Your Regular Decorated Emergency Chapter 1: A Lass and Her Ass, a teen titans fanfic

Your Regular Decorated Emergency

By LadyLoveless

Co-written with mentallyinsanepyress

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Hey everyone, we're baaaaack! I've decided to change things a bit in the story. We've been reading the Dark Hunter Novels by Sharilyn Kenyon, and I've decide to make this a Teen Titans/ Dark Hunter alternate universe crossover. Get it? If you're confused about anything feel free to send me a message, review, or just try reading the books! It's a fantastic romance series!

Ps- being a pain in the ass and keeps changing the spacing in the chapters so I have to use x's to space out the sections. Sorry about that. Also if this chapter turns into a big paragraph, sorry!

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Chapter One- A Lass and Her Ass

Quote of the day-

I became insane with terrible periods of sanity.

Edgar Allen Poe

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"The I.V. and your hospital bed
This was no accident
This was a therapeutic chain of events

This is the scent of dead skin on a linoleum floor
This is the scent of quarantine wings in a hospital
It's not so pleasant
And it's not so conventional
It sure as hell ain't normal
But we deal, we deal

The anesthetic never set in and I'm wondering where
The apathy and urgency is that I thought I phoned in
It's not so pleasant.
And it's not so conventional
It sure as hell ain't normal
But we deal, we deal

Just sit back, just sit back
Just sit back and relax
Just sit back, just sit back
Just sit back and relapse again

Can't take the kid from the fight
take the fight from the kid
Sit back, relax
Sit back, relapse again
Can't take the kid from the fight
take the fight from the kid
Just sit back, just sit back

You're a regular decorated emergency
You're a regular decorated emergency

This is the scent of dead skin on a linoleum floor
This is the scent of quarantine wings in a hospital
It's not so pleasant.
And it's not so conventional
It sure as hell ain't normal
But we deal, we deal

Can't take the kid from the fight
take the fight from the kid
Sit back, relax
Sit back, relapse again
Can't take the kid from the fight
take the fight from the kid
Just sit back, just sit back
Sit back, sit back, relax, relapse
Sit back, sit back, bababada
You can take the kid out of the fight

You're a regular decorated emergency
The bruises and contusions will remind me what you did when you wake
You've earned a place atop the ICU's hall of fame
The camera caught you causing a commotion on the gurney again

The I.V. and your hospital bed
This was no accident
This was a therapeutic chain of events"

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The swarm of customers inside the 'Midnight Karaoke Bar and Lounge' cheered wildly as the last note of the upbeat song faded. The raven haired boy on stage smirked and took a little bow, his blue-grey eyes glinting in the dim lighting. The other band members took a bow and began to clear away their instruments. Before leaving the stage the boy walked back up to the microphone and graced the crowd with his deep velvety voice once more.

"Glad you liked us," the crowd burst into uncontrollably loud cheers and claps. The boy chuckled lightly, the sound barely heard over the roaring crowd. "Thanks everyone, 'Your Regular Decorated Emergency' will be here all night." He laughed again, the rich sound traveling faintly to a young girl's ear.

She smiled lightly, tucking some of her short, puffy, curly, black hair behind a heavily pierced ear. 'Better than I thought they would be. Great lyrics, amazing instrumentals, and a stunning voice; absolutely perfect band. I hope they'll play again tonight.' The girl yawned slightly, her bright green eyes scanning the massive crowd for a certain face. Someone sat gracefully on the stool to her right, the faint smell of ashes wafting by her sensitive nose.

She turned and grinned at the person next to her. "Pyra, about time you got here. I was beginning to think you got lost the whole two blocks it takes you to walk up here." The raven haired girl on her right just rolled her not visible red and black eyes, blowing back a strand of her red streaked hair that had escaped her over the shoulder braid. "Well, well. You're certainly in a mood tonight Dierdre. Ya been drinking?" Pyra laughed raucously, her sunglasses glinting in the flashing rainbow-rific lights.

Dierdre pouted slightly. "Must you always assume the worst? I'm just in a good mood...You know, I think that guy in the corner's staring at you." Pyra raised a brow at her friend. "When aren't men staring at me?" Her friend shrugged. "You make a point, but this nutter hasn't taken his off you the whole," she looked down to check her watch, "two minutes we've been talking…. He looks like he wants to eat you…"

Pyra rolled her head lazily to look at the guy Dierdre was talking about. A slow smirk formed when her eyes found their target. In the bright flashing lights she could just barely make out the lean, composed frame of a man sitting in the dark corner; his onyx orbs burning their image into her head. She lolled her head back to look at her friend. "Not bad, not bad. I have to say that even though I hate men, he's one of the more attractive ones. Like a Daimon."

Dierdre sighed slightly. "You know Pyra, you're hatred of men's going to come and bite you in the ass one of these days." Pyra just rolled her eyes at the cold tone in her friend's thickly accented voice. She slammed her hand on the bar trying to get the bartender's attention. "Oy! Two whiskeys over here!"

An older man took the stage, microphone in hand. Pyra leaned over to Dierdre, "Please tell me he ain't singing." Dierdre giggled. "Honey, Moe doesn't sing." The man on stage, Moe, cleared his throat lightly. "Alright everyone, that last band was 'Your Regular Decorated Emergency.' So, are there any brave souls out here that wants to take the mic?" Pyra immediately grabbed Dierdre's hand, jumped up, and waved it madly around in the air. "She does, she does," she shouted, easily heard over the crowd.

She dragged her poor friend over to the stage and shoved her up the stairs. "PYRA," she shrieked, "HAVE YOU LOST WHAT LITTLE MARBLES YOU HAD LEFT!" Pyra just laughed at her friend's distress. "Yup, I burned 'em all up. All that's left are ashes! Now, getcha butt up there!" She gave Dierdre one final push before kicking her in the ass. Dierdre let out a small yelp before landing gracefully on her face.

Moe laughed. "I guess we have another victim. Oops! I meant singer." He winked at the crowd, a few still chuckling at Dierdre's spectacular face-plant. She grumbled and sat up, rubbing her sore bum. "Bloody hell woman! Did you really have to kick me so hard?" Pyra smirked, " 'Course I did! Ya'll know I enjoy other people's pain."

Dierdre looked up and saw a shadowy form emerging from the dark backstage. The lead singer from earlier walked towards her, smiling slightly. Girls in the crowd noticed and began screaming their rabid-fan girl heads off. Dierdre cringed at the shrill noise before blowing an annoying strand of hair out of her face. The boy bent down towards her, offering his hand. "Need a lift?" He joked, his blue-grey eyes shining merrily.

Dierdre laughed, her cheeks turning faintly pink. "Why, that would be splendid! Right kind of you to help a poor lass off her ass." The boy snorted at her crude rhyme and grabbed her hand, yanking her up rather hard. Her eyes widened and she let out a loud yelp when she connected with his chest.

She looked up at him, blushing madly. He looked down at her and smiled. "Jeeze, you're lighter then I thought!" he laughed. "Aw, your lip's bleeding." He reached up and wiped the blood from her lip. Dierdre just blinked, stunned speechless. He chuckled lightly again. "You're just a regular decorated emergency aren't you?"