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r3ynah · 3 months

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To be with you three

The justice league was in critical condition, a unknown entity had breached the universe's protection, and was now creating havoc everywhere.

He called himself, Skulker. he already had captured half of the justice league. and was only interested in fighting Red hood. Something about being a Halfa or something.

Red hood was not having fun, nor was Batman. Everything was in shambles. Even the most powerful cannot defeat the floating entity. the JLD was trying the best they could but to no avail they couldn't contain it, The entity aimed his weapon at Red hood and took fire.

When all hope seemed lost, Vines sprouted up the ground and saved Red hood in the last minute. The other vines also grabbed the other heroes and made a protective barrier between the entity and the JL.

confused the heroes looked at the rogue who was floating, his expression was now with fear and nervousness, he frantically looked at his surrounding seemingly expecting something.

"Are you all alright?" A voice asked, making all heads turn towards to a woman that looked like she's in early adulthood, with long black hair cascading down to hair waists, she looked like someone that can fit into Gotham's aesthetic with her thick eyeliner and her gothic style and a couple of vines that wrapped around her body.

"Who are you?" Batman asked his guard not wavering a single bit.

"My name is Foliahàrà, And we're here to take care of that Ghost." Sam pointed towards Skulker who was looking at her nervously.

"We're?" Superman asked

"Me and my partners. speaking of them here they are right now." Sam said in a tone that no one could specify if she's bored or it's just her personality.

A loud bang shook the city, when they looked back were the entity named Skulker was now gone, In his place was a man? woman? with white hair and green eyes, he had a cloak that shrieks royalty and a black pointy crown floating above their head, Skulker was now on the ground, a crater was formed below him, he was down. he was down. and all it took was a punch from the person

Another man came to the scene he was holding a thermos of some sort. he looked normal, normal clothes and all to the very least if you ignored all the gadgets and sand that followed him, he walked up to Skulker who was most likely knocked out, he opened the thermos and it turned the entity into a liquid before trapping it inside.

"Well that's taken care of." Foliahàrà said, as she retracted her vines that was protecting everyone, she froze then turned her surprised gaze towards Red Hood and eyed him making him uncomfortable, she floated to his direction making the man take a step back, Batman tried to hit her with his batarang keyword:tried, it just went through her.

for the first time she arrived she smiled at hood then with the outmost gentle voice she said. "you're a baby ghost." She cooed as she placed both of her hands at the side of Red hood's head, which he stared at her confused more confused when the pits became quiet all the sudden.

"I've got to tell Phantom and Codelith." she stated and took flight with the crime lord in her arms, she carried him towards her partners in the sky like a newborn baby, protests from the heroes below was ignored by Sam, as she continued to fly up, when superman tried to get her, she shot out a few of her vines that successfully trapped the hero, he tried to escape but her vines was stronger, and why was this power making him weak? like it doesn't hurt but it makes him really tired .

Red hood stayed quiet, trying to comprehend what happened did he get kidnapped or something? holy shit he did get kidnapped.

"Phantom, Codelith! I got a baby!" Sam stated as she finally catched up to them.

"Holy shit, Foliahàrà you can't just kidnap someone else's child" The one with glasses exclaimed with panicked hands, as he teleported near them.

"Cool new kid, More members for our cult" Phantom said as he floated towards red hood who still held onto the Photalis, because when i tell you he was afraid to fall 30 meters from the ground is an understatement.

#dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpdc #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc fanfic #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp #dpxdc fanart #dpxdc #Danny is nonbinary #Sam welcomed herself as the daughter of undergrowth #tucker became a pharaoh and a hacker #regular ghosts from the realms like skulker are very powerful #amity park is just built different

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bet-on-me-13 · 5 months

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Danny goes on Vacation and leaves his job to his Co-workers

So! Danny hasn't had a break from his Hero Career since the day he turned into a Ghost. He has been constantly fighting battle after battle against his worst enemies one after the other.

Even after joining the Justice League, he didn't really have a chance to take a break. He never really asked for help because it didn't seem like a big enough deal to bother them with. He just kept on working.

Until the day he accidently mentioned this to one of his Co-workers, and they practically Force him to take a Vacation.

He has been fighting Crime, nearly every single day since he was 14, with at most a day or two in between battles for all that time, and he is now entering his 20's. They are horrified that he never asked them for help, no matter how easy the job may have been.

After a while of convincing him, they eventually get him to agree to tale a Month-Long Vacation.

He actually gets really excited after he agrees, and he is planning on exploring deep space for the entire month. He is actually really looking forwards to it now, and seeing this everyone who volunteered to take over his Patrols all promise that they will absolutely not bother him until the trip is done.

So, Danny leaves for his Vacation and the other Heroes set up shop in Amity Park.

Danny left them instructions on how to deal with Ghosts, how to pacify specific Rogues, and how to sent them back to the Ghost Zone when they are done. They feel like they are fairly well prepared for their Month Long Mission, especially since Danny described it as a very easy job.

Then the first Rogue Attack happened.

The team dispatched there, made up of a few mid-level JLA Members and some JLD Members for safe measure, takes nearly an Hour to defeat the Ghost. And they barely manage it.

They are surprised at how hard it is, but are even more surprised when they find out that the "Box Ghost" is labeled as a Low-Level Nuisance.

So, they call in a few higher level members to help. They do not want to interrupt Danny's Vacation.

Then they have to call in more JLA members, and again, and again.

By the time Danny managed to get back from his Vacation, the Founding Members and all JLD have been called in.

He thanks then for the opportunity to finally have a break.

Danny: Seriously, thanks guys. This was the best break I've had in years.

JLA: *out of breath and haggard* yeah dude...no problem...let me just sit down for a minute...whew!

Danny: Oh, I can't wait for the next time I can go on vacation!

JLA: *looking like this: 😐* ...yeah sure bro...

#Dpxdc #Dp x dc #Dcxdp #Dc x dp #Danny Phantom #Dc #Dcu #Danny takes a Break #Danny goes on Vacation #Danny severely underestimates himself and his Rogues #The JLA find out that Danny hasn't had a break since he was 14 #They immediately force him on a vacation #Cue their instant regret #They do not call Danny back for help because they promised that they wouldn't #Also they have too much pride to admit that they are desperately in need of the help #(And they are embarrassed that they needed the help of a few civilians last time it happened)#Danny when he gets back: You guys look a little tired #JLA on their last legs: We look Awesome #(Yes that was a Steven universe reference)

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pricklerat · 1 year

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Looking after a hedgehog overnight until the vets can take him in the morning and he's so stinky and cute and STINKY

#he was out in the day so i went to give him mealworms and check on him and he was not doing good #all the rescues are full and none of the vets would take him until tomorrow #i love him i hope he makes it through everything #between this and the rogue flightless magpie in the orchard i cant get near so im feeding and a teenage puppy i am STRESSED #its not sickness stinky its just natural stank never meet your heroes apartmently they keep rotting foilage and food in their burrows too

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cuddlytogas · 1 month

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So I accidentally almost got into an argument on Twitter, and now I'm thinking about bad historical costuming tropes. Specifically, Action Hero Leather Pants.

See, I was light-heartedly pointing out the inaccuracies of the costumes in Black Sails, and someone came out of the woodwork to defend the show. The misunderstanding was that they thought I was dismissing the show just for its costumes, which I wasn't - I was simply pointing out that it can't entirely care about material history (meaning specifically physical objects/culture) if it treats its clothes like that.

But this person was slightly offended on behalf of their show - especially, quote, "And from a fan of OFMD, no less!" Which got me thinking - it's true! I can abide a lot more historical costuming inaccuracy from Our Flag than I can Black Sails or Vikings. And I don't think it's just because one has my blorbos in it. But really, when it comes down to it...

What is the difference between this and this?

Here's the thing. Leather pants in period dramas isn't new. You've got your Vikings, Tudors, Outlander, Pirates of the Caribbean, Once Upon a Time, Will, The Musketeers, even Shakespeare in Love - they love to shove people in leather and call it a day. But where does this come from?

Obviously we have the modern connotations. Modern leather clothes developed in a few subcultures: cowboys drew on Native American clothing. (Allegedly. This is a little beyond my purview, I haven't seen any solid evidence, and it sounds like the kind of fact that people repeat a lot but is based on an assumption. I wouldn't know, though.) Leather was used in some WWI and II uniforms.

But the big boom came in the mid-C20th in motorcycle, punk/goth, and gay subcultures, all intertwined with each other and the above. Motorcyclists wear leather as practical protective gear, and it gets picked up by rock and punk artists as a symbol of counterculture, and transferred to movie designs. It gets wrapped up in gay and kink communities, with even more countercultural and taboo meanings. By the late C20th, leather has entered mainstream fashion, but it still carries those references to goths, punks, BDSM, and motorbike gangs, to James Dean, Marlon Brando, and Mick Jagger. This is whence we get our Spikes and Dave Listers in 1980s/90s media, bad boys and working-class punks.

And some of the above "historical" design choices clearly build on these meanings. William Shakespeare is dressed in a black leather doublet to evoke the swaggering bad boy artist heartthrob, probably down on his luck. So is Kit Marlowe.

But the associations get a little fuzzier after that. Hook, with his eyeliner and jewellery, sure. King Henry, yeah, I see it. It's hideously ahistorical, but sure. But what about Jamie and Will and Ragnar, in their browns and shabby, battle-ready chic? Well, here we get the other strain of Bad Period Drama Leather.

See, designers like to point to history, but it's just not true. Leather armour, especially in the western/European world, is very, very rare, and not just because it decays faster than metal. (Yes, even in ancient Greece/Rome, despite many articles claiming that as the start of the leather armour trend!) It simply wasn't used a lot, because it's frankly useless at defending the body compared to metal. Leather was used as a backing for some splint armour pieces, and for belts, sheathes, and buckles, but it simply wasn't worn like the costumes above. It's heavy, uncomfortable, and hard to repair - it's simply not practical for a garment when you have perfectly comfortable, insulating, and widely available linen, wool, and cotton!

As far as I can see, the real influence on leather in period dramas is fantasy. Fantasy media has proliferated the idea of leather armour as the lightweight choice for rangers, elves, and rogues, a natural, quiet, flexible material, less flashy or restrictive than metal. And it is cheaper for a costume department to make, and easier for an actor to wear on set. It's in Dungeons and Dragons and Lord of the Rings, King Arthur, Runescape, and World of Warcraft.

And I think this is how we get to characters like Ragnar and Vane. This idea of leather as practical gear and light armour, it's fantasy, but it has this lineage, behind which sits cowboy chaps and bomber/flight jackets. It's usually brown compared to the punk bad boy's black, less shiny, and more often piecemeal or decorated. In fact, there's a great distinction between the two Period Leather Modes within the same piece of media: Robin Hood (2006)! Compare the brooding, fascist-coded villain Guy of Gisborne with the shabby, bow-wielding, forest-dwelling Robin:

So, back to the original question: What's the difference between Charles Vane in Black Sails, and Edward Teach in Our Flag Means Death?

Simply put, it's intention. There is nothing intentional about Vane's leather in Black Sails. It's not the only leather in the show, and it only says what all shabby period leather says, relying on the same tropes as fantasy armour: he's a bad boy and a fighter in workaday leather, poor, flexible, and practical. None of these connotations are based in reality or history, and they've been done countless times before. It's boring design, neither historically accurate nor particularly creative, but much the same as all the other shabby chic fighters on our screens. He has a broad lineage in Lord of the Rings and Pirates of the Caribbean and such, but that's it.

In Our Flag, however, the lineage is much, much more intentional. Ed is a direct homage to Mad Max, the costuming in which is both practical (Max is an ex-cop and road warrior), and draws on punk and kink designs to evoke a counterculture gone mad to the point of social breakdown, exploiting the thrill of the taboo to frighten and titillate the audience.

In particular, Ed is styled after Max in the second movie, having lost his family, been badly injured, and watched the world turn into an apocalypse. He's a broken man, withdrawn, violent, and deliberately cutting himself off from others to avoid getting hurt again. The plot of Mad Max 2 is him learning to open up and help others, making himself vulnerable to more loss, but more human in the process.

This ties directly into the themes of Our Flag - it's a deliberate intertext. Ed's emotional journey is also one from isolation and pain to vulnerability, community, and love. Mad Max (intentionally and unintentionally) explores themes of masculinity, violence, and power, while Max has become simplified in the popular imagination as a stoic, badass action hero rather than the more complex character he is, struggling with loss and humanity. Similarly, Our Flag explores masculinity, both textually (Stede is trying to build a less abusive pirate culture) and metatextually (the show champions complex, banal, and tender masculinities, especially when we're used to only seeing pirates in either gritty action movies or childish comedies).

Our Flag also draws on the specific countercultures of motorcycles, rockers, and gay/BDSM culture in its design and themes. Naturally, in such a queer show, one can't help but make the connection between leather pirates and leather daddies, and the design certainly nods at this, with its vests and studs. I always think about this guy, with his flat cap so reminiscient of gay leather fashions.

More overtly, though, Blackbeard and his crew are styled as both violent gangsters and countercultural rockstars. They rove the seas like a bikie gang, free and violent, and are seen as icons, bad boys and celebrities. Other pirates revere Blackbeard and wish they could be on his crew, while civilians are awed by his reputation, desperate for juicy, gory details.

This isn't all of why I like the costuming in Our Flag Means Death (especially season 1). Stede's outfits are by no means accurate, but they're a lot more accurate than most pirate media, and they're bright and colourful, with accurate and delightful silks, lace, velvets, and brocades, and lovely, puffy skirts on his jackets. Many of the Revenge crew wear recognisable sailor's trousers, and practical but bright, varied gear that easily conveys personality and flair. There is a surprising dedication to little details, like changing Ed's trousers to fall-fronts for a historical feel, Izzy's puffy sleeves, the handmade fringe on Lucius's red jacket, or the increasing absurdity of navy uniform cuffs between Nigel and Chauncey.

A really big one is the fact that they don't shy away from historical footwear! In almost every example above, we see the period drama's obsession with putting men in skinny jeans and bucket-top boots, but not only does Stede wear his little red-heeled shoes with stockings, but most of his crew, and the ordinary people of Barbados, wear low boots or pumps, and even rough, masculine characters like Pete wear knee breeches and bright colours. It's inaccurate, but at least it's a new kind of inaccuracy, that builds much more on actual historical fashions, and eschews the shortcuts of other, grittier period dramas in favour of colour and personality.

But also. At least it fucking says something with its leather.

#everyone say 'thank you togas' for not including a long tangent about evil rimmer in red dwarf 5x05 #Our Flag Means Death #Togas does meta #and yes these principles DO fall apart slightly in s2 and i DON'T like those costumes as much #don't get me wrong they're fun and gorgeous - but generally a bit less deep and more inaccurate. so. :(#I'm not sure this really says anything new about Our Flag but I just needed to get my thoughts out #i hate hate hate Gritty Period Drama costumes they're so boring and so ugly and so wrong #god bless OFMD for using more than 3 muted colours and actually putting men in heels (and not as a shorthand for rich/foppish villainy) <3 #looking at that Tudors still is insane like they really will go to any lengths to not make men feel like they've got bare legs XD #image descriptions in alt text #and yes i DID just sink about two hours into those so you'd better appreciate them

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mikakuna · 2 months

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i would genuinely love a red hood show like the harley quinn show. a feel-good, comedy series that follows jason coming back from the dead and becoming red hood, getting his crew, becoming a crime lord, interacting with the bats and the rogues- it would be so fun, i'm convinced

jason's dark humour, stupid moments between him and bruce (less angsty and more bruce being an awkward dad), cute dad-son moments between him and harvey where harvey brags about jason and jason being so over it, the other rogues being so irritated by jason because he keeps foiling their plans, harley and him bonding over how shitty joker was (he's dead), and overall jason just being super fun to watch.

because let's be honest, jason is literally the kind of anti-hero character who would be so engaging to watch as a main character in a dark comedy.

#the heads in a duffel bag situation would be hilarious in a show like harley quinn #just the blunt reactions and overall what the fuck-ness of it all #jason would thrive in a show like this #because shows like these are just stupid and that's what makes it fun #like people who hate jason can make the show and it would still be funny #jason todd #red hood #batman #dc #harley quinn #the harley quinn show #harvey dent #gotham rogues

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luxaofhesperides · 6 months

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Childhood friends to lovers ; requested by @starlightcat04!

Duke’s grandmother lived in Illinois when he was a kid, years before he and his parents were captured by the Joker and the news of it sent her to a hospital that she didn’t leave until Death arrived for her. But before all that, before his life upended and tore itself to shreds in front of him, Duke used to visit her in the summers.

His parents didn’t want to leave Gotham, but they also didn’t want him to grow up there amid all the crime and rogue attacks. The solution was to drive down to his grandmother’s house, suitcase in the trunk, and stay with him there for a few days before they returned to make sure no one broke into their house.

She lived in the outskirts of Amity Park, a town smaller than Gotham and much, much quieter. The change in scenery always blew his mind, and he spent most of his childhood summers running around the woods, accidentally scaring hikers.

There were other kids in Amity, further in towards the suburbs, but he never got along with most of them, too strange, only here for a month or so, and carrying an awareness and sense of danger that all Gothamites had.

He didn’t really have friends in Amity Park, except for one: Danny Fenton, local outcast due to his scientist parents'… everything. His only friend, a boy named Tucker, would always be gone in the summers as well, visiting family in Chicago and Pennsylvania.

They gravitated towards each other, as lonely kids tend to do.

Danny helped make those summers fun, full of laughter and skinned knees and smuggled tech from the Fenton household to mess around with. They shared stories of their lives, comparing Amity Park to Gotham, arguing over superheroes and getting distracted each time by how cool heroes were.

The last summer he ever went to Amity Park, Danny had gotten his first cell phone and eagerly gave Duke his number. Any time they weren’t together, they were texting until they fell asleep, phone still in hand.

The time they spent together was always limited, but Duke could swear that no one in the world knew him as well as Danny did.

He still misses him.

They still text and call when they can, but it’s gotten hard over the past few years. Duke was caught up in foster care and searching for his parents and being part of the We Are Robin gang and then becoming the Signal. Danny, from what he’s shared with Duke, went through similar things of recovering from a lab accident and then having his town be overrun with ghosts, of all things, which had the government get involved and cause problems.

The few times they were able to find a quiet night where they could just talk and be Duke and Danny again were nights he always treasured, though they left an ache in his chest when it was over.

It’s just been so long since they’ve seen each other in person. He doesn’t even know what Danny looks like anymore! And, sure, he could always ask for a picture, but it feels awkward. They know what they looked like before. And they’ve heard each other’s voices, know the basics of what’s going on in each other’s lives…

They still know each other, but Duke is all too aware of the distance that’s grown between them.

“Duke, seriously, what’s got you spacing out so much?” Steph asks, pulling him from his thoughts.

He shrugs, smiling sheepishly. “Just thinking. Sorry about that. What were you saying?”

“I was saying,” she says, “That you should do a road trip. Or just like, travel around. Check out college campuses. Enjoy your last summer vacation of high school! Trust me, you’ll want the break before going into senior year.”

“Just because you’re two years older than me—”

“Excuse me for trying to impart my wisdom! See if I help you again when I’m older and wiser.”

“Sure, Steph,” he says, “Whatever you say.”

She squints at him. “What’s with that tone? I’m being helpful right now!”

“Mhm.”

“Geez. I should have let Dick talk to you. Anyways, I already told Bruce that you wanted to do this, so he’s agreed to fund it.”

Duke jerks upright in his seat, nearly falling out of it. “You did WHAT?!”

“You’re welcome,” Steph grins, unrepentant.

“Steph, come on. This is unnecessary. Isn’t it better for me to help out more in the summer? Train more, work with the team on stuff, you know, important things?”

“Duke.” Steph’s voice suddenly turns serious and he can’t help but give her all his attention. “Listen to me. Your life is more important. If Gotham survived when Bruce was the only cape around, then it’ll survive while you prioritize your life. And that means touring colleges to figure out where you want to go.”

“I could just stay here and go to GCU.”

Steph just stares at him, unimpressed, and he has to admit, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not gonna do that.”

“Just enjoy traveling around, okay? And if you want someone to go with you…” she nudges him with her shoulder, repeatedly, very clearly hinting at something.

“I’ll be sure to ask Cass,” Duke says, and Steph rolls her eyes, but doesn’t deny that Cass would be a great travel partner.

Their conversation comes to a halt when an alarm on her phone goes off and she drops her head with a groan. She grabs her bag and takes off with a quick explanation that she has to get to class, one she hates but is determined to ace just to spite the professor, and in no time at all, Duke is alone again.

Without Steph providing him a distraction, Duke has nothing to do but read through his texts with Danny. It hasn’t been that long since they last talked; four days ago is nothing compared to the months of silence that went between them a few years ago. They’ve gotten better since staying in contact since then, and make sure to text at least once a week.

It’s not perfect, but it’s better than nothing.

He considers asking Danny where he’s planning to go. Maybe they could go to the same place together, live in the same apartment, be able to finally stick together. Not that it’ll ever happen; the more likely outcome is that they’ll be accepted into different universities, chose places closer to their respective homes, and still be far apart.

An idea begins to form in his mind.

They’ve had summers together before. Maybe they could have one more.

First, he needs to talk to Bruce.

He’s working from home, thankfully, typing away at a laptop in his office when Duke knocks on the door and pokes his head in.

“Duke,” Bruce smiles, pushes his laptop away. “Come in.”

“Hey. Steph said she talked to you about me traveling this summer?”

“Yes. She was very insistent that you go visit any universities that pique your interest. I’ve already agreed to fund everything, and I can take care of plane tickets and hotels as well.”

Duke nods, trying not to look too nervous. “Yeah, so about that. Could I travel with someone? Would that be cool? Or is this a thing for me only?”

Bruce blinks. “I promise cost is not an issue. Adding another person won’t be a problem. Who is it?”

“Ah, no one you know. He’s a childhood friend of mine who lives in Illinois, and I’d like to spend a summer with him again.”

“Who is it?”

Oh boy. Bruce is definitely going to find everything he can about Danny and his family and start interrogating Duke about him. But if that’s going to let him travel the country with Danny, then he’s more than willing to deal with it.

“Danny Fenton, from Amity Park. The town with the ghost problem.”

Bruce leans back in his chair. “I’ve heard of them. The League discussed investigating it when the news first got out, but Constantine warned us to stay away due to risk of possession. It seems that the local hero, Phantom, has it all in hand.” Bruce nods, already thinking deeply about his next steps. “Alright, I’ll need to do some research. And send me a list of the universities you’d like to visit so I can plan your itinerary.”

“Cool. Thanks, B.”

Duke leaves as quickly as he can after that, letting out a relieved breath once he’s sure no one is around to hear it.

Step one is done.

Now for step two: communication.

duke: hey, are you free for a call anytime soon? danny: yeah! we can call now if u want :)

Well! That was way faster than he was expecting.

He all but sprints through the halls to get to his room and locks the door behind himself. It won’t do much to stop anyone from actually coming in, but it is a sign that he wants privacy. Once he’s sure no one is going to be listening in and interrupting, Duke pulls up Danny’s contact and hits the call button.

It rings twice before Danny’s picking up, greeting him with a cheerful, “Hey Duke! What’s up?”

“Hey Danny,” he replies, unable to help the way his voice softens with affection. “So, this is totally out of the blue, but if you could spend this summer going around the country with me, would you?”

“I mean, yeah, obviously. You know I’d do anything to spend more time with you! Why?”

Duke grins. While he was sure about what Danny’s answer would be, that didn’t stop him from worrying about a rejection. “Well. Bruce has offered to fund the entire trip and bring someone along.”

“Wait, seriously? You want me to go with you?”

“Who else? Dude, you know I love spending time with you, and I’ve missed you like crazy.”

“Oh my God, you’re serious. Duke! Yes, I want to be your travel buddy! Are you kidding me? In what world would I say no?”

“Hey, man, you can’t blame me for making sure. Are your parents going to be fine with that?”

Danny goes quiet, and Duke feels his heart drop. “Danny? Is something wrong?”

“No,” Danny says, followed by a bitter laugh. “They won’t care. I’ll just tell them I’m going traveling with a friend and that’ll be enough. They’re too busy to care much about what I do, these days. They probably won’t even notice that I’m gone, now that Jazz isn’t here to remind them that I exist.”

“How is Jazz, by the way? We could visit her.”

“She’s doing fine. Really loving Harvard. And I’d love that Duke. You’re the best.”

The mood of the conversation eases and they fall into the usual rhythm of catching each other up, chatting about their lives and any other thought that crosses their minds. It’s easy for the hours to slip away with Danny, and before he knows it, there’s a knock on his door as Alfred calls him for dinner.

He hangs up with a quick goodbye to Danny, along with a promise to send him the itinerary once it’s made.

Somehow, news of his summer plans get out by the end of the day. Which means Steph blabbed and feels no remorse about it. The next week of Duke’s life is overtaken by nearly every trying to help him plan and prepare for his trip, while lightly interrogating him about Danny. By the time he was heading off to the airport, agreeing to take one of Bruce’s smaller private planes which was piloted by a man who definitely wasn’t Jason going by the name 'Todd Jameson'. Of course not, that would be silly.

(Duke sighed very, very loudly when he saw Jason waving at him from outside the plane. He should have expected the guy to take advantage of Bruce needing a pilot and teasing him about Danny.)

He can’t bring himself to be too bother by it, though, when it means he’ll get to be with Danny again soon. Duke would pay any price to be with him again, so this is hardly anything.

They set off with a wave from Duke and Jason flipping the bird to the rest of the family. And then Jason is up in the cockpit, blasting his playlist of songs from musicals, and Duke is left to wait impatient for the next few hours until they reach Illinois.

The hours pass far too slow but also much too fast. Duke feels like he barely has time to prepare himself before they’re landing smoothly and Danny texts him to let him know he’s at the airport.

Jason sees him off before heading out to take a call from Roy, telling him to find his own way to his hotel. Duke barely pays him enough mind to say goodbye, grabbing his suitcase and hurrying into the airport, searching for the terminal Danny’s at.

He doesn’t find Danny first. Danny finds him and slams into him like a freight train. It’s only his training that keeps Duke from toppling over, dropping his suitcase to hold Danny. They cling to each other tightly, as if they might never see each other again. Danny’s got his legs wrapped around Duke’s waist like a koala, and Duke would be happy to carry him forever.

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” Danny murmurs into his ear. Duke shivers, holding him tighter, and smiles.

“Yeah. I know. Man, you don’t know how much I’ve missed you.”

“I think I can take a pretty good guess.”

Danny pulls away, dropping his feet back to the ground.

Duke is finally able to see Danny for the first time in years, and he’s pretty sure he stops breathing for a solid minute. Danny grew up fine. He’s got the bluest eyes he’s ever seen, and soft black hair that’s a little windswept and messy, and his grin is as bright and beautiful as always. For a moment, Duke wants nothing more than to kiss him.

Then Danny steps back and the thought fades.

“Ready to go? We’re going to UChicago first, yeah?”

“That’s the plan,” Duke says, falling into step with Danny as they make their way out of the airport. “Then a day just to hang out in Chicago before we head to Harvard.”

“Cool,” Danny grins. “Hotel first, though, right?”

“Yeah, man, catch up time is essential.”

Danny glances over at him, something unreadable in his eyes, but he smiles when he sees that Duke is already looking at him. “Let’s get going, then.”

Danny drives them in a car he apparently made himself, which explains why it’s a model Duke’s never seen before. It drives like a dream and Duke is very tempted to get Danny to make one for the Signal, maybe even wrangle up a contract to have him work with Batman Inc.

They spend the two hour drive chatting and laughing as if no time has passed at all since they last saw each other in person. All the years seem to fade away and they’re just Duke and Danny again, spending another summer together.

Check in goes smoothly, and the room Bruce has booked them is large, with two beds, a seating area, and a dining area. A glass door leads to a small balcony with two chairs and a fantastic view of the lake behind the hotel. They set both their suitcases on the luggage rack, and Duke only has time to turn to Danny to ask which bed he wants before he finds himself pressed up against the wall, Danny’s hands on his cheeks.

“Tell me if you don’t want this,” he whispers against Duke’s lips.

Duke doesn’t bother replying. He just leans in, closes the minuscule distance between them, and kisses Danny. It’s soft and sweet and everything he’s ever wanted.

Then Danny makes a small noise in the back of his throat and deepens the kiss. It goes from soft to heated and desperate and all consuming instantly. Duke slides his hands around Danny’s waist, pulling him impossibly closer, and thinks I never want to leave you again.

He’s completely lost track of time when Danny pulls back with gasp. They both take a few seconds to catch their breath, and Duke realizes his cheeks feel cold.

“Sorry,” Danny whispers, pulling his hands away. Duke catches them before they can go too far and holds them together.

“Sorry for what?”

“The frost,” he says, wiggling his fingers lightly. Duke glances down and sees that his fingertips are lightly coated in frost, spilling down his fingers.

“You have powers?”

“Came with the lab accident.”

“Man,” Duke says, “We have got to catch up properly. There’s a ton I haven’t told you.”

Danny laughs lightly, breathlessly. “Oh, for sure. But later. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for years.”

“Danny, baby, you can kiss me all night if you want.”

“I intend to,” he says with a bright grin.

What else could Duke do but lean in and kiss him again?

Nothing else exists in that moment except them. Duke is so, so glad he’s got the rest of summer to spend with Danny. He’s going to take him on dates in every city they visit.

They’ve gone years without seeing each other. Duke refuses to let it happen again. Whatever future awaits them, he’ll do all he can to keep Danny in it.

But for now, he’s got his cute childhood friend to kiss and all the privacy a hotel room can offer. He fully intends to make the most of it.

. . .

[send me a ghostlights prompt!]

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #dc x dp fic #my writing #it was struggle to keep this short bc i love this trope so much!!!#thank u for the prompt!! working on your other one right now :)

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yandere-wishes · 11 months

Text

Spider Bite Love

Synopsis: Miguel loves you, this you know. But neither the story nor the hero ever stops long enough to wonder if you love him too.

Warnings: Choking, Biting, Reader is from Miles' universe, Miguel is kinda a perfectionist. Yandere themes.

Author's note: Forgive the Spanish it's mostly found on Google. I took like four months of Spanish back in 7th grade and have retained exactly 0.1% of that knowledge.

💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙

The future is procaine, all marble white and reflective crystal. Flying cars and a horizon that echoes soft tamed pastels. Nueva York can almost be described as beautiful. Almost.

If not for the technicalities and lies and the loss of total freedom.

If not for a fate that's been prewritten. Repeated across centuries and dimensions. So uncontrollable that it practically cultivates inferiority within your heart. An age-old tradition found in every child's tale about dashing heroes and harrowing villains.

If not for the looming uncomfortable, presence known as Miguel O'Hara who refuses to leave you alone.

Your lover.

Your hero.

Your Spider-man

Although he's not your Spider-Man. Not really. And you're not the love of his life. Not really. You're both just Look-alikes, cheap replicas from a corner dimension.

It's difficult to comprehend, pondering it encompasses you with an unruly headache. Galling and overpowering, not unlike your so-called "Lover".

To put it simply or rather to oversimplify. You are not meant to be here. You are from Earth-1610, at least you think you are. It's hard to tell since apparently from what you've gathered there was another (y/n). One who looked just like you, acted just like you, and was essentially you in every microscopic aspect. At least that's what Miguel says, and you've come to learn that he's not awfully good at telling the full truth.

She died or was killed. As is customary with every hero's first crush. Thus leaving Miguel without a lover or a prisoner. Depending on which iteration of the story you fancy.

Then Miles came along disrupting the canon and causing a dimension's wide spider hunt, with Miguel leading the charge. Somewhere along the lines, between chasing down Miles and barking orders at the other Superheroes his secret society was made of. He passes by your window. Caught a rogue glimpse and froze. He'd found you again, after all these years of believing that you were dead. Technically you were dead, his (y/n) was dead. But there was one here, another one, just as radiant and beautiful as his original lover had been. Miguel knew he had to have you. To take you back to his dimension. To complete his Canon.

Your dimension was doomed anyway.

So he wasn't really doing any harm.

You shuffle uncomfortably on the couch, attempting to readjust your position as to better gaze out the window at the porcelain city.

It's almost homogeneous to Miguel himself.

A perfect city with no room for cracks or mistakes.

A perfect hero who flawlessly preserves the multiverse.

They're both perfect you think as you steal your gaze from the skyline. Although sometimes perfect and pristine aren't always reflective of a person's inner workings. Miguel isn't exactly corrupted but he's far from innocent either. You - and the motley amount of fang marks spread across your body- are living proof of that.

His apartment is clean, spotless, all ceramic tiles and snowy furniture.

No room for faults or fallacy. His whole life is meant to be errorless. Just like the delicate spider-verse, he's all so keen on protecting.

The door chimes, a light buzz and a thud. It's hard to remember that this is technically the future. That trivial things such as keys and locks have long since been eradicated.

Miguel steps in, a bouquet of red and yellow roses grasped within his hand. He walks in as the door buzzes closed behind him. There's a docile look in his eyes as he spots you sitting on the couch. A repeated memory you realize and you wonder if his (y/n) use to wait for him to get back from Spider HQ, all patient and passive like a pretty doll awaiting her master.

"Para vos, mi querida" he mumbles, somehow apathetic and bashful all at the same time.

You reach for the flowers a practiced smile bearly tugging at your lips, your fingers curling around the bouquet, then you freeze eyes going wide.

There's blood on his claws again, pristine rudy red that drips to an invisible tempo. You wonder who he's killed this time. A canon divergent Spider-Man or Spider-Women. A villain running amuck across the city.

Or some regular civilian he was supposed to protect. A regular civilian who had some interaction with you on one of the rare times Miguel actually agreed to take you out. You wonder but you don't date ask.

His suit is unscratched -as it always is- His face is bruise-less, so it makes you think that your final hypothesis may just be the accurate one. Miguel's eyes narrow when notices your frozen hand.

"What's wrong," he asks a gruff edge in his voice, a warning.

One your mind begs you to obey.

"Who did you kill?" You ask eyes concentrated on the sharp blue razors that make him look more monster than superhero. Your fingers abandon the bouquet's base and return to your side. You try to force your eyes into a glare despite the unruly beating of your fearful heart.

One look from Miguel snuffs all that resistance out. One dark glare from eyes that can't choose if they wish to be red or blue. Human or hero. Human or monster. And you're back to cowering into the couch cushions.

"It doesn't matter" he all but barks, a supernatural chill encompasses the room. As he throws the bouquet down onto the ceramic floor. His lips pull back in a snarl, showcasing milky white fangs that gleam in the low lights.

"It does matter Miguel!" Your voice is raising, itching to scream to yell. To make him understand a fraction of your hatred

"You're supposed to be a hero, a savior, but all you ever do is act like a villain. You stole me from my home, you killed my universe's Spider-man, you destroyed my dimension! You're nothing more than a villain wearing a hero's mask."

There's a punchline to this, you're almost sure of it. Some storybook explanation as to why you decided to lash out at the most terrifying creature you've ever met. Maybe in the heat of the frigid moment, you forgot that he's no mere spider. He's a tarantula, bloodthirsty and savage, ready to attack when someone goes poking at him with a stick.

Miguel's fingers tighten around your throat, sharp claws digging into soft skin and delicate muscles. Pushing you further into the couch. Miguel's ears ring with the symphony of your gagging as he tightens his grasp. He thinks you're choking, suffocating, asphyxiating.

Good. With any luck, you'll be dead soon.

"Mocosa ingrata"

He's not sure if your death will be significant in any way. You're honestly too trivial to have any impact on things. If you hold a place in the canon of his timeline or yours, he's yet to find it.

Miguel hates oddities, things that disrupt the canon, selfish missteps that destroy entire dimensions. You're not quite an oddity per se, although everything in your timeline is broken. Dangling from a loose threat at the edge of a cliff. All because Miles Morales decided to be selfish and greedy and "change" what's been canon for longer than any "Spider-man" has been alive. Miles is a mistake. that whole universe is a mistake. It's bound to collapse on itself at any moment. So for the life of him, Miguel can't understand why you're so ungrateful. So desperate to reprimand him and belittle him when all he's doing is trying to save everyone.

He's failed once,

He's failed twice,

He refuses to fail for a third time.

It doesn't matter that you're some helpless civilian who was stuck in the wrong universe at the wrong time. All that matters is that you're (y/n), his (y/n). Every other Spiderman has their Gwen or their MJ. A dutiful lover, to return to when the night ends, when the fighting ends. When the ignorant sun finally decides to reawaken and cast the city in a temporary ray of peacefulness. Someone to love and cherish, to take their minds off of the dread and misery that runs amuck across their lives.

Peter Parker has his Mary Jane.

Miles Morales had his Gwen Stacy.

So why can't Miguel O'Hara have his (Y/n) (L/n)?

When Miguel looks back down at you, he notices your dark eyes. How the life is slowly fading from your body. He relents, pulling you forward and slamming you into the couch one last time before retracting his hand. He sits down next to your coughing body.

"I hate you" you manage to blurt out between desperate heaves. Trying to fill your lungs with as much oxygen as possible. You don't bother looking at him, you know he's mad. He's always mad when you refuse to act like his (y/n). When you poke holes at the perfect illusion he's created.

There's a brief pause. A second of tranquility. Before Miguel grabs your arm and pulls you onto his lap. His mouth parts. Fangs releasing and hovering above your jugular. His fangs pierce your vain, releasing his poison into your bloodstream. It's not lethal, at least not yet. Miguel prefers to think of it as a sedative for when you start to act up.

It soothes you, calms you into remembering your place. Your head lulls to the side, falling on his shoulder as your groggy eyes look up at him with a stare that he can almost trick himself into believing is loving, or some variant of the same emotion.

You're his, he knows that. You have to be. It's all he can tell himself as to stay sane. You'll understand someday. Realize you love him too.

After all every hero needs a lover.

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 1 year

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I've seen "Danny is Dick Graysons clone/son", "Dick Grayson is over sexualized by people in the comics", "Dick Grayson is protective of Bruce Wayne when it comes to romance" and "Danny is just as farel if not moreso than Dick"

But I haven't seen them combined yet.

Let's fix that >:)

----

Dick was a bit antsy. Someone had been putting his rogues and allies in the critical care units for the past two weeks and hes no closer to figuring out who it is or what thier motivations are.

He didn't want to ask his family for help since they were all busy with cases themselves. Apparently Gotham had its own new rogue that was giving them trouble. Figures. Well, thats fine, he could always be up for seeing Kori again-

Kgnk

The sound of an empty soda can falling out of a trash bin behind him had him whirling around, locking his eyes with that of a startled child.

A child who was stick thin. Walking the streets at night. Alone. Following him around quietly.

Well, at least this one didn't have a camera.

"Hey, kiddo. Who are you?" He asked as he approached slowly, body purposely relaxed as to not scare the child into bolting.

"Danny." The kid just stared at him as if lost in thought. Huh. It's not the typical little kid reaction Nightwing normally gets and it kinda stings his ego. "Okay Danny," Nightwing says softly as he enters grabbing distance, "Were are your mommy and daddy? Do you know you shouldn't be out this late?"

"I don't have a mommy," the kid replies, "But I followed my daddy here!"

Dick looked around, his bad feeling growing worse as he saw no one else but him. "Where's your daddy?"

Danny pointed at him.

"What?! How??!"

"Clone."

Dick stared at him. Yep. That would do it.

-----

Danny was a little terror. Dick and his family had discovered the connection between all of the people that were attacked. They had all harmed Dick or his family at some point...or, to his shock, hit on them.

The bats had thought little of bringing him to the Watchtower after five heroes were assigned to watch him so he didn't get into anything or in case this was a trap set up by someone.

Nightwing wasn't even gone more than 20 minutes but when he had returned, Kon was tied up with an apple stuck in his mouth as he inched across the floor and away from the pile of kryptonite was was currently on fire (How?! Where did he even-) with what looked like one of those rotisserie things over it big enough for Kon to be on.

Bart was on the floor with what looked liked cookies around him. Was he drugged?

Cassie was face down on the couch looking like she had been thrown there like a rag doll.

Superman himself was standing perfectly still and staring blankly at the wall, clearly in some sort of trance.

Finally his Baby Bird, Tim, was sitting in a recliner with Danny curled into his side. Danny listened with rapt attention as Tim told him the story of one of his adventures.

Dick thought this was karma for how he had acted as a kid. But first, he had to go rescue Red Robin who was giving him pleading looks every few seconds.

#dp x dc #fanfiction prompts #prompts #clone danny #dick grayson #dad dick grayson #danny fenton #danny grayson #is a little terror #everyone is like: i can handle him BUT THEY COULD NOT #bart got drugged #tw: drugged food #its 3 am when i wrote this and i just woke up so if you see a mistake no you didnt

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laxxarian · 2 months

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Mr. Lancer actually owns a school in Gotham back in the years but due to the crime rate, he moved to Amity Park. Still a teacher in a humble school.

He just really likes to teach his students, if he were a ghost, teaching is his obsession.

And like his life depended on it to a point where he actually created a half-assed sympathetic backstory of him crossdressing as a woman but dubbed it as his sister.

And it works like a charm, no one found out, not even Danny so when he heard a request from Danny that there's a person out there who always wanted to go to college and see if Lancer could get that person admitted, Lancer agreed.

The person in question was Jason Todd.

He recognize the man.

Lancer wasn't fooled by the "Oh, my names Peter Jay." act. He's been fooled once, he doesn't wanna be fooled twice.

But, Lancer knows to pretend, fine, anything for his new student to learn comfortably in his school then shall so be it.

Jason moves to Amity Park since it's more peaceful, Danny even suggests the move so that Jason doesn't have to worry about attacks everyday.

)-(

Jason and Danny only know their civilian identities, not the hero versions of themselves so when Jason sees Danny always somehow getting beaten up and wrecked more often than not, he starts to get worried.

Jason doesn't know about ghosts and Phantom so when he sees them in action, he itched to fight but Mr. Lancer told Jason not to worry since they were only playing and that was how ghosts tend to communicate.

Jason was told of the history between the ghosts and Amity Park and the hero.

Jason noticed that everyone here doesn't seem to do any crime, the opposite of Gotham. Even the past rogues are now redeemed and this play fighting was safely done to the sky where no one gets hurt, and when they do crash, the ghosts help to fix it or go intangible not to destroy everything.

#danny phantom #crossover #dpxdc #danny fenton #lancer #jason todd

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spacedace · 1 year

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Girl scout cookie season has to be fucking hell in Gotham

Like, okay so I don't actually know anything about girl scouts, but it has to be intense right? Every girl scout in the city has to know that Bruce Wayne is a soft touch and will buy out your entire stock if you just look at him with even a hint of a sad frown. Which means outside of Wayne Enterprises and Wayne Manor is prime real estate, the kind of hot spots that scouts and their parents are willing to go to war for. Like, full on street brawls breaking out between these little girls and their rival troops over common Bruce Wayne locations.

And it's *Gotham* so you know there are like, Gotham Specific badges for things like "Improvised Weaponry" and "Urban War Tactics" I bet there are badges for helping people during Rogue attacks, with like a badge for each specific Rogue and a badge you get if you've earned all the others.

Just. Gotham Girl Scouts have to be scarier than any Marine, and are probably on so many watch lists, both ad potential heroes and villains.

#batman #gotham #gotham girl scouts #can you tell i'm tired and need to go to bed?#lol i know nothing about girl scouts #but i do know in my heart of hearts that Alfred is losing the war against keeping the amount of girl scout cookies the family orders down #to any kind of reasonable level #like he just has to send all these fucking PALLETS of girl scout cookies to various Justice League members #because there is no possible way for them to eat all of these #JUST BUY A COUPLE BRUCE YOU DON'T NEED TO BUY THEIR ENTIRE STOCK #YOU DONATE MILLIONS TO EVERY TROOP IN THE CITY EVERY YEAR THEY ARE DOING FINE

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brucewaynehater101 · 10 days

Note

Just read a fic about Tim finally getting post patrol ice cream and his own renovated room after admitting to never getting any unlike his siblings and now I'm imagining an AU

Imagine this, Tim is tired, pulling an all nighter, because he did too poor a job at pretending as Robin, and it's too late to do damage control. Not in front of villains or heroes alike

But the people

They've caught onto how the third robin receives less than the first two

Robin acts less like a child, less like a son to Batman, and more like a 'Business Partner's as he said with his own words. Like a handler

Robin who has to put work into keeping Batman from overexerting himself, from cruelly punishing those who fall victim to him

Robin who receives less praise or care from Batman and cares for both himself and his "Boss" as he said with his own words

And it gets worse after the mantle passes down to Stephanie and Damian because the people notices how even as Batman treats them better than the third, now rebranded as Red Robin—

—Red Robin is still as much a Business Partner to batman as he always has been since the Dark Knight's loss of his second bird

And as much as tries to keep things buried, word is spreading that Red Robin is black sheep of the batfamily, and he won't be able to hide it for much longer

Have fun with this idea lol

I know the fic you're talking about! "with the exception of..." by DSS1101. That's a good one!

"Home Decor" by sElkieNight60 is about Duke remodeling his room as part of the new Wayne member tradition. This brings up feelings in Tim cause his bedroom still looks like a barely used guestroom.

The concept you've mentioned gives similar vibes to a hc/au post I read about how JJ (Joker Junior) isn't known by anyone but the goons/Rogues, Barbara, Jim, and Bruce. All the other Bats don't know. In consideration of Tim, electric shock weapons are immediately put away when Red Robin arrives on scene (I love that idea so much).

I think, with the Gothamites around when Bruce was going on his grief spiral almost killing spree, people feel a kinship with Tim. They couldn't have stopped Batman and, with part guilt and part relief, it seems only a child could. They watch this child, who seems to be sacrificing everything for a brutal and cruel man, and how he pulls Batman back into the symbol he's supposed to be. It brings out the protective and parental instinct of a lot of people.

This cues civilians, goons, and rogues alike trying to assist Robin in small ways. Tim as Robin had people offering him food (in sealed containers), giving him compliments, handing him scarves or hats (how could Batman let a child out in this weather without a hat?!?!?), and more. They tried to give him small moments to be the child he was pretending he wasn't. He obviously wasn't getting decent parenting at home if Batman was just his boss and his real folks were letting him out to fight.

There's a kind of guilty gratefulness towards the third Robin and a protectiveness of him. All young Bats are treated with care by civilains and some goons, but Robin three was special. He willingly became the barrier between Batman and Gotham. A lot of folks owe their ability to work (and not have exorbiant medical debt and medical conditions) to Tim. He saved them by damning himself. He needed the support Batman obviously wasn't providing.

Tim, as intelligent as he is, doesn't realize the affect he has on Gotham's older population. The younger ones will react with slightly more respect towards him than the other Bats, but they weren't around to see what Tim's sacrifice did for everyone.

Tim, with his self-doubt and hero-worship of his predecessors, thought his treatment throughout Robin was the work of those who came before him. Of course Gothamites trust and help out Robin when Dick and Jason built that foundation.

He's not exactly wrong, but it isn't to the extent they actually do for Tim.

Unfortunately for Tim, Damian and Jason do know that his Robin was treated with such reverence. They don't know why, but their Robins did/do not get treated that way. They chalk it up to Tim being the "perfect" and "can do no wrong" Robin. It's one point of contention they are unable to clear up due to Tim not knowing about it and the other two not wanting to explain their jealousy.

Steph was not treated as well as Damian and Jason when she was Robin. She, in this AU, was not treated as much of a crutch as Tim is. Despite that, her Spoiler/Batgirl/whatever persona gets some of the protectiveness that Tim's personas do. Bruce was more healed with Steph, but he was still an ass. That was obvious to any Gothamite watching.

Steph, because she was around at the time and talks with Gothamites to know what rumors are floating around, becomes aware after her death of why Tim's Robin is held up with such respect. This allows, unknowingly to Tim, for them to reach more understanding. With her knowledge of Tim's time as Robin, she's able to point out how he was being an ass, what he should've done instead, and that she herself was sorry for some of her actions.

When more and more individuals cue into Tim's black sheep position in the Batfam, this could go two ways.

One, Tim is targeted more due to his lack of support.

Two, Gothamites and Rogues increase their aid to Red Robin and become slightly cold to the Bats for their treatment of him.

#dc comics #dc universe #tim drake #thank you for the ask!!!!#it's my hc that Tim's robin went through hell #part of the reason tim is great at making friends (even with people who have hurt him) is because he's trying to build Bruce's support grou #steph brown #jason todd #damian wayne #bruce wayne

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flamingpudding · 6 months

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Fictober23 Prompt: 27 - "I don't know if they will accept this."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

A/N: Started writing this yesterday and finished it during lunch break today. So I decided to take a break tomorrow and post this early :D

Danny nervously poked his scrambled eggs as he sunk just a little lower in his chair. His eyes flicked back and forth between all of his new siblings that were currently in a heated discussion not noticing his slow withdrawal from the discussion and acting like he really didn't want to get noticed by them.

"Have you seen Mister Freeze's new sidekick? The white haired one that's probably a Meta with ice powers?"

"You mean Wraith?"

"Wait, I thought the kid was Ivy's sidekick? He helped blow up a facility last week!"

"No, no, no, no! Isn't he with Scarecrow?! I am sure he accidentally screwed up with the Fear Gas ten days ago so no one go harmed! But Scarecrow screamed at him that being new to the job wasn't an excuse."

"Didn't he help Catwoman steal two artifacts a couple days ago? One of them wasn't cat themed though I am pretty sure he was with her that time…"

"Wasn't he also the kid that was with Joker the last time he broke out? You know the white haired kid that was forced to assist him and tripped him right into his own trap and made the whole arrest a lot easier and quicker than usually?"

"It's like the kid switches who's sidekick he is every week…"

"Maybe he is interning with villains before breaking off to do his own thing? We better keep an eye on him."

Danny sank just a little bit lower in his chair and avoided looking at Alfred. Of course Danny knew about his new family's night time jobs, well day time in Duke's case, but when they had asked him if he wanted to take part in it he had declined. They didn't know about his second form, they only thought of him as a Meta with ghost powers that just escaped a horrible situation and now wanted a quiet and somewhat normal life. So they had accepted his decline in going into hero work, especially Alfred and Bruce appeared to be most relieved and happy about that decision at first.

But what Danny hadn't told them was that he might have declined going back into hero work, that didn't mean he would stay completely out of that side of his new family's life. The half ghost hadn't planned on it but it had all started with him accidentally coming across Poison Ivy. She reminded him of Sam in her values, so before his brain was able to catch up Danny asked if she wanted help blowing a facility that was pumping toxic waste into the water. Years of helping Sam with organizing activist protests did that to his brain.

One thing led to another and somehow Danny found himself more often than he liked in his phantom form acting as a sidekick or assistant to the rogues this family was fighting. In a way Danny felt like he was now more of an anti-hero than a hero, still fulfilling his obsession of protecting by finding creative ways to foil the rogues' plans if they get too dangerous or murderous but not really doing the whole righteous hero stick either.

Plus by working with Mister Freeze and Scarecrow at times he also gets to fully live out the mad scientist side of his brain. With them especially he gets to create whatever his weird wired brain could come up with, though, he did 'accidentally' leave behind USBs or papers with his inventions for Tim to find at the crime scenes.

What his new brother did with them was none of his business. If the Bats and Birds suddenly had new equipment in their arsenal that looked eerily similar to his inventions than that was that.

The problem was… his new family probably wouldn't like or accept that kind of turn of events. They were righteous and defenders of justice with moral codes and standards, Danny wasn't sure he could fulfill at the moment. Watching his new siblings arguing back and forth about Wraith, his new anti-hero alias Selina, Harley and Ivy had come up with, made his stomach sink every morning. In fact Danny was getting more and more scared with the passing days that his new family would kick him out the moment they learned about it just like his former parents had done.

He wished he had Jazz's contact to talk this over with her, but because of his situation Bruce found it better to wait a little longer before he could safely reach out to her. Maybe he could ask if Harley could talk with him instead.

A cup of tea was placed before him and Danny's head snapped up (when had he started to look down?) to find Alfred smiling calmly at him. "Master Daniel, I believe a nice cup of tea will help calm down your nerves."

"Thanks." Danny mumbled his hands cupping the cup and letting the warmth of it seep over his hands into his arms to comfort his nerves. He took a sip, eyes going wide for a moment before he looked over to Alfred who was currently taking away Tim's third cup of unfinished coffee while the other was distracted with the ongoing discussion. The old man gave him a knowing smile and Danny couldn't help the small grateful one that formed on its own, though he also couldn't help the slight feeling that Alfred knew what was frazzling Danny's nerves so much.

"Jason, maybe you can get into contact with Wraith?"

"Why the fuck should I?"

"You have a different reputation than us as Red Hood. He might be more willing to talk with you, to figure out his motives and such."

Danny choked on his tea, hurriedly placing the cup back on the table before pounding his own chest in a desperate attempt to get any tea that went down the airpipe out.

"Danny! Are you okay?" Dick was instantly on him, worried older brother vibes and all that.

He wheezed before breathing in relief once he stopped coughing, giving the oldest a barely hearable "I'm fine."

"<tt> Try not to die stupidly like this, Fenton." Damian clicked his tongue and Danny gave him a toothy grin.

"I am already half dead." He heard Jason snort. While the family thought Danny was just a Meta with ghost-like powers. Danny had explained his accident to them and how he died and revived with powers through it when they asked him why he was insisting through jokes that he was half dead. Jason and Dick were the only ones who really enjoyed his death related jokes and puns, the others were more worried about his mental state.

"Leave the death jokes to Todd, Fenton."

"Oh come on, don't ghost me like that! My jokes are just as much to die for then his are!"

"Fenton."

Danny just laughed, while the previous discussion made him fear for the future, he still loved the family he had gotten added into by sheer luck. He had come to quickly love them all and felt like his own weirdness fit perfectly into theirs. It truly made him hope that he could stay with them for a long time and maybe even add Jazz into the picture as well once his whole situation was more secured and Bruce would allow him to contact her and his friends.

Later that day Danny was in the library reading a book on Molecular Structure of the human biology and how it can mutate depending on external influence, as a preparation for his next endeavor as Wraith with Killer Croc, when he felt tapping on his shoulder.

Turning his head slightly Danny startled finding Cassandra in his personal space sitting next to him with a mirthful smile. She gave him a small wave as a greeting before sitting back a little, apparently satisfied with the fact that she sort of scared him there a little.

"Hey Cass." He smiled, putting one of the many bookmarks, Jason had distributed and stored away everywhere in an effort to stop his siblings from creating dog ears in books, on the page he was on before closing the book in his hands.

"You worry too much, relax." She signed with a reassuring smile once Danny had turned his full attention on her. Confused, the half ghost on the other hand tilted his head, puzzled about what Cass was going on about. He did feel rather relaxed right now.

"You being Wraith." Wide eyed Danny hurried to cover Cassandra's hands, like one would cover another's mouth if they blurred out a secret. His eyes hurriedly darted around in their surroundings but aside from the shelves filled with books Danny couldn't see nor sense anyone that might listen in on them.

Cass was shaking in silent laughter as Danny nervously turned back to look at her. "How…"

Slowly she freed her hands from his and patted them comfortingly before beginning to sign again, smiling knowingly. "I saw. Your body language is the same."

"I…" How was he going to explain this? He had gotten found out, was Cass going to tell him to leave now? Was this the end of his new found family life? It came sooner than he anticipated. Blankly he stared at his hands that uselessly lay in his lap on the book cover, one hand slowly moving to nervously trace unseen patterns on the books spine.

Danny did not see how Cass frowned at that action, all mirth gone from her smiles. She did not like her brother was drawing into himself, doubt and fear started to radiate from his body language and Cassander didn't like that even more. She moved a little closer, so that she would have an easier time to reach Danny and poked his cheek mercilessly until her little brother looked back up at her.

"No need to explain." She actually spoke instead of sign just to show Danny how serious she was. "It's fine. Funny even. Like Selina."

"But…" A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed, trying to find the right words. Cass waited patiently for him. "Mom and Dad… my former parents… they didn't accept me as a ghost hero…"

Cassandra nodded but didn't sign nor say anything, seeing that there was more her newest little brother wanted to say but still trying to find the right words for. It was something she could relate to. Unable to find the right words, hadn't she been through that before too. She lay a comforting hand down on Danny's shoulder, once more waiting patiently.

"I… I don't know if they will accept this… this turn of events. Especially in this family. You all are taking the Hero route and I…" Danny swallowed once more. "I can stop, I can change. I just don't… I don't want to lose another family…"

Before Danny knew what was happening he was enveloped in a warm hug, he blinked several times before realizing that Cass was hugging him tightly. He was held like this for a while before she drew back from him, poking him once more to make him look at her once more.

"No need. Don't stop." She spoke her voice, soft and smoothing while smiling at him brightly.

"But…" She shook her head, silencing whatever Danny wanted to say before giving him a mischievous smile, her hands letting go of his shoulder so sign her next words. "You are not hurting anyone, you keep them from killing, from being too dangerous to civilians, not really breaking any big laws. You help us in your own law breaking way. Like Jason does."

"I am not as good as him…" Danny mumbled still unsure but Cass only smiled fondly ruffling her little brother's hair.

"You started to smile more since you became Wraith." She flat out told him, causing Danny to look up at her stunned and she laughed silently. "Keep going. If you go too far, I will be there to pull you back."

"You're like Jazz…" Danny mumbled, finally with a little smile on his face and Cass returned it with a satisfying one of her own before pulling him in for another hug, he returned this time.

That night, Orphan watched happily how her little brother laughed carefree and freer than he had in a month sitting on Killer Croc shoulders, testing out his newest invention while the rogue was trying to get him off, unsuccessfully so far. Her other brothers surrounded the two and tried to figure out what was going on since Wraith was supposed to be their rogues gallery sidekick and not challenge them like that.

She laughed even when suddenly out of nowhere a USB-Stick hit Red Robin in the face. Obviously she had caught Wraith flinging it in his direction, but she was not about to tell them that. Orphan would let them figure that out on their own, meanwhile she was going to enjoy watching her newest little brother smile and laugh while being the chaos gremlin she had seen in him from day one as he was messing with the rogues as well as vigilantes / heroes of Gotham.

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satyricplotter · 5 days

Text

pairing: dick grayson x reader

word count: 3.2k (i think?)

warnings: rape mention (as per dick's canon)

notes: i keep thinking of applying one of my favourite manga/manhwa tropes with dick specifically, because it works so well, but i don't particularly care to put in the work of setting up that it'd take for it to land as well as it could. maybe later. as it is, i'll give you the quick rundown because i spent two days writing it lol

something ugly about you has made you undeserving of romance. you have spent your entire life puzzling out what it is and how to fix it. nothing much is special about you: the matter’s far from isolation, or becoming any particular sort of pariah. perhaps that'd be easier to explain. no. people leave you alone, your friends cherish you, your family loves you. it is not that you have not known affection, but that you have and so when you crash against the wall that horrible first time, it hurts all the more.

nothing changes after that. there is always a limit to where your interest can reach, unnamed but palpable. a line you cannot cross. it seems to you as if the entire world has reached a silent consensus during a meeting to which your attendance was not required and your input unnecessary. why would it be? this is not about you. after all, your ability to love has not become impaired. you like people. you’ve fallen in love. but who has ever loved you back?

this one facet of life has been closed off to you entirely, and you’ve been chased away from all attempts to form a romantic bond with unspoken threats of shame and implications of disgust. (a bit much of a display just for the offense of being little old you. you come to regard the matter so as you grow older and start curating some self-respect. it still stings as badly as scrubbing your skin raw under hot water, but not all the loathing is directed inward nowadays.)

regardless, you’ve learnt that you are undesirable, and nothing you can say or do will change that. you must be content with the other shapes that love can take. nothing that you want matters whatsoever.

you meet dick grayson one summer evening under exceedingly normal circumstances. you do not know about heroes or rogues, no batmans or nightwings. the person that crosses the threshold is none other than dick grayson, the handsome young man. suspicion does not cross anybody’s mind, and if it does, it comes only a good couple of thoughts after his darling smile and shapely thighs.

obviously you like him immediately. what’s not to like? he’s gorgeous.

you react to him with the tense wariness of someone hardened by years of useless crushes. trying to avoid him. trying to be normal when you invariably cannot. it’s fine. it’ll be fine.

you still crush on him.

it’s inevitable, at this point. he’s too pretty, too smart, too kind not to draw you in. every interaction comes a rush of exhilarating fear. at times, you manage to subdue yourself into normalcy, hang out with him with as much naturalness as you can muster. but then he does something particularly attractive and you’re back in square one, shoulders drawn together and so short with him he probably gets emotional whiplash. it’s as exhausting for you as it must be for him, and he still reacts to it with grace. it doesn’t help.

through your concerted efforts to be normal, or at least appear as much, you and dick become friends. not great friends, mind you, but good enough that you start hanging out on your own without any of your mutual friends present. and you only spend about three hours total pondering the meaning behind the phrasing of his texts. that’s gotta be some form of progress, right?

he sits at a little table away from the window, and beams when you arrive. coffee’s on him and conversation’s on you. you’ve got more in common than you first thought, but you go back and forth between imagining it must be fate and squashing down delusion, telling yourself you’re blowing it out of proportion.

at one point in time, a beautiful, sultry-looking woman approaches the table.

this sucks, you think, glancing away from dick’s bland mask of politeness. all of it is hopeless and it still sucks.

you and dick tense immediately, like you both know what’s coming. sure as ever, the woman smiles and asks for his number. you look away politely, sip at your drink. the proximity makes it useless to pretend you’re not eavesdropping (though it can hardly be called that when she came to your table), but you take care not to make any faces that’d give away the little storm brewing in your stomach.

you think about running off to the bathroom, get as far as shifting on your seat when dick shoots you a troubled look. the woman’s been at it for a little more than is appropriate. a minute or so more of insistence and she’ll be stretching the boundaries of her own dignity too far. you look away with pressed lips and move your hands under the table.

your alarm beeps.

“oh, shit, dude,” you gasp, hoping to land somewhere in the ballpark of realism. “It’s almost seven. we’ve got to go, or else we’re gonna miss the movie.”

dick gives the woman his apologies and swiftly runs out of the café with you hot on his heels. on the way to the movie theatre, you wanna ask the million questions running through your head—why’d he reject her? didn’t he like her? did he not think she was pretty? who is pretty for him? what’s his taste in partners? is he seeing someone?—but you know it’s a futile endeavor. what will you even get out of that? it’s clear dick didn’t enjoy the interaction either. you make small talk about something else, trying to draw his attention away from whatever conflicted feelings he’s moored in right now. just because you like him doesn’t mean you can’t be a good friend to him.

it’s a short walk. soon enough, he’s all smiles again. in the line for the popcorn stand, another two girls come up to him, this time much younger than you two. he’s nicer with them than he was before, but he rejects them all unequivocally.

“doesn’t it annoy you?” you can’t help but ask. when dick raises an elegant eyebrow, you panic and backpedal so hard you might as well have driven a truck through a storefront.

“a bit,” dick says, ignoring your rambling. you shut your mouth firmly closed when he gives you a sidelong glance, and continues, so very casually, “it’s worse when it comes from a friend rather than a stranger. so many people just try to befriend me because they’re looking for a relationship, or they want access to my body. it’s… tiring. i’m sure you can relate.”

“ah,” you say. your tongue feels numb, but you’re burning up under the weight of his gaze. “no. I don’t really get harassed like that or, um, asked out.”

“huh.” dick blinks. “really?”

“yeah,” you force out. blessedly, the attendant calls your attention. you jostle dick forward. “look, it’s our turn.”

dick orders popcorn. you get a large slushy that you’re not gonna finish. you make him pay. he complies with no question. inside the theatre, you spend all two hours and sixteen minutes of the showing in absolute silence. it is not so strange to be fixated on the movie, but you’re usually a little more chatty. under normal circumstances, you’d eagerly take the opportunity to lean closer to him, whisper something about the main character’s penchant for gummies and its relation to the degradation of the American working class. he’d glance at you and thoughtfully smile, and you’d catch a whiff of his cologne when you straightened. for the rest of the movie, the twinkle of his eye as he forwent the film for your conversation would be all you’d think about.

such is not the case now.

you can tell when you’ve been summarily dismissed. in fact, you appreciate when people are subtle about their rejections. it’s always all the more humiliating when they feel the need to bring it out into the open, like your affections have been so blatant they must be commented on, debated.

the rest of the evening is spent convincing yourself that this is good, that this means it’ll be better for yourself going forward. you’ll be less distracted, if anything. dick’s attempts to discuss the movie with you afterwards fall flat, as the only thing you really want is to get home and stare at your ceiling.

when you’ve reached your apartment door, and are turning to enter after a hurried goodbye, dick calls your name.

“look,” he says, running a hand through his hair unsurely. “I don’t usually do this.”

oh, no. dread fills you up. he’s breaking up with you and you’re not even dating.

you swallow. “dick—”

“I like you a lot,” he interrupts. your teeth clang the way you shut up so fast. in fact, you feel a little dizzy. he continues before you can even process that first sentence. “I think you and I could be really good friends, and I’d love if we could continue seeing each other to, you know, hang out and talk. I do truly appreciate your insight. is that okay?”

you blink fast some three or four times. it must be comical, the face you’re making, because the corner of dick’s lips pulls upward despite him trying to keep a serious air.

“I thought we were already friends…?” you say, at a loss for anything else to say.

“yes!” he beams. “we are.”

“okay,” you respond, perplexed. this is so far out of left field. “um. text me when you’re home?”

“yeah.” he grins. gorgeous grin, to be sure, but why? “for sure.”

“cool.” you give him an awkward thumbs up and scurry inside.

it is… baffling. you spend all of that night wide awake and pondering. dick must’ve misconstrued something, or either you missed a crucial step in your relationship. otherwise the end to that evening makes absolutely no sense. the only thing you can conjure up is that dick must reject a lot of people who, like he said, try to befriend him only to get with him or worse, only to fuck, and it’s not very likely most of those people stay in his life once it is clear he won’t budge on the matter. the fact that you didn’t immediately turn your back on him must’ve come to him as a pleasant surprise.

it’s sad. like, really fucking sad, actually.

that very sadness—and the memory of his handsome, bright grin—turns your outlook inside out. why do you like dick? clearly he’s got the looks and the personality, but do you really know him? what do you know of him? you make a list of things you’ve learned about him in the short time of knowing him. it’s not long.

you come to the conclusion, mortifyingly so, that you don’t, in fact, like dick grayson. that, if anything, the only thing you like is the idea of the boyfriend he could be, which is not the boyfriend that he is (you know nothing about that). it’s the social acumen inherent in bagging such a hottie, and the sparkling sexual attraction bound around it, that really prompt your crushing. it’s not dick as a person. frankly, you think, a little hysterically, could be anyone, really. didn’t even have to be dick. he was just there, the handsomest person in the room. an apt target for the voracious hunger of your heart. you’d mooned and mooned over him for ages and it turns out it wasn’t even about him.

god, you’re such an asshole.

in penance, you endeavor to actually get to know dick without the embarrassment of a crush between you. and it does, in fact, help. dick’s eager to get to know you too, now that you’ve both formally acknowledged you’re friends (such a weird practice, fresh out of kindergarten behavior, but, as you soon find out, dick is weird about plenty and not entirely well-adjusted as an adult). you go on outings together, attend one another’s events, text sporadically throughout the day. you learn which video games dick likes, you tell him which movies are your favorites. it’s fun and light and uncomplicated now that you’ve freed yourself from the constraints of romantic expectation.

not everything’s good. dick’s got bad habits, which grate on you. is it so difficult to put the stupid toilet seat down? can he not learn to chop vegetables in chunks smaller than an elephant’s baby teeth? can he, for the love of god, stop yelling at the tv during horror films? he’s got some serious character flaws, too. you find about those a lot more slowly, but they don’t cause too much trouble.

you fight one or two times due to dick suddenly abandoning you in the middle of an outing with no regard for your safety, and his tendency to get pissy instead of saying whatever’s upsetting him upfront when he knows, you’ve warned him that you’re stupidly thoughtless about your actions at times. all those are things you wouldn’t have come to experience if you hadn’t given the man a chance to actually be a friend. it’s kind of heartening, actually, to have come so far.

sometimes your crush rears up its head in the middle of nowhere. it’s kind of hopeless by now, but you can’t help the fact that dick’s attractive. neither can he, anyway. you just watch him sometimes, the way the sun hits his eyes, lashes sweeping over his cheeks. it makes you go tongue-tied and silly, but the moment always passes. it has to pass. you struggle against it, recall every time dick has upset you or insulted you in one way or the other. some days it’s easy as buttering toast, others you can barely think around the searing heat of your desire. those are bad days for all involved.

one evening, when you’ve grown close enough you’ve begun to think about dick grayson as maybe, possibly, only-if-he-says-so-too your closest friend, he tells you about catalina.

he does it over the phone line, during your almost-nightly calls. over the months, you’ve taken up the practice of teasing him about handsome people he clearly finds attractive in a desperate bid to divert attention and train yourself for when you have to do it for real. this is not one of such cases, and as soon as you realize this, you sober up immediately.

he says it so simply. talks about it like it’s just a hazard of life. there’s a tight hardness at the edge of his voice, but other than that, he speaks like it’s normal Tuesday for him.

not so much for you.

“is it okay if I come over?” you request over the line.

for a moment, the only thing you hear is dick breathe. “yeah,” he croaks, and you’re bolting out the room immediately.

you don’t know how to react to this other than with a shaky sort of desperation. it’s been years since it happened. there’s nothing you can do about it now. there’s something big he’s leaving out, which you notice but don’t point out. a big lump forms on your throat as he speaks. dick tells you when you arrive that the woman is behind bars for an unrelated crime and the only way you stop yourself from wishing ill on her out loud is the fact he looks so politely disjointed, you know your fury will only startle him.

and you feel it so frightfully, the fury.

you love dick, you realize. beyond the fancies and the underlying attraction, you love dick as a person, as a friend. he’s one of yours now.

the evening morphs into a casual sleepover. you don’t interrogate him, and he seems torn between wanting to say more and grateful you’re not prying. you keep yourself open to the possibility, but also try to comfort him as best you can. you make dinner. you put on a movie. you talk and joke and quietly watch. he invites you on the bed with him because his couch is a nightmare to sleep in and his guest room is “unavailable”, whatever that means. you don’t even think about it, just follow.

lying together under the sheets with the lights off, the rest of your feelings bubble up to the surface.

you ask before you clasp his hands between yours and look into his shiny eyes in the darkness. you try to tell him, how this single evening and all those that came before turned over your loyalty to him. how he can come to you for anything he ever wants or needs—your ear, your care, your protection. how much you appreciate his trust and how much you wish you could make anything, everything better for him. how much he deserves it.

“I’ll never leave you now,” you vow with fierce conviction, searching his eyes for any signs of doubt. any other time you would’ve questioned this statement with the sheer weight of infinite possibilities, but not now. tonight, truth is absolute and in your hand. “they will never take me from you. I will always be on your side, by your side. i’m serious, grayson. you’re not getting rid of me.”

a glimpse of a watery smile is the only thing you see before dick throws his arms around you and buries his face in your neck. “couldn’t dream of it,” he whispers into your hair.

you hug him back as tightly as he is, murmuring platitudes and running your fingers through his hair. he falls asleep like that, in the cradle of your arms. he feels secure enough to do so, and you feel both proud and nauseous about it considering the secret you keep.

that he’s told you this at all, that he’s trusted you with such a thing—you know how big it is. you know you can never betray him.

you consider your inherent monstrosity, that little unspeakable thing that bars your from that special kind of love. you understand, firmly, that any desire you feel will never be received eagerly and joyfully. not by him or anyone else. in silent fury, you vow to die before you be like her, to bestow upon this man your grotesque wanting with no regard for his own desire, for the integrity of his being.

that night, you press a kiss to dick grayson’s hair and let him go forever.

the next morning, dick watches as you leave. you turn back one last time to wave at him from the parking lot, a bright smile and tussled hair you didn’t bother to brush. you wear out the clothes he lent you to sleep, so harried last night in your haste to come over that you’d simply forgotten to pack pajamas. he suspects you hadn’t planned to stay the night at all, but he’d been damned if he’d let you go yesterday.

you’re pretty. he’s always thought so, but this morning, you’re prettier than ever. it’s the radiance of your heart shining through.

I will always be by your side, you’d said last night. you’d meant it completely, then. dick had been dazed, overcome. he couldn’t take the brightness of your eyes, the surety of your affection. he’d buried his head in your neck and fallen asleep breathing in the smell of your shampoo. in the morning, he’d woken up with your fingers carding through his hair and the gentle warmth of your body against his.

that was nice. he wonders what he has to do to make it happen again.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dc imagine #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #not that the night life features as anything other than a mention #anyway for those in the know.... this is the chundan 'i like you because you don't have expectations of me'/'im never gonna like ycy' scene #except set up a little differently given there's no isekai happening here #satplotdb

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