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the-broken-pen · 24 days

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How about a hero who accidentally kills a cat and feels bad about it so they bury it but villain finds them? Love your writing!

The hero was thoroughly, miserably, soaked and shivering on the ground. Dirt coated their palms, under their fingernails and on their knees.

They dragged a hand down their face. Fought off a wretched sob.

Their fingers shook as they set the flower down on the tiny mound.

Behind them, the sirens on an ambulance cut off, plunging them into silence. If they thought about it, they could feel the blood seeping from their side. They could hear the sound of rubble shattering to the ground echo in their ears.

And the screaming.

They could hear that, too.

They didn’t think about it.

A sob worked it’s way out of their chest, painful in their throat as they tried to swallow it.

“I’m sorry,” they choked. Their voice cracked. “It was—an accident, and I know that doesn’t…”

They had to bite their lip to stop another sob.

“Praying?” the villain questioned from behind, voice gentle.

The hero shrugged one bruised shoulder.

“No.”

The villain stepped around, facing them. Their eyes dropped to the flower, the fresh dug dirt on the hero’s hands. The grave.

Their expression softened.

“Ah.”

“You can leave now.”

“Praying for forgiveness, or praying for salvation.”

“I said you can leave now,” the hero snapped. They swiped away an angry tear, dirt smearing on their cheek.

The villain didn’t move.

“Why are you still here?” They bared their teeth in something they hoped was enough of a message to get the villain to leave. They had a feeling it was something pathetic, instead.

“You were crying,” the villain said it like it was an answer.

If the hero thought about it too hard, it was.

They didn’t think about it.

“Burst water line,” they gestured haphazardly to the demolition behind them, the half-flooded street. “No tears, no praying, and certainly no need for you—”

The villain’s expression shifted. “I told you that you needed to microdose your power.”

The hero froze.

“Shut up,” they hissed. “Shut up—“

“You wanted to quit, and I respected that. You have enough scars for a lifetime, we both do. But I warned you. I told you that if you didn’t use your power, it would use you, and it would be an ugly, violent thing.”

The hero shook their head mutely, words stuck under their tongue.

“And you thought you knew better,” the villain continued like it wasn’t breaking the hero’s heart. “You thought you could go through life and keep it bottled inside you and ignore the pressure.”

Their gaze flicked to the wreckage the hero knew lay behind them.

“Did you know better, hero?” Their voice was soft and dangerous. “Did you?”

“I said I was sorry!” It clawed its way out of the hero, and it wasn’t a scream, but it was close. “Okay? I know I messed up. You don’t need to taunt me with it, I already—“

The hero’s gaze settled onto the grave once more.

“I already regret it,” they whispered. “You can’t make me any more sorry than I already am.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad.”

“Then you’re failing spectacularly,” the hero snorted derisively.

The villain’s jaw ground.

“I’m trying to make you understand that this would have happened regardless of what you did. And that it’s not your fault.”

The hero blinked.

“You just said that I—“

“I said you thought you could fight your power and win. And you were,” the villain conceded. “You might have made it another month. Maybe two.”

The hero had never seen the villain so angry. “But then someone shot you, off duty and in civilian clothes,” they seethed. “The fallout is on them, not you.”

“I killed a cat,” the hero managed roughly. They blinked back tears.

The villain shook their head.

“You were off-duty. A civilian.”

“I could never be just a civilian, you know that.”

“Just because you were the bullet does not mean you were the one who pulled the trigger.”

“You aren’t making any sense.”

“I am,” the villain corrected. “But you’re grieving, and bleeding, and suffering from a massive energy drop, so you can’t see it yet.”

The hero let the villain pull them to their feet, dirt smearing between their two hands.

“You want forgiveness?” The villain ducked their head to meet the hero’s eyes. “I forgive you.”

The hero forgot how to breathe.

“You can’t just do that.”

“I can do whatever I want. And what I want is for you to stop crying.”

The hero snorted again, but it was lighter this time.

“You’re an ass.”

“And you’re a civilian.”

The hero shook their legs out. When they went to turn back to the grave, the villain caught their chin, turning them away with soft fingers.

“I forgive you,” they said solemnly, as if they had never said anything so important. “They do, too.” They inclined their head just slightly towards the grave.

For once, as their chest collapsed in on itself, the hero believed them

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blood-enthusiast · 1 month

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Tw: slightly graphic content, characters death, angst, fatal injury

Hero's palm rested around the large dagger sticking out of his body. His glossy eyes were gazing at the city lights from afar. A much better sight than the gruesome mess in his abdomen. He shivered under the cold of the night, black clouds slowly crowding above him.

His body was slumped at the roots of a tall oak tree with legs outstretched on the damp ground.

At his final moment, he was struck by the craving of company his old enemy offered him often. Him and Villain had been fighting for years, long tireless battles that worn both of them out every time, but hero thought it was worth it despite the injuries caused. Because villain would sit next to him in silence after. They'd both share long, quiet moments just existing beside each other in peace after a fight, making him feel oddly understood at a level words wouldn't reach. Villain has helped him breathe easier even if he never admitted it to them out of embarrassment. The storm covered his sobs. If he could see them one last time... or at least say goodbye to them...

His wound throbbed painfully, causing him to double over and ooze out more blood. Hero gasped in pain and tried to still himself. Once the pain subsided a little, he pulled his numb body upright and wrapped the cape around himself clumsily, pressing against the tree for warmth. His eyelids flattered, the sight unfocusing for the last time, blurring the city lights into small, colorful dots.

They'd given their all to the city. It was finally time to rest.

#whump #hurt hero #whumpee hero #hero x villain #whump writing #hero #hero and villain #villain #injury #whumpee #heroes and villains #villain x hero #hero villain #whumblr #hero whump #hero whumpee #whump community #character death #angst

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amethyst-writer · 1 year

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Prompt #11

Please tag me if you use!

TW: drugging, mention of spiking a drink at a bar

“You’re pathetic,” sneered Villain. “You really think I’d help you? As if I’d even lift a finger.”

Hero sank to their knees, sweating. “I- I was hoping…” They trailed off, their hands clutching their head. Villains eyes trailed towards the object of hero’s attention.

“Headche?” They tutted, smirking. “And here they said you were the bravest hero-”

Hero’s eyes fluttered. “I need… please. Villain, I- I think someone’s following me.”

“And that’s my problem because?”

Hero let out a weak sob. “I feel weird. Please. I- my drink. I’m worried…” the hero began mumbling “…slipped something in m’ drink. I think.. ‘m not sure if they’re following me.”

In an instant, the villain’s self satisfied smirk faltered.

#hero x villain #writing prompts #hero x villain prompt #my prompts #heroes and villains #enemies to lovers #caretaker villain #protective villain #hurt hero #it's all about the enemies to allies to kind of friends to friends to lovers dynnamic

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esperosisdoeswriting · 2 years

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Prompt #574

You sure can! Ask box is always open! I hope you enjoy!

"W-Wait." was all [Villain] could say as they came back to their senses, [Hero]'s blood painting their hands and the walls and floor around them. "I... I didn't."

"Save your breath," [Hero] wheezed from the floor, "I know it wasn't you."

"Still I-!" [Villain] felt tears well up in their eyes, "I hurt you."

"You didn't do anything," [Hero] struggled to get up.

[Villain] rushed to their side to try and help them, only stopped by [Hero]'s shout.

"Stay back!"

[Villain] recoiled, "I'm just trying to help you!"

"I know you just want to help me." [Hero] gritted their teeth, "but you could get mind controlled again. Until we deal with [Super Villain]... You need to stay back."

#writing prompt #angst #angst prompt #hero #villain #hero prompt #villain prompt #hurt hero #hero angst #mind control #villain angst #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #esper prompt #prompt #writing #writblr

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promptspa · 2 years

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Random prompt #58

"I'm powerless; something nobody wants. Not even my own team," Hero turned, squaring their shoulders. "I didn't say I wanted a walking weapon, love." Villain stepped forward, taking one of Hero's hands in their own. They took a step closer, just enough to move their free hand to move a strand of the other's hair behind their ear. "Then why?" The question came out in such a soft, vulnerable tone that Villain felt something tug at their heart strings. They had known of Hero's trust issues since they first started out as rivals, but hearing it present in their voice hurt. Villain didn't give a verbal answer, hand cupping the side of Hero's face as they leant closer to press their foreheads together.

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breilobrealdi · 2 years

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Whipped

One would think that the path of a hero, if not easy, it was at least a clear one.

Don’t do bad.

Don’t become a villain.

Pretty straightforward, right?

They thought so. Or at least, they used to.

Stumbling down the street, trying not to draw attention to themselves, it was getting harder and harder to keep their values intact.

Don’t do bad, was too broad of a spectrum. They realized that now.

What if someone good did something bad for what they deemed good reasons. What was bad in the first place? How come the exact same action could be considered terrible from someone, but rightful from a different person?

Hissing as they felt their t-shirt sticking to the open wounds in their back, they decided to stop for a bit, holding themselves in place against the wall of a building.

Sweat was pouring down their temples and forehead due to the effort of moving given the damage they currently sustained. Luckily, their jacket managed to effectively cover any blood soaking through their clothes.

Unfortunately, taking into account the growing faintness they were feeling, they need for a break before getting home was becoming a tad more urgent than they had hoped for.

Not wanting to cause a commotion in the middle of the street, they slowly went into a nearby alley and gradually let themselves fall to the floor into a sitting position, making sure not to rest their back anywhere.

Good, that’s good...

They hadn’t noticed how arduous their breathing had gotten until then and they tried to even it out by taking deep breaths and holding the air for a few seconds before exhaling. Highlight the trying part. If only everything didn’t hurt so much.

Their thoughts were having a hard time staying focused. So much for their endurance, huh...

Maybe... Maybe a quick short nap would help them recover some of their strength. Yeah. Just a very quick, tiny nap...

[...]

Next thing they new, someone was giving them light taps on the face.

Shivering, they groaned, refusing to open their eyes. Couldn’t they see they were sleeping?

“Go away...” they mumbled, though it might have been a bit slurred.

The tapping, however, only grew more frantic and they strained themselves to give, whoever wouldn’t stop pestering them, a dirty look.

“What...?”

“You are running a fever.”

They couldn’t but blink, now skeptical whether their exhaustion was tricking them and making them see things.

“Villain?” They didn’t look happy, quite the contrary actually. Furious even.

Did they do something to angry them?

“Your hair is wet...” they couldn’t help but notice then.

Oh. Had it been raining? Now that they payed attention, it did sound a bit like it was raining. And they were cold. Really cold.

“Who did this to you?”

“Did you just--” ...growl? They had wanted to ask, but their teeth started chattering.

Why was it so cold? Autumn was just starting.

Villain should be careful though, by the looks of it, he could easily catch a cold. Water was sliding down his face. A beautiful one by the way...

Before they got the chance to tell them, darkness engulfed them once again.

#hero x villain #sidekick x villain #sidekick #heroes and villains #heroes and villains community #writing prompts #writing #angst #hurt hero #hurt sidekick #worried villain #feral villain #ngl I love when the villain gets angry #damaged hero #saviour villain #open requests #writing snippet

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that-one-weird-cloud0 · 10 months

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Batman: You need a new costume. That one provides no protection.

Danny: oh I cant.

Batman: You won’t owe me for it.

Danny: no I literally cant. Like if i remove it it just returns.

Batman:………. Explain.

Danny: look *takes off glove and explodes it into pieces*

*glove reforms on his hand*

Danny: see? Can’t get rid of it. It’ll just heal itself.

Batfam: …

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom #batfam #danny fenton #dc x dp prompt #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #Tim: I want one 😭#dick: it would save soooooo much time instead of manually repairing or replacing a damaged suit :(#Danny: I like yours though. you don’t have to change your entire reflection of how you view yourself to change your hero look #batfam: wut #Danny: my appearance is based on my how I view my identity. if I believe I’m supposed to look a certain way I will #danny: but since I’ve had this look for so long it’s hard to change it #Damian: can’t you add stuff to your suit?#danny: maybe? I haven’t tried since most equipment I had available would hurt/maim/kill me #Jason: that answer just created a million more questions how are you like this?

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mischefous · 28 days

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sooo, I read A LOT of whumpy LU fics, and I finally had the motivation to draw up my favorite part from one of my fave fics where poor Legend gets drugged and Warriors is the first to get to him.

(Also i sowwy i didnt get every detail exactly how it was in the fic, dis was the best i could do)

I would love to do more of these. But fudge knuckles my motivation is dogshit. that's also why this is super messy T3T

but anyways, i do hope yall enjoy, AND GO READ THE ORIGINAL FIC ITS AAAAH, AMAZING!!!! Give it sum big lov'n!

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frickingnerd · 24 days

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dabi with a s/o who has a healing quirk

pairing: touya todoroki / dabi x gn!reader

tags: hurt/comfort, painful quirk / quirk with drawbacks, reader is a league of villains member, protective dabi

you met dabi when you joined the league of villains

you were responsible for patching up the villains after their assaults against the heroes

at first, dabi didn't think much of you

but the two of you started to chat with each other a little each time you were healing him

he realized that you were too nice to be a villain and yet you had decided to stick with them

you could've joined any hero agency you wanted to with your quirk and yet you had landed here – with the villains!

he was intrigued by you and he couldn't help falling for you

dabi started to ask more questions about you, to learn more about your past, trying to understand you better

and it was during all of that that he discovered something about your quirk. something you had been hiding from him and the league of villains

your quirk had always seemed a bit too perfect in his eyes. you could heal any wound and it would barely even leave a scar

but there had been a drawback to your quirk. one that you had been keeping a secret from everyone

whenever you were healing someone, you could feel their pain

all those times when he came back half dead and let you heal his wounds, you could feel his pain as well…

as soon as he realized it, dabi started to feel horrible about it

he had put you through so much pain, without even realizing it! you were suffering all those months with him…

and you were healing the other members as well!

he couldn't even imagine how painful it must've been to be burdened with everyone's pain each day

now that dabi knew about the drawbacks of your quirk, he tried to avoid letting you use it

and he started to scold anyone who depended on your quirk too much

dabi would much rather prefer to watch his comrades suffer than you…

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automeris-io-moth · 1 year

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Crying over spilled milk

A message was sent

can you come?

please

i don’t think i should be alone right now

Sometimes it was just too much to handle.

Sometimes, when the press was specially needy of news, of attention, of interviews and exclusives, and questions about numbers.

Number of civilian deaths, of money spended in equipment, of buildings exploded and left in crumbles, and of hours spent in missions.

Sometimes when the noise was too loud, when everyone cheered, when someone's mother cried in thankfulness — or in grief —, when they went to events in clubs and bars and parties, to fashion shows and schools and festivals.

Sometimes, when they were to use that trick an older, more experienced Hero gave them, to get bloodstains out of his shirts, and the dark red hue off of his hands.

Those times it was too much.

They always showered the moment they reached the apartment, a ritual they tried and failed multiple times to adapt to their life, something to separate their work life with homelife. A therapist suggested it, they didn't remember which one, but it never worked.

Hero cried for a moment, squatting down on the bathroom floor, half-dressed, clothes drenched and head hung low, trembling under the running water for the cold and the rising anxiety within their chest, making their heart beat fast, faster, blood so quick they could hear it as it passed their ears.

Then, they washed their hair.

The bathroom door opened, quiet enough not to be heard, not with the running water and the sound of music they didn't like anymore, but they felt the cold enter when the steam of the shower left the room. Someone had entered of course, quick enough to have to need to close it behind them, moving and twisting something around the sink, leaving cloth and towel over the white cabinets beside the showr.

"I brought a change of clothes, dress, I'll wait outside." A voice said softly, calmly enough Hero could almost miss the tone of worry hidden beneath the masquerade.

But Hero changed without further question, minutes after the person left, having spent a couple minutes staring into the void. Cursing between teeth out of shame, they tossed the dirty, drenched clothes on the floor and wore what the Villain gave them realising quickly enough those were not their own clothes.

A sigh.

Wet steps alerted their entrance in the kitchen, looking for the other they knew wandered somewhere inside the house. Villain looked up to them, leaning back against the counters, signalling, with the palm of their hand, to a steaming mug up the small breakfast table.

Hero nodded silently, nestling it between both hands, waiting for the other to speak, to ask what was wrong with them, as he’d heard time over time as the day went by.

"I saw you fight in the news earlier."

Though maybe, they couldn’t do it again.

"Don't, please," Hero asked, pleaded "I've heard enough about it already, I...fucked up, I know, please, not now.".

The Villain gave a bored chuckle, shaking their head and extending their hand towards the still trembling Hero. With a nod of invitation, of assuredness that the other was not angry, reproachful as many others that day, they accepted it, leaving the mug in the counter behind the other.

Villain pulled them in.

"That’s not what I wanted to say,” they assured “If you had run for the door, breaking it open for the executives, two hundred and fifty seven people would've died from the collapsing of the building instead of six."

Hero's head was tucked against the other chest, hands loose by their sides as the other embraced them, tight with a hand on their hair and the other around his waist, going up his back. Listening.

"You made the right decision today, you couldn't have saved them all, your hands are not dirty," Villain continued, running circles in the other's back "the press couldn't understand, they wouldn't if they could, it's at their very foundation to look for someone to blame."

Numbness kept growing, their arms were immovable, and their knees grew heavier with each passing second.

It was their fault, they reminded themselves, the Villain spoke empty words of comfort, they were not of straight morals, and loved them far too much to grant objectivity, yet listening to them, no matter how little truth laid in there, made them feel lighter.

"I'm so proud of you, Hero, you were so brave today, I could've never handle the crowd like you did, so quick thinking, so polite and proper even with so many hateful people lighting their flashes at you," their voice was soothing as ever, their lies sweet against Hero's ear "you choose this everyday instead of the peace I can give you."

By their shoulders, they were separated from the other's arms, slowly, gently.

Kind eyes stared down at them, sympathetic, understanding.

"That's demonstrates how big is you vocation, how little they deserve you,"

Lies.

Generous lies, but lies nonetheless.

They were at fault that morning, Hero kept repeating as a mantra, and they wanted out, they wanted to take what Villain had offered months, years ago.

Hero was selfish, everyone said that day, they were, they were demonstrating it even then, accepting comfort from a villain, a menace, someone who should be behind bars.

They fell back against the other's chest.

And the mug broke, pushed down the counter by a careless hand.

Their mug.

The mug they had bought at a gift shop for themselves long ago, the only mug they used out of many others, it was bigger than the others, taller and slimmer than other mugs, a deep blue that matched the Villain’s.

They loved that mug.

And Hero cried.

It was not dignifying, it was neither cute nor discreet. Hero screeched against the other's chest as they walked them slowly to the other side of the room, away from the sharp pieces of ceramic scattered on the floor.

Hero screamed, nose runny and eyes red, wetting the Villain's shirt.

"I fucked up, I fucked up I'm so sorry," Hero screamed, muffled only by the other's clothing "I should've done what Leader said, they're dead because I'm a useless piece of..."

"Absolutely not, no," Villain said, "hear me, listen to me, none of that bullshit they sell it's the truth, you've told me you were aware of this, they got you as their victim today but tomorrow another one will fall in the same hole you did today.”

“I don’t want to do this anymore Villain,” Hero’s voice broke, and both slide down to the dining room floor “the blood is not washing off my interview white dress shirt, the bathroom floor is stained, and I broke my favourite mug, I bought this for us and I broke mine, and all the coffee you made is on the floor, I never even tasted it.”

“It was hot cocoa in milk, Civilian Name, coffee would’ve been a terrible idea,” Villain said, holding closer Hero in their arms, letting them fall completely against them, chest to chest, as they leaned back in one of the room’s wall, right beside the door to the kitchen.

Open, ugly sobbing dissolved into hiccups quickly enough as the Hero calmed with the other’s comfort, hand soft in their skin, words sweet in their ears and a scent of safety surrounding both, salty water and wood from Villain’s old beach house they used as an everyday.

“This was a no-turning point for me, Civilian Name,” Villain said softly, “I’m taking you away.”

In their defence, Hero did think of many things to say, then, more calmed, their actions seemed over exaggerated, even if they were still at the brink of tears.

They couldn’t just leave, they thought, they would be proving them right, they were selfish, inattentive, needy, stupid.

“I’ll take care of you, I’ll be good to you I promise.”

Hero nodded against the other’s chest.

Masterlist

Using all my free time before starting finals to make new pieces, I'm really very happy for the responses that some stories I've uploaded have received, it has really helped me to actually sit down and write 1000+ words, when a month ago did maybe 300 on a good day.

Btw, just here to remind you this is not my native language, so I'm sorry for any mistaked, feel free to point them out.

Thank you so much :)

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random-writing-thoughts · 3 months

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@unforgivenn I'm so sorry I deleted your ask by accident. But here you go!!

Taglist: @arealphrooblem, @xynthevoid, @honorata2021

Thought #204.7

Hero sat in the corner and watched Sidekick snore.

She rolled her eyes and looked down at her wrist.

If only I could get a splint on this it would make my life so much easier.

She sighed and looked around the room.

Nothing. Not even...

Her eyes landed on Sidekicks clipboard.

Hero moved slowly and quietly.

Creeping around the room she made her way towards Sidekicks nightstand.

Slowly. Move slo-

Sidekick stopped storing and grunted. She froze. Sidekick mumbled and rolled over. He resumed snoring.

She continued on and wrapped her hand around the clipboard. She slowly pulled it off of the sidetable.

Now, how to break this thing without making a sound.

She looked around the room again. I need something sharp to saw at this.

She looked under the bed and at the sidetable.

Nothing.

She crawled silently to the dresser and stood up. Opening the top drawer slowly.

Undies and socks.

She opened the next drawer.

Wallet, keys and...

A pocket knife.

Of course, he has a pocket knife.

She grabbed the knife and slowly closed the drawer. She sat back down in the corner and opened the knife up.

She smiled and started etching a line into the clipboard.

It must have taken hours for her to get the clipboard thin enough to snap. She grabbed the clipboard and stepped on the other half.

Hero waited for Sidekick to snore before snapping the board in half.

Without the use of her other wrist her arm was burning. Hero wiped the sweat from her forehead and continued splitting the smaller section in half.

The sun had risen and Hero had finally gotten the two pieces to be the right size. She took off her sling and laid it on the floor.

She grabbed the two pieces of clipboard and set them by her wrist. She grabbed the sling and wrapped it tightly, pinning the pieces to her wrist.

She took a deep breath and moved her arm around. It felt good.

Well better than it had.

She sighed and leaned against the wall. Closing her eyes she drifted off to sleep.

#hurt hero #hero #hero prompts #hero x sidekick #sidekick prompt #sidekick #204 #writeblr #writing prompt #dialogue prompts #story prompt #writing #random thoughts #thoughts #prompt #short prompt #female writers

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mediumgayitalian · 18 days

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———

Hades’ favourite thing to rant about is how much his family forgets about and sidelines him. Nico has literally never once given the lecture his full attention, because why the fresh fuck would he subject himself to that, but he discovers, lying facedown on the floor of Cabin Three, that he must have internalised enough of it to remember some key points.

He is loathe to admit it, but Father is right. How come the Poseidon cabin floors are so nice and comfortable? The floor of Cabin Thirteen sucks. Whenever he has Floor Time in his own cabin, he gets bruised and cold. Injustice.

“Could you suffer quieter? I’m trying to study.”

“Shut up, Percy.”

“I’m not the one groaning in misery.”

“Shut up, Percy.”

Percy sighs heavily. There’s a loud thud as he snaps his textbook shut, and the creak of mattress springs as he shifts.

“You’re so fuckin’ irritating, you know that?”

“Coming from you,” Nico says indignantly, pushing up to glare at him. Percy makes a face back. “I am here, having a crisis, being vulnerable in front of you —”

“Oh my gods.”

“— like you suggested, to rebuild our tenuous relationship —”

“I wish the prophecy had killed me. Either one, I’m not picky.”

“— and you are studying! Nose in a book! You hate reading! You are doing this just to spite me!”

“I am doing this to pass my classes,” Percy snips. “Someone should send you to public school. You need to experience that particular level of hell.”

“Experienced hell already, thanks. Don’t need a redo.”

“Tartarus references don’t shut me up, Zombie Boy. I’ve been there too.”

“Ugh.”

Percy rolls his eyes, turning back to his textbook. Nico contemplates rolling back on the floor to Ruminate and Think (after the second failure in a row he has a much to think about, like what the fuck is he supposed to do, should he even fucking bother, is he doomed to life without love, etc, etc) but finds himself, instead, sitting upright. Watching his — friend. Watching his heavy frown, listening to the bit-back curses and the crinkle of pages when he holds the book too tightly.

He’s moody, today. Sullen. Ate his breakfast in silence and stomped off to the sword fighting arena, raising hurricane downpour around the open theatre to deter anyone from joining him. Coincidentally, Annabeth has not been seen all day.

“Are you okay?” Nico asks quietly.

Percy shrugs, glancing over then glancing quickly away. “Fine.”

“I mean. You flooded half the camp. So.”

“Just drop it, Nico. If you’re going to stay in here, be quiet.”

Nico bites back the automatic, scathing retort. Be quiet, Nicolò! Lalalalala! Don’t tell me what to do! Ugh! I hate having a little brother! Yeah, well, I hate you too!

A quick, cut-off choking sound cuts through his thoughts. He looks up, startled, to find Percy’s face red, to find him swiping angrily at his cheeks.

“Woah,” he murmurs, climbing hastily upright. He ignores the loud chanting in his brain telling him to leave, the discomfort swirling in his stomach at seeing someone cry, seeing another man cry, instead hovering awkwardly. Percy shrugs off the hand he touches hesitantly to his shoulder, and Nico holds it there, suspended, in between and outstretched.

“I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

Nico hesitates. Of all people, he…nobody wants Nico around, when they’re —whatever Percy is. Upset. The only thing he can probably do is make it worse.

But what can he do? Leave him? Get Annabeth? Jason? None of it seems right. Instead he stands, frozen, hand still half-outstretched, eyes wide.

“You can —” He clears his throat. “Um. Did something happen?”

Percy shrugs. His eyes remain glued resolutely to his textbook, although the pages are wet and warped.

“Cause you can tell me, you know. I won’t — tell anyone. Or anything.”

Gods, he is so far out of his depth. Could Kampe come back and attack? That would be easier to deal with. Nico could handle that.

“I don’t —” the pages of the textbook crinkle under Percy’s grip — “it’s fucking stupid, is what it is.”

Hovering is not the right call. He knows that much. He scans the cabin, evaluating his options — sitting back on the floor feels like a bad plan. He doesn’t think any kind of touch would be welcomed, nor is he entirely comfortable in giving it. He doesn’t want to crowd. He doesn’t want to seem too distant.

Slowly, carefully gauging Percy’s reaction, he sits on the bed, across from him. He leaves the textbook between them, letting Percy keep pretending to read it, and tucks his legs up under his knees. He fiddles absentmindedly with his ring, chewing his lip every time Percy sniffles.

“Why’s it stupid?”

Percy shrugs again. Nico resists the urge to shake him. How does anyone deal with this shit? What the hell is he even supposed to do? He’s not Jason. He’s not Annabeth. Hell, he’s not Will, who seems to read emotions intuitively, who seems to know exactly what to do when someone is scared, when someone is upset. Even when someone is angry. He tries to imagine Will, in his position. Sitting across from a crying Percy Jackson, saviour of the world. Yesterday, one of the younger kids had tripped and scraped half the skin off their arm on the basketball court. Will had been there with a soft smile and gentle, glowing hands, speaking quietly and cracking small jokes until the kid was laughing again. Nico tries to imagine that here, soft words and lighthearted jokes. It doesn’t seem right. Would he — touch Percy’s wrist, like he did with Clarisse? Drag the fight right out of him?

Is Percy even angry? Nico has seen him angry before. Murderous. Fuming.

He’s never seen him cry.

Percy’s voice is like palms scraping hard over sharp gravel stones. “I made Annabeth cry this morning.”

The way he says it makes it hard for Nico to actually understand his words. His tone of voice is — volatile, is the best way he can describe it. Loathing. Based on the curling self-hatred dripping from the sentence Nico would assume he’d tried to kill her — he says I made her cry like he doesn’t deserve to live for it. Like he’s hoping to be punished.

“That happens,” Nico says. He swallows. “When you — love people.”

He and Bianca made each other cry a lot. He just never — stopped, never gave her half a second. Sometimes she looked at him and he knew she wanted to hit him. She never did. But he knew and she knew he knew and sometimes it would well up in her eyes, and she would lock herself in the bathroom of their room and turn on the sink and cry and cry and cry. And it ached something nasty in the cavity of his chest.

Percy sneers at his hands, flexing his fingers. “People who love you don’t make you cry. That’s just — hurting. That’s people who hurt everyone around them.”

Nico frowns. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” he says venomously. “I’m supposed to be — I’m supposed to protect her. I’m supposed to keep her safe, keep her from people who cause her pain.”

“People like you?”

Percy nods.

Nico drags his teeth over his bottom lip. He thinks of bleeding fingers clinging to a tiny shaft of rock, thinks of dangerous green eyes, hard voices; thinks of a thick web clinging to a broken ankle and an abyss. Thinks of promises and oaths and choosing. Thinks of falling. Thinks of letting go.

“People who want to harm Annabeth do not jump into the Pit for her.”

The pages of Percy’s textbook have started to dry. The ink has bled, dark splotches in perfect circles. The fountain bubbles gently behind them, mattress creaking under shifting legs.

“You don’t understand what I —” He pauses, swallowing. “Did, down there.”

“D’you hurt her?”

“…I scared her.”

“Oh, well — Christ, Percy! Is that really what this — brooding is about?” He scoffs. “No shit you scared her!”

“…What?”

Percy looks at him, wide-eyed. Nico rolls his eyes.

“Aw, when you were fighting for your life in the place meant to tear your essence into atoms, did you do things that make you question your personhood? Your morals?”

“I —”

“Of course you did, dumbass! Of course you —” he takes a breath, trying to organize the jumble of thoughts in his brain — “of course the physical manifestation of darkness and distortion made you act differently than you would usually, Percy. Of course it — affected you. Gods. Of course you’re struggling.” He flicks Percy’s knee, looking at him with exaggerated exasperation. “Use your brain, why don’t you.”

A small smile quirks the corners of Percy’s mouth, although it fades as quickly as it comes. He wipes his face with his sleeve, breath shuddering.

“She didn’t scare me, though.”

“Not even once?”

“Not in the same way,” Percy admits. “I was scared, once, when I looked at her. In the death mist. But that wasn’t — her, you know? She could never scare me.”

“I mean,” Nico wrinkles his nose, trying to articulate, “I think that’s kind of abnormal?”

Percy tilts his head.

“I just mean that you have a very high threshold, Percy. For…what you’ll tolerate from people you care about.”

“Everyone has that.”

“Not in the same way you do.” He taps his knuckles, considering. “Tell me the truth — if Annabeth stabbed someone to death in front of you, in total cold blood, would you help her hide the body?”

“Yes,” he says immediately. He shrinks, a little. “Oh.”

Nico rushes to assure, placing a fleeting touch on his wrist. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing. I don’t think. It’s just —” He shrugs. “I’m used to scaring people, too. I don’t mean to. I don’t understand it. I don’t understand what I — do, it’s not intentional.”

Percy opens his mouth, but Nico stumbles on.

“But you’re not — a monster, Percy, gods. No one thinks you’re a monster. Especially not Annabeth.”

Percy wiggles his finger under his watch strap, turning it tightly around his wrist, cutting off the circulation. Nico watches but doesn’t say anything.

“You’re not, either.”

Nico blinks. “Huh?”

“A monster,” he explains. “You’re not, either.”

“Oh.” Nico shrugs. “Thanks, I guess.”

“No, I mean it, dude, I — look. Listen.” Percy sighs. “You got baggage. I put some of it on you. I’m sorry.”

Hands around his — throat — angry, angry eyes — harder — bruising — you promised! you promised! you promised!

“It’s fine.” A pause. “I did shit to you, too.”

“It’s not fine. And I know you did. We can still —”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. He sighs again, a long, defeated sound, and curls in on himself.

“One day you’ll forgive yourself,” Nico murmurs. “One day I’ll — me too, I guess. Me and you.”

Percy smiles tiredly. “And we’ll be okay?”

“No. You’ll still be annoying.”

He snorts. “Whatever. Drama queen.”

“Oh, I’m the drama queen, Mr. I Don’t Deserve To Be Loved.”

Percy snorts. He turns back to his textbook, fiddling with the dried page, and snorts again, trying to duck his head. Nico bites the corner of his mouth, hard. Percy glances up again, and Nico meets his eyes, and they —

Gods, they’re bad at this.

But suddenly Percy can’t choke back his laughter, and it’s wheezing and self-deprecating and still kind of teary and Nico is laughing, too, because thank the gods that shit is over. Percy’s red-cheeked and Nico is red-cheeked and neither of them are going to look at each other for a week, Nico’s sure, but for now he can roll his eyes at Percy’s melodrama and dodge his embarrassed shoving, and it’s fine.

“You should talk to Annabeth,” Nico suggests, when the giggling has toned down.

Percy picks at the torn-up skin around his nails. “Probably.”

“Are you going to?”

“Why were you lying on the floor?” Percy asks instead. It is the least subtle subject change of all time, but Nico takes it as the hint it is and drops the subject. It’s not his business, anyway. They’ll talk. He knows Annabeth better than to think she’ll let it fester, at least.

“Oh, you know. Crushing weight of being alive, mortifying ordeal of being known, et cetera, et cetera.”

“Oh my gods. I’m sorry I asked.”

“Well, serves you right then, you selfish bitch.”

Percy snorts. “What, I cry all over you and now it’s your turn to vent?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly how it works. Transactional and eye-for-an-eye. Exactly as friendship should be.”

“You’re not nearly as funny as you think you are,” Percy says, but he can’t tamp down his smile any more than he can stop his eyes from rolling, so there. Nico is exactly as funny as he thinks he is, thank you very much. A regular comedian.

Percy snaps textbook closed and sets it on the bedside table. “So.”

“So.”

Nico squirms. Suddenly he’s not sure why the hell he came in here in the first place. Are the floors in Cabin Thirteen really that bad? Surely not. Surely Floor Time didn’t have to be in Percy’s cabin.

(He blames Father for this. He’s horribly nosy. No doubt he’s passed his nosiness onto Nico, irregardless of his lack of DNA, and made Nico the way that he is. He can’t think of a single other reason he ducked into the cabin after lunch, when Percy still hadn’t shown his face.)

“Dude, come on. You came in here and whined and huffed and made a nuisance of yourself for literally forty minutes, and now that I’m giving you the attention you begged for you don’t want it? Nuh-uh. Spill.”

“There’s nothing to spill about,” Nico protests, “gods, can’t a man just complain in peace —”

“Ha! Not sure you can call yourself a ‘man’ if you’re voice is still cracking, squirt.”

“I literally hate you. Not joking.”

“Uh-huh. Okay.” Percy raises an eyebrow. “Well, since my guts are already spilled out and flopping all over the floor —”

“Disgusting.”

“—so it’s your turn, now.” He pokes Nico’s bicep. Nico bats him away, rolling off the bed and hitting the floor, scooting over to put more space between them. Thankfully, Percy doesn’t follow, and he exhales, settling his back against the bed frame. The mattress springs creak again as he readjusts. “You can tell me, you know.” Nico can hear the smile in his voice at the cheeky repitition. “I won’t — tell anyone. Or anything. Ahem.”

“You’re so annoying.” Nico picks at a loose thread in the knees of his pants, looping it around his finger.

Will thinks ripped jeans are stupid. He hadn’t said so outright, when Nico came back from his Aphrodite-Cabin-enforced shopping trip, but Nico had noticed his pursed lips and deliberately schooled face. When he’d pressed about it, pestering him until he’d given up with the very southern passive aggressive if you like, Nico, I love, don’t you worry about it answer, he’d gotten a forty minute rant about jeans that “sold less jean for more fuckin’ money” that made him laugh until he cried.

He yanks the thread and pulls. The hole widens.

“Oh my gods, you’re actually whipped. Is that what this is?”

Nico flushes. “Shut up.”

“It is!” Percy grins widely, wicked delight in his eyes. “You are literally thinking about him right now! You might as well be kicking your feet! You —”

“Shut up, Percy, gods.”

“I’ve never seen you so red,” he says instead, because he is incapable of following instructions. His smile fades, face softening into something more pensive. “You must really like him.”

Nico shrugs. Is that what he feels for Will? Gorgeous. I’ve been crushing on you forever. He likes a lot of people. You always know just what I need. A lot of people aren’t Will.

“He’s not scared of me.” No matter how much he fiddles with it, the metal of his ring is always cold. Cold hands, he supposes. He never heats up much. “Or. intimated. Creeped out. He thinks I’m —”

He clamps his mouth shut. A bubble of something expands in his chest, growing out of his lungs, past his shoulders, pushing his throat closed. He swallows, hard, trying to shove it back, but — Nico! Hey! You think I couldn’t stand to see a friendly face? No way, Death Boy, no more Underworld-y magic for you! I can literally feel you fading! My hands are still shaking — here, feel.

“Gorgeous?” The smile on Percy’s face is teasing, but much softer than before. “I heard he — said.”

Maybe it’s the redness of Percy’s nose that hasn’t quite faded, or his still-puffy eyes, but finally the bubble pops, and Nico sighs, tipping his head back until it rests on the edge of the bed. He closes his eyes. After a beat of hesitation, callused fingers brush through his hair, ruffling it, lingering awkwardly before pulling away. He smiles.

“Yes.”

“…Really? He just up and told you, that he had a —”

Percy stumbles on the words. Nico peeks one eye open and grinning wryly. “Yeah. He’s a hell of a lot braver than I am. Or maybe he’s just shameless.”

“He was always really intense about being your friend.” Percy screws up his face, tilting his head as if envisioning it. “I didn’t understand what that meant, at first. I didn’t get…the reason? Behind it? If that makes sense.”

“You forgot about gay people,” Nico says drily. “I know.”

“This is true,” Percy admits. He grins, sheepish. “That’s an L on my part. Every time me and Annabeth went looking for you he’d somehow know about it and ask us a bajillion questions when we got back. I just thought he was really into necromancy, or something, but now it’s like…damn.”

Nico covers his eyes with his hand, fighting back an embarrassed smile. He thinks your eyes are a tie between moonstone and agate, in case you were wondering. There is literally not a single soul in this camp unaware about how much he likes you.

“You’d think it would be easier to get him to go out with me, then.”

“It hasn’t been?”

Nico throws his hands up. “No! He doesn’t — I got him flowers, Percy, and he ground them up to make a poultice. He thought the rock I got him was a bribe. I open every door for him and I always pull out a chair for him at counsellor meetings. I make sure to stand up first when we’re sitting together and offer him a hand. I don’t know what else I can — do, gods.” He makes a noise of frustration, glaring at the ceiling. “I’m being as obvious as I can be. What am I gonna have to do to get him to realise? Fuckin’ — tattoo his name on my forehead?”

Percy slides his hand into his pocket, pulling out his pen. He twists it around his fingers, fiddling with the cap, picking at the plastic casing. He uses the end of it to trace mindless swirls on his thigh, which Nico can’t help but feel is dangerous. One wrong move and he better hope Nico can drag him to the fountain fast enough to stabilize him. But his eyes are far away, teeth gnawing on the inside of his cheek.

“There is a chance,” he says slowly, “that he…knows.”

Nico frowns, turning to face him properly. He looks resolutely at his lap. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I — well.” He does finally uncap his blade, staring at the soft glow of the bronze, rubbing his thumbnail over the leather handle. “I. Knew,” he says haltingly. “That Annabeth liked me. I —”

Nico watches him carefully. This is…news, to him. He didn’t keep up much on camp drama about the two of them — for obvious reasons — but he hardly had to. Even during his brief, one or two day stops at Camp, Percy and Annabeth gossip was impossible to avoid. People talked about them constantly, about how much they obviously cared for each other, how oblivious, especially, Percy was. It used to give him a twisted sort of hope.

“You…knew? And you didn’t do anything?”

Percy winces. “She got frustrated with hiding it. She kissed me, once, before I blew up St. Helens. And I just —” He shrugs. “I couldn’t believe that someone like her would want anything to do with someone like me.”

It’s impossible to miss his meaning, to miss the self-directed bitterness at the end of his words. Nico recognises it because he practically invented it. Someone like me. Someone disgusting, ugly, unworthy. Someone bitter and twisted and wrong. Someone so undeserving.

“I think Will is like me,” Percy continues softly. “That — insecurity.” He says the word quickly, like he might be able to hide it in the rest of the sentence. “I think he thinks very highly of you. And I think it’s hard for him to believe that you want to — to lower yourself, to be with him.”

“That’s inane,” Nico argues. “He’s — bright and kind and smart and — he’s fucking everything, what is he —!”

“He grew up a healer in a camp full of warriors. Full of talented people,” Percy murmurs. “When you’re surrounded by people who know what they’re doing, it’s easy to feel like a loser.”

Nico opens his mouth, closing it again. On principle he doesn’t agree with Percy. It doesn’t make sense. Every single person at this camp has relied on Will in more than one way for as long as he’s been here — as long as he’s been healing them. How could he not know what his purpose is? How could he not realise his talents?

Ace bandage, sound and unwound. Hard blue eyes, self-directed sneer. I’m just a healer.

“He’s not a loser,” Nico says eventually. “I don’t think he’s a — loser.”

Nico thinks he’s quite a bit more than that, actually. In fact if all words in the any language he knows, ‘loser’ is probably the least apt to describe him.

“How do I make him realise? Make him —”

Percy shrugs. “Took Annabeth several years and I still think I’m — well. I still struggle. You’ll have to be patient.” He glances over, and that mischevious smile is back on his face, the one that promises trouble and guarantees Nico an excuse to kick him. “Or, you know, you could just tell him that you think he’s bright, and kind, and smart, and beautiful, and —”

Nico does indeed kick him. He falls back against his pillow, laughing, curled against his side.

“I did not — I did not say beautiful,” Nico says hotly, “that was not on the list, you total jackass —”

Percy only laughs harder, no matter how many times Nico kicks him.

———

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skylersprompts · 3 months

Text

DC x DP Prompt *30*

If anyone would ask Bruce how he could have known, he would tell them that it is obvious. Phantom - the new part-time member of the Young Justice - who seemed to be forever young and their new engineer Danny Fenton who is in his early twenties have perfectly fitting schedules. When Fenton is working in the Watchtower, Phantom will be unavailable for the Young Justice and vice versa. Also, the pranks started after both of these figures appeared. Of course one could argue that they could just be related or somehow knew each other otherwise, but the pranks that were pulled on all of the mentors of the Young Justice were only possible with Phantom Powers. And because of the new Ghost Shield the young hero wouldn't be able to just fly into the Watchtower and had to use the Zeta-Tube, what would mean that they should be able to look at the logs. But Phantom never entered the Watchtower while the pranks were under way. And as soon as his team really needed him, Fenton would make an excuse to leave work early.

What he wouldn't tell anyone, is that he saw how Fenton had transformed himself into Phantom, shortly before the Flash got up to run for a snack, just to fall down because his ankles had been cuffed together.

And maybe he helped him from time to time, with a well timed question to distract his fellow heros. Because the motive became clear really fast. Everytime someone got pranked, that someone had done something to ignite the wrath of the younger heros.

All of that also meant two things.

First of all, as soon as Danny was at work, Batman would be extra aware of his surroundings. The pranks never worked on him, which meant he had to dodge more attempts for the rest of the day.

And secondly: He should talk to Tim, after he found out how he had put his foot in his mouth this time, since he just saw his spoon move in his coffee mug without anyone's involvement. He just let his (probably salty) coffee go cold, brooding. Maybe he should go home early today and spend some quality time with his son...

#skylers prompts #dcxdp #dcxdp prompt #dpxdc #don't tag the danny phantom fandom #bruce wayne #justice league #young justice #Danny is a part-time member of the young justice #he doesn't like it when his new friends are hurt/sad #so he pranks the adult hero responsible #bruce knows #everyone else is losing their mind #but Bruce now knows that he upset Tim somehow and tries to talk things out #Tim knows that Bruces knows but it works either way #Danny the engineer getting a text from Kon that they really need his help: “My sister just texted me that Cujo ate a entire Chocolate cake!#I have to bring him to the vet!“

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bluerosefox · 4 months

Text

The Drakes

It's been years since the Bats had seen Red Robin much less Tim Drake-Wayne. It started with a rather dumb argument that after years of holding back his tongue and the stress of being a TEENAGE CEO that Tim finally ripped into them.

They were too stunned by the end of his speech, him also admitting that yes he has his own problems and mistakes but at least he's trying to make amends or get over himself unlike others. It was their prolonged silence that was the final straw for him it seemed though, because Tim finally announced he was done, he was done bleeding for those that kept him on the edge of the family and that he wanted to rest, and with that Tim turned and left the Batcave for the final time.

They of course didn't take Tim's retirement announcement seriously, after all Tim was the last person other than Bruce they all believed would ever leave the life of a vigilante and a hero behind, and they all knew Bruce would keep working on the 'mission' even as a frail old man. It took them a few weeks before one of them finally decided to go see Tim and try to... talk about everything he said.

Only when they reached Tim's Nest, they discovered it was empty and he was no where to be found did they realize he was serious. It was a quick call to Wayne Enterprises to see if he was in and Tam no doubt holding back her sharp response to them that she told them that Tim had stepped down from CEO weeks ago and hasn't been heard from since. The one who went to see Tim immediately called the others, which sent many of them onto goose chase of false leads, arguments, and pointing blame.

Despite looking for their long lost Red Robin, he was good at hiding his tracks and any who might have an idea where he could be weren't talking.

So yeah it's been a while since the Bats had heard any news relating to their lost bird.

So imagine their surprise when Ra's latest attempt to upset the balance in their family again (did he want Damian to return as his heir? Take control over Gotham in the shadow? Upset Bruce? None of them honestly knew what his plan was anymore. Same old song and dance) and having captured them all that he brought up Tim to them. Or rather "shame the Detective is going to be late, but I'm sure his little family shall inform of things once he gets here."

None of them were expecting for Ra's to look away from them and with a snap of his fingers, three assassins brought forth into the room two others. One was being dragged by two assassins, black hair, pale skin, and lean swimmers build of a body. He looked roughly around the age Tim would be. He was placed on the floor right by Ra's boots, arms and legs tied up, clearly but alarmingly breathing low and slow from the raise and fall of their chest. He wore a simple T-shirt but had dark jacket that was covered in stars, NASA logos, and other galaxy themed patches all over it, his dark jeans also held some star patches but also held everyday stains from being outside in the grass and other normal day to day thing. All in all this person seems like a normal civilian individual and none of the Bats knew why Ra's had taken him.

The other assassin that had walked into the room was holding a toddler, a girl from the little pigtails on her messy head indicated. Her hair was just as dark as the passed out male by Ra's and her skin was shade healthier than him. She wore grass stained and messy paints caked overalls with a plan shirt under it and two different kinds of kids shoes (one was a green with dinosaurs and the other blue with little stars). She, unlike the young man on the floor, was awake and was looking around the room while sucking her thumb in clear distress, she also used her free hand that wasn't in her mouth to push the assassin holding onto her away from her as far as she could and was squirming her tiny legs enough to kick their sides. Thankfully the assassin didn't look too hostile or upset meaning she wasn't doing to much damage or being too annoying.

"What a lovely family the Timothy has gained for himself don't you think? I will admit Daniel put up a rather interesting fight, it was only due to us having the element of surprise that we managed to take him down and his little Eleanor has his fighting spirit it seems." Ra's said as he slowly reached over to the toddler to lightly fiddle (just to unnerve them as well) with her hair. However the moment he touched her hair, the little girl's eyes flashed from frosty blue to neon bright green and she had spat her thumb out of her mouth in order to hiss like a cat at him, her little feet kicking hard enough to cause a small 'oomph' from the one holding her.

Ra's gave an amused chuckle as he stared at the toddler in fascination before also casting his gaze down at the passed out young man, remembering the way his eyes also had flashed from blue to green and the amount of power he had saw bubble to the surface when they had ambushed the two in their home. As Ra's said before, if they hadn't had the element of surprise on their side when they went after Timothy's little family it wouldn't had worked. No doubt little Eleanor Drake was a hint of power Daniel Drake held.

Ra's turned to look at the Bats, and could clearly see the emotions on their faces which amused Ra's deeply, and couldn't help but say "Although I wasn't expecting him to marry a being with pure Lazarus blood flowing in their veins. Quite a interesting discovery that was. And that his offspring seemed to carry it also from birth. What lovely and priceless boons he has granted the League to have once he joins us."

Ra's could clearly see the questioning, fear (for the family in his clutches), confusion, and disbelief on the Bats faces and knew it would be so entertaining to watch the little.. family reunion he had set into motion.

He was so amused watching Batman the others he never noticed the light twitch on Daniel's face or the shifting breathing pattern. When he would later check to see of the large amount of tranquilizers they had given Daniel was still in-effect he was none the wiser that it had already wore off and that Danny was merely bidding his time for a opening.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #crossover #blue rambles #writing ideas #random idea #danny phantom dc #dpxdc #Tim and Danny had meet when they were 13 and 14 #they meet during Tim's training in Paris when becoming Robin and Danny had wanted some time alone to think after beating his future evilsel #Danny had flown far to clear his head and didnt notice he was in Paris until he ran into Tim and Tim tried talking French to him #they did become friends #because this is during then time Bruce wasnt... ok. Tim wasnt willing to tell him he made a ghosty friend #thus kept Danny his little secret #Danny was the person Tim talked to about everything #well almost. He didnt wanna burden his friend during the time Kon and Bart died or when Batman was thought to be dead too #Danny had felt hurt during that tbh and bit did strain their friendship for a bit but they talked about it.#Danny likes talking to Tim because he gets it #he gets and understands the stress of being a teen hero with so much responsibility #understands the worry and stress that his friends or Jazz dont get #Tim was the one that helped Danny understand that despite his parents loving him. that their work should never ever come first #Eleanor is Danielle btw #she had destabilized a few years ago #and only thanks to CW Frostbite and Tim's help they managed to save what they could of her #meaning she had to be deaged with Tim's human DNA to stabilizes her halfa genes #Tim is not going to be a happy when he storms Ra's little base btw #not at all #and neither is Danny tbh #brain dead

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