked tight in the deep pockets of his trousers.
Silently, you peer at him from the corner of your eye, noting the rigid posture, the downward tip of his brows, the tension in his jaw, as if biting down.
“Hey,” you say softly, laying your hand on his shoulder, bringing him out from whatever space he’d dropped into. Golden eyes flick to you, more distant than usual, and you realise just how lucky it was that male scooped up the female when he did—he’s clearly needing to be alone right now, in the peace and solitude of his own home.
You put a smile across your features, “scary, huh?”
A beat passes and he’s silent, just watching you.
Then muscle slopes, tension rushing from his body all at once, a heavy sigh deflating from his chest, breath billowing out into the biting cold air. He nods, a smile beginning to form on his lips.
A hand drops to your ass, squeezing with interest before smacking the plump flesh hard.
Your entire body goes rigid, legs shaking as you spin around, clutching tight to Bas’ arm to keep upright, shock disturbing your stomach as your eyes lock with pale green.
“Nice ass,” the male compliments lowly, a slight grin on his lips as he prowls forward, arms wrapping around your waist, large hands settling lightly over your rear, cupping with interest. Instantly you raise your arms to your body, itches breaking out across your skin, pulse kicking up to the beat of a war drum as disgust slithers beneath your flesh. “What—? Get off—”
“Get the hell off her.”
Bas turns on a dime, the tension breaking across his features as his lip pulls back from gleaming white teeth, golden eyes glittering with rage as he shoves one hand into the male’s chest, sending him stumbling back a few paces, storm clouds thundering in his expression.
Hands tremble at your front, managing a few hastened steps away, putting shaky stumbles between you and the male, breath shuddering in and out of your lungs as you stare with wide eyes. Bas takes a step forward, bringing his hands up out of his pockets to remove the rings adorning his deft fingers, golden bands sliding up over his knuckles. “looking for trouble?” He growls, eyes trained on the opposing male with deepening anger.
The male raises his open palms, a faint smile on his sober features, pale green eyes gleaming beneath the hot faelights. “Calm down man. I didn’t know she was yours,” he drawls smoothly, “no harm done.”
“No harm done?” Bas hisses, baring his teeth, an icy gleam in his normally perfectly golden gaze. “Keep your fucking hands to yourself,” he growls lowly, keeping you behind him.
The smile fades from the male’s face, shifting into a slight scowl. “Calm the fuck down,” he snaps irritably, “it was a fucking compliment.” Bas snarls, discipline slipping as he stalks forward, fist snatching up the collar of the male’s shirt, a faint tearing sound ripping through the crisp night air. Pale green eyes widen, before deepening with anger. “What the fuck is your problem? It was a fucking—”
“You fucking try and put your hands on her again,” he mutters softly, the threat reverberating deep in his chest, staring down the opposition. “Fucking try, and see what happens.”
The male’s brows dip, lip curling back as he bares his teeth, shoving the flats of his palms into Bas’ chest, roughly pushing him off. “You tore my shirt,” he mutters, staring down at the ripped fabric. Pale green clashes with raging gold, darkening to viridian. The male looks down his nose, folding his arms over his chest. “You better fucking pay for that, prick.”
“For what? The improvement?” Bas barks, hands tightening into fists at his sides, aching for a brawl, that familiar itch practically scrawled across his features. Obvious to no one but you. Silvery moonlight catches his knuckles, something sharp and glassy catching your eye.
The male’s features twist with anger, then they’re slamming into one another, light gleaming; darkness swirling.
They’re using magic.
Your pulse kicks up, hands trembling as you stare helplessly, unable to formulate any thoughts. Before you power crackles in the air, tension buzzing like static before lightening strikes, and you need to intervene. But it’s as though you’ve been vanished from the world, physical form obliterated so you’re simply a wisp of conscious being tossed brutally in stormy seas. Just your skin tingling disgustingly in the shape of large palm prints. Like he’s scorched your body, so everyone can see the patch where—
The male pins Bas to the floor, his large body thudding heavily against the stone of the cobbles, one hand splaying across his shoulder, fist pulled back tight as a bowstring, shooting down, landing blow after blow to the centre of his face, blood spraying across a vicious smile. Gold practically glows in the hot light, enjoying it, letting the rage and fury build until it’s ready to combust, to be released on the male atop him. He’s savouring it, and you can do nothing but watch as he slides back into that state of self-destruction. Right before your eyes.
A wet crunch sounds, cartilage shattering, blood coating sharp, gleaming teeth that are bared in a feral grin.
“The fuck are you smiling at?” The male laughs, pulling Bas up by the collar, arm wound back, preparing to strike hard now the bone has caved. “You fucking brain dead?” He shouts, ears wincing from the volume, green eyes lit with bloody glee, liquid dripping from his knuckles.
Nausea roils in your stomach, recognising the path Bas has settled on. The numb violence in his gaze having your throat closing up. Before you can help it, your feet are moving on their own, pushing through the shadows as you run over to the two, arms wrapping tight around the male’s elbow, locking it in place as you lean to counter-weight his strength. “Bas…” you manage, voice cracking, muscles turning weak with adrenaline, legs like custard as they tremble.
Pale green eyes snap to yours, his head whipping round, only to grow wide, features illuminated with a blinding glow. Skin burns, from your fingertips to your stomach to your heels—you’re burning. The male flinches beneath your hold, and you hardly have enough time to catch yourself before he’s jerked his arm out of your grip, the point of his elbow hitting the dip of your collar bones, just shy of your throat. Heart stumbles in your chest before a force shoves at your spine, pushing you back into the male as the knuckles of his hand smack across your cheek, sending you tumbling to the ground. Copper bursts on your tongue as you flip over, scrambling to get up but trembling so violently you might be sick.
The male raises his curled fist again, preparing to strike, but Bas has gotten his dose of violence, bloodlust glittering in blazing gold eyes as lips pull apart into a wet, bloody smile. You catch the gleam of ice coating his knuckles, cold moonlight glinting across frozen, jagged edges before he flips the male over, fist connecting with his jaw, a bloody tooth being spat out onto the cobbles. Then the furore begins, fist pulling back over and over as he keeps the male choked to the ground, sawtoothed ice smashing against skin and bone with every wet crunch.
You try to call out, but your lips are too numb to move, skin stinging with piercing pain. Dark red splatters on the cobbles, flecked through with tiny shards of ice as the crunching continues, getting wetter and softer with every hit. Like the heavy thump of raw meat upon a carving table.
Trembling, you move to get to your feet, fingertips itching with adrenaline, shaking with indecision. Bas is going to regret this, you know it. He’ll come out of that haze drowning in self-loathing for giving into the impulse after so long of numbing it. You can’t let him continue—stop him before he does serious damage to himself.
He’s been there for you, and you need to be there for him.
Breath eases into your lungs, skin itching deeper, the burning again raising as your fingertips tingle, trying to reach out for your power. The sting of the green light begins to manifest, aching in your stomach, head pounding, rising to the surface—
You’re hauled upright, turned around and directed away from the beat down, magic extinguished the second his scent wraps around you in a night-kissed breeze.
Azriel doesn’t say a thing, simply curves his wing round at your back, guiding you off into the night.
You don’t have the capacity for dread or fear at what he’ll say once you’re far enough away.
All you can think about is the quiet warmth of him at your side, steady and assured.
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i need a part 3 of sean diaz hc IM STARVEDDD‼️
ask and (11 months later) you shall receive!
- deep conversations always happen whilst laying on the floor. he’ll lay on his back with an arm propped under his head and listen intently to everything you have to say
- hangs on to your every word if youre talking about something important like .. his eyes will go kinda big because he’s so focused on you he kinda forgets to blink LOL
- grabs onto your hands when hes nervous, like just clutches onto them and squeezes. likes when you rub the back of his hand with ur thumb for extra reassurance
- sean sees the world so artistically and beautifully so a feature of yours you’ve never noticed before is accentuated in his art. a beauty spot you didnt notice, a dimple you never knew about. he loves every little detail about you
- faye webster enjoyer! indie pop lover in general tbh. loves listening to music with you (earbud user because he hates how headphones feel on his head) and will always think of you when he listens to certain songs
- i think if you told him you like his hair long he’d let it GROWWW. like so long he can tie it into a bun, but it would annoy him after a while and he’d cut it to like ep1 length. will let you and daniel put his hair in pigtails with bows (he’ll joke about being coquette)
- loves going on drives with you. sometimes daniel tags along but he prefers when its just the two of you. definitely likes listening to frank ocean whilst the sun sets (it reminds him of gta😭)
- has a bad habit of putting on this cynical teen front (like his journal entry about trump winning LOL) and you give him an outlet to be sincere and sensitive which leads to him opening up about his mom
- sean feels a weird sense of guilt when he criticises karen in front of daniel because he knows he’s too young to really remember and feel upset about it. but he feels even worse doing it in front of his dad because he feels like his emotions take up too much space. like it overshadows the betrayal his dad must feel.
- so instead he adopts a mostly indifferent, partially angry attitude towards his mom leaving to disguise the genuine sadness and resentment. the inability to understand how she could just up and leave. when you give sean the space to actually .. feel everything, he breaks down. it deepens the bond he has with you, he feels theres no judgement to be cruel, selfish, or upset around you.
- seans newfound sensitivity from dating you also lets him be unashamedly happy about the holiday season. he is done pretending to be over christmas, bring out the ugly jumpers and candy canes!!
- esteban is in SHOCK. sean is up early during his winter break to *checks notes* decorate?? convinced it must be crack.
- not sure what the american equivalent of winter wonderland is, but he saves up money from his part time job to take you, his dad and daniel to a winter festival! he kinda breaks the bank but has no regrets!! gets you hot chocolates and treats, also spends an embarrassing amount on game tickets trying to win you a prize😭 you tell him its ok but he will keep trying until he gets you SOMETHING!
- at some point he’ll sneak off with you to give you the sweetest kiss ever. will hold your chin in his hand and tilt your head up to kiss you. he’s not huge on pda (especially with his dad in the vicinity) BUT he’s in such a good mood he cant pass up the chance. starts smiling through the kiss because he’s so happy
- that definitely inspires art of you looking flushed with slightly swollen lips but a look of warmth in your eyes. probably gives it to you as a christmas gift! tells you its one of the many many moments he felt himself falling even more in love with you
- he hates the cold but loves the excuse to cling to you constantly. “sean.. i need to pee.” “pretty sure if i let go of you i’ll instantly get frostbite soo..”
- nervous and geeky when you guys first start dating, but gets SUPERRR suave as time goes on it kinda makes you weak in the knees. will cup your cheek mid conversation and stroke your cheek with his thumb. will backhug you and kiss your neck. will kiss the back of your hand if hes feeling VERY romantic… whore activity tbh!
- hickey enthusiast omg its BAD hes an addict. but god forbid you give him one because he will freak about lyla seeing and giving him grief over it. has a thing for marking you and knowing you like how it feels
- loves when you wrap your arms around his neck!! gives him this super strong sense of security, he’ll always wraps his arms around your waist.
- HATES when people talk at the movies. you, sean and daniel all went to see fnaf and daniel would not stop turning to both of you to explain the lore incase you were confused😭 not even whispering mind you! infuriates sean but its him telling you and daniel to stop talking that gets the reaction of an angry parent asking him to “be quiet or leave!” his eye twitches when you and daniel start laughing at him LOLL
- ushanka hat bandit. will wear them even during SUMMER! always paired with a tank top and jeans or a striped hoodie. i think sean has slutty hips so u love the tank top x low rise jeans combo he wears in summer LMAOO :P
- likes to cuddle with your back facing him so he can kiss your shoulder.
- likes to post discreet pictures of you on his main ig but his spam account is like 90% you LMAO. posts photodumps filled with dumb text messages between you both and candid pictures of you
- gets overprotective of you in a similar way to how he is with daniel, sometimes you have to remind him you’re there to protect him too
- will lay his head on your shoulder when hes in need of comfort. also a subtle way of asking you to play with his hair (he will melt)
- likes if you put your hands in his jacket pocket when it’s cold so he can hold it in there!!
- goes through phases where he ALWAYS wants to be on the phone with you. like you could be on the way over and he’ll stay on call until you’re in his house
- has a bad habit of getting into petty arguments with you that start off playful, like debating over what the best chocolate bar is but he’ll end up taking it too far and getting legit mad LMAO. you both end up cackling about managing to argue over chocolate
- plans his future with you in it. knows he always wants to be in close proximity to you, daniel and his dad no matter what! he can’t imagine life without you and tbh he doesnt want to.
not sure what hits me at like midnight that makes me wanna write hcs but as always im too sleepy to proofread so ignore any mistakes! also sorry if you dont celebrate christmas, i was projecting a little LOL
hope u all enjoy!💗
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Phantom of Gotham 19
Chapter 18
Danny had unsurprisingly not gotten a good night's sleep that night. He was currently staying in an abandoned Firehouse. He was pretty sure he was getting the hang of finding semi-hospitable hideouts. Just to be safe, he had taken to hiding his stuff in the walls when he left. It was tedious, but there was no way he was risking a Red Hood (Jason?) situation. He knew that opening a portal to the Ghost Zone would be a bad idea, and that it could lead the GIW straight to him. That big of a power surge in one spot would no doubt attract them. At the very least, Vlad might also be aware of him in Gotham now. But for some reason he didn’t want to leave.
Sure, He’d be safer if he stayed on the run but he had friends at school, was actually doing well in classes, and he had befriended the local vigilantes. Not that he was avoiding them. He had patrolled a bit with them again- invisible as always- but he’d started to feel eyes on him so he gave them Phantom’s contact info and proceeded to lay low the past few days.
Danny had started feeling a bit paranoid after the whole ghost portal thing, but Batman and Frostbite were already making progress. Batman had even said that the GIW wouldn’t be able to do much in Gotham since he’d alerted the GCPD to reject any attempts at partnership and to detain the Fentons if they were spotted. Danny was still worried about it. Especially with Vlad and his parents. He’d of course told Batman about Plasmius, but in order to keep his own secret he hadn’t told them Vlad was a Halfa too. He was starting to think that maybe he should, just in case he showed his fruit-loopy self in Gotham.
Obviously, Phantom could take Vlad in a fight no problem. It was him against the bats that he wasn’t so sure about. Lack of ghost weapons aside, Vlad also had a propensity for overshadowing people. Often multiple people because of his clones. The two things Danny wouldn’t or couldn’t do.
He sighed. Maybe he was overthinking it. He should just do his best in school and hang out with Tim and Steph like a normal kid for once. Phantom was benched for now, and Danny needed to lay low in case the GIW or … the Fentons were searching for him. If they noticed the power surge of the portal, it’s likely, but who knows. Maybe they didn’t notice anything. Maybe Danny’s still safe.
“Yo, Danny, are you okay man?” Steph asked, nudging him. They were at lunch, having gone off campus to a coffee shop instead of sticking around the cafeteria. Tim was downing his coffee and staring longingly at the second one he ordered like he couldn’t drink them fast enough. Steph and Danny had both gotten sweeter drinks because, as Steph says, they have taste buds that work.
“Yeah,”Danny said, rubbing the back of his neck.”Just an off day, you know? Couldn’t sleep.”
Tim perked up at that.”You know you can always come over to the manor-”
Danny cut him off with a groan. “I told you Tim, I’m not coming back.”
“Yeah I know,”Tim glowered, sipping his drink. “Had to try though, the Demon Brat is still spamming my phone about you. Even Bruce asks for updates.”
“Yeesh, even Bruce?” Steph winced, looking between the two boys. “Yikes Danny. Bruce isn’t known for letting things go. You’re doomed.”
“He’s not ‘doomed’,” Tim rolled his eyes, while Danny sighed dramatically from the other side of the table.
“You know, it’s kind of hard to keep a low profile with a billionaire taking an interest in you,”Danny commented dryly. Tim shrugged.
“Just means he can keep you safe from whatever you’re running from,”Tim raised an eyebrow pointedly at Danny’s scowl. His phone alarm rang and the three of them started packing up to head back to school.
“I don’t want to talk about it,”Danny wrinkled his nose. “And wouldn’t hiding with a billionaire make it easier for them to find me?”
“He’s got a point,”Steph chimed in, getting a look from Tim. “I’m pretty sure Bruce has a room for me just on the off chance I spontaneously need adopting. No doubt they’re gonna keep your room exactly how you left it.” Tim fought back a smile, knowing it was true, but wouldn’t prove his point.
“Pssh, Bruce can be stealthy. No one will even know you live at the manor,” Tim pointed out. Danny snorted. “What? He can be stealthy,”Tim persisted, only for Steph and Danny to exchange amused looks and start laughing. “I’m serious!”
“Sure,”Danny chuckled as he and the others left the cafe and headed back to school. “He’s about as stealthy as the sun. Sure, you don’t see him at night, but when you do see him he’s super intense and the center of attention.”
Steph burst out laughing at that, and Tim made a face. “Okay that’s a fair point but still. I know we all told you before but everyones still worried about you.”
“I get it,”Danny said. More than you know, Danny thought wryly. He knew that if the GIW had a way to track him they’d be led straight to the Wyanes, and then their secret identities would be in jeopardy. Danny wouldn’t allow that to happen. Besides, if he’s on his own he can use his ghost powers to sneak away and fly to a different state undetected. “This is my problem to deal with though. Can we just drop it?”
Tim wilted. “Fine, but if you ever need anything let me know.”
“Will do,”Danny saluted lazily. He would not. And judging by the look on Tim’s face, he knew it too.
The conversation switched to upcoming school projects and classes as they made their way through the school. “Alright, I’m off to class, see ya later,”Steph waved.
“See ya,”Tim and Danny waved. The two boys had chemistry together, so they walked to class side by side. They were a bit late, so they didn’t have much time to chat before sitting down in their seats before class started.
---
Tim was a bit worried about his friend. Sure, he knew Danny could take care of himself, and had superpowers that could help him. But was he taking care of himself? Tim was sure the meal plan Damian had him on was all but nothing while Danny continued to live by himself. He wasn’t too worried, knowing that Danny was pretty good at surviving on his own. Besides, he was pretty sure everyone had scared Danny away with their lack of boundaries.
In addition, Danny was a good person. Tim would be a fool to not see how the kid was trying to protect them. It was nothing they couldn’t handle, sure, but Danny didn’t know that. Even if the bats couldn’t be with him all the time, Tim was sure Phantom was protecting the kid. At one of the meet ups, Phantom had said he’s usually with the bats at night and Danny during the day. Though, the past two days Phantom had more or less said he’d be sticking around Danny more often so he wouldn’t be around much to help the bats. Which was fine. They’d need to find Danny to talk to the Phantom though, because they hadn’t been able to give Phantom a communicator before he disappeared.
A voice came over on the intercom and Tim snapped out of his thoughts to pay attention. Especially since the rogues were keen on attacking schools, Tim was listening to make sure there wasn’t some sort of attack on the way. Oddly enough, it was just about a student needing to come to the office. But that student? Danny.
Danny stiffened next to him, and Tim looked over with a raised brow, silently asking if he wanted company. Danny gave him a small smile and shook his head,”Probably just something about paperwork,”Danny whispered before gathering his things and making his way out to the office while Tim’s head spun with questions. The intercom didn’t give any details, and despite it probably being about paperwork, considering Danny had no actual adult supervision at home, Tim had worries. Parent teacher conferences were weeks away, and Danny hadn’t gotten in any kind of trouble at school. He had a bad feeling about this.
Exactly two minutes after Danny left, Tim raised his hand. “Can I be excused to the bathroom?”He asked and the teacher, Ms. Morgan, sighed but waved her hand to let him go. She was more than used to Tim’s antics, but because of his good grades and lack of friends, she let him do what he wanted. Maybe he should send her some sort of gift basket, he thought. She was a good teacher.
Once in the hallway, Tim beelined for the office on silent footsteps, passing by the bathrooms on his way. He kept an eye out for Danny, pausing when he heard voices coming from the door to the office. Getting as close as possible, TIm busied himself with a nearby locker while he eavesdropped.
“I assure you, this is the best possible outcome for everyone,”Someone was saying. He didn’t recognise the voice, but it sounded like a man.
“I suppose. As long as you keep your end of our deal. I don’t want any of this getting out,”Tim recognised the vice principal’s voice. What kind of deal? And where was Danny?
“Trust me, your school’s reputation is safe. Dealing with these creatures is classified government business. Nothing will get out to the public,”The man was saying, and Tim’s blood ran cold. Creatures? Were they talking about Danny? Did they know? Where was Danny? Tim thought frantically. He needed more information.
“Either way, this is how far I’m willing to help you. Follow the others through the back entrance. I don’t want anyone seeing you or the boy,”The vice principal, Miss Wethers, snapped.
“Trust me, he won’t be seeing anyone from Gotham Academy anytime soon,”He chuckled darkly, and dread filled Tim’s chest. They had Danny? Where was Phantom? How did they know where he was? Tim thought frantically, shoes squeaking on the floor as he quickly made his way to the back door of the school. It was the staff parking lot, and if he didn’t want to run into Miss Wethers or the creepy dude he’d have to go the long way.
On the way, Tim took out his phone, calling Jason and putting a com in. The others would be at school or work right now, and he knew Bruce and Alfred were getting ready for the Gala tonight.
“What is it now, Replacement?” Jason snapped, but Tim didn’t have time.
“The GIW’s at the school, I think they got Danny,”Tim rushed out, turning a corner and skipping down the stairs. “They’re taking him through the school’s back entrance, I’m on my way there but I’m in school clothes,”Tim said, and he could tell by the movement on the other end that Jason was getting his gear.
“Alright, find out what car and where they're going but don’t interact unless you have a way to sneak Danny out without them noticing,”Jason grunted,”Be there in five.”
Tim gave an affirmative and cut the comm, finally making it to the back entrance door. He wasn’t sure if Danny had five minutes, but Tim was confident in his ability to be a distraction and stall for time. He eased the door open and immediately latched onto seven guys in white suits, three of which were carrying what looked like a heavily restrained and unconscious Danny into the back of a big white van. Damn. From what Tim could see, there was a muzzle and handcuffs, but he wasn’t sure if Danny was knocked out or drugged.
“Shit,”Tim cursed as the last guy came through the side of the building with the vice principal behind him. He didn’t have hardly any of his gear on him and they were about to leave. Taking out what he had in some hidden pockets, he activated a tracking device and took aim, hitting the van perfectly on the back of the vehicle, near the back right tire.
Tim chewed on his bottom lip nervously as he watched the van doors close. For a small group they were very efficient and fast at getting Danny out and on the road. Tim eased out from behind the door and made his way behind some cars, following the van’s path as they drove out of the parking lot. He knew he couldn’t keep up from ground level, so he climbed up to the rooftop of the nearest building when he had a chance to do it without being spotted. The whole time he felt nothing but worry for Danny.
“Hood, come in, where are you?” Tim asked impatiently. “They’re in a white van, sending you the location now. I managed to get a tracker on them but couldn’t get Danny out.”
“Two minutes out. How’s the kid?”Hood grunted, and Tim could hear the sounds of his motorcycle in the background.
“Not great. They have handcuffs and a muzzle on him, and he was unconscious when they loaded him into the van,”Tim reported, and Hood cursed.
“I see em’,”Jason said, and Tim could hear the roaring of his motorcycle across the street. Tim brought up his phone and used it to pull up the tracker he’d set on the van. He took a second to catch his breath from roof hopping, and tried to calculate their path.
“Looks like they're headed towards the docks or the outskirts of Gotham,”Tim cringed. That’s also where a bunch of warehouses and abandoned buildings were located. It would be hard to find Danny around there if they manage to get away or ditch the van.
Suddenly, there was an explosion and Tim looked up from his camera with wide eyes. Looking over the edge of a building he was perched on, he could see the van scurry to a stop, smoke and what looked like the aftermath of an explosive right in front of them. “Jason?” Tim exclaimed, only to catch a glimpse of the Red Hood coming out of the smoke dramatically. He sighed a breath of relief.
“What, worried about me Timbers?” Jason sing-songed, and from the roof Tim could see two agents exiting the van as Jason drew his guns. Tim huffed a laugh. “Stay out of sight, not sure what weapons they have on hand.”
Jason sneered at the white-suited agents as they approached him with a haughty walk. “The fuck do you think you’re doing kidnapping kids in my territory?” Jason called out to them, and the second guy paused. They weren’t actually in Jason’s area, but Gotham counted as his territory when he wanted it to be.
“You misunderstand,”The first agent said calmly, holding up his glowing green weapon nonchalantly. “I’m agent K with the Ghost Investigation Ward, we’re simply taking the entity in. It’s just possessing the boy, and it’s our job to apprehend it. You’re interfering with government jurisdiction.”
Jason let out a breath, but cocked his guns. “I don’t care who you are or what you’re doing. Step away from the vehicle before I start shooting.”
Agent K looked incredibly annoyed and yet smug as he slowly lowered his weapons. “Fine, we’ll do things your way. Agent O?”
At that, the other Agent dropped his weapons, including what looked like a glowing green grenade that rolled towards Jason. Hood cursed and leaped away as it went off in a flash of green light, firing at the Agents as they pulled out their weapons. Jason hadn’t seen any weapons like theirs in action before, but it was clearly heavy duty. Agent O even tried to shoot a fucking net at him like he was some kind of crime fighting fish. Frustratingly, they kept him on his toes while he ducked behind a car. Jason managed to hit Agent K in the shoulder before the two ducked behind the car door. Hood caught a glimpse of them inching back to their van, and made to follow when suddenly the van itself rumbled.
Tim and Jason’s eyes widened as what looked like missiles and lasers appeared from the van and locked onto Jason. “Shit,”Jason cursed, woefully unprepared for their tanked up van. Three missiles immediately took off, and Jason did his best to get to better cover while green lasers shot at him. One of the grenades from earlier hurtled towards him too, and it was at that moment that Jason vowed to blow up each and every one of those white suits in the van. He hissed as a lazer caught his leg and grazed his side. Clearly the weapons were made to hit ghosts, but damn, they still hurt. He needed to step back and regroup. As much as he hated to admit it he’d need backup. Or more firepower to counter these weapon-crazed maniacs.
“Hood! They’re getting away and the tracker is down!” Tim shouted in his ear. Jason grimaced.
“Little busy here,”Jason grunted as two missiles collided with each other, but the force of the blow blew him back, dragging his feet on the pavement. The third one struck him before he had time to dodge, and all he heard was the screeching of tires getting further away as it went off, sending him into darkness.
Tim cursed as Jason was thrown back into a building before slumping to the ground. The van was gone and the tracker malfunctioned when the weird energy sources of the van's weapons activated. As much as Tim would have liked to go after Danny, he didn’t have a car or his Red Robin suit, nor a way to track them anymore. And Hood was down, He thought dryly.
Hood was already moving by the time Tim skidded to his side. There was no blood, so Tim figured it was just a lot of percussive force damaging his brother. He’d have a lot of bruises for sure. As Hood grumbled and caught his bearings, Tim helped him stand, finding burns through his armor on his side and left thigh from the lasers. He grimaced in sympathy.
“You okay?” Tim asked once Hood was standing. He didn’t seem injured too badly, but might have a concussion if not for the red helmet on his head.
“Yeah,”Hood coughed. “Nothing I can’t handle. Wasn’t prepared for that shit though. The fuck do they have so many heavy duty weapons?” Hood spat, brushing off Tim’s hands. “Any way to track them?”
Tim shook his head. “I didn’t see Phantom anywhere but they managed to get Danny by roping the vice principal into setting up a trap for him. I didn’t notice until after they had him.”
“Shit, think they got Phantom too?”Jason swore again, but went over to where his motorcycle was, dragging Tim with him. “C’mon, we’ll find them.”
“Yeah,”Tim responded, feeling his brain buzz with anxiety and plans. He’d have to figure out where the GIW base was, how they got into Gotham, and hack into the CCTVs to figure out if Phantom was around. A helmet was shoved into his arms and Tim jolted back to the present.
“We’re on our own for this one. B and the others are on their way to the Gala already,”Jason said, revving the motorcycle. “Sides, not much we can do until we track down the van. We’ll gear up at my place and come up with a plan before looping in everyone else.”
“I can loop in Spoiler,”Tim added, twisting his arms around Hood’s waist. Jason grunted in agreement and they made their way to Jason’s apartment without following most traffic signals. The whole way, Tim worried about his friend and what the GIW would do to him. Though he had one big question hanging over him. Where was Phantom?
Chapter 20
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paul mccartney x reader where he flirts with her but she can’t tell if it’s genuine or he’s just being a typical 60s playboy? :)
And I Love Her
Paul McCartney x Reader
•Warnings: There are none.
•Summary: One knock on the window turns into one big surprise just waiting to unfold.
•Characters: 5,321
It was rather a lovely day in Liverpool, other than the fact that it was freezing cold outside. You were seated near the fireplace, all of your blinds were drawn up, light was pouring into every room, and which it gave you every opportunity to look outside and see the amazing view of the outside world while it lasted. The sound of water boiling in the background could be heard, as well as the fire crackling beside you. It felt peaceful, it felt so comfortable just in that moment of time. That was until you heard a knock at the window to your right, you looked up, and there was Paul. Waving at you from the other side, he wore a rather large coat to keep himself from having hypothermia or frostbite. You smiled at the sight of him, you had gotten up, made your way to the window, and popped it right open. Feeling how the cold air rushed into the comfort of your home. “Hello love, I couldn’t help but stop by and see your lovely face.” He ducked and popped his head through the now open window, leaning his figure against the windowsills frame. “Paul! Cant you use the door like a normal person?” You let out a small laugh. “Well, I for one am not normal and two I find talking out of a window to a bird like you much more romantic.” He poked your nose after talking. Paul has a history of flirting with you for god knows how long, but in all honesty you think he’s just messing with you to get a reaction out of you. Although he is pretty charming you never quite fall for his tricks seeing how all the other lovely birds fall to their knees as soon as he just speaks a single word.
You placed your warm hands against his flushed cheeks, feeling how cold his skin really was. You’d lower yourself down to his level, before pushing him out of the window. “Now please go use the front door, before you catch a cold! You’re as cold as ice. I’ll fetch you some tea for you once you get situated inside.” You pulled the window down, shutting it before Paul could get another word out. Not long after unlocking the door for Paul the kettle would start to whistle.
Paul stood there in the cold, staring at the window you just closed, scolding himself for not saying anything before you had gone away. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he huffed, feeling as if his feelings got pushed back once again, hadn’t he made it clear to you yet? How many obvious things does he have to say or do until you finally get the hint. Paul just wanted to grab you, and kiss your pretty lips but damn him for doing so. He could say about a thousand words of how much he’s loved you since the day he laid eyes on you, but alas he feels as if you don’t feel the same as he does.
Paul opens the front door, walking in, closing the door behind him before anymore cold air gets in, and starts to take off his shoes and coat to hang up. “Would you like any biscuits with your tea?” You’d shout from the kitchen, “Yes please!” He made his way to the living room to sit next to the fire, his fingers felt like they were made of solid ice and looked as if they were too.
“Sorry if there isn’t as many biscuits as you would’ve wanted but that’s all I really ha-“ You walked into the living room with a tray of cups, accompanied with a plate of biscuits. Your eyes laid onto Paul’s shivering body. “Dear, really, how long have you been outside?” You carefully sat down and placed the tray in between the two. “Not that long I promise, love.” His gaze was set on the fire beside him, you could tell he was lost in his thoughts, there was always something in that mind of his, things that got him to where he was now. “Your body is telling me a whole different story.” You ever so gently grabbed his hands, now holding them up to your face, before blowing warm air onto them. Once that first hit of warm air hit his hands, his head turned to face you. “Fine I’ll tell you why I’m really like this.” He took a deep breath, preparing for you to hate him after this is done. “I had been circling the whole block, trying to decide if I should tell you how I really feel, you know it doesn’t help that I keep dropping really obvious hints, and you’re not picking up on them. What— I’m trying to say is that I love you more than anything y/n, I feel like I’m crazy, but when I first laid eyes on you back in the late 50s god I thought you surely were the one for me. Y/n, you were such a fox I me—“ you placed your finger on Paul’s lips, silencing him from spilling his heart. “Paul, I’m so sorry. I thought you were just playboy, trying to take my heart for granted, but I was so wrong.” Paul’s eyes looked as droopy as a sad dogs, he surely thought this was going to the final nail in the coffin for sure. “You’re such a good man, a real loyal one too..I really should’ve opened my eyes more, but to answer all of your dying questions this is what I have to say..” you watched as he squeezed his eyes shut waiting for you to go off on him, but rather you showed him the complete opposite. You laid your lips against his. Giving him a quick peck on the lips. “I love you too.” That was all he needed to hear, before opening his eyes and jumping up. He started to celebrate, throwing his hands into the air as if he was a little boy again. You just couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Now come on here boyfriend, we still gotta bring you back to health.”
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Danny & Duke Prompt/idea for y'all while I'm still trying to write my fic
Now I still don't know if I'm gonna include this in my fic, but I wanted to post it incase I didn't but essentially, Halfa/Quarta!Duke
Ok so basically Pariah Dark would be a halfa (until giving up his humanity/human half like Dan) and was sealed into the Infinite Realms by his brother, Gnomon The Eternal Light who was also a halfa, this in turn not only makes Duke part ghost, but also the biological nephew of Pariah Dark.
Duke has a very small amount of ectoplasm flowing throughout his body and also has a core much smaller/underdeveloped than other ghost and even halfas. He inherited abilities from both his father and his uncle resulting in him having a mixed core (light and dark [psh, ok y/n✋🏽🙄])
Insert traumatized Danny attending Gotham Academy after running away for whatever reason👁️👁️, ahem, and staying in the schools dormitories. Danny's first day is going great, he woke up early, made it to class on time, and his classmates were being nice to him, maybe things here wouldn't be so bad. THEN FWOOSH, almost instantly Danny feels a powerful (and somewhat familiar) chill down and his ghost sense goes off and then he starts panicking, cause if he goes ghost then the GIW will know where he is, if he doesn't help then this ghost will seriously fuck up the school.
Bbg spends a bit too long in his head contemplating his options and feels this overwhelming presence get closer, he doesn't hear anybody screaming so thats good. It very quickly becomes not good when the presence comes closer and he realizes why it feels so familiar, it was an aura similar to that of Pariah Dark. Well great that's just fucking great, first day at a new school and he's possibly gonna get beat up by the former ghost king, which by the way, WHO THE FUCK LET HIM OUT-
Danny is thoroughly surprised though when it isn't a ghost capable of mass destruction that comes into the class but actually a rather cute boy his age (oh very pretty ghost guy ok) it isn't until Duke sits at a desk and people start talking to him does he realize (holy fuck this guy is like me)
During his lunch break Danny-boy slips into the Ghost zone to ask his lil ghost council (which consist of Pandora, Dorothea, Frostbite, Wulf, and Clockwork) if it's possible for two different ghost to have similar auras, Pandora states the each ghost aura is unique to that individual, the only way for two ghost to have similar auras is for them to be related
Great, so Danny's classmate is a relative of one of his strongest enemies, and former king of the Infinite Realms? Fucking great
Edit/update: On Dukes side, he finds himself rather drawn towards the pretty new boy in his class and he doesn't know why (it's bc unlike him, Danny has a shit ton of Ectoplasm running through and Dukes still developing core is drawn to that)
Anyway when he starts hanging out with Danny, his core starts absorbing the ectoplasm in the air surrounding him (which comes from Danny constantly exiting/entering the Ghost zone an using portals) which in turn helps Dukes core develop faster, making his powers stronger and granting him new ones
Meme time
#Duke x Danny propaganda#Quarta!Duke#dp x batman#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc#would duke technically be the right heir to the throne?#idk about that stuff man😞#duke thomas#danny phantom#deadlights#Dukes powers develop much slower due to him being a quarter ghost#danny fenton#dc x dp prompt
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Yours to Hold
For Fluffbruary Day 13 (Choice)
To be perfectly honest: my brain is still not quite with it these days. But, I'm holding out hope that the fog will clear at some point soon (plz) and in the meantime here's a little one-shot I managed! Hope it's enjoyable 💜 (Click above to read on AO3 or see below the cut)
It had been months since Scarif. Most of it he had spent recovering from his injuries. All of it, he had spent wondering why he could face death more easily than he could face life, face her and all she represented. Hope. Happiness. Home.
He had come outside to think, hoping the bracing cold might clear his head and deliver an answer. He knew how he felt about her, knew what he wanted. What he was searching for was the courage to try–to choose a future that extended beyond the next mission; something permanent and lasting and full of possibilities. Something not for the Rebellion, but for himself. Something to be shared…
Of all the planets Cassian had been sent to during his time with the Rebellion, Hoth was by far his least favorite.
Maybe it was because it was frigid as hell.
Or maybe it was because the loose snow sliding beneath his foot had a tendency to remind him of sand…
Or because sometimes, when a storm blew in, the horizon disappeared, a blinding white, returning him to the awful edge of oblivion; a planet devoured before his very eyes…
Already, dark clouds were beginning to encroach upon the brief glimpse of blue sky he had managed to snatch. By his estimate he had maybe fifteen minutes left in the fresh air before he would need to retreat back into the gloom of Echo Base. He dreaded the thought, his head aching in memory of the harsh halogen lighting, chest tightening as he pictured the maze of tight, winding tunnels leading to crowded and too-small ‘rooms’.
Sure, on Yavin 4 he had been forced to check his bed every night in case a poisonous Yavinian centipede had wandered in, but it had also offered places to turn to when he sought solitude–jungle trees that he could lean against instead of the frozen rock wall at his back now.
At best, Hoth could offer him a barely habitable tundra to wander onto that–conditions permitting–would host him for maybe thirty minutes before the threat of frostbite drove him back into the Rebellion’s cramped quarters.
“Cassian?”
Even through the harsh whispers of the rising wind he recognized her voice–three, barely audible syllables and suddenly the icy air didn’t seem quite so cutting.
Jyn marched towards him, head ducked low against the wind, arms crossed over her chest, hands clutching her elbows in a tight self-embrace. A gray hat covered her head and a scarf to match was wrapped around her neck, the end of it tucked into the parka she wore–standard-issue blue, and seemingly at least a size too large–the sleeves hanging well-past her hands.
She stopped when she reached him and peered up at him, cheeks turned scarlet from the burning cold, loose strands of hair blowing across her face and over her brilliant green eyes.
He’d come out here to be alone. To think. And yet, suddenly all the thoughts in his head seemed out of reach, as did any semblance of speech.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked incredulously.
Cassian cleared his throat and gestured upwards. “You just missed it.”
“Missed what? I didn’t know there were any new arrivals scheduled today…”
He shook his head. “No, not a ship. Sky.”
Jyn tilted her head back, eyeing the infinity above them skeptically. “Pretty sure it’s still there, Cass,” she commented.
“Clear sky,” Cassian elaborated. “Blue sky. Remember that?”
“I’ve heard of it,” she laughed, and the sound was meant for his ears (as all sounds are), but somehow it wasn’t something he heard so much as felt–winding its way through him, leaving warmth and energy in its wake, before settling somewhere against his heart.
“Cass? Hello?”
“Sorry.” Cassian blinked, snow from his eyelashes melting against his cheeks and blurring his vision. “What did you say?”
Jyn rolled her eyes. “I asked if it was worth it, but I think I have my answer. The cold’s clearly gone to your brain.” She turned her back to the wall and leaned against it beside him, looking at him expectantly.
It wasn’t the cold making him so addle-minded, Cassian knew it wasn’t that. No, it was something far more daunting, far more potent, and definitely not as easily shaken.
Jyn looked away from him, out onto the increasingly hazy landscape. “Were you really just out here to look at the sky?” she asked quietly.
She knew the truth, or at least part of it. She always did. He didn’t know how, but she did, the same way he knew he didn’t have to answer her–that she didn’t expect him to. His silence would say enough.
“It’s suffocating in there,” she murmured. “Not enough light, not enough air.”
“Too many people,” he added quietly.
She nodded. “Too many,” she agreed. “But out here it’s…”
“Quiet. Gives you a chance to think.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“Sometimes.”
She peered at him from beneath frost-covered lashes. Lips quirked in a pensive, knowing smile. “What about today?”
Today? Today his eyes had been drawn to Jyn the moment she entered the mess hall; had followed her every step with a sort of dizzying wonder that was at once exhilarating and terrifying. Today Chirrut, sitting beside him, had nudged him pointedly and asked, ‘What are you waiting for, Captain?’
But there wasn’t a single answer, there was an entire swarm of doubts that continued to plague him.
It had been months since Scarif. Most of it he had spent recovering from his injuries. All of it, he had spent wondering why he could face death more easily than he could face life, face her and all she represented. Hope. Happiness. Home.
He had come outside to think, hoping the bracing cold might clear his head and deliver an answer. He knew how he felt about her, knew what he wanted. What he was searching for was the courage to try–to choose a future that extended beyond the next mission; something permanent and lasting and full of possibilities. Something not for the Rebellion, but for himself. Something to be shared…
“Today, it was a good thing,” he said at last. It was a good thing because having Jyn in his thoughts, even if they were anxious ones, was still having Jyn there, with him–a sudden, strange, and unexpected source of strength and light.
She pushed herself off the rock wall and stepped in front of him, so close he could see the individual hairs that were caught up in her eyelashes, fixed in place by her hat and the wind. “Tell me about them,” she said. “The good thoughts.”
Waking up in the infirmary to find her there, resting at his bedside, arms folded beneath her head…
Hearing her laugh for the first time, a proper laugh as he and K2 bickered over something inane; he’d forgotten the fight the moment he heard the sound, caught himself automatically smiling in response…
Her surprising patience during his recovery, tempering his own frustrations; the way she’d always been there to sit with him in silence after a particularly trying day…
A quiet corner of the galaxy, somewhere verdant and warm and free of war; Jyn standing beside him, always beside him…
Instead of answering, he found himself pinning the fingertips of one of his gloves between his back and the rock and tugging his hand free. His breath caught in his chest as he slowly reached towards her face, gently sweeping a finger over the surface of her forehead, sliding the hair away from her eyes.
He should have dropped his hand after that, should have pulled away, but instead, his palm moved instinctively to cup her cheek, the softness of her skin serving in stark contrast to the bite of the air around it.
Jyn stared at him, something unreadable in her eyes as she searched his face. “Your fingers are cold,” she said softly, even as she slowly removed her own gloves and reached for his hands, tugged his remaining glove away. “Let me warm them up…”
Time seemed to slow down as she folded her hands over his own, squeezing lightly, before bringing his fingers to her open mouth and breathing onto them, the warmth of her seeping into the chilled surface of his skin, setting fire to his stuttering heart.
“Jyn…” he murmured, but anything he might have thought to say to her stuck in his throat, forgotten and useless.
He leaned closer, till the breath that had been warming his hands was ghosting across his lips instead. And for a moment, that was all there was, just the sound and feel of their breathing: a whispered question so powerful, it blocked even the howl and bite of the rising storm.
Their eyes locked and held, the beginning notes of a song hanging in the air between them…
Cassian answered the call, tilting forward to press an eager kiss to Jyn’s lips.
A pleased hum buzzed against his mouth, matching the pull of her forming smile. She released his hands and leaned her weight against him as she rose to her toes, reaching to wind her fingers around his neck and into his hair.
He wrapped his arms around her, tightened the embrace, a wild melody tearing through him like thunder through spring air, full of promise.
When they parted, they did so slowly, scattering short kisses across cheeks and noses, and unable to resist one last deep, lingering kiss, before finally leaning away, just enough to clearly see each other’s faces.
The smug grin Jyn was giving him forced a soft laugh from Cassian. “What’s this look about?” he asked.
“Took you long enough,” she said softly as she stepped backwards, dragging the start of a trail in the deepening snow. “Now come on, you’ve been out here long enough–and I’ve got some ideas on how we can get warm.”
The plummeting temperatures didn’t seem capable of reaching him–not with the shadow of their kiss persisting on his lips–but Cassian didn’t bother to resist.
Jyn tugged gently on his arm, and he gladly followed
#rebelcaptain fluffbruary#rebelcaptain fanfic#rebelcaptain#jyn x cassian#b writes#is this fluff? maybe? idk? this is probably as close as i get anyways#the rebelcaptain network
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Can i requst a fic of the Reader coming back to the going merry from their trip of the nearby town, and they are freezing. And Sanji helps them warm up
(I know you said i could ask but like you don't have if you don't want to)
Let's Warm you Up
It's short but I hope you like it! Never written Sanji before so I hope he's not ooc :')
Sanji x gn! Reader (you/yours)
Word count: 709
Warnings/Tags: established relationship, Sanji taking care of reader, softness, strawhat pirate reader, reader is fairly skinny? Enough to sit with their feet on the chair in front of them, petname used for reader (mon amour)
You were so excited to get off the ship today, you almost got down after than Luffy. As much as you loved your crew, staying in relatively close quarters with the same people over such a long time with nowhere else to go did get exhausting after a certain point.
This time, you had docked at a lovely winter island and the way the snow sparkled in the gentle sunlight from above was beautiful. The town was fairly quaint but the local artistry was awe inspiring. Be it the frosted over lanterns, the dainty white silver jewelery you could see everywhere or the intricate candy sculptures they made from this thick syrup that apparently could only be found on this very island.
Everything was so pretty and since you had wanted some time away from everyone else, you were walking the streets alone. Much too soon, you realised your money dwindling and you realised that the thick coat you wore didn't actually keep you as warm as you wished. In your enthusiasm, you had forgotten your gloves and your fingers were starting to hurt, feeling frozen and a bit stiff. Your toes were in similar condition and you decided it would be better to get back to the ship for now.
On your way, you wondered who had stayed on the ship to guard it this time, as you hadn't paid attention to the others talking about it. Clearly it wasn't you, since you had stayed back last time you had been on a relatively peaceful island like this. No matter whom you'd find though, you really needed something to warm up and quickly.
By the time you arrived, you were shivering and your teeth chattered uncomfortably. As quickly as possible, you went to the kitchen, hoping to maybe make yourself some tea or something else similarly warm. The sight that greeted you wasn't one you expected but you were happy to see Sanji leaning against the counter, drinking his own warm beverage.
A sniff into the air made you think it was probably a tea of some kind but you weren't sure which one. As soon as he saw you, his eyes widened, eyebrows shooting up as he pushed himself away from the counter to walk over to you while you closed the door behind you.
"Oh, you're freezing! You should have come back way sooner than this, what if you had gotten frostbite? Sit down, I'll be right back."
Sanji didn't let you get a word in edgewise and gently pushed you towards one of the chairs, sitting you down. You were still shivering but it was much warmer in here than outside at least and the difference in temperature made you shudder.
When he came back, Sanji had a thick blanket with him. Yet he didn't put it over your shoulders.
"We should take off you coat, it's freezingly cold", he told you, standing ready with the blanket.
However, trying to open it proved too difficult with your fingers so stiff and you looked up at the cook, wanting to ask him if he could help. You got about one word out before he was already leaning over to open your coat for you, the blanket laid on the table in front of you for now. He helped you take it off too, letting it fall to the floor in favor of wrapping you in the blanket quickly.
It surely was much warmer than the coat and you hid your face in the soft fabric, rubbing your cold nose against it. Sanji picked up the coat to hang it over the back of one of the other chairs and came back to help you take off your shoes. After all, your toes needed to warm up too and your shoes were wet from the snow you walked through before.
"Thank you", you told him as you put your feet on the seat as well, tucking the blanket under them so it pressed against your toes.
Sanji smiled and took your hands in his, softly kissing your still cold knuckles.
"Not for this, mon amour. I think you could use a warm drink. Do you want me to make you some tea? Or maybe a hot chocolate?"
#vinsmoke sanji#Sanji#One piece#Gn reader#Fluff#Comfort#Fanfiction#Drabble#Ficlet#Mine#Writing#X reader#Race neutral reader
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I gave you Danny last week, and continuing my cruel streak of not giving you the Bruce-And-Constantine that makes up most of the meat of this chapter… 😈 have some Jason!
We’re close to the end my dears so with any luck this is the last WIP Wednesday we’ll spend on chapter 11, and get that posted soon! I’m just slowing down a little, because Jason’s… well, he’s a little heavy in this one
Needs some cheering up. As always, the rest of the fic is in the tag and on AO3 under Danny Fenton: Dead and Loving It
——————
Fuck the no killing rule, Jason was gonna murder Harley Quinn. And by that, yeah, he probably actually meant “seek vengeance in some small but annoying way”, but still.
He didn’t actually have a crush on Danny. It was a bit they were putting on to fuck with his nosey brothers, and it was probably a good sign that they’d apparently fooled Harley too.
But Harley was a hopeless romantic and prone to see romance where none existed, so maybe it wasn’t that good.
More importantly, Danny didn’t fucking know he was Red Hood yet. He’d have to text Harley tonight and drill that in, since she’d definitely picked up that Danny was in on the secret.
And since apparently they were all gonna be hanging out tomorrow.
He kinda wished he hadn’t brought it up. That Harley hadn’t asked.
He’d monopolised so much of Danny’s time already over the break, three full days and they still had to make that run back to Frostbite.
Danny must have had some other plans. Something he actually wanted to do with his time instead of just following Jason around.
The gala had been fun though. And so had today, it just… Jason couldn’t help feeling he was being too needy. Too clingy, with a guy he’d known for all of a week if you were generous.
Being around Danny made him feel like himself for the first time in fucking years, and he knew what he’d have given up for that.
He didn’t want to be too much. Too pushy. Didn’t want Danny to get sick of hanging out with him so soon, and leave him right back where he’d been; bitter, angry, and alone.
At least Danny didn’t seem to be thinking too much about Harley’s parting shot. There was definitely something on his mind, but they hadn’t actually unlinked arms.
Jason could feel his aura.
Concern-worry-worry.
Shit, they hadn’t fucking unlinked arms. Should they? Should Jason have? For fucks sake he was literally clinging to the guy, this was fucking ridiculous, he should just.
But Danny hadn’t pulled away.
It’d be weird to pull away now.
Jason managed to keep himself distracted in that little spiral all the way to the garage he’d parked his bike in. Danny waited until they left the manor’s grounds to speak again though, arms tightening around Jason’s chest.
“Pull over a sec?” He called above the wind, and Jason very firmly did not let that pitch him further. He pulled over, still firmly in the heights and far from any living souls.
Unless theirs counted. Probably not.
He dropped the kickstand and pulled off his helmet, hoping Danny just wanted to talk. Maybe ask him to make his excuses to Harley.
Ask Jason to drop him at the university and not follow him home. That’d make sense. He didn’t need a wayward puppy.
He didn’t actually get off the bike. Didn’t want to give up Danny’s arms wrapped around him, even if it was just for expedience.
And maybe realised that wasn’t a great idea when Danny rested his cheek on Jason’s back and a warm wave of relax-safe-reassurance threatened to swallow him.
“I know what you’re thinking about,” Danny admitted softly, and Jason damn near bolted. Barely heard the next words, which…
Well.
He knew Danny tended to overlook things. But it turned out he could be pretty damn perceptive too.
“She’s gonna be okay, you know. Cass. I can feel her anywhere in the city if I try, and I’ll know if something happens to her.”
And just like that, the bottom dropped out of Jason’s stomach.
He’d been trying not to think about it. Pretended he didn’t know what she’d be doing when she left, out in the city, one fucking accident from being like him.
Even worrying about Danny getting sick of him was better than that.
She might not even need the pit to bring her back this time. Gotham had a fuck ton of native ectoplasm even for a city; it couldn’t not.
Ectoplasm was made of and attracted to raw emotional energy. For all that people died every day in the city, more were born or moved in to join their ranks.
Gotham would be a metaphorical ghost town if they hadn’t, instead of the literal version slowly creeping across the city’s vigilantes.
From the rogues’ overdramatic schemes to the peoples’ undercurrent of rage and defiant joy, Gotham seethed with emotion. Most of the dead didn’t stay to use the ecto up, and every rogue attack brought a fresh wave.
Not clean ectoplasm like the realms, but tainted with their individual torments, the fierce glee, the desire to burn, it all churned into an ambient ectoplasm Danny swore he’d never seen in another city.
And that defiant spirit, the Gotham je ne sais quoi that made people put up with all the rogue attacks and dangers, was powerful too. Jason had known that even as a kid.
Now, it was literally the reason he was alive.
He might have a second core filling his system with pit water, but they’d both have dried up without the boundless “fuck off” energy Gotham was built on.
He’d felt it since the second he returned. He was alive in Gotham in a way he hadn’t been in Nanda Parbat, anywhere but the fucking pit. It let him think clearly.
Well.
Apparently Danny let him think clearly. That thought still stung. But it shouldn’t have surprised him.
He’d never been much of anything that other people didn’t make him.
It was why he didn’t really mind Clockwork trying to make him Danny’s knight within a couple hours of learning he was half dead. It was kinda what he did.
People had been using him as a weapon since he swung a tire iron at Batman himself. Protecting the guy who gave him his fucking soul back?
He’d have done that anyway, for free. And he got a kickass gun and a supernatural sense of when said asshole needed him. Honestly, easiest job of his life.
The catch would come eventually, but this whole “feeling the intent of people you talk to” thing left him way less suspicious than he still kinda felt he should be.
He’d rather that than be left nebulously owing his whole self to Danny with no way to repay him and no idea where the catch would come from.
It had just… never occurred to him that the same way Danny could reach out and find Vlad, he’d be able to find Cass. Or Jason himself, probably.
Jason hadn’t realised how tightly he’d wound himself until the pressure eased.
He sucked in a breath that seemed to fill his chest for the first time in hours, folded his arms forward onto the handlebars, and let his head rest against them.
Danny followed him down, never losing contact but his face slipping lower and lower down Jason’s back. It almost made him chuckle, imagining how they must have looked.
Actually, he did. Just a moment, a soft and almost giddy sound that he choked back immediately. He sounded… well. Not like himself.
He’d been itching since the girls left to patrol, wishing he could join them. Be Cass’s backup in the field and be sure she wasn’t going in on anything big alone.
Cass was a step beyond competent, she was exceptional and she’d been doing this for years without a shadow. On a regular day, she wouldn’t need help.
But hearing how close she was to losing her humanity and not coming back right no matter what had him on edge. He wanted to shield her, protect her from what he’d gone through.
It wasn’t that he wanted her out of the fight. The idea of asking her not to go out hadn’t even occurred to him. She could make her own choices and he’d back her with all he had.
He just absolutely fucking hated the idea that she was out there alone, while he had fucking nothing on him that’d let him go after her if she did need backup.
If she needed help, he’d have to waste time gearing up before he could go out after her. The other bats would have her back, they all would, so long as they weren’t busy too.
It wasn’t like he was anyone’s first choice for backup even now, he just.
Yeah. He might kinda get what Danny meant about his Obsession being protection. Protecting the bats was a recent addition, but Jason had burned himself out on enough missing kids since he got back to suspect.
He’d have to ask what an actual capital-letter Obsession felt like, but that would wait for another time.
Just knowing that Cass would be safe, had another pair of eyes and more powers than a Kryptonian watching her back made him feel like he could breathe again.
Even knowing that though, he was glad to have left the manor. He could take Danny home, suit up, and… wait.
Danny had no choice but to move back as he straightened, half moving to frown down at the smaller man.
“Is that why you wanted to leave?” He asked quietly, gauging Danny’s face.
Had Danny worked it out on his own? Felt him stressing out about his baby sister back in the field?
Did Danny know that Jason wanted to join her, if not necessarily which costume he wore, and cut his night short?
Would Danny do that for him?
The answer was obvious in the other man’s face as Danny shrugged, even before he spoke.
“I didn’t wanna put you on the spot, and I figured you’d rather get out of there,” he explained casually, leaning just a little into Jason. Enough to feel what warmth Danny had.
Jason hesitated for a long moment, not sure what to say. If he should thank Danny. If Danny would ask, and if Jason should tell him he was the Red Hood now.
It’d be weirder the longer he didn’t mention it. Like he was keeping a secret.
The same secret Danny had kept as a teenager, so at least he’d probably understand, but Jason didn’t like how it felt. He wasn’t fucking ashamed of being the Red Hood.
He’d done shit no one else ever could have, and every inch of his territory was safer than it had ever been without him. He was proud of what he’d done, even if he wouldn’t brag about his methods.
It worked. It got him where he was today, where he didn’t need to kill anymore because people turned tail at the hint of his damn name.
He still didn’t know how Danny felt about killing. It wasn’t something that came up in conversation much. Maybe he’d find a way to ask first.
Tonight, he managed a stiff nod and leaned a little of his own weight back into Danny. Even if the guy thought he was just gonna go home and mope there instead, it was a win.
“Thanks,” he said softly, half wishing for his helmet’s voice modulator. He didn’t like hearing his own voice sound so… vulnerable.
Danny, fucking angel of mercy that he was, chuckled softly and gave him a gentle tap upside the head.
“Yeah, well. Also wasn’t sure how the others would react to “99% of you are permanently on my radar” anyway, and I wanted to make sure you knew for Cass,” he explained cheerfully.
And yeah, Jason still hadn’t really processed that yet, and wasn’t even sure how he’d react. Smart fucking call on Danny’s part.
Chuckling under his breath, Jason shook his head and flipped the kickstand back up.
“Anything else before I take you to bed?” He asked, half teasing Danny’s own unfortunate choice of words earlier.
They were absolutely still fucking with his family to think this was some kind of romantic relationship. Maybe a bit to punish Bruce, who clearly couldn’t handle the idea of Jason happy.
Danny laughed, a hint of something Jason almost identified behind it, then settled himself more firmly against Jason’s back, hanging on properly again.
“Not a damn thing. Oh, are you gonna come pick me up tomorrow or do I make my own way to the manor to join you and Harley?” He asked, snugged up tight.
Jason had almost forgotten that was happening. Apparently. And suddenly he was glad for at least the motorcycle helmet as his cheeks flushed pink.
Fuck he’d say he was trailing after Danny like a puppy, except Danny was the one going where Jason needed to be.
Another excuse to get Danny on his bike, arms around him.
Fuck off, Jason Todd Romance Heroine. It was a goddamn jailbreak, if a legal one. Not a fucking meet cute.
“If you actually want to come,” he agreed a little hesitantly, because the voice that insisted he was just a burden and Danny was only humouring him wasn’t all displacement activity after all.
Or pit related, apparently. Delightful.
He coulda tried to pretend it was, but that had been more convincing back when it was always a background grumble of anger, not the little calm pool of happiness now sitting in his gut.
Unforeseen side effect of getting his toxic sludge cleaned up: he was gonna have to own some of his own bullshit now. Work out what was his and what wasn’t.
Danny leaned back a little, grip loosening, and Jason could feel concern like a whisper soft touch.
“Yeah… I would, if you don’t mind? It seems like he’s important to you.”
Jason wasted a moment trying to work out what the hell Danny meant by that.
Did he want to meet Croc cuz he was important to Jason? Or did he think Jason wouldn’t want him to if he was important?
Cuz while yeah, Jason considered Waylon a friend (and thanks, Harley, for the new name crisis, love that. The guy introduced himself as Killer Croc but Jason knew all about controlling a narrative) it wasn’t like he was family. Not like Dick, Cass, or the others.
Except. Roy was family. Long before any of the bats made it back into Jason’s good books, Roy was one of the first people to be happy Jason was alive.
And Waylon had helped Roy get help when Ollie fucking kicked him out.
Waylon had been a restraining hand on Jason’s shoulder too, in the bad old days. Keeping him from pushing too hard, going too big, doing something he really couldn’t come back from.
Family didn’t have to mean annoying texts at four AM. Didn’t have to come around for dinner every Sunday; how often did any of them really see Harley?
Fuck, how often would they have seen each other if Alfred didn’t have them all firmly under his culinary thumb.
Waylon had to count as a reliable old uncle at least.
And that kinda made it a different question. Did Jason want Danny to meet his family?
It had been an easy “yes” with the bats, not least because the nosy bastards would muscle their way in regardless. Croc…
Waylon never judged Jason. From his highest highs to lowest lows, he never looked down on him. Not even when he was telling Jason to stop and think.
It kinda made Jason ache for what his life should have been. His, and Waylon’s if he’d never been called Killer Croc.
And maybe it’d give Jason a read on how Danny would react to the Red Hood thing. Or whether or not Danny already knew.
——————
Ah, the darker sides of this story back again. We’ll get to Waylon himself next chapter (I hope), and in the mean time dear Jason has some baby angst and Bruce will only confuse things further
Tag list: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna
#danny fenton dead and loving it#wip wednesday#dp x dc#dpxdc#danny fenton x jason todd#dead on main ship#chapter 11#never make a promise you can’t keep#lots of angst today#not the deepest but lots for me
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Due to feeling intense brainrot for this new The Thing au me and Rufus made I'm gonna make a kinda. intro? post to it? basically listing off the characters with basic descriptions and the whole. premise of the au. You will listen to me ramble. no you don't have a choice. /lhj
BASICALLY. the au is a crossover between TMC and John Carpenter's The Thing (1982), and is about the main TMC cast working at an antarctic research station before being attacked and picked off one by one by an alien entity that mimics organic material. It follows most of the same events as the movie does, though has quite a few differences from the source material that we'll. discuss later. In the meantime, here's the main cast:
Mark Heathcliff (34): Already touched on this dude's main deal in another post but i'll add some things here. He's the head mechanic of the station, and is quiet, and a bit of a loner. He's a recovering (or attempting to recover) alcoholic that is estranged from his family due to such, and only maintains contact with his sister, Sarah. He sometimes lets his emotions get to him, though he knows how to act in serious situations.
Sarah Heathcliff (21): A college student studying electronics, and was invited to the research facility by Mark because she was thinking of working there one day. Still has some grudges against Mark, as their relationship isn't perfect, but she still cares about him and Mark still cares about her. Becomes friends with Evelin.
Evelin Miller (22): The helicopter pilot and technician of the group. Also a bit of a loner, but helps around the facility whenever needed. Hangs out with Dave sometimes.
Cesar Torres (35): The dog Handler of the group, and thus spends a lot of time with the dogs. Is friends with Mark, though their friendship is. rocky, even if they're trying to fix things between each other. He's a bit more social than Mark, though isn't super energetic either. Overall, the voice of reason.
Dave Lee (46): The Biologist of the group. Is pretty friendly towards his coworkers, albeit awkward at times. Also has an interest in tech, even if it isn't his main profession. Though, he tends to make rash decisions when stressed.
Thatcher Davis (45): One of the station commanders. Overall: very tired and stressed. all the time. DEFINITELY has cabin fever. Overall pretty blunt, and occasionally rude, though he almost never means it in malice that's just how he sounds-
Ruth Weaver (46): The second Station commander, as well as a physician/medic. Quiet and calm in stressful situations most of the time, and is overall just there to help.
Jonah Marshall (23): The radio operator and cook of the group. Overall pretty positive and jokes a lot, though gets stressed and frustrated easily, along with being a bit of a coward at times.
Adam Murray (23(?)): A man who doesn't remember who he is after waking up in a Norwegian research base in the arctic. He doesn't remember much of anything from his past, and is unsure why he's so cold, or why he was found with blood on him.
Gabriel (30): The station commander and medic of the Norwegian research facility. Found Adam and took him in to be treated for frostbite. they seem nice, though something about their stare is. unnerving. They have a few coworkers as well (though they don't have proper names or personalities/occupations yet. Though one of them goes by Six, and is. oddly quiet.)
#ramblings :)#the mandela catalogue#mandela catalogue#tmc#tmc the thing au#alcohol mention#Wow! I sure do love these funky characters! I sure do hope nothing bad happens to them!!#Also these characters WILL get designs soon#we're just figuring them out right now-#also also. things are subject to change so. who knows maybe this will be outdated in a couple days- /LH
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Some more snippets of interest and insight from Mark Darrah, from some older Mark Darrah on Games YouTube videos where he was livestreaming playing Dragon Age: Origins some months ago. (Multiple videos are covered in this post, so the source video of each bullet point is included there) -
"I'm pretty sure that the [in-world] Dragon Age will be an age that lasts a suspiciously long time, as long as there are Dragon Ages being made. I don't think they will drop 'Dragon Age' because it's such an identifiable part of the franchise". [source]
"I totally cannot spoil what the original Black City was supposed to be. I'm pretty sure that the approach to lore in DA has always been to leave it ambiguous to allow the future to go where it needs to go. Though that being said, DA:O was definitely built with the assumption that it was not getting a sequel." [source]
"The Calling is presented as taking decades to kill you on its own. So Alistair would still be alive in DA:I and DA:D if he went that way. I think, if I remember the lore correctly." [source]
"DA:O introduces a lot of hanging plot threads that aren't necessarily resolved. Orzammar potentially sets up a civil war, there's potentially werewolves running around. There's a lot of stuff we've been able to kind've ignore, but there's a lot of stuff that's still out there. The line of succession for Ferelden is open isn't it." [source]
[on the Warden's quest for a cure for the Calling] "I don't think it's established that the cure is actually found is it. Or just that they're looking." [source]
"Likely any cure for the Calling would be to extract the Taint from the person, so you would basically cease being a Grey Warden at that point." [source]
"I think they're treating the Trespasser epilogue slides as canon." [source]
[during DA:O epilogue slides] "You can see, this leaves a lot of threads in a lot of potential different directions that Dragon Age has been dealing with since then, since 2009." [source]
"The resistance that there was for toolset for Frostbite was a feeling like, 'this engine is proprietary, it does a bunch of stuff that we don't want other people to be able to steal'. That's basically not even true anymore. There's actually a feeling now within EA that user-generated content, UGC, is incredibly good, that it's basically free marketing. Like you say, Skyrim has been going forever. So that's why, EA has a really complicated relationship with UGC. What they want is basically, everyone to make TikTok videos and things about how great the game is. They don't necessarily want you to make DLC or Twitch stream the thing but they also recognize that this is not a, you don't get to have one without the other really. Yeah, the 'cost of free ads from fans is fan DLC'. That's pretty much, sums it up perfectly." [source]
"CD Projekt uses slightly different language than BioWare did for DLCs, expansion packs etc. I would not classify the free DLCs from The Witcher as expansion packs, they're DLC. They called them expansion packs but from my perspective, an expansion pack is larger than that but it's a spectrum for sure. The thing I would say about CD Projekt in general is they're amazingly good at picking the right language. So what they did on Witcher 3 is they said, they added a tiny bit of content to each of their patches and said 'this is DLC, we're going to give it away for free, aren't we amazing?' And then they made their DLC a little bit bigger and then said 'these are expansion packs, we're gonna charge for that', brilliant. Honestly brilliant. Because it makes them, it's a great PR move, it also meant that they got a, every time they released a patch they essentially got an article on the gaming sites. It's something that BioWare and frankly DA in particular is pretty bad at, like, naming things, and using language that makes things sound better." [source]
[on The Sims] "'Buy a thing and then later they release more stuff to add to your thing', it's an amazing business model. It's also a business model that EA does not understand, they, like BioWare, suffer from being a thing that exists within the sports-focused EA ecosystem that, constantly trying to explain that 'our players are not the same as your players, you need to let us do what we know how to do'." [source]
"We had a free-to-play version for DA multiplayer, that was Hendrix. It's not on the, EA didn't want it to exist so it was only on the servers for a little while, a couple of months, but it was actually there. I'm sure it's not up anymore." [source]
"I don't know if Frostbite is gonna die. I think there's a very good chance that what's going to happen is, it may become the next sports engine. FIFA is a monolith and has taken over the driver's seat for that engine. I don't think they're gonna be very interested in switching again. Even if active Frostbite development in general goes away, FIFA will keep going and then a bunch of other games live in the rain shadow of FIFA, like NHL." [source]
"If it was up to me, I'd probably have forced Mass Effect onto Frostbite. And I would be strongly inclined to keep Dragon Age on Frostbite for at least one more game because you've built the foundation. The best engine to use is the one you just used. But I don't know what's gonna happen after DA:D to be honest. BioWare seems to be addicted to throwing away work they've done in the past. And it was never up to me." [source]
"Frostbite isn't a recruitment negative but certainly it's a lot easier to find people that already know how to use Unreal. What you actually see in programming is some people, it's not a universal, but some programmers, they don't wanna work in Unreal because they feel like someone else gets to do all the cool programming bits." [source]
"The question for Awakening is should it have even been an expansion pack, or is a different solution to have made it, say, 40% bigger and made it a full-sized game. This is, I think, the reason why expansion packs are so rare these days is because, it's easy to imagine a path from an expansion pack to a $60 or $70 game and then you're getting somewhere between 80-120% attach as opposed to 30% attach. I suspect this is the primary reason why expansion packs have kind've faded away, because 'I'm gonna ship every year' is fairly accepted within games these days. So honestly the pitch for Joplin's live service was 'we're not gonna do a live service, we're gonna do a game, and then we're gonna do another game in 18 months and another 18 months after that. And maybe we'll do one piece of DLC in there, but we'll just be like dunk-dunk-dunk' and the economics for that are great. So that's why expansion packs are gone I think." [source]
"That's the fundamental problem of DA:O not knowing it's gonna have sequels, it leaves the world in a very quantum state. There's still stuff that's hinted at in those [epilogue slides] that are happening sometime in the future that I think are gonna probably at this point be ignored. Probably the biggest issue of DA:O is that it leaves the world in a state that probably wasn't intending that there would be a sequel." [source]
"When we were discussing doing a remaster for the trilogy, my pitch was to essentially retcon it [DA:O, DAII and DA:I] into a trilogy, to make it the 'Champion's Trilogy' or something to that effect, where you group the three games together, imply that they were always intended to be a trilogy kind of, and then that does a couple of things. It packages them into something that stands on its own a bit better, but also lets you potentially change what you're doing with the player character going forward. If you've decided that, okay, we've changed player character every single game up until now, but maybe we're not going to do that going forward, by packaging them together in a remaster you kind've give yourself permission to do that. Certainly DA:D is gonna have a new player character, given that the one from DA:I is missing a limb." [source]
"We probably oversold the Wardens in the marketing for DA:O. Because essentially, what we did was establish them as the coolest thing in the world and then yeah, so the series has definitely been dealing with the aftermath oh 'but not Wardens? Therefore not cool' forever since then." [source]
"But a new player character means you have a harder job every single game, because you have to get people interested, you don't get the shortcut of 'Shepard is Shepard, you know Shepard'." [source]
"Anders is the one that made us rethink how we introduce romances, because a lot of people ended up in romance with him that didn't mean to. We'll see if they come back to that in DA:D, but I think that because of Anders in DAII, DA:I was definitely trying to not 'accidentally do anything to you'. But it does mean that it is very player-controlled and very player-initiated. But maybe they'll be willing to go back to that a little bit." [source]
"Tevinter Nights does a really good job of staying away from violating canon. The thing with, the further you go away from what's in the games the more you are, the less well it's gonna do, so that's not necessarily a problem but it is something to keep in mind that you don't, you're trying to make money with your novels. Setting it in a time period that people don't know is great for the core fans but isn't necessarily gonna do super amazing. The advantage that Tevinter Nights is, because it's an anthology, you're able to just, everything kinda just stands on its own and therefore you're able to just stay away from the major characters to a large degree." [source]
"Varric's definitely not quantum, he's in good shape. Dorian, I feel like Dorian is guaranteed to be around [as in quantum], but maybe not, maybe I'm wrong about that. But the games have gotten better or at least more conscious of what they do with companions as it's gone on, in terms of trying to, being at least aware of the fact that you might want these people to come back, so maybe at least understand the quantum you're putting them in. There's a bunch of followers in DA:I that you might just not recruit. Like Blackwall's pretty easy to miss. Dorian can show up but he doesn't die if you don't recruit him, he's alive. The biggest thing for quantum is 'are they alive', in which, in DA:O there's a lot that don't make it. Then you have to deal with, well they might be [killed/not recruited?] or something but the biggest thing is, if they're alive you can probably make it work." [source]
"I have a feeling that Desire Demons are going to be just, ignored, or, honestly I mean one way to, I think, Desire is seen in a very narrow light in DA:O. I think if you go, if you move into Desire being a much broader concept, you have a lot of options there. I think if you approach Desire in a broader sense I think you have some opportunities. But then you kind've end up with the DA:I problem with the Fear." [source]
He also talked more generally about DA:O and the franchise and things in general. These bits are collected under a cut due to length -
"Orzammar is definitely the place in DA:O that actually looks like Dragon Age. Everything else is kind've generic late 2000s fantasy, pretty much the same as The Witcher. For example, Ostagar has a more generic fantasy visual" [source]
"You know, other than DAII, DA does involve a lot of crossing the entire country to turn around and go back doesn't it" [source]
Chat asked "How well does the vanilla game DA:O play on modern hardware?" Mark replied, "I'm playing it on modern hardware, I don't have everything cranked way up and currently I'm running it in a window. It's running really well. The only thing that happens is if you turn the graphic settings up too far it will blow up because it will run out of memory. It's a 32-bit game and so if you cross 4 gig it will explode. But there are some mods out there that get you around that. That's the only problem with it is that, if you turn it up too far it will become unstable. I'm worried about stability problems during the [Battle of Denerim] part of the game" [source]
"I always found Redcliffe Village in DA:O a bit confusing to move around" [source]
Chat observed that the soil in Redcliffe would be be bad because of all the darkspawn and undead that were there. Some users theorized that the people there moved to a different part of the nearby land to make 'Redcliffe' again. Mark commented, "One of the reasons we felt okay pretty much redesigning Redcliffe in DA:I, because it's kind've broken. You know, we don't show it completely destroyed here but certainly it's hard its struggles" [source]
"I don't know who came up with the ogre-sync kill. Sync kills are really cool for bosses, they become a lot less cool for things when they're constantly happening but they're usually, unfortunately sync kills are often something that end up being de-prioritized as a feature, because they don't actually have a gameplay effect so they're kind've just aesthetics. So they often actually get cut for time reasons" [source]
Mark mentioned that he "certainly [has] some degree of lingering crunch trauma" [source]
[during the Battle of Denerim, when many creatures are on-screen] "DA:O does a good job of selling large groups for a game of its time. We must be doing a trick, something to get all this, because this is way over the creature count limit for DA:O. It's possible that we made special creatures that are way cheaper. Or it's a mixture. Waves is part of it. They aren't dropping any loot so there's definitely something going on" [source]
"Shouldn't there be people in the Wardens who have a bit more training in dragon killing?" [source]
"We probably should have auto-levelled unlevelled party members before the Battle of Denerim" [source]
[on the elves in the alienage during the Battle of Denerim] "Where'd they get the bows? Pretty sure it's frowned upon for elves to have weapons in alienages" [source]
"People do play DA solo which makes it difficult to have any sort of puzzle or anything that requires a group" [source]
[on Sandal] "I told the team if you put him in DA:I you gotta put him in everything because he basically then becomes a central figure of the franchise. So they gave him a rest. So you can blame me for him not being in DA:I" [source]
Chat asked "I'm curious why BioWare never brought back the army spawning mechanic from DA:O to DA:I, I always thought it was epic and underrated". Mark said "We talked about it in DA:I, it was actually a UI thing, we didn't have time to do the UI properly. I mean there's a lot of reasons why you don't get to play with your Inquisition well in DA:I, like to play with the organization, which is actually too bad" [source]
[while fighting baby dragons during the Battle of Denerim] Chat asked "Why are the baby dragons there in the first place?" Mark said "Someone wanted another addition to the combat. But it doesn't really make a lot of lore sense" [source]
[on lock bash] "I like what we tried to do in DA:I, giving you different things for different classes. Didn't really get used effectively. But it does strike me as weird, it didn't at the time, but playing through this, is like, you go into a space, all the chests are locked, you kill everyone, no-one has a key. Like, whose got the key to that chest?" [source]
"DA:O really does do some impressive army stuff given the chunkiness of its engine" [source]
[at end of DA:O] "Probably should have shown Morrigan leaving" [source]
"Alistair would be a fine/adequate king. He just needs a policy wonk to give him ideas" [source]
[during DA:O epilogue slides] "These are the ones that set up the quantum for the rest of the game" [source]
[during DA:O epilogue slides] "It's interesting that we called Dagna a mage" [source]
"I think DA:O still holds together. I mean it wasn't a very attractive game in 2009 and certainly it doesn't look better now than it did then, but I think it holds together. Some of the storytelling choices are problematic from a now perspective, almost everything in the Pearl, and then the whole broodmother bit could be, I mean it's a bit too far, it was probably a bit too far even at the time honestly. The combat holds up pretty well, because it's not 'push a button and immediately do an action' it has aged pretty well. The animations are kinda clunky and things don't line up very great but that's not that bothersome. It would be much more noticeable that it was a problem if things were a bit more direct" [source]
"DA:O has WASD in large part because Oblivion had WASD controls. I remember the transition and being kind've confused as to why you would do that, but yeah it's the right call. In the time that this was in development it became pretty universal" [source]
"How involved was I in Anthem? I was in charge of Anthem for the past 16 months. So a damaging amount" [source]
"Will I do an Anthem stream? I will probably do at least 1 Anthem stream. I might play through the story, I'm not gonna play multiplayer. I might play through the story and play it in pure dark pattern, forcing it to let me play it by myself, but we'll see" [note this video is several months old] [source]
[on Awakening] "Other than Destiny, this is pretty much one of the last expansion packs there ever really was with a retail presence. It's honestly a way better business than DLC. DLC you're attaching, maybe 10% of your people are gonna buy it, whereas expansion packs, 30%. You can spend a lot more money and make a lot more money with an expansion pack" [source]
"I think the idea for DA multiplayer getting harder when somebody died was to try to make the match start to end so that you weren't waiting. I don't know how effective that is, probably not very, but I think that's the thinking" [source]
"I don't think we really were, pretty much I think DA became a series when BioWare got bought by EA. I don't remember the exact moment but you can see by the slides at the end of DA:O there's a bunch of stuff that isn't really completely thinking about the fact that we're gonna have to pick up this ball in future" [source]
"Frostbite shares a lot with Unreal as well from a tools perspective. It wasn't done quite as intentionally. It's funny because the tools for Eclipse for DA:O, there was a specifically-designed wall between the two project streams to prevent this engine from taking too much from Unreal. There was a worry that Epic was going to get mad at us and sue us. Which given everybody elses' engine development was probably unfounded" [source]
"I imagine that a Blight probably increases Warden recruitment. I think it makes sense that people would be interested [right after a Blight was stopped] because you're the heroes on the block, but given what the Wardens know about Blights and things you would think that the responsible thing would be to actually cut recruitment way down, keep the order alive and then as they sense a Blight starting to come, ramp the recruitment way back up again. But I don't know that they know that a Blight is coming early enough to do so, so I guess the worry would be that if they don't keep their order relatively large then they wouldn't have the forces necessary to fight a Blight. Though of course you wouldn't expect another Blight right now, we just finished with one [Mark was playing Awakening's opening sequence at this time]. I think it's, there's darkspawn to fight and despite what they may claim, it's about being big enough to have a political impact on the world so that everyone doesn't ignore their existence and then they show up and no-one remembers who they are. Duncan talks about knowing it was coming but everyone not believing him so it does imply that they know at least some time beforehand. But you probably don't wanna wait til 1 year before it starts happening before you start rebuilding your forces" [source]
"The reason why Awakening was able to ship so close to DA:O was because DA:O moved a huge amount really late in development to do the consoles. So Awakening was pretty much mostly built in 2009, you know in the last 9 months of DA:O development, which was mostly porting it to the consoles. There's no way you were getting an expansion pack out within five months of that size without [this]" [source]
"Awakening is a masterclass in 'people who are familiar with the fools using the tools at their disposal to do some amazing stuff" [source]
"One of the challenges with expansion packs is they kind've have to fit inside the umbrella, even if they're taking place afterwards like this one does [Awakening], they can't raise the stakes too much. Whereas if it was a full-fledged sequel it could kind've do something new, kind've has to. Which is part of the problem with Awakening, given where DA:O leaves the world it's kind've hard to, we didn't really know where we were gonna go for our sequels yet, so that's probably why" [source]
"The problem with not sequel-ing Dragon Age is then what you would have been doing is probably trying to make a fantasy RPG in a new setting and then having this impossible comparison to DA constantly happening, and every single difference being a potential criticism, you can see why that, being a potential big problem. Much as I wouldn't want to wish it upon other dev teams, DAII is what allowed DA to be a series, because it kind've is the one that eats the rock of 'this is not like my previous game' and it kind've gets rid of the worst bits of continuity errors. And so to a large degree I would say that by DAII being this sort of thing that's rushed out to fill a financial gap, it allows the series to become a series. But you know, I wouldn't say that's the fix that everyone should take" [source]
"The problem you have to remember with DAII and 'more time' is very quickly you run into Skyrim releasing, and releasing DAII then, regardless of much much extra effort you put into it, after Skyrim is not a good thing. It has to kind've live there in a pre-Skyrim world. There is stuff that can be done for sure, but there's a limit to what you can do" [source]
"Mass Effect has, Shepard is too tightly associated with ME, so what do you do? Do you just keep bringing him back and making clones of him or something? That was definitely a problem in the case of Mass Effect: Andromeda because you had a younger player character, so therefore the tonal differences were seen as problematic. So it's something that you definitely have to think about" [source]
"With Justice, you do a pretty good job of explaining away anything that happens to Anders" [source]
"Oghren is here in Awakening in part because of again, quantum. Because Wynne could be dead, Leliana could be dead, Alistair could be dead, Sten could be dead or not even recruited. So you don't really have a lot of choices if you wanna bring a companion back." Here chat mentioned that Oghren can be dead. "Oh, so they do [in-game] respond to it [if Oghren was killed in DA:O]. He must have been the least quantum then. The place that you were most likely to kill Leliana in DA:O was at the Urn of Sacred Ashes, and I think we just sort've were like 'the Urn's right there so. She's fine'. Yeah, there needs to be a warrior [in Awakening]. I mean, we could've made a brand new character but. Sten was really likely to die. Lots of people didn't even recruit him. Hers [Leliana's death] is probably the most plausible retcon" [source]
"One of the things that kind've frustrates me a bit about the lore in DA moreso than ME is because it's so quantum, is the linear stuff in the comic books and novels have had, just picked canons on occasion. Which I get because you wanna have Isabela or Sten in the comics, but it does mean that it undermines the player agency there because it's like 'what you did isn't real, because here's what's real because we put it in a comic book'. I really don't like that but given the branching in the games you would've just had to have stayed away from those characters completely, which undermines the storytelling, so I don't know. I don't know what the answer is honestly. It's a good point that it's hard to imagine that Leliana's gonna be like 'sign me up for the Wardens' [source]
[on secondary media] "I don't disagree that you could do lots of prequels, but I think there's a limit" [source]
"The biggest reason why the darkspawn design changed from DA:O to DAII is that the DA:O darkspawn, mainly honestly the ogre, but they don't quite fit into our artistic palette, and there was a strong push from the art team on DAII to move the art direction into something that was ownable and so that's the main reason. It's really just an ownability perspective. But you can kinda see it in Awakening, because like The Withered is starting to look a lot like the DAII darkspawn, or at least he's headed in that direction" [source]
"One of DAII's big art direction things, Eclipse is really good at pushing polygons, so a lot of things in the art direction of DAII are pushing polygons. So they're spikier and they just have a lot more polys in them because it's one of the things it's really good at" [source]
"If you were doing a remaster you would keep the same engine. If you were doing a remake you would switch engines. It's not a remaster if you're switching engines, that's for sure" [source]
"I still maintain that Dog was essentially put through the Joining, but whatever. Technically probably everyone who has had contact with darkspawn blood is not a Warden, but it is a bit, I do think it's one of the things where the Taint and the Blight is a bit, is presented as being more bad than really is pulled off in the games" [source]
(pls note that in places there is a bit of paraphrasing of the info, the best source is always the primary source with full quotes in their original context)
#dragon age: dreadwolf#dragon age 4#the dread wolf rises#da4#dragon age#bioware#video games#alistair theirin#fav warden#long post#longpost#morrigan#queen of my heart#anthem#mass effect#next mass effect#mass effect: andromeda#tevinter nights#random spaces sry bc the bullet point list text blocks got too long
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I have a character named Annie, she was human, how would Y/N react to meeting her also she has ice magic. She is like a regular camera unit.
How would the characters react to her using her magic?^^
You don't have to answer this if you don't want to.
You are amazing!^^
Camron would find Annie's powers pretty cool! (No pun intended.) He just wonders where her ice powers came from...maybe there's some neat new tech that can make things freeze now? Were you born with it? How much can you freeze? He has a lot of questions!
DJ would be impressed from the ice powers, like a lot of units would be. Can you freeze skibidis solid and push them around like in those "video games" that his human friend shows him from time to time? It would be a pretty cool thing...hehe...sorry for the pun.
Vee would be impressed and would appreciate her skills. It's very useful to the alliance that she can use her powers to their benefit. Easy road hazards that ruins the treads of the skibidis and not to mention giving them a nasty case of frostbite. He respects her strength and magical gift.
Buddy would find Annie a little impressive. He thinks her powers are pretty neat and for some strange reason...she smells just like the Polaroid fellow he met a while back. Maybe there's something similar going on with her like Polaroid does. How odd.
Pal will appreciate the cool breezes from Annie and would enjoy listening to the sound of snowflakes and ice coming from her powers. It's like sitting in front of a refreshing fan or a nice cool fridge after being out and about all day. It's a comfort...plus, she's a new friend that smells like his human and that Polaroid cameraman! How fitting!
Fiend would probably watch from a distance or would try to not act impressed when she used her ice powers. His aloof nature extends to anyone not in his friend circle, so when she does all of the moves she knows and performs her abilities, he just snorts dismissively. Although it may be disheartening on the surface, the alliance human would show Annie that once he thinks everyone is gone, he explores the remains of her powers and will even play in the snow or ice if there is some!
As for the human, they would be more than happy to meet and communicate with her! Another human turned camera? That's quite a tale! Wonder why most humans get turned into camera units...then again...you and Polaroid are the only ones so far that remember your human pasts. There could be more...but they could have no memories. Despite this, the human would hang out with her just like Polaroid!
#novastorm223#haxorus imp#hax speaks#cosmica galaxy#cosmica-galaxy#skibidi tag#skibidi toilet mimic#skibidi mimic#polaroid OC
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Ballad of Johnny Kidd
My name is Johnny Kidd. I’m a bad, bad man. I’m cold, on the verge of death, stumbling through a fierce winter storm somewhere just North of Bangor, Maine, a bullet lodged in my thigh. I was following an old logging road out of the deep woods. I got lost, trailing spurts of blood like a breadcrumb trail. I see it; a tiny flicker of light through the lashing white snow. The cabin. I pound on the door.
“Mister! Please, it’s so cold out here! Please, let me in! I’ll…I’ll freeze to death!”
An old man unlatches the door; I practically fall into the cabin, legs giving out, trembling. He’s walking towards the fire, doesn’t offer to help me up. Doesn’t even look at me. I think shit, I’m bleeding all over his floor, but the bleeding has stopped.
“Strip to your birthday suit, right there in the mudroom. Hang it up. It’ll dry. Don’t be bashful, kid. I won’t peek. Got a pair of long johns hanging on the coat rack. Once you put them on, grab the folded blanket, wrap yourself in it tight,” he says.
I follow his directions.
“You’re a real kind person, mister. Thank you,” I said, ambling towards a chair by the fire.
“Kindness has nothing to do with it. Just don’t want to see anyone else freeze to death on this mountain path. Hard times claim enough good folk around these parts. Don’t need to lose anyone else,” he said, staring into the crackling flames.
Goodness has nothing to do with it, I think. I’m naked under the blanket, ‘cept for a sawnoff shotgun strapped to my back.
“I really owe you my life, sir. I can already feel my bones warming. Blood thawing out.”
“Any frostbite?” the old man asks. I looked down. I was already toasty. Fingers and toes looked fine.
“I don’t think so, sir.”
“Good, good. Sit. Warm yourself by the fire. Don’t have a bed in this shack, but you can sleep in the chair. Hopefully the storm will be finished by morning.”
I linger, not sitting. I’m scoping out the cabin, ready to pull the loaded gun from my back and spatter this oltimer’s brains on the wall. He doesn’t have much. It’s a bare wood cabin with cedar planks and a woodstove with rusted pots and castiron pants.
“I do appreciate it, sir. Truly. It’s a whitewash out there. Any longer, the snow would have swallowed me completely. My company wouldn’t have found me until the spring thaw.”
The old man doesn’t break eyecontact with the fire. He chuckles.
“Company. You mean your gang of bank robbers?”
My hand moves to the gun. I’m about ready to end this foolishness.
“Sir, what do you mean? I work cutting trees.”
The old man’s voice drips with contempt.
“No you don’t. You’re a much better shot than you are a liar. You’re Johnny Kidd.”
I drop the blanket, naked. I draw the gun from my back. The Old Man doesn’t flinch.
“Damn. Nothin’ gets past you, old man. Move and this room gets a new coat of paint. Say, you haven’t even looked at me yet. Am I that famous? You can tell who I am just from my voice?”
“I know you, Kidd.” the old man says.
“I guess so. Have we met?”
“I’ve seen the newspaper clippings. A sheriff came by the cabin a few days ago, said your gang might be around. Wanted by the federal government, and every bumbling, whiskey drunk county sheriff this side of the Mason-Dixon line. Look. I know you got a shotgun pointed at my cranium, to your back, and I know you’ve been thinking about shooting me in the head since you first came into this cabin. But I ain’t no lawman, and I ain’t trying to collect the bounty on you…even if I could finally retire down to Rio with your blood money,” the old man says, a soliquiy into the fire.
My hand lingers over the trigger. But instead, I speak.
“Huh. Well, you marked me pretty good, oldtimer. Most people start cowering, throwing their watches and jewlery at me when they figure out who I am.”
For the first time, the old man turns to face me. He’s normal, saggy skin and a long gray beard.
“Kidd, when you first came in here, you said I was a kind person. I ain’t kind. I could plead, sure. I could beg, say I just saved your life. But that don’t matter. You’re not the type of person that responds well to kindness, are you?”
Ha. Kindness, I think. Fuck kindness.
“No, I reckon not. I ain’t apt to “kind” my way out of a shootout. Kindness ain’t ever done nothing for me. Pops was kind before he was fileted in his sleep by a drunkard he let stay in the hayloft.”
“That’s why I’m here. You ain’t gonna respond to charity, kindness, or the yolk of human compassion, are you, kid?”
His tone drops into a command.
“Look into the fire.”
I try to pull the trigger, but my finger locks. I start to move towards the fire, like I’m being pulled like a boxcar on a railine. I try to fight the movement, but I can’t. I bend down and gaze into the dancing flame.
“What do you see?,” the old man asks.
“Jesus, what kind of witchcraft is--”
“Answer me. What do you see?”
I saw her. The boys and I had the bank on Main Street locked down, about to grab the bags of cash, jump in and speed away to hit the next town. She came out of the washroom, unaware we had the place held down. I shot her through the neck. She choked on her blood. I meant to shoot the wall to scare the clerk into opening the vault…the bullet ricoheted..I didn’t mean to shoot her.
“I see her. Jesus, shot her through the neck. I swear to God, I didn’t mean to--”
“Course not. Is that what you tell yourself when you’re alone at night? Is her throat, ripped open, the image burned in your eyelids?”
I collapse on the floor, holding my face in my hands. The old man stands up from his rocker for the first time.
“I’m almost sorry for you, kid. There ain’t any other way to set you straight but raw power, right? A kind sheep is still a sheep, and you’re a wolf, right, kid? You’re a predator, ain’t you? You sink your fangs and take whatever you want from those poor fieldmice cowering in fear, right?”
“Shut up,” I sputter. I gather myself, uncrumple from the floor, stagger to my feet.
“You’re talking real funny, sir, and I implore you to stop--”
The old man laughs, spittle flying.
“You ain’t gonna implore me to do nothing, kid. Like I said, I ain’t kind. But I’m just.”
He sits down.
I draw the gun, aim it at his temple.
“Ha. Just. You mean, you’re an agent of justice? What are you gunna do, old man? Tie me up and take me down to the jail? Kill me? I got a gun pointed at you, but I got a sawblade in my satchel... I’m gunna have some real fun with you.”
Old man sinks back into his rocker.
“I ain’t going to cower, kid. I’m gunna show you something. Sit. Down.”
Despite everything in my body, I sit.
“Watch the fire.”
Depsite every voice echoing in my mind, I gaze again into the fire.
“A dozen lawmen are tracking you. Been following you since you killed her. In fact, they’re closing in on your camp now. Budd’s just got pumped with lead. Big Frank’s brain is oozing out. They’re following the tracks. They’re gunna find you, kid. Rather, they’re gunna find your frozen body next to your dead horse.”
I feel the pain of freezing to death; like someone stuck my body into a pit of ice blue flame.
“Oh my god.” All I can manage. A whimper.
“God ain’t got nothing to do with it,” the old man says. “Savor it. Not a lot of men get to see how they die, Johnny. But it doesn’t have to happen like that. You got a way out, kid.”
I don’t belive him. Ain’t no way out, I’m an cornered cat and he’s a rabid dog.
“Instead of killing me, get up, take my seat by the fire. You’ll be waiting for a while. For as long as I have. Till some other poor fool gets lost in the storm. You help them, you help them thaw out, you send them away. Keep waiting by the fire. Or, you kill me. Outside these walls, it’s just ice. Ice, snow, and death,” he says.
“I’m dead either way, ain’t I? I’m dead right now, ain’t I?” The question flashes like an explosion. “Am I dead? Am I dead?”
The old man shakes his head.
“I can’t answer that for you. You got to make a choice, now. Before the fire dies. We’ve been in here for a good bit of time already.”
I look at him squarely. He’s not reacting. Just a dirty, saggy, weathered old face. My fists clench. I want to kill him. But I let the wave of hate roll over me, and I’m left with whatever is left in the wreckage. The old man gestures for me to pass. I sit in his rocker. I look at the flames, for a few moments, an hour, a day, a year. I don’t know. I don’t care to know. The old man is gone.
It’s cold. Someone is pounding on the door.
“It’s freezing out here,” someone calls from outside. “You gotta help me, Mister!”
I don’t look up.
“Come in. Door’s unlocked. Mind you don’t track in too much snow.”
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The one about a party and a stolen kiss.
Summary: In which you have a massive crush on your best friend Johnny, he gets a little drunk and a little jealous.
Words: 2,089
Genre: Fluff, my trademark.
WARNINGS: None, just pure fluff. Maybe drinking ? It’s a tiny mention but, still. Oh! The ending is kinda ambiguous so, take that into account lol.
AN: Hello! This is my second attempt at uploading a fanfic here on tumblr lol, I posted this same oneshot on AO3 a few months back and I’ve decided to bring it to tumblr too. Hope you enjoy it, leave a like or comment!.
--
The cold air blew strongly hitting my already red cheeks. A few meters away someone stumbled on a plastic red cup and it made an ugly scratchy sound that was soon swallowed by the strong bass coming from the big black speaker on the floor.
I curled in on myself on the chair I was sitting on, in an attempt to warm up a little, holding my best friend’s beer bottle to my chest, almost hugging it and stuck my free hand inside my coat’s pocket.
Johnny will have to endure endless movie nights watching the 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice over and over for dragging me out to yet another one of his friends’ parties in this cold ass weather.
My fingers are numb from the cold liquid inside the bottle and I’m pretty sure my nails will be purple by the time Johnny finally comes back and takes this wretched bottle from my hand. Why does he even like beer anyways? It tastes horribly and smells even worse.
Just as I’m scowling at the bottle and wondering just what the hell took Johnny so long, a flash of movement catches my eye and I see his head peeking above a group of people hanging around near the table filled with chips and various bottles of alcohol. Only when he was a couple steps away did I notice the paper cup covered almost entirely by his hand.
“Here” he said, holding the cup in front of my face
Quickly, I pulled my hand out of my pocket and took it from him, noticing how much bigger it looked now that I was holding it.
I looked up to look at him, “What?”
“It’s tea, I could see your teeth chattering from over there and asked Mark if I could steal some his roommate's fancy infusions”
The fluttery feeling in my chest made me smile and in a poor attempt to ignore it, I dramatically cried out to my best friend “Johnny, you life saver!” Pushing the beer to his chest.
Laughing, he quickly grabbed it brushing his knuckles against my own and sat on the empty plastic chair beside me. The flutter returned tenfold and before my thoughts wandered too far from reality, wondering if he also felt the same sensation his fingers left behind on mine from that single fleeting touch a moment ago. I raised my hand up to his face and pressed my still tingly, and very cold fingers to his cheek.
“Look, I can’t feel my fingers” I smiled teasingly.
He jumped up at the feeling “Holy shit!” He said, eyes opened wide and looking straight into yours.
You lowered your hand, laughing at his reaction. “You took your sweet time out there and I almost lost my hand to frostbite!”, I cried out. Johnny threw his head back and joined my quiet laughing.
He took a sip from the glass bottle he was now holding and with his free hand he reached out and took mine. The contrast between his big warm hand and my small frozen one brought a shiver down my spine and I happily welcomed the warmth he provided and allowed myself to enjoy the butterflies his touch awakened inside my stomach if only for a little while.
He placed the bottle on the ground next to his feet and tugged down the sleeve of his hoodie to cover his cold hand and placed it on top of mine sandwiching it.
He started rubbing his covered hand on mine, trying to warm it up “I brought you tea though” he smiled smugly. I rolled my eyes, faking annoyance.
And it was at moments like this that I found it incredibly hard to suppress my harboring feelings for him. When he was so close to me that I could count his eyelashes and his touch was warm on my skin. I felt as if though with one single look at me, he could see it written on my forehead “I HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU”
A loud rumble of laughter snapped me out of my thoughts and I squeezed Johnny’s bare hand, looking up to him and smiling a grateful smile and slipping my hand from between his. My fingers tensed for a second and I grabbed my steaming cup of tea with both hands a little too hard, the liquid almost spilling.
For a second, confusion flashed on Johnny’s eyes, always so perceptive. “Wha-”, but before he could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by a loud “JOHN!” Jaehyun was waving his hand in the air and calling him over to the beer pong table in the center of the patio.
He signaled Jaehyun to wait up and looked back at me, and I knew what he was thinking before he spoke.
"Go, I'll be fine" he didn't want to leave me alone.
"Are you sure? Mark can play instead of me"
"And have Jae direct murderous glances at me because, and I quote 'I stole his best man'? No thanks" I finished taking a sip of my tea.
He laughed "Ok, I will be quick then" he stood up and started walking to the table.
"Yeah, I'm sure you'll lose in no time!" I screamed after him. He turned around making a hurt face that made me laugh.
However, he was still not satisfied and when he reached the table he brought Taeyong closer by his shoulder whispering something to him. Taeyong's eyes fell on me and he nodded at whatever Johnny was telling him. The guys started to make teams for the beer pong match and Taeyong started to walk over to me.
The green tea warmed me up enough to be comfortable. The night progressed slowly and a thick layer of fog settled over the backyard simultaneous to the way Johnny’s tongue started to slur some of his words and he started making bigger hand gestures when he talked to his friends as he became tipsier with every sip he took from his beer and the drinking games his friends called him out to play.
Taeyong was excitedly telling me about this new fish tank he had started to put together. I was enjoying the excitement and the shine in his eyes as he talked and showed me pictures of it on his phone. I was laughing at the cute names Taeyong gave his crabs when suddenly I felt a thud on my shoulder.
Startled, I turned my head to my right and found Johnny’s head there, almost by instinct, I moved my opposite hand and patted his hair.
“You ok there?” I laughed. I knew he was not drunk, he was the tallest guy I knew and he was able to hold his alcohol very well but I still asked.
He groaned a little nodding, making me and Taeyong laugh. I turned away from him and looked at Taeyong. “I think the rounds of beer pong with Leo caught up to him a little” I smiled.
Taeyong laughed and peeked over to Johnny “Do you want some water dude?"
Johnny's cheek was squished on my shoulder but he still managed to nod.
"Ok, I'll be back"
Taeyong got up and I shouted a quick thanks to him before he walked too far. I was still looking in his direction and smiling when it happened.
The first thing I felt was a soft thud on my cheek and then something wet followed by a smack. It took me a moment and then...
"Did you just kiss me?" I was looking at Johnny with wide eyes, trying (and failing) to hide the smile that threatened to stretch over my face and the shock because ‘what the hell?!’ He was not that drunk... was he?
All he did was laugh and then "Yes". I could not believe what was happening. What was even happening?
"I didn't think you were this drunk" I said jokingly. Smiling over how dumb and sudden that peck was. But I was still searching his eyes for something to tell me what was going on inside his head.
Johnny threw his head back laughing "I'm not drunk!" And then paused before he rushed out "Well, maybe a little but you were making googly eyes at Taeyong looking all pretty with your red nose and you were ignoring me!!"
I let out a chortle "Are you kidding? It's Taeyong! Taeyong who stops on the street to help dogs cross the street without the risk of getting run over. Everyone makes googly eyes at him" I laughed. His words didn't even register fully in my brain.
He frowned at me "Stop laughing!" And that made me laugh harder and louder.
"This is so ridiculous, what are you even saying? Were you jealous or something?" And this time I stopped laughing.
He looked everywhere but at my eyes "And if I was?"
I lifted my arm to hug his shoulders and began cooing "Aww you will always be my best friend John, don't wo-" he turned his head and his face was now so close our noses almost touched.
"Just your friend?" He asked in a serious tone. My head started spinning and I didn't understand what he was asking. Like, I did but at the same time I didn't.
"What?" I asked.
"I like y-" I slapped a hand over his mouth and shut him up.
"Oh no no, you can't be saying these things drunk"
"Mmnt dnk!" He mumbled into my hand with wider eyes, the ones he made when he was annoyed. I ignored him and kept talking over the sounds he was making.
"You won't even remember this tomorrow! And then I will feel like a dumbass for getting my hopes up." I was talking without thinking and only when I stopped talking, my brain caught up with my mouth and I looked at him in horror.
His eyes were wide too, but they faded quickly and a mischievous glint replaced the surprise. He grabbed my wrist to remove the hand that was still covering his mouth so he could start talking, but I pressed it harder.
"No, you are not sober enough for this. Just forget it ok?”
Johnny glared at me, and I could tell he was fed up. He looked down gesturing to my hand, I gave him a pointed look to remind him to drop the subject. He raised his hands in innocence as if to say ‘I won’t talk about it’. So finally, I dropped my hand.
“If I still remember tomorrow, can we talk about it?”
I sighed, feeling my shoulders tense up a little annoyed, mostly at myself since I had already begun to get my hopes up. To dream, to think about what if’s and to wonder what could happen.
From the corner of my eye I could spot a figure in the distance walking in our direction, and I remembered where we were.
“Sure, if you can remember this whole conversation happened, we can talk about it”
He smiled, a little too flirty and a little too smugly, but it was just pure Johnny. I faked annoyance and pretended my heart didn’t flutter. A moment later Taeyong sat back down with us and gave Johnny a cup of water.
For a moment, I stared at my best friend, my crush. Still trying to figure out what was going on inside his head, was I really that dense to not notice he might like me as more than friends? Yes, yes I was. It wouldn’t be the first time I failed to notice someone’s feelings towards me until someone else pointed out the obvious.
I must’ve stared for too long because Johnny caught my eyes, a knowing look crossed his face and the bastard dared to wink. I stifled a laugh and turned away from him, at the boisterous screams coming from the beer pong table.
Tomorrow, I can deal with my feelings tomorrow.
~~~~~
The next morning when I woke up, I stretched my hand to grab my phone.
I opened my messaging app, quickly scanning through the unread messages from friends letting me know they arrived home safely yesterday. But I opened one chatroom, the message from about a half an hour ago.
[Text message]
From Johnny 🦕:
“Wanna have breakfast?” (11:00 am)
“I’ll buy if you promise not to shut me up with your hand over my mouth ;)” (11:03 am)
I took a sharp breath, my mouth suddenly dry.
He remembered.
END.
#nct 127#nct#johnny#johnny suh#nct johnny#nct 127 johnny#nct 127 johnny suh#johnny x y/n#johnny x reader#johnny x you#suh youngho#friends to lovers#johnny suh fanfic#nct johnny fanfic#nct 127 johnny fanfic#seo youngho fanfic#nct 127 fanfic#nct fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#love stories archive
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