WIP (omg it's only) Wednesday: 5/11/22
I was all set to wrap this up Sunday night/Monday, and then that stupid Brielle Girard - who wasn't even supposed to be in this chapter - stuck her stupid head in, and the next thing I knew there was an additional 4k and growing and I have no idea what's happening. That's a lie - I know EXACTLY what's happening. I just haven't had time to write it down yet.
This week will end eventually and I'll have time/energy to finish this, right? 😂 (Our dish guy's been out since Friday, so I've been spending a lot of time in the dish pit this week. I've actually been (mostly) enjoying it, but it's also been a Messy Week and I'm coming home a sludge!pudddle. 😬)
The walk to the school was almost uncomfortably silent. Juleka watched her boots the entire way, absently nibbling on her lip as her thoughts spiraled and darkened. Rose watched the sidewalk, looking for any sign of a dressed-up Luka on his bike. By the time they reached the school, she was frowning, too.
She hadn’t spotted him the entire way, and his bike wasn’t chained up out front.
“…maybe he went to get actual flowers,” Rose hummed, tapping her fingers against her hips. “Maybe he’s actually putting some effort into this.”
“Rose…” Juleka sighed, groaning as she reached up and scrubbed at her face. “Babe. What happens if he doesn’t show up?”
Rose’s head whipped in her direction, her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed into a thin line.
“What?” she hissed. Juleka groaned again and lowered her hands, biting her lip as she looked at Rose. She ignored the kohl smudging her fingers – they’d both need to stop by the bathrooms to touch up their makeup at this point.
“What happens if my idiot brother does not come to this dance?” she asked as patiently as she could manage. If possible, Rose’s expression became even more pinched. “What happens when he doesn’t show, just like he’s been telling us will happen all week? What happens when Marinette is standing at those doors, waiting for someone who doesn’t even exist, and Luka doesn’t show up to make everything better?”
“He’s going to show up, Juleka,” Rose snapped. “Your brother isn’t that stupid.”
“Oh my God, you don’t even know him, do you?” Juleka groaned, tugging on her hair. Rose opened her mouth to answer, but Juleka was already turning on her. “Rose, you need to tell them what you’ve done. I told you this wasn’t going to work – I told you Marinette didn’t want any of us meddling anymore, and Luka is stupid and would push back, and they’re both about to get their hearts broken for nothing. You have to tell them. You have to fix this.”
“I am fixing this, Juleka!” Rose cried, stomping her foot. “You just need to have a little faith, ok? Everything is going to be fine! Luka will be here – he has to! He wouldn’t dare break Marinette’s heart like that!”
“He would if he doesn’t even realize he’s the one breaking it!” Juleka shouted, making Rose flinch at her volume. “Fuck, Rose! He’s not even…he’s breaking it by proxy! You’re the asshole here! If Marinette and Luka end up miserable and alone with fifty or six hundred whatevers after tonight it’s going to be your fault, not theirs!”
“…guys?”
They both froze, turning to stare up the steps with wide, unblinking eyes. Marinette stood above them, a white shawl wrapped around her bare shoulders, watching them with a concerned frown on her lips. She shifted a little uncomfortably, tightening the shawl around her as a cold breeze blew past.
“Is…is everything all right?” she asked.
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Jazz has a job as a shrink in Arkham.
She can already feel the many, many curses that lay beneath the building trying to drive her into madness.
She needs to let out some steam, redirect the misplaced aggression the curses keep feeding her.
So she joins an underground fight club.
It works beautifully. She lays out people by night, takes none of the winnings to make sure that no one has a grudge against her, and she's calm and professional during work.
Also it's a great workout.
Well, until her precious fight club is interrupted by some of the shadier bosses throwing Nightwing at her feet, demanding that she kill him.
She's not going to do that, of course.
What she's going to do is unleash all of her liminal strength to buy the man time to...do something. He's one of the bats, surely he has a means to call for help.
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A Persuasive Argument - dpxdc
"Great!" Danny says, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention. The dinner table falls silent as everyone looks towards him. It's a full house today and, honestly, Danny's a little nervous. "I'm sure you're all wondering why I gathered you here today."
"It's dinnertime. In our house." Duke mutters, while doing a very bad job of concealing his yawn. He holds his fork poised over the braised beef, but, just like everyone else, still looks towards Danny before tucking in. It's intriguing enough to wait.
"Yeah, no one misses Alfie's dinner." Dick says, with a brilliant smile that Danny can't help but return.
"Precisely! What better time to talk to you all than when you're all actually here!"
"Wait, I thought you came round to work on our English essays?" Tim asks, blinking owlishly.
"I'm afraid I've lured you here under false pretences, Tim."
"This is where I live."
"I would still really appreciate help on that essay though, I mean, what the hell is Hamlet even about? I just don't get that old time-y language, like 'Hark! A ghost hath killed me!' - absolute rubbish, what does that even mean?"
"The ghost never kills anyone in Hamlet, he's there to tell Hamlet that he was murdered. Have you actually read it?"
"No, but it sounds like you have. Tim, I want this guy to help me with my essay instead. I know for a fact that you haven't read Hamlet, either."
"So? We don't need Jason, I've read the Sparknotes."
"Hi Jason, I'm Danny, pleasure to meet you, summarise Hamlet in three sentences or less."
"Am I auditioning to help you write your essays? I can't believe you’ve gone through your whole school life without reading it, it’s good!"
"Hamlet, along with a number of other classics, was banned in our house because it portrayed ghosts as intelligent and sympathetic beings rather than evil, animalistic beasts. I didn’t even get to see The Muppet's Christmas Carol until last year with Tim! It was surprisingly good, and I hate Christmas because everyone always argued and it sucked. But we're getting off topic. I—"
"No, no, please go back to that, because what the fu—"
"Boys, please." Bruce interrupts, looking to the world as if he wants to hang his head in his hands. "Danny, you were about to say something?"
"Oh, yeah, Mr. Wayne! Thanks!"
"Please, call me Bruce."
"Well, that very succinctly brings me to my point, because I'd actually really like to call you dad."
Nobody says a word. Nobody even blinks, all as shocked as the other, watching open-mouthed as Danny pulls his laptop out from beside his chair. Bruce can definitely feel a headache coming on.
"Before you say anything, I've prepared a 69 slide PowerPoint presentation on why you, Bruce Wayne, should adopt me, Danny Last-Name-Pending. Please save your questions, comments, and verdict until the end, thank you."
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It's shenanigans time guys
So have this DpxDc idea.
So, the Justice League and the Light (OR villains in general) have two newish members, they've both been around for about a year and they're from the same plane of existence (a place called the Infinite Realms according to those who dabble in the occult)
And the two seem to have some serious beef with each other.
Wisp and Wrath are basicly feral cats hissing and hekles raised when they spot the other and their fights normally ends in draws. They're evenly matched and sometimes the two even fight to the point they are out of steam and just fist fight.
Needless to say everyone believes they totally hate each other and might one day kill (or end?) One of them.
So everything gets turned upside down when suddenly both factions of heros and villains are suddenly summoned to the Infinite Realms.
In a throne room.
In front of the Infinite King (or most commonly known as the Ghost King)
A King who looks very, very much like Wisp and Wrath (like yeah the two do sometimes look alike, like when they grin with sharp teeth and their hair color, but one has blue skin and red eyes for crying out loud!)
He's staring at them, glowing green eyes that seemed to just... know.
"Welcome to the Infinite Realms. I am King Phantom." His voice echoing in the throne room and seemed to rattle them deeply, like a sudden chill in the early morning.
"I have summoned you all here for a single reason." He continued to say "Tell me..."
Here he paused, closed his eyes before leaning back on the chair then he smiled big and cheerfully asked.
"How are my kids doing in your world? Dan and Ellie arent causing too much chaos in their wake are they? They tend to go a tiny bit overboard sometimes but what siblings don't when they rough house you know. Tell me everything."
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DCxDP Fanfic idea: Wrong Number
Bruce prides himself in keeping all of his networks secured. If he didn't make it himself, he had the funds and connections to get him the best working on his systems.
He had backup plans in case the systems were ever hacked, of course, but he had yet to encounter a cyber attack that wasn't beaten away by his firewalls or his team.
Babs and Tim were far more feral when booting out unwanted guests. The level of protection was also transferred to his other systems that weren't Batman-related, just to make sure the connection between Bruce and Batman was never made.
That's why he never really checks his personal phone's caller ID, not the one he gave out as Brucie Wayne, but the one Bruce used for his real life without any masks- civilian or vigilante. The only ones who had the number- and the access- were his children and Alfred.
Not even the Justice League- those who were aware of his identity- knew of this number.
Bruce is in the middle of typing up a report for the next Wayne Board meeting when his personal phone rings. He figures it's Dick giving him a call to update him on his drive home or maybe Jason, as his son was planning on going to college.
"Go for Papa Bruce," He says, knowing his kids hate his phone greeting and doing it deliberately to spite them.
There is a long pause where he can't help but smirk thinking his child is either rolling their eyes or cringing too hard to properly speak. Eventually, a voice cracks over the speaker.
"Hello. I'm selling cookies to raise money for my own star. Would like to buy a box from me?" says a boy, not one he has taken in. The voice is young maybe not even double digits yet. Bruce is alarmed.
"Who are you?! How did you get this number?" He demands, yanking his phone to his face and seeing, with a chill, a phone number out of state.
His system had been compromised. By a child. By accident.
"My name is Danny!" The boy chirps. "I sell cookies. Like the Girl Scouts, but I'm a boy, and I don't scout."
"That's rather fantastic, lad. What kind of cookies are you selling?" Bruce asks to keep the boy on the line while sending an email blast to the others. It's a string of numbers that are code for compromise so they all know to close any communication channel until it's safe to get back on.
"Chocolate chip. Mint Slim. Oatmeal and peanut butter. I made them myself!"
Right. Bruce hooks up his phone, tracing the call. The signal bounces off the call, swinging up to a salute and falling back down to earth. In seconds he has the boy's location. It pings in a small town right outside of Star City.
He sends Barry a private message. His friend is already on the way to the location. He'll get the boy in a few seconds.
"How much for a box of chocolate chips? Those are my favorite." Bruce tells the boy, voice whimsical as his Brucie persona demands.
In an unsure tone, the boy pauses, then whispers, "I don't know. No one ever let me get this far."
"How about twenty for a box of dozen? I'll buy five boxes for each of my kids that live at him," Bruce tells him, and the boy gasps.
"That could buy me one whole night in a hotel!"
Bruce's insides freeze. What did he mean-
"Hey! No! Let go!" Danny suddenly screams. Bruce's heart launches- he hates it when kids get hurt, especially those that sound like Danny- until Barry's voice comes over the speaker.
"I got him, Mr. Wayne. Thank you for alerting the Justice League Hotline." That's code for This is not a threat to you Batman and Bruce allows himself to relax just a little.
"Narc!" The boy shouts, outraged, before the call drops. Barry is likely taking over the situation, which means Bruce can leave it in his capable hands.
After reassuring his kids that he is fine and that they are all safe, he suits up and meets the Flash in the Watch Tower. There, he learns that Danny is only seven years old and has been living on the streets for a while.
The boy had been surviving by baking some cookies to sell on the side of the street- where did he bake them? The boy would not say- until he got the bright idea to try to sell through phone calls like he had seen on TV.
He punched in random numbers at the community center phone and gave his pitch about a star, thinking people would be more willing to buy from him if he had an excellent reason.
Barry had left him with CPS, but he looked devastated about that. It turned out that Danny was a meta and had likely been kicked out of his home once it was found out based on what he said of his parents.
Bruce felt he should assure Barry that Danny was fine and look into his placement to help settle his more sensitive teammate's nerves.
He was unhappy that Danny was not in a good placement; there were far too many reports from a concerned neighbor to make him think it was a safe place. Given the fact that placement had a lot of meta kids that "fell through the cracks," Bruce worried he had just stumbled across a trafficking ring.
He would sick Barry and Jason on them. Just to ensure they wouldn't see the light of day again.
Still, that did not fix his mistake with Danny, the little cookie seller.
Bruce hacked into the system to move Danny. He thought about where he would move the young child but ultimately had him in Wayne Manor.
Just until he could confirm that he would be safe. He certainly didn't think about the adorable little boy who called him with his heart in his hand and got sent to a terrible place for three weeks because of Bruce.
Danny arrived at Wayne Manor with a happy little bounce and a chipper outlook on life than Bruce was expecting. "If it isn't Mr. Narc!"
God, he going to adopt the boy, isn't he?
(Danny has been thrown into a different universe, aged down to a child. He survived by overshadowing people into letting him spend the night baking cookies.
He was thrown into a somewhat typical home, but the nosy neighbor down the street took far too much notice of his overshadowing, and now he was being moved again.
Maybe he can terrorize Mr. Narc now instead? )
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