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luxaofhesperides · 2 months

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Soulmark AU + Sleeping Beauty ; requested by @candeartist422!

For the last few years, Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die.

It sounds cruel to say it that way. But the waiting is more painful, he thinks, than just mourning a lost love. It’s not like most people ever meet their soulmates anyways; his parents weren’t meant to be, but they still loved each other and had a life together. He wishes he could turn his focus away from his soulmate, but Duke is a romantic at heart and has always wanted to find the other half of his soul.

But since he was fourteen, his soulmark has dulled, fading in and out of color. What was once a vibrant blue crystal star, with eight points and a swirl of watercolor hues around it, dimmed more and more until Duke was sure he was watching his soulmate die slowly.

His soulmate didn’t die then. Whoever they are got better, his soulmark gaining color, but it never went back to the way it was. For years after, Duke would check at the beginning and end of each day, keeping track of when it faded and when it regained its color.

He thought his soulmate was sick. In and out of hospitals, fighting to stay alive.

And then it went nearly colorless.

Duke doesn’t remember much about that day. He knows he woke up, brushed his teeth, the lifted up his shirt to check his soulmark in the mirror. The blue was almost completely gone, the star on his left hipbone nearly gray with how colorless it was. He started at it for a moment, shocked, and reality slid away from him as he retreated into the safety of his mind, fully dissociating.

Bruce had found him when Duke didn’t show up for breakfast. He held him and offered quiet words of comfort that Duke couldn’t understand, but just having someone with him lessened the hurt of losing his soulmate.

Seeing the color come back the next day, faint as it was, hurt even more.

A year later, Duke still can’t break the habit of checking his soulmark twice a day. It hasn’t changed at all, still faint and dim, but carrying just enough color to show that his soulmate was still alive. At the very least, they were still breathing, but his chance of ever meeting them is basically zero. Still, he can’t help but hope, wishing that he could meet them even once before they die and leave him forever.

“Same as ever,” he murmurs to himself as he brushes his thumb against his soulmark. He’s terrified that he’s forgotten how beautiful the blue of it was when his soulmate was healthy.

Duke doesn’t let himself think on it too much anymore. Though his thoughts often turn to his soulmate during quiet moments like these, the busy nature of Gotham is usually more than enough to pull his attention back to the here and now. There’s no use in obsessing over his soulmate anyways; they’re just going to die, sooner or later, and Duke knows he’ll never get to meet them. They’ll just be another empty space in his life, right next to his parents.

“Come on, Thomas, focus,” he tells himself firmly, then gets dressed and heads down to the kitchen for breakfast.

The manor is quiet. It usually is in the mornings, with everyone from the night shift dead asleep and trying to get as much rest as they can before they have to start their day. Not that many of them stay in the manor these days; Duke and Damian are the only permanent residents at the moment, but Steph usually stays half with her mom and half in the manor during the summers when she’s home from college, and the others drop in whenever they feel like it.

Bruce lives more in the Batcave than the manor, so he doesn’t really count. It’s also why Duke is surprised to see Bruce awake and dressed like a normal person, drinking coffee in the kitchen as if this is a normal occurrence.

“Morning,” Duke offers.

“Good morning, Duke,” Bruce replies. “Sleep well?”

“Well enough. Alfred out or something?”

“He may have kicked me out of the Batcave to clean it up a bit,” Bruce answers tiredly. “Want me to make breakfast?”

Duke has heard the horror stories of Bruce’s attempts to make edible food in a kitchen. In the interest of not dealing with food poisoning, Duke shakes his head quickly and says, “Nah, it’s fine. I was kinda wanting to eat out for breakfast. Get out there as me, and not a mask, you know?”

“Mind if I join you? Alfred may forgive me for not sleeping if I willingly go outside.”

Duke laughs. “Sure man, as long as you pay.”

“I’ll drive, too.”

“What, don’t trust me behind a wheel?”

Bruce gives him a tired look, eyes dead and dull. “I have taught all my children how to drive. The day I willingly let them take the wheel when I am not actively dying is the day I’ve been replaced by a robot clone of myself who doesn’t know better yet.”

“That is… very specific. Is that a thing you usually worry about?”

“I’m Batman. I have to worry about everything.”

Yeah, that tracks. Duke wouldn’t be surprised if he has at least five contingency plans for that scenario, should it ever happen. “Well,” he says, “Right now, all you need to worry about is having your wallet and driving us down to The Foodie Nook. I’ve been craving their breakfast plates for ages.”

Bruce doesn’t object to his choice of restaurant and follows Duke down to the garage, grabbing a random set of keys and pointing it out to the many cars he owns. One near the front blinks its lights as it unlocks and Duke cheerfully tosses himself into the passenger seat as Bruce opens the garage door.

The drive into Gotham is smooth. They don’t hit traffic until they reach the bridge that leads into the city proper, taking them away from the quiet of Bristol. The morning is busy, but not enough that Duke worries about being out as the Signal to help keep the peace. It’s a normal type of busy, one borne from people going about their lives, feeling safe enough to go out.

The Foodie Nook is entirely local and very popular, so the parking lot is nearly full. But they expanded their space last year, which means he and Bruce don’t have to sit outside while they wait to grab a table. Bruce keeps conversation light and casual, well aware of the many listening ears around them, and it’s nice, feeling normal for once.

Well, as normal as life can be with Bruce Wayne™. The server who comes to lead them to a table realizes who she’s talking to after she gets a proper look at them while holding open the door and promptly stutters over her words.

“No need for any special treatment,” Bruce laughs lightly, “We’re just here for breakfast. Nothing special.”

“Of course,” she replies, cheeks red. “Um, right this way! We’ve got a table by the windows for you. Just two, yeah?”

“Yup! Just two. Thought this was a good day to spend some time with Duke. He’s a great kid, you know, I’m glad I was given the opportunity to foster him.”

The sunny, cheerful Bruce Wayne persona is so different from the usual Bruce he works with that it feels like he’s standing next to a stranger. But his words are sincere and warm his heart, filling up the gaps that his soulmate has left.

“Here you are!” their server announces, showing them to their table. “I’ll be right back with some menus.” She’s gone in a rush, and other customers glance over before quickly averting their gaze.

It’s one of the unspoken rules of Gotham: give the Waynes their privacy while they’re out in public. Questions and conversation are for public events only, but if they see a Wayne out and about during a normal day, everyone leaves them be unless spoken to first. Duke used to follow those rules as well when he was just another Gothamite. It’s strange being on the other side of that now that he’s in with the Waynes.

Duke barely has to look through the menu when it’s handed to him. The breakfast plates are his favorites and he gets one every single time he comes to The Foodie Nook; stacked full with breakfast foods from around the world. As a kid, he loved the Mexico Plate, but these days he’s craving either the Brazilian Plate or the Vietnamese Plate.

He can’t decide on which one and thinks about tossing a coin to decide, but seeing how that’s Two Face’s whole thing, he decides to hold off and settle the matter with eenie-meenie-minnie-mo.

He gets the Vietnamese Plate.

Bruce, on the other hand, reads through the entire menu like it’s a novel, then leans over and says rather loudly, “Duke, what’s a tort-illa.”

The pain he feels hearing that is only worsened by the amusement in Bruce’s eyes. He’s doing it on purpose, playing up the Brucie act for the public so he can psychologically torment Duke. A few nearby customers choke back laughter, turning away to hide their smiles.

Duke shakes his head and says, “Don’t worry about it. It’s just food. Don’t ask any more questions, I just want a peaceful breakfast.”

“Well then,” Bruce replies, “I suppose I know what to order now.”

As if she was summoned, their server reappears before them, cheeks still looking a little flushed. “Hi! Ready to order?”

She writes down their orders quickly, valiantly keeping a straight face at Bruce’s mispronunciation of tortilla, then heads off to deliver their orders to the kitchen.

Rather than draw out a conversation with Brucie Wayne, Duke settles for playing a few idle games on his phone; his current favorite is one quiet cat cafe game where he directs cats into fulfilling cafe orders.

Bruce, despite being out in his civilian identity, is working. He’s on his Batman phone, which looks the same as his other cell phones except this one has a bat symbol sticker just barely hiding a Superman sticker on the phone case. His brow is slightly furrowed as he reads whatever file he’s accessing from the Batcomputer. It’s a little worrying but it could be anything. Bruce makes the same expression when he reads one of Tim’s snarky comments getting quoted in the news.

But that’s not Duke’s problem! He’s here to enjoy his breakfast and it will take the end of the world itself to remove him from his seat before he’s done eating.

The game takes most of his attention until their food comes out, and by then Bruce has tucked away the smallest of his Batman mannerisms. They enjoy a normal, peaceful breakfast. Bruce ends it by asking their server if she has any debt that’s weighing her down, then giving her a tip that’s at least five thousand dollars above that.

She does cry and Bruce hugs her. It’s very sweet.

As soon as they get back into the car, his easy going smile drops and Duke knows some superhero nonsense is about to take over his day.

“Duke,” Bruce starts, seriously, “I received a message from Zatanna.”

“Don’t drag this out,” Duke says, “Just give it to me straight. What terrible thing is about to happen to us?”

“It’s nothing too big. They just recently defeated a magical being who had been tearing apart secret government facilities in Illinois. He had both magic and a high tech weapon, which they confiscated and are delivering to me. The government agency he was fighting was suspiciously interested in the weapon, and based on their behaviors and newly revealed work, Zatanna made the decision to turn the weapon over to us so it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

Bruce smoothly merges into traffic as he speaks, getting them onto the road back to the manor. There’s a look in his eyes that means he’s keeping a lot unsaid, and Duke knows without a doubt that whatever this government agency was doing is bad if Zatanna needs Batman to act as extra security.

He’s not sure about her decision to trust the weapon to be safe in Gotham, either. Sure, Batman will keep it as safe as he can, but with their luck, it’ll end up in the hands of a Rogue and lead to a lot of death and destruction.

As soon as they cross the bridge and return to Bristol, Bruce steps on the gas and the car tears down the road. Without any other cars to worry about (or traffic laws), it takes barely two minutes to reach the manor, when the gates open for them and let them into the garage.

Alfred waits for them by the door, looking them over with a critical eye. “I see you have managed to go outside, Master Bruce. What’s the special occasion?”

“Just breakfast,” Bruce answers. “I’m heading back down to the Batcave. Zatanna will be here soon to deliver a weapon.” He’s gone before Alfred can say anything more, hurrying down the hall and turning the corner, disappearing from sight as he heads towards his office.

“I see we have yet to break that bad habit of his. Did you enjoy your morning out, Master Duke?”

“Sure did, Alfred. I’m, uh, also going down to the Batcave. He’s definitely not telling me a lot about what’s going on, so I’m just going to read about it over his shoulder. I’ll be back up for lunch, though!”

“And perhaps you’ll be able to drag Master Bruce away from that cave of his,” Alfred comments wryly as he walks with Duke towards the office. He gives Duke a nod, then splits away from him, returning to the kitchen where Duke can hear Damian speaking to someone, probably Tim by the annoyed tone of his voice, and mentally wishes Alfred luck in handling them.

Duke sets the correct time on the clock in Bruce’s office and heads down to the Batcave, taking the steps two at a time.

Bruce is already at the Batcomputer, shoulders tensed, when he arrives.

“More bad news?” he asks as he makes his way over.

Bruce doesn’t bother looking away from the screen as he says, “More details about the fight. It seems the magical being called himself a ghost and was going on a rampage due to a betrayal. He says they nearly killed his son.”

“Oh, yikes.”

“And two of the scientists working with the government agency said that he stole their son and is keeping them from saving him.”

“Yikes,” Duke says with more feeling.

He doesn’t get to hear anymore details about JLD’s fight with this ghost when he catches a flicker in the corner of his eye. Duke turns and stares at the empty space in the Batcave near the medbay and watches as colorful magic gathers and swirls in dizzing circles. The portal opens a moment later and Zatanna steps out, looking exhausted and lightly singed.

“Batman,” she greets, holding a white gun that looks like it belongs in an early sci-fi movie from the 60s. “The GIW is trying to arrest us. Constantine keeps burning their badges and documents so it shouldn’t be a problem, but they are determined to get this back. I wouldn’t be surprised if they came after you next. They’ve got some way of tracking things, but I didn’t have time to get any details before I had to leave.”

Bruce takes the gun from her hands carefully, looking it over with a sharp gaze. “Why would a ghost want to use a gun?”

“I don’t know. He had a variety of powers, too.”

“What does this do?”

“Shoots ice. He never let it go and nearly burned me alive for taking it before we subdued him.”

“We’ll keep it locked up,” Bruce promises.

Zatanna sighs. It looks as though a physical weight fell off her shoulders. “Thanks. I’m going to head back to stop Constantine from getting into a fistfight with the GIW agents.”

She opens another portal with a waved hand and a muttered spell. Bruce is already walking away to set the gun down on a work station, so Duke is the one to wave Zatanna goodbye.

By the time he reaches Bruce’s side, the gun is already dismantled, all pieces neatly set aside. Sticky notes denote which pieces go together and in what order. It looks the same as most guns, save for the aesthetic, but the heart of it is a glowing blue orb, large enough to cover the entirety of Bruce’s palm, and it brings a chill to the air.

Duke stares at it and feels his soulmark burn ice cold.

“Duke?”

It’s in his hands. He doesn’t remember reaching out to take it, but it’s in his hands. He can’t take his eyes off of it, cradling it gently and bringing it closer to his chest.

It’s the same blue his soulmark once was. Before his soulmate began to fade, before every day became a waiting game to see how long his soulmate will last before they die.

This has something to do with his soulmate. He’s sure of it.

He won’t let anyone take it from him.

“Duke. Give that to me.”

He doesn’t feel like he’s in his body. He’s detached, floating somewhere outside his body, puppeteering his limbs, making them move without feeling the motion. Shadows condense around his feet and Bruce takes a step back, wary.

“Duke,” he says again, but Duke can’t find any words, can’t draw on his voice, can’t even look away from the bright, bright blue of the orb. It pulses lightly in his hand like a heartbeat.

Bruce reaches a hand out.

He’s pulled back by shadows before he can get close, and Duke holds the orb against his chest, right against his heart, and feels the cold seep into him.

“Duke. I need you to look at me.” This time, Bruce’s voice has Batman’s growl in it, a heavy command that he can’t help but instinctively follow. He looks up and meets Bruce’s eyes, but he can’t focus. All his awareness is in his hands and the heartbeat of the glowing orb.

“I have to protect this,” Duke manages to whisper. “I… I think it’s alive.”

“Okay. Let’s get you to the medbay so you can sit down. We’ll figure this out, Duke.”

Bruce slowly, carefully, sets his hand on Duke’s shoulder. He keeps his attention away from the orb, so Duke allows it and lets Bruce guide him to the medbay and onto one of the medical cots. Bruce leaves him after a minute of quiet fussing, muttering about calling Zatanna.

Whatever. None of that matters when the heartbeat of the orb grows stronger, steadier, and Duke feels it match the beat of his own heart.

Time slips away from him. Distantly, he hears people move around the cave, speaking in low tones. A hand presses against his shoulder, warm, then moves away.

The orb in his hand moves.

Duke blinks slowly, then claws his way back to awareness, pushing past the haze that’s fallen over his mind. The orb turns over in his hand, then cracks right down the middle. The glow grows stronger, washing the medbay in blue light and a symbol appears on the orb.

It’s his soulmark.

Later, he won’t be able to say why he did it. There were no thoughts, no reasonings, no explanations. Duke simply moved on instinct and lifted the orb up to his face and pressed a soft kiss against it.

One moment, the orb was still.

The next, it had burst in a flash of light that blinded everyone in the Batcave, and then a thin, injured teenager had fallen into Duke’s lap.

Hands immediately grab him, pulling him away from Duke. The teenager puts up no fight, eyes barely open, but he reaches for Duke weakly. On his wrist is the bright blue snowflake, the color strong and vivid.

“That’s me soulmate,” Duke whispers as he watches Bruce and Tim set the boy down on another medical cot.

“What?” Tim says, turning to face Duke, concern clear on his face.

“That’s my soulmate,” he repeats, louder. Then, panicked, he pulls up his shirt enough to see his own soulmark; the color is still dull, weak, barely there, but it’s more blue that it has been in a while. He doesn’t need to say anything. Tim sees the dullness of his soulmark, looks at the boy, and puts the pieces together on his own.

“I’ll call Doc Thompkins,” he says, already moving to fix everything. Bruce remains where he is, making sure the boy is tucked in and breathing steadily before he returns to Duke.

“Are you alright?”

Duke swallows roughly, unable to tear his eyes away from the boy. He’s pale and thin, as if he’d been starved, and there’s frost beginning to spread on the bedsheet from his fingers. “He’s my soulmate,” Duke manages to say. “He’s been dying for two years.”

Bruce’s eyes a hard, a determined light in them. “We’ll save him,” he promises.

If anyone can, it’s Batman.

If anyone can, it’s them, Batman and the Signal, and their entire network of family and friends.

Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die all this time. Now, he’s going to save him.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #i dont really know much abt jld so they are not really in here #just duke trying to live his life and have a nice day with bruce #when his soul mate gets thrown at him in the form of an ORB #(ghost core but they dont know that yet)#dannys gonna have to answer so many questions once hes awake bc not many know abt realms beings #its gonna be rough for him bc he's been asleep for 2 years in his core bc he was never safe enough to recover #until duke gave him a boost (plus the power of soulmates really helped him) and he woke up #in a cave with his soulmate and a whole crew of superheroes #what a thing to open ur eyes to. rip danny lol #thanks for the prompt!

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help-i-need-a-cool-username · 1 year

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So one of those batfam interferes with a cult ritual where the cult is offering/sacrificing a bride to the King of the Dead to gain his favor but something happens and a batkid ends up in the ritual circle instead stories BUT make it funny

BATFAM AFTER A TIRELESS WEEK OF FIGURING OUT HOW TO GET JASON (Jason? idk we'll go with Jason for this blub) BACK

THE ROOM FLOODS WITH LIGHT AND JASON IS REVEALED IN THE CIRCLE

Jason: ah! What the hell guys?!

Nightwing: we brought you home- what are you wearing

Jason, in beach clothes holding a ectoplasm icee in one hand and his sunglasses in the other while being noticeably tanner and with a giant gemstone ring on his finger: clothes. Why the hell did you guys bring me back?! I was enjoying my vacation

Robin: vacation? You were abducted by a supernatural force for the purposes of a forced marriage to a monstrous entity.

Red Robin: who was it by the way? Hades? Satan?

Jason: Danny.

Jason: *takes loud sip of icee*

Jason: my fiancé's name is Danny but his "ruling name" or whatever is High King Phantom. He's the ghost king.

Batman: that is a more obscure diety than we expected. Did you discover how to break the marriage contract?

Jason: break the marriage contract? Why would I want to do that?!

Robin: because you were abducted.

Jason: yeah but then he cured my pit rage and he's a absolute sweetheart and funny. Now send me back. This is why none of you were invited to my bachelor party which you so rudely kidnapped me from

Batman: no.

Jason: no? Im getting married in two days and none of you are blowing this for me. Send me back or I wont give you any favors once I become queen or consort or whatever I'll be. Let me live out my shitty romance novel dreams

#hinacu xover #dp x dc #dead on main #danny phantom #jason todd #dc #dp #red hood #batfam #ghost king danny #dc x dp prompt #bc im not writing it

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confessedlyfannish · 22 days

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Writing Prompt #12

Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.

Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.

Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.

While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.

These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".

There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—

"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.

But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.

He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.

"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.

"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.

"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.

He doesn't look away from the man.

"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."

"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.

The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.

The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"

Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."

"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."

He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.

"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.

"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.

"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."

"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.

"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."

"Him."

"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."

"Why me?"

"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."

This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.

"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"

"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."

Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."

"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."

"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."

"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."

"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."

"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.

"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.

"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."

"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."

"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."

Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.

Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.

"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."

The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.

"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.

"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."

"I have more than one."

"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."

"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"

There is a pause.

"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."

"Resolve what?"

"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."

"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."

Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."

The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."

"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."

"They will have already muzzled him."

Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.

"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."

"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—

Clack!

"sluuuuurp!"

"Master Timothy, honestly!"

"Sorry Alfred!"

#i feel like I'm going to reread this and want to add other stuff #but I also just want to post it and get it out there #fun fact i scribbled a bunch of lines down at 2am bc i didn't want to forget them #im bad at multiple drafts #my writing #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #batman #i live to make everybody dramatic #but also i subscribe to a world where clockwork doesn't know how NOT to be dramatic #lol he's a ghost from all of time he doesn't know how to speak to humans and tailor it to the century let alone the decade #and his favorite little girl who calls him clocky loves how he speaks so #he doesn't need to change for nobody #nor feels inclined to #also I feel like as god he's way more inclined to threaten to get what he wants than like...be vulnerable #jazz: let's unpack that #clockwork: we never do #jazz: are you saying that because it's true or because that's what you want to be true?#clockwork: ...#also I cannot take credit for BITCH I MIGHTWING #wish i could #that is cash money right there #shoutout to 11thsense

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tojisun · 5 months

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thinkin about being fucked against the wall, im sorry :(

want simon to press his face on the crook of your neck, breathing you in, growling at how good you smell. at how good you feel around his cock – so warm, so tight.

"y'r doin' so good f'r me, princess," he whimpers, so overwhelmed that he has to pause and muffle his moans on your skin, trying to stop the pleasure razing through him because he doesn't want to cum yet. not so soon.

you mewl at the feeling of being stuffed and simon presses his hand on your mouth to smother your moans.

"shh," he whispers, wet lips still trailing kisses on your neck. "not too loud, sweet'art. you'll get us caught."

your breath hitches at his words, the world trickling back into your senses, snapping you out of your drunken pleasure.

"fuck," simon snarls, raggedly breathing in.

he pulls away from nuzzling your body to look into your wide eyes. simon groans at what he sees. "naughty girl."

#suns #more drabbles gon be posted today bc i can never develop these lil writings saved in my drafts :<#yk whats funny? im thinkin about another big boy (im envisioning simon underneath omegas mask oh im unwell)#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley #fem reader

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starry-bi-sky · 4 months

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i've mentioned in a few past posts about an au where Danny is a variant of Jason Todd. I haven't made a post about it yet because I need a good rhythm flowing however i've been listening to Gladiator by Jann and I have been having thoughts.

but first, let me set the au:

Danny Fenton is Jason Todd, or at least, a variant of him. A him from a universe separate to the major Batman timeline - but still Jason Todd, down to the structure of his face and his name itself. The only thing that changes, is who picks him up - and, that he follows old Batman canon, and was an orphan. Jason Todd steals the tires off the batmobile and wallops Batman with his tirejack, and then runs off. Shortly after, he gets picked up by the Fentons.

(Customary line break,,,, word count check: 5k)

And his name changes from Jason Todd to Danny Fenton. He doesn't care much for the new name change, it stems from his mute refusal to share his name to the people that picked him up; an attempt to make him untraceable should he get away from them, and to keep something of his to himself. So they name him something new. He grows to like it enough as he acclimates to his new family.

(He hangs onto the name Jason Todd like a secret - he may be 'Danny Fenton' now, but he'll never forget his time on Gotham's streets. He'll always be Jason Todd.)

(Jazz is the only one who he tells his name to in the family - she affectionately calls him Jay whenever she wants.)

He becomes friends with Sam and Tucker and deals with Dash and his bullying. And when Danny steps in during a fight between Dash and another student, Dash gives him a bleeding nose and mockingly says, "Do you think you're Robin just because you're from Gotham, Fenton?"

Jason looks him in the eyes and he bares his teeth, "Why not?" he asks, spitting blood, "being Robin gives me magic."

The nickname sticks. It's supposed to be an insult; Daniel Fenton is not Robin, he'll never be Robin. Not now, not in a million years. Jason Todd has always wanted to be Robin, so he takes the insult and wears it proudly. He buys a school varsity jacket and painstakingly undos the stitching of all the school's motif on it. On the breast of it, he embroiders in a black circle with the Boy Wonder "R" on it instead. It's not good stitching, but the next day Danny wears it down to breakfast and into school.

In normal au canon, Daniel Jason Todd-Fenton (its a mouthful, just call him Danny) only meets the Waynes after he becomes Phantom - an event that leans more towards Daniel Fenton's accident than Jason Todd's death, but traumatizes him all the same. (Is it too much to want to be mourned? His best friends like to deny that he died - and Danny - Jason? - wishes they wouldn't, even if he did come back.)

(The accident embitters him, even more when his parents don't seem to pick up on it. He stops calling himself Danny Fenton - he's always been Jason Todd. It shows itself in his ghostly form. He doesn't want to wear the thing he died in, not in something that belongs to the Fentons, and his suit reflects that.)

In this timeline, Daniel Jason Todd-Fenton, aged 13, meets Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne after a mishap with magic on the other end of the reality sends the three of them careening through time and space, and spat back out on the other end, in a world not their own. And together.

Danny is paired with a very confused Bruce Wayne and Richard Grayson. Luckily, there's a few heroes there to help them. Danny can hardly comprehend the idea that he's in another universe - he doesn't know why Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne are seemingly handling it well.

On their way to a secondary base with the heroes, Danny turns to Bruce Wayne and asks, "So, is it part of rich-person training that you're just totally chill with being sent into another universe, or are you just weird?"

Bruce Wayne huffs at him, rather than get offended, and he smiles that dumb lopsided billionaire smile that Danny's seen on every vogue magazine he's been in. "I'm not so worried with these skilled heroes here to help us get home."

Danny silently concludes that he's just weird. At least Dick Grayson is biting back a smile behind him. "Riiiight..." He says, dragging the vowel out dryly.

When they get to that secondary location -- a safehouse that one of the heroes had set up -- the three of them are sat in a living room-like room while one hero, Zatanna, goes and calls someone from the Justice League. The other two heroes stay with the three of them.

Within a few hours, Danny is face to face with Batman - someone who he hasn't seen since he whacked him in the stomach with a tire iron - and Nightwing. For a moment, Danny swears that the both of them look almost spooked by him.

Batman stares at him for a moment when he enters, and then he goes to speak with Bruce Wayne. Danny doesn't care enough to hear what they're talking about, he pulls out his phone as Nightwing goes to speak with Dick Grayson.

"Are you a fan of Robin, little man?" Someone says, and when Danny looks up he locks eyes with Dick Grayson -- who is leaning around Nightwing to talk to him, the both of them are smiling. And considering who Nightwing was, Danny finds himself turning pink to the ears.

But he will not hide his jacket. He forces a grin through his embarrassment, "Hell yeah, man, Robin's cool." He says, and pushes his arms down to pull out the hem of his letterman, showing off the emblem. "I made it m'self out of a school varsity after the A-Listers started callin' me Robin."

"A-Listers?"

"Popular kids," Danny corrects, loosing his hold on the hem and brushing invisible wrinkles out of the embroidery. "They didn't like that I kept stepping in when they were bullying. Dash asked me if i thought I was Robin because I was from Gotham."

Dick Grayson looks intrigued -- and concerned, and he leans forward onto his knees and raises an eyebrow. "What did you say?"

And Danny grins a shark-like thing, straightening back his shoulders with a burning sort of smug pride and all the sharpness of broken glass left in Crime Alley. "I told him being Robin gave me magic, and then I punched him."

Dick Grayson's smile widens, splitting into showing teeth as he leans back into his seat. Danny isn't sure why he's so delighted - but Nightwing looks incredibly amused, and he suddenly remembers that the Robin himself was there in front of him.

Danny's face burns anew and his arms fold themselves in front of him once again.

"I don't think I ever caught your name, Robin." Dick Grayson goes, his voice thick with laughter, and Nightwing steps off to the side as Batman and Bruce Wayne walk over to join them both. They're just close enough that Danny can see Bruce Wayne raise an eyebrow at them both.

"It's Jason." Danny says before he can think about it, and barely stops himself from frowning at himself for the slip. He amends himself, glancing over at Batman and Bruce as they get closer. "But everyone calls me Danny."

Dick Grayson's head recoils slightly, and he looks a little surprised. "Why Danny?" He asks.

"Why Dick?" He shoots back, and Bruce and Dick both smile at him, with Dick Grayson shrugging with an expression that looks like 'you've got a point.'

In the end, the three of them - yes, three - get sent to this world's Wayne Manor, and Danny is bewildered by that decision to include himself -- he's not a Wayne. Why not just send him to the Fentons?

Batman tells him that the Fentons don't exist in this world, and Danny falls silent. "Oh." He says quietly, a pit growing in his stomach with an ill-kind of dread. He can't keep Batman's gaze, looking away with unease.

No Fentons in this world. No Fentons. Where was he then, in the grand scheme of things? Where was he in this world? What happened to Jason Todd? Was he even alive? He can't keep the worry off his face, and he jumps when a hand lands on his shoulder. When he looks up, Dick Grayson squeezes him gently.

Dick Grayson is steadily beginning to remind him of his sister.

They end up driving back in the Batmobile. It's such a shock to Danny that he momentarily forgets the lack of Fentons. He makes a laugh sound, actually, and immediately he covers his hand with his mouth and stares at the car -- tank? with his teeth sunk into his lower lip.

"Jason?" Dick says, and hearing his name being spoken feels like someone touched him with a livewire. It's weird, it's foreign - he hates, in some way, that it's foreign - and it's so nice. Yes, that's me.

He drops his hand immediately. "Sorry." He says, realizing he'd stopped in his tracks, "I -uh, was just surprised."

"It's not every day someone sees the Batmobile." Dick agrees. Nightwing has his back to them but Danny swears he sees his shoulders shaking a little.

"Yeah," Danny nods slowly, dragging his eyes over the batmobile as Batman opens the driver's side and gets in. He thinks for a moment, of what he should say next - whether to admit that he's seen it before, or to pretend that he's seeing it for the first time. Snd as Nightwing opens the door for him, Bruce, and Dick, he chooses the funnier option; "The last time I saw it, I was stealing its tires."

To his surprise and unsurprise, Danny only gets two pairs of eyes on him. Nightwing gets into the passenger seat as both Bruce and Dick turn their gaze onto him; Dick's eyes big like they were going to bulge out of his head.

"You what!?"

So Danny tells an amazed Dick Grayson that he hit Batman with a tire iron after he stole his tires - something he is very proud about and also incredibly embarrassed about when he retells what happened in the backseat of the batmobile, with Batman and Nightwing listening in from the front seat.

(Bruce Wayne doesn't ever tell Dick shit, he's going to lord this over Bruce's head the moment they are alone.)

"Please tell me this didn't happen in this world." Danny groans behind his palms as he sinks into his seat. Dick Grayson is killing himself laughing on his left, and he saw Bruce Wayne stifling a smile before he obscured his vision with his hands.

Much to his luck, its Batman himself who speaks next, (Danny was being mostly rhetorical). "It did." He says, and his voice sounds like the rumble of the earth before a stampede. It will never not throw Danny off every time he hears it. "It takes quite a lot of spunk to steal the tires off the batmobile."

He can't believe it. Batman is making fun of him. Fucking, Batman.

He wants to die with embarrassment. He groans even louder as Dick Grayson's laughter crescendoes. Danny risks a peak through his fingers, he doesn't know whether to regret it or not because he can just barely see Batman smirk very faintly from his position in the middle.

(His world axis tilts five degree leftways seeing it; like someone dunked a bucket of ice water on him.)

"He ended up being adopted by the Bruce Wayne of this world."

Danny's hands drop with his jaw into his lap. Dick Grayson on his left chokes on his laughter and careens into a coughing fit. Bruce Wayne on his right chokes on air, and quickly recovers himself with a cough behind a closed fist.

"What?" Danny croaks.

Apparently, Bruce Wayne's family is much larger in this world than it is in his. Danny can barely wrap his head around the idea that he ends up adopted by the man, but now he has to learn that Wayne had several children in this world?

He's still not wrapped his head around it when the three of them wind up at Wayne Manor, finally, or even when he's standing in front of him himself. For his effort, Bruce Wayne does a good job at looking unruffled by it.

God, he's weird. Danny's starting to quite like it, actually. How human of him.

He still can't wrap his head around it when he meets the rest of Bruce Wayne's children, all of whom are already aware of the three of them. Danny thinks that someone from the Justice League might've alerted them before they got here.

It makes sense, he supposes.

It helps that they are just as weirded out as he is. A boy named Tim Drake sees him for the first time and blurts out; "Oh wow, you're tiny." In a tone like he's just seen a two-headed snake burst out of the ground.

Danny is still offended. He's still growing. It's not his fault he spent twelve years of his life malnourished. "I'm gonna be taller than you," he tells him seriously, "and when I do I'm gonna kick your ass."

Tim snorts at him.

The other Bruce Wayne -- Mr. Wayne's -- youngest looks at him up and down with a face of carefully controlled judgement. His name is Damian, he's Bruce Wayne's only biological son. Danny can't believe that there's only one.

If anything, Bruce Wayne himself looks surprised too.

"Todd, yes?" Damian says, his green eyes narrowed at him.

Danny feels like the specimen under his parents' microscope, he feels like he's standing on a platform that's being slowly spun by scientists. He looks over at Bruce Wayne in confusion, and then back at Damian. "I- yes?"

Damian Wayne nods, and then leaves.

Danny does not once see himself. That is unsettling in and of itself - surely Jason Todd would have been told about another version of himself in this world, wouldn't he? How old is he here? An adult, probably. Danny doesn't know if he wants to see him. What does he look like when he's grown up? He pulls his Robin jacket around him a little tighter, like a cocoon, like a shield.

"It's weird to hear them call me Jason Todd." He says aloud to himself, and it leaves a weight behind in his chest that shouldn't hurt the way it does. It shouldn't be weird to be called your name. It shouldn't cobweb up your throat to hear your name being said. It was his name. It was his.

Danny acclimates to the manor slowly. The house is big, massive. He's never been in a house so large before, he feels like a stray cat being taken in for the first time, again. He and Bruce and Dick Grayson are all given their own separate rooms - one of many inside this mansion - and the sheer size of his bedroom is bigger than his living room and kitchen combined.

it's daunting. Danny sits outside on the balcony and stares at the stars he can see - Wayne Manor is far enough away from Gotham that its light pollution doesn't obscure the sky here like it did in the heart of it.

Danny finds the constellations he can find and wishes he had his books with him. He finds the library the next day and buries himself in the back, curling up into a comfy armchair next and inhaling each book he can get his hands on.

Tim Drake wanders past him at some point, Danny would have missed him if it weren't for the fact that Drake stared at him strangely when he saw him. He walks away when he realizes Danny was staring back.

It's a rinse and repeat for the next few days. Danny doesn't go to meals, he sneaks food from the kitchen afterwards, and then buries himself in hundreds of books in the library.

Dick Grayson, the one from his world, goes and finds him three days later. Danny's eyes hurt with strain by then, but he is furiously halfway through a Jane Austen novel when Dick sits down across from him.

"Have you been here all day?" Dick asks, he drapes himself across the side of his chair, contorting himself into a position that Danny doesn't think is comfortable when he looks up at him.

Not that he looks up at him long - he hums absently and goes back to reading. Frowning when he realizes he lost his place on the page.

Dick Grayson raises an eyebrow, "Have you at least eaten anything?"

Danny hums. No, he hasn't, and he hadn't thought about eating all day. Until now that is, his frown ever deepening as his stomach pangs with a deep hunger.

"That's not healthy."

"Mhm."

"Are you going to eat something?"

"Mhhh."

And this gets Dick to frown. He straightens himself up, propping onto his elbows to stare at Danny. "Jason." He says strongly. And it's that that gets Danny to finally look up from his page, jumping like he'd again been poked with a live wire as he stares at Dick with wide eyes.

"Yes?"

"Put the book down." Dick orders, gesturing towards the side table next to Danny with a nod. "And come eat something." There's very little room for argument in his voice, he sounds like Jazz when she's trying to parent him, but instead he actually sounds authoritative. Not bossy.

Danny still frowns at him. "You're not the boss of me." He says, sinking back into his chair with a thumb bookmarking his page.

Dick gives him a look and makes a decisive noise, swaggling his head side to side while he does. "I'm pretty sure that for as long as we're here, me and B actually are the boss of you."

He's never really liked authority figures, not ones that tried to boss him around, that is. Danny doubles down, his lips curling into a shadow of a scowl. "Just because you're my brother in another world doesn't mean you can act like it."

"That's not what I mean and you know it."

"I don't want to go eat."

"It's not good for you to skip meals."

"Quit talking like Jazz."

"Danny."

Danny sinks his teeth into his lip and scowls darkly at him, shrinking into the back of his armchair in hopes that it'll swallow him whole. The idea of going into that large fucking dining room fills him with a dread that makes him completely forget his appetite.

"Your fucking- dining room is- it's too big." He grits out, finally closing his book and hugging it tightly to his chest.

Dick blinks at him. "What?"

"You heard me! It's too big. This whole place is too big. It's- what do you even do with this much space? I don't know how this- other me ever lived here."

Dick Grayson surprises him, and his expression softens. "Oh," he says, "I get it."

"You do?" The tension bleeds slowly out of Danny's shoulders

"Yeah, I felt the same way when I first moved in with Bruce. I lived with the circus for most of my life, but I slept in a trailer." He says. And he talks more.

The end result of their conversation ends with Dick Grayson offering to let Danny sit across or next to him during mealtimes, and that he can talk to him if he starts getting uneasy. But he can't keep skipping meals - it was making them all worried.

Danny agrees, and Dick takes him down to the kitchens for food.

"They look at me weirdly too." He grumbles as they leave the library, Danny's book returned to the shelf where it belonged. When Dick looks at him curiously, he scrunches his nose up. "The - your other siblings. They look at me like I'm- I'm someone else. S'weird."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Dick asks, "You are someone else."

Dany shrugs, staring at the ground with a heavy frown. "I don't know."

Danny seeks out Dick more after that. And vice versa. Dick reminds Danny of Jazz, and he latches onto the familiarity like a leech. If Dick is bothered by it, he doesn't show it, whether he's talking to his other world's self, to the Bruce's, or to one of the other Wayne kids.

Damian Wayne seems particularly keen to seek him out, Danny finds. He thinks it means that they're close in this world, and that Damian wants to see more of what a young Dick is like. That's what he would do, at least.

He takes up on Dick's offer of seating near him during dinner, and finds an open spot across from him. Unless he has something to show him, then he sits next to him.

("You can call me Jason." He tells him one day when they're in the Wayne's massive, fuck-off gym and they're both climbing over the jungle gym. Dick's showing him how to be more flexible. It's the most Danny's worked out ever, he likes the burn it gives him.

Dick looks at him in surprise, "Really?" he's doing a handstand on the bars and Danny's more than a little jealous at his balance.

"Yeah, dipshit," he says, rolling his eyes, "I'll even let you call me Jay, it's my nickname."

Dick happily takes him up on that offer, and much to Danny's embarrassment, starts calling him Jaybird. All because of his stupid Robin jacket.)

Danny has yet to meet his other self still, it's scaring him a little. Where was he? And matter of fact, how long until he could go back to his home dimension? The three of them hadn't gotten any updates since they arrived.

Speaking of, he was starting to talk to Bruce more, it was just... strange. Even stranger than talking to Dick. Bruce Wayne in another life would have been his adoptive father, Danny can't wrap his head around it for the life of him.

Whatever did Bruce Wayne see in Jason Todd that made him worth adopting? He's too afraid of the answer to ask. They start talking more after they run into each other late at night. Danny had been hit with a bout of insomnia and was going to the library.

He ran into Bruce on the way. He was just.. staring, out the window, with a faraway look in his eye. He didn't even look startled to see Danny standing there.

Danny asks him if he wants to go to the library with him. It was out of panic. He isn't expecting Bruce Wayne to agree, and they walk there in suffocating silence. Danny keeps looking at him from the corner of his eye.

("You're staring?" Bruce doesn't sound upset, Danny jumps anyway.

"Yeah, sorry." his voice sounds stilted, "it's just..." his jaw wires itself shut for a spell, "...you looked like you were about to disappear."

"Ah.")

When they reach the library, Danny leads Bruce Wayne into the science section and takes out books upon books about stars. He leads him over to the armchair and fire and they both sit down on the ground.

"When I lived in Gotham I would stargaze." Danny says, it's the first thing he can think of. Bruce Wayne looks at him quizzically. "Well, I would try to. The sky's too polluted for that. Mostly I would just watch the skyline and try and spot Batman and Robin, was the same thing."

That cracks a smile out of Bruce. It's a small one, barely there. "I hardly think the two are comparable."

Danny is still serious. "Not to me."

He goes on, talking about how after he was adopted he got his hands on every star book he could find. He loves english and he loves to read, but something about the stars drew him in like a song. He rambles about every star fact he knows with Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Wayne surprises him by telling him facts he didn't know. Danny soaks it up like a sponge, listening intently to him speak. And when they run out of star books to talk about, Danny tells Bruce that it was his turn to find something for them to talk about.

Bruce Wayne smiles again at him, a sly little thing like Danny's challenged him, and gets up. He comes back with a stack of film books, and they spend the next few hours going through them. Bruce Wayne rattles off every single movie fun fact he knows, and there is so much that he knows.

Danny is in awe, and moves to press against Bruce's side to see the stuff he points at in his books.

"You're smarter than people give you credit for." He says at some point, when his eyes hurt from being open for too long and his head leans against Bruce's arm for support. It follows with a jaw-cracking yawn that he tries and fails to stifle.

"Thank you, Danny." Bruce says, his voice soft and soothing and not helping with Danny's weighing exhaustion. His eyes drift, and then jerk open. "Do you want to go back to your room? You look tired, chum."

He bites back a smile at the nickname, and fails to keep it bitten. "No, no, I'm awake." He mumbles, shaking his head slowly. "I wanna hear-" he yawns again, "-hear you talking."

Danny swears he can hear the smile in Bruce's voice as he speaks; "Alright. Now, where was I?"

In the end, Danny falls asleep on the floor of the library next to Bruce Wayne. He doesn't even realize it until he wakes up the next morning. But it's not to worry, Bruce Wayne fell asleep too, an arm thrown around Danny protectively like he was his own kid.

This becomes a thing for them soon enough. When neither of them can sleep, they go to the library and talk and talk about whatever comes to mind.

There comes the dreaded night after they've finished whatever book they were looking at when Bruce, the little shit, turns to Danny and goes; "You never mentioned what happened after you hit Batman with a tire iron."

Danny groans, big and dramatic, burying his head in his arms, and ignores the low chuckle. "I thought he was gonna chase me down for sure." He complains, his voice muffled by his arms.

"Why did you hit him with a tire iron?"

The look Bruce gets is one of pure disbelief. "If Mothman suddenly showed up behind you while you were taking the wheels off his ride, you'd hit him too!"

"Last time I checked, Mothman isn't real." Bruce told him amusedly, and Danny flops over onto his back to stare him down. His arms sprawl out like a starfish, intentionally hitting Bruce in the shoulder.

"You don't know that, Batman's a cryptid and he's real."

Bruce roars with laughter, and Danny preens like a bird.

That next morning when Bruce passes by him for breakfast, he reaches over and ruffles his hair. It's the same thing he does for Dick every morning. It's the first of many, and it gets many stares from the surrounding family.

Bruce has a newspaper tucked under his arm, and when he sits down Danny stands up and skedaddles over to him, leaning over the side of his chair to peer at the paper.

"Any cryptids spotted, Buzz?" He asks, getting a startled laugh out of Bruce, who looks up at him.

"Buzz?"

"Well, yeah," and Danny states it as matter-of-fact. He gestures his head at Dick Grayson. "Dick calls you 'B', and B is for bees, and I can't just call you Bees, that's dumb. So; Buzz."

He grins triumphantly when Bruce laughs quietly, his shoulders shaking imperceptibly. "I know," he tilts his head up proudly, "I'm a genius."

Now he's actually laughing, dropping his head into one of his hands and trying to quiet himself as much as possible. Danny is positively beaming, ignoring the stares of the other Waynes as he flounces back to his seat just as the other Mister Wayne enters the room.

When Jason Daniel Fenton Todd meets Jason Todd for the first time, they both just stare at each other.

Danny recognizes himself immediately in the library, and he freezes up. His tongue ties to the roof of his mouth, and he's unsure of what to say.

He doesn't need to say anything at all, because when Jason Todd looks up and they lock eyes, they both just stare. And stare. Jason Todd is a large, hulk of a man, built like a brick shithouse, with a tired, traumatized look in his eyes and a white streak in his black curls. The same black curls that Danny himself has.

He has no idea what to say. Or if he should turn back around and leave.

Jason Todd sighs at him, "I know they told me you and another world's Bruce and Dickie were here," he says, but it sounds like he's talking to himself. Even moreso when he mutters half-heartedly, "-but I was hoping I wouldn't run into you."

Danny feels small next to him. He doesn't know why. "Sorry." He says lamely, his one foot skips back, "I can leave if you want." It's unlike him to be meek, he thinks. Not after years of Gotham living and dealing with the likes of Dash and his Jerk Jocks.

But this also isn't the streets, and this isn't other kids being dicks. Jason Todd shakes his head, and gestures with one large arm for Danny to come over. "You don't need to do that, you were coming to read, right?"

He nods, and tentatively makes his way over. When Jason looks at him, he sees him cast his eyes over his Robin jacket - he wears it everyday. Danny sees him narrow his eyes, just slightly. But he says nothing.

It's... a strange conversation. Interaction. Jason Todd doesn't talk to him much, and if he does it's stilted and awkward, like he doesn't know how to treat him. Like he's holding him at arm's length.

Jason's getting tired of being treated like a ghost.

They talk about their books. They compare lives. Jason Todd was picked up a few days after he stole the wheels of the batmobile. He wasn't an orphan, he lived with his mom and his stepdad before he lived with Bruce. They both like to read, only Danny has an interest in the stars.

("What do your adoptive parents do?" Jason Todd asks him, one arm slung over the back of the armchair, he looks relaxed. He looks tense. Danny feels like he's back in Crime Alley again.

"They're 'ectologists'." He says, making air quotes over the word. He rolls his eyes, "Ghost hunters. They study the dead and all things afterlife."

Jason Todd makes a dry laugh huff, a sarcastic half-smile on his face. He doesn't explain why he does, Danny doesn't ask why. It doesn't seem like his business.)

Danny wants to ask him where he got that white streak in his hair. It doesn't feel right. It feels like his parents' lab, and that isn't right. Nothing ever feels like his parents' lab.

Jason Todd leaves first after giving him a few book recommendations. Danny isn't sure how to rate the experience. Being in Jason Todd's presence was like standing in a liminal space. An empty parking lot at night. When he leaves it feels like much the same thing.

He struggles to read his books afterwards, unable to shake the feeling of being haunted.

#THERE WILL BE A PART 2 #dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dpxdc crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #danny is jason todd au #daniel jason fenton todd #daniel jason fenton todd?#man i love these variant aus huh #somehing about exploring identity man #I DIDNT EVEN GET TO THE PART THAT WAS THE WHOLE REASON I MADE THE WHOLE POST #that will be in part 2 onfg #but its so late i've been writing for literally hours #you know its late bc these tags aren't half as long as they normally are #its not a starry au unless it needs a read more #there's so much fluff here folks #so much fluff #it was supposed to be rlly only between dick and danny but bruce the sneaky bastard snuck in there #bc i needed him to also??? be on Good Terms with danny #parental ambiguity with the fenton parents. are they good? are they bad? who knows!#claps loudly IT IS VERY IMPORTANT THAT DANNY DOES NOT FIGURE OUT THEIR IDENTITY AT ALL DURING THIS #starry coming in hot with another unnecessarily long au #none of my friends are in DPDC so tumblr gets it instead

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synthe4u · 1 month

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The stress was beginning to seep in. Your eyebags becoming more visible by the day. No one could tell you were more tired than the past week.

You were more quiet and less aggressive in your talking. You seem to have lost your spirit in a way, but of course, the man in the mask figured it out.

Ghost eyed you on the other side of the room. You were bobbing your head, nearly falling asleep before being shaken awake by the slight fall of your body.

You were being distracted by the lights and paid no mind to Ghost's wandering eyes.

It wasn't until around 2100 (9:00pm) when he knocked at your door. You weren't asleep yet. Your light was still on.

Opening the door you asked, "Is something wrong?"

You hadn't changed out of uniform and still seemed out of it.

"Why aren't you asleep?"

"Why are you awake?"

You snapped back at him. You weren't in the mood. You've been tolerable all day, no arguments or fights, but it's clear he came to ruin that.

He stared at you in silence. The mask made him more intimidating which caused you to fess up.

You ran your hands through you hair, frowning in disgust at the knots in your hair.

"Just some family problems is all."

"Losing sleep over your family?"

You sighed, "What do you need?"

"Need you to sleep so we could complete this mission."

"I'm not broken, I can still do the mission."

Silence permeated the hall, other than the occasional fizzle from that one light the base swears isn't broken or haunted.

"Can I come in?"

The door widened a foot further, allowing the masked man inside. You didn't understand why you would let him in. You don't let anyone in your room, at least, not for silly matters like this.

He followed you further into your room after shutting the door, and settled on the side of your bed. You didn't have time to question it before you fell.

Collapsing on the spot, Ghost caught you before the ground could do actual damage to your body.

I guess the sleep had caught up to you, just as Ghost had caught you.

Sleep truly is not for the weak. Stay healthy, guys.

.............................................................................................................

masterlist

#did i use tolerable right cuz i prolly didnt but you know my mood be like this rn #i sometimes forget not all ppl know abt the 24 hr clock or as some of the americans call it the military clock #simon ghost riley #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #reader imagine #reader pronouns unstated #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley call of duty #call of duty x reader #tired reader #reader faints #I made the reader faint because i was too lazy to continue cuz i am in fact tired rn just as reader is #synthe4u #synthe4u writing #gonna bawl and cry because i hate doing work but i will write stuff like this but the writing at that good #i love other ppls writings #remembering why i wrote like two other things jst bc one person is like keep up the writing

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ghuleh-recs · 8 months

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swiss keeping his man (re: actual puppy) in line.

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frogchiro · 1 year

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HELLO LOVELIES!! due to popular demand I present to you this, a kinda 2 part to this baby. I wanted to thank you for the overwhelming love that little brain rot got so I'm writing something extra ^^ While this may not be a direct continuation it's set in the exact same universe and everything so you can read is as a stand alone another part of perverted nasty Ghost (and a guest!) or a continuation of other nasty shenanigans that Si would do to his little hacker girl :(

fem!reader, nsfw, nasty perv Ghost and a special guest, can be read as kinda dark? nothing hardcore it's just implied that Simon is terribly possessive bordering on obsessed and he has dark-ish tendencies so be careful!

That being said, nasty perv Ghost who's almost buzzing with barely repressed anger, almost snarling, teeth baring beneath his mask. He's standing on the sidelines of the mattress laid out on the gym floor as he watches Price go at you almost like a wild animal, grabbing and tossing you around like you're a rag doll, ultimately pinning you down to the floor with his massive body with your hand behind your back and laid out on your tummy, all tired out and panting with Price leaning down to your ear and growling something to you that made you let out a pathetic keen.

Simon didn't hear what the captain said to you but judging by your facial expression it must have been something suggestive; nasty and perverted and delivered in that deep growly rumble of Price's voice.

The blonde man knew that this whole 'compulsory hand to hand combat training' was a load of bullshit, it always was. It was organized a few times a year when the higher ups insisted and there was no way out. It was usually terribly boring, just a load of loud and sweaty men tumbling like beasts while screaming at each other and a few hot-shots who showed of like peacocks.

Except that this time there was a new addition to this mess, little old you. The new hacker of 141, the young lady who always dressed nicely, nails always manicured and smelling oh so deliciously with your perfumes. Since you're technically not a soldier Ghost thought that you'd be spared from the training but apparently he was very wrong and he hated it. He could see how flustered you were earlier, how small and soft you were in the presence of all these big hardened soldiers. He could see that you were nervous and he didn't exactly blame you therefore he decided that he would be the perfect match for you for training; it would be a win win situation!

He'd treat you as gently as he could so you wouldn't have bruises and aches from a rough treatment, and him on the other hand would have jerk off material for the next month. He could almost taste it, taste you. How he'd press you against him, how his big scarred hands would be able to run over your soft body all he wanted under the guise of training. How his big sweaty body would rub against you, his musk rubbing off on you and making you smell like him, like Ghost; a primal way of marking you. How he'd listen to all you little whines and mewls when he'd grab you too roughly and how you'd be able to feel his hard cock press against your ass as he mounted you from behind to press you into the exact position as you were now. Except it wasn't him who had you caged in his grip, it was fucking Price.

That fucker snatched you right from under his nose. Literally. Simon was just about to go up to you when suddenly Price appeared seemingly out of thin air and swooped it to basically tell you that you're gonna be his sparing partner, not even asking, he was stating a fact and since he was your captain you couldn't really say no right? :(

As John was leading you away from a growling Simon he could swear that the older man turned slightly to him and gave him a smug look that said 'better luck next time son, she's mine' and what made his teeth grit even more that he could perfectly hear these words in John's smooth growly drawl.

He's very well aware that Price has the hots for you, that dirty old pervert. He caught him looking at you more than once now, his gray blue eyes following you like a predator watching his prey, how whenever you stopped by his office to deliver some new intel or paperwork Price's voice suddenly dropped a few octaves into a deep, hot and enticing drawl that made you stutter and goosebumps appear on your skin. Also Simon heard Price going at it in his office, jerking off or doing god knows what and growling your name, or the occasional pair of your (stolen) panties peeking out from a drawer, the delicate pink material stained white with John's seed. His naturally possessive character getting amped up whenever you're with them on a mission or even in the same vicinity, any soldier who has the balls to talk or even flirt with you getting swiftly removed and ordered to run 30 laps around training grounds.

And now Ghost lost to that old perverted fuck and he will have to endure his smug commentary about how nice your soft body felt under him, how your delicious ass pressed against his cock and how you whimpered in confusion as you felt your captain grind against you and growl into your ear to 'be a good girl and get a feel of your captain, feel what will be breeding you later' and you couldn't help but whine and wiggle around a bit, you were so hot and so embarrassed, pinned under your captain with all those men watching you with heavy eyes :((

You soon stopped your wiggling and just laid there under the heavy man, his panting and growls rumbling against your back as you got a bit intoxicated on his heavy musky scent, pure masculinity and dominance oozing out of him and rubbing off on you.

You started to wonder if he'd truly keep his promise up and take you with him later, lock you in his bedroom and ravish you, breed you good with his babies :(

#kin speaks #damn #i'm thinking on making a whole series with perverted 141 ;;#like 141 plus graves #los vaqueros #and konig #bc the brain rot is real and I love writing about musky nasty men ;;#pervy!141 #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #john price

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voidcat · 2 years

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Movie/tv show nights at the church of emeritus

Most of the time, the regular attendants are papas, cardinal, ghouls and on the occasion sister imperator (and few members of the clergy sometimes)

When Succession gets picked by one of the ghouls (probably Aether) and everyone else voting in its favor, they don’t know much about it save for its award nominations and impressive opening.

So imagine the Emeritus brothers’ reactions few episodes in as each Roy sibling gets introduced and the audience is granted a deeper view into them, their history and relations with each episode.

To say it hit a bit too close, maybe near the liver, between the heart and a lung– would not be an understatement.

The ghouls are loving the drama, especially when things get verbal and physical. Cirrus has already decoded most of the intro, anyone near her chambers can hear the familiar tune coming from under her fingers. Sister imperator seems indifferent, she can see the hype and appreciates the writing as well as use of music but she couldn’t care any less about a bunch of rich brats and their family issues– she got a trial satanist version of them right under her hand already.

Terzo specifically, starts becoming absent during some nights. Mountain says he caught sight of him trying to find which episodes focus on Roman Roy the most, the ones that include key moments and all, and makes sure to “come down with a fever” or have a sudden unexpected thing to attend to on the nights those episodes would be watched.

Secondo and Primo, like Sister, appreciate the effort and acting out into the show but Primo is focused more on the *their* side of things. He has a deep web for attaining information regarding those making deals with their lord, everyone knows, maybe they should ask him about the little details he noticed when they watch the latest episode. He would still prefer a good horror or experimental film though. Secondo masks his emotions a lot better than his younger brother for sure, but anyone accustomed to his body language can notice small things.

And Cardinal Copia…. Poor cardinal is confused to say the least. Greg? He understands him, doesn’t enjoy seeing similarities between himself and Greg though, and some of his actions he disapproves. He is pulled in nevertheless, maybe sacrificing some of his nights usually reserved for reading isn’t so bad after all.

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soapsbaby · 10 months

Text

Bunch of Deviants II

Summary: Second part of me assigning a k!nk to each of the 141 + Alejandro, Rudy, Graves, König and Valeria that I could imagine them having. You can find part one here. Enjoy!

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, König, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Phillip Graves, Alejandro Vargas, Rudy Parras, Valeria Garza, all x reader

Rating: NSFW (minors DNI)

Warnings: Choking, Primal Kink, Free Use, Degradation

Word Count: 1.3k-ish

Ghost - Primal

He loves the thrill of hunting you down. Even though you of course know that it's just him, the panic you feel when he catches you is genuine. The way he towers over you, eyes cold except for the sense of victory in them that he caught you and that you are now his to deal with whatever he wants to.

Usually he just takes you right where he catches you, ripping your clothes from your body and fucking you, pinning you down and just holding you in whichever position he needs you in.

He will be so humiliating and degrading, oh, you should run faster next time, are you actually enjoying this? you really are a needy little slut.

After he has come and you are all fucked out he will hold you, just pressing you to his chest until your heartbeat returns to a normal pace.

Soap - Receiving Nudes at Work

He loves when you rile him up through the entire day, sending him pictures, videos or voice messages, telling him how badly you want him, how you need him, how you've been touching yourself all day but it just doesn't compare to when he does it.

He won't be able to think straight until he's finally back home with you and gets to actually fuck you, working off the frustration you put him through.

Usually he just has to get himself off as quickly as possible, fucking you desperately, but he isn't done just because he came. Usually he'll take his time afterwards to eat you out for as long as you can take.

He also makes sure to save all of the messages so he can go through them later, especially on long missions with bad internet reception where it is all he can use to get himself off.

Price - Watching you Touch yourself

He loves watching you touch yourself for him. It started once when he walked in on you and instead of joining in, he just sat down on the foot of the bed, telling you to keep going even though your first reaction was to cover yourself with your blanket.

He loves the way he can read your body, can tell when you are getting closer, those little whines when you push yourself right up to the edge. He knows you too well.

He loves watching you come for him while he strokes himself. You look so beautiful when you do and he takes in every aspect of you, the way your eyelids flutter shut, your legs shaking and your mouth falling open, his name spilling over your lips.

His favorite part is when he finally gets to fuck you for round two, you are so wet after you've come once already and you are so whiny and sensitive.

Gaz - Free Use

Free use goes both ways for you. Especially if you have longer periods of vacation times where you can stay home you will fuck wherever and whenever. Whether it is you walking in while he plays video games and sucking him off while he tries to not let the people on voice chat know or him pushing up your dress while you are working in the kitchen to fuck you from behind, you love being available for each other.

For convenience you both usually don't wear much clothes at home anyways and you also sleep naked.

Of course you both know that you can deny favors to one another if you are not feeling up to it, but neither of you really ever do. Each other's pleasure is enough motivation.

König - Thigh Riding

Having you ride his thigh is one of his favorite things, he loves the way it gives him close to no physical stimulation so he can focus completely on you without any distractions.

He loves the desperation in your eyes when you drag yourself across him, grinding your hips against his leg because it's the only thing he'll let you have if he's feeling strict.

Sometimes, when you are already overstimulated he will grab you by the hips and make you grind down even harder and faster, feasting on your whimpers.

It's one of his favorite ways to make you come, the way your movements stutter and he has to grab you to hold you upright, whispering sweet praise into your ears.

Graves - Pegging

It took him so, so long to admit to you that he wanted you to peg him. He was terrified that you would reject him or even be weirded out by his request. He didn't want to make you feel any different about him.

Of course you didn't, and you both loved it from the first time you tried it out. Everything about his reaction to being fucked refuses to leave your mind, the way his body just seemed to melt into the sheets, legs refusing to support him, hands tangled in the sheets for some form of support.

You have never heard him moan the way he does every time you peg him, his mind just immediately turns into putty and all of his dirty thoughts just spill out, begging for you to go harder.

Will usually be able to come hands free if you take your time with him.

Alejandro - Degradation

He loves you more than anything in the world and he respects and adores you, but there is just something about treating you like a dirty whore that gets him going like nothing else.

He loves making you give him sloppy blowjobs and making you drool all over him, he loves bending you over whichever surface is closest to you and just taking you then and there.

He loves treating you like you are property, like you're a toy he gets to use to get himself off, pushing you into whichever position he wants you in.

He doesn't let go until you have come at least a few times, his favorite is when you come around his cock, the way you clench around him and that sweet, overwhelmed look in your eyes drives him insane.

He will always make sure afterwards that you are okay and that you know that none of the ways he treated you reflect how he actually feels about you and that you know how much he loves and appreciates you.

Rudy - Choking

The majority of the time there is no clear dom-sub relationship between the two of you, however, he adores you choking him.

His favorite position is when you are riding him and then wrap your hands around his throat, just tight enough to make him a little dizzy.

He'll beg for you to kiss him, take away even more of his ability to breathe.

He comes so hard being choked, almost passing out and whimpering for you to go harder on him.

Valeria - Strap-Ons

It doesn't matter what your gender is, if you let her, she'll use her strap on you.

She almost sees it as an extension of herself, she adores seeing you on your knees and making you suck the strap, praising and degrading you at the same time as she fucks your throat as deeply as you can take it, "such a pretty slut, so needy for my cock, aren't you?"

She fucks you like she wants you to never be able to walk again, rough and deep, long deep strokes. If the position allows it she'll also use her hands on you, circling your most sensitive spots with her thumb and taking pleasure in your desperate, whiny moans.

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luxaofhesperides · 3 months

Note

Can I please have meet cute/weird with mistaken villain! Danny (but really just a engineer and or chem student) and the one being put on investigation cause Danny is a day villain(not really)! Duke

Technically, Danny Fenton is innocent. Technically.

Duke wants to give him the benefit of the doubt, especially since he’s having so much trouble finding solid evidence that Danny is stealing from a wide variety of people, but he’s been burned before by trying to see people as better than they were. It doesn’t change the fact that Oracle’s cameras keep spotting Danny right before a building on the street is broken into and something stolen. He’s always just walking down the sidewalk; no one has spotted him entering or exiting a building, but he’s around far too often to be unconnected to these burglaries.

It doesn’t help that strange, petty crimes have been on the rise since Danny first arrived in Gotham.

So.

Danny Fenton is technically innocent.

Duke is trying to prove that he’s not.

Maybe I’m looking too closely, he thinks, going over Danny’s sparse file in the Hatch. Maybe Danny’s only one person in a bigger operation.

He could just be the lookout, the runner, the information gatherer who marks which buildings to hit. He may even be the scapegoat, the sacrificial lamb; Danny has no support in Gotham, no family, no job. There would be no one to help him if he got arrested or injured in a fight. He’s a freshman college student from Illinois who should be unprepared for life in Gotham but is somehow managing to survive like a native.

There’s a lot about Danny that doesn’t add up.

Duke has seen plenty of different people since he first went out as the Signal. He’s tried to be kind and give people the benefit of the doubt, but it leads to his loved ones being put in danger. Some people are truly evil, some working on a malicious agenda, some are misguided in their beliefs, and some are desperate people who see no other way to move forward.

He’s not sure yet which on Danny is, but he’s hoping Danny is just desperate and needs a little help to get out of a life of crime.

Which leads to the next problem: Duke has no idea what Danny is steal, or why. He hits both rich and poor folks, civilians and members of the mob, and once, notably, stole something right out of Cobblepot’s office. Allegedly, at least, since no one saw him enter or exit the office, not even the security cameras.

But added to the whispers going around about a new group in Gotham snatching people up from the streets, and some strange green substances found in warehouses often raided by police for the frequent drug labs that pop up in them…

It doesn’t look good for Danny. Especially when a few of the items he stole were found where people either vanished or where that green substance has been found.

A week of analysis in the Batcave and they still don’t know what it is.

Both Damian and Jason suspected Lazarus water, but the composition was completely different. By the look of the molecular structure, it shouldn’t have been in a liquid form at all.

All these findings lead back to one person who may have answers: Danny Fenton.

According to Tim, who’s already broken into Danny’s dorm room and checked over all the labs he has classes in, Danny has some concerning items in his possession. Various inventions and little metal knick-knacks put together by a practiced hand. He was also the one to find all the information that went into Danny’s file when it was first being made: social media posts, school report cards, news articles about his parents… everything.

And then he had an emergency mission to take with the Titans that swept him out of Gotham leaving Duke to tackle this investigation on his own.

He doesn’t have Tim’s natural skill in stalking and invading privacy. He hates breaking into people’s spaces and following them around, but needs must and he has to force himself to work through the discomfort.

It’s a good thing he did, too. Danny’s leaving his dorm after his last afternoon class, hood up to hide his face and something held in the front pocket of his hoodie. He ducks around people on the sidewalk easily, almost as if he’s gliding through the crowd instead of walking.

Duke follows from above, bending the light around him to hide him from sight.

He walks for some time, weaving through alleys and streets as if he’s been in Gotham his whole life, leaving behind the university campus to head towards Otisberg. There’s something strange about the way Danny walks, as if he’s moving around people who aren’t there, guided by something Duke can’t hear. Even using his meta abilities doesn’t do much beyond show him where Danny’s going to be in the next few seconds.

He continues to follow Danny on the rooftops, walking along the edge to keep him in sight.

Then Danny stops behind an apartment building and tilts his head back to look up at it. He tilts his head to the side, then nods and looks around the empty alley. Duke crouches down, keeping his eyes on Danny in the hopes of catching him in the act��

Danny disappears.

Duke curses under his breath and jumps down from the roof, putting more strength into his abilities as soon as his feet touch the ground.

The space where Danny was has a faint outline, oddly enough. He’s never seen that before. From it is a semi-transparent trail, smoke-like and a pale green leading into the building. It goes straight into a wall, as if Danny walked through it.

He can’t go in and search the entire apartment, but he can grapple up and take a look into the hallways to see where Danny’s heading. If he was looking up, then that’s where he should be heading.

It doesn’t take any effort to scale the building. There are ledges and windowsills and plenty of handholds for him to propel himself off of, and paired with his powers, Duke is able to find the correct floor in just under two minutes.

The green smoke slowly dances through the air of the ninth floor, on the east side of the building. If he’s been counting the rooms correctly, then the target of tonight’s burglary has to be apartment 924.

The curtains are drawn on the window he makes his way over to, and his abilities don’t show him anything helpful for the immediate future. He hates going in blind, especially to a civilian’s home, but capturing Danny takes priority. Duke picks the lock and slides the window up slowly, making sure it stays quiet, then slips into an empty bedroom.

He makes his way out into the hallway on silent feet, keeping a wary eye on the thin smoke strands of green, curling along the walls. The rest of the apartment is empty as well, pale sunlight slanting across the floor through the blinds.

Everything is still and silent. Danny’s nowhere to be found.

Did he miss Danny leaving, somehow? Was this a misdirect to get him out of the way while Danny stole from another location? Did he know Duke was following him?

But no, his ears pick up on the faint sound of clothes rustling.

Cautiously, Duke turns towards the front door, where the door to the coat closet is open. He focuses on what’s going to happen in the next twenty seconds and sees Danny panic, then disappear from sight again, but a transparent outline of his body is visible just enough to show him where he runs to. Best not to spook him; Duke pulls at the light around him and bends it to hide him from sight.

Then he moves along the wall, getting around the open door without bumping into anyone or anything.

A figure in front of the coats, shoving them to the side roughly, flickers in and out of view, almost like a reflection in water, distorted by ripples on the surface.

Danny pops back into visibility suddenly, scowling at the coats. “Are you sure it’s in here?” he asks the empty air.

There is no answer, but Danny acts like there is. He rolls his eyes and says, “It’s a favor. That I’m doing for you. I can literally stop right now and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.” He shoves aside another heavy winter coat, then sighs. “Why don’t you look for it, and then tell me where it is.”

He steps back and bumps into Duke.

Danny whirls around, eyes wide, and blast of green light has Duke crashing back into the wall, trying to blink spots out of his eyes.

“Wait!” he yells, grabbing for Danny before he can run off. “I just wanna talk!”

“Standing right behind me like a serial killer does not make you look like someone who wants to talk!” Danny yells back, slipping through his hands like mist.

“I just have a few questions!”

“Well, I have a question: why?!”

“Will you hold still, we’re being too loud!”

Danny escapes to the other side of the apartment, next to a window looking fully prepared to fling himself out of it. But he does stop yelling, so Duke is counting it as a success.

“Why is the Signal coming after me?” Danny asks, glaring at him suspiciously.

“Dude,” Duke says, “You’ve been seen outside of every single building that’s had a burglary since you first arrived in Gotham. All the Bats are after you, they just sent me because I’m the only one active during the day.”

“All the Bats?” Danny repeats, losing what little color he had in his face.

He looks legitimately scared, pale enough to be concerning, and Duke drops his guard and tries to relax the tension in the apartment. “I’m not gonna turn you into the cops or anything. I just had questions and you seem like the most likely person to have answers. That’s it.”

Danny still looks wary, ready to run at a moment’s notice, but he doesn’t leave when Duke approached casually, leaning his weight against the couch.

“So,” he begins, “What’s the deal with all the thievery? It’s rarely something super rare or expensive.”

There’s a long few minutes where Danny doesn’t answer, looking anywhere but at Duke. Then he twitches a bit and glares off to the side, and says, “I taking items that are contaminated with ectoplasm to help ghosts move through the veil and leave Gotham.”

That tells him nothing! That just gives Duke more questions! But at least it’s an answer, the first one any of them have got.

“I think you’re gonna have to explain a little more.”

“Ghosts are real, alright?”

“Yes.”

Danny stops. Squints at him. “What do you mean, ‘yes’?”

“Ghosts are real,” Duke repeats, “There are a few who help heroes or are heroes themselves, but that’s more on the magic side of things so I’m not super familiar with it.”

“Magic,” Danny says slowly. “Sure, alright. Um. Yes, ghosts are real. And there are a ton in Gotham who need help moving on, but they’re too weak to get past the veil. Something about Gotham has made the veil super strong, so they need a little boost to get through. Additional ectoplasm bonded helps with that.”

“And that’s why you’re stealing random things?”

“The ghosts I help can kind of sense ectoplasm-infused things, but they need me to grab them since they can’t hold anything without a physical body.”

Duke nods slowly. “Okay, that’s starting to answer some things. We have found those objects in the last places missing people were seen. Any idea what’s going on with that?”

“Yeah, those people were already dead.”

The way Danny says the most concerning answers as if they’re nothing is really throwing Duke off his game. He was expecting to be calm and serious to keep Danny from freaking out too much and look like a legitimate hero. But as soon as Danny started talking, all his nerves fell away and Duke is left grasping for composure.

“They were…”

“They were ghosts, yeah. And they needed to get through the veil. But they were also able to possess their own bodies and didn’t realize they were dead until I had to break the news to them, which is why it looks like living people just up and disappeared.”

“Okay… What about the green stuff we’ve been finding?”

“Ectoplasm.” Danny holds up a hand and a neon green light surrounds it. Except it looks more solid than light, as if it can be touched, and it moves on its own like fire around Danny’s fingers. “It’s what ghosts are made of.”

Oh. If Danny has ectoplasm, does that mean…

“Are you dead?” Duke asks, heart dropping.

Instead of looking upset about the question, or even disturbed by it, Danny just shrugs and waves his hand back and forth. “A little.”

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” Duke says, trying to resist the urge to rub his temples. It’s a habit he didn’t mean to pick up from Batman, and it would just look silly with his helmet in the way. “You’re just doing all this to help ghosts?”

“Yeah. Basically. They asked for help man, of course I was going to help them.”

Danny’s a good person. He’s just a good person to ghosts. But this is good news either way, and he can let the others know that Danny isn’t the next Catwoman and is entirely unconnected from any drug production. Everything that made him look like a criminal is just the fault of ghosts.

“Speaking of,” Danny continues, “Looks like they found what they need, so I’m going to grab that real quick.” He pushes off of the wall and heads for the closet again, moving past Duke without any fear. Duke follows, keeping a few feet of distance between them so Danny doesn’t feel trapped, and watches as he shoves aside the coats again and pulls a shoebox out of the depths of the closet. From it, he takes a single intricate lace headband and holds it up.

It looks normal, if a little old, but when Danny sends ectoplasm through it, the lace lights up and holds the glow.

He pulls some strange contraption out of his pocket and holds it up to the headband. It makes a few beeps, then Danny mutters, “7.4 millisieverts. That’s enough to get you through the veil.”

Another concern Duke can let go of: Danny’s not creating weapons like his parents have, he’s just measuring ectoplasm through his own inventions.

Maybe he could talk to Bruce or Tim about getting Danny an internship at the R&D lab in Wayne Enterprises? That way they could keep a closer eye on him while seeing what he can create in some of the best laboratories in the country.

Well, it might take having them meet Danny before they trust him enough for that, but Duke is sure he can make it happen.

“I better go see this through, then,” Danny says, shoving the contraption back into his hoodie pocket. He gives Duke a small awkward wave, then pops out of visibility. “I’ll see you around, I guess?” he disembodied voice hedges, and Duke smiles.

“I’m sure I’ll be able to find you again.”

“Cool. I gonna go now!”

He doesn’t see any sign that Danny’s left, but he gets a feeling that he’s alone now, the apartment suddenly emptier than it was before.

As strange and concerning as Danny and all his bizarre actions were, Duke is glad he was able to finally talk to him and get some answers. Knowing how Gotham pulls people him in, it’s only a matter of time before the other Bats are exposed to Danny’s kind of strange. He’s already looking forward to it.

For now, though, he has a file to update in the Hatch; POTENTIAL THREAT will be removed and replaced with GHOST HELPER.

If anyone goes snooping into his files and gets confused, then that’s their problem. Duke’s explained enough. And Danny can take care of the rest, once they go through the effort of tracking him down. Duke's done his part, he's ready for the rest of them to step up to his level.

He can’t wait to see what other kind of trouble Danny can get it into.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #could not do a meet cute/weird in this prompt so i made it a meet disaster lol #heres danny trying to focus on his education!! and then ghosts start popping up asking for help bc gotham wont let them leave #so danny has to make a few contraptions to be able to help them (mostly ecto tracking/measuring/containing) and it looks SOOO sus #the ghosts also have a weak ecto sense which is how they find him bc hes FULL of ecto #and that means hes robbing houses during the day/late evening bc the night is for homework and stress #duke is just... trying his best lol.#sorry if the last part of this is rushed or confusing i am slightly sick and can Not focus #anyways i hope u enjoy!!#thanks for the prompt!!

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deadsetobsessions · 4 months

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DC x DP PROMPT

Danny, visiting Gotham, notices a concerning amount of shades gathered at the bays. Turns out, the bays are where Gothamite villains and goons alike dump bodies. This is very interesting to the Bats, who only figured out that this 6ft. something guy (who did not have a Gotham accent at all) kept lurking suspiciously near the waters.

Danny thinks Jay is a particularly strong shade because he’s had zero sleep, running around trying to help the shades: *trauma dumps to Hood*

#dc x dp #danny phantom #dc x dp writing prompt #dpxdc #Danny can see ghost #shade-like Jason Todd #jason todd #red hood #Gotham #gotham bay is a corpse dumping ground #like it’s mostly plastic wrapped bodies atp #this is why Gotham’s tap water is contaminated with ectoplasm #Gotham bay isn’t a Lazarus pit but it’s close #it’s not a Pit bc most of the bodies didn’t violently die in the water #Gotham’s F grade tap water

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cursedzucchini · 1 year

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You know what? Fuck it

DC x DP prompt #3

I think at least lmao.

Anyway! Jason starts making videos on YouTube for one reason or another (is really stressed, no one listens to his rants Abt books who cares). His content is mostly bad books he read or really really really long rants Abt pride and prejudice. Like 3 hours on one tiny detail he noticed on his 214th read through.

He's kinda popular, mostly bc his terrible books videos. He talks Abt the ones that made him the most mad, which coincidentally are mostly romance and supernatural. Like he's one of the well known figures in the supernatural romance critique group (whcih is pretty small, but well). (Also he doesn't show his face on camera, bc secret identity and stuff, it's just his voice over a video of something mundane, like the sky or a room in which is a fly or something)

And now this can go two ways, that i can think of (w dead on main in mind at least)

1) one day Jason finds a book which is supernatural romance and is actually good. It has a kidna cliche system for the supernatural stuff, but with a refreshing twist. The characters have depts and flaws, yet are still very likable. The plot is actually interesting and overall the story's theme is death, not belonging anywhere and overall stuff that is very close to Jason's heart. The story doesn't shy away from violence and it is suprisingly accurate.

(I'm.gonna reblog this w pretty long idea of what this book could be Abt, bc i don't wanna annoy ppl lol)

Anyway Jason kinda falls in love w it, and it becomes famous for being the first novel Jason rated positively or something.

Meanwhile Danny, who was told by jazz writing is good way to get his feeling out, and just wanted to make a quick buck, is really fucking confused how tf did his book become so popular and who tf is this nerd who rates books for a living.

(basically big fan Jason and suspicious/awkward Danny lmao)

2) there is a famous series on Jason profile. It's the worst fucking series he ever read and it's just fucking awful. All the characters are fucking terrible, always going on and on about one thing, the romance sucks in a way that isnt even funny. Jason would love to believe some wrote this as a joke, if it wasn't for the absolute cringefest this was, and it wasn't a whole ass series!! Like who writes 12 books for a joke?

Danny ducking Fenton that's who. Dude was so ducking annoyed at his rogues, he threatened them w writing a terrible romance novels abt them. The ghosts, knowing his terrible grade in literature backed off for a moment, before someone crossed the line. And write Danny did. It was the worst thing he had ever written, the love interest was perfect caricature yet still faithfully go the original. And Danny, because fuck them he lost sommuch sleep over that one prank, decided to publish it. (The book was pretty thin so it didn't take that much time writing it). Unfortunately it became immensely popular in the infinite realm. So the ghosts started crossing lines on purpose. Before Danny figured it out, he had already published his fifth book and was writing another three. After some bargaining, getting a book written Abt them as a piece of shit love interest became a reward.

And while yeah, he had to say his writing was terrible and the books sucked, some small part of him was kinda proud y'know? Like a mother of her twelve ugly as fuck toddlers.

So when he saw some nerd on the internet not only shit talk his book, but also get money of it?

Danny decided to haunt him (just like his books did him, now that everyone knew Abt them thanks to this guy)

(enemies (sorta it's not that serious tho) to lovers ala terrible writer Danny who hates his books and kinda famous YouTuber hasn't who also hates Danny's books)

Fuck this is way too long wtf. Anyway imma reblog this w 1) book idea. Might add whatever i think the twelve books could be Abt. Pls if u want to add anything to this pls do!!

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starry-bi-sky · 3 months

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(Part of this post with older brother danyal al ghul)

...Okay, look. Sam knows she's staring. She knows very well that she is staring. And that if she doesn't stop staring it's gonna draw her unwanted attention, and that will only have to make her explain why she's staring. Which she doesn't want to do.

She's trying not to stare, which she thinks she should get brownie points for. She tries to look away, to find a spot on the wall to stare lifelessly at, maybe she can burn holes into some of these annoying socialites' heads. But eventually her eyes drift, and suddenly she's back to staring again.

Can you blame her though? Damian Wayne looks like a very close mini-me of her fucking best friend. Seriously, it's like looking into a mirror to the past. If that mirror to the past had green eyes rather than blue and a distinctive lack of a facial scar.

The first time she sees him when her parents drag her over to Bruce Wayne to butter up to him she has to do a doubletake. Then a triple take. Then a quadruple take, just for good measure that she was seeing what she was actually seeing. She was sure she looked like one of those stress toys that when squeezed had their eyes pop out comically like a Saturday morning cartoon, that's what she certainly felt like anyways.

Look, Danny's come a decent way from being that scowl-y, jerkish little ten year old she first met when he arrived like the wind to Amity Park five years ago (even if he was still occasionally scowl-y and jerkish), but one thing that's stayed the same is how reserved he is about his home life prior to being taken in by the Fentons.

He doesn't talk about it much, and Sam's come to know that he's very good at changing the subject when it gets brought up. Even after being friends for nearly four years, the only thing she and Tuck know for certain is that he has a little brother that he refers to as 'starlight', whom he cares a lot about but left on really bad terms with. And that he's never met his father, but wants to and knows who he is.

He's never told her or Tucker who he was though, and glancing at Bruce Wayne, Sam is realizing why. She can begrudgingly acknowledge all the good he's done for Gotham, but... well, if Danny told her that Bruce Wayne was his dad, she wouldn't have believed him at all.

But she's starting to see the resemblance, as subtle as it is.

And she sees the resemblance to Damian Wayne, her eyes dropping back down to him as he wears a very Danny-like scowl on his face, arms crossed behind his back as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He was five years younger than Danny, and god it was so, so weird.

His eyes turned on to her, and they locked gazes for a moment.

Involuntarily, Sam makes a startled noise and looks away. Fingers tap against her purse, black and purple and unfortunately a clutch that only held her phone and her wallet in it. She would have kept a knife on her, but her parents put their foot down and there was a security detail at the door. Only in Gotham.

Silently, she was hoping that the little Danny-me didn't say anything. Or at least, he hadn't noticed her staring. Which was a tall order if she ever heard one -- and unfortunately, her silent prayers went unanswered as her mother's eyes dropped down onto her.

"Did you say something, Samantha?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, a sound that makes Sam's skin crawl. Her dad and Bruce Wayne's attention also turns onto her, and she glowers at her mom from the corner of her eye.

"I didn't say anything." Sam says, barely keeping her tone polite as she turned her head away. Her mother clucks her tongue, disapproving, but from her peripherals doesn't pester her more

Bruce Wayne, the bastard, takes that time to turn to Sam and grace her with his dime-a-dozen billboard smiles. "I've been talking with your parents this whole time, Miss Manson, you must be terribly bored. How is your schooling going?"

Sam eyes him up and down. On one hand, she immediately wants to be snarky. It's none of his business what her school life is like, she doesn't care for his fucking small talk.

On the other hand, this was Danny's whole father. Someone who she knows that Danny has wanted to meet for, what she's assuming, his whole life. He's never brought it up much, but she remembers that very quiet, solemn conversation she and Tucker had with him where he admits to having never met his dad. But god does he want to.

And... wait. Sam's eyes narrow, and she meets Bruce Wayne's eyes. Does this man even know Danny exists? She drops her gaze down to Damian, who was staring at her suspiciously, and then back up to Bruce, and she alternates between them.

Why was Damian living with Bruce, but not Danny? Why hasn't Bruce done anything to reach out to him - what was going on with Danny's biological family that Danny had to be separated from them, but not Damian? Danny's always been kinda mysterious, but now things weren't adding up.

Was Danny given up? Does Bruce just not want Danny, but wanted Damian? Why the fuck does Bruce Wayne know about Damian but not her best friend -- or does he know and just not care? He's fought for custody for his adoptive kids before, does he just not want to fight for his other biological son? Does he think Danny's not worth it?

She's never cared much about the Wayne family before, other than to hear about the advancements on WE's eco-friendly tech, but Sam thinks she's gonna have to look into why Damian Wayne was living with the Waynes.

Slowly, with a protective anger beginning to burn in her gut and crawl up her throat, a scowl slowly curls at the corner of her lip as she redirects her glare from her mother onto Bruce. "It's going fine," She says curtly, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Me and my friend Danny started a petition to fix the leaky faucets in the girls and boys' bathrooms in order to conserve more water for the rest of the city."

She eyes his face, waiting to see if anything like recognition flashes through it. And- and nothing. Sam breathes in slowly through her nose, trying to quell the red that's blurring the edge of her vision -- does he just, not know where Danny is?

Her parents however, make vaguely displeased expressions. "Our Samantha is... quite passionate about her pet projects." Her dad says, laughing low and nervously, "she's very vocal about silly things like that."

"Her friend Daniel is perhaps even worse than she is sometimes." Her mother adds on, fanning her face with her perfectly manicured hands with a sigh. "I swear, he's the one that keeps dragging her into these things."

Sam's anger turns on its head, and she whirls on her heel like a fire-breathing dragon. "It's Danyal." It rolls out like instinct. Danny's told them both that he hates the Americanized pronunciation of his name, but in a rare moment of restraint, puts up with it for reasons unknown to her. "And Danny doesn't make me do anything, it was my idea."

The name, Danyal, seems to ring some kind of bell in Brucie Wayne's head, because she sees him and Damian quietly perk up like two cats pricking up their ears. Her eyes flick onto him immediately, something dangerous rearing its head. So Bruce Wayne knows about Danny. And he's not reaching out to him. Is he? She's not sure.

She does know that she's gonna rip his throat out if she finds out that he's known about Danny this entire time and has been ignoring him while favoring his little brother. She'll hunt down Aragon herself and steal his dragon-shifting amulet and wreck house on Bruce Wayne if that's the case. Batman and his league of vigilantes be damned. Her parents don't notice her slowly turning head towards Bruce.

But Bruce does, and she makes direct eye contact with him. His smile doesn't falter, he just tilts his head like a curious puppy and looks at Sam's parents. She hopes Bruce can read minds, she hopes he can hear her threatening him.

"Danyal?" He asks, and Sam doesn't know if she hates the fact that he said it correctly or not. She just continues burning holes into him and hoping he might spontaneously combust.

Her mother waves her hand dismissively, tilting her nose up poshly into the air. "Our dear Samantha's little... foster friend from school," she says, not even bothering to hide her disdain, "a creepy little boy with the most garish scar on his face. He's a rude little thing, not good for polite company."

Scratch that, Sam mentally alternates between ripping into her parents and Bruce. She whirls on them. "Do not talk about Danny that way." She all but snarls, and they all but ignore her.

(She's tearing up the upholstery when she gets home. She's going to paint over the fine china. She's going to do something to make them pay for this.)

"Oh yes, he was taken in by that freaky Fenton family a few years ago." Her dad continues in lieu of her mom, and they both shake their heads disapprovingly. "It's just what our city needs, another menace."

"Danny is not a menace." Sam continues, raising her voice while her hands shake with rage. Her parents finally look at her, but she can already tell that they're going to scold her for raising her voice. She bulldozes over them and jabs her black-painted finger at them. "He's got a bigger heart than the both of you combined."

"Samantha, please." her mom says, exasperated. They both give her disapproving looks, Sam thinks about grabbing champagne off the tray of a nearby waiter and throwing it in their faces. "You defend that boy far too much. What do you actually know about him and his family?"

Sam sets her jaw, puffing herself up like a dragon protecting its hoard. She steps into her mom's space. "I know that he loves the stars; you can ask him anything about astronomy and he could give you an entire lecture on the formation, class types, and various gasses that stars are made up of. He can tell you how the Earth was formed, he can tell you about the visible light spectrum and about light curves, and a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really understand. But Danny loves talking about it."

Her face twists and scowls, "I know he cares a ton about the environment and about fixing light pollution, and preserving the forests and natural habitats of animals." She nearly jabs her finger into her mom's chest, "I know he loves dogs, and that there's one he feeds every day on the way to school that he calls Cujo, its a St. Bernard puppy and Danny carries him around whenever he sees him after school, and is in the middle of training him."

It's not a total lie, but it's not the whole truth either. Cujo doesn't need food, but Danny gives him it anyways. "I know he likes spicy food and loves movies but specifically only sci-fi and horror, and he hates most martial arts movies. His favorite superhero is the Martian Manhunter, but Batman comes in at a close second." For reasons to her that were pretty unknown, but it didn't matter.

"I know he loves wordplay and making puns, which I would have never expected from him when we first met, but it's so unbelievably Danny-like that I can't imagine him not making puns." And she smiles a little to herself, she remembers the first time Danny intentionally made a pun once and it got startled laughs out of both her and Tucker.

Her smile suddenly falters, and she swallows. Her lips purse up, wobbling, and she very quickly glances over to Damian Wayne, of whom is watching her with a vaguely bewildered expression alongside Bruce.

She turns her eyes back onto her parents. "And I know that he worries a lot, even if he has a shit way of showing it. I know he had a little brother that he hasn't seen since he was adopted by the Fentons, and he doesn't talk about him often but when he does he he calls him 'starlight'." From the corner of her eye, she sees Damian jerk.

"So- so, so what if he's not 'good for polite company'." Sam's voice, embarrassingly, cracks down the middle. But she's so angry over Danny's behalf that she doesn't really care. "Or that he can be mean, and critical, and stubborn. He's learning, and he's becoming kinder by the day. That's more than I can say about you."

(She remembers when Danny finally admitted to her and Tucker being his 'closest friends'. It was sometime before the portal incident, and it felt like a milestone because beforehand he only really referred to them as his companions or allies.)

(At the time, he'd looked unsure of himself. Skittish like a stray in the back of an alleyway, almost shy in his own way. It had come out stilted, slow, like an infant taking its first steps, and it would have been endearing if it hadn't been heartbreaking.)

Her parents rear back like she'd struck them, and her mother holds a hand against her chest in aghast. Sam doesn't care, she blinks the sting out of her eyes. "Samantha." Her mother starts.

Sam cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say, you-- you pricks." she snaps, around her, there are gasps. Belatedly, she realizes she's grown an audience, but again she doesn't care. "Danny might be an asshole, but he cares. And I'd rather be around someone whose mean but cares, than someone whose nice but doesn't."

With that, she whirls on her foot and turns on Bruce Wayne, who has been silent the entire time with a surprised expression on his face. He starts to shake out of it when Sam turns to him, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. "Enjoy your party." She snarls, and then stalks away.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #danyal al ghul au #older brother danny #sam is one protective gal. this scene went differently in my head. way differently. but alas. i am not complaining.#sam: if bruce wayne abandoned my best friend i'm gonna physically transform myself into a dragon and incinerate him. how dare he.#bruce and damian got to watch in real time as a random girl who knows danny suddenly realizes he's related to them. which is comical to me #because she suddenly goes from being disinterested but weirded out by damian. to suddenly looking at bruce like she's gonna kill him #which is very funny to me bc from their pov at first its like this random girl just speedran hating bruce. and then her parents bring up he #friend danny and then she calls him danyal. and suddenly its starting to click into place like 'oh fuck wait we may just have a lead on --#-- finding danyal and his whereabouts.' especially after sam's mom mentions the scar on his face. like wow. what a crazy ten minutes.#not seen but def happened: sam gets her phone out to go text danny in the corner. she's not gonna bring up the bruce thing yet. she needs #a pick me up. related note: danny and tucker know she's gone to some gala thing with her parents but not to a wayne gala. if danny had know #he may have told her that he was related to damian wayne. just to prepare her for that. not so sure on the writing in this one folks #but i also dont wanna go through and edit anything its like half past one in the morning and i also dont wanna wait until morning to post #when i can just do it now. and get instant serotonin. i thought of this scene in various ways. like sam calling damian 'danny' out of shock #and then quickly correcting herself. and then excusing herself very quickly. or her mentioning that damian resembles her friend danny a lot #so she was just thrown off by him. because i def think that could happen if sam has no reason to think that she needs to hide danny from th #waynes. i also thought about her parents mentioning that damian resembles danny a little bit. only for one of them to go 'oh no no couldn't #- be. how insulting to damian since the daniel they know has this horrid scar on his face.' and then go from there. either way i thought #a scene like this would be fun. get to also kinda explore how danny looks like from his friends' povs. of which he is #'our lovable jerk who is an ex-cult member and whom we will maim someone over.'#not a scene that was added but i wanted to: sam mentioning in parenthesis that she and tucker think danny was part of a cult prior to the #fentons. and that sometimes danny will say something alarming and sam and tucker will stare at him until he frowns and goes #“that... isn't normal. is it?” and tucker will clap his shoulder and cheerfully go “no buddy. no it isn't” bc i think the idea is funny.#sam is so focused on the idea that bruce abandoned/ignored/was unaware of danny's existence that she momentarily forgot that bruce may have

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