Au idea ahead: If pyro and avid had interacted more early on (Fireshot implied? It's platonic but can also be seen as romantic in early canon (or the whole thing if u want to see it as such)
Early canon (ep 1):
Pyro sparks an interest in Avid's knowledge of Vampires (also Shelby, but it's fairly similar to canon). So they exchange information with one another. Avid with vampires and Pyro with his studies on Oakhurst so far. Since then a bond was made between them.
That is until the night turned red. What will the hunter do when he discovers the monster the scholar has become.
In canon: (this is where the doomed part starts)
Ep 3: As Avid was walking in the woods after 'exiling' himself, he stumbled upon Scott and Pyro. As speculated, Scott turned into a bat! And...PYRO?!? Avid wasn't sure wether he should overjoyed by this discovery or rather, disappointed...
Ep 4 - 8: As the episodes went on, their bond grew worse. Avid wouldn't listen to a single word Pyro had to say, due to his trust issues with them. Splashed by holy water is how their interactions usually go, to the point where Pyro grew annoyed at him.
When Avid joined the coven, Pyro was enraged. It was like the biggest joke they could ever ask for. How ironic for the hunter to become the hunted. And he wanted to turn back immediately? Pathetic.
When avid got staked, it was fairly the same as canon. Well, maybe Pyro was more eager to do it here.
He knew he would be staked sooner or later. Shelby managed to grab the injured sire and pulled out Avid's stake, in which she took after his demise. The stake went through his chest, it felt like burning.
Pyro was expecting to be taken or teleported to the dark pits of the underworld. But this was... different.
He just simply.....stayed there.
Post canon
Pyro's soul never got to leave. Is this his punishment? A decade after their death, Shelby made him a grave. But, it didn't change anything. He was still, there.
And within the blink of an eye, a whole century has passed. By then, Pearl and Cleo would've noticed his presence, but neither of the pair could see him.
Same for the rest of the coven. Whenever Shelby, Drift, and Scott came by they wouldn't notice him either. The only things that are able to see him are animals. So he atleast had some form of communication, although not the best.
It's the year 2006, Pyro was walking around the woods when suddenly, he felt a familiar aura. At first he ignored it but as days passed it felt stronger. So he finally gave in and went to wherever his guts led him.
....
Avid's grave. Pyro didn't know what this meant, until a sudden hand reached out from inside.
...This isn't right....No. He's dead....
How???
The hand didn't look like Avid's though. It was dark and had claws longer than a vampire's.
After a long session of consideration and possibilities, Pyro decided to help 'Avid' and pulled him out of his grave. But what came out of it was, fascinating. It looked like Avid but, different. Something felt off, but it was Avid nonetheless, right?
...."Avid?"
His face was nothing normal. Neither his physical appearance nor reaction. Not only was he in shock, but he was also looking directly at Pyro.
Update: Pearl can also see pyro (i completely forgot she's a werewolf lol)
Five months into his demise, he was talking to dorito to pass the time. Suddenly, a voice called out from behind. "Pyro?" She asked. He turned around to see pearl.
They couldn't believe it, for once, a person could actually see him.
They stepped closer to eachother. Until pyro completely broke down in front of pearl and hugged her.
Pyro never thought not being able to communicate was such torture, especially as someone who keeps to themselves most of the time. They've never been this relieved in all of his 'life'.
Pearl didn't immedietely tell cleo regarding pyro, as he wasn't comfortable for others to know of his existence yet.
(Im guessing Cleo found out around a few years after his death)
Notes: This is a pale parody to what I originally had planned. Because I stupidly wrote it within tumblr and didn’t save it before hitting post and had the page glitch and reload on me instead. /rage This is part 2 to the Demon AU
---
They could not find the body.
The torches had been relit and all that was there were broken chains and an odd parody of had been the Barrier Seal. Ra’s was nearly beside himself with fury as he ordered everyone within the fortress awake and on high alert.
Damian had every intention of joining the manhunt, but instead found himself returning to his chambers. He wasn’t even aware of such a decision until he stopped short at the sight of the man standing in the center of his room.
“Who--”
“Your essence is most at peace here.”
“Grayson...?” Even as Damian breathed the question, he knew he was wrong.
It wasn’t in the physical aspects, although they were a bit of a dead giveaway. Pale skin with near hints of blue veins peaking through, along with eyes so gold they nearly shone in the dim light. No, it was in the pull Damian felt. It was nothing like the charisma Richard once had. This was unnatural. Twisted. And infinitely stronger, Damian realized as he suddenly found himself mere feet away from the intruder.
“What are you?” he demanded.
“What am I? You called for me. You prayed for me. And you don’t know what I am?” The thing within Richard tilted his head in a mockery of amusement.
“I called for no one,” Damian argued. “I merely asked that this vessel be saved.”
“And I am saved thanks to you.” A hand came up and cool fingers caressed Damian’s cheek. “But you cannot offer such potent virgin’s blood to the Other Side and expect nothing to heed such a call. You need not worry, though.” The hand fell away and his voice lowered. “Because I agreed to what I have become.”
The sight of Richard’s wide stare as his lips hissed out “yes” flashed through Damian’s memory.
“What are you?” he repeated.
“I am Nightwing. And it is with my talons that you will overthrow Ra’s Al Ghul’s empire and make it your own. Because I am yours to command.” The gap between them closed. “And you are mine.”
A continuation of this, at the insistence of @o0o-chibaken-o0o.
Learning from his past mistake, Harry aimed for subtlety on his second attempt.
“You’ve been playing with that stupid handkerchief for days now,” Draco snapped. “I’m starting to think whoever gave it to you doused it in a love potion.”
Harry paused and looked down at the fabric in his hands. “I bought this,” he corrected.
Draco scoffed. “No one buys themselves handkerchiefs anymore. They’re meant to be gifted as tokens of affection.”
Well that would explain Draco’s increasingly sour mood with him lately.
“Besides, what would anyone do with a dark blue handkerchief anyways? Everyone knows they’re meant to be white.”
“I bought it because I thought it might look good against your skin tone,” Harry admitted with a shy smile.
Draco frowned. “You bought it for me? Why haven’t you bothered to give it to me yet?” He put aside the newspaper and reached across the table, his palm open expectantly. “Honestly, Harry, gifts are meant to be wrapped and given promptly.”
Harry leaned back. “I don’t know if you actually want it, though.”
“What?” Draco leaned further forward, fingers wiggling. “Don’t be daft, of course I want it.”
“It’s meant to be a blindfold,” Harry blurted. “For the bedroom.”
Draco clearly didn’t catch on. “For...sleeping?”
“For sex?” Harry winced at how it came out like a question.
Draco’s eyes went wide as he quickly dropped back into his seat. The movement was enough and he abruptly stood.
“I. The bed--” he cleared his throat. “You - I - I need tea. Would you like--?” He didn’t even bother to finish the offer as he marched to the kitchen cupboards.
Harry’s chair scraped loudly against the dining room floor as he rushed to follow.
“Now, Draco. Draco! It’s not a big deal! Just something meant for fun!”
“Fun!” The laugh that followed the harsh echo sounded suspiciously like gigglewater. “We’re out of tea, I should--”
“The tin is still half-full! Can we please just--”
Mouth set in a hard line, Draco dumped the tea leaves out and made it a point to stomp on them several times.
“We need more tea.”
With the tin still clutched in his hands, he spun on the spot and disapperated with a crack.
I wonder if, on a strictly Life With The Waynes level, Bruce ever struggles against his older kids over influencing Damian.
Like, Bruce was born high class, eats his burgers with a fork and knife, wears cardigans when relaxing at home, probably doesn’t know the price of milk at the grocery store.
Then there’s all the adopted kids from lower-class backgrounds. Dick, who probably knows how to befriend rats and patch up tears in his clothes rather than buying new outfits. Jason, who has been known to dig a perfectly good bit of food out of the trash when hungry enough. Stephanie, who loves to bargain shop and second-hand stores. You can always tell when Tim isn’t staying at the manor due to how wrinkled his clothes will be.
And precious, impressionable Damian. Who goes through these...these phases shortly after hanging out with any of his siblings.
Prompt: DicK/Wally, Dick has a thing for redheads, so anything that focuses on the fact that Wally's hair down there is really red.
“You know, I’d tell you to take a picture because it’ll last longer, but I’d rather not have evidence of this moment in existence.”
Dick’s stare remained fixated just below Wally’s hipbones as if he hadn’t even heard.
“Dude, come on!” Wally’s affronted tone did nothing but cause a frown to appear on the Boy Wonder’s face as his hips cocked to the side, moving out of his direct line of sight. “Okay, seriously? You’re starting to freak me out a little.”
Dick knew he should care. His cool, suave image was being ruined. But, see, Wally’s curtain matched the carpet, so to speak. And that spattering of red hair that was peeking out above the sequined green speedos – his sequined green speedos – was far more enticing than it probably should have been.
“It’s like Christmas…” he breathed, finally breaking the awkward silence of the room.
He couldn’t help but wonder how Wally would react if he were to admit that he was fighting back the urge to nuzzle his friend’s groin.
“I can’t believe I even fit in these!” Wally oblivious continued on, his fingers played with one of the loose sequins. “How old were you when you wore them? Seven?”
Dick’s eyes narrowed and he reached forward to bat Wally’s hand away before returning to his relaxed position, perched on the edge of the bed. “Ten,” he corrected.
“Close enough. Can I take these off now? I’m pretty sure it’s cutting off my circulation and it’s starting to feel less like I’m having sex with myself and more like I’m about to be raped by some foreign object.”
Wally returned his hand to the panties and dipped a finger under the elastic, running it from one end of his lower abdomen to the other and back again in an effort to prove his point. The raw skin burned in protest to the touch as his newly-grown pubic hair was ruffled up from its flattened position.
Dick didn’t miss the sudden rise of goosebumps.
“Dick?”
“I’m thinking.”
Wally froze at the unexpected answer before squinting in suspicion. He had the suddenly overwhelming feeling that something was going on here that he was missing out on. When no explanation was forthcoming, he let out a huff and abruptly pulled down the over-decorated spanky pants.
“H-hey — a little warning before you go flashing me, Kid Flash!” Dick fell backwards on the bed, his hands covering his eyes and hiding most of his bright blush from Wally.
“Christmas just got canceled, Boy Wonder,” Wally shot back, as he grabbed his underwear up from the floor. “You’re being weird. Remind me to never let you corner me into a bet ever again.”
From behind his closed eyes, Dick could still see the dull red trailing down behind the sparkling green. Letting out a loud groan, he rolled onto his side. He was doomed.
Ok, so you all remember how, during their first year, Harry complained about how Draco was always boasting about flying? And how most of his stories ended with near-misses with helicopters?
What if that happened because of Harry?
Due to his natural (or forceful, take your pick) charisma, Draco is ridiculously good at storytelling. And one day, as he’s sharing his experience with a couple friends, he notices he’s gathering a crowd of fellow first years. So he starts to ham it up. His Nimbus no longer has Child-Safety Charms. He can fly circles around trees. Dive through clouds.
Holy shit, Harry Potter has stopped and is listening.
Draco raced a hawk once! Ok, technically he ran away from a hawk that was trying to peck his eyes out, but if it had been a race, he definitely would have won, seeing as how he still has both his eyes. But for the sake of his audience, it was a race.
Potter’s leaving. Why? Probably because he hates him.
And just like that, Draco doesn’t really feel like continuing on with his story anymore.
“The race ended with a muggle helicopter,” Draco finished with a shrug.
All around him, his peers gasp.
“What? Like you saw one? Or did one spot you?”
Potter has stopped and is back to looking his way with interest.
“Both,” Draco blurted. “Both happened. It came up under me out of nowhere and threw the hawk off the path. Nearly chopped my broom into pieces as I struggled to gain altitude to get away.”
Potter’s eyebrows were raised and he looked suitably impressed. Excellent. All around him, students have pressed closer to listen. But to Draco, the only set of ears that matter are Potter’s.
So from then on, to ensure he can keep Potter’s interest, his stories include helicopter encounters. Because this way, Potter listens. He has Potter’s attention. And in those moments, Draco’s constant state of morose is chased away.
