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hugsandchaos · 3 months

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Seeing Double

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Summary: A ghost who looks a lot like Phantom comes to him in search of protection, and their newest member instantly agrees. He calls her his little sister, and sooner or later, Phantom also might end up with a new brother.

*bangs pots and pans together* @vixen-uchiha, @starlightcat04, @blueliac, COME GET Y’ALL’S JUICE!!!

Phantom smiled to himself looking up at the night sky. The event he’d been waiting for finally started a few minutes ago, the top right “corner” of the moon was dark with the tiniest hint of red on the “edge”. He was pretty grateful for being allowed to go outside for the lunar eclipse. Especially since the other members of Young Justice got to tag along as well. He could hear Wally explaining the specifics of the event to Conner below, but ignored it.

Phantom was well above the trees so he could get a perfect view of the lunar eclipse, so it wasn’t very hard to ignore them. Especially since he was so happy about what he was going to see soon. And by soon, he meant an hour or so. Since they were so far out from the city the civilization in general, Phantom also had an amazing view of the stars. It seemed like every second he spent looking at them instead of the moon, a new one would pop into existence. Or he’d recognize another constellation.

He leaned back so he was floating with his back facing the ground and crossed one of his legs over the other. He folded his arms over his abdomen and smiled fondly, acting as if he was laying on solid ground instead of being in midair. Then a small blue fog of smoke came out of his mouth.

Phantom quickly swung himself upright and looked around. He really didn’t want to deal with any ghost fights right now, he just wanted some peace. As he scanned the area around him, he noticed something in the distance. It definitely wasn’t a star, and it was too small to be a pod. It might be the ghost he had sensed being nearby.“Phantom?” Robin called out. The ghostly hero glanced down below.”Everything alright?” He asked.

Phantom nodded and went back to looking at the ghost.”Yeah, just a second. I think I see something.” He yelled back. He squinted his eyes to try to see if he could recognize the ghost. It didn’t take long for him to figure out who it was, and when he did, a huge smile broke out across his face.

“Danielle!!!” Phantom called out.

He quickly rushed towards his younger clone. He didn’t notice his friends calling for him, but he noticed that Dani had definitely spotted him since she was also hurdling towards him. They reached each other somewhere midway and Phantom slowed down enough before they practically collided with each other. Dani didn’t really slow down as soon as him and knocked him back a little, but he wasn’t too fazed by the impact and wrapped his arms around her.

He hugged his sister considerably tighter than he usually hugs people, and spun around a bit as a small way to release some of the new, excited energy. Dani laughed a little as they spun, then he stopped.”How have you been?!” He asked excitedly.

“I’ve been great!!” She said. They both ended the hug with big grins on their face, very happy to see the other after months had passed. Phantom was about to ask her about her time apart from him, but she opened her mouth to speak.”I’ve seen so many cool things that I wanna tell you about, and guess what?!“ She asked. She held her mouth open and pointed at the upper part. That’s when Phantom noticed her canine teeth were a bit bigger than a regular human’s.”I’ve grown fangs, like yours!” She exclaimed. The older halfa gasped softly. He wasn’t quite sure what emotion had just swelled up in his chest a little, but he’s felt it before, and it was definitely positive.

Was it pride? Was he proud of her? He wasn’t sure if that was it or not, but the feeling remained.”That’s so cool, Dani! They’re fang-tastic.” He said.

Dani’s grin grew a little bit wider when he said that.”Why, fang you!” She said. Suddenly, her expression changed drastically from pure excitement to what looked like distrust. Her eyes looked at something behind him, and Phantom quickly turned around to see what or who it was that caused her reaction.

Megan was floating there.”Who’s your friend, Phantom?” She asked kindly. Phantom calmed down a little and smiled again. He glanced back at Dani again and noticed how she looked a little confused, but still defensive. He floated back to be next to Dani.

“Hey, Megan! This is my little sister. She has the same powers as me.” He said. Him talking with his friend so calmly and casually seemed to help Dani relax. Which was what he was hoping for.

Megan’s smile grew as she looked over at the other halfa.”Really?! You’ve never mentioned your relatives before!” She said. She held a hand out.”It’s really nice to meet you, Danielle. I’m Megann! Well, Megann is my Earth name.” She introduced herself. Dani glanced over at Phantom. He knew what it was she was asking and gave her an encouraging nod. With the affirmation that it was safe, Dani smiled and shook Megann’s hand.”Nice to meet you too.” She said with a small smile. For a moment, Phantom was happy that they hadn’t met her in some kind of fight or had a misunderstanding. Then he remembered something pretty important. Not wanting to make it awkward, though, he decided to try to play it cool.

He gave Megann a slightly apologetic look.”I’m sorry, but would you mind letting us chat for a bit? We have a lot to catch up on and talk about, and something tells me it’s going to get a little personal.” He asked politely. He tried to make it understandable and reasonable, and to him, that sounded like a good explanation. He’s been pretty private about his life before he joined Young Justice, anyways.

Megann nodded.”Oh, yeah, of course! I’ll let the others know what you’re doing if they ask.” She said. The older halfa agreed with that idea and nodded to show it. The martian turned around and flew back to the others, and once she was gone, Phantom glanced over at Dani.

She turned to him at the same time, also looking pretty serious. Seemed like they both had something to say.”You go first.” Phantom said. Dani remained silent for an extra minute. Phantom waited until an idea of what it was entered his head, and he didn’t like it one bit.”It wasn’t Vlad, was it?” He asked. Dani shook her head.

“I was... I was spotted by one of them.”

Those words briefly made Phantom’s core stop. The sweet moment suddenly turned way more sour than he was expecting. His eyes widened in shock and horror and they both floated in silence for a while. With each passing second, Dani looked more and more like she’d start to cry. Tears were slowly starting to form, but she was holding back.”I don’t want them to catch me... We both know I can’t go into the Ghost Zone, so... I didn’t know what else to do.” She said. Her voice came close to cracking at the end.

Phantom quickly pulled his mind back together. An urge to protect his sister began to block out the fear he also felt for her and he pulled her into a hug.”They won’t get the chance. I’ll do everything to make sure of it.” He said. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d be able to actually protect her against part of the government, but he wasn’t lying. He was going to do whatever he could to protect her from the Guys In White. Dani hugged back.”Thank you.” She said.

“Anytime.” Phantom said. It was practically obvious to him. As long as his core was still vibrating and his heart was still beating, he’d protect her against anything.”But listen, my team doesn’t know I’m a halfa. They only think I’m a ghost. I think you should say the same.” He said. Dani nodded.

They soon ended the hug and Dani looked better than before. Phantom noticed something above and pointed behind her.”Look at that.” He said. Dani followed his gaze and let out a small, amazed “ohh” under her breath when she saw it. The lunar eclipse wasn’t complete yet, but it was getting there. A part of it was still white, but the majority of it was getting more and more red, and even looked a little orange.”I saw one of those before. Lunar eclipse, right?” She asked.

“Mhmm.” Phantom confirmed.

The two remained there for only a few minutes, watching the moon change ever so slightly, before Dani filled the silence again.”Can we meet the rest of your teammates?” She asked, turning to face him.

“Duhh! This way.” Phantom said, then flew to where his friends had set up camp.

It was a pretty short flight, and once there, his teammates were already looking at them. The group had used Megan’s bioship to fly out an hour or so away from the mountain and brought their own tents, and obviously some campfire snacks along with other necessities. They were all aligned in a circle with a sort of “entrance” facing the direction of the bioship. Phantom landed with Dani close behind and glanced back at her to make sure she wouldn’t get overwhelmed or anything. He wasn’t entirely sure how good her social skills were. She looked a little bit surprised, but overall okay. Phantom turned to his team.”Hey, guys! Hope you don’t mind one more.” He said, gesturing towards his sister. Dani smiled and waved at them.

Megan was the first of them to speak.”Not at all! Come on over, the eclipse is getting closer.” She said. Dani accepted the invitation and began walking over to them. Phantom obviously followed.

He noticed Conner looking a little surprised, but brushed it off since everyone seemed a bit surprised to learn that he apparently had a sister. Dani floated off the ground to be more at eye level with his friends.”How come all of your friends are taller than me?” She asked, glancing back at Phantom. He just shrugged and grinned.”I guess you just got the short end of the stick.” He said. Dani rolled her eyes and looked back at them.

“I’m Danielle! It’s nice to meet all of my brother’s new teammates.” She said. Robin held his hand out and Dani accepted it.

“It’s nice to meet you too. I’m Robin. That’s Wally, Artemis, Conner, Kaldur, and you’ve already met Megan.” He said. Phantom leaned closer to Dani and pointed at Wally.

“He doesn’t really believe in ghosts, so feel free to bug him when he’s not training or on missions.” He whispered.

Wally glared at him and Robin and Artemis both muffled a laugh behind their hands.”Hey!” Wally snapped. Dani gasped almost slightly offended, then grinned mischievously.

“Oh, I’d love to!” She said. Before she said something else, though, Conner spoke up.

“Megan told us you’re his little sister, but I didn’t expect you to look practically just like our friend. You could be mistaken for twins if it wasn’t for the age difference.” He said. He didn’t seem upset, and Phantom was a bit relieved about it. He didn’t think that Conner would start anything, but he had anger issues and had... negative reactions to being reminded that he’s a clone of someone who doesn’t like him.

Dani shrugged a little. “Well, yeah! I’m his clone, so of course I look like him and have similar powers.“ She said. The camp went quiet. The atmosphere wasn’t exactly heavy or intense, but it certainly wasn’t as happy and calm as before. Dani noticed the change and at first was confused, then she started to grow nervous. She glanced between Phantom’s teammates.

Finally, one of them spoke.“You said she’s your little sister.” Wally said. Phantom immediately hopped onto the defensive, but tried to remember about their treatment towards Conner and not mistake his confusion in his voice for something negative.

Dani seemed to make that mistake, though, since she began floating closer to him with a pretty nervous expression.”Yeah, because she is. Just because there’s no legal documentation or something doesn’t mean she can’t be my family.” Phantom said. Dani stopped right next to him and nodded in agreement. To her surprise and not her big brother’s, his friends all seemed almost a little heart warmed by this. Conner just looked surprised.

“That’s nice of you. To give her a family.” Kaldur said.

“I don’t see why I wouldn’t, but thanks?” Phantom said. Dani suddenly flew upwards and looked at the sky.

“Enough with the sentimental stuff, we’re going to miss it!” She said. The older halfa quickly remembered the reason they’d come outside in the first place and let out a small “oh”. He followed her lead and smiled at the moon once he was above the trees.

It was now completed and fully red. Sure, there was still a tiny bit of lighter red, but the huge majority looked a lot like blood. It was a little creepy, but Phantom still couldn’t help but admire it. It was amazing, and made him almost forget about the talk he’d need to have with Kaldur and Red Tornado, and possibly the rest of the league later. He’d think about that after the eclipse was over. For now, he was just going to enjoy the sight.

#dp x yj #yj x dp #young justice #danny phantom #danny fentom #dani phantom #yj Megan #Yj Conner #Yj Robin #yj kid flash #seeing double #danny phantom crossover #young Justice crossover #danny being a big brother to dani

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geminijade · 1 year

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Seeing Double 🥵🔥

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fiery-lune · 1 year

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Re-reading “Seeing Double” has me so inspired so I had to draw this scene from chapter 15!

#kacchako #mha bakugou #mha uraraka #bnha #mha #fanart #fanfic #seeing double #knifekirby

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danskjavlarna · 4 months

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Speaking of double vision, here's my collection of vintage "seeing double" imagery.

#seeing double #vintage yearbook #1920s #vintage illustration #yearbook #illustration

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skyward-floored · 6 months

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Whumptober Day 26: Seeing double, “You look awful”

A little sickfic because I haven’t done many of those yet. Thank goodness we’re getting near the end of the month, I’m rapidly running out of juice for these hahahahahaha

Read on ao3

Warnings: not much. Feeling dizzy, and mentions of throwing up.

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He was so tired.

Hyrule’s lip wobbled at the thought of continuing on, of not just sitting down and resting his head against a tree. But he stubbornly bit down on his lip, ignoring the tremble in his legs and the soreness of his throat, and kept marching.

He’d woken up feeling heavy and aching, shivering in cool air that he’d normally relish. An ache had taken up residence in his throat, and whenever Hyrule swallowed, it was like he’d swallowed a handful of knives.

The urge to cough rose in his throat, but Hyrule swallowed it down, wincing at the pain from the action. Surely he was just feeling the effects of using so much magic in that battle yesterday. Normally a good night’s sleep helped with that, but he must have just used more then he thought.

He refused to entertain the notion of being sick.

I’m fine, Hyrule told himself firmly, keeping up with the others despite how badly he wanted to drag behind. It’s just a little extra tiredness. It’ll be fine once we stop for the night, I just need to keep going until then.

He ignored the fact that the sun was still high in the sky.

Hyrule was unable to stop himself from coughing, but he muffled it as best as he could. Normally when this sort of thing happened to him, he’d make tracks for the nearest safe area possible, a cave, or town if he was lucky... the roots of a tree if he wasn’t.

But he wasn’t traveling by himself, he was with a group. One that couldn’t afford to just stop moving until he was well enough to continue, not if they were going to have any chance of finding the rest of the heroes they’d been separated from.

So Hyrule pushed through the shivers that kept trying to slow him down, ignoring the tremble in his legs. He traveled a little further away from the others so he wouldn’t arouse suspicion, staying closer to the trees at the side of the path, and when Wild joined him, he didn’t say much. Wild didn’t seem to care though, and happily pointed out mushrooms and birds with only minimal reply from Hyrule.

Hyrule’s head started to pound the longer the afternoon dragged on though, pulsing behind his eyes. His throat grew even more sore, and his whole head seemed to have been lifted up into a cloud, leaving his thoughts misty and hard to focus on.

All he could really do was keep walking.

Hyrule realized suddenly that words were being directed at him, and he tried to listen to them. Something about... being okay? He quickly nodded, hoping the wordless response wouldn’t garner suspicion.

“Are you sure ‘Rule?” the voice asked again, and Hyrule focused in enough to figure out that it was Wild squinting at him with a concerned look. “You... look kind of awful.”

Hyrule swallowed.

“Fine,” Hyrule got out in a normal-enough sounding voice. “Just... little tired.”

“...Do you need a break?” Wild asked a little worriedly.

“No,” Hyrule quickly replied, and fought back a cough. “I’ll be fine.”

Wild frowned, but somebody called his name and his attention was grabbed. Hyrule went back to focusing on walking, even as it grew harder and harder to force his feet to lift up off the ground.

It would normally have been an easy path they were hiking along, only a slight slope with barely a root or rock to trip on. But the ground kept swimming in and out of his vision, doubling and moving around along with the trees around him.

Hyrule wasn’t sure when he’d stopped moving, but he realized suddenly his feet weren’t listening anymore when he told them to go. All he could do was stand in place, the world swirling around him, and try not to fall over.

“Hyrule?”

The voice came from far away, and Hyrule closed his eyes, suddenly feeling nauseous. Why was he so cold? It had been hot just a few minutes ago, and the sun was still beating down on his forehead.

The world kept tilting. Why was it doing that?

“Hyrule!”

Something grabbed at him, and Hyrule startled, blinking his eyes open again. For some reason the world had gone sideways, and the angle only made his head hurt even worse.

“Hyrule, are you okay?”

“Oh, I knew he looked off! He was all shaky when I talked to him!”

“Traveler?”

Hyrule turned his head and looked dizzily up at several faces, unable to focus on any of them. Someone moved a little closer, and Hyrule figured out that one was Legend, apparently the one who’d caught him if the angle of his head was to be trusted.

Or maybe not. He still wasn’t sure,

“Hyrule are you okay? Are you hurt?” Legend asked sharply, and Hyrule felt tears prick behind his eyes for some reason. He was just so tired.

“Not hurt,” he rasped, and swallowed, his throat aching worse then ever. “Can keep going.”

Something was placed on his forehead, and Hyrule heard a low noise of concern, along with a sigh.

“He’s burning up,” a voice that might’ve been Sky said, and Hyrule found himself leaning into the touch on his face, the hand delightfully cool and comforting.

“Hyrule, How long have you been sick?” someone else asked. Twilight maybe? No, he wasn’t here, they were looking for him and the others... right?

He couldn’t remember.

“‘M not, just tired,” Hyrule protested, his head spinning more all of a sudden. “Not.”

“Buddy, you’re definitely sick,” someone else’s voice spoke up, and Hyrule closed his eyes again as the spinning around him got worse. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?“

“...dunno,” he whispered, unable to find the words to explain. His head hurt too much to explain anything.

Hyrule swallowed back a whimper, and the hand on his forehead brushed some hair from his eyes. A sigh came from somewhere above him, and then the hands holding him shifted a little.

“There should be a good spot to camp a bit up ahead if we’re where I think we are. We can stop early for the night,” someone said, and Hyrule opened his eyes again.

“Don’t have to stop, keep going,” he croaked, and tried to sit up, weakly pushing at the arms around him.

They pushed back to keep him down, but what really stopped Hyrule was the rapid lurching of the world around him as he sat up.

The faces looking at him swirled into an unidentifiable smear of features, blond and pink and brownish hair mixing with all different shades of blue eyes. The entire world joined in, trees and sunlight and words and pine needles spinning and twirling around him in dizzying colors that nearly made him throw up.

And suddenly he was lying down, blankets on top of him with fingers carding gently through his hair.

Hyrule dizzily opened his eyes, his head still pounding, and saw Legend sitting next to him, looking entirely lost in thought. The light from the sky was much more orange then it had been, and a confused noise escaped Hyrule’s lips.

Legend immediately turned to him at the noise, relief and something Hyrule couldn’t read in his gaze.

“Hey Roolie,” he said in soft voice, scooting closer. “How are you feeling? Any better?”

“Mm,” Hyrule murmured, his throat violently reminding him of its soreness. It felt worse then earlier, and he closed his eyes as he swallowed against it.

The hand carding through his hair paused, and a face leaned over his, scars looking less pink in the orangey light.

“You feel up for some soup? Or just water, or whatever? If you want something specific I can make it for you,” Wild said with a little smile, and Hyrule blinked back tears again.

“Water,” he whispered, and Wild nodded and stepped away, presumably to get it.

Silence settled between him and Legend, and Hyrule closed his eyes as the world threatened to begin spinning again. Every bit of him felt wrung out and achy, and while lying down was better then moving, he still felt awful.

On more then one account.

“Traveler.”

Hyrule slowly opened an eye, and saw Legend watching him, his face creased.

“You know you can tell us if you’re sick, right?” he started with, and Hyrule swallowed. “You don’t have to just act like you’re fine.”

“Needed... to keep going,” Hyrule croaked, and Legend’s frown grew.

“You’re allowed to need rest, traveler,” Legend said sternly, and Hyrule shifted under his blankets. “The others can wait, it’s okay.”

“But they...”

“Hyrule,” Legend said, and Hyrule met his eyes, looking at the crystalline blue. “Would the others want you to run yourself utterly ragged looking for them? Would they be happy to learn that you collapsed because you wouldn’t take a hint from your body and kept going, despite how you were burning up with a fever and sound like you gargled lava rocks?”

“...probably not,” Hyrule whispered.

“Exactly,” Legend finished, and his voice softened a little. “Everyone gets sick sometimes, ‘Rule. You just have to let yourself rest sometimes.”

Hyrule felt a bit of a smile pull at his lips. “Kinda... hypocritical coming from... you.”

Legend immediately looked offended. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He means you do the exact same moronic thing when you’re sick,” Wild said as he came back. “You refuse to admit it and just keep going on your merry way until all of a sudden you’re throwing up on Warriors’ boots.”

Legend flushed. “That was one time.”

“Yeah and Warriors complained about it for weeks after!”

Hyrule rasped out a laugh, and Legend helped him sit up so he could drink the water Wild had brought. It looked like he’d mixed some potion in along with it, and the burning ache in his throat eased a little as he drank, sweet and cool as it slipped down his throat.

He finished with a tired sigh, and Legend lowered him back down, the hand going back to carding through his hair again.

“Try and rest some more, Hyrule. We’ve got your back,” Wild said with a smile, and Hyrule faintly returned it.

His blankets around him were pulled back up to his chin, and Hyrule closed his eyes, still feeling like a heavy weight was pulling him down.

But he also felt lighter then before, and he let himself relax, a hand on his forehead the last thing he felt before he dropped off.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu hyrule #lu legend #lu Wild #linked universe fanfic #whumptober 2023 #whumptober #day 26 #seeing double #you look awful #fic #writing from the floor #mmmm this is kind of a disaster but it’s something #i repurposed an idea i had for a few days ago here and I guess it worked ok #I need to figure out what I’m writing for today...

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weirdyearbook · 2 months

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Speaking of double vision, here's my collection of vintage "seeing double" imagery.

#seeing double #vintage yearbook #1910s #vintage illustration #yearbook #illustration

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breannasfluff · 6 months

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Outfit of the Enemy

Whump Rating: 3/5 TW: broken rib, blood

It was supposed to be a night jog. Wild put on his dark link outfit partway through the exercise; it was too dark for him so see comfortably. The magic in the set made it easier to see and he set off again.

Not once did he think about the fact that the Chain was chasing a dark link. Or that someone might be on watch who didn’t recognize him. Or that the person might attack.

Wild is slowing down as he gets closer to the camp. The exercise helped burn off excess energy and it will be nice to walk off the last bit to cool down. Then there’s a shout and something slams into his chest.

It’s Warriors swinging the fire rod. It lands across his chest hard enough that something cracks. Wild makes an aborted sound and hits the ground. It jostles the rib and, ow, that’s not going to be fun to deal with.

Then there’s a red glow in his face. On the other end of the fire rod, now glowing with magic, Warriors face is twisted into a snarl. “Don’t move.”

“It’s me! It’s Wild!” The champion coughs, one hand coming to clutch his chest. How much force did the captain swing with?

“I’m not falling for that lie. I can see your outfit.”

“That’s just it!” Another cough. “It’s an outfit! Look, I have the slate.” He holds it up, then coughs again. In the dim moonlight, he looks down to find blood on his hand. Ah. More then a cracked rib, then. That can’t be good.

“What’s going on?” Time approaches, naked steel shining in the dim moonlight. “Is that—”

“Dark Link. Says it’s Wild.”

Wild coughs, then keeps on coughing. Each one makes his chest jump and heave. Pain lights his sense on fire until he can’t focus on the situation at hand. He taps at the slate onehanded. Finally, the set headpiece vanishes.

Warriors steps back as Wild’s hair appears, falling loose around his shoulders. “Champ? That really you?”

He nods, then looks down at his head. Blood gleams. “Lucky you didn’t have a sword; would have cut me in half.”

Wild doesn’t get to hear the spluttered answer, because he passes out.

#Seeing Double #whumptober2023 #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu whumptober #breannasfluff #mywriting #lu wild #lu warriors

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promptsforyourwhumpfic · 6 months

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Whump Prompt #1294

Whumptober #26: Seeing Double

A slaps B across the face the second they’re close enough to one another. Then they hug them, pulling them close to make sure that B is really there. They had to do several double takes before they even crossed the room in B’s direction because;

“There’s no way in hell you survived that!” A says. B rubs their already scraped cheek and smiles through their split lip.

“I’ve got nine lives.” B laughs.

“And only three left! Now get to medical before I bring you down to two!”

#whumptober2023 #whump #writing #prompts #angst #reuniting #seeing double #ideas #worry

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99point9percentwhump · 6 months

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Whumptober 2023 26 - seeing double / you look awful

The Lieutenant S1E20

#whumptober 2023 #day 26 #seeing double #you look awful #vintage whump #the Lieutenant #sick #woozy #collapse #worry #face touching #appendicitis

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hugsandchaos · 3 months

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Seeing Double

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

*bangs pots and pans together* @vixen-uchiha, @starlightcat04, @blueliac, @lenacraft, @admiralwidow, @fuckingfaraway, @little-apricot-orchard, @sithlordchimchnga, @buymeanewlaptopty, @deeterzz, @jaylaxyart99, @phant0mc1d3, @idiosolcrasy, @dehydrated-bread, @rubber-ducky-your-the-one, @randomenglishmajor, @mushroomymoss, I MADE MORE JUICE!!!

For the past few weeks, Danielle had been staying in the Cave. After explaining the full story to Red Tornado, some of the details unknown to them for some reason, and he spoke with Batman, their friend’s clone had been given permission to live there. As long as she trained and or some sort of education. This was definitely acceptable to both ghosts. Danielle had started training, and not just with Phantom, and her brother would teach her a thing or two when they weren’t training.

Most of his lessons consisted of scenarios where she’d need to try to patch herself up incase she needed to, which she apparently didn’t know as well as he did. It was interesting how similar ectoplasm was to blood when it came to wounds. She wasn’t allowed on missions, though. That should’ve been obvious, but it actually surprised Danielle. It took a bit of arguing and convincing from Phantom to get her to understand, but she reluctantly stayed behind. She was bitter for a while and took her training a little more seriously after that. Overall, she was a great addition to her friend group.

At the moment, it was around 8:02 PM and Danielle was helping Megan cook dinner. Phantom was doing some kind of assignment on the couch with Conner sitting on the opposite end of the couch. Danielle moved around to catch the items and put them on the counter as Megan used her telekinesis to pull them from the fridge and pantry. Danielle nearly missed grabbing the glass jar of sauce, but caught it and placed it down carefully.”And, that’s all we need!” Megan said. She turned around and smiled seeing the ingredients neatly placed on the island counter.”Thanks for your help, Danielle.” She said.

The young ghost smiled.”No sweat off my back. Now how is this one made?” She asked. She enjoyed watching Megan cook, as odd as the Martian thought it was, and she hadn’t seen her use this recipe yet. Megan took another look at the tablet.

She used her telekinesis to open a cabinet and pulled a medium bowl out of it. She set it on the table as she also got a measuring cup.”We need to stir the ricotta cheese, 1/2 cup parmesan cheese, and eggs in this bowl and then set it aside.” She said. Both her and Danielle started on that first step.

On the couch, it was pleasantly quiet. Both boys left each other to their thoughts. Phantom had a notebook in his lap and a textbook set on the arm of the couch. Both the textbook and his handwriting were in a language that Phantom just settled on calling “ghost speak” since he didn’t know what else to call it due to the actual name of the language being surprisingly difficult to translate to English. Megan took a really wild guess and said that it could be a difference between being dead and being alive that made the translation difficult.

Right now, he was focused on that while Conner took the time to think. He had some conflicted feelings about the situation. On one end, he was happy. He had someone to relate to a little better. He saw that there were actually people who had good relationships with their clones, even taking them under their wing. He was more convinced that there was a chance that if his original saw the way they interacted, he might do the same.

On the other hand, however, he was jealous. Conner didn’t want to admit it, even to himself, but it was unfortunately true. He couldn’t even relate to Danielle on a level he wished he could because Phantom didn’t practically ignore her existence for her being his clone. It made him feel a little more alone than before. He also didn’t think that letting Superman meet Danielle was a good idea because Phantom was already mad at him because of what he said last time he was there.

He made the room’s temperature drop by around 20 degrees in a matter of seconds and didn’t take his eyes off the league member until he left. It was probably best to avoid both the argument that would undoubtedly happen between them and what he might say to Danielle if he found out she was also a clone.

“Are you okay?” Phantom spoke up. Conner blinked and turned to him.”Are you okay?” The ghost repeated. Conner nodded. This earned a look of suspicion from Phantom.

Oh. Right. The whole “smelling emotions” thing.

Conner briefly glanced back at the two girls chatting away, sharing stories about their experiences on Earth, then leaned in closer.”Are you going to let her meet Superman?” He asked in a hushed tone. Phantom’s gaze hardened.

He shook his head.”Absolutely not. I’d like to avoid it as much as possible.” He whispered. Conner was a little relieved to hear that. He opened his mouth again to tell him that he’d help him do that, but he was cut off.

“Hey, big bro? What happens if Megan eats ectoplasm?” Danielle called.

Phantom immediately shot up from the couch, knocking both his books and his pencil onto the floor.”No!!!” He instinctively shouted. He quickly flew over to Danielle and Megan to see if he needed to snatch anything from them. Megan laughed at him as he checked the counter. Conner couldn’t resist a small smile, either. It was pretty funny.

Danielle also laughed at him as Phantom realized there wasn’t any in the food or in their possession. He crossed his arms.”Ha, ha, very funny.” He said, obviously unimpressed. Danielle calmed down enough to speak.

“I know it’s funny! I wouldn’t actually give her ectoplasm.” She said. Phantom gave her a pretty disapproving look, but her smile didn’t falter.”I just wanted to annoy you.” She said. Phantom’s eyes widened and seemed more irritated than before. Danielle did her best not to laugh at him.

“You have five seconds to start running.” He said. The younger ghost quickly fled the room and Phantom waited, counting down from five out loud. Once he reached one, he went invisible and vanished from Megan’s and Conner’s sight.

Soon enough, they’d hear the pleading screams of a younger sibling being mercilessly chased by their older brother.

#not as long as I would’ve liked #but i still like how it turned out #dp x yj #yj conner #yj megan #yj #yj x dp #Danny phantom #danielle phantom #Danny phantom being a good big brother to Danielle #Seeing Double #danny phantom crossover #young justice crossover #comments are appreciated!

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pedrito-friskito · 1 year

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seeing double - dieter bravo x fem!reader

summary: you and dieter make a deal: you’ll attend his hollywood halloween party, but under the guise that the two of you have never met before. if he can seduce you by the end of the night, you’ll give him something extra special. but things don’t go exactly as planned…

warnings: NO SMUT HERE (sorry folks but next time I promise 😏), exposition, one non-consensual kiss (not from dieter), fighting, a few punches are thrown, angsty angsty angst

a/n: y’all do NOT understand how excited I am to share this. three for three is always a special story to me and finally continuing the saga is the BEST. I can’t wait to share what’s coming next!! 😈

🍂kay’s autumn adventures🍂

“C’moooooooon, baby,” he’s whining, the words drawn out and high-pitched. “It would be so much fun.” The end of his sentence is punctuated by a sharp nip at your side, making your back arch as you try to squirm away from him. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.”

You let out a giggle as he bites at you again, his grip around your waist tightening as you thrash a bit in the blankets, squealing as he drags you closer. “Dieter!”

“I’ll be so bored if you don’t come,” he grumbles, lowering his face to your stomach, scraping his scruffy cheek against your skin. “I don’t wanna go if you don’t go.”

You roll your eyes. “Isn’t this a paid appearance, Bravo?”

“Doesn’t count if they’re paying you in weed,” he replies, a brow quirked as he looks up at you. He squeezes your hips. “Come on, baby. You signed up for this, you know.”

“Oh, did I?”

He gives you a feral grin. “You did. It was in the contract.”

“What contract?”

He lifts his head, a faux-puzzled expression on his face. “You don’t remember? That night, we got really drunk and went to McDonald’s and I asked you to be my girlfriend.” You bark a laugh. “You signed a contract, baby.” He yanks you against his chest, body covering yours as he moves up the bed, planting a hand beside your head and leaning down to bury his face in your neck. “You’re mine.” You squeal again as he nips at your throat, other hand moving to squeeze your ribs. “Them’s the rules, sweet cheeks.”

You keep giggling as he litters your body with kisses. The contract is a load of shit; you haven’t signed anything except a few NDAs when you visited Dieter on movie sets. But the drunken McDonald’s? A common memory for you two, but you know exactly what night he’s referring to. He didn’t ask you to be his girlfriend, per se, but it was close enough.

After the awards, after he’d asked you to stay, after you’d finally relented and gave into what you really wanted. The weekend was a blur of sex and drugs and alcohol, after-parties and dodging photographers. You’d perfected your hermit look — a pair of sunglasses and one of Dieter’s gigantic hoodies — and you had to admit, the way he’d tucked you under his arm and shielded you from the paparazzi had done something, the protective look in his eye making your chest swell.

But sure enough, after one of his co-star’s after-parties had been shut down because of fire regulations, you’d both stumbled out into the night drunk as anything, and there wasn’t a camera in sight. “I’m starving,” you’d crowed, hanging off Dieter’s arm. “Who the fuck serves h’ors d’oeuvres all fucking night? There wasn’t a chip bowl in sight.”

Dieter paused on the street corner, reaching into his suit pocket for a lighter and a joint. He cupped his hand over the flame as he lit the end, took a deep inhale before passing it to you. “What are you craving?”

You’d given him a feral grin, closing the distance, blowing your smoke over your shoulder before your chest was pressed to his, free hand snaked between the two of you to cup him over his slacks. He gave you a dopey smile in return, one arm looped around your waist.

“Bad girl.”

You shook your head, giving him innocent doe eyes, pouting your lips. “Nuh-uh, I’m your good girl, D.”

His face changed, expression going from light and airy to dark and lusty. “Damn fucking right,” he grumbled, a hard kiss pressed to the underside of your jaw. He pulled your hand away, looking over his shoulder as he disguised the mini-grope session as a little public display of affection, knotting his fingers with yours and starting to walk across the intersection. Cars whizzed by on the road and Dieter tucked you under his arm, his slung around your shoulders while yours ended up around his waist, dipped into his back pocket.

McDonald’s was the first fast food joint you stumbled upon, and you were nearly bursting with delight as you stepped inside, Dieter holding the door open and ushering you through. You ordered far too much food for just two of you, and the cashier was looking at Dieter the entire time with a holy fuck, is that Dieter Bravo? expression on his face, but he didn’t say anything.

The two of you chatted away over fries and nuggets and a strawberry milkshake that nearly made you cry, and at one point or another, Dieter had produced a pen from his pocket, snagged a napkin from your stack, and started scribbling away. You watched, your head cocked to the side, trying to figure out what he was scrawling on the paper. He tried to shield it after a moment, but you laughed and batted his hand away. “I wanna see!”

Ten minutes later, and his masterpiece was complete. He spun the napkin on the table, tucking the pen behind his ear, and pushed his work towards you.

It was you.

Arbitrary and not nearly as detailed as you’d seen his other portraits, but it was easy to tell. He’d even gotten the detail of your earrings, the little stones in your lobes that dropped into a little cascade of jewels. And, scrawled beneath it in his own hurried font:

you love me. check one box.

[ ] yes

[ ] no

You’d shouted a laugh, leaning forward to snag the pen from his ear, tapping the end against his nose as you sat back, pulling the napkin towards you and covering your answer with your hand. Dieter didn’t say anything, didn’t protest like you had, but you could feel his eyes on your face, not the pen. You stared back at him for a long moment, teeth catching on your bottom lip as you wrote out your answer, and a question of your own beneath.

[ x ] obviously

you love me back?

[ ] yes

[ ] no

You bit the end of the pen as you pushed the paper back to him. His eyes flared as he read what you’d written, holding his hand out for the pen. You handed it to him and a nervous riot of butterflies erupted through your stomach, the french fries turning to a lead weight as you watched the end of the pen move through the air, the ink covered by his hand.

He stared you down as he slid the napkin back.

[ x ] more than you know, baby

Nervous laughter spouted from you as you leaned across the table, barely noticing the way your milkshake tumbled to the floor, and grabbed the collar of his shirt, hauling him up out of his own seat to kiss him hard. You were both a mess of giggles and mumbled words of affection as you stuffed the napkin in your purse and pulled Dieter from the restaurant.

You caught a cab back to his apartment, and by some stroke of luck, there were no cameras chasing you there either. You were grateful, to have one moment with him that wouldn’t be strewn across the tabloids come sun-up. As soon as the elevator doors closed, he was on you, wrapping you up in his arms, kissing you absolutely breathless. It was different than any other kiss you’d had before, deeper and warmer and lovely.

“Did you mean it?” he asked later, after you’d stumbled into his apartment and into his bed, articles of clothing making a trail from the front door to the mattress. The sex had been as immaculate as ever, but just like his kisses, there’d been something more intense beneath the movements, the way he drove into you like it was the first time all over again.

(Except it wasn’t, because his eyes were on your face, not your back, and he’d kissed your mouth as he came.)

Blissed out beside him, pillow bunched beneath your head, you inched closer, mouth tucked against his shoulder, a soft kiss pressed to him. Soft, tender, lovely. So different, but somehow so familiar at the same time. “I did. Did you?”

“More than you know,” he’d murmured, cuddling against you, holding you close.

It’s taken some getting used to — on both your parts, you’d say. It’s foreign territory for you both, and you’re both…hesitant, in a way, taking careful steps towards each other. The sex isn’t a problem, it never has been, as the intensity that’s appeared only makes things that much better, that much more tangible. The feelings you’d shoved down for so long are allowed to walk around freely now, and you’re not used to it.

But you’re used to him.

You refuse to give up your apartment, drawing a line in the sand with Dieter that you want to keep your own space, just for now. He takes it the wrong way at first, thinking you mean it as a fail-safe, that you don’t think things are going to work between you. By the time you’ve talked it through, he’s understanding and no longer upset, but it shows you a side of him you hadn’t anticipated.

He’s an over-thinker, you come to see, and his anxieties mirror your own, to a degree. He never thought he’d be famous, growing up, and while he had that classic move to LA and work as a waiter until you get your big break backstory, there was more to it.

His parents were unsupportive, his older sister the only one who was really rooting for him. “I don’t see her as much as I should,” he told you, the subject of family coming up one weekend when you start talking holidays, where you’re going, what time you’ll have to spend with each other. The fact that you want to spend holidays together is a new thing for you both, already discussing a budget for Christmas presents — “no, Dieter, you cannot buy me private jet, and no, I don’t care how convenient it would be.” — and agreeing completely that you’ll spend New Years on a beach somewhere.

His parents passed the same year he won his Oscar, and his sister lives on the other side of the country. “I hope I get to meet her someday,” you admitted, and Dieter kissed your cheek, chin pinched in his fingers.

“You will, baby, promise.”

The conversation quickly veered away from family after that, you still a little reluctant to offer as many details as he had, and the subject of Halloween took its place. Along with Dieter’s adamant request that you join him at a Halloween party thrown by old co-stars of his.

“You don’t even like Sean Knox,” you counter, more giggles pulled from your throat as he kisses his way from one hip to the other. “Why spend our first Halloween together drunk at a party with people you don’t even like?”

He’s got the elastic of your underwear between his teeth, and lets it snap back against your waist. “Keywords there, baby: drunk and together.” Dieter grabs at your thigh, pushing until your knee bends up towards his face and he can drag his mouth over the curve of it. “Come on, it’ll be fun. We’ll get dressed up and eat way too much candy and I’ll get those edibles that you like and then afterwards, maybe we can—”

The idea sparks in your brain somewhere between edibles and afterwards, and you reach out, two fingers hooked under Dieter’s chin to turn his face towards yours.

“I have an proposition for you, Bravo.”

His brow lifts, eyes on yours but mouth twisted back to your leg. “I’m listening.”

You explain yourself, your idea, the prize waiting for him at the end of it all if he’s successful. Those honey-chocolate eyes are on yours the entire time, occasionally raking your body when you say something salacious, pupils widening like dinner plates. He’s excited, it’s easy to tell, and he rolls his hips into yours once you’re done explaining, pulling a gasp from your mouth. You wait for his next move, not missing the way his cock is hard as a rock behind his thin boxers when he pushes into you.

But instead, he yanks himself away from you, grinning, and gets off the bed, heading towards the door

“Where are you going?” you shout, a little out of breath, propping yourself up on your elbows. “I wasn’t finished!”

“I have to start planning,” he tells you, pausing in the doorway, turning to wink at you. “See you later, baby.”

Dieter won’t so much as hint at his costume idea, but yours comes far too easily. It’s obvious, really, in hindsight, and you’re almost mad you didn’t think of it sooner. And the bonus: completely cost-free.

The night of the party rolls around quickly, and you’re grateful as hell. Dieter has been a fucking menace, all too happy to take your idea for the evening and all out sprint with it. You hadn’t anticipated him getting this into it, but it’s definitely making you hotter by the day.

“That night,” you’d said, “we don’t know each other. You’ve never seen me before in your life, and you have until midnight to seduce me.”

His fingers had twitched on your thigh, the corner of his mouth quirking in a grin. “And what do I win?”

You’d spelled out the prize as graphically as you could. His mouth had dropped completely open, bottom lip nearly trembling, eyes glazed over. It was something you’d discussed before, something that was truthfully as much a prize for you as it was for him, but making him earn it? You had to lift your hips right then and there, trying to chase some sort of friction before he’d rolled his hips and made you moan.

That had been three days ago, and the three days leading up to the party, menace isn’t even the right way to describe him.

Teasing isn’t even the right adjective. He hasn’t picked up the I don’t know you act just yet, but he’s definitely tried his hand at seducing you. And in the comfort of his apartment or yours, it works. It always works, and you know already you’ll have to be on your A-game for the party, if you want this little game to last you the evening.

It’s also three days since you’ve had sex, which is a record in itself since you two officially became the two of you. When it was just sex, with your strict rules and his (you now know reluctant) agreement, it was normal; you had separate schedules, were often on opposite ends of the country or world, and you had to make things work when the timing aligned. Whether that be him showing up at your apartment in the dead of night, or vice versa, but things have changed since. You spend most of your time at his apartment, a copy of his key having materialized itself on your keychain one weekend.

Regardless, the teasing. You haven’t had sex, but there’s been an endless amount of touching, kissing, hips rutted into your ass, a hand plunged down the front of your pants while you’re cooking dinner, his weight pressing you into the mattress before bed but refusing to move, to give you any kind of friction. And the same shit-eating grin on his face when he stops, leaves you gasping, leaves your blood on fire and your thighs clenching.

The plan is to arrive separately to the party. You’re both on the list, so getting in won’t be a problem, and then the game begins. You’re antsy, in the back of your Uber. Dieter was still getting ready when you left, though your phone shows his location as inside the large house looming over the curb as the car stops. You thank the driver, shoving your phone in your pocket as you get out and head for the front door. The bouncer checks your ID, marks your name off the list, and you’re in. Simple.

The house is a mess of faces you know and don’t, recognize off the covers of tabloids and TMZ articles but don’t know personally. Dieter’s made a point to introduce you to all of his friends, and a few genuinely familiar faces say hello as you make your way through the throng of people. A few stop you, drunkenly laughing over your costume, telling you it’s the best one at the party. You laugh along with them, twirling the belt of the robe through your fingers, pushing the sunglasses up your nose. “You look just like him!”

A mutual friend who knows you two are an item lowers her voice and whispers in your ear. “Are those his clothes?”

You laugh. “Obviously. Authenticity is key.”

“Fucking brilliant.”

He hadn’t noticed the few items that had gone missing from his closet; you were careful to only take ones he had duplicates of, the sage-coloured robe and the purple t-shirt, patterned green shorts and tortoise-shell sunglasses that are a little too big for your face. The hair doesn’t match, sure, and you’d contemplated a wig, but ultimately decided against, opting to throw your hair up in a messy bun instead.

You mingle and suck back a few drinks, scanning the crowds for Dieter. The problem, you realize, is you have no idea what he’s dressed as, so you don’t really know what you’re looking for. Mask or no mask, the sea of faces makes you even more antsy. You want the game to start already.

And then there’s a voice from behind you, a familiar throat cleared before he says: “I gotta tell you, the resemblance is uncanny.”

You turn around, beer bottle clutched in your hand, and clap your hand over your mouth to suppress the giggles that immediately spring forth.

Dieter — no, not Dieter — the Mandalorian stands before you, dressed head to toe in silver armour. Your jaw drops as you take in the detail, the rifle slung over his shoulder, the cape brushing the back of his calves. Even the helmet is perfect, and your breath hitches in your chest as he hooks his fingers under the edge and lifts, revealing his face. He’s even shaved his face to match the bounty hunter’s, less scruff lining his jaw and more of a moustache than anything else. Dieter grins at you as he reaches past you for a fresh beer, tilting the bottle to his lips, eyes raking over you as you lean back against the counter, hip cocked to the side.

He offers you a gloved hand, and you take it, shaking it slowly. The game has started, and you can feel it, grinning up at him as he meets your eyes. “Have we met before?”

You pull your hand back, shaking your head. “I don’t think so. I try to remember all the metal-covered men I encounter at parties.”

“Good to know,” he answers, and gestures to your outfit. “I’d tell you my name, but I’m pretty sure you know who I am.”

“Din Djarin?” you ask, and he laughs. You’d watched the show together, your nerdy excitement rubbing off on Dieter. You cock your head to the side. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Bravo,” you continue, looking up at him through your lashes. “I’m a big fan, in case you couldn’t tell.” You reach out, letting your fingers trace over the chest plate. It’s real metal, and you’re not surprised; leave it to Dieter to go all out on a costume. Especially one he knew you’d enjoy.

His head dips then, mouth right by your ear, and you can feel his breath on your neck as he speaks. “I thought I was the one seducing you tonight,” he murmurs, and you grin wide, moving out from under his gaze, beer bottle dangling from your fingers.

“See you around, Mando,” you call, looking at him over your shoulder with a wink. The helmet slowly sinks back into place and you just giggle as you disappear into the crowd.

The next few hours are spent similarly. You dance around each other, in every sense of the word, even sliding onto the dance floor at Dieter’s quiet request. His hands on your hips are familiar, yours searching beneath the metal plates for the slope of his shoulders. But with every meeting, you slip away first, a teasing smile on your face, leaving him to chase you, boots thunking after you. Sometimes he lets you go, watches you dodge and weave your way through groups of people, starting conversation to throw off his plans. You’re half a step ahead of him most of the night, until he corners you in the kitchen, your back pressed into fridge as he looms over you.

“I’m throwing in the towel,” he murmurs, and your jaw drops, an amused gasp falling out of you as he lifts his helmet. “You’re too fucking cute, baby, and I just wanna dance with you and get high and take you home, please.” The words are accompanied with a heady touch, gloved hands roaming your body beneath his robe, squeezing your ass, hips, tits. It sparks a fire in your blood and you lean your face up to his, your nose skimming his. “Please, baby.”

“The game isn’t over yet, D,” you reply, slowly disentangling yourself from him. You’re a little drunk, yes, but you’re having too much fun to give in just yet, to have him give up so easily. The night is still young. “You’re the one dressed as a bounty hunter.” You spread your arms wide, the universal gesture for come and get me as you beckon him with your hands, sunglasses slipping down your nose. “So, hunt.”

He actually starts to chase you. Room after room, through the crowds of people. You do your best to blend in, camouflaging with the groups of people. You even hide behind the DJ booth at one point, giggling behind your beer with one of your friends as you watch that silver helmet march its way through the room, completely oblivious to your hiding spot.

But it’s when you lose track of him, that’s when things go south.

You’ve abandoned your beer bottle for a red solo cup full of water, and now it’s you that’s abandoning the chase. You want to be caught; you wanna go get high and take your walking hunk of metal home, peel that armour off of him until he’s Dieter again, and you’re you again, and you can tell him how much you love him. A few of your friends have said goodbye, and the party is starting to dwindle. You’re in the kitchen again, leaned against the doorway, the DJ having swapped the party music for something a bit slower. Your eyes scan the doorways, tucked in your corner, waiting for that silver helmet to walk past.

You’re too preoccupied looking for Dieter, you nearly miss the James Bond-looking motherfucker waltz in, martini glass filled with dark liquid that is notably not a martini. He bee-lines for you, breath like lighter fluid. “Hey there,” he slurs, stalking towards you.

“Hey,” you respond half-heatedly, trying to fish your phone out of the pocket of the robe so you can text Dieter. “You should get some water, dude, you smell like a distillery.” The guy laughs and you pull your phone out.

When you look up, James Bond is suddenly on top of you, arms caging you in, whiskey breath invading your nose. You try to go low, but he catches you shoulders, hauling you up instead of down, and pushes you against the wall, greasy face pressed against your neck, tongue on your pulse. You want to barf as he tries to drag his mouth up to yours, both hands shoving at his chest. He manages one disgusting kiss before you push harder, getting some space, trying to shove him again. You open your mouth to shout just as the DJ changes the music to something loud and upbeat, earning hoorays from the remaining crowd.

“Get the fuck off me!” you shout, your words getting lost in the noise. You kick hard, aiming between his legs, hoping you hit something vital that’ll send him toppling. Before your foot can deliver something painful, there’s the clang of metal, a deep growl, and James Bond is yanked backwards. You gasp for air, hands scrabbling for the wall.

Dieter stands in the middle of the kitchen, James Bond hauled against him, holding the guy by the lapels of his cheap suit jacket. “You got a fucking death wish, man?” Dieter spits, dark eyes flaring. You’ve never seen him this angry before; hell, you don’t think you’ve seen him angry before, not when he wasn’t acting. “Piece of shit!”

It’s a blur. You don’t know who swings first, but in a flash, Dieter is on the ground, metal banging against tile, and James Bond manages to deliver a solid right hook, connecting with Dieter’s face with a loud crunch that makes you cringe. You catch a stupid asshole! and a fucking prick! but it’s hard to tell who says what. The martini glass hit the floor in the shuffle, glass spread across the ground, and you surge forward, shoving at James Bond until he teeters sideways, losing his grip on Dieter’s front and toppling over.

You pull Dieter to his feet, and he’s still cursing and grunting, trying to push past you, trying to swing for James Bond again. “Dieter, stop,” you growl, pushing against him hard, grabbing his face in one hand and forcing his eyes down to yours. “We’re leaving.”

A crowd has started to form, and you don’t say a word as the two of you make your way out of the party. Dieter’s face is bloody, twin streams dripping from his nose, and part of you is worried it’s broken, but he doesn’t seem to notice, his brow furrowed with anger, glancing over his shoulder the entire way out. You have to literally push him out the door.

“Would you quit it?” you curse at him, planting both palms on the fake jet pack strapped to his back and pushing. “What the fuck was that in there?”

“He was touching you!” Dieter roars, nearly stumbling across the grass, closing the distance you’d created with your shove. “He was touching you, and you’re mad at me? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Anyone could have pulled out a camera in there, Dieter,” you scold, crossing your arms over your chest. “You really want that streaming on TMZ tomorrow? Dieter Bravo’s drunken brawl or some bullshit like that. What happens to your career then?”

“I don’t fucking care!” he yells, throwing his hand towards the house. “He put his hands on you!”

“You’re lucky he didn’t knock your fucking teeth out,” you shake your head, reaching for your phone. You let out a heavy sigh when the screen refuses to light up; dead battery. “Give me your phone.”

“No,” he replies, stubborn, crossing his arms, blood dripping over his top lip. “I’m walking home.” With that, he takes off towards the sidewalk, cape billowing in the night air behind him. You watch him take a few steps, a glob of blood spat onto the cement before you’re jogging to catch up with him.

“D, c’mon, baby,” you try, your tone soothing instead of brash. You jumped the gun, yelling like that. He was trying to defend you, right? That’s what all that was. “Give me your phone. I’ll call us an Uber and we can go home and smoke and—”

“Did you kiss him?”

Your mind is reeling enough already. The last fifteen minutes have felt like fifteen years, and your now half-buzzed brain is struggling to keep up. You can still smell James Bond’s kerosene breath, that phantom fear that had covered you as he’d forced himself on you. It makes your skin tingle unpleasantly just knowing it happened, without having to recount the story in your head.

Dieter has stopped, not turned towards you but looking at you over his shoulder. His eyes are big and wet and sad, his nose and chin a mess of blood, and you just stare at him.

“What?”

“You heard what I said.”

“Did I?” you throw back, pulling his robe tighter around you. Is it the evening air, or the conversation that’s making you feel so cold? It’s hard to tell. “Thought I’d give you the benefit of the doubt and let you try again.”

“Tell me,” he spits, still not turning towards you.

“You’re drunk, Dieter.”

“Tell me.”

You start laughing. And it’s not happy laughter, not the sweet giggles and chuckles that have been passed between you two like air. It’s anxious, upset, I cannot physically believe this is happening right now laughter. There are tears in your eyes, wet and hot, and they slide down your cheeks as you shake your head at him. “Are you actually asking me that?”

He doesn’t respond. Still doesn’t turn to you.

“I don’t know what kind of macho, alpha-male bullshit you’re trying to pull here, Bravo,” you start, your voice cracking on the words, “but now is not the fucking time. We are drunk and I…” You fling your hand back towards the party. “I never asked for any of this, okay? I don’t want it! Any of it!”

Now, he turns.

“What?”

“I don’t belong in this bullshit!” you cry, and you’re not totally sure where the words are coming from now. It’s an endless stream, provoked by the alcohol running through your veins, everything that’s happened pushing it all over the edge. “I’m not built for it, all right? The cameras and the parties and the drinking and you—”

“Me?” Dieter repeats, and the tone in his voice makes your heart break. He takes a step towards you, one hand extended like a peace offering. “Baby, fuck, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to blow up like that. I saw him with his fucking hands on you and I just lost it. It doesn’t matter if you kissed him, I was just so—”

“Then why did you ask?” you throw back, cutting him off, taking a step back. “If it doesn’t matter, then why the fuck did you ask?”

He sighs, puts his face in his hands. He’s still covered in blood, and you fish a tissue from the pocket of the robe. He doesn’t say anything as you hand it to him, but then you wipe the tears from your face with the sleeve of his robe.

“I’m drunk,” he says after a beat, and you scoff with laughter. Like that answers everything. “And so are you, and so are all the people in that party. And it’s late and I just wanna go home with you, baby, please? Can we just go home, please?”

You think about it. A long moment passes, and you just think about it. There’s too much truth already hanging in the air between you, your own anxious thoughts spoken out loud, things you’ve only been thinking internally up until now. It feels like an exposed nerve, and you don’t know your way around it; no matter what you say, what you do, it’s gonna hurt in one way or another.

“I’m gonna go home,” you finally say, and you almost see the way he deflates, chest caving in, head hanging as blood drips down his chin and onto the metal chest plate of his costume, “and you should go home. But I don’t think we should go home together.”

“Baby,” Dieter starts, his voice thick. “No, please, c’mon, let’s talk about this, please?” You shake your head, turning on your heel back towards the house. You’ll find one of your friends still inside, order an Uber for yourself, go home to your own apartment.

“I’m gonna go inside,” you say, turning around, walking backwards away from him. “Don’t be here when I come back out, please?”

You don’t wait for his response.

Dieter walks home.

It takes nearly two hours, but he doesn’t care. He looks like a complete fool, he knows, his helmet gone, still laying on the kitchen floor, probably covered in whiskey or blood or a combination. His boots feel like lead weights, dragging him down with every step, and the sky is just starting to lighten by the time he reaches his building.

He cries in the elevator. The tissue you’d given him is soaked in blood and tears, and his face aches. He doesn’t think his nose is broken, and the bleeding has mostly stopped, but he’s pretty sure he’s gonna have a black eye. Oh well, he deserves it.

His apartment is painfully quiet as he steps through the door. You’re not there; no one is. No one’s there to watch him peel off the armour right there in the foyer, the cape and pauldrons falling to ground, gloves and chest plate banging loudly on the floor. No one’s there to watch him stalk towards his bedroom, fiddling with the belt around his waist, sniffling loudly.

No one’s there to watch him fish the little black velvet box out of one of the pouches, snapping it open, staring down at the ring that winks up at him. Every plan he had is out the window, and hot tears sting at his eyes.

He’d planned it out. Once the night was over, once the game was won, you’d leave the party, find the nearest McDonald’s. There would have been milkshakes and chicken nuggets and he would have snagged a stack of napkins. He’d doodle on a few, throwing you off the scent, and then write down the most important question he’s ever thought about asking:

marry me? check one box.

[ ] yes

[ ] no

He’d been sure of your answer, earlier in the day. Before the party, he was sure. He was confident. He’s not perfect, far from it, but you made him feel like he was the closest thing to. You brought the better traits of Dieter Bravo to the surface in a way that no one else ever has, accepted the not-so-great ones, made him want to be a better person, and he liked it. Loved it.

Loved you.

Loves you.

But then he had to go and fuck it all up.

No one’s there to watch him launch the box into the back of his closet, shout at himself in anger, put his fist through the wall before he collapses into bed and buries his nose in your pillow.

No one’s there to watch. You’re not there.

—————

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