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celtic-crossbow · 7 months

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Bring Us Back to the Heroes We Were

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Wife!Reader

Setting: France

Summary: Daryl loses his temper with Laurent and you are having none of it.

Warnings: SPOILERS, Yelling at a child, mild violence against a spouse

A/N: That scene was emotional. I felt it in my soul. morgan556 suggested this and I had to go with it!

You had admittedly lagged behind when Daryl and Laurent had walked away to the waiting boat. Azlan had been so kind to both you and Daryl, smiling and welcoming. He had shared his stories and his wisdom. Even so far from home, you felt less alone in his company.

You knelt and placed a trembling hand on the fresh pile of dirt. “We’ll get him there. I promise.” Sniffling, you wiped at your face. You turned once, thinking you heard Daryl’s voice but he’d have to be yelling for you to hear him from there. When you heard it again, you were on your feet in an instant, bolting toward the river. That was definitely Daryl.

“You stupid little shit!” Daryl was leaned into Laurent’s space, fury radiating from him in waves so strong, you lost your breath for a moment. “Do ya know what ya’ve done?!”

“Daryl!” You dropped your bag and ran toward them, your own rage bubbling to the surface the minute your husband’s fingers came in contact with the kids’ jacket.

“Ya think you’re so goddamn smart! Worthless!”

“That is enough!” You grabbed both of his forearms and squeezed, making sure your nails bit into skin. He was bigger and stronger than you, but you had to get him to let go somehow. Placing yourself between him and Laurent, you shoved Daryl back hard, but he stepped into you and leaned around to point a finger in the kid’s face. “I should’a left ya right where I found ya! What do we do with ya now?!”

“Stop it!” You shoved him again and when he came back, your palm met his cheek with enough force to whip his head to the side. “Get yourself under control! No matter what he did, he is a child! A fucking child! Calm the fuck down!”

The slap seemed to have made him take a breath, his voice much lower when he pointed to Laurent again. “I wanna know why. Why would ya do this?”

Barely containing your wrath, you looked over your shoulder. “Laurent, why would you cut loose the boat?” While your head was turned, Daryl shoved past you and grabbed the kid again.

“Why?! Tell me why?!”

You grabbed the back of Daryl’s jacket and yanked, nearly throwing him off his feet while you placed yourself between him and Laurent. “Try it again, Dixon. I dare you. If you think I will let you—”

“Everyone I care about is gone.” Laurent’s broken voice had you turning, his tear-filled eyes flickering between you and your husband. “When we get to the Nest, you’ll both go, too.”

“Laurent.” You said gently.

“I don’t wanna be alone.”

You didn’t hesitate to pull the boy into your arms, burying your face in his hair and letting him cry. When you saw movement in your peripheral, you turned your head to see Daryl reaching for Laurent, his expression softened, those blue eyes shining. You only spared him a warning look before allowing him to pull the kid to him much as you had done.

“Yeah. C’mere. I didn’t mean it.” He placed his chin on the dark mop of hair, shaking his head. “It’s gonna be alright.” He let Laurent step back, the boy’s eyes searching the both of you for reassurance.

“It’s alright.” You smiled gently, wiping away a tear from his cheek with your thumb.

“C’mon.” Daryl picked up your bag with his own and held it out of you. You snatched it from his grasp with a sneer, glancing over your shoulder to see Laurent staring at the empty spot where the boat once sat.

You pointed back and forth between you and your husband. “You and me. We ain’t done.” You spun on your heel and wrapped an arm around the boy, setting off on foot to follow the river.

You heard Daryl’s quiet grumble of “yes, ma’am” behind you before you could hear him following.

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aph-mable · 9 months

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dpxdc; My Uncle is Nuts.

My Uncle Is A Nut

Written by:

Aph-mable

@thegatorsgoose

Having been announced the heir and Co ceo of D.A.L.V co, Danny has gotten used to being dragged to formal events with Vlad against his will. Getting caught up in saving one of the many galas he’s forced to attend, Danny catches the eye of one Lex Luther.

Chapter 1

Danny tries hard not to sigh for the umpteenth time as Vlad drags him towards another group of rich folks and reporters.

When his Godfather had publicly announced Danny as his heir during one of his mayoral speeches he thought he was going to die all over again from sheer embarrassment and frustration, especially when he started calling Danny out of class to work on ‘special’ projects or drag him to Gala’s like this one.

Usually at least one member of team Phantom would come along, usually Sam since her parents often forced her to attend anyway, unfortunately this time everyone was busy.

Sure Danny could have asked, but he didn’t want to take away what little free time they had during spring break, so for now he was going to face this party on his own. After all nothing really interesting happens at these and he’s not going to end up socializing much anyways.

At the moment Vlad had rolled him over to a group of men who were chatting away about their latest technology, a nerdy looking yet buff reporter taking notes on everything.

Danny was only half listening to what was being said when the frootloop budged in, something about wanting to partner up with Wayne tech since DALV co was already partnered with Lex co.

He could only roll his eyes and cringe as his crazy arch nemesis wrapped an arm around the shoulders of the bald ceo who looked just as done as he felt.

Seeing Vlad finally to distracted with his deals Danny took his chance and snuck away, moving his wheelchair as fast as possible to make a break for it, away from the party and to explore the building. maybe even escape if he was lucky.

Unfortunately as he reached one of the doors the pesky security stopped him, saying he needed to stay within the building, so he pulled out the oldest trick in his book.

“I have to go to the bathroom, can you at least point me to it?” He even pulled out his pleading eyes to look as innocent as possible to make the security guards feel uncomfortable.

“It’s through those doors over there, just across from the kitchen… do you want-” before the guard could finish Danny was already zooming to the door and shouting, “No thanks, byye!”

Once out of sight he at least made an effort to head towards where the bathroom was but stopped in front of the kitchen.

First double checking all sides of the hallway, he pushed himself into the kitchen in search of something to tinker with. Danny swears he will drop dead if he doesn't get some kind of technology in his hands.

When he entered the place was completely empty of any staff. makes sense as they had set up a huge buffet in the main hall and had all the kitchen staff stand against the wall to show who cooked what, like it was some kind of grand show.

This left Danny to ‘borrow’ a few appliances, they’re rich they can afford it!

He ends up taking a toaster, a blender, and some kind of cylinder air fryer, stuffing them all into his magic bigger-than-it-looks bag and bolting out of there as fast as his wheels could take him so as to not get caught.

Once he re enters the gala he parks himself in the furthest corner near a window. He starts pulling out his mini tool kit and the items he took, trying his best to hide them by making them semi invisible so it just looked like he was messing with his tools as he gets to building an ecto gun.

Danny tried to stay alert and scan the room on occasion but nothing much was happening, Vlad was still bragging to the group of men, and there were only three other kids around his age hanging out on the opposite side of the room. One looked ready to pass out while the other two stood next to the door arguing over who’s dog was best.

Danny pulled his goggles down over his eyes and rolled up his sleeves so his specialized gloves could start putting power into the ecto gun. He quickly starts to hyper focus as he tinkered with the homemade gun, his mind drifting off to play among stars that were just out of reach.

Even with everyone talking around him it all faded to white noise, finally quiet enough he now focused his power to flow through the machinery as he twisted the screws into the right place.

His very core sang with how peaceful it was as he finished making the home made ecto gun and set it down in his lap.

Just as Danny turns it invisible to put it away, his chair is suddenly jerked as he’s dragged towards the now frightened guests, a group of men dressed in green and purple question marked suits threaten everyone into a corner as they start setting up strange equipment.

Clutching his invisible weapon tightly in his lap one of the goons tries threatening him with a gun, but before Danny could react Vlad steps in front of Danny, letting out an instinctual growl to make them back off.

The goon rolls his eyes before directing them to where he wants them to go, trying hard to not let his hands shake too badly as he thrust more people into the now overcrowded corner, keeping watchful eyes on Vlad who is seconds away from losing his temper and ripping someone's throat out.

Now most people in this situation would just listen to their captors, sit still, be quiet, all that jazz, especially with how many of the goons were now bringing in strange green canisters of gas that gave off the scent of pure fear.

Yet as Danny rams Vlad’s ankles with the wheels of his chair it's pretty clear he wasn’t like most scared civilians. For once he was siding with his godfather as he was very, very angry. Angry that they were targeting innocent people, angry that Vlad was treating him like he was helpless, angry that he had to show up to this stupid gala in the first place… He had noticed some of the other kids giving them the slip earlier, at least there’s that.

Just as they bring in the last canister one of the goons trips and nearly brakes open the container, which got the already annoyed second incharge to yell at them.

“For fucks sake! Be careful with those things, we don’t even know what they’ll do yet!”

The younger looking goon, who looks barely out of their teens, shrinks away as they whimper out an apology. He sets the items down as others around them either stare in frustration or sympathy.

Yeah, no.

“Wow you people are pathetic.”

The second in command turns at Danny’s outburst, taking a step forward and clenching his fists. “What the fuck did you just say?” Danny rolls his eyes before glaring at the goon “I said you’re pathetic, did you get that or do you need me to repeat myself again?”

The crowd looks on in half horror, half shock as the leader walks up to Danny, resting his hands on his arm rests and leaning down to stare at Danny threateningly. Danny leans back in his wheelchair and looks up at him with a bored expression, unphased. Vlad tries to shove his way to Danny, but is held back by several goons. Danny spares a quick glare at his godfather, he has everything under control.

“I may be a criminal, but even I don’t like kicking a kid when they’re already down.” The goon says, moving his eyes down to glance at Danny’s wheelchair and back up again, glaring into his eyes. “So I’m going to give you one last chance to take that back.”

Danny narrows his eyes at the goon as he clutchs the invisible ecto gun in his lap, it’s now or never. With near inhuman speed he quickly reaches for his bag and pretends to pull the weapon out, aiming it right at the goons temple. There’s audible gasps from the crowd as the goon stumbles away with wide eyes before gaining his footing and going right back to glaring.

“And I’m going to give you one last chance to reconsider what you’re doing with your life” Danny smirks at the goon, already reading up the lecture in his head.

“It’s 30 minutes past start time, what is taking you so-“ Danny’s smirk evolves into a full shit eating grin as the Riddler walks in to scold the goons, what perfect timing.

With the crowd distracted Danny uses his other hand to unlock his phone. With a few simple swipes, Danny has the gala on lockdown. With the main asshole inside.

Perfect.

_____________________________________________________________

Damian puts on his Robin suit with trained proficiency once they make it to the cave. Unfortunately he and Jon were the only ones able to leave on time, the rest of the family having been dragged away. Truly, this proved that he had good reason to not mingle with the crowd. It had nothing to do with the noise. Or the lights. Or the small talk.

Truly.

“Who do you think it is this time?” Jon asks, an excited smile on his face. But even while being carried, Damian could see the tension in his frame, the nervous tick in his brow. His friend was worried. “I mean, they have the question mark thing going on, but they also had the gas canisters which I don't think the Riddler does that? And the gas itself kinda smelled like lavender and hazelnuts like fear gas but it was also kinda minty? And not like candy cane minty but like straight mint leaf minty? I don’t know, I only know there’s a difference cus ma tried to make mint tea that one time cus she was super sleep deprived and she read online that mint tea could improve memory or something, that stuff reeked!” Another indication of Jon’s nervousness, rambling. By the time Jon had finished his rant, they had already made it to the gala.

Once he’s put down Damian dusts himself off and turns to Jon. “It is most likely a team up, then.” He pulls out his katanas and readys himself for the fight ahead. “Once you break down the door our job is to stall long enough for the others to get out. We don’t know what the gas can do, so keeping the containers safe is our top priority.” As much as it pains him to admit, just him and Jon won’t be enough to handle it themselves. There’s too many people, and they need some of the bats to disperse around Gotham in case the riddler has set up a larger plan.

Jon smiles at him and nods, hopping from foot to foot in excitement (which he doesn’t find adorable at all). “You ready?” Damian gives a sharp nod before Jon kicks in the door.

“-I mean COME ON, people would PAY you to have a chance at your game show! You could even do your whole “riddle me this!” Thing as it’s own segment! But noOOOOooo, you wanna risk the lives of countless civilians so you can get a fucking furry to answer your stupid riddles, most of which aren’t even original! And NOW you wanna partner up with a fear junky cus why?”

“I-“ a clearly startled Riddler tries to answer before being interrupted.

“Oh yeah, cus your BUDDY, your PAL scarecrow, thought it would be so FUNNY to release an UNTESTED gas in a gala for a fucking THRILL HIGH.”

But instead of a fight they walk into.. this.

A wheelchair bound boy with black hair and blue eyes (who he’s sure his siblings would call “adoption bait”) holding a strange silver and green gun that looked straight out of one of Damian’s sci-fi mangas, at a confused and startled Riddler. It seems the crowd used this as an opportunity, as the rest of the goons were restrained near the walls by a mix of his family, Kent, and various gala attendees, while the middle of the room was occupied by the armed boy.

“Huh?” Jon let his arms rest at his sides as his head tilted to the side in confusion (it does NOT remind him of a confused puppy, absolutely not). However before Damian could say anything, it seems the boy has finally noticed them.

“Oh, you’re here. Took you long enough.” The boy finally puts the gun down and into a bag at his side. “Have fun.” He says in a bored tone as he turns and starts pushing himself in the direction of a man with silver hair, Vlad Masters, who met him in the middle only to start fussing over him, seemingly much to the boy’s annoyance.

Finally shaking off their shock both Damian and Jon rush to detain the Riddler until the police show up, yet Damian’s curiosity keeps bringing his eyes back to Master’s and his ward. outwardly, the concern seemed genuine, but with how the boy was reacting to just being touched by Master’s… made him think otherwise.

Even Lex Luthor was side eyeing the man instead of resuming his chatter with father or Mr. Kent, meaning something was happening and Damain was determined to find it out one way or another.

For now though, they have their hands full because of Riddler and Scarecrow.

Domain knew he should have stayed back with Ace.

____________________________________________________________________________

End of chapter 1

#dyslexia #long reads #batfamily #bruce wayne #clark kent #disabled danny #wheelchair au #jon kent #damian wayne #the riddler #scarecrow #patrol partners event 2023 #mild violence #swearing #dpxdc #autistic writers

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suppose-i-was-worm · 10 days

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Like the Beat of a Drum pt 2

**I'm not entirely happy about this, and have NO clue where it's going next, but we'll see!**

The Red Hood clocked Danny as not all he seemed as soon as they were alone together. After some negotiation (Danny threatening to vanish into thin air and Hood threatening to tell Red Robin), they came to a consensus.

Danny would be in human form unless one of the other bats were around, and Hood would keep his big mouth shut.

“No spooky supernatural stuff in my borough, kid.”

Danny decided not to tell the other man that he himself had a fair bit of spooky supernatural stuff going on.

He should probably keep an eye on that- Corrupted ectoplasm was never a good thing, and Red Hood was crawling with it.

Living in Crime Alley was easy. Hood had put him up in a dingy little apartment, fully stocked with anything he might need- and no surveillance equipment. Danny had checked. He spent his time while he finished the healing process taking the toaster apart. And the microwave.

Hood visited while he was arms deep in the oven and put a kibosh on larger appliances, but he started bringing small broken appliances around for Danny to fix. It was nice, having another undead hanging around. Someone who understood the constant itch under Danny’s skin to keep moving, keep working, keep reminding himself he was alive.

He even was finally able to see his soulmark! It was a name, somebody called Timothy Drake-Wayne. Hood had seen it and made some sort of choking noise, and when Danny asked, he was told that Drake-Wayne was publicly markless. Weird.

Danny was pleased that the wounds to the area had healed completely though, not marring the text at all.

The wound on his chest, not so much. It stood out, inflamed and sore against his otherwise pale chest. Its presence reminded him a little of the lichtenberg scars that crawled down his arms in his ghost form.

Maybe the Drs. Fenton had somehow killed him again, and now he was a halfa twice over? This was his penance, he supposed, for trusting them after everything.

~~~

Tim’s favorite coffee shop was packed, save for one table with a lone occupant. Once he’d gotten his deathwish coffee, he made his way over to the table.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I-“

The table’s occupant, a young man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes, nodded toward the other chair before Tim could finish his sentence.

“Feel free, man. It’s a busy day today.”

Tim couldn’t help but wonder where he’d seen the other before- his face was familiar in a strange way, and he felt- he felt surprisingly attracted.

His soulmate heartbeat thing had been unusually quiet since the night Phantom arrived, whereas before it sounded loud and clear in his head at least a few times a day and long into the night.

He was allowed to talk to cute people while his soulmate was still young, right?

“Spend a lot of time here?”

The stranger shrugged.

“Here and there. Haven’t run into you before, which I think I would have noticed. I’m Danny, by the way.”

Tim didn’t think much of the name. This young man was far too old to be his Daniel.

“Nice to meet you, Danny. I’m Tim.”

He reached out a hand, and Danny shook it firmly, giving him an odd look that quickly passed.

The two of them sat and chatted for a while, and Tim found himself wondering how he’d missed this person around Gotham- he was well spoken with a soft accent, whip smart, and gorgeous.

Tim’s watch buzzed, reminding him he had a meeting- he could have sworn he had two hours between his coffee run and his meeting, but perhaps he’d been chatting too long.

“Shit! I have to go- it was nice meeting you!”

He chugged the rest of his now-cold coffee and darted out of the coffee shop.

It wasn’t until after the shareholder’s meeting that he realized he hadn’t asked for Danny’s number.

~~~

“Hood!”

Jason looked up from his desk as his office door was flung open, and then watched in amusement as Danny scrambled out of the grasp of the goon trying to pull him away.

“Sorry Boss, he slipped by us! I’ll- OW! He bites!”

“Stand down, Marcus, he’s a friend. Head over to medical if you need to- the little shit’s feral.”

Grumbling, the goon let go of a smug looking Danny and made his way to the other door while Danny swanned into the office and made himself comfortable on Hood’s guest chairs.

“How did you find this place?”

Shrugging, the kid pretended to inspect his nails.

“You know, just followed the scent of daddy issues and rancid ectoplasm- not hard. Didn’t peg you for the office type, though.”

Jason leaned back, crossing his arms.

“What do you want.”

“Timothy Drake-Wayne is Red Robin, yes?”

Trying to keep his posture casual and unconcerned, Jason tilted his head.

“What makes you say that?”

“I met a guy named Tim at the coffee shop and he’s got the same ghosts as Red Robin.”

Danny slapped a newspaper down on the desk between them- the cover page was Tim, looking very CEO and businesslike.

Jason was pretty sure Tim and Danny would get along like a house on fire, if Danny had already figured him out.

“Also, I felt his heartbeat when we shook hands and it matches the beat of my soul.”

Pausing, Jason parsed the information he now had about Danny.

“Wait, you can see ghosts that follow people?”

“You can’t?”

Jason stared incredulously at Danny for a few beats, and then the younger man sighed.

“Right. Your ecto is all screwy. Remind me to fix that. Yeah, I see ghosts attached to people- not everyone has them, and not all of the ghosts are actually, you know, dead people, but yeah. I don’t normally think about them because they’re everywhere, but same ghosts often equal same person.”

Danny slumped further into the chair after he finished talking, letting out a small whine.

“What now?”

“Jason, he’s cute.”

With a sigh, Jason pointed over at the newest handful of appliances he needed Danny to fix for the residents of Crime Alley.

“Take that and get out of my office.”

~~~

“Timberly~”

Tim sighed and let his pen drop- if Jason was here and looking for him, he probably wouldn’t get much work done. Not that he was getting work done now- balancing a pen on his nose wasn’t really work.

Jason rounded the batcomputer, idly tossing his helmet from one hand to another, a massive grin stretching across his face. It was a scheming face, a face that said he knew something Tim didn’t, and Tim hated not knowing things.

“What.”

Jason’s grin stretched wider.

“You’ve been keeping secrets!”

With a sigh, Tim turned his attention to the computer. Of course he kept secrets- the entire family had secrets. Hell, the secrets that the entire family kept probably also kept secrets.

Undeterred, Jason shoved his head (read: his entire upper body) in between Tim and the computer.

“So, where is it?”

Tim raised an eyebrow at the other man, hoping he looked as judgmental as he felt.

“Where is what, Jason? My spleen?”

The grin on Jason’s face faltered for a moment before returning with full force.

“Your soulmark!”

The weights Dick had been working with in the training area hit the floor with a loud thump, and Tim could only assume their oldest brother was storming over to berate Jason.

“Jason!”

Heh. He was right.

Jason pulled away, grabbing the arm of Tim’s chair and dragging him along to be a human shield as Dick approached.

“Nu-uh, Dickie- I’ve got good info, here. Timmy has been hiding his entire soul from us!”

Tim would like it to go on record that he hated everything, everyone, and especially Jason. He tuned out Dick’s raised voice and Jason’s responses, trying to figure out how the other could have found out.

He almost always kept the patch on- it’s not like a civilian camera could have caught him without. Even when he took the patch off to wash or to tend a nearby wound, he made sure to do it in his Nest without any recording devices nearby.

The only way Jason could have- Maybe he’d met Daniel and seen Tim’s name? Some poor kid down in Crime Alley? A four year old at best. Eurgh.

He tuned back into the still heated conversation.

“-kindness isn’t hard Jason, and you can’t just use the excuse that we’re siblings to bully Tim for being markless! I never thought you had it in you, you-“

“It’s under my sternum. How’d you find out?”

Dick’s tirade stopped short as Tim answered, his mouth dropping open comically. Jason pumped his fist triumphantly.

“You handed him to me on a silver platter, Timbo.”

Tim did not gape, that would be unbecoming and Janet Drake would never allow a son of hers to be unbecoming.

“I’m sorry?”

Jason grinned, an evil, evil grin.

“Daniel Fenton. You gave his case to me.”

“Case?”

Dick’s voice was high and reedy, and Tim looked over to see that he was looking distressed and probably a little faint.

Jason snickered. Rude.

“I do not have a case for my soulmate.”

Jason snickered again, and pointed at the batcomputer.

“Then what’s that?”

Both Dick and Tim turned to look- it was just the file on Phantom- but by the time they turned around again, Jason was roaring out of the cave on his bike.

Tim flipped him off, just because he could.

Dick collected himself before Tim did, whirling to face him and yanking Tim’s shirt up before desperately scraping at the bare skin, trying to find the patch.

With a sigh, Tim pushed Dick’s searching hands away and peeled off the patch himself.

He felt bare without it- completely exposed to his brother’s sharp eyes.

“You never told anyone?”

Shrugging, Tim slapped the patch back on, pulled his shirt down, and turned back to the batcomputer.

“Came in late- didn’t want some poor kid to get saddled with me.”

By the hitch in Dick’s breathing, Tim could tell the older man was about to get sentimental on him, or berate him for talking bad about himself.

This day couldn’t get much worse, could it?

The Arkham escape alarm sounded from both boys’ phones, and Tim sighed yet again. Way to jinx himself.

~~~

Phantom floated invisibly above the Red Hood, filtering away the ectoplasm that rolled off of him in waves as he stood with the other bats.

“Nightwing and Robin, you’re looking for the Joker.”

The ectoplasm spiked at Batman’s growl, and Danny sighed soundlessly. Keeping Jason away from his vengeance was not the right way to go about things.

“You want another dead Robin if they find him?”

“I do not want a dead Joker, Hood, and I know there will be one if I let you after him.”

Red Hood crossed his arms with a snarl, and Phantom settled closer to the man’s shoulders, keeping a steady wave of calm floating from his core.

The beat of his soul was pounding with excitement, and he took a moment to glance over at Red Robin, who was glaring in Red Hood’s direction. Danny couldn’t begin to fathom why.

Once the bats scattered, Phantom brought his head closer to Hood’s. The older boy was muttering mutinously under his helmet.

“What if we found him first?”

Hood’s head shot up to look in Danny’s direction.

“I could help, and then we could go home and finish Jenga.”

“Help do what?”

Danny dropped his invisibility long enough to flash Jason a grin.

“Payback.”

~~~

Red Robin and Spoiler crashed into a warehouse, weapons at the ready, only to find half the rogues they were looking for tied up and watching a fight going on in the center of the room. Tim’s heart was beating a mile-a-minute with adrenaline, and so was his second heartbeat. He had been rushing to find the Joker at least, especially after Red Hood went off comms.

It took him a minute to identify the people in the fight, if it could really be called that. From what he could tell, it was a mostly unilateral beat-down of the Joker by Phantom.

“What the fuck.”

Stephanie was watching with wide eyes from his side, and Tim caught a glance of Jason watching from the other side of the warehouse, helmet off and a green glow about his face.

“We need to get to Hood and make sure he doesn’t do anything.”

Spoiler nodded, but before she could move, a shadow shifted next to Hood and Black Bat slipped from the shadows, putting a hand on the man’s arm. Hood turned his head in her direction, nodded, and then went back to watching the show.

Black Bat stepped away, seeming satisfied with Jason’s response.

Phantom smacked Joker with a backhand slap loud enough to startle Tim, and the psychopathic man went flying back into the wall, crumpling into a heap at the base.

Tim watched as Phantom floated over to Hood, chest heaving despite no sounds of breathing.

“Are you Avenged, Bat of Gotham? Feel it in your Core.”

The greenish glow to Jason’s face flickered and then floated up and away from his face, dispersing in a thin mist.

“I am Avenged, Phantom.”

Phantom landed with a smile.

“See? Killing him wasn’t necessary- just a little beatdown.”

The second heartbeat in Tim’s sternum began to slow as Phantom held out a hand to Red Hood.

Jason took it and shook, smiling grimly.

“Red Robin?”

Spoiler was at his shoulder, but Tim couldn’t tear his eyes away from Phantom’s face.

“Red, we need to get Joker to the hospital.”

Black Bat moved from beside Jason and punched Tim on the shoulder.

“Ask him out.”

Tim startled.

“I- what?”

She made the sign for soulmate discreetly, and Tim felt his face flush. Phantom couldn’t possibly- but then he thought about Jason’s cryptic wording about Tim’s soulmate the other day.

Surely not. Surely.

#dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #dp x batman #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #brain dead #mild violence #soulmate fic

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casinodove · 1 year

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⁺‧₊ CUPIDITY ─ y!Capitano .

IN WHICH, his lack of control over his cupidity was certainly visible whenever he was with them.

─ sfw , cws for general yandere themes , capitano being deranged , mild dumbification , power imbalance , talks of "owning" someone , misuse of power , somewhat mild violence , toxic relationships , helplessness , slight sadism , mentions of blood n cutting someone's throat , forced marriage

gn!reader ft. they/them prns , 2nd person pov , y!capitano x reader

─ side notes , you've already heard of gentle and caring yandere capitano now get ready for rough, sadist, deranged and bloodthirsty yandere capitano, bought to you by yours truly. Also new layout wow. Not proofread surprisingly

CUPIDITY , (n.) Greed, strong desire

─LOVE CONFESSIONS WERE ALWAYS DESCRIBED AS EUPHORIC, ROMANTIC AND PASSIONATE IN ALL THE BOOKS YOU HAD READ.

It wasn't that huge of a surprise to you when his love confession was nothing like that, you had already picked up on his odd behavior from months prior to it.

However, calling it pleasant, nice, or romantic in any shape or form would be a stretch, for those were certainly the only emotions you didn't feel during the moment. It was empty of all passion, the euphoria was there yet it was there for a bad reason.

─ THE SWORD GRAZED AT YOUR SKIN, CUTTING ONE THIN LINE THAT TRAVELED DOWN FROM YOUR JAWLINE TO YOUR NECK

Although the cut itself wasn't that deep, it was deep enough to draw blood. The fresh wound on the sensitive skin of your neck began to sting as blood dripped down onto your shirt.

─ "Say it"

He commanded, pressing the swords sharp tip a tiny bit further into the flesh of your neck, inching closer towards you.

Your breath hitched and one painful lump manifested itself into your throat, saying what he wanted to hear was certainly getting harder by the second considering that he'd only need to push the sword into your flesh a little more to separate your neck into two pieces.

Swallowing hard, you gathered whatever crumb of courage was left within you and tried to mentally prepare yourself before finally speaking up.

─ "Please put the sword away, my Lord."

Your voice sounded way louder than it should've within his cold study room, which sent you into some slight panic since you didn't want to anger him by being too "demanding"

Despite your pathetic plea, he only twisted the sword ever so slightly, his dark helmet boring through you.

It was clear from his lack of speech that his previous demand stood and that perhaps the only way he'd remove the blade from your flesh would be if he was satisfied with the love confession that he knew you'd eventually make.

─ HIS HELMET STARED BLANKLY AT YOU, LIKE A BLOODTHIRSTY PREDATOR STARED AT ITS PREY MOMENTS BEFORE DEVOURING IT IN A FIT OF BLOODLUST.

It would be helpful for your escape if you weren't pressed up against a wall and well, his sword however escape wasn't what you were planning for the moment, for what currently mattered right now was to get out of this situation with your throat intact.

Taking one last, quick scan of your surroundings you closed your eyes and took one deep breath, bracing yourself mentally and clinging onto the last bits of dignity left in you before he devoured that too.

Putting on your best innocent facade, softening your gaze and looking at his helmet in order to give an illusion of submission you let the lies words spill out from your mouth.

─ "it is true my Lord, that I too have loved you for long. I have loved you for many moons and yet I was fearful of admitting it. I feared rejection, for I didn't desire to be humiliated in such a way. My feelings are nothing but sincere for you, my Lord, and, it is beyond any shadow of a doubt, I'd truly like to spend the rest of my days by your side if you would allow me to."

He tilted his head slightly, searching within your facade eyes for any trace of a lie, yet instead of slicing your neck the sharpened blade traveled to your chin and raised it ever so slightly.

─ "We both know you better not be lying, dove. You are already aware of the consequences lying to your lover and Lord brings, no?"

Nodding your head the best way you could without cutting yourself on his sword you never dropped the act once.

─ "Ofcourse, I.. wouldn't lie to you, my Lord."

You struggled forcing the innocent tone out of your throat the best way you could, fully knowing it was one poor attempt at pleasing his intensifying cupidity.

It truly astonished you how the previous few minutes he was ranting about how much he loved you, about how much he required you to continue living, and then a minute after he was done with that, the blade that was previously barely touching you was threatening to slice your throat as he demanded you to confess your neverending love back to him.

However, even without the sword, there was nothing else you could do but "confess" your totally existing love for him, for he was an almighty harbinger and you were a low ranking fatuu, he could destroy you in more ways than one just considering that.

Yet, you couldn't say you really enjoyed this extra attention from your superior, it truly brought chills down your spine whenever he'd coo things at you as if you were too dumb to understand his big words otherwise. You knew he was wrongly using his power to get what he wanted from you, matter of fact he had done it so many times, yet nobody really cared. Nobody cared about when you were forced into going out with him or forced into helping him on missions, nor when you were working overtime with him and spending multiple sleepless nights due to having to help his lordship.

Simply because he, was a harbinger, a high ranking one at that, and you, were merely a nobody compared to him. And goodness, did he make sure to drill that into your head every chance he got.

─ "Well then, I shall believe you and allow you to spend your days alongside me. Betrayal and disloyalty will not be tolerated any longer from this point on."

He put the sword away, and with one swift move his gloved hand slid the lavish ring onto your finger, the ring felt heavy on your finger not due to it being made out of pure gold nor due to the previous gems adorning it but due to the burden that you now had to forever carry with you by being his lawful partner.

For you knew, the ring was but another mark of clear ownership, and it was that very ownership you desperately wanted to get rid of.

im litteraly going feral over this man rn I can't even

─ casinodove , 22.01.23 .

do not copy, translate nor rewrite any of my works without explicit permission from me !

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #capitano #capitano x reader #capitano x you #capitano x y/n #gender neutral reader #yandere capitano #yandere themes #mild violence #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin au #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin imagines #yandere fatui #fatui harbingers

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4e7her · 7 months

Note

11. "don't you believe me?" Mission impossible: Make Azul happy and not a mess in one prompt.

Just not in this one :)

Don’t you believe that all he’s doing, all he gave, was for you?

poor fucking azul. i love him and this is how i choose to treat him.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ for my new years event ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

character: azul ashengrotto, twst

contains: yandere themes, angst, gn reader, mild violence

"I love you. Don't you believe me, darling? Please."

Azul is nearly teary-eyed, trembling as he stares at you with all the desperation in his being. You're situated across from him - the both of you standing on opposite sides of his desk in his office. You almost want to believe him.

"Please, please, my love. Believe me. That's all I ask of you. Don't doubt me. Not on this."

You don't. You can't.

Whatever this was, whatever he felt for you, it wasn't love.

Tricking you into working at the Monstro Lounge was one thing - it seemed to be his favorite past-time, trapping poor unfortunate souls into unfavorable contracts.

Stalking you and sending the Leech twins to harass you was another thing entirely.

"You don't, Ashengrotto. You really, really don't."

"How? How could you know that?" Tears are starting to gather in his eyes, threatening to spill over as he tries to come closer, close the distance between you two - you take a deliberate step back when he does. "You can't decide that for me, darling. Please. Please, even if you don't feel the same, you have to believe me. All that I've done has been for you. For us. Can't you see it?"

Your disgust is thinly veiled as you sneer down at him, making your way closer to the door.

"Fuck you, Ashengrotto. You're delusional."

He chokes on a sob at the curse, and he starts to move to follow until you glare at him with venom. For a moment, you really, really want to curse him out and spew vitriol. Let him see how you really feel. If he's crying at just this, you can't imagine how he'd react.

"Please!" Azul throws himself to his knees, before you like a dog, shuddering as he stares up at you and starts begging. "Please, please, please, darling, you can't. You can't just go. You can't leave me."

God, maybe you should. Maybe you really should give him a piece of your mind. But then again, it's your attention he wants. He doesn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve anything from you. It takes you only a moment of staring down at this sad husk of a man to decide.

"You're fucking pathetic."

Your hate is clear in your tone, and he snivels like a child as you bring your hand down, tracing it through his hair. He looks almost hopeful at the soft touch, even as you keep talking.

"You put on such an act, don't you? Pretending to be some big bad scary business man, but this is all you are. A dog at my feet."

Suddenly, you grip his hair, yanking him up as you lean down to stare into his eyes with a scowl. Really, he's nothing but a pest at this point. You can't believe that you tolerated so much from this. This pitiful fucking thing. He outright cries at the pain, tears running down his face, but he doesn't move away.

"God. You're that deluded, aren't you? As long as it's me, you'd let me do fucking anything." You sigh as you drop him, watching as he crumples without you holding him up. He's barely able to glance up before you're already opening the door, showing yourself out, and thus, showing everyone that was in the lounge the sight of the ever-pitiful Azul at your feet. "You mean nothing to me, and you never will. You're nothing but a fly buzzing around. If you really wanna make me happy, leave me alone."

It's nothing but a low mutter, but you know he heard it by how his sobs start anew, gasping and hiccupping. You don't look back as you leave.

At least the message is clear.

With any luck, he'll be too busy dealing with this PR nightmare to go hounding after you.

[click here to go to masterlist.]

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number-one-shadisper-shipper · 2 months

Text

A bunch of thugs kidnap the younger brother of the most powerful hero on Mobius.

They really should've known better...

LONG LIVE WHOLESOME SONIC AND TAILS WEDNESDAY!

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mythical-illustrator · 10 months

Text

@staycalmandhugaclone

Art master list

Another one for their wonderful story. This time Wolffe and Doc. (Two in one day because I'm on a roll and hyped on caffeine 😅)

Inspired by the PTSD/flashback moments in Found footage when Plo and the Wolf pack take doc in...after injuring her

Clone armor 😩

(let me know if I need to tag for anything. I tried keeping it vague in terms injuries)

#my art #star wars #bad batch x reader #fanfiction fanart #cw wolffe #star wars wolffe #doc 99 #why is clone armor complex #blood #warning injuries #mild violence

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itsnotjustgibberish · 10 months

Text

Snapcube fandubs my beloved

[(I have come to make an announcement: (The Mind) [The Heart] is a bit-)]

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iriel3000 · 6 months

Text

Trust Is A Two Way Street

Whumptober Day 22: : “They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.”

Trust Is A Two Way Street

Summary: Pre-SHIELD. Hawkeye is taken captive by the Black Widow and the Red Room. The Widow's loyalty is tested when Barton is to be converted by another.

“You did good, Natalia.”

The red head acknowledged her handler, Ivan, and his two goons at the exits. In the middle of the room was the infamous Hawkeye, tied to a chair, arms bound behind his back, accenuating his broad chest. Natalia felt his sharp blue eyes follow her every move.

“I will enjoy watching Melina convert him.” Ivan studied the archer with interest.

"Melina?" Natalia was not able to control her outburst. “I am the one who brought him in.”

The older man smiled. It turned her stomach.

"And you will be rewarded."

She clenched her fists.

"The Hawk is mine."

“Now, now. What were you taught about possessions?”

No "reward" was worth more than she brought in. Her decision was becoming easier to make.

“Do you miss your nights with him? Your performances were very convincing." Ivan drew his finger along the swell of her cleavage.

Hawkeye jerked against his restraints, scraping the chair on the floor, cursing.

"He obviously misses you. Problem Mr. Barton?”

“Take your hands off of her and I'll let you keep those fucking sausages you call fingers."

Ivan laughed and snaked his arm around Natalias ribs, resting his hand just below her breast.

“You betray him and he still defends you. I see why you want him.” His hand moved a little higher.

"Мне жаль, мой ястреб." She whispered. I'm sorry, my Hawk

"Last chance, asshole."

"What are you going to do, Agent Barton?”

“Nothing. She will.”

tbc, please click link above

#whumptober2023 #lyric #they never saw us coming til they hit the floor #marvel #clintasha #fic #mild violence #hawkeye #clint barton #black widow #natasha romanov #strike team delta

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spaghettiandart · 2 years

Text

(faintly, in the background, you could hear the titan laughing)

I really need to stop making these at 3-4 am.

As always, click 4 better quality :)

#now we dont have time to unpack all of that #mostly because im on the verge of passing out #im getting like 5 hrs of sleep a night i dont tjink this is healthy guys #the owl house #toh #emperor belos #luz noceda #mild violence #old man phil au #my art #fanart #au

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ccrose-art · 2 years

Text

gettin too soft round these parts, heres some angst

#ofmd fanart #ofmd #edward x stede #stede bonnet #blackbeard #edward teach #our flag means death #gentlebeard #blood #mild violence #my art

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grumpygreenwitch · 2 months

Text

The Witches and Wizards Job 7-8

Around this point I actually read back and asked myself, "Is this moving too fast?" Then I remember the speed at which a Leverage episode actually moves and the kind of beating Harry usually picks up each book, and went, "Nah."

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SEVEN

The divide between magic and technology is a known quantity. Every wizard knows to stay away from most mechanical things; the more complex they are, the more likely they were to break. The more powerful the wizard, the quicker it was gonna happen. Even knowing these things, I hadn't realized how deep that boundary ran until I tried to find out anything about my prospective employers.

If it had been a magical entity, a spell, an artifact, between Bob and I we could have probably found out at least the basics, but Bob couldn't find out anything about the Leverage people. I wasn't crazy enough to try and scry something in Boston, never mind the range.

All I could tell was that Leverage was, apparently, a purely mundane affair. Based in Boston as they were I didn't doubt they'd run themselves into something other that the average human, but as the afternoon dragged on I began to realize I was going to have more luck finding out what, rather than getting any sort of information on whatever Deveraux and Ford actually had going on.

A smart man would have said no on principle. What little I could find out told me that if things had gotten so bad that an entirely non-magical outfit like Leverage had come looking for a wizard, then they were bad enough that walking away unscathed to enjoy that absurdly large paycheck was not guaranteed. Not even 50/50 odds.

But 50/50 was still better than no odds at all.

And I hadn't lied when I told Deveraux that I'm a curious man.

She'd written a number on the back of the card. Not a hotel, so they could have been anywhere. I eyed it while I called Butters and asked him to look after Mister while I was away. Then I called it.

"Harry." Deveraux actually sounded happy to hear me; it was refreshing.

"Train. The older the better," I told her. "That applies to any tech you want near me, too. Mouse comes with me."

"Yes, of course."

"The daily fee is… good." My voice cracked a bit despite my best attempt at sounding like it was not a holy-heck amount of money. I cleared it. "It's good. But I can't go longer than a week. One week and I'm coming back home, even if your problem's not solved."

"That's fine."

"And I need a basement."

"A b… A basement?"

"It's contained in case something bad happens."

"Ah." The fact she didn't ask questions told me containment was a common concern in both her line of work and mine. "Anything else?"

"I can't think of anything off the top of my head. I'm sure something will come up." Something did almost immediately. "A full briefing as soon as I'm there. No secrets, no lies. If I find out you've lied to me, I'll leave."

"We'll tell you as much as we know," she assured me, and I found myself believing her. "Welcome to the team, Harry."

It felt weird to be welcomed, to be made to feel as if I were part of a team that actually wanted me there. "When do you think you'll have everything ready?"

There was laughter in her tone. "When do you think you'll be packed?"

Three hours later I was at Union Station, being escorted off the oldest VW minibus in existence and onto a rail car that apparently I had all to myself, like something out of an Agatha Christie book. I'd packed Bob, my tools, a quick-spell kit, any books I thought might help, and a change of clothes. Mouse looked mournfully at me as the train began to move, and I couldn't blame him; it felt as if I were leaving a piece of myself behind.

I knew Chicago. It was home. I knew the people, the streets. I knew its seasons, its weather. I knew the hangouts of most of the dangerous creatures in it, both human and inhuman. I knew every layer of it, every mood, every current.

I knew very little about Boston except that it was a supernatural melting pot. Most creatures that crossed from the Old World or from Other Places and didn't come through the Nevernever landed in Boston; many stayed there, made lives there. There were inhuman families that were generations old, living side by side with the descendants of human immigrants. The divide between mortal and supernatural was as thin as my willpower in Boston.

Look, Deveraux had handed me a really big number.

The train never stopped. That struck me as weird, but then I'd never traveled first class on a train before, so I had no bar for normal. I tried to sleep, but the novelty of everything wore off a couple of hours into the trip, and panic began to settle in. What the hell was I doing? I was Chicago's wizard, not Boston's!

Well, it was done. The AC broke about halfway through the trip, but with the windows open I never even noticed. I got my books out and read, trying to give myself a crash course on the magical scene in Boston, so to speak. Mouse took over one of the windows and seemed to have forgiven me, head thrust out into the wind of our passage, jowls flapping and the plume of his tail wagging sedately. He scared the crap out of the one person I did see, a young man who brought me breakfast and lunch, somehow still warm.

The sun had just set when the train pulled into the Back Bay. I could feel the air buzzing all around me with an imperceptible, invisible charge, the ambient energy of hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of supernatural creatures crackling against my senses. I felt both supercharged and itchy, and Mouse shook himself furiously when we finally made it off the rail car.

There was a man waiting for me on the concourse. He was tremendously solid, the sort of build I used to wish for when I was young, heavy muscle under a worn leather jacket, faded blue jeans and comfortable curb-stomper boots. He had long, very fine brown hair and oddly guileless blue eyes. He had stubble matching mine and he straightened up from his lazy slouch with the ease of someone perfectly at peace with the world around him.

I couldn't see the bulge of a gun anywhere, but I was pretty sure this was Leverage's heavy hitter.

Then he grinned at me, and his whole face lit up, and I thought maybe I was wrong. "Dresden?"

"That's me," I admitted.

He offered his hand without hesitation. "Eliot Spencer. Eliot's fine. Sorry to drag you so far from home."

This man was a walking contradiction. His hands told me I was right. His attitude told me I was wrong. He was the nicest, friendliest man with violence as his main occupation that I'd ever met up to that point in my life. He meant every word of his apology. He was sizing me up for threats.

Belatedly, I realized that Boston was literally supercharging me. My senses, both magical and normal, were trying to run away with me. I had nothing else at the moment; I clung to the hand Eliot Spencer offered, to the strength in it. "Oh, you didn't, not really. Too curious for my own good. Give me a second, would you?"

"You ok, man?"

"Just a little… drunk on the night air," I said, knowing how that had to sound to him.

I was not expecting the change that went over him. It was seamless, instantaneous. One moment Eliot Spencer was welcoming me to his home like a ray of sunshine; the next he was all deadly intent, a sort of quiet, intangible menace radiating from him like the darkest light. "A problem?" he asked mildly.

It told me two things; one, that I was right after all and two, that whatever had brought me to Boston was big enough to have this calm, steady man on a hair-trigger. "No, it's…. Boston's busy. Boston's real busy when it comes to magic. It hangs in the air, makes it thick, and it's giving me a head rush."

"Chicago's not like that?"

"No. The Lake grounds it. Water's good for that."

"I could take you by the Charles if it would help - hey!" And just like that the ray of sunshine was back when Mouse came trotting back from wherever he'd gone to take care of his business. Eliot dropped down to a crouch. "Who's this, Mouse, I think?"

"Yeah. Just watch out, he's not always -" Mouse, tail a blur, charged the Leverage man with a delighted huff and proceeded to lick anything Eliot didn't vigilantly protect, making him chuckle. Well. That was new. And good news for me. "Friendly. He was also a lot smaller when he was a puppy."

Eliot straightened up, rubbing Mouse's head with rough affection. My dog looked blissful, tongue lolling to one side. "Bait-and-switched you, huh."

"It might've been, if he'd given me any choice in the matter."

"He's big for a Tibetan Mastiff," Eliot pointed out. "Wrong color, too."

"He's not. He's a Tibetan Temple Mastiff."

Again that brief pause. Eliot looked down at Mouse. Mouse looked up at him.

The Leverage man grinned again and rubbed Mouse's ears. "Eh, he looks dog enough for me. Anyway. If you're feeling better, let's get you settled. I rented a van."

"Cars get temperamental with me around."

"Dresden, if you can break down a u-Haul, I'll believe you're a wizard no further questions. Where's your luggage?"

EIGHT

Apparently the Leverage people weren't unfamiliar with what happened when you put magic too close to tech. I was put up in their 'temporary' quarters, a small house a lick away from their actual place of business, a loft over a bar by the incredibly Irish name of John McRory's Place.

The house was nice. It had a fenced yard that Mouse promptly claimed as his own and a finished basement that I promptly claimed as my own. The bedroom looked suspiciously like someone had ordered it directly from a catalog, sheets and all. The only other rooms that were accessible were one bathroom and the living room, which had been set up as a meeting area of sorts. The kitchen was empty. The other rooms were full of crates.

There was dinner from the pub waiting for me that night, and a phone in a manila envelope. I offered to share my beer with Eliot; the phone died with a sad little squawk before we finished it.

"That's gonna make things hard," he admitted wryly, examining the dead screen of the phone. "I take it a bluetooth's out of the question?"

"The more parts to it, the quicker it goes."

I saw him get very thoughtful. "What about size? The bigger it is?"

"How big are we talking about?" I asked mildly, sensing a chance to finally get some information as to what had brought me to Boston.

"TV screen," Eliot answered without hesitation, then spread his arms. "Yay big."

"What were you doing at the time?"

"Trying to get a composite from a bunch of blurry pictures."

"What happened?"

"It cracked." He grinned wryly. "Top to bottom. We took that thing out to the recycling in two halves." His jovial mood faded. "I don't like the look on your face right now, Dresden."

"You shouldn't." I was trying to think of creatures that could shatter a screen like that, with just their image, without actually being there. It was a short list; it was also a very scary list. "It wasn't anything else, it had to be the picture?"

"The man who works our tech is the best, hands-down. His equipment doesn't blow up like that without a good reason," Eliot said calmly, then put his hands up. "Wait, no, I'm supposed to let you rest tonight. You're gonna hear all this tomorrow morning anyway."

"I did nothing but sleep on the train ride," I told him. I won't lie, it felt nice to know the Leverage outfit, whatever their business might be, gave enough of a damn to give me the night to myself. Most people who hire me for that kind of money expected 24-7 service, never mind what kind of shape I might be in at the end of the day. "Tell me what you can."

He gave me one of the few measuring looks I've ever gotten that didn't have my harm at heart before he made a decision and tipped his head toward the pub. "Come on."

"Mouse, watch the place." Mouse flopped in front of the door and settled down with a yawn.

The front of the pub was roaring, but we came in from the back. Eliot knocked softly on a door, poked his head in and murmured something to someone in there. I caught a faint whiff of something sweet, almost like licorice - probably a storage room, and a bottle of liquor had broken and been cleaned up. Eliot got his answer; he closed the door and we moved on. He peeked out into the main floor and called out something I couldn't hear over the noise of the crowd before heading to a pair of elevator doors.

I stopped walking. "Uh…"

He paused, turned, and led me to the stairs, grinning. "You know, I don't even think about most of this stuff. Tech's embedded so deep into our lives."

"I just wish for a hot water heater that didn't break in under a week," I told him.

"Yikes."

"Yup."

"Just keep your distance from Hardison's tech," Eliot warned me as he led me into a vast, elegant little loft. The bare brick walls had paintings on them that looked… modern. Expensive. I didn't know enough about art back then to appreciate what they were. A spiral staircase led up to what was probably a bedroom, and behind it was a typical modern kitchen. Most of the open space was taken up by a very modern, very sleek meeting room sort of setup, a wall full of screens and a small curve of desks before it. "He's still sore about those screens."

"Screens? More than one?"

"Yeah, a second one a day after -"

A young woman came flying into the loft. "Where is he? Where's the wizard?"

"Parker, don't -"

She whirled and faced me, and immediately made a face. "Aren't you supposed to have a white bushy beard?"

"Not for another couple hundred years."

I hadn't expected my quip to bring her up short, but it did. She seemed to really think about it, and it gave me a chance to examine her. She was young, wiry, blonde, pretty. She had the same kind of intensity Karrin had, but her focus seemed to change from minute to minute.

"Oh. I didn't think about that. There have to be young wizards to get old wizards."

"Parker." Eliot sighed.

"No robes?"

"Not if I can help it."

"Fancy spell books?"

"I do have one of those."

"Can I see it?"

"Parker, let the man catch his breath." Sophie Deveraux looked cozy and elegant and beautiful in a flowing blue blouse and a shimmering gray skirt. She beamed at me and I felt warm and fuzzy. Look, I'm man enough to admit it, I'm a sucker for a pretty lady, particularly one that doesn't want me dead. "Harry."

"Miss Deveraux."

"Just Sophie, Harry, please. Are you sure you wouldn't rather wait?"

"I'm good. I got all my rest in the train ride. Boston's full of energy, and it's making me buzzed, I rather put some of it to work, get it out of my system -"

"Why do you carry a stick?"

I whipped around. Parker had my wand in her hands.

Hell's Bells, I'd never even felt the theft. My wand, and I would have never known she'd gone for it if she hadn't said something.

Something in my face clued Sophie and Eliot that things had gone very badly, very quickly. "Parker!" Sophie cried out.

With all the care of someone handling live explosives, Eliot closed a hand over the 'stick'. "We are trying," he told her, sticking to his calm demeanor like tar, "to make a good impression, Parker."

"Oh, fine. Should I give everything else back?"

I took the quickest stock of my person I'd ever taken in my life. Immediately I found another thing missing that I would have never thought could be taken from me without my notice. How in the hell -!

"Yes!" Sophie told her firmly.

"Well, he didn't have anything interesting anyways," Parker put out her hand with my wallet on it.

And my shield bracelet.

Eliot offered me my wand back, looking sheepish. "Sorry, man."

"I just - how?" Seriously. Never mind the theft, everything was coming back to me, nothing was broken, no one was hurt, I just wanted to know how she'd done it.

"Parker is the best in the world," Sophie said, somehow managing to convey warm pride and icy disapproval all in one. Parker squirmed uncertainly. "She should also bear in mind that as of now you're part of our team, and we don't pickpocket teammates."

Parker held strong under the tone of disapproval longer than I would have. "Sorry," she muttered with ill grace.

"No harm no foul if you teach me how to do it."

She grinned, just a little. "Deal."

"Also, where should I stand so I'm as far away from anything tech-y as possible?"

"Right there." Nathan Ford had arrived, and the mask was off. He still looked vaguely friendly, a little rumpled, somewhat distracted. But there was nothing hiding the ruthless ice in his eyes anymore, or the deep mistrust in the gaze he leveled at me. I was in his world, in his domain, I was his employee. The carrot had done her job, the stick didn't have to mind his manners anymore. "Right there's fine, mister Dresden."

Ford passed everyone by and moved to the kitchen to find himself, apparently, some coffee. "Where's Hardison?"

"He said he wanted to take a few more pictures of the cylinder we found at the museum," Eliot told him. "He's in the storage room."

"What cylinder?" Something was bugging me. It wasn't big, at least not big enough to pin it down, but it was there, nagging at the back of my mind like a toothache after too much sugar.

"There was an issue at the Isabella Gardner Museum," Sophie told me. "Someone tampered with the fire suppression system. They attached some kind of homemade cylinder to the system and it started pumping something out in the air, some sort of perfume." She shrugged lightly. "We don't know why, there was no need for it."

"Perfume?"

"Yes. Fernflower."

I was running the next moment, going on a guess and a prayer. The guess was that the closed door was the storage room. The prayer was that I wouldn't be too late.

The moment I hit the bottom floor a faint reek of sweet, rotten candy and burning flowers made me reel back, coughing, my lungs burning. I could definitely smell the fernflower; worse, I could also smell night's breath. This was some deep, deep magic. Deep and old. Someone had cooked up a Burning Witchwell, and Leverage had blundered right into it. Only luck had kept any of them from being magically inclined, but that luck had run out with the fernflower.

Eliot was right behind me, and he threw a hand over his face. He snatched a bunch of cloth napkins from a nearby shelf and shoved them at me. "What is that?!"

I ran on and shoved the door open to the storage room. There was a man kneeling on the floor before a table, wheezing. The fernflower fumes burned my eyes and I actually heard my skin hiss on contact with the night's breath, but I was running on Boston air. I was so charged up I barely registered any pain.

"Venti, ventum!" I shouted. Wind poured into the storage room. Everything went flying off the shelves. I felt my magic careen out of control, as supercharged as I was, and fought to bring it back under control. I didn't want to wreck the room, I just wanted to get the man to safety, away from the fumes.

"Hardison!" Eliot had already dashed past me, catching the man. He was lanky, lean, deceptively muscled, possibly an inch or so taller than me. His skin was very dark and it had gone blotchy where the night's breath had had time to settle down and sink in. He slurred something unintelligible and squinted intently at me; I couldn't even begin to imagine what he was seeing.

"Dresden?!" Eliot asked, spitting his own hair out of his mouth.

"Go, get him out!"

He didn't question me. I could have danced a happy jig at that show of trust. I backed out of the room; I was one step past the doorway when helpful hands slammed the door shut. "Does the ventilation system here connect to the pub?"

"No, it goes straight out," Ford replied.

"Then just put some…" The borrowed energy from the Boston ambiance ran out. I felt pain creep up over any part of me not covered by fabric. "Put some…"

"Sophie, put some towels at the bottom," Ford's voice was full of calm, focused competency. "Parker, go tell the front of house no one is to come into this room until one of us says otherwise. Eliot." There was a pause. "Dresden, is a hospital going to help either of you?"

"He's fine." Oh, that was Ford's shoulder under my arm, holding me up. When had that happened? "Unless he's got magic, he's just drunk. Sort of."

"And you?"

"I'm a little blistered." I was a little more than blistered, but I had the advantage of knowing the damage wasn't real. "No hospital. A bath."

"Alright. Let's get you and Hardison up to the loft, then."

I wasn't in any shape to argue. I got shoved under a spray of miraculously hot water. Someone peeled my clothes off. At some point I realized I trusted only two people in the loft, and one of them was helping undress me. "Wash your hands," I told Eliot. "Wash the clothes."

"Can we burn them?"

"Don't burn my clothes, I didn't bring any more." I stared at him suspiciously; well, there was only one person I trusted anymore. "Tell Parker to watch my things."

Eliot offered a sound of deeply amused disbelief. Somewhere nearby a man's voice was tunelessly singing what sounded like a church song. "Drunk?"

"Intox… Intec… Sort of. Fernflower gives you magic. See things. Talk to animals. Sorta thing. But it's eph… emph…. It fades quick. You gotta lace it with… other stuff. It It wasn't the weapon, the night's breath was."

"Night's breath?"

"Old plant. Burns up magic. Night's breath was fire. Fernflower was gasoline. 's called a… a Burning Witchwell."

"You aren't breathing right, man."

"Fake. I'll be fine when my…. when my magic comes back. Easy, in this place."

"Fake damage." At that Eliot did look disbelieving. "Hurt's hurt."

"Particularly if you believe in it," I shot back, then put my head up to the spray of hot water. "Oh, that feels good."

I heard Eliot snort in amusement. "Well, enjoy it while you can. Haven't blown up this heater."

"Give me a chance, I just got here."

#leverage #nathan ford #alec hardison #sophie devereaux #eliot spencer #parker #the dresden files #harry dresden #crossover #my writing #fanfiction #urban fantasy #mild violence

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shirozen · 3 months

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Smacking with safety precautions

#abunaday #daily #bun #bunny #doodle #balloon #mild violence #safety first #smack #一日一兔 #氣球 #輕微暴力 #安全第一

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nixii-sabre · 2 months

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Haven’t posted fuck all in weeks soooo

Even more lc art dump!!

Some past crew sillies

These goobers are from a thang im doin with @xenomorphicdna and @bongocongocaveman as mentioned before btw

More most likely coming soon

#art #my art #shitpost #lethal company #lethalcompany #lc #lc spore lizard #lc masked #lc mimic #mimic #masked #lc mask #themmmmm :)#doodles #art dump #mild violence #bright colors #eyestrain

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lillywillow · 2 years

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Flirting By Moonlight

Summary: What happens when two supernatural beings meet in the woods on a moonlit night?

Written for: @buckybarnesbingo

Words: 1187

Square Filled: Y1- Supernatural AU

Pairing: Vampire!Bucky Barnes x Fairy!Female Reader

Warnings: Some violence

The woods could be a dangerous place at night, especially during the full moon. Creatures of the night and beings of magical powers lurked about, waiting for some poor human to stumble into their waiting paths. There was an unwritten rule about going into the woods on nights like these… So, when a being such as yourself met someone in a moonlit clearing, you had to think it was one of two things… Either it was 1) a very foolish human or 2) another supernatural being. He didn’t hold himself like a fae but there was something different about him that you couldn’t place.

“Well, hello there. It’s little dangerous to be out alone in the woods, don’t you think? You never know when someone with bad intentions might be hanging around,” the man smirked, showing off his fangs.

Huh… you had heard stories of vampires in the woods but you had never actually met one before… He could be fun to have in your court…

“On the contrary; I think it’s a perfect night for a picnic. Would you care to join me?” you asked, holding up a perfect pomegranate.

The vampire eyed you off suspiciously. Most humans would run at the sight of a vampire and yet here you were offering for him to join you…

He carefully sat down near you on the blanket you had set out.

“What’s your name, stranger?” you cheerfully asked.

“Bucky,” he cautiously replied.

It had to be a nickname. You didn’t get that feeling of power you normally had when you had a person’s name.

Bucky moved a little closer and breathed in deeply. You didn’t smell like a human, but you weren’t a vampire either.

“Are you hungry, Bucky?” you asked, subtly provoking him into either eating or attacking… either way, you won.

“Starving…”

Without warning, Bucky suddenly pounced on you, fangs poised to bite down on your neck… but something didn’t feel right to him. He pulled back a little and looked into your eyes which seemed to say, “Try it and find out”. Bucky had been doing this for centuries and in all that time he never found a person so defiant. Just as he pulled away to ask what the hell you were, the sound of his best friend’s voice stopped him.

“Buck, where are you? The hunters are coming, you need to get out of here!”

Bucky moved away from you as a blond man ran up. You recognised him from one of the other fairy courts.

“Hi, Steve,” you waved.

“Hey, Y/N,” he replied.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Bucky asked in surprise.

“Sort of. I know of her… she’s a fae just like me,” Steve informed him.

“Well not exactly like you. You’re a changeling whereas I have been in a court my entire life…”

A fae… Suddenly it made so much sense to Bucky. Steve had been his friend for centuries and told him stories about the fae or at least what he could remember. Everything about you fit in with what he had told him. Before the conversation could progress any further, you could hear barking dogs getting progressively closer.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here. Those hunters don’t take kindly to people like us,” Steve urged, getting both you and Bucky to move.

As you run away from the hunters, you glanced at Bucky. The moonlight really seemed to bring out his handsome face. There was just something about him that struck you as… fun. Maybe you could meet him again sometime…

…

Over the next few weeks, you and Bucky saw a lot of each other. You would both try to lure unsuspecting people into your traps; you for newcomers to your court, him for prey and familiars. More often than not, the person would get away because you were too busy playfully bantering with one another to focus on anything else. It was all a game to you until the night of the new moon. The darkness provided the perfect cover for a vampire to slip by unnoticed but the phase weakened your powers. However, this did not stop you from going out.

“Hi, Bucky,” you purred when you saw him.

“Y/N? Isn’t it a little dangerous for you to be out?” he asked, knowing the dangers that were out there.

“Why? Are there men with bad intentions hanging about?” you giggled.

“No… well, yes, but…”

“Oh no! I’m shaking! I better run away!”

You laughed as Bucky chased after you. You knew these woods like the back of your hand, jumping over creeks and dodging trees… the trap that was set up to catch fae folk… that was new. You never stood a chance as the chain-link net made of iron fell on you, making you scream in agony as the metal burned your skin.

“We got one, boys! Now let’s get her back before-”

Whatever the man was about to say died on his lips as Bucky attacked. He showed them no mercy, they never even got to draw their weapons. Once he had despatched of them, he rushed over to get the net away from you.

“It hurts, it hurts,” you whimpered.

“I know, doll. I’m going to get you out of here…”

That was the last thing you remember before passing out from the pain.

…

You woke a while later in a strange bed. Looking around, you saw Bucky asleep in the bed next to you. Despite both these things, you didn’t feel like you were in any danger. Gently, you ran your fingers through his hair, causing him to stir.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. You just looked so peaceful,” you whispered.

“It’s okay… It must almost be dawn,” he sleepily muttered.

“Where are we?”

“Steve’s place… I brought you here after you were hurt… I didn’t know where else to go…”

“Why did you help me? I know our little game is fun and all but… that’s all it is, right?”

Bucky pulled you into his arms.

“I feel like it could be more than that. You’re so fun and exciting… I feel like… we could start something interesting…”

“A fairy and a vampire… I guess just because something hasn’t been done before doesn’t mean we can’t make it work,” you softly smiled.

“I really want to make it work,” he mumbled, getting more tired by the second.

“I do too… Good morning, Bucky.”

Bucky smiled and fell asleep as dawn began to break.

…

The next night when Bucky woke up, you talked the whole time getting to know each other better. Steve secretly watched the pair of you, happy to see his friend feel this way about someone. It may have been an unusual pairing but you were both interested to see where this relationship would take you. Under the pale moonlight, you were made to be.

#buckybarnesbingo2022 #bbb2022 #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #vampire!bucky #fairy!reader #Flirting by Moonlight #Supernatural AU #Vampires #Fairy #Moonlight #Woods #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot #mild violence

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