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fuck-you-too-world · 2 years

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DP Crossover Idea

It's from a Pokemon fan fiction called "Legendary Popular 3 - Orange" chapter 2,this fic I a crack fic and I... Have decided to not question anything and just accept it as what my life has lead me to or I just stumbled upon it and this is my life now because... Nah, nope, not going there. I would like to keep my sanity thank you. Go ahead and check it out if you're interested but be warned, don't use common sense with that story just go with the flow.

Found it the hard way...

Anyway, I have an idea of crossover. The infinite realm is a place that's connected to many universe and world and alternate universe so they have cornered for each word/universe and even the Pokemon universe where Legendary Pokemons kind of just hang around in their corner of infinite realm.

Danny was running away from his parents - it's an AU where the reveal didn't go as well as he expect and end up with him being captured and experimented for a while before he manage to escape and goes to GZ but he's so out of it he open a portal to somewhere he has never been to - and stumble upon a lair of one and only ghost-dragon type Pokemon Giratina where he proceeds to pass out on the very confused, very awkward and very concerned but mostly confused legendary Pokemon.

Of course, Giratina not knowing what to do bring the human ghost child that passed out on them after entering their realm by teleportation with so many injury that should he fatal to human but seeing as this is a ghost how did the child got injured???

Giratina bring the child to Archeus, not the bet course of action since there's others more versatile on healing the child- actually... Ho-Oh would just revive the child, Xerneas would also just brought back the child to life seeing as this is a ghost child... Yveltal is another matter entirely. Okay, yeah, bringing the child to Archeus is probably the smartest move.

Or not.

"That child you're carrying is a halfa, a Halfa crown prince"

"... So can you help him?"

"Giratina... That child is the successor of the High King Throne. He held more power than even myself, though Mew should know some way to help seeing as she's one of the Ancients or well, a honorary one"

"I see... I can still adopt him right?"

"..."

"Only if I get to be the grandpa and you're not telling the others until we have the next meeting in a few years"

"Sure, I don't really feel like having my realm invaded by those menaces anyway"

Archeus just want the bragging rights, to have something over the others. He already has the champion, really, he can be childish sometimes for a God of such status.

Clockwork lost his ward to Giratina and Archeus and Mew and you know what? The legendary would just adopt him and then spoil him since he's the baby of their group now (until Mew two but that is far into the future thing). Danny's rough gallery that tried to find him to fight mostly got blasted off back to their lair... Literally.

Then when the time for the Champion to start their journey and let the wheel of Fate work it's course Danny was let on the world that he has only ever observe from his adoptive family's realm. Danny's aging was slowed by his status as a halfa where he ages by ghost standards and since died at age 14 he's count as a baby ghostling and the adult age for ghosts are 500 years old, Danny was 17 when he runs away still stuck in his 14 years old body.

He ws confused as fuck when he woke up all healed up and comfy but in a weirdly bright and almost holy- no, it's definitely a holy looking palace. Where the fuck did he end up in??? Please don't tell him he ends up in another gods place of something, he swears his luck is the worse. Whatever he ever did to Lady Luck?!!?

Danny was even more confused when he saw the weird creatures surrounding him that looks like the Pokemon from the Pokemon game that was released and is booming around the world- wait- Pokemon- Right, he's in infinite realm and Clockwork did said this place is connected to lots of universe so really, he shouldn't be surprised but in a normal response to this kind of thing (even if he should be used to it by now really) he proceeds to pass out again.

The champion of course would be our ever-youthful-never-aging-with-heart-too-big-and-kind-that-he-let-most-of-his-strongest-Pokemon-Go-free-also-dense-as-fuck-to-common-sense-most-of-the-time-with-such-a-strong-protagonist-aura Ash Ketchum.

Imagine two bois, one raised and have legendary Pokemons as amily while other be friends legendary Pokemons like it's a walk in the park and both with disaster/trouble magnet going on journey together.

Yeah, this fic would an amazing story or a fuckint crack fic that'll destroy your mind with... Well, you know what I mean.

Ash meeting Danny would be... Hmm... Either one hold the brain cells while they share one or they both won't have any ounce of brain cells between themselves. But seeing as Danny having all that experience and trauma and all that nasty angsty shit though I would like to think that Danny would be the one to hold the brain cells.

Danny would go 'oh, look! A child! Hm... He's younger than me, guess I got a baby brother!' (I prefer that the starting age would be at least 14 or 15 so they don't really let a literal child out on a journey out in the wild surviving without adult supervision!!) Then he goes 'wait- I'm not the youngest anymore!!' Before going 'what should I do with brother again? I only ever had a ln older sister and a kind of cousin-sister who is actuhis clone... Guess he'll just do it Hoopa style!'

That could either works out fine or end up in disaster.

The Absol Pokemons are absolutely terrified of them both with how much the two get into trouble.

Danny mostly have ghost type, psychic type, dark type and normal type Pokemon that he befriends because of his nature as Halfa but he also has other Pokemon types but he definitely distancing himself from the electric type. Being Electroduced to death and back to life and kind of half died half alive from it tend to give you some healthy fear of anything electric related stuff.

(Ooooh that would be a nice an get material with Pikachu lol, maybe got him one electric type to help with his fear - at this point it's probably a phobia anyway - and maybe support Pokemon for his ptsd and trauma and anxiety)

Also Giratina would definitely follow along in Danny's journey as one of his Pokemon (overprotective dad) and so is some of the other more protective Pokemon (mostly the one in brothers and sisters role).

To add the nails to the coffin, they found the legendary and rare Pokemon to be normal while the more normally seen and mundane Pokemon to be rare. It cause people to think they're some kind of an urban legend.

The worst (or best) part, they didn't even realize they caused an uproar and start some kind of rumours to go around with their type of normal an just goes around like nothing happened!!!

Danny : hey, did you hear that?

*in the background people shouting in confusion and denial but also in fear*

Ash : hear what?

Danny : *shrugged* it's probably nothing then

Ash : probably, so where we're going next?

Danny : guess we're going...

*they proceeds to continue their journey not knowing the chaos they caused behind them*

Giovanni : ... I should looking for a retirement house in the mountain far away from civilization and away from the walking madness in form of a two boys *fear*

#danny phantom #danny fenton #ash ketchum #dp #pokemon #dp x pokemon #crossover #reveal gone wrong #ghost king danny #he's a ghost prince really #a ghostly crown prince #danny got adopted by the legendary Pokemons and got spoiled by his nee family #Giratina held the main custody #Giratina would fight clockwork for the custody right #he will not lose #grandpa archeus #mew is... a... grandma? aunty? i have no idea I'll leave that to mew to decide #ash is a choosen champion... dunno what champion tho #both boys would be great brothers but for the sanity of my life or the continuation of the world someone reign them over #theyre too pure #that it's burning down the common sense because use thing so literally #proffesor oak is looking for a successor so he could retire early #i didn't said anything about him but you could feel his exhaustion #pokemon arceus #giratina #pikachu #a support pokemon for danny #a therapy pokemon too #maybe a joltik since they're small and cute and a spider

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squishmallow36 · 2 years

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Keeper of the Lost Prepositions - Forty-one

Word count: 2.2k

Tw: nothing major but lmk if i should add anything

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @gaslight-gaetkeep-gayboss @kamikothe1and0lny @nyxpixels @florida-fruity-frog @poppinspop @crystallinewalker @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @books-over-boys @rusted-phone-calls @when-wax-wings-melt @cotyledon-tomentosa @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125

On Ao3 or below the cut!

Fitz Pov

Before letting me in Sophie’s room, Sandor checks me for tracking devices, other than the ones he put in my clothes that Grizel did not realize were there.

She doesn’t exactly appreciate the fact that her boyfriend doesn’t trust her enough not to lose me somewhere in a field or not carry Neverseen trackers on me.

“Hey,” I say, walking into Sophie’s room and sitting on the bed across from her.

“Hey,” she replies, smiling.

“What’ve you been doing?”

“Losing my mind. You?”

“Same, not going to lie.”

“Telepath time? Or do you want to find a stupidly insane topic and waste a few hours of our lives?”

“I’ve already wasted enough time before texting you,” I answer.

“What kind of Telepathic exercises were you thinking, then?”

“The classic secret sharing one works pretty well for us. I just want to make sure I haven’t messed up our connection.”

“Don’t be silly. If it’s messed up, it’s my fault.”

No you didn’t, I’m tempted to say. But she’s so stubborn it won’t go anywhere.

“Do you want to start with three out loud? And then test if I can get in?”

I mentally cringe at the preposition and wait for her to nod before saying, “I’ll go first. I’ve been baking way too much and I’ve eaten more mallowmelt recently than I’m sure is healthy.”

“I want some of that mallowmelt,” Sophie remarks. “No judgement, right?”

“Of course.”

“Because I’ve been stuck in here for so long because someone’s paranoid, I've finally had enough time to update my Solangelo fanfic on fanfiction.net from three years ago.”

“Okay, I’m going to need some words defined.”

“Solangelo is the name for the relationship between Nico Di Angelo and Will Solace from the Riordanverse, usually used in a romantic context. There’s a bunch of books, so no plot for you. That’d take forever. Fanfic is basically when a fan of a certain piece of media doesn’t have enough for their liking or doesn’t like what happened in the canon or was bored, so they take the characters and write their own story with them. Sometimes they can be in the same setting, sometimes not so much. We call that an AU, or alternate universe.”

“Oh. Cool.”

I’m starting to love learning about human things and asking a gazillion questions.

“No judgement!”

“Can I, uh, can I read it?”

“Oh gosh, no, it’s terrible.”

“Then why did you bother updating it and what does that even mean?”

“It means adding new content, in the form of a new chapter, and I was bored. At this rate, I may end up rewriting it with ten times as much angst.”

“How would one go about writing a fanfic?”

I notice Sophie’s bright red from embarrassment, which isn’t all that unexpected.

“How I do it, at least, is I let headcanons float around in my brain for a while, which can converge into an idea, which, if it’s persistent enough, can get written down as an idea in my WIP folder, where is will stay unless I go and write it out, but I’ve got enough WIPs that it won’t be. Before you ask, headcanons are little interpretations of the characters that I think make sense with the characters. If they’re widespread through a fandom, then they can be considered fanon. For example, most, if not all, of the Percy Jackson fandom has simply disowned the movies. And WIP stands for ‘work in progress.’”

“Now I want to know who this Percy Jackson is.”

Sophie sighs. “It’s a very long story and the last time I read anything canonical, Percy and his girlfriend, Annabeth, were left in Tartarus, and I should really find out what happened between that and Solangelo becoming canon. But there’s this camp of Demigods and then there’s monsters, and titans, and lots of other things, and the more I say, the more I’m going to have to explain. Welp.”

“Do you mind if I ask what ‘canon’ is?”

“That’s the least embarrassing thing you’ve asked me to clarify yet. Canon is the official content of the world. Anything contained in the books, movies, show’s episodes, et cetera, is considered canon.”

“I don’t have any more questions to keep stalling, so I guess it’s my turn. I don’t know if this really counts because my Dad knows, but you don’t. I don’t just know entry level English. I was also taught a bit of Mandarin Chinese, Hindi, Spanish, Arabic, French, and Russian because we had no clue where you were, so my Dad just kept shoving more human languages into my brain with the hope that you’d have learned one of those while growing up. My poor seven year old brain. I’ve lost most of them, but I still remember my Russian swears.”

“Ah, yes. The most important part of a language, other than ‘Where is the bathroom?’ But how’d a seven year old learn how to swear?”

“We were searching for a long time and people kept telling me to go away the mean way. I mean, most places had basically the same reaction to me, but Russia’s so huge it stuck with me more, I guess.”

“That’s interesting. Why hasn’t this come up earlier? It seems like an easy thing to admit compared to some other things, but, yes, I’ll count it.”

Keefe’s a wanker, that’s why.

“Biana was being particularly annoying today and I accidentally switched to Spanish…”

“Oops. My turn I guess. I also used to write fics for Destiel and I definitely wasn’t involved in the bisexual!Bella Twilight fandom. And also Klaine. I miss Klaine.”

“What are these words?”

“Ship names, mostly. Destiel is the ship name of Castiel and from the show Supernatural. Never seen it. Just read that many fics. Twilight’s...a fandom. That’s all I’m going to say. Books made into movies. Klaine is the ship name of and from Glee. It’s the one of these things that is actually canonical.”

“Back to my turn.” I sigh. “Dex has successfully made me unable to unhear phrases or clauses or sentences or somethings--I don’t know the grammar well enough sorry--that end in a preposition, but he knows that, so…”

“He might know that, but does he know that you have no clue what the correct rules are?”

“No. But it’s still not the best secret I could’ve shared.”

“Fine. A pathetic secret for a pathetic secret. I hid Amy’s karaoke machine before you took me here and she hasn’t gotten it back since to my knowledge. And the world is better for it.”

“That’s not a pathetic secret, it’s a useful one. Remind me to make sure Biana’s iPod gets lost.”

‘Lost’ is obviously contained within air quotes.

“How’d she manage to get an iPod?”

“Dex is building them for everyone at this point. He built himself one when he was working on yours and now...Biana’s blasting everyone’s eardrums out. I think that was our third round, so Cognate test time?”

“Okay. If you’re ready,” Sophie replies.

Lacing our fingers together, it takes somewhere in the range of several minutes of chanting It’s me before Sophie’s mind gives me that familiar tug.

She’s thinking about a uvula.

Always with the uvulas.

Oh, hey. I didn’t see you there.

Wow. I forgot how intense your mind is.

Sorry.

It’s not your fault. I know I have to transmit super loud to get anything in there. I’m probably going to have a mild headache after this, that’s all.

Quiet down, brain, Sophie thinks. Can’t you see we have company? Behave.

I smile.

I guess we should continue sharing secrets. One time, I put green hair dye in Biana’s shampoo and blamed it on Keefe. To this day, she still believes he lied to her about it.

That’s amazing. Now I have good blackmail.

Nope. It’s part of the Cognate bond that I have to have full trust in you, and threatening to share my secrets isn’t good for that.

Okay. Fine. Try not to tell anyone this, then.

Five secrets each, which turns out to be about an hour later, it’s my turn again.

I’m running out of secrets.

Quietly, my least favorite little voice in my head tries, you could--.

NOPE.

I can feel Sophie’s confusion as more of an abstract thought than a verbal one.

Nope. Nope. Nope. That’s off limits.

What’s off limits? Sophie asks innocently.

Telling you would defeat the point, I snap.

Sophie mumbles something, and I ask, What?

Nothing!

It’s just tough for me because I can’t imagine sharing this one but at the same time we’re cognates and I have to tell you everything.

Do you want to call it good for today and do dumb friend things?

I blink, breaking eye contact, and run my hands through my hair as soon as I get them untangled from Sophie’s.

Sophie gives me Ella, but it does little to slow my racing thoughts trying to form a rudimentary pros and cons list. They don’t help the headache that started pounding at my temples a half-hour ago either.

“Just do what your gut is telling you to do,” Sophie suggests, rather unhelpfully if you ask me.

“My gut says it wants to be outside my body. So, no.”

Sophie sighs, and I think the pros and cons chart has organized itself into a clear solution.

Gathering my nonexistent courage, I force out, “I think I might be bisexual.”

Sophie stops.

“Oh. Was not expecting that. Okay. I didn’t realize Elves could be, you know. I mean, it makes sense, but it’d never occurred to me.”

“Me neither, as of like two weeks ago.”

“That’s, uh...that’s pretty recent of you there.”

I clarify, “That’s not when I started questioning. That was five days ago.”

“Do you mind me asking who your bi awakening was?”

“I’m not really ready for that much yet. But I’ll get there eventually.”

“Makes sense. Can same-sex couples be on each other’s match lists or get married?”

“Not to my knowledge. Again, I learned that not all people are straight two weeks ago, and that was my brother, so I was almost certain he’d lost his mind. And before you fixate on the conclusion that if I were to date a guy, it’d inevitably be a Bad Match, so there’s no way I’m going to do that.”

“Well, why not?” Sophie asks.

“It’d be a Bad Match,” I answer, thinking that it’s obvious.

“Not if nobody knew.”

“So I’d potentially have to lie for the rest of my life? No thank you.”

“Maybe not all of it. Maybe in a century or two, attitudes towards the Matchmaking system will be different.”

“Or I can definitely find a nice girl on one of my match lists and not have to worry.”

“So you’re telling me that you’d settle for a nice girl if she was on your Match Lists instead of going out on a limb to find the perfect person for you?”

“The matchmaking system was designed to match up people to have the strongest possible kids and take into account personal tastes, so yes.”

“That’s what it’s become. Was it not designed to make sure relatives don’t marry each other?”

She’s got me there. “How would I go about proving that I’m not related to, you know…”

I’m not quite sure how to phrase it.

“Your current hyperfixation?” Sophie suggests.

That works.

“Do some research. The US will allow marriage between third cousins. At least that’s what I remember. I don’t know why I know that. They’ll have shared two of their sixteen great-great-grandparents. Add another generation or two and it’ll be far enough to be negligible, and follow down the family trees. It’ll as least cover the worst of it. And the whole point of not marrying family is to reduce the likelihood of certain recessive genetic diseases. Like the Habsburg chin.”

Sophie shows me a picture of a guy she calls, “Charles the second of Spain.”

His chin doesn’t look healthy.

“Oh,” I manage, considering all the marriages of cousins that must’ve led to this.

“You haven’t even heard of Alabama. Don’t ask.”

“...what’s wrong with this Alabama?”

“I told you not to ask. Do you have any more worries I have to prove aren’t as justified as you think they are?”

“What if the subject of my current hyperfixation, as you called him, hates me?”

“I don’t know. Take a chance, lay out your emotions, and see what happens?”

I raise a suspicious eyebrow.

Because you did that with me.

Before I can argue, my Imparter buzzes with a message from Biana.

“Biana says that it’s time for me to eat dinner, so I’ve got to get home. Bye. I’ll see you later.”

“Please come over here as much as you want. Please. Bye. The only reason I’m letting you leave is because I know you’ll come back.”

Interrupting the death glaring contest between Sandor and Grizel, I leap away, feeling lighter than usual.

When I see Biana, she asks me, “So. What did you and Sophie talk about?”

“The fact that you just ended a sentence in a preposition,” I reply, barely suppressing a smirk. Although I’m not sure why it wanted to tug at my lips.

#kotlc #detz #dex dizznee #fitz vacker #kotlc fanfic #everybody behold the fastest character arc ever #its called i can only handle mopey fitz for so long okay #i could write an entire fucking essay on how prepositions are used as a narritive device in the context of this fic #no seriously i can read so much meaning into them #fuck you mr. kemock

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champagneandparacosm-archive · 2 years

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【Ｄｒａｂｂｌｅ】 𝕁𝕠𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 ~ ℕ𝕒𝕥𝕖: 𝘙𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘐𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘦𝘴

// @kingofselfdestruction @jvstsaywhen //me? Merging two random alternate universes into one? Pshhh… yes. All the time ❤️

“You know this guy is like insanely bad for you, right?“ Nate held a blunt between his fingers, side glancing his friend of- oh, how long had it been now? Two, three years? Nate moved to Illinois to get away from the toxicity in Wyoming that was his parents, his brother and he getting a fresh start. He dropped half of his name and all of his parents' bullshit. Changed his number, got a new life and a new perspective…. Well, the first part of that was true. Old habits strewn into your character through your upbringing died hard as they say.

Joanna sat next to him behind the diner by the dumpsters, gulping from a bottle of wine Nate had brought from his- er- ‘date’. The night shift was either crazy busy as hell or dead as an armadillo on the side of blaring hot Texas road. Tonight, she was that armadillo. Nate had been her third table in the past five hours, three more to go until she could go to the home of the ‘insanely bad guy for her’ and crash in his warm bed while he woke up and went to make a shit ton of money.

A snort followed her swig, eyes rolling as he passed off the blunt to her. “Yeah, because you’re like the greatest person to give relationship advice- mister sleeping with a married woman while her husband is out defending our nation” a teasing smirk, the woman really unable to pass judgement. She’d done shitty things in her life too. Sleeping with a married woman is not the worst thing. He laughed while she took in a drag, sucking in the smoke and letting it dissolve her boredom.

“Yeah, yeah, save the lecture, sister Joanna.” Cleared his throat, picking at the rubber of his converse beginning to come from his shoe. He had trouble moving on, getting new things and accepting change. For other people it was so easy to triumph at their new beginnings, yet Nate always felt stuck.

“You’re right though… I guess,” she sighed, gaze faltering as she focused her stare on the dumpster she had once accidentally set on fire. She was young, angry at her best friend for sleeping with some bitch at college while she was clearly in love with him. Her and a coworker had balled up a shit ton of toilet paper onto a fork and slathered it in hand sanitizer. The fire from the stove lit their little torch, staring at it while it burned. Eventually a customer came and they stamped it out, not catching the burning ashes and… well, the fire department came. She wasn’t fired, obviously, but it was now a funny story to tell.

“It’s just-“ she couldn’t even find the right words to describe eli. He just… was Eli. “He’s just- he puts up with my bullshit, ya know? We’re both equally fucked up, but he- he makes me feel like I could be a better person. We’re two halves of a fucked up and delusional whole… and I don’t think I’m meant to be with anyone else. We, oddly, complete each other.” Maybe she was the delusional one for thinking someone so well off would want her. Or maybe she was delusional for thinking that someone as mental unstable could be right for her. Either way, she believed this was her happy ending. Eli was her everything. They just clicked. Like two thin legos out together, near fucking impossible to part once connected.

“I get it, trust me…” Nate replied, sounding equally confused about how he landed such a… relationship? He couldn’t even call it that. It was fucking. No more. No less. He was a booty call for when her husband was away. (And sometimes when he was home). “Her and I, I know it has an expiration date… but I keep like, ignoring the side of the carton where it tells me when the milks gonna spoil. Just… waiting until the taste turns sour.” He blew out hot air, turning to vapor in the chilly autumn air. His neck rolled, releasing tension. Joanna kept pestering him about mediating and yoga, saying it would help with the neck and back pain but- could you really see Nate doing any of that shit? Not likely.

They shared a glance, a moment of silence, and then they both cracked up at their moody brooding and teenage drama. God, they were both pathetic. Two chums sitting outside a shitty diner in the middle of the night bitching about their relationship issues. It was fate they found each other, an unlikely pair for sure, but inseparable at heart.

“Jeez, we need therapy,” the waitress mused, the door opening as the cook came out to release trash into the dumpster. She offered him the blunt and he took a few puffs before heading back inside. It wasn’t her favorite cook, but Joanna managed to get along with anybody.

“We are our therapy,” Nate countered, “how utterly devastating.”

A smile lit both of their faces, sitting in the comfortable silence of the evening until a car pulled in and Joanna stood. She took one last inhale of the blunt, a sip of wine and turned to head inside. Before doing so, she looked over her shoulder, fingers tapping the heavy door lightly. “Stick around? Pies on me tonight,” Nate looked like he shouldn’t be alone. Often he appeared so, but tonight especially. Thoughts were dangerous things and hard to be rid of when they held such vicious negativity. She didn’t want him to go through that alone.

To her appeasement, he nodded, brushing off his jeans as he stood, stubbing out the blunt, a roach at this point. “You bet, Joanna banana,” he gruffed, flicking her a smile. She crinkled her nose at the nickname. Nate: the only person who got away with calling her such a bizarre and juvenile name. And she, the only one who got away with calling him,

“Cool, Nathaniel.”

#drabbles: joanna #drabbles: nate

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phantomrose96 · 3 years

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Buds After the Frost

This was supposed to be a short warm-up writing exercise yesterday and then it got... longer. Enjoy!!

...

The doors opened for Maddie Fenton with a pneumatic hiss. Pressurized nitrogen released, splitting open the vacuum seal on the door as its twin halves slid apart, slotting into the wall-mounted sleeves. The nitrogen misted out, cold and dry, air currents catching in swirls around Maddie Fenton’s lab coat. Her feet thocked against hollow metal, amplified by the coldness and the vastness of the containment room beyond.

She paused short of the specimen’s cell, mindful attention drawn to the panel of controls nested rightmost against the wall. The monitor read out stats, tracked metrics of the specimen’s heartrate and blood oxygenation and blood pressure. Dials beneath the screens offered her means of interaction, manipulating the cage’s environment without needing to tamper with it by hand. She ignored these, as she had been ignoring them the entire time, and paid mind only to the single switch which would seal shut the doors behind her.

She pressed it. Another pneumatic hiss followed, locking out the world behind her. Her breath curled, cold. She and the specimen were alone.

“No coffee this morning?” he asked.

Maddie sat down at the control panel, elbow leaning against the dashboard for support. She turned to the cage. “No. One of the interns broke the pot last night. New one should be delivered today.”

Phantom let out a huff of air. “You mean in this whole gigantic mega-hyper-futuristic government lab, there’s nothing that can stand in as a coffee pot?”

“I wouldn’t stay employed long if I tried using equipment to brew coffee.”

“Use one of the big ectoplasm beakers. Ectoplasm washes out with soap and water. Just suds it up and throw it in the coffee maker. I’m an expert about these things.”

“It’s more about protocol.”

Phantom waved her off. “’Protocol.’ Bureaucracy is standing between you and a delicious cup of ectoplasmic coffee, Dr. Fenton.”

Maddie looked forward now, taking him in. He’d hovered to the front of the cell, translucent reinforced glass separating him from the rest of the lab. Green eyes shined above a cheeky smile, a dusting of loose white hairs falling over his eyes, the rest of his bangs swept slightly to the side. His tailed flickered, his aura pulsed, his vital readings blipped out steady, normal, healthy.

“Phantom?”

“Yeah?”

Maddie paused.

“Why are you still here?”

The ghost boy let out a small guffaw. He motioned his arms around him, hands waving. “I dunno. Maybe the big ghost-proof box I’m in has something to do with it?”

“The shield is down, Phantom,” Maddie answered quietly. She set her eyes to Phantom, investigating. “…I put it down last night. It’s down now. You knew this.”

Phantom took just a moment too long to react, eyebrows arching up. “Oh, huh! Nope I didn’t notice. I mean it’s not like I’m constantly throwing myself at the barrier to electrocute myself so no I just didn’t try getting past it last night so I didn’t notice.”

“Phantom,” Maddie said again, voice measured, words stern. “You saw me crank down the dial that controls the shield.”

“Well I don’t know what all those buttons and dials do.”

“Yes you do. You’ve been observing me since day 1. You knew.”

Phantom kicked back in the air, floating a fraction back and higher. “Well maybe I thought it was a trap, I dunno. Or maybe I just like to get in your head, you know? What unpredictable thing will Phantom do next! Gotta write another 200 equations about ghost theory to figure that one out, Dr. Fenton.”

“Phantom.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you not want to leave?”

“Oh I wanna leave.”

“Then why aren’t you?”

“We’re having a conversation. That’d be rude.”

“Will you leave as soon as I exit the room?”

“Who knows?”

“Phantom.”

“Yeah?”

Maddie stood. She left her chair and the control panel behind. She walked up to the specimen cage instead. It was cubic, a skeleton of metal bar ribbings with a metal mesh that plastered the glass sides like a membrane. The top anchored to the ceiling, the bottom—raised by about a foot—anchored to a pedestal on the floor. Maddie stared through the mesh into Phantom’s eyes.

“Is there anyone who realizes you’re missing?” she asked.

Phantom chewed on the question. “Nah. Well um, trick question, actually. Probably not. Assuming I do this right, then no one has even realized I’m gone.”

“Do what ‘right’?”

“You know that thing about Clockwork I explained?”

“You said he’s the ghost that controls time and reality.”

“Yeah. SUPER powerful.”

“And you said you …were from one of those other realities.”

Phantom nodded. “Maybe I touched some things in Clockwork’s lair I wasn’t actually allowed to touch. Jury’s still out on whether I’m in trouble for that or not. I’ve been a little too ‘stuck in this reality’ to know if Clockwork is pissed. But yeah, I got um, bopped into your reality instead of mine. So technically my reality is lacking me right now, and yeah there’s people there who’d know I’m missing.”

Phantom flipped upside-down, as though laying on his back. He rested his palms beneath his head, elbows out, suspended in an invisible hammock, head tilted far back so that he still stared at Maddie. “Especially since it’s been, what, a month that I’ve been gone?”

“2 weeks.”

“What? No way. I’ve been here absolutely forever it has to have been at least a month.”

“This is day 14 of your observation, Phantom.”

Phantom blew a strand of hair out of his face. “Anyway. Two weeks is still long enough to have a search party out on my butt. But whether or not that’s happened is up to – it’s kind of a Schrodinger thing. Because here’s my strategy. Assuming Clockwork hasn’t banned me from reality-hopping forever, I can just get him to send me back to my own reality at the precise moment in time I vanished. And then bam, no one ever knows I was gone. And it makes no difference whether I do that today, or next week, or next month. So assuming you eventually let me go, then I’m all set there.”

“You say that almost like you don’t care when it happens.”

“I dunno, more like I’m just not losing sleep over it. It’s not like I have a say in the matter. You do. I don’t.”

“Is the time you spend here just meaningless, to you?”

“I wouldn’t say meaningless. I’m still aging goddammit.”

“You’re a ghost.”

“I’m complex.” Phantom flipped right-side-up again. “If I start growing facial hair, send me back. I’m gonna have some awkward questions to answer if I show up again with a ghost beard suddenly.”

“…And what if I never send you back?” Maddie asked, careful with her words. “How does your plan work if you stay here forever? If I destroy you first?”

“Um. …It doesn’t, I guess.” Phantom set a hand to his chin, thinking. “Yeah um, please don’t do that. I don’t wanna worry my whole family like that.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“What part?”

“That you have a family.”

“I mean. I think that came up in Interrogation Session #3. Consult your notes.”

“I just have a hard time believing you.”

“Because I’m a ghost?”

“Yes.”

“I’m a complex ghost.”

“I know. You keep saying that.”

“It’s true.”

Silence filtered in between them.

“…What is your family like, Phantom?”

Phantom stiffened a fraction, his eyes finding Maddie’s and shifting away. “Oh, you know, family.”

“Do they exist here too?”

“Huh?”

“You’re from another reality, at least you’re claiming you are.”

“I gotta be. The me from this reality died 6 months ago, didn’t he?”

“The you from most realities is dead, Phantom. You’re a ghost.”

“A complex ghost.”

“The you from this reality was destroyed 6 months ago.”

“Which you validated with your own sciencey equipment, right? You said so! So you know I’m not lying. Unless you think I recombobulated myself from being a protoplasmic smear on the sidewalk.” Phantom caught himself, registering the flinch in Maddie’s body. He deflated a bit, eyes averted. “S-sorry. Inconsiderate phrasing.”

“Why?” Maddie asked, tone flat, blunt.

Phantom’s eyes shifted back. “Um. Just. You know. That accident was. There were um, you know—”

“Human causalities.”

Phantom squirmed. “We don’t have to talk about that, you know? No one wants to talk about that. Okay as a ghost I guess ‘talking about how I died’ is sort of a bit more normal, but this is weird yeah, ‘talking about how an alternate-me died permanently’? That’s morbid. No one wants to talk about that.”

“Okay then. You can go back to answering my previous question.”

“Um. I forget.”

“Does your family exist in this reality?”

“Um, well who really knows, you know? I had like a grand total of 20 minutes of freedom in this reality before you captured me, so, don’t ask me like I’m any kind of expert about your reality. What’s it matter?”

“I want to know if there’s anyone in this reality who’s mourning you.”

Phantom’s face schismed with surprise. His front dropped, and the first look of genuine emotion sank into his glowing eyes. “Woah… That’s um, weirdly nice, of you, I guess. Why do you… want to know?”

Maddie said nothing.

“I. Um. I think the answer is no? So don’t um. Worry about that. If you were worried? Which is weird. I’m the enemy, aren’t I? Evil spooky ghost to be studied?”

“I’m not so sure what you are…” Maddie answered. “I heard you got destroyed trying to save them.”

“The um… the human casualties?”

“Yes.”

“I said we don’t have to talk about that.”

“Phantom.”

“What?”

“Do you know who they were?”

“The… casualties?”

“Yes.”

“Come on we’re on a different topic now.”

“Do you know who they were?”

“I don’t—how’m I supposed to know? I don’t know how I died here, you know? You think I’ve got some kind of like… parallel-universe death vision?”

“So you don’t know?”

“N-no.”

“I have a different question, then.”

“Okay, good, because I haven’t been liking these previous ones.”

“Are you staying just to keep me company?”

Phantom faltered. He looked left, then right, hand scratching at his chin. “I’m staying because I’m in a ghost-proof box.”

“It’s not ghost-proof anymore. The shields are down.”

“I feel like you’re circling around some accusation I’m not smart enough to follow. This feels like entrapment.”

“Then I’ll be more direct.”

“Oh no there is an accusation.”

“I think you do know how you were destroyed in this universe, Phantom.” Maddie took a step forward, and she let her left hand touch the glass, eyes focused on her fingers. “I think you know what happened at the Nasty Burger.”

“That’s—um—the human food… consumption… location… that the local human adolescents meet at, yes?”

Maddie looked up, and she locked Phantom with her stare. He squirmed, and he relented.

“I um…” he continued. “I—yeah—yeah, okay? I know about the Nasty Burger accident. It was supposed to happen to me too in my reality but I—Clockwork—stopped it from happening in my reality.” Phantom glanced left, right, as if staring beyond the confines of his cage. “When I first got knocked into this reality, I went to go find the Fenton portal so I could try to refind Clockwork and fix this and… Well it wasn’t there. And I tried to find some people I know and… I checked out the library in case the Fentons just lived somewhere else and. I um. I found the articles.” His eyes focused on hers again. “They all say you were the only survivor, yeah…?”

“I was sick, that day. It was just a cold. My husband Jack went without me.”

“I’m sorry…”

“It took my daughter and my son too.”

“I’m so sorry…”

“And it destroyed you.”

Phantom opened his mouth, but no words followed.

Maddie looked up.

“You knew this. You’ve known this ever since I captured you.” Maddie let her hand slide away from the glass. “Did you let me capture you?”

“Why would I let you capture me?”

“Because you feel sorry for me.”

Phantom’s eyes flickered about, unwilling to meet hers. “…Nah. Nah. I don’t—come on ‘sorry’? I’m a ghost you know? Bane of humanity! We’re enemies. You were just too skilled a hunter and you captured me.”

“And yet you won’t leave.”

Phantom lapsed silent.

“I um… I wasn’t happy to read about—to know the, the thing at the Nasty Burger happened here, okay? That’s something that I kinda didn’t want to believe existed in any reality anymore, but I guess… And if you were still alive. I was… maybe just kind of happy to see you? That you were okay. And still hunting. That was kind of, like a small relief.” Phantom glanced away, back again. “I wasn’t evil, you know. In my reality or this one. I care about what happened to the Fentons…”

“You let me capture you. …And you did it because you thought it would be a nice thing for you to do for me.”

“I Just—I thought maybe, um… I mean when you phrase it like that. I mean what else could cheer up renowned ghost hunter Maddie Fenton quite like a ghost subject to study? Me, especially? The ghost boy or public enemy #1 or whatever. I’m fun, aren’t I?”

Silently, Maddie pushed away from Phantom’s cage. She moved to the control panel, stiff movements and numb fingers. She entered the release code into the console, and unslung the key from her neck to twist into the override, and she threw down each successive lever in the row of four lining the top of the mechanisms.

The scrape of glass sliding away sounded behind her. All four walls of Phantom’s enclosure dropped away, metal mesh sliding away piece-meal. Phantom stared at her, blinking, floating in place.

“You’re free to go, Phantom.”

“I—uh—well hang on, I don’t think the Guys In White would be too happy about that. You can’t just let me—”

“Go, Phantom.”

“They could like, fire you.”

“I don’t care about this job.”

“I—come on, you still wanna study me, don’t you? Chat with me? If you feel bad maybe just get me a couch and some video games for my cage then I’ll be—”

“Phantom.”

“What?”

“Go home to your family.”

The half-hearted smile dropped from Phantom’s face.

“Come on. You can’t just evict me on such short notice. I’m not ready for Clockwork to kick my ass so soon.”

“Go home.”

“I’m not in any rush! I like talking to you. Don’t you—don’t you like talking to me too? In like a scientific way?”

Maddie lowered herself into the chair by the control panel. She leaned forward, arms pooled in her lap, eyes to the floor. “You have a family to get back to, Phantom.”

“It’s—there’s time travel shenanigans! Like I said they don’t even know I’m gone.”

“Every single day, Phantom,” Maddie looked up, eyes stern, “…I wish every single day that my own family would just come back home. I won’t do the same to you. I won’t do the same to your family.”

Phantom said nothing. A somber acceptance sunk into his eyes.

“They’re… alive, you know. In my dimension.”

Maddie dropped her head, and she blinked away the wetness in her eyes.

“I actually… in my dimension I’m kind of closer to the Fentons than I think the, the Phantom in this dimension was. It’s… complex.”

Maddie said nothing. Silence built between them.

“Jazz is um… Jazz is applying for colleges, y-you know. She got in early-acceptance to Yale but um, we all—they all—visited Columbia last month and I think that’s what she wants the most. I can see Jazz in New York City. I think she’d rock it.”

Maddie blinked again. Tears plicked into her lap.

“…Should I stop?”

“Jack… Tell me about Jack.”

“Oh. Yeah he um… big and goofy as ever. He’s got some kind of eight-armed-octogun he’s working on. I know because I was his target practice, involuntarily by the way. He keeps trying to merge “Fenton” and “octopus” together with mixed results. We—Mo-addie—you… are still trying to talk him out of ‘Fentoctopus’.”

Maddie’s ribcage shuddered, a repressed sob, a repressed laugh.

“And Danny?”

“Danny… um… Danny is...” Phantom’s shoulders fell a little bit. He looked away, and then back at Maddie. “He loves you. I know that.”

Maddie blinked, and blinked again, and her eyes wouldn’t clear.

“And are they happy?”

“They’re happy.”

“Am I happy…?”

“You’re…” Phantom’s tail bounced. “You’re happy, I think. I like to think so. I think you’re very happy. You have a great family.”

Maddie nodded.

“Now go.”

“But I still—”

Maddie reached forward, and she grabbed the ecto-gun propped against the control panel. She lifted it into her shoulder, and flicked the safety, and the charge built along the rising whine.

“Go.”

Phantom balked. He blinked. He kicked away from his wall-less cage. “Not forever. I’ll be back. You won’t be alone here forever.”

He was gone.

And Maddie was alone again.

…

Clockwork surveyed the boy in front of him whose head was bowed nearly to the floor, white bangs trailing along cobblestone, hands clasped, apologies repeated, begging case made.

Clockwork ran a hand along his beard, which unfurled, drew back, undid itself with the shifting of his form to a simple child.

“So let’s see. You have the audacity to break my rules andbeg me to meddle on your behalf in the time stream, all in the same breath? Apologies don’t usually come with additional requests for favors.”

“I know,” Danny’s head dipped lower. “You can punish me however you want for touching the restricted timelines but you have to help it, or let me help this one timeline. Please, please just send me back to the Nasty Burger incident so I can save it.”

“It’s already been saved.”

Danny faltered. He looked up.

“You died at the Nasty Burger incident that night,” Clockwork elaborated, form shifting older. “There is no you to ruin that future. That timeline is safe. It’s a very lucky timeline.”

Danny blinked. “N-no. No that’s not what I mean. Save it like you saved my timeline.”

“That did happen. You’re describing your own timeline.”

“I mean do it to THAT one.”

“You are misunderstanding timelines.”

Danny lapsed silent. Worry bled into his eyes, and Clockwork sighed.

“There is no undoing timelines, Danny. There is only forking them by meddling in the stream. All futures and pasts you witness exist, and do exist, and continue to exist,” Clockwork paused, “with the exception of realities I needed to cull, to prevent utter catastrophe.” His gaze fixed on Danny. “The futures that your evil self destroyed, I did have to cull. And culling a reality is not to be done lightly.”

Clockwork motioned with his staff. “There were a handful of surviving realities that I was able to save. That room you meddled in without my permission—they contain the realities off the main track where, for one reason or another, something else succeeded at destroying your future self. …Your own deaths, in fact. In every one of those realities, Danny, you are dead.”

“I don’t…” Danny shook his head. “So then just tell me how to save that one I was in, okay?”

“Oh, that’s easy.”

“How?”

“You don’t.”

Danny said nothing. Clockwork shifted young.

“You can let it live on in that room, or you could ask me to cull it, Danny. You could ask me to cull every reality in that room, so that the main branch, the one you’re from, is the only reality in existence. So you never have to worry about any existence where your family is unhappy. And it will be that way until you, or I, or someone else, meddles with the timestreams again, and more splits occur.”

Still, Danny said nothing. Clockwork continued.

“Sometimes, a mass culling of realities is healthy for the tree of time, like pruning a plant down to its stalk to survive an unforgiving winter, or a terrible disease. But I did that, just recently, to save all of time from the blight of your future self. It would feel cruel to snip off the first buds that have come after the frost.”

Danny lowered himself to the floor.

“Okay…”

“Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay. Just. I have a different question then.” He looked up, a young devastation wet in his eyes. “Can I still go back and visit that reality, sometimes?”

“No. I cannot give you permission to do that.”

“Please!”

Clockwork spun his staff. A portal swirled into being in the space between him and Danny. Washes of color formed patterns, shapes, objects, images. Like a mirror, it reflected Clockwork’s lair beyond its shimmering surface.

“This is a portal back into your own reality. It is set to the location and the time that you vanished. Go there, and leave through the Fenton portal, and nothing will be amiss.”

“No. No no I won’t. Clockwork you have to let me—”

“I am doing you a favor, Danny, getting you home after you caused more trouble. Do not make further demands of me.” Clockwork curled forward, old, sallow skin sagging, and he turned his back to Danny.

“You have to give me permission—”

“I am the only one who has permission to meddle in realities, Danny. This is an absolute.” Clockwork glanced over his shoulder. “And because this is an absolute, I have no reason to have a lock on the room housing those budding other realities.”

Danny blinked.

“I wonder if anyone might break my rules anyway. I wonder if anyone might be nosy, and enter that room anyway, and water the plants in that greenhouse without my permission.” Clockwork stared forward again.

“Clockwork…”

“Luckily I am the master of all time. I would be able to see this coming. And maybe plan for it. If ever such a person would come into my lair, and meddle in my timelines, and try to spread a bit of his own kindness to the realities he couldn’t quite save, I would be fully prepared to stop him.” Clockwork spoke into the green abyss beyond him. “Unless, maybe, I were to accidentally have my back turned.”

Silence trailed after Clockwork’s words. He kept his back to Danny, staring into the abyss of swirling green ether beyond.

“…Thank you,” Danny answered, quietly. “I’ll be back.”

“I imagine you will. Those realities may get lonely without you.”

When Clockwork glanced back over his shoulder, both Danny and the portal were gone.

#Danny Phantom #dp #dp fanfiction #me: -writes any kind of interaction between Maddie and Phantom where Maddie has captured Phantom-#me: 'haha sick Phantom of Truth reference'#ANYWAY i got really attached to a terrible what-if #please enjoy

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forestlingincorporated · 3 years

Text

“A Good Soldier”

I wanna think about Jason’s memorial.

First of all, Jason’s memorial first appears in Frank Miller’s 1986 Dark Knight #2 - The Dark Knight Triumphant. So, it’s actually one of those instances where apocrypha retroactively enters canon - Jason’s memorial predates Jason’s death in 1988.

This memorial, interestingly, is shown not to have an epitaph at all, and we’ll off and on see versions of the memorial that continue not to have a plaque.

However, the phrase “a good soldier” still comes from The Dark Knight Returns series.

I think this is important to consider, because this Bruce Wayne and New Earth’s Bruce Wayne were not the same people. Miller’s 1986 series doesn’t just predate Jason’s death, it predates Jason’s life - Jason Todd as we know him today was not revamped until 1987. Miller’s Dark Knight’s Jason Todd is an alternate universe version of pre-crisis Jason Todd.

So I went looking for the first instance of Jason’s memorial in New Earth.

(Side bar, this panel from Batman 432 of Bruce looking at Jason’s photo in his pocket, I’m gonna cry)

There’s no sign of Jason’s memorial in Batman 436 when Dick goes to visit the cave. What we do see is that Bruce has removed every memento of the last two years with Jason.

I find it interesting that Dick goes to Bruce’s room, but not Jason’s. We don’t get to see what Bruce has done with Jason’s bedroom during this stage in his grief. If I were to assume, I would guess it was locked, but I find it a weird choice not to demonstrate that. Now, there is a case in A Lonely Place of Dying...

But this is pretty clearly Dick’s uniform, so there’s still no indication that there’s a memorial in the Batcave.

Then we suddenly see this case in the background during the Penguin Affair, Batman 449.

Now, we don’t know for sure this is Jason’s memorial. It seems really odd that we wouldn’t get a scene of Bruce putting the suit up, or even the other characters reacting to it. This could very well be Dick’s suit in the regular suit lineup, there is no plaque and we can’t tell for sure if it’s a stand-alone case or one of many without seeing its left side, but it could also be the first depiction of the memorial.

The monument is for sure installed by Batman 451 in May of 1990. It is a stand alone case and it’s obvious from the dialog that it’s Jason’s. This is, to my knowledge, the OFFICIAL first depiction of Jason’s memorial in New Earth.

But there’s still no plaque.

So where’s the first appearance of the plaque?

Rite of Passage immediately opens on it, a nice big close up of In Memory of Jason Todd - Robin - A Good Soldier.

The memorial plays a big part in Tim’s arc. It’s a heavy reminder why he’s there, what he has to live up to, and what he has to surpass. Jason wasn’t Tim’s brother at this point, he’s a stranger, an idol, a hero... a good soldier in Batman’s crusade, fallen in battle.

I - oh?

It’s gone. Oh - ?

It’s back.

It’s weird? Because the epitaph is almost entirely for Tim’s benefit. It’s a symbol for Tim, almost what Tim would have imagined it would say, rather than what Bruce would write.

And the comics Do Not show us Bruce putting up the monument - which you would think they would have at some point, given the number of times the thing’s been smashed.

We, the audience, are left wondering when exactly Bruce set up the memorial, why he set up the memorial, why he wrote the plaque the way he did, because none of this is shown to us. It’s this weird set piece that just got stuck in there one day and created this strange void in the narrative - how we got from Bruce unable to bear the sight of Jason’s trophies to erecting an extremely morbid monument to him.

I can think of three potential triggers:

Lady Clayface taking Jason’s form

Bruce accidentally injuring Lonnie Machin

And Bruce failing to save this random civilian child.

But that’s just me trying to retroactively make sense of it. I don’t even know what to do with “a good soldier.” Because this IS NOT Miller’s Bruce, and NOT Miller’s Jason.

Jason isn’t a good soldier. He’s a terrible soldier. He was a good son. Bruce’s youngest child. His baby.

I can maybe twist it into Bruce trying to distance himself emotionally from the whole thing, but... it just doesn’t... work. What headspace was Bruce in when he chose that? Was he punishing himself? Was he trying to honor Jason? Was he trying to make peace with it? How does “a good soldier” fit into his mental narrative of events almost a year after Jason died? Jason died in APRIL. We see the memorial for the first time not long before Tim’s mother dies, and her funeral is on CHRISTMAS EVE.

I am out of thoughts on the matter. But I felt like sharing.

#Jason Todd #jason todd's death #jason todd's memorial #bruce wayne #DC comics

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bowtiesandflutes · 3 years

Text

How You Met

First Doctor

You were a Thal he had met on the group's first trip to Skaro. You noticed the tension in the group and tried to ease it, talking to the Doctor who called you a 'silly girl' but you never took offense. You knew he was rough around the edges, but he did care about Susan, although he had shown it in the worst of ways. You helped them escape Skaro and left him with parting words that stuck with him centuries later.

Second Doctor

You were the wife of Ramón Salamander and met the Doctor when he impersonated him, but you could see through it immediately. "We need to warn him!" Victoria whispered to Jamie who nodded in agreement, grinning when he saw you appear in the doorway. He knew they had to warn the Doctor, but he would enjoy his reaction.

"Oh Ramón, you have finally returned!" You walked towards the man you believed was your husband, kissing him passionately. He froze in the beginning, awkwardly returning the kiss. "What's wrong, my love? Are you unwell? I told you not to overdo it."

"I'm fine." He cleared his throat, "You worry too much."

You playfully rolled your eyes and hugged him. "I am your wife it is my job to worry about you." You pulled his hand with a smirk, "He needs rest, gentlemen. You can continue this meeting in the morning."

"Yes, Mrs Salamander."

The Doctor quickly figured out where you were leading him and looked around for a quick exit, or a distraction. You took him to the bedroom and closed the door, locking it with a smirk.

"There. Now no one can disturb us." You approached him, taking off your dress which caused panic to flash in his eyes, breaking character briefly.

"Oh Ramón, I have missed you!" You kissed him and when he pulled away minutes later you smirked, listening to him stammer, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"You are not my Ramón." You interrupted.

"N-No."

"Where is he?" You asked.

"O-On business. While I-I was over there, he was here. Then I heard he was leaving so I came here. Believe me, this was not my idea." He said.

You nodded, stepping toward him. "Alright. I'll keep your secret." You said.

The Doctor thanked you and you tugged at the collar of his jacket. "My pleasure."

His eyes widened when you kissed him, but he didn't pull away, though he took a few moments to respond. His hesitance and uncertainty faded away and soon he was kissing you with more passion than you had ever known.

Perhaps Ramón being away for a few days wouldn't be so bad after all.

Third Doctor

You were a nurse at the hospital and were the first face he saw when he woke up. You helped him when a group of men tried to kidnap him from the hospital and when he found he was stranded on Earth, he would visit you and invite you along with him on his adventures and watch him work in the lab.

Fourth Doctor

You were the Brigadier's secretary and you had spoken to the Doctor many times during his third incarnation before passing him through to Alistair. Your job became muddled with his adventures and you became his companion and left to travel with him until he had to go back to Gallifrey.

Fifth Doctor

You were a companion in his eleventh incarnation and used a Vortex Manipulator to travel back to his previous selves and got stuck for a year, the Doctor is the one to fix it. Your teasing was irritating at the beginning as you refused to tell him your real name. But over time, your teasing becomes flirtatious comments and Teegan is always trying to guess what your relationship to the Doctor is in the future, and even when she guessed correctly, you still didn't confirm it. But the Doctor knew and when the Vortex Manipulator is fixed, he himself knows what your relationship is and kisses you goodbye, telling you he can't wait to meet you.

Sixth Doctor

You traveled with him during his fifth incarnation.

Seventh Doctor

You were a friend of Ace who (like Ace) could handle yourself in dangerous situations and you both got invited to become companions in the Tardis at the same time.

Eighth Doctor

You heard noises coming from the morgue and turned off the television, heading to investigate. A man you had wheeled in earlier, confirmed dead, walking out while keeping himself covered, was not what you were expecting to find. You screamed, probably scaring him more than he had scared you, and you grabbed the closest thing near you to hit him with when he approached.

After much confused and frightened yelling back and forth, you helped him find clothes. You were sure the outfit he had settled on was meant for Halloween but didn't dare speak as you stared at the strange man.

"You were dead."

"I was, yes." He smiled, eyebrows furrowing when you pressed a finger to his cheek, checking he wasn't a figment of your imagination. "You're not going to hit me with a clipboard again, are you?

"No."

You helped him against the Master, believing him when he remembered who he was, saying, "You came back from the dead. This night couldn't get any weirder."

And when it was over, you agreed to travel with him.

War Doctor

You attended the academy together, meeting again during the Time War. You were ushering children to safety and when he had come across you, he had stopped to help.

Ninth Doctor

You were a scientist enlisted to help examine the genetically altered pig and had caught him looking around. When he tried to use the psychic paper it didn't work so he resorted to telling you the truth and you helped him find the pig, saddened when it died. You helped him against the Slitheen and parted ways after Downing Street was left in a pile of rubble.

Tenth Doctor

You met in the alternate universe, an ordinary woman turned soldier to fight against the Cybermen. You were trapped in his universe and helped him after he lost Rose.

Eleventh Doctor

You were Rory's sister and when Prisoner Zero was in the hospital, it had knocked you unconscious and when you woke up, the alien was gone and you were introduced to the Time Lord, who didn't hesitate to persuade you to join the three of them on adventures.

Twelfth Doctor

You worked at the school with Clara and despite his many attempts to keep distance between you, you were always caring towards him. When you found the Tardis, he gave a brief explanation while insulting your intelligence and when you called his bluff, he took you on a trip, claiming it was only to prove a point. But you became a great friend in time and later became more.

Thirteenth Doctor

You were traveling with her when she regenerated.

Delgado!Master

You were a scientist at UNIT and a companion of the Doctor. You met the Master when he took you hostage, not harming you, and you were caught between the two Time Lords every time the Master reappeared.

Ainley!Master

You were a companion of the Sixth Doctor and he took you with him for a while, leaving the Doctor to chase him down to find you. Only when he did, you didn't want to leave the Master behind.

Roberts!Master

You were the wife of the man whose body he had possessed and when you saw the odd colour of his eyes in the light, you immediately knew something was wrong. You fought against him and he knew you would be valuable to him alive. So he got you to help him, spouting lies in the beginning that you never believed. You were stubborn and he realized early on that he could not hypnotize you so he settled for the truth. You made a deal with him that once it was over, he would leave your husband alone and he agreed.

Jacobi!Master

You had been traveling for weeks to reach the silo. You were skilled at fighting Futurekind and stepped in when a group of Futurekind tried to hunt a family heading where you were going.

When you entered the gates, you began to ask questions, questions about a man who everyone was calling their savior. So, desperate for answers, you sneaked past guards and found the lab was empty. Chantho had caught you looking around, and when the Professor returned, he summoned guards, but you had seen the missing factors in their plan and bargained with them. They didn't toss you to the Futurekind, and you helped everyone reach Utopia.

Simms!Master

You were his secretary who organized meetings, calls and was attached to his hip nearly 24/7. You always knew there was something about him and when you were going over an itinerary in his office before he had to go to a meeting, he caught your curious staring.

"Didn't your mother tell you that staring is rude?"

You apologized, looking at the desk.

"Well, what is it?" He asked.

"Nothing, Mr. Saxon."

He knew you were suspicious, but you were more help to him alive (as much as he hated to admit) so he told you the truth and his plan. You were shocked by it and he used your attraction toward him as a weakness, starting an affair with you. When he captured Martha's family and turned the Doctor old, he tossed Lucy in a cell and you were no longer his secretary but his lover who was almost as mad as him. He had changed your shy personality for the better in both your minds, but others would disagree. The Doctor had tried to reach out to you but you were loyal to only the Master who was surprised by how much you had started to mean to him.

Missy

You met when the Doctor brought her onto the Tardis. You were traveling with him after you were captured. She was relieved to see you again, and although she was no longer the blonde-haired hoodie-wearing Time-Lord you knew, you were open to continuing your relationship.

Dhawan!Master

You were a companion of the Doctor since his Twelfth incarnation and had grown close to Missy. You would often sit and talk about the people around you. Missy organizing people into different torture factories (telling you who would go where) and you would join in. You were mischievous like her and even the Doctor had trouble reigning you in at times. You had a feeling that something wasn't quite right about O when you first met him and when you confronted him before going to Barton's party, you surprised him when you said, "I won't tell her." You had hugged him and whispered in his ear, "Welcome back."

Jamie McCrimmon

You were arranged to be married to join your clans. You went traveling with him in the Tardis and got married when you returned.

Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart

You were born decades in his future and had met the Second Doctor during one of his adventures and became a valued addition to the Tardis. You met the Brigadier, then Colonel, during the Web of Fear. He was taken back by your flirtatious personality, leaving him speechless. You weren't like, women in his time and that was something that drew him to you immediately. You meet him again during the Invasion of the Cybermen and decide to stay in his time to pursue a relationship with him.

Mike Yates

You met when you were teenagers.

Alydon

You were a Thrall and it wasn't uncommon for his eyes to wander from Dyoni whom he was to be betrothed to, however, when the war with the Daleks grew nearer, your father pledged his alliance to Alydon. People used to call your father paranoid for he always said that the Dals would return and bring nothing but death with them. Alydon was shocked that he had a daughter who was a trained warrior. His staring caused teasing that you ignored as you questioned the bashful leader about the Daleks. He swore that the planet stopped turning when you looked at him, the only beautiful thing in the withered forest.

Rory Williams

You met during his time in Rome. You helped him blend in and he was thankful for your help. A friendship quickly blossomed between you.

Ian Chesterton

You were the new teacher at the school. Ian had overheard many students talking about you and when Susan entered his class late he wondered if she really thought his class was that boring. He would have been insulted if she wasn't the smartest in his class.

"You're late." He stated.

You followed Susan inside and Ian paused when he saw you. "Its my fault, Mr Chesterton."

He cleared his throat, shaking your outstretched hand. "Right. Well, don't let it happen again.

You smiled, "Of course." You left the room, sending Susan a wave that she eagerly returned.

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angelguk · 3 years

Note

if youre still thinking angst for jock jk: much like real life jungkook, jock jk i feel like wants to be good — at everything. and he really is great at everything! so when he isnt great, he takes it very personally and i wouldnt be surprised if this spills into his relationship. wanting to do things “perfectly” in their relationship but forgetting that jock jk! oc should be involved in the decision making of what is “perfect”

alternatively: olivia rodrigo deja vu but jungkook is olivia thinking about oc and namjoon

this is very much a valid angst prompt ur brain is amazing anon im giving u a kiss rn......... ummm lemme write sumn small for dis :3

featuring: oc being oblivious, jeongguk just wanting to be the best boypwen, namjoon being observant and unspoken insecurities

Jeongguk doesn't usually shrink into himself like this. He abhors it, knows it's not him at all. And yet, he can't help his behaviour, knee bouncing harshly against the bricked pavements as he waits for you to leave your chemistry lab. There's a dainty silver bracelet sitting in his pocket, his head resting in hands as the autumn sun beats down on his back. You don't know it yet but he's got a pretty date planned: a late lunch at your favourite restaurant, an evening walk in the park at the centre of town, maybe some arcade games or a movie if you feel like it, and then a drive down to the hillside where you can watch the sun slip beyond the horizon and Jeongguk can gift you the bracelet and the cute bunny teddy he picked out last night.

It's not for any reason in particular, Jeongguk just wants you to know how much he cares (loves) you. Adoration is what drives his actions, his head springing up when the doors finally swing open and your fellow students spill forth into the afternoon breeze.

You're always one of the last people to leave because you liked buttering up your professors with casual conversations and sweet compliments, so Jeongguk isn't too bothered when everyone disperses and you're still not visible. It's not like you knew he was here away – he did tell you he was stuck in practise all afternoon.

When you do appear, the tiny welcoming smile that was sitting on his lips plummets to the floor.

You're gazing up at a familiar face, eyes sparkling as the sun hits them, your features bright and eager. His eyes eventually shift to the person ambling beside you, taking his towering stature and confident stride, a sickening feeling spreading through his system when he recognises who it is.

Kim Namjoon.

Of all sights to see, Jeongguk would rather have his eyes plucked out by birds that see you around Namjoon again. Especially after what he said to him.

You're giggling, completely unaware of the violent twisting of Jeongguk's heart in his ribs and the words he'd planned to say dissolving on his tongue. You don't even notice him at first, Namjoon's eyes are the ones that stray away, idling over the campus scenery until the settle on Jeongguk.

He wants to smash something, fingernails digging into his palm as his fist curls. Namjoon just grins, waving him down like they're old friends. "Jeongguk!"

You follow then, surprise bleeding over your pretty face. Jeongguk doesn't know why it hurts.

"Gukkie?" A question. He notes how you lean into Namjoon as you draw close, like he's your boyfriend.

"Hey." It's said so quietly that Jeongguk considers smacking himself in the face. A tight cough follows the meek word, clearing his throat from the heaviness that plagues it. "How was class?"

"Good," you return, still confused. "I thought you had practise?"

"Coach let us out early," he lies, smiling hard so you don't see through it.You make a non-committal noise, vaguely appeasing the turmoil in his head. "Namjoon," he adds, finally acknowledging the asshole. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"Ah," he sighs, a sheepish grin spreading across his lips. "I got an internship here; Professor Song was kind enough to give me an assistant position. I'm considering applying for master's here too."

"Oh," he doesn't even try to mask his irritation. "That's nice."

But you don't hear it, nodding like an enamoured puppy. "Right? It'll be nice having you around again!"

"It feels good to be here," Namjoon returns. "Don't know why I didn’t apply to this university, to be honest."

Jeongguk knows. It was because this was your dream university and Namjoon didn't want to do his undergraduate with you trailing around like a lingering stench, especially right after your break-up. But now, apparently, he's totally fine with it.

"Hmm, yeah. It's a great university," Jeongguk states, disinterested. He turns to you with a tired smile. "I actually came to pick you up for lunch, you haven't eaten yet have you?"

"I actually did before class," you say, lips forming an apologetic pout. "Can we reschedule for dinner? I wanna show Namjoon around first."

Oh. The weight of his heart sinks him into the ground, earth eagerly swallowing him up as his head splits. So Namjoon gets first priority. Kim Namjoon, over him. Over your boyfriend.

"Yeah, yeah," Jeongguk shrugs. "That's fine. We can reschedule. Text me when you're done, okay?"

He doesn't miss the way Namjoon's gaze lingers on him as he turns away, waving you a quick goodbye. You didn't even give him a hug, stationed beside Namjoon like you watched to attach his limbs to yours. It's unsettling, how swift you loyalty glides away from Jeongguk. He hates how annoyed it makes him because he knows you don't do it purposely. But still, shouldn't he come first?

It's that thought that sends him spiralling, sitting alone in the heat of his car as the bracelet in his pocket grows heavy. Where you like this with Namjoon? Did you put him first? He thinks you did – you cancelled on him so many times in the course of that relationship. Did Namjoon take you to similar places? Did the two of you have moments you never shared with him? That one hurts the most, because even to this day Jeongguk has never shared the titbit of information Namjoon granted him. What did Namjoon give you that you never see in Jeongguk? Even with the title of 'together' hanging over your heads he doesn't feel secure enough – good enough for you. It's what leaves him on edge, overthinking each moment and word and touch shared between the two of you. Because it took you both so long to get here, what did you see in those other guys that you never saw in Jeongguk at first? He longs to be only one you remember, wipe away any lasting memory of any of the others, until it was only him.

But that feels impossible, further sparked in moments like this when you pick them over him. He'll always be the second option, the sideline safety. But never the first choice.

#ask #anon #listened to deja vu while writing dis #nawt edited #jungkok angst #jungkook x reader #au: jock!jaykay

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musette22 · 3 years

Text

Burning For You

Title: Burning For You Pairing: Chris Evans x Sebastian Stan (Evanstan) Rating: Teen and up Word count: 3.1k A/N: Written for Evanstan Week day 6, a late fill for the Alternate Universe prompt. This silly piece of fluff is entirely inspired by the wonder that is the Mountain Lodge candle from the Yankee Candle Company. Yes, the one that inspired this iconic Tumblr post. The one that smells like Chris Evans.

I was lucky enough to receive one as a gift from the wonderful @howdoyousleep3 and my life hasn't been the same since I smelled it for the first time. Thank you for introducing me to such delights baby K, ilyyy 💖 Also BIG thank you to the @evanstanweek team and to my beautiful beta @rainbowsandcoconut who came up with the outline for this fic when I told her my idea! Love you, boo 😘

Summary: Evanstan AU. Sebastian gets a little carried away when raving about the Mountain Lodge candle to a friend. It leads to an unexpected, fragrant encounter.

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“Listen, D. You’ve gotta smell this candle.” Sebastian leans in closer, nearly knocking over his - third - glass of red. “You know I’m not usually a scented candle kinda guy, but this one…” He closes his eyes and tips back his head, an expression of pure bliss on his face. “Incredible. Glorious. Magnificent.”

“You look like you’re about to pull a Meg Ryan in When Harry met Sally over there, Seb.”

Sebastian straightens, giving Deirdre a meaningful look across the table at the low-key SoHo bar they’re having drinks at. “You kid, but I’m this close. It’s that good, not even exaggerating.”

“Sure you’re not,” Deirdre huffs, lifting her glass and taking a sizeable gulp of her Cosmopolitan.

“Fine, don’t believe me,” Sebastian shrugs. “You know, I pity you for not having experienced the delights of the Mountain Lodge candle, really. If you knew what it smelled like, you’d be singing its praises too, believe me.”

Deirdre rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Fine, I’ll bite. What does it smell like, Sebastian, pray tell.”

Sebastian sits up eagerly. “It smells…” he starts, “like an evening in that lodge in the Green Mountains we rented with the others a couple of years ago. Remember that? How it felt to relax by the fire after a long day of hiking, the scent of cedarwood and toasted marshmallows in the air?”

“Hmmm,” Deirdre agrees. “That was nice, yeah. But hardly worth busting a nut over, I’d say.”

Sebastian holds up a single finger. “I'm not done. Because this candle doesn’t just smell like the lodge, it also smells like the lumberjack living at the lodge.”

Deirdre frowns. “There was no lumberjack living at the –”

“The metaphorical lumberjack, D, god. Work with me here a little.”

“Oh right, okay. Gotcha.”

“It smells,” Sebastian continues, undeterred, “like soft, worn flannel. Like beard oil and a hint of clean sweat. It smells like a big, strong, gorgeous man who just got done hewing a ginormous tree with his massive axe and cutting it down into firewood, which he’s now using to light the very fireplace in front of which he’ll make sweet, sweet love to you, on the rug that’s actually the skin of a bear that attacked his rescue dog and which this man fought off and killed with his own bare hands.”

“Whooofffff,” Deirdre says, fanning herself with a napkin. “Fine, I’m starting to see the attraction.”

“It smells…” Sebastian goes on, pausing for dramatic effect before delivering his clincher, “like Chris Evans.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Deirdre groans loudly, sagging back in her chair. “Ughh, shoulda known this was coming. For chrissake, Sebastian, you literally cannot go even one night without bringing up Chris Evans, can you?”

“I totally can,” Sebastian protests, like the mature, professional, Times-employed literary critic he is. “But you don’t understand, D. This candle, it’s actually like they bottled the very essence of Chris Evans and then infused a candle with it. It’s life-changing.”

“Yeah, yeah, you have a permanent boner for Chris Evans, you wanna marry him and have his little bearded babies, tell me something I don’t know,” Deirdre sighs, draining the last of her drink and immediately starting to look around for the waiter to order a new one. Distantly, Sebastian notices the song playing in the background changing to The Smith’s ‘Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want'. Ah, if only.

“Listen to me,” Sebastian insists, unconsciously starting to speak louder, like he’s some small-town preacher trying to make his ignorant clergy see the light. “Deirdre, darling, you’re one of my oldest friends. I wouldn’t lie to you. I swear, when you smell this candle, you too will feel like you’re being engulfed in the embrace of the brilliant, spectacular, totally unique smokeshow that goes by the name of Chris Evans. It’s as if the man himself is wrapping those huge, muscled arms of his around you, crushing you to his wide chest as you tuck your face into the crook of his neck while his beard brushes your temple and you inhale his masculine scent of cologne, sex and clean, honest sweat, I swear to god – D, are you even listening?”

At some point during the last part of Sebastian’s homily, Deirdre’s eyes drifted to a point over his right shoulder and got stuck there.

“Did you just- zone out?” Sebastian asks indignantly, waving a hand in front of her face. She doesn’t even blink. “Hello? Earth to Deirdre.”

“Seb,” Deirdre says, still not looking at Sebastian.

“Oh, I see,” Sebastian barrels on. “Here I am, pouring my heart out, telling you I found a candle that smells exactly like the man of my dreams and you’re just… What are you doing, actually? Are you okay?”

At this point, Deirdre’s eyes have gone comically round, mouth hanging open just a little. “Sebastian,” she repeats, more urgently now – and just as he’s turning his head to find out what put that dumbfounded look on her face, someone nearby clears their throat.

Sebastian startles, looking up at the man who’s appeared next to their table.

“Hi,” the man says in a deep, rich voice.

A deep, rich voice that Sebastian knows all too well. A deep, rich voice that belongs to none other than Chris Evans, Hollywood heartthrob and actual smokeshow, himself.

Oh.

Sebastian gapes while Chris, dressed in dark wash jeans, a red flannel shirt and a brown shearling jacket, smiles at him patiently. He’s all soft-looking beard and strong nose and bulging biceps and long, lean legs, and Sebastian has died and gone to heaven.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Chris says, “but was just sitting a table over and I couldn’t help but overhear.”

And from one moment to the next, Sebastian crashes forcefully back to earth. His whole body goes cold, the blood draining from his face so quickly he feels dizzy with it.

Fuck. No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening. There is no way this is actually happening.

Except it is.

Sebastian had just been extremely, loudly and publicly horny about the very guy that’s standing next to him right now. The guy who is no doubt about to give Sebastian a piece of his mind at best, and a right hook to the jaw at worst. And honestly, he’d deserve it.

Since Sebastian wouldn’t even know where to begin apologizing, he says nothing. Just keeps staring at Chris in ever-growing horror, his pulse pounding in his ears so loudly it almost drowns out the miserable sound of Morrissey still pleading in the background.

Chris clears his throat. “So,” he says, bringing up a hand to rub the back of his neck. “This candle smells like me, huh?”

Sebastian groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Shit. Fuck. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean- Oh my god, please, please, please just forget you heard any of that.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

Puzzled, Sebastian chances a glance at Chris from between his fingers. He’s partly still covering his face out of embarrassment, and partly because Chris is so gorgeous in real life that Sebastian isn’t sure he could look at him directly without spontaneously combusting. It’s like staring at the fucking sun. He doesn’t seem too angry, though, thank god. In fact, there’s an amused twinkle in his blue eyes that makes Sebastian’s shoulders relax infinitesimally.

“Because it was incredibly inappropriate?” Sebastian suggests, honestly a bit confused about having to explain this to him.

“I don’t know,” Chris shrugs. “It sounded pretty great. Kinda want to smell it for myself now.”

For some unfathomable reason – probably because unexpectedly seeing his long-time celebrity crush in the flesh broke his brain, Sebastian blurts out, “Oh, I don’t have it with me. It’s back at my apartment.”

Slowly, Chris raises a single eyebrow. The look sends a shiver straight down Sebastian’s spine, from the crown of his head right down to his toes. “Is it now?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian replies breathlessly.

Chris’s gaze drops down to Sebastian’s brown leather boots before slowly travelling back up to his face. “I gotta say, normally someone would at least have to buy me dinner first, but…” He trails off, looking Sebastian straight in the eye before finishing, “I am really curious about this candle.”

“You are?” Sebastian says dumbly, and then “Ow!” when Deirdre delivers an impressively precise kick to his shin under the table. He turns to give her a betrayed look, but when he meets her eyes, with which she’s clearly trying very hard to communicate something to him, he finally catches on. “Oh!” Sebastian whips back around to Chris, staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. “I- you- you mean like…” He swallows hard. “You wanna come back to my place to, uh, smell the candle?”

Although Chris’s expression remains amused, there’s a hint of trepidation there as well. “Sure,” he says, smiling crookedly. “If… that’s something you’re up for?”

Sebastian’s mind races. The way he sees it, there are two possibilities. Either Chris Evans is actually standing here in the flesh, propositioning him, or Sebastian hit his head in the bathroom earlier and is actually just lying on the dirty tile floor, hallucinating as a result of severe head trauma. The second option seems by far the most likely, but then, his shin does hurt like a sonuvabitch.

Well, fuck.

Sebastian clears his throat and sits up straighter, running a hand through his longish hair. “I mean, yeah, that’s- wow. That. That would be okay with me, uh huh. You mean like, now?”

“If that works for you?”

Without thinking, Sebastian says, “Well, I’m here with Deirdre –” before letting out another sharp yelp as said Deirdre crushes his toes under her heel. “Jesus, D!”

Deirdre ignores him. “Ohhh, would you look at the time,” she exclaims, holding up her wrist which very much doesn’t have a watch on it. “Boy, it’s much later than I thought. I really oughta get going, early start tomorrow.” She yawns theatrically, then grabs her purse and throws down two twenties on the table. “It was lovely seeing you, Sebastian, Chris… Evans,” she adds, with a wooden nod in Chris’s direction. “Hope you two have a lovely evening, bye now!”

And she’s gone.

They both stare after her for a second, and then Chris chuckles – a low sound that reverberates pleasantly in Sebastian’s chest. “Well,” Chris says, turning back towards him. “It’s nice to meet you, Sebastian.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Chris.”

Sebastian stands, taking Chris’s hand, which is warm and big and ever so slightly calloused, and exactly like Sebastian always imagined. “Yeah, I know,” he says, because he’s cool like that. And then, in a show of bravura that surprises even himself, Sebastian holds Chris’s gaze, tilts his head a fraction, and says, “So uh, my place?”

Chris smiles, casually dropping a few bills on the table, more than enough to cover their drinks, before taking a step to the side to let Sebastian pass. “Lead the way,” he says, lightly resting his hand on the small of Sebastian’s back as they make their way towards the exit.

🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥

It’s only once they’re outside and the cold February night air manages to cool down Sebastian’s overheated brain somewhat that it occurs to him to ask if Chris wasn’t at the bar with anyone.

“I met a friend for drinks but he just left,” Chris explains. “I was just waiting for the bill when I overheard you guys.”

“And you’re sure you don’t have any other plans?” Sebastian asks, because he’s nothing if not a self-sabotaging idiot.

They’re still standing outside the bar, the golden light radiating from a nearby lamppost decorated with a cluster of luminous orbs making Chris look softer, somehow. Still a Hollywood heartthrob, but also charmingly human. Unfortunately, it does absolutely nothing to make Sebastian any less infatuated. If anything, it only endears Chris to him more, which he really didn’t think was possible.

“Not really, no,” Chris replies, amusement in his tone. “I was just gonna go back to my hotel and read for a bit.”

Sebastian perks up at the mention of his area of expertise. “Oh, yeah? What’re you reading?”

“I haven’t started it yet, but it’s this history of space travel? I read a great review of it in the Times the other day, so I thought I’d give it a go.” With a self-deprecating smile, Chris adds, “I’m kind of a space nerd.”

Sebastian blinks. “Not ‘To Infinity and Beyond’, by any chance?”

“That’s the one,” Chris confirms. “You know it?”

“I wrote the review.”

Chris’s eyes go round. “You did not.”

In lieu of replying, Sebastian digs up his wallet from his pocket, takes out his Times-employee card and holds it up for Chris’s inspection.

“Huh,” Chris says, studying the card. “What are the odds.” When his eyes turn back to Sebastian’s, he suddenly breaks out into a grin, wide and boyish. “Well, I guess that explains a thing or two.”

“How do you mean?” Sebastian frowns.

“I mean, that review was brilliantly written so you clearly have a way with words.” With a sly look, Chris goes on, “which explains your colorful descriptions of that candle earlier. The masculine scent of cologne, sex and clean, honest sweat was especially vivid.”

Sebastian groans, dragging a hand down over his face. “Jesus Christ, this is so embarrassing.”

Chris eyes shine with genuine mirth as he laughs, “Hey, come on, don’t worry about it.” He takes a step closer, ducking his head to try and catch Sebastian’s eyes, which are now firmly fixed on the pavement in an attempt to conjure up a hole to swallow him. “Call me a narcissist, but I didn’t exactly hate overhearing a gorgeous guy describing me as the man of his dreams.”

“Oh god,” Sebastian mutters, feeling himself turn a fetching shade of crimson. Trying to hide his blush, he turns around abruptly and nearly walks into the lamppost.

Chris, his savior, his knight in shining armor, manages to grab him by the back of his coat just in time to avoid the imminent collision. Sebastian still stumbles, but strong, capable arms wrapping securely around his waist keep him upright.

Carefully, Sebastian turns in Chris’s embrace so they’re facing each other, though he can’t quite make himself look Chris in the eye yet. “I’m guessing you caught on to this by now,” Sebastian tells the St Christopher pendant resting on Chris’s sternum, “but I’m kind of a disaster.”

Chris just hums, lifting a hand to tilt up Sebastian’s chin with his index finger, a small smile playing on his lips. “A beautiful one, though,” he whispers into the negligible space between them, before he closes that space and presses soft, full lips to Sebastian’s own.

Sebastian can’t suppress the small sound that escapes him when their lips meet, eyes closing on instinct as he lets himself sink into the kiss. Lets Chris take charge and coax open Sebastian’s mouth by running the tip of his tongue along the seam of his lips. Sebastian doesn’t think twice about letting him in. When their tongues touch, sweet and soft and languid, he trembles, pressing closer. Chris tastes a little like beer, and while Sebastian’s never been overly fond of beer, it takes approximately two seconds of being kissed by the hottest man on the planet for it to magically turn into Sebastian’s new favorite taste. Ever.

The kiss starts off slow; a little cautious maybe, as if Chris still isn’t entirely sure it’s welcomed. But then Sebastian’s hands find their way to Chris’s waist, fingers gripping tightly, and Chris slides a hand into Sebastian’s hair, angling his head gently to the left to deepen the kiss – and suddenly, Sebastian’s entire body feels like it’s on fire. He moans, relishing the feel of Chris's soft beard scratching at his clean-shaven cheeks, and way Chris takes control of the kiss, like something right out of every embarrassing fantasy he's ever had.

When Chris hums against his lips, as if he’s enjoying this just as much as Sebastian is, Sebastian’s knees go all weak and useless. It’s a good thing that Chris is there, tightening his left arm around his waist and pulling him more securely against the hard lines of his own body – which actually doesn’t do a thing to help Sebastian’s current knee situation. He whimpers, curling his hands into the fabric of Chris’s coat to anchor himself.

When Chris finally breaks the kiss, he doesn’t go far. His breathing has deepened, warm puffs of air caressing Sebastian’s tingling, wet lips. Sebastian exhales shakily. The way his head is spinning might be partially due to the wine, but it's definitely mostly because of Chris sweeping him off his feet with his smooth, movie star ways.

Needing a moment to gain his composure before he speaks, Sebastian buries his face in the crook of Chris’s neck, taking a deep, steadying breath –

Oh.

“I fucking knew it,” he groans.

Sebastian feels rather than hears Chris’s quiet laugh; feels the vibrations of it shake his broad chest under Sebastian’s palms. “Yeah? Do I really smell like your candle?”

“Better,” Sebastian mutters. On instinct, he presses his lips against Chris’s exposed neck, eliciting a shiver from him.

“You know,” Chris rumbles into Sebastian’s ear. “I still think I need to smell this magical thing for myself. Make sure you’re not just flattering me to get into my pants, y'know?”

Christ.

“Yeah,” Sebastian nods. “Definitely, good thinking. Empirical evidence is paramount. In fact, it’s totally possible I’m just mixing things up right now because my brain’s all” – he makes a poof motion with his hands, trusting Chris will get his drift – “so I think maybe I’ll need to do some comparative research.”

Chris tilts his head in though. “Hands-on research?”

“I think that’s best, yes,” Sebastian concurs.

“Right. Well, out of the two of us, you’re definitely the higher educated one, so I’m just gonna take your word for that.” After a beat, Chris adds, “as long as I get to test a theory or two of my own.”

“Oh?” Sebastian licks his lips. “Such as?”

The wicked glint in Chris’s eyes is the only warning he gets before Chris is sliding his hand back into Sebastian’s hair and giving it a firm, experimental tug.

“Ah,” Sebastian breathes, his eyelids fluttering, the blood rushing south so fast he feels dizzy – again.

Chris grins smugly. “Such as that.”

“Okay,” Sebastian croaks. “Yeah, that seems fair.” Wasting no more time, he reaches out to grab Chris’s free hand and starts to pull him along the pavement in the direction of his apartment.

Chris, laughing as he squeezes Sebastian’s hand, follows closely behind.

🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥

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#evanstan week 2021 #evanstan #rpf #chris evans x sebastian stan #chris evans #sebastian stan #my fic #my writing #heeeyyyy look at that I still write!#just took a little break #sorry about that 😅#hope you enjoy!!

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

"Weird Secret Friends" *Chapter 8*

Chapter 7

Chapter 9

I know, I wait almost 4 days and now you gotta go through this bullshit. I can already hear your cries of anguish and suffering.

I love it so much. MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

That being said I promise regular chapters for the rest of the week! Okay I don't promise but I promise to do my best.

Note: Alright it's a fanfic people, alternate universes and all that. So you know what we're saying that all the Carisi sisters are younger, and Sonny was the big bro. Kay? I can't deal with all the continuity stuff.

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@mrsrafaelbarba

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

Sonny was watching TV with Amanda when his phone went off. He paused the movie and answered the phone:

“Barba it’s kinda late--”

“What's wrong with your cousin?” he flatly said.

“Excuse me?” Sonny asked. “What kind of question is that?”

“Just answer the question, Carisi,” Barba insisted.

“Well it's a loaded question, Barba.” Sonny replied.

“Okay then just answer me this,” Barba sighed. “Why did I come back to my apartment to find her halfway through my once full bottle of vodka and pouting on the couch. Oh, after she had gone through all of my things of course,”

“Aw shit,” Sonny muttered under his breath. “That's kind of on me, Barba,”

“One second babe,” He muttered to Amanda, while he got up and went into his kitchen.

“Babe?” Barba asked.

“It’s just Rollins,” Sonny dismissed it.

“So you have feelings for me, but you’re fucking Rollins?” He asked in a snarky tone.

“What, are you jealous or somethin’ Barba?” Sonny smirked.

“No, don’t be stupid,” Rafael rolled his eyes. “Why is it on you?” He changed the subject.

“I should have never filled her head with doubts and suspicions and then sent her back to your place; when I should have known that you would keep a full bar in your apartment,” Sonny sighed as he ran his hands through his hair.

“Well of course I would keep a stocked bar in my apartment Sonny, I entertain people and I'm a grown man,” Rafael scoffed.

“Yeah, again it's on me,” Sonny repeated.

“Okay so what is wrong with your cousin?” Rafael asked.

“I think that pretty much answers it, don't you think?” Sonny asked in a “duh” tone.

“... I see,” Rafael glanced at his bedroom door wearily.

“Where is she now? Did you send her away? Please tell me you didn't send her away,” Sonny begged.

“No I didn't send her away, she's sleeping it off in my bedroom,” He got up and walked to his bedroom door. “I didn't want to just kick her out because she was upset. I'm not that big of a dick,” He whispered as he watched you sleep. You looked so calm and peaceful, that’s the girl he remembered.

“ You know, this should probably be better explained in person,” Sonny walked back into his living room where Amanda glanced over at him. He motioned for her to get her stuff together.

“Can I come over?”

“Yeah okay, not like I have anything else to do,'' he rolled his eyes as he shut his bedroom door and walked back to his living room.

--------------.

Sonny showed up to Rafael's apartment with a loaded head and a semi heavy conscience. He knocked on the door and Rafael let him inside.

“Okay so what kind of long story is this,” Rafael asked while he poured himself a glass of scotch. He noticed Sonny giving him a weird look.

“What? It's not like she's in here now,” he rolled his eyes.

“True,” He nodded. “Do you have beer?”

“Yes, dark or light?” Rafael made a disgusted face while he asked. He couldn't stand the taste of beer but he always had it on him just in case he had barbarians over such as Sonny.

“Shiner Bock, if you have it,” Sonny requested. Rafael nodded as he went into his ‘party fridge’ and handed him one before sitting on the couch across from him.

“Alright so where do I start?” Sonny thought out loud.

“Well I guess first of all I wanted to say I don’t wanna say I told you so, but this is exactly why I didn't want you and Y/N to get involved in the first place. It had nothing to do with my feelings for you. It’s because I know that you tend to keep relationships with guys and girls chill and casual, but Y/N is a special case and special to me,”

“Yeah.. I wish you had expressed that before,” Rafael groaned.

Well what was I supposed to say in front of her, Barba? ‘Oh hey by the way, you probably shouldn't get involved with my trainwreck of a cousin? Sonny asked defensively.

“Maybe? I don’t know…” Rafael sighed as he put his head in his hands.

“Look, Rafael,” Sonny put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not like she’s some kinda degenerate junkie,”

“Oh well, that’s great--” He started to roll his eyes.

“I’m serious Rafael!” He pounded the table.

“Okay okay, I’m sorry Sonny,” He finally used his first name, trying to be as soft with him as possible. He could see how much you meant to him, and it was really endearing. “Go ahead,”

“Alright,” Sonny sighed, ready to tell your life story. You would probably kill him later for it, but there was no hiding your...issues now, he might as well get the whole context.

“Well, first of all-- her dad died before she was born, overdose,” He began. “Then she was stuck with her junkie mother, my auntie. Who by the way at this point, nobody had heard from in years,” He took a sip of beer.

“So anyways,” He began again. “One day, she showed up at my mom’s doorstep with Y/N, and told her that she can’t take care of Y/N, or that she didn’t want to,” He sighed. “She was three years old by then, I don’t even wanna think about what happened before then,”

“Jesus…” Rafael muttered.

“I was eight years old at the time, my sisters were even younger. My mom and dad had enough on their plate with just us. So, I kinda took her under my wing,” He went on.

“We became so close, she wanted to go by “Sunny” just so she could be like me. I told her it would be confusing for the two of us, so I called her Sunshine, Sunny for short. That way if I’m calling her sunny, then obviously it’s not myself,” He chuckled. To this day, he still called you Sunshine.

“But as she grew up, she just...kinda had a rough go. She didn’t really interact with kids her own age, she was really defensive and untrusting with anybody but me. Not even my parents. And then we got the call that her mother died, and it ripped me up inside to see her body at the funeral. It was so fucked up, she was so fucked up. That’s why I-- I think something really bad happened to her when she was with her mother, Rafael. Like-- really, bad.

“Fuck..." Rafael muttered while glancing at his bedroom door. He didn't want to imagine what you had been through at such a young age. He wanted to run in his room right now and just hold you, but he kept his composure.

“So then I went off to college when she was ten years old, just about to start junior high. She begged me to stay, but I told her she had a good family and that my parents and sisters loved her as much as I did, and to stay out of trouble. But...kids are cruel. They made her harder, and harder. Without me there to be her-- I dunno, her guiding light or her-- protector, she just kinda fell into a bad crowd by the time high school rolled around,” He sighed while taking another swig of beer.

“...Right,” Rafael nodded.

“So when i came home from school my mom told me she was going to kick Sunny out. I asked her why, and she went on and on about how she had gotten in with these local girls who were like, I dunno some kinda girl gang, and they’d knock over liquor stores and then get drunk and stoned. She said she was never around anyway, unless it was to steal money out of her purse; And she just didn’t wanna deal with her anymore,”

“...But she was only fifteen at the time,” Rafael was stunned.

“Yeah, and that’s what I told her!” Sonny exclaimed. “Look Barba my mom is the salt of the earth, but like I said she had a lot on her plate and my dad wasn’t around a lot-- and she had three other daughters to watch out for,”

“Three of her OWN daughters,” Rafael clarified with a judgmental tone.

“HEY,” Sonny warned. “I know how it sounds. And maybe-- maybe you’re right, maybe that’s why she washed her hands clean of Sunny. Because she was just a by-product of her fucked up sister. But I-- I’m not gonna condemn her for it. And you sure as hell don’t get to judge her,”

“You’re right,” Rafael nodded while sipping his scotch.

“So I took Sunny in,” Sonny finished his beer as he wrapped up his story. “I took her in while I went through the police academy. I made sure she got sober, quit hangin’ out with those girls, I got her to do well in school, hell I got her to graduate high school!”

“And…?” Rafael pressed.

“...And when I started bouncing around precincts, she was finally a productive member of society so she started living on her own. She had a few jobs, but never really going anywhere. So once I got placed here in SVU and started making better money, I started helping her out with rent and her car, as long as she promised to start going to community college. Which she agreed to because she really does wanna make something of herself,” He half smiled thinking about how far you had come and how proud he was to call you his cousin now. You were so full of life with dreams and ambitions he never saw in you as a scared little kid.

“Okay so-- how does all of this lead to what happened tonight?” Rafael leaned back and crossed his arms.

“Because she’s still an addict, Barba!” Sonny tried not to yell, but didn’t understand why Rafael was still so flippant about you.

“Just because she got her life together-- I got her life together, doesn’t mean that she just got ‘better’. She’s on a daily see-saw of sobriety. I do weekly ‘drop ins’ just to check on her. It’s gotten a lot better as time goes on, and the less and less I worry about her, but--” He took a breath and looked at the floor.

“....Deep down she’s still that little girl with all of her walls and her distrust. She doesn’t have friends, I really don’t think she’s ever had a stable ‘boyfriend’ or ‘girlfriend,’ I mean she-- she doesn’t, talk to people,” He paused before looking up and into Rafael’s eyes.

“...Which is why it has been yankin' my chain tryin’ to figure out just why in God’s name she was so-- open, to you,” He finally admitted. “She’s never been that close to anybody else but me, not in her entire life,”

“Wait,” Rafael put a finger up. “So...you haven’t actually been jealous of Y/N this whole time, you’ve been jealous of me?” He half laughed.

“I mean, it’s a little of both,” He shrugged with a small smile, able to joke about his feelings now. “But I meant what I said when I first got here, I know the main thing that Y/N needs in her life right now is stability. And you-- you are not stable, in the least,”

“Oh I’m the unstable one?” Rafael raised an eyebrow.

“Relationship wise, yeah,” Sonny pointed out.

“....Fair point,” Rafael nodded as he finished off his scotch. He knew the longest relationship he had ever had was with the cute barista he saw every morning who knew how to make his coffee just right. And that relationship only took him five minutes a day to maintain.

“So…” Sonny knocked Rafael from his thoughts.

“So...what?” Rafael quirked an eyebrow.

“So, I think that--” Sonny took a deep breath, knowing you might hate him for this. But it was for the best, and it needed to be said.

“I think that if you care anything about her, or me for that matter, that you let me take her home, and forget about this whole weekend,”

“....I mean…” Rafael rubbed the back of his neck. He didn't want to let you go. Well, he didn't want to let go of the girl he had met at Forlini's. The girl who made him laugh, who he could be his true self around, the girl he might---

“Look the bottom line here Barba is that Y/N is-- a lot of work. I should know, I’ve been taking care of her for 19 years. But I don’t mind it, because I love her more than anything else in this world. Well, her and the rest of my family. But still-- I love her,” Sonny now stood up.

“And I get that you like her, but she--- she has gotten way too serious about you way too fast, and way too hard. And this?” He gestured around the room, referring to the whole night. “This ain’t even the tip of the iceberg with her, if she’s really fallen off the wagon,”

“...God dammit,” Rafael stood up and began to pace in his living room. He thought about every single second he had spent with you since he met you; you had never seemed so...broken, as Sonny was describing you.

“What I’m saying is, unless you’re ready to-- ‘deal’ with her, and everything that comes with that, please for the love of God, just walk away now,” Sonny pleaded.

“Because she won’t listen to me if I tell her to stay away from you. And if things get too ‘real’ for you, you’re just gonna freak out or-- or get bored, and throw her away. Her self worth will drop to shit. And if that happens, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get her back from that,”

“I would never just throw her away, Carisi,” Rafael rolled his eyes.

“You can’t say that, Barba,” Sonny debated.

“And why the hell not?” Rafael narrowed his eyes.

“Because you’ve never NOT just ‘thrown away’ someone,” He chuckled. “That front door might as well be a garbage chute,”

“You son of a--” Rafael started to yell at him but Sonny cut him off.

“Tell me I’m wrong, Barba. Look me in the eyes and tell me I have no idea what I’m talking about, and I’ll leave here and let you deal with her the way you want to,” Sonny looked at him pensively. Rafael looked at him for several seconds, then softened his glare into a sad concession.

“....Take her,” He muttered softly while looking at the ground.

“Thank you,” Sonny mumbled softly as he turned to go retrieve your passed out self from the bedroom. However, he was instead met with the most unsettling sight:

You were standing in the doorway of the room, glaring at the two of them.

“...H-Hey, Sunshine--” Sonny tried to appease you with an awkward smile.

“Don’t,” You growled, stomping into the living room and began packing your bag.

“Y/N, what are you--” Rafael went to put a hand on your bag but you snatched it away before you shot fire out of your eyes into his gaze.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I misunderstand what you just said?” You barked at him with tears in your eyes. “Because I’m pretty damn sure I heard ‘take her’. You know like I’m some sort of defective Amazon package,”

“That’s not what I meant---” He softly spoke, the guilt of his words being heard by you was quickly eating him alive.

“No I know what you meant, Rafael,” You zipped your duffel shut angrily.

“I heard the whole god damn spiel. Which, by the way, thank you so much for detailing my entire little sob story, cousin,” You glared at Sonny as you started walking towards the front door, shoulder checking him.

“But neither of you have to worry about anything anymore, okay? You’re released from your ‘duties’. This trainwreck is leaving the station, so you can relax,” You looked at the both of them with pain in your eyes, tears cracking your words.

“Sunshine--” Sonny started after you.

“DON’T,” You glared at him while putting a finger up. “Don’t ever call me that again,”

“At least let me drive you home--”

“No,” You shook your head. “And you know what, cuz? I didn’t realize I was such a financial burden, so you know what? Cut me off. Because I’d rather be homeless again than take any more money from you,”

“What did I do?!” Sonny was now angry. “All I did was come over and try to protect you, that’s it!”

“I don’t need your protection!” You screamed. “This whole time...this whole time, I thought you were proud of me. That you trusted me,”

“I do trust you--”

“You don’t!” You stomped your foot while tears streamed down your face. “Y-You think that if . one single thing like a boy not liking me is gonna set me off, like I’m some kind of bomb you’ve kept from detonating for years. My life is not your responsibility anymore, Sonny! I don’t think it ever was!”

“Well who’s else was it gonna be?!”

“NOBODY’S!!!!” You finally dropped your duffel bag and kicked the wall, leaning your head against it. You were strangely quiet for a long pause before you spoke again in an eerily calm voice.

“...Do you know why my mother “dropped me off’ with your mother?”

“Because she couldn’t take care of you--”

“No I heard what you said,” You sniffled with a sad smile. “Because she didn’t want to,”

“Sunshine--”

“But leaving me with your mother, was her plan b,” You cut him off, still looking at the floor.

“What do you mean?” Sonny asked cautiously while looking at Rafael who had a terrified look in his eyes.

“She didn’t want to ‘burden’ her sister with me, but she had to when I wouldn’t die,”

“...W-What?” Rafael almost choked on the words in disbelief.

“She tried to smother me with a pillow, but I wouldn’t die. I kept screaming and crying, and I guess it touched her strand of humanity, so she stopped,” You rolled your eyes with the same sad smile.

That memory was forever imprinted in your brain. The terror of being woken up in blackness, unable to breathe. The smell of the cigarette smoke covered pillow being shoved into your throat and nostrils. Your mother crying and telling you it would be over soon, just to let go. And finally her sad, pathetic whimpers and sobs when she finally lifted the pillow from you, disappointed in herself that she couldn’t do one good thing in her life. That now she was going to have to pass you, her problem, onto her sister.

“Y/N, baby girl--” Sonny stepped towards you again.

“I wasn’t supposed to be raised by anybody, Sonny. I’m not even supposed to be alive!” You stomped your foot again while tears continued to flow.

“That’s not true!” He ran over and grabbed you in a hug. “You are not a burden,”

“Really?” You laughed sarcastically into his shoulder as you pushed him away from the hug. “You just said your mom didn’t even want to deal with me. Nobody did,”

“I did!” He argued. “I do,”

“Yeah well, maybe I’m my mother’s daughter. I don’t wanna be your burden,” You picked up the duffel and opened the door.

“Okay well you have no choice in that so you’re gonna have to let that go,” Sonny grabbed your hand before you could walk away.

“Fine,” You finally conceded with a blank expression.

“Guess I’ll just have to let a lot of things go, won’t I?” Your voice cracked as you looked at Rafael one more time with the saddest eyes.

He stared back at you with a stone cold face. He wanted so badly just to go and hold you in his arms, telling you how you didn’t deserve any of what happened to you, and that you deserved everything good and all the love in the world. But Sonny’s pleas were still in his head.

He didn’t know if he wanted the responsibility of your entire self worth and happiness, let alone your sobriety on his shoulders. He didn’t even like to get close to clients with that many issues, the pressure was too much. So instead he just stood there, trying not to show how much this was killing him, sending you away like this.

“Come on Sunshine, just-- let’s go, okay?” Sonny pleaded with you softly, pulling at your hand. You didn’t answer, you just nodded and started walking down the hallway towards the elevator, leaving Sonny at the door.

“...Thank you, Barba,” He mumbled softly, nodding at Rafael. Rafael barely nodded back before Sonny closed the door.

As soon as it was closed, Rafael dropped on his knees and began to cry. He didn’t know why exactly, was he crying because he felt horrible for all the shit you had gone through? Was he angry at himself for not being able to get over his own bullshit to actually open up and care about someone for more than a week? Was he really that big of a hypocrite, showing empathy to clients all the time but shutting out the one person he felt he might-- he couldn’t even think it. He wouldn’t let himself think it. He just composed himself and poured another scotch while turning on the TV, trying to forget what just happened.

His NETFLIX menu popped up; it asked him if he wanted to continue watching Bojack Horseman. He closed his eyes and muttered obscenities in spanish while memories of the night before flooded his brain, making him cry angry tears once more. He finally decided just to go to bed, maybe his brain would release him from torture if he could turn it off.

He wasn’t sure he could ever turn it off now.

#rafael barba #rafael barba angst #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #law and order svu fanfiction #svu fanfiction #sonny carisi #weird secret friends #rafael barba imagine

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jonogueirawrites · 2 years

Text

Ipê Branco.

AO3

Tags: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Angst, Fluff, Jealousy, Slow Burn (ish), Smut, Dubious Consent, Sex Pollen, Rick Flag Lives, Peacemaker dies, Happy Ending.

Chapter 1.

Chapter 4 – Love and happiness. Happiness and love.

Summary: Waller receives a tip that something terrible is happening, and she sends the Squad to investigate. What surprised them was Prim’s involvement in the case. But Rick wasn’t prepared for all the feelings and doubts she would give him.

Almost a year had passed since Midway City. The Squad had since gone on different assignments together, and it was no different at that moment. The criminals found themselves once again listening to Waller order them to go on another suicide mission.

“We’ve received a hint that a rogue cell is experimenting on humans on a private island. The scientists used to be under the command of Lex Luthor, who denied all and any association with them.” Waller showed them the next slide.

With a loud pop of her gum, Harley asked nonchalantly, “I don’t think it’s our problem. Does B-man know?”

“Yes-”

“Oh, that I want to see. Can you imagine Batman working with us?” Captain Boomerang asked from his seat.

Without taking his eyes from the document in his hands, Rick said, “I doubt it’s ever going to happen.”

“Batman is busy with his own problems. As Flag said, it isn’t going to happen, not now, not ever. Does anyone have any more questions, or can we proceed?” Waller stared at them with her cold eyes.

When the silence became uncomfortable enough, she carried on explaining the experiments ranged from mind-controlling hallucinogenic to body modifications, such as strength, speed, and the likes. The pictures on the slides became more and more gruesome with time.

“You said you got a hint? Who sent it?” Deadshot flipped the page in his hands, looking for the info.

“No one knows,” Waller answered.

“You don’t know?” Rick and Deadshot asked at the same time.

“Are you deaf?” Waller didn’t take her eyes from the slide in front of her to ask.

Harley’s laughter reverberated on the walls. “That’s a new one. I’m glad we, for once, are not the only ones in the dark.” When Waller tried to speak, Harley interrupted with a “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Dismissed.”

The helicopter flew over the vast ocean for a long time before they could see a single sign of land in the distance.

The way to their destination was filled with silence after Rick explained June and he had broken up months before. She wanted to live a normal life since she wasn’t possessed anymore, and when Rick told her he couldn't just leave the team and asked her for some time, she said she would. To be fair, she did try. But she eventually decided their relationship wasn't working, packed her things, and was gone by the following morning.

“So much for true love, ain’t it Flag?” Deadshot asked without looking at him.

“I only know what I feel. Nothing less, nothing more. It’s not like I can force her to be with me.”

Harley looked at him with surprisingly soft eyes. “You’re right. You have to be a gentleman and give her space. Who knows what might happen in the future. Maybe you two will get back....” Harley got quiet before her eyes narrowed in mischief, “Or maybe you’ll find someone who will change everything.” She stuck her tongue out at Rick when he rolled his eyes.

“I hope not. I’m sick and tired of this shit. And besides, every time I go on a mission, the chance of not coming back only increases.”

“Awww…” Harley cooed and hugged him. “You may not want it, but you still care.” She cupped his face and pinched his cheeks. “So cute.”

“I swear to-” Rick’s words were cut when Harley bopped his nose.

“There it is.” Captain Boomerang interrupted their banter.

The helicopter approached the island and prepared to land when a figure in white walked over to them from amidst the trees. Her dress appeared perfect from a distance, there were no holes or dirt. The Squad got confused by both her appearance and presence on the island.

“Hey! You’re all finally here!” Prim shielded her face from the sun. On her lips, a smile Rick was relieved to see.

Harley ran to her side and gave her a tight hug. Captain Boomerang was the second to show his affection. When Deadshot nodded her way, she shook her head and walked in his direction, throwing her arms over his shoulders and bringing him near, getting a low chuckle from the mercenary. “Okay, okay. That’s enough.” He still smiled at her when they parted.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” Rick said. When she approached and nudged his foot with hers, he noticed the sparkle in her eyes and felt a smile form on his lips.

“Missed me, Mr. Colonel Flag?” She tilted her head, and her green-leaf eyes were impossibly dark. Filled with something he couldn’t name. “As much as the next criminal, Sunshine.” Her brows knitted for a second, and he didn’t understand if because of the criminal comparison or something else.

As fast as it had appeared, the frown was gone. Replaced by a chuckle escaping her lips. “Right. That’s why you’re still surrounded by the most virtuous of us.”

“Hey!” Harley chimed in. “Don’t speak like that. She can hear you.” Her hand caressed her bat, and she whispered to it, “It’s alright, Baby Girl. I love you either way.” When Prim giggled and glanced at Harley, the woman winked at her.

“As I was saying,” Prim turned her eyes to Rick and bit her bottom lip shaking her head.

“It pays the bills. What more could I ask for?” Rick asked. He watched the group unload the helicopter.

“I don’t know. Maybe stability? Not having to constantly think about death. Having a future to plan. A place to go back to every night. A woman to cuddle.” Prim nudged his foot again, wiggling her brows. “June,” she said at the end.

Rick couldn’t contain his laughter. He let it out of his chest without a worry in his mind. His head thrown back and his stance relaxed. When was the last time he had felt so at ease? His eyes fell on her again, and her signature smile decorated her face. An aura of peacefulness surrounding her.

“Maybe I don’t want it, Sunshine.” His lips curved. “I came to the conclusion that kind of life is not for me.”

“It’s a shame, Mr. Colonel Flag. Every man and woman deserves to be happy. Live in peace and be free of what dampens their spirits.” Her eyes lost in something only she could see. Their conversation ended there, and they helped the others unload the helicopter.

“Follow me, please.” Prim led them through the forest when they finished gearing up. The group was surprised to see she knew exactly where to go. It seemed she knew the place like the back of her hand.

“So, you’re the one who sent Waller the info?” Deadshot asked. “How did you know about this place?”

Without stopping or looking back, Prim answered him, “A little bird told me.”

“Of course.” Croc shook his head.

She laughed before continuing, “I couldn’t let them go on with the experiments. What they are doing here with the animals and what they intend to do with humans is beyond unspeakable.”

The conversation revolved around the things she had learned, and after a couple of hours, they arrived at her camp. “We rest here for the night. Tomorrow we plan how to stop this.”

“I guess this is as good a place as any,” Captain Boomerang stated. “Who takes the first watch?” He asked in Rick’s and Deadshot’s direction.

Prim answered from where she tried to start a fire. “There’s no need for it, Mr. Captain Boomerang.”

The thief walked in her direction, one of his hands fumbling with his pocket. “This is a lighter. It will make your job much easier.” He lit the fire and looked at her. “Voilá!” She chuckled and thanked him. “Please, call me Boomer.”

“Okay,” she said before heading to a fallen tree. Her hand in one of its cracks, looking for something.

“Wait!” Rick’s voice startled her, “You are just going to call him that.”

After looking at everyone around confused, she answered with a simple, “Yes.”

“Jealous much?” Harley asked.

“Why would I be?”

“Because she refuses to call you Flag or Rick.” Harley took a bar of chocolate from her backpack.

“Well, he is the boss-” Prim started but Rick interrupted her.

“I’m not your boss. Technically you’re not even part of the team.” He raised his hands.

“Should I pack and leave?”

“Please, don’t!” Harley pleaded. “I’m not sure he could handle it again.”

“Harley,” Rick growled lowly.

“What do you mean?” Prim’s eyes never left him.

Deadshot answered, “June dumped him.”

“I’m so sorry to-”

“Just forget about it.” Rick sighed and rolled his shoulders. “I’ll take first watch.”

“There’s no need for it.” Prim came back from the trunk with two skinned rabbits. “Who’s hungry?”

“I am.” Croc was the first to answer.

“This place is safe,” Prim stated after Boomer asked again about the watch. “We are far from the labs. Besides, if anything approaches us, I’ll know.”

“How?” Deadshot asked.

“Her friends will tell her,” Harley answered in her place. Her mouth stuffed with chocolate.

After skeptical looks from Deadshot and Rick, they got ready for the night ahead without another word.

The camp fell silent. Only the sound of the fire crackling in the air. Prim was lying on the ground with her focus on the stars above when she heard Rick standing up. She followed him with her eyes, and a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Noticing it took him far longer than a simple visit to the wilderness, she decided to check up on him. In silence, she managed to walk away from the group without waking anyone up.

“There you are.” He sat on the roots of a giant tree. His hands resting on his gun and his eyes alert. “Go back to sleep. I told you there’s no need for it.”

“I couldn’t sleep-”

“I’m no fool, Mr. Colonel Flag.” She sat on the ground next to him and nudged his leg with her shoulder. “One day, you’ll have to trust me.” She pulled her knees to her chest, tilting her eyes to the skies again.

“I trust you.” He looked down at her.

“No, you don’t. You don’t trust anyone but yourself.” She sighed. Patting her side, she silently asked him to join her.

“I do trust you.” He countered, sitting on the ground. His leg touching hers. His gun nested between his knees.

After he sat by her side, Rick broke the silence. His body almost touching hers. “I thought I would never see you again. I…” He sighed, too tired. His work, the Squad, the life he led, all starting to take their toll. “Thank you for helping June.” One of his knees close to his chest and his gun forgotten by his side. The sensation of vulnerability overwhelming him. “Thank you for putting up with me.”

“Are you going soft on me, Mr. Colonel Flag?” Prim flashed him one of her smiles. The one that reached her eyes and made him feel strange and lost. Made him feel at peace.

“I guess I am.” A quiet chuckle found its way out of his lips. “After June broke up with me, let’s just say I’ve learned to take one day at a time.” His eyes lost among the trees.

In his face an expression Prim wished she could read. In his mind…

In his mind memories of nights he spent awake in his office buried in piles of work to not go back to an empty home… if he could call it that. In the first drawer of his desk, a bottle of whiskey with only one tempting swig. In the cheap plastic picture frame, only a post-it reminding him to place a photograph of him and June. In his chest, a ghost whispering how much love was not for him. Mocking and laughing and pointing, making fun of his naivete. In his broken heart, the slither of hope to believe one day he would be happy. Truly and deeply happy. Forever.

Rick sighed again, trying to shake the feeling of sorrow from his soul, and Prim watched his chest rise and fall, wishing to somehow help him see life was there for him to seize control and make it all his.

Minutes ticked by, and they sat there enjoying nature’s music in the air. Rick didn’t notice she had scooched over to him until she leaned on his shoulder and addressed him. “I am truly sorry about you and June.” Her eyes still focused on the stars.

He sighed, too tired to talk about it. His thumb caressed his lower lip. “Me too, Sunshine. Me too.” He rested his head on top of hers.

Rick wondered how his life would be if he quit. Stood up and left. Started somewhere else in a completely different environment. Would he be happy? Could he lead an ordinary life? Wake up, go to work, go home and do it all over and over again? Chase the thing June craved so much?

He grimaced. What the hell was happiness and why did he think about it so much? Fuck! There was no need to overcomplicate things, his life was already a ton of fucked up shitshow after shitshow. He did not need to chase after dreams and illusions. He once dared to think love was real and for him – What a moron! – and what did it get him? Nothing but a headache and a broken heart. Fuck!

Rick wiped the doubts from his face with his shaking hands. His teeth nibbling on his lower lip. His reveries broken by her calm voice.

“You know,” she laced his arm with hers and brushed his skin absentmindedly, her affectionate side taking over. “Loving is never a mistake. There are all kinds of love. Have you ever heard of Henry David Thoreau?”

“I have not.” He tried to think of anything else, but his mind kept coming back to the delicious touch of her fingers on his skin. How her nails caressed his arm, making him feel calm and relaxed. With no care in the world. He wondered if she noticed what she was doing. Probably not was his conclusion after his mind revisited all the times she got close to the others.

“He said some wise words I think you would benefit from. Would you like to hear it?”

“Can I stop you?”

Prim giggled at his words.

Her cheek landed on his shoulder when she readjusted her position, the strands of her wild hair tickling his skin. She smelled like brown and green. Earth and plants. Roots and home. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. For a moment, he imagined it was all behind him. No more suicide missions, or more death hanging around his every step. No more dangerous criminals and a crazy volunteer to be responsible for. Free from himself. Just live. Maybe Prim was right after all.

A breeze of chilly wind blew their way, and the dried leaves on the ground moved in their direction. He watched the way she buried her free fingers on the dirt and how her breathing became shallow. She shivered, and his brows knitted in worry. “Are you okay?” He looked down at her and noticed her curls on his shoulder, resting down on his chest. He stopped breathing for an eternity when she gazed into his eyes.

She was beautiful. How had he not noticed it before? The way her teasing lips curved up into a playful smile. The way her eyes stole the light from the stars and rivaled with the moon. The way her skin felt warm against his.

Lifting her index finger and with a serious expression, she started, “He once said: ‘Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influence of the earth.’” Prim tilted her head and pushed a strand of his hair from his eyes. Her dirt-smeared fingers leaving a warm trail on his cold skin. “Love is not a rigid thing, Mr. Colonel Flag. It comes and goes. Flourishes and dies. It is from nature, and so love must respect its changes. The only thing we can do is cherish it while we have it.”

“I thought love lasted forever.” He searched her eyes for an answer. Enraptured by her touch.

“It does. The love you and June had will stay with you forever. It changed you. Turned you into something more. You will never be the same again.” Her fingers caressed his jaw, and her smile softened. “Don’t close your heart to love because that would mean you killed a little of yourself in the process.” Her hand rested on his chest. Her thumb caressing the spot where his heart was, feeling it beating through the t-shirt, its vibrations on her palm.

Without thinking, his eyes made their way down to her lips. The urge to touch them, feel them with his fingertips was almost too much. So instead, his hand sought her elbow and caressed the way up her arm until it closed around her fingers splayed on his chest.

“What if I don’t want it anymore? What if I’m afraid to get hurt again?” His voice a whisper in the night. Only for her to hear. He felt vulnerable but safe with her. His life somehow got lighter with her around.

Prim’s eyes were as gentle as her words. “‘The sun, with all those planets revolving around it and dependent on it, can still ripen a bunch of grapes as if it had nothing else in the universe to do.’” Her thumb caressed his, and her eyes fell to his chest. His hand easily curled around hers. “Galileo Galilei was a smart man.” Her eyes moved from their fingers to his lips and to his tired eyes. “Love cannot be stopped. You can deny it, run from it, but never not feel it.” She sighed, averting her eyes to the stars again. “It is one of the most precious gifts from nature to humans. I hope one day all of you will understand it.”

When she took her hand away from his chest, he lamented the loss of her warmth. When she rested her cheeks on his shoulder again and rested her hand on his knee, he carefully pondered her words. It was the second time he had to admit that maybe she was right. Maybe he could be happy. Could be free. Maybe there was someone out there fit for him. His head touched hers, and his eyes sought the stars.

Prim had her eyes closed. Her chest ached for him. How could she make him understand he was worthy of being loved? That his future was his to grab and mold as he wanted? How could she show it to him when she didn’t know how? Maybe, and just maybe, she could learn how to do it while she helped him.

The night covered them with a natural blanket. Their bodies so close, they fell asleep in each other’s warmth. One word playing in their minds.

Maybe.

Thank you for reading!

Next chapter.

#rick flag #colonel rick flag #colonel flag #suicide squad #the suicide squad #dc #dceu #dc extended universe #ipê branco #ipe branco

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chickwiththepurpleguitar · 3 years

Note

It is I, here to Officially Request™ absolutely chaos All Named Characters Molina Family Board Game Night because honestly? The chaos needs to be freed.

THERE'S SO MUCH CHAOS I'M NOT SORRY.

Have the official sequel to this fic because when @screamin-amuseum requested the first part as "the whole gang + boardgame" I took that to mean All Named Characters playing board games and so here's that continuation. It's so unnecessarily long. It's so unnecessarily angsty??? TW for mentions of Trevor with an eating disorder, nothing graphic though.

I don't know what else to say. This is really chaotic. I can't write scenes with more than two people in them and yet this fic has 13. Hope you all enjoy.

Read on ao3 here:

Unfortunately, the Molinas’ extensive board game collection does not actually include Pretty Pretty Princess (it was just a tad bit before Julie’s time).

But on the bright side, she knows someone they can borrow it from. Even if Luke’s not happy about it.

“Why’d you have to invite him?” he complains the second Julie gets off the phone with Nick.

“Because—” Julie barely spares Luke a glance as she passes him on the way to the living room. “We’re borrowing his little sister’s board game.”

“So? That doesn’t mean he has to play it with us!”

Julie rolls her eyes. “Luke, are you seriously still jealous of him?”

Luke lets out an indignant squawk. “I am not jealous . I just don’t like him!” He poofs out and back in again to cut Julie off in the doorway, and she stops out of instinct, never quite sure these days if she’ll end up walking through the boys or into them. “Julie, in case you’ve forgotten, we’re talking about a kid who was literally possessed by Caleb five minutes ago. And you want us to hang out with him? You want to bring him into your house? Where you live? To play Pretty Pretty Princess? ”

Julie gives him the most exasperated look she can muster, trying to ignore the smile threatening to tug at her lips. “Luke. First of all, Nick’s already been to my house, so that argument is invalid. Second, he’s not possessed by Caleb anymore, and the fact that he used to be is only more reason for us to offer him some extra friendship, I’m sure he needs it. And third, I already invited him, he’s on his way, and not even your pouting and puppy dog eyes can change that, so don’t even bother trying.”

Of course, Luke immediately breaks out the pout and the puppy dog eyes, but Julie doesn’t let herself so much as look at him. She pushes past him and continues through to the kitchen, shaking her head in amusement as Luke’s annoyed grumbling fades out behind her.

Her dad’s at the kitchen counter, just hanging up his own phone. He turns when Julie enters and offers her a small smile. “Takeout’s on its way. And your tía’s coming, with her own set of dice, so be prepared for those to be loaded.”

Julie giggles. “Well, I called Flynn and they’re gonna bring some sodas and snacks, and Nick’s bringing Pretty Pretty Princess since the boys were so excited to play it. It’s still cool that he comes, too, right?”

“Of course, mija.” Her dad looks at her for a second, and then away, busies himself with wiping down the perfectly-clean counter. “Did you, uh… Did you maybe want to invite Carrie to join us?”

Julie sighs. “Dad, you know me and Carrie aren’t friends anymore.”

“No, yeah, I know.” He scrubs harder at an invisible speck of dirt. “I just thought it might be a nice gesture.”

Despite everything, Julie finds herself considering it. Sure, she and Carrie are still decidedly not friends , but… they’re not quite enemies anymore, either. It’s hard to be enemies with someone who helped you save your shared ex-love interest from an evil jazz-singing magician ghost. Carrie knows about the guys now and didn’t expose Julie and the Phantoms as a fraud, and she hasn’t been as actively mean to Julie and Flynn at school the past few months.

Maybe someday, the three of them will be able to reconcile, officially. Julie might even want to. But that doesn’t mean she’s ready to have Carrie in her house so soon, doesn’t mean she wants to include Carrie in their first family game night without her mom.

“Maybe another time,” she says, offering her dad a soft smile so he knows she means it.

He smiles back, and there’s more relief and happiness in his eyes than Julie would’ve expected under the circumstances, leaving Julie to wonder why her dad would care about her relationship with Carrie Wilson so much.

An hour later, everything’s all set up, and all the guests—ghost and human alike—have arrived. They’re all spread out across the various couches and floor space in Julie’s living room, all ten of them—Julie, her dad, Carlos, Tía Victoria, Luke, Alex, Reggie, Willie, Flynn, and Nick. The four ghosts are all sharing one couch, the four Molinas another, while Flynn and Nick lounge on the floor across the room because the ghosts still make Nick a little uncomfortable (though Julie’s unsure if that’s because of his stint with Caleb or because Luke won’t stop glaring at him).

Knowing Game Night, the seating arrangements won’t stay as they are for long, as the various games require space or privacy or the occasional team-up. Julie’s certain by the end of the night, her friends and family will all be mingling and getting along.

Since there are so many of them, they can’t follow the usual Game Night rules—everyone picks one game and they play through them all. If they tried, they’d be here all night, and half of them have to go to school tomorrow. So instead, the plan is this: Everyone’s name will go in a hat. Whoever wins each game picks a name out of the hat, and that person gets to pick the next game. They’ll play a total of five, or until midnight, whichever comes first.

The only caveat to this strategy is that they’re playing Pretty Pretty Princess first, and since that was technically Alex’s choice, his name’s not going in the hat (a fact Alex seems perfectly fine with).

Game Number One isn’t nearly as much of a disaster as Julie kind of expected it to be. It’s only a four player game, so they play in teams of two and three: Luke, Reggie, and Julie playing for the purple jewelry; Alex, Willie, and Flynn playing for the pink; Nick and Carlos for green; and Dad and Tía for blue. The only fight that breaks out is when Luke takes the black ring on purpose and then refuses to put it back the next turn; otherwise, the teams work together surprisingly well.

Somehow, despite Reggie’s earlier insistence that Alex is a PPP master, the adults win, and then they insist on splitting their winning jewelry between them even though it’s all sized to fit five-year-olds.

Just as Dad and Tía are celebrating their victory, and Julie and Carlos are having a telepathic brother-sister conversation about how their aunt must have rigged it, the doorbell rings.

“Ooh, I bet that’s the pizza,” Dad says, hauling himself to his feet. He keeps one hand on the tiny plastic crown on his head so it doesn’t fall off.

He looks ridiculous, between the crown, the singular clip-on earring, and the ring just barely stuck on the end of his pinky finger, but Julie manages to hold back her laughter as she stands and says, “I’ll help carry.”

Her dad beats her to the door, only because Reggie holds her back and tries to convince her not to let Luke have any pizza (to which Luke gives another indignant squawk and immediately starts bickering), so by the time Julie catches up with him, Dad’s already got the front door thrown open, and whatever’s on the porch to greet him has left him staring, wide-eyed, open-mouthed, and pale.

Like he’s seen a ghost or something.

“Dad?” Julie starts to say, but the word dies in her throat as she steps into view of the open door and sees none other than Carrie Wilson standing on her front porch.

Carrie looks nervous, and just as pale, as she stares back at Julie’s father, a clutch purse held in her white-knuckled hands.

Carrie says something, quietly enough that Julie thinks she might have imagined it, that sounds suspiciously like, “Hi, Papi,” and then her gaze flits behind him to Julie and her eyes widen. She clears her throat, straightens her shoulders, says louder, “Mr. Molina. Julie.”

“Hi, Carrie,” Dad says after a weirdly long pause, startling like he’s been struck. “What are—I didn’t—” He breaks off and glances at Julie over his shoulder, his expression screaming, I thought you weren’t going to invite her!

I didn’t! Julie shoots back, then trains a painfully plastic smile on her definitely-not-a-friend-but-not-quite-an-enemy. “Carrie, what are you doing here?”

“Sorry to interrupt, I—didn’t realize you had company…” She glances toward the driveway next to the house, where Nick parked his car. “I can leave.”

“No, don’t—It’s okay,” Dad assures her, a little too quickly for Julie’s liking. “What’s—did you need something?”

Carrie shifts her weight awkwardly from foot to foot, looking back and forth between Julie and her dad like she wants to ask Julie to give them some privacy. Julie just plants her feet and crosses her arms over her chest. Like hell is she gonna leave Carrie alone with her dad when he’s already acting weird and she still has yet to tell them what she’s doing there.

Julie doesn’t even remember the last time Carrie Wilson stepped foot on the Molinas’ property. It’s all too weird, like Julie’s stepped out of Family Game Night and into some strange, confusing alternate universe.

“Um… Okay, so, Dad and I were at this dumb charity event at Schaefer’s, and on the way back, our car broke down.” Carrie waves a vague hand toward the street. “Gerald—our driver—called someone, but Dad doesn’t trust mechanics, and I think it’s supposed to storm later, so…” She trails off, blushes, and adds, “We were only a block or so away so I thought…”

Julie’s not sure she’s following. Her dad must catch up quicker because he says, “Oh! Oh, well—well, you’re welcome to wait out the storm here, we’ve got food coming, we’re having a little game night. Why don’t you join us?”

He turns to look at Julie, almost as an afterthought, his gaze somehow pleading and apologetic at the same time.

Whatever frustration Julie might feel at his eagerness to let Carrie interfere with their lives despite knowing how Julie feels about her is quickly snuffed out by the look on her dad’s face, and the equally anxious look on Carrie’s.

Julie doesn’t like this. She doesn’t think putting her, Flynn, Nick, and Carrie in a competitive setting together is a good idea. She really doesn’t think putting Luke, Alex, Reggie, and Trevor Wilson in a competitive setting together is a good idea. She can think of very few scenarios in which this whole night doesn’t turn into a complete and total disaster.

But reconciliation has to start somewhere, and she does, deep down, want to be Carrie’s friend again someday, wants even more to help her boys get their bandmate back.

She takes a slow, deep breath, prays she won’t regret this, and says, “Of course, Carrie. Come join us for Game Night.”

Carrie visibly relaxes, something like a real, genuine smile fluttering around her lips. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll, um—I’ll go get Dad. He wanted to wait in the car, in case you guys… turned us away…”

Awkward silence falls, and Julie can’t understand why her dad looks so sad all of a sudden, but before she can think of how to ask, Carrie spins on her high heels and starts back down the porch steps.

The second the door closes behind her, Dad says, “I’m sorry, did I overstep?”

Julie sighs. Her dad’s always been particularly good with boundaries. And she thinks part of him might miss the days when Carrie was over more often than not, playing dolls and singing with Julie and Flynn. So Julie can’t be mad. “No, it’s okay. But you get to tell the guys the pizza’s not here yet, and the guy who stole all their songs is.”

His eyes widen in horror, only adding to the absurdity of his bejeweled look, and Julie stifles another laugh as she heads back to the living room.

All things considered, it’s not nearly as much of a trainwreck as Julie thought it might be. Flynn loudly declares that she will not be on a team with Carrie under any circumstances, and the guys don’t take the Trevor news well , exactly, but a sharp look from Julie and a badly whispered promise from Willie to do some serious ghost pranking later keep them from actively pitching a fit about it.

When the Wilsons and their driver Gerald arrive, the tension in the room grows so instantly thick and awkward that Julie’s worried someone might actually explode. Carrie breaks it by stalking confidently into the room and plopping herself on the floor between Nick and Carlos like she belongs there. Gerald soon follows, claiming a chair next to Tía Victoria, and smiles politely at them all.

Only Trevor remains hovering in the doorway, pale and shaky, taking deep meditative breaths as his eyes rove across each person one at a time, lingering a little too long on Julie’s aunt, skipping over Luke entirely. Finally, he swallows, winces like it hurts, and says to Julie’s dad, “I didn’t realize you still did these.”

Julie frowns, unsure what that’s supposed to mean exactly, but her dad offers up no explanation, just waves Trevor over to sit on the couch with him. Luke lays a gentle hand on Julie’s knee, leans in close to whisper, “Hey. You okay?”

She gives him a grateful smile, nods. “Fine. How about you?”

Luke shrugs, glances over at Trevor, who’s still very purposefully not looking in their direction, and winks at Julie. “Let’s just cream this guy, shall we?”

And so, Game Night continues.

The three new guests’ names get added to the hat, and Victoria shuffles them around before pulling a slip of paper out.

“Carrie,” she reads. “You get to pick the next game.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Carrie tries. “I just got here, someone else can pick.”

“Come on, Care,” Nick says, nudging her encouragingly. “Them’s the rules.”

“Your name came out of the hat,” Julie agrees, attempting a smile. It’s the closest she can get to a peace offering. “Pick a game.”

Carrie scans her face a moment, like she’s searching for any hint that Julie’s being mean or ingenuine. She must not find any, because she says, “Okay,” and gets to her feet, brushing invisible dust off her skirt. She peers into the game cabinet for a total of about five seconds before she says, “Oh my god, you still have Monopoly with the credit card readers? We are definitely playing that.”

“Dibs on banker!” Carlos shouts and jumps to his feet to dig the box out of the cabinet.

Julie grins at her little brother’s enthusiasm, and when she catches Carrie’s eye, her smile doesn’t fade.

Maybe they can do this. It’s as good a first step toward reconciliation as any, she supposes.

The pizza arrives while Carrie and Carlos are setting up the Monopoly board, so Julie and her dad bring it in and set up the stack of boxes on the kitchen island for easy access. The ghosts immediately descend on the food like a pack of rabid animals, Luke grabbing four or five slices at once and starting to stuff them in his mouth before Julie shouts, “Plates, boys! Plates!” and he deflates, grinning bashfully at her.

Once everyone who wants pizza has gotten some (Gerald takes a slice, Trevor and Carrie don’t—Julie remembers vaguely that the Wilsons were never big fans of take-out in general), they work out new teams, which leads to less bloodshed than Julie expected but takes way longer than it has any right to. Finally, they figure out a breakdown that everyone’s more or less happy with, despite now having an uneven number of players: Trevor, Gerald, Dad, and Tía; Carlos, Luke, and Reggie; Alex, Willie, and Flynn; and Carrie, Nick, and Julie.

It’s a chaotic game for sure, but no one outright attacks each other, so Julie counts it as a success. And her team wins, so.

The rest of the night goes like that, one game after another. Julie picks Willie’s name, Willie picks Mario Kart, Carlos wins. Carlos picks Gerald’s name, Gerald picks poker (“Oh my god, my driver’s a gambler,” Trevor sighs into his hands), and somehow Flynn smokes them all. For the last game, Flynn picks Luke’s name, Luke picks Candy Land because he’s actually eight years old, and Flynn and Carrie manage to eke out a victory despite being on the same team and bickering the entire game.

Luke and Trevor, also on the same team, don’t say a single word to each other, but Julie doesn’t miss how a smile tugs at Luke’s lips when Trevor makes a joke about Lord Licorice looking like their high school English teacher.

Gerald gets a call just as they’re finishing up and informs them that the broken down limo’s been towed away and one of his colleagues is there with a fresh car to take the Wilsons home.

“Perfect timing,” Dad says, clapping his hands together. “I’ll walk you out.”

Once they’re gone, Nick and Flynn soon follow. Julie thanks Nick profusely for letting them borrow his sister’s game and convinces him to take some of the leftover pizza home to his family. Tía kisses them all goodnight (including the ghosts, which leaves Reggie grinning and the rest of them bright red), and then she’s out the door too, and Carlos heads up to bed, and Willie poofs out, telling Alex they’ll catch him later, leaving just Julie alone with her Phantoms.

“That was actually really fun,” she says, leaning back into the couch.

“Next time, I think we should choose teams at the beginning and stick with them all night,” Luke suggests, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “More fun that way.”

Alex plops onto the couch on Luke’s other side. “But if we play Pretty Pretty Princess again, I’m not playing on your team, bro.”

“Yeah, man,” Reggie agrees, snuggling up under Julie’s arm. “We coulda won that game if you’d just put the black ring away. ”

“It made me look awesome!” Luke insists.

“And the purple one didn’t?”

Alex lets out a dramatic sigh as Luke and Reggie break into an argument over Julie’s head. She just rolls her eyes and tries not to giggle too audibly, though it’s hard when her boys are so lovingly silly.

When she looks up, her dad’s lingering in the doorway, watching the four of them and playing a little nervously with his hands.

Julie frowns, catches his gaze, and mouths, You okay?

He nods, smiles, but looks from her to the three ghost boys cuddled up next to her and back again. Julie instantly catches his meaning.

“Hey, guys,” she says, loud enough to be heard over Luke and Reggie’s bickering. They shut up right away. “I’m gonna help my dad clean up. Can you go wait in the studio for me, and we can rehearse a bit before I go to bed?”

“Oh, yeah,” the boys say, and “Yeah, sure, Julie,” and they all hug her and wave goodnight to her dad before disappearing with a gentle displacement of air.

Julie gets to her feet as her dad joins her in the living room. He sets his phone on top of the game cabinet and plays a Celia Cruz album her mom liked.

They work in companionable silence for a while, other than the music, counting all the cards and tokens and jewelry pieces to make sure everything’s accounted for and gets back into its proper box.

As Julie’s wrapping up the Mario Kart controllers, her dad says casually, “You have fun tonight?”

“Yeah,” she says, and finds she means it. “Yeah, you know, it wasn’t quite the same as playing with Mom, but I still had a really good time. Thanks for letting everyone come over.”

“Thank you for being such a good sport about Carrie. I know she wasn’t exactly part of your plan for how the night would go.”

“No,” Julie agrees, shutting the game cabinet. “But I kinda liked having her here. Although—can I ask you something?”

Dad grabs his phone to pause the music. “Of course, mija. What is it?”

Something’s been nagging at her all evening, but now that Julie actually has the opportunity to ask about it, she’s not quite sure how to put her question into words.

Finally, she manages, “When Mr. Wilson first got here, he said something like… like he didn’t know we still had game nights. But I don’t remember him ever playing with us when Mom was alive.”

Her dad doesn’t answer for a really long time. Julie knows him well enough to know she needs not be concerned—her dad, much more than her mom, has always needed to really take his time and think before he says anything, especially anything important. Finally, he sighs and says, “Honestly, mija… I’m not quite sure what to say. It’s not really my story to tell.” He sits on one of the couches and pats the cushion next to him. Julie joins him, hugging a throw pillow as she waits patiently for him to continue.

“Do you remember, when you were really little, Trevor and Carrie used to live with us?”

Julie’s mouth drops open. “What? No. When?”

“Only until you were about six,” Dad explains. “But for a while, we had a house together, the five and then six of us, once Carlos was born. Your mom and I, and Trevor, we all kind of raised you kids together.” He elbows her teasingly. “You used to call Trevor Daddy.”

“I definitely don’t remember that,” Julie says, eyes wide in horror.

His smile fades, face turning serious. “I think Carrie does,” he says softly, and Julie remembers when Carrie first got here tonight, how she called Julie’s dad Papi , so quietly Julie thought she’d imagined it.

“Anyway,” he continues, “before all that, before Trevor was even… Trevor … he lived with your mom and me, and he was going through a really rough time, had a lot of trouble with food because, well…”

“Because food killed his best friends…” Julie realizes.

“We used to play board games with him, after dinner, when things were hard. It kept him distracted, made it easier to keep things down. That was the real start of Molina Family Game Night.”

“Huh,” Julie breathes. “Well then, next time? I want to invite him and Carrie for real.”

Taglist: @whenweremarried @sunsethimb0s @pink-flame @penguin0613 @fighttoshine @sunsetcurvecuddles @apples-bees @reggiescrookedteeth @brightattheorpheum @queenmolina @jandthephantoms @lexilucacia @sapphossidechick @acnhaddict @shrimp-colours @sunset-bobby @lenacarstairspotterstewart @conversationaltreestump @burntchromas @shellydominique

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfiction #reggie peters #my fics #fanfiction #luke patterson #julie molina #ray molina #carlos molina #alex mercer #willie nolastname #flynn nolastname #nick danforth evans #carrie wilson #trevor wilson #tia victoria

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vivian24l · 3 years

Text

Dream

“I remember that day clearly, my last birthday with them. Father knows I hate large gatherings, yet he threw me a big party anyways. Everyone showed up. The Leaguers, the original Leaguers, the Titans, my friends and family.

I didn’t appreciate it back then. Now I can only look back and wish I could experience it once more. Wish I could see them once more, happy, together, not having to worry about an ongoing war.

I remember racing my cousins. I wish I hadn’t cheated in that race. Uncle Jon said Mother had used the same trick when they were kids. I practiced magic with Tiago and the Constantines. I remember Aunt Kori pulling me into an unbreakable hug. She had told me I’m growing to be just like my mother.

I used to look like her. Both with purple eyes and purple hair. My skin had more color. Now I look nothing like her. I no longer have her purple eyes, but green like Father’s, my hair has become a brighter shade of purple.

I miss them. Father gave me a silver dagger that day. He never lets me play with sharp objects, we only used wooden sticks when training. Mother gifted me with a spell book, it contained a vast collection of spells ranging from beginners to highly advanced. I lost both of them. The only things I have left of my parents, lost, gone forever. I long for them to return. My parents and their gifts.

I wish for all of them to return. Not just my parents but everyone. I wished this never happened, I wish the war never started. I wish I had been more grateful for all that they have done for me.”

“Do you remember the day they left you at that place? That place that was supposed to be remote, guarded, and free of any upcoming parademon attack?” he asked the young girl.

“How could I not? That was the day I lost them. That was the day they left.

Grandmother Talia greeted us at the harbor of Infinity Island. I didn’t know, back then, that it was the last time I'd see them. They told me I’ll be staying with Grandmother for a while, I didn’t think of asking how long. Then they hugged me. I missed that. I missed the way they’d cover me in their warm embrace. The way Father wraps his arm around both me and mother. I caught a shimmer of a tear from the corner of Mother's eyes. I felt their sadness. It was when I saw that tear slip, that I knew something was wrong. When I felt Father fighting to keep his posture, his stoic manner, that was when I knew I would be there for longer than ‘a while’. I wish I could’ve told them how much I loved them, I wished I could’ve given them one last hug,” she closed her eyes. “But I didn’t. I didn’t because I was a dumb eight year old who didn’t know what to do.”

“Do you remember the day you died? The day those hybrids took you down? The day you visited me in my realm and left to rejoin the living? The day you left something very valuable behind?” he asked.

“Why are you asking me these questions?” she asked miserably.

He smiled. “Because Granddaughter, it is good to learn from the past, to take the pain and turn it into strength. Now, tell me of that day.”

“I-I remember running to the courtyard. There were screams coming from outside. An assassin crashed through the window, his legs were gone. I was...horrified, yet I kept going. I was stupid, thinking I could help. When I reached the courtyard, I saw corpses everywhere. Ripped up and severed. Grandmother and her elite archers were shooting down the creatures. My uncle calls them Paradooms. Parademons mixed with Kryptonian DNA. Grandmother’s supply of kryptonite-infused weapons was running low. I thought I was strong enough. I summoned beams of energy. I kept using magic until I had no energy left. I kept going. I should’ve stopped. I continued to fight. Picking up a stray sword with a kryptonite blade. It cut through plenty of monsters. Then Grandmother called my name. It was as if time slowed down. Her face contorted to horror, an emotion I have never seen her express. I felt a wave of emotions coming from her. Yet, nothing from myself. The pain was so bad, it felt like nothing. My vision had begun to blur when I noticed the sharp point of a claw emerging from my chest. I remember the paradoom falling as I laid on the ground. Grandmother rushed to my side. She told me not to worry. Then I came here. To this place you call home.”

“I never see this hellish realm as home. I am a conqueror of worlds, I focus on establishing and controlling new frontiers.”

“TT. We can agree that we have very different interests, Grandfather.”

“Indeed.”

“Now, I must ask. Why are you here? Why am I here? Why have you called upon me?”

“I am here to remind you. It takes a lot of energy to escape that prison in your mother’s head to visit you in your dream. This location is where your subconscious wants you to be, because deep down you know where to go. You know how to end this. You blame the Lazarus Pit for your loss of powers, but have you really lost your powers?” He gave her an amused smile, knowing the young girl was conflicted.

“Yes. No! I don’t know! I can still feel emotions, I can feel energy within me, but I can’t access it. I can’t perform a single spell, not even the simplest,” she confessed.

“The Pit is supposed to revive and strengthen the one of dips in it, that is if they are able to control the evil temptations of the Pit. You, Granddaughter, were already powerful. You still are. The Pit boosted your abilities, but you haven’t brought them back with you.”

“You’re saying...that I left my powers in Hell?” Rashida asked skeptically.

“What else could I be saying, dear?”

“What’s it in for you? Why are you helping me?”

“Because I would like to conquer Earth. I shall not let that weak, ‘New God’ destroy this planet before I do. Besides, I need a body to inhabit once I break free. Your mother won’t last, she is already weak.”

This got Rashida’s attention. “Then how do I get my powers back? How can I get to Hell without dying?”

“Hm. I’m sure that spellbook of yours would be useful. Once the proper ritual is performed, you should be able to enter and exit that realm.”

“But, I’ve lost it. The book was burned during the first paradoom attack.”

“You are the granddaughter of Trigon. The granddaughter of the first Batman, Bruce Wayne. The great granddaughter of Ra’s Al Ghul. The granddaughter of Talia Al Ghul. The daughter of Raven, the Queen of Hell. The daughter of Damian Al Ghul Wayne, the current Batman. You have a powerful heritage. I expect you to live up to your blood.” He gave her an expectant look. “And let’s not forget that family that took in your mother when you first came to Earth, the Kryptionians,” he added.

“Bart explained this to me the other day, something about a multiverse. The book is lost in this world. It no longer exists in this universe. However, there are many alternate universes, different worlds out there. If I’m able to locate the right one, I should be able to get that book”

Trigon smiled. “Correct, my dear. Now, time is running short. I suggest you make haste.”

Rashida looked up from her internal thoughts. “Wait, what do you mean by that?”

But it was too late. Her surroundings have begun to shift. Trigon had swirled into a translucent black shadow and disappeared through the cracks of the room. She no longer sat in the obsidian chair in the Underworld’s throne room. Instead Rashida sat up with a jolt in her uncle’s base. Her head was beaded with sweat. She left the little room, which she had claimed to be her sleeping quarter. Jason was still asleep in front of his computer. Judging by the position of the sun in the cloudy red sky, it was late in the morning.

Artemis looked up from her daily ritual of sword sharpening. “Good morning, kid.”

“Why did you let me sleep in?” asked Rashida.

“Last night was rough. I thought you needed the rest,” she glanced at Jason and Roy, who was still asleep on the worn down couch. Artemis held up a tin can. “Pineapples?”

Rashida accepted the fruit. “How did you get your hands on pineapples?”

Artemis shrugged. “Oh, you know. Quinn and her buddies were in the area.”

Rashida took a bite of the diced pineapples. “I have to say, I envy them. They get to do the cool stuff like infiltrating LexCorp. While, we’re stuck fighting off the parademons and thugs.”

“This’ll be over soon. And then, you can do the cool “infiltrating” stuff as well,” assured the Amazon.

#damian x raven #rashidawayne #apokolipswar #damirae #demonbirds #trigon #dreams #multiverse #damiraekid #this is the start #Outlaws #Rae’s with her fave uncle #War #childhood #damiraefankid

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