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ukit4m4 · 4 months

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★┆ello, ello, hi !! it's finally Friday !! just wanted to say that my requests / asks r open, and I'm willing to take any head canons / short fic requests !!!

#bi han #bi han x reader #sub zero #writing #bi han mk #tomas vrbada #liu kang x reader #fluff #bi han sub zero #johnny cage #plz gimme requests #starving writer #writer problem #mortal kombat fic #writerr

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lotus-flower-writes-history · 8 months

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The Unofficial Black History Book

Janet Collins (1917-2003)

The history of ballet began around the 1500s in Italy. The term "ballet" stems from the Italian word "Ballare," meaning to dance. When ballet was introduced to America in the early twentieth century, it was a new form of art. Unfortunately, African Americans couldn't be part of ballet culture for many years, saying that our bodies were wrong for ballet.

Until one woman broke one of the last major color barriers in classical ballet,

This is her story.

Janet Faye Collins became the first African American prima ballerina and one of the very few prominent black women in American classical ballet. And the first black prima ballerina to perform with the Metropolitan Opera Ballet in New York City, New York.

She broke one of the last major color barriers in Classical Ballet.

Janet Collins was born on March 2, 1917, in New Orleans, Louisiana. Her mother was a seamstress, and her father was a tailor. They moved to Los Angeles, California, in 1921, when she was four years old.

She started taking private dancing lessons at a Catholic community center, and ironically, Collin's parents urged her to study painting rather than dance. Because at that time, art seemed to offer more opportunities to gifted African Americans than classical dance.

Collins studied art on a scholarship at Los Angeles City College and later at the Los Angeles Art Center School.

But she continued her dance training and attracted the attention of Adolph Bohm, Carmelita Maracci, and Mia Slavenska. All prominent dance instructors agreed to work with her. She continued her dance training with Carmelita Maracci, who was one of the few dance teachers at the time to accept black students.

At the age of 15, Janet prepared to audition for Leonide Massine and the De Basil Ballet Russe Company. The company was performing in Los Angeles during its American tour and advertised for an aspiring young dancer to audition for the company.

When it was Janet's turn, she was one of the best to audition. She moved with such beauty and grace that all the other ballerinas applauded her.

Massine saw her talent and accepted her into the company. But only under one condition...

He told her she would have to paint her face white for performances.

Going further into my notes, she was told that she would either need "special roles" created for her or dance with a white face to disguise the fact that she was black.

Collins left the audition in tears and vowed to perfect her art so that race would not be an issue.

In an exchange quoted in U.S. News & World Report, she responded, "I thought talent mattered, not color."

Collins found a cold reception in professional ballet, despite her training. However, she didn't let that set her back, and she continued to perform.

In the 1930s, when she was still in her teenage years, she performed as an adagio dancer in vaudeville productions.

In 1940, she became the principal dancer for the Los Angeles musical productions of "Run Little Chillun" and "The Mikado in Swing". At this time, she worked with the Katherine Dunham Dance Company.

In 1943, she performed in the musical film "Stormy Weather," and in 1946, she appeared in the film, "Thrill of Brazil."

In 1949, Collins made her New York debut after performing her own choreography on a shared program at the 92nd Street NY. In the same year, and after two more performances, Dance Magazine named her "The most outstanding debutante of the season."

Collins made her debut as a prima ballerina on November 3rd, 1948, at the Las Palmas Theater in Los Angeles, and critics praised her as a one-of-a-kind performer.

Zachary Solov, the Metropolitan Opera House's ballet master, noticed her in a Broadway production of Cole Porter's "Out of this World" in 1951. Solov then invited Collins to join the Metropolitan Company when she was 34.

November 13th, 1951: Collins broke a color barrier after her performance of ‘Aida'. She was the first African American prima ballerina with the Metropolitan Opera after a year of joining the Corps de Ballet. It marked the first time a black artist had joined the permanent company.

Unfortunately, Collins faced racism on the road as the company toured southern cities, despite her success in New York.

She was kept off stage due to Race laws, and sometimes her parts were performed by understudies who were white.

She remained at the Met until 1954. She would then go on to tour across the United States and Canada. She then began teaching ballet, which included using dance in the rehabilitation of the handicapped.

She also taught at the School of American Ballet, the San Francisco Ballet School, and the Harkness House.

Janet retired from performing and teaching in 1974. She spent the last years of her life painting religious subjects in her studio in Seattle.

Janet Collins died on May 28th, 2003, in Fort Worth, Texas, at 86 years old.

Despite all that was thrown at her, Janet Collins made a legacy for herself by becoming the first African-American Prima ballerina with the Metropolitan Opera and breaking its color line.

The 16th Street Baptist Church Bombing

Juneteenth

___

My Resources

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creativepromptsforwriting · 5 months

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Touch Starved Prompts

It was strange to touch each other without one of them dying, but maybe touch was also something for the living.

Like magnets they moved together, pressing into each other's warmth.

There always needed to be a reason, an excuse for their bodies to touch.

Being touch-starved and needy was really starting to mess with their reputation as a tough guy.

It was like their skin was calling out for the other's gentle touch.

They didn't like to be touched by just anyone. But that didn't mean they didn't also crave it sometimes.

A coldness took over their body that only the warmth of another person could erase.

They wanted to be touched, to be missed, to be loved. Was that too much to ask for?

Leaning onto each other, just being close, was enough.

Their bodies fitting together like they always were intended to become one.

#writing prompts #writeblr #touch starved #writing #writers on tumblr #writing ideas #creative writing

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smolgirlbigdreams · 3 months

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HEY YOU, G/T WRITER!!!

Yeah, you! C'mere!

I've seen some talk in the community recently about writers not really getting the attention they deserve/not getting as many notes as artists (and no prob with artists! We love you artists ❤️). So I thought, why not call all the g/t writers together so we can support each other? Y'know, kinda get a little g/t writing sub-community going here on Tumblr if that makes sense!! The idea being that if we band together, it's harder to get lost in the heaps of short-form content that's out there. Plus, we can read each other's work and support each other! :D

Here's an idea:

Reblog with a little bit about you and your writing! (If you write anything that might make anyone uncomfortable please leave a warning as well.)

Link your awesome g/t stories!!!

Check out other awesome stories by other g/t authors and show them some love~

I'll start!

Hi! I'm Eliza and I've been writing since around 2016, although I was a bit too scared to post anything until I started working on my current story!

Right now I'm working on a book called Too Small To Be Afraid, about a human girl living on a distant planet who has a fear of the giant race, pertheans. Only, she has to learn how to share a desk with one at school!

But enough about me! I want to hear about you! I'm excited to hear about you all and see what you're writing!!! :D

#giant/tiny #g/t #g/t community #g/t writing community #g/t writers club #I am scared out of my mind to post this but I really wanted a resource like this to happen so I thought why not start one??#I've also been starved for g/t writing so I'm excited to see what y'all have done!!#ethegjjgejtwwtjjtw okay send post AAAAAAAA

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stormikitty · 6 months

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Cosmic Love prompt:

Danny and Damian have been engaged since they were babies. The Fentons wanted access to Lazarus water, and they made a deal with the league of assassins to get it. Danny is trans. Danny and Damian haven't seen each other since Damian was 10 (I imagine Danny is anywhere from a few months to a year younger, so Danny was either 9 or 10 at the time). They had been seeing each other twice a year the last time they saw each other. They used to have more time scheduled to spend together before Damian started training to be an assassin. They weren't getting along when they last saw each other. Danny was upset/angry that his life had been planned out for him and that he was going to be in an arranged marriage. Damian was kind of a jerk at the time (because of trauma but he was still a jerk), and he thought Danny was being a jerk too because having his whole life planned for him was all Damian knew and it didn't make sense to him to get upset about it because that's his reality that he just had to accept. Damian does care about Danny, and cares about what he wants too. But they were kids. They were upset about their situation and frustrated and angry with each other and their families. They haven't had contact with each other at all since Damian came to Gotham.

Skip forward a few years and Damian has fallen in love with his best friend, Jon. He tells his family and Jon about the arranged marriage even though it's likely not going to be a thing anymore since he has cut ties with the league.

Damian and Jon start dating.

Danny is 16 and on the run from his parents and the GIW. He only managed to escape after he had already been captured and vivisected. He goes to Gotham because it'll be harder for his parents and the GIW to find him there. He runs into Damian and Jon at a park while he's at a point in his life where he's got nothing left an he's just sad, scared, angry, lonely, and he'd just about sell what's left of his life for a hug.

#dp x dc #dc comics #danny phantom #dp x dc prompt #danny fenton #damian wayne #jonathan kent #cosmic love #cosmic love ship #danny/damian/jon #danny is touch starved in this and has been for basically his whole life #because his parents always made him think he was being annoying/getting in the way when he asked them for hugs #and damian thought affection was a sign of weakness/made him weak #damian was touch starved when he arrived in gotham too #but it's up to the writer how much better that's gotten.#trans danny fenton #bad fenton parents #i usually hate arranged marriage because it toes the line of what is and isn't consentual #but in this danny and damian are both mad about being engaged to each other #and they don't fall in love until after the wedding is basically not a thing that the league can force them to do anymore #damian is going to FLIP OUT when he finds out that danny is running from people who are arguably worse than the league #at least for someone in his situation #dami and jon are BOTH going to FLIP OOOUT when they find out about the anti-ecto-acts

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sunnynwanda · 2 days

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Heal me

Warnings: slightly suggestive/ kissing, touch starved Villain, sort of hurt/comfort.

Based on and inspired by this wonderful idea by the amazing @aflyingsheepnamedrose. I had to write this, it was simply eating me alive.

Villain's body hits the wall, sliding down onto the concrete floor with a loud thud. They groan, every limb of theirs aching with dull pain and acute yearning. They cough out blood but cannot stop themself from thinking about the gentle brush of Hero's fingertips against their skin that will follow once the 'battle' is over. They've been deprived of it for far longer than they could handle, their starved body longing for the pain to be followed by a touch.

Hero lands next to them, fisting their shirt to drag them into a standing position. Villain sags against the wall, heaving through every breath. Yet their injuries have positively nothing to do with the dire need flaming in their veins. It's severe, all-consuming, and it terrifies the living light out of them. Villain craves Hero's touch with the entirety of their being. Villain craves Hero.

"Think you should surrender?" Hero suggests, eyeing Villain with a hint of concern in their bright blue eyes. Their fingers feel almost tender when they curl around Villain's chin, lifting it up so their intent gaze can inspect their buttered face.

"Not yet," Villain gargles, blood filling their mouth again. They turn away, spitting it out before meeting Hero's eyes, a pleasant thrill feeling their lungs at the sight of Hero's distress.

"I won't..." Hero wants to say they won't keep up the vicious cycle they found themselves in. They won't fight Villain anymore - only to spend the following night healing them with their touch. Hero wants Villain to know that they can't keep hurting them, that it tears them apart in ways they never imagined possible, and that it is the reason they've been avoiding them. That they cannot handle witnessing - worse yet, inflicting - their pain. They want to say that Villain doesn't need injuries to have Hero showering them with kisses. They want to tell Villain they need them safe and sound, not beaten and buttered. Hero needs Villain.

But they don't say that. They can't. Instead, they threaten. "Surrender, or I won't heal you anymore."

Villain has to restrain themself from outright begging. They press their lips together, nodding shortly, and avert their eyes, gulping as their mind runs at a hundred miles a minute. Hero's hands let go of their shirt and Villain exhales shakily, shutting their eyes to suppress the shudder raking through their entire being. Something inside them quivers, helpless and desperate. Villain decides to call it disappointment, but then Hero's arms wrap around them, picking them off the ground with close to no effort.

Villain knows it's not disappointment, because the quiver in their chest grows stronger, thrashing against their ribs with unabated persistence. They refuse to open their eyes as Hero carries them all the way to their apartment and straight to their bedroom.

They lay Villain down on their bed and sit beside them, cupping their jaw with a cold hand. "Vil..." Hero's voice is small, and - if Villain didn't know better - they'd think it sounds choked up. "Look at me."

Villain groans, peeling their eyes open. The sight that greets them leaves their heart throbbing in their throat. Hero's eyes are brimming with tears, and their lips are trembling when they lean in, pressing them to Villain's forehead. They pull away, only to plant a kiss on Villain's split eyebrow, then shift to their bruising cheekbone, over to the other one - the small cut on it heals in mere seconds.

Villain watches them with bated breath, biting the inside of their cheek to keep any sounds from escaping them. Hero's hand on their jaw moves, tilting their head up as their lips trail down Villain's neck, ghosting over their collarbones. Villain registers a wet sensation on their skin but fails to process what it is until it drips down the base of their throat, leaving a damp trail in its wake.

Another drop hits Villain's burning skin, then one more. Their nemesis chooses to ignore them as their hands make quick work of Villain's shirt, pushing it open and trailing their lips down Villain's chest, fixing a broken rib back into place.

"Hero?" Villain can't help it when their hands take hold of Hero's head, lifting it off their body. Their tear-stained face wrecks Villain's heart worse than any injury could.

"I can't." Hero mutters in explanation, leaning down to plant another tender kiss onto Villain's feverish skin, their hands gripping their enemy's sides with uncharacteristic urgency. "I can't..."

"Hero, please," the pleading tone of their voice seems to snap Hero out of it as they withdraw hastily, their eyes widening. Villain moves to sit up.

"I'm sorry, I was... t-that was the last cut, y-you're all good now," Hero stutters out, panic contorting their face into a mask of horror. "I didn't mean to overstep."

Villain can't help the chuckle that escapes them at that conclusion. Their fingers brush through Hero's hair, earning a soft sigh from their nemesis. "I wasn't exactly trying to protest the kisses."

"You were not?" Hero repeats, their gaze finally daring to land on Villain as the criminal shakes their head. "I thought you wanted me to stop." Hero confesses, their head dropping, only to be brought back up again.

"No way in hell." The words fly out of their mouth before Villain can process them. They cannot bring themself to care about the consequences at this point. Not when Hero's hands are rubbing their sides unconsciously, not when they can still feel Hero's tears on their skin. "If you ask me, you don't have to stop, ever."

"What?" Hero's gaze darts back and forth between Villain's lips and eyes, wheels turning in their head as Villain watches them with a small smile tugging at the corner of their mouth. They bite their lip to keep their grin under control but fail miserably.

"You heard me," Villain states, causing Hero to roll their eyes. "Why were you crying?"

Hero freezes like a deer in headlights. Villain lets out an amused chuckle, still holding Hero's face in their hands. And, when Hero doesn't respond, Villain decides to take matters into their own hands.

"Can you heal one more cut for me?" They ask, barely containing the cheeky smile threatening to break onto their face any minute now.

Hero nods, their expression shifting into that of worry. "Yes. 'Course I can. Where?"

Villain doesn't utter a word, instead pointing to their bitten lip. They also give up on keeping a neutral expression, allowing the smug smirk to stretch in full glory.

Now that leaves Hero speechless and gaping. For several seconds, they stare at Villain in disbelief, their heart pounding heavily in their ribcage.

"Are you gonna let me bleed o-"

Villain's playful remark is cut short when Hero lunges at them, connecting their lips with more force than Villain anticipated. They fall onto their back, with Hero landing on top of them as they focus on healing Villain's 'dreadful' injury with painstaking dedication.

Masterlist

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing @lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm @betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney @thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode @villain-life @villainsblood @whumpifi @glassthedumbass @silviathebard @misskowe @ayeshaturnedtoashes4444

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spidergrotto · 1 month

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fic writers that write touch starved characters and focus on the non sexual intimacy instead of immediately going the other way will always be my favourites i am shouting all of you out right now.

touch starved in a sense that one hug will knock character a out !!! character b randomly playing with character a and they start crying !! character a has always associated touch with pain and isn’t used to it meaning anything else !!!!

#projecting #projecting? me? never #someone send me the touch starved bucky barnes fics rn #i love to see it #ao3feed #ao3 writer #fic writers #marvel mcu #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #famfiction #touch starved

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blueeyesfilledwithpassion · 9 months

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Her Hunger

I Felt Your Hunger The Moment I Got Home.

Your Eyes Drinking Me In As I Got Closer.

We Feverishly Worked Each Other's Clothes Free To Feel Our Naked Warmth.

Mmmm Then Your Kisses Began.

You Feel Like Everything I Need.

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natt-writes · 9 days

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I love it when a touch starved whumpee gets captured by an extremely intimate whumper and is completely overwhelmed by the new sensations they are experiencing. They always wanted to be held, to be touched, to be loved and they know that Whumper is providing all these things, yet they are very uncomfortable due to it being Whumper that’s doing the touching. Or alternatively, a very intimate/touchy Whumpee gets captured by a cold and uncaring Whumper, having to adjust to not getting the affection they are used to in their everyday life along with Whumpers additional torture.

#whump ideas #touch starved #intimate whumper #whump writing #whump community #whump prompt #whumpblr #whumpee #whump #writers on tumblr #writers and poets

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ukit4m4 · 4 months

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so done brah. my first short fic flopped. ain't writing any fic anymore.

#bi han #bi han x reader #writing #writer problem #starving writer #writers #sub zero #writers on tumblr #what is wrong with me

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lotus-flower-writes-history · 8 months

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Masterlist

🚧 Under Construction🚧

The Unofficial Black History Book

Author's Note

Phillis Wheatley

The 16th Street Baptist Bombing

Janet Collins

Juneteenth

Mary Beatrice Davidson Kenner

The Tulsa Race Massacre

The Eulogy of Malcolm X

Clara Hale

Maya Angelou

Ruby Bridges

Huey P. Newton

Henry "Box" Brown

Bessie Coleman

The Jim Crow Laws

The 1866 Memphis Massacre

Jessie Owens

Bayard Rustin

Freedom Summer

Fred Hampton

Ella Baker

Colfax Massacre

Della Reese

St. Elmo Brandy

Elbert Frank Cox

Dr. Wade Nobles

Fern Hunt

Henrietta Lacks

Lincoln Theodore Monroe Andrew Perry

Hattie McDaniel

Red Summer

#masterlist #lotus flower writes history #writing #black female writers #black writblr #black writers #the unofficial black history book #my writing #writers on tumblr #black activism #starving writer #writing community #writers life #writblr

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anxious-lee · 3 months

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guys help why is the hazbin hotel tickle section so small on tumblr still 😭

#im STARVING #@ the writers and artists who do post about it: not you you're cool #tickle #tickles #tickling #ticklish #tickle community #lee talks #hazbin hotel tickles

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daydreamsandcrashingwaves · 2 months

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Transference Ch 2

inspired by @scealaiscoite 's touch-starved prompts

TW: First aid on bad wounds, uhhh swearing? cuz Danny should get to say fuck, can't think of anything else atm, if u want a better list follow the Pt 1 link to my Ao3

Go gently friends,

~Ren

Pt 1

Danny wants to pull this plane apart. He would do it happily! With a little extra enthusiasm. He wants to remove panels to see the guts, how the wires connected and weaved together to put this wonder together. What gave the engine that quiet whisper of a purr that even with Danny’s dialed up senses he could barely hear it? Was it made out of special metal? A plane used in vigilante missions must have been reinforced with special materials in case of impact or a crash. Who oversaw the maintenance? Danny wanted to meet the person who regularly got elbows deep in the bowels.

How many special security measures did it have? Since this was Batman’s plane probably more than Danny could think of. How many secrets did it guard? This plane probably had access to some very dangerous information, so one would assume it was a target. The plane was vulnerable being left unattended wherever they were. With the vigilante’s away on their mission their rogues could play. Danny knew firsthand with his own rogues. Was the plane on the same network as the Batcave? It had to be right? At least the comms? Was it in case they had to share updates on confidential files between locations? Danny’s fingers itch to get his hands on the controls, examine the programming, maybe find a systems list.

He can’t see the plane that well yet, but he can feel it hum under his feet. The soft vibration works its way up his body-it’s nice, he decides, to be able to focus on figuring out what exactly was running down below rather than his brother collecting a number of things before moving behind him. Danny was close enough to the wall that his fingers traced along barely there seams between the smooth, cool to the touch metal. He wouldn’t know how durable it is unless someone told him what the material was, but the likelihood of them divulging their secrets was very low, if nonexistent.

Still Danny was free to wonder, no one could restrict his thoughts. What kind of weapons systems did it have? Surely there must be a bathroom. Regular planes had those small ones, if Danny’s experience with Vlad’s displays of wealth told him anything, the obnoxiously rich liked to embellish their already expensive things with expensive add-ons. Danny can’t yet see how big the cabin is, but he’s perched on some sort of cot. He must be in some sort of medical treatment area that the Bats use when they get injured on missions and there is no doctor readily available.

If things go well after his eyes are healed maybe his father would let him take a look around? (They currently were itching something fierce as they slowly healed.)

The parallel between the Fentons and Bruce Wayne’s intelligence was not lost on Danny, and he cannot help but feel so heart wrenchingly fond. He has had a lifetime habit of collecting parents that have made brilliant vehicles.

(He ached for the time before the portal when he was close with the family that took him in, when that GAV was simply an RV to take deep in the woods and lay out a blanket on the hood or roof to watch the stars, talking about the possibility of something more out there.)

Danny can’t stop his flinch from where Nightwing had accidentally rubbed too hard along the edge of his shoulder. “Hey Bud?” Nightwing calls out, “Lookin at your back, well, some of the tissue has started dying,” The man genuinely sounded upset about it, did he not know? “it’ll need to be removed, but I’ll have Agent A take a look when we get off a moving vehicle, okay?” His brother finished explaining over Danny’s internal tangent. His back doesn’t hurt that bad, which is concerning in its own way since the wound was- as dick pointed out- awful, but it did draw him back out of head. Danny bobs his head in acknowledgement. “I’ll clean them up the best I can for now.” Danny probably wasn’t supposed to hear that mumble that sounded like Richard was talking to himself, as though he was reassuring himself there was something productive he could do to improve the situation.

Despite the setback, the vigilante is calm, sitting behind Danny painstakingly cleaning his back wounds. So far unshaken by what Danny is certain is a grotesque scene the man is chattering away about patrols and the person called Agent A, who he is reassured will meet them back at the Cave. It kind of amazed Danny how the man was able to endure his tiny flinches and hissed breath to try while trying to distract him. Danny currently wasn’t an easy patient to stomach.

The sores tunneled down through fat and muscle to his bone. Most of the sores were in stage four, it didn’t take them long to eat away at him and fester, even before becoming a halfa the boy was tall and willowy meaning he had no body fat to slow down the progression of the forming injuries. They hadn’t tried to hide anything from him in the time he was trapped there. After all, if a ghost isn’t sentient, it can’t possibly understand in-depth scientific experiments so why bother to attempt secrecy that would be a waste of precious time and energy. They had simply discussed it like everything else, over his twisted body for most of the day. The scientists had only moved him previously when they needed access to a different part of his body. When they discovered his body started to develop bed sores They were excited. (Danny felt himself slipping away from his body into his memory, he was slipping away from Richard.)

“That’s odd…Honey! Look,” The woman said softly some time into his captivity. She’s pointing at his side, Danny can’t tell what she could be pointing at, all of him hurts. He can’t remember what they did there that could be worth pointing out now. Them not remembering sends a weak chill down his spine, they kept meticulous notes even if it was swallowed by their disorganized storage, it shouldn’t be possible for them to be surprised at the state he’s in since they carefully crafted the condition he’s in. Her fingers flick his collar on, unbuckling the right restraint as she goes before they sharply dig into his right shoulder, before flipping him onto his side roughly to see from another angle like that old map on their family trip to see Aunt Alicia last summer. “It’s getting sores! Stage two I’d say.”

“Bed sores? It’s hurting itself?” The man’s voice comes out bewildered before he leans closer to see and then cheerfully muses. “Seems like the ectoscum can cannibalize itself! Look at the inflammation! Do you think the infection and strain could kill a ghost?” Danny whimpers behind his muzzle when he can feel the man in his curiosity starting to poke at the edges of the wound with something metal and sharp. “Huh, Mads?” The man prompts.

The woman doesn’t respond. Their silence blankets the room, the scientists both thinking over what they see, what it means.

The woman makes a small sound and goes rigid reaching for her husband. “I-It’s damaging Danny’s corpse!” She wails in grief, Danny wants to wail right along with her that they’re already destroying his body, "Degrading him further-” A sob echoes in the lab ripping his heart into tatters, Danny tries not to think too hard on the fact he’s so affected by her distress even though they’ve been elbow deep in his ribcage, poking, prodding and removing organs. He tracks the diagonally moving tears as they dribble down the side of his face, across his left cheek to disappear into his hairline. He feels ashamed, after all this hurt, he still loves them, his core still cries out for them. He realizes she’s not just sobbing now the woman is screaming at his prone form, “-how cruel is your species going to be!? Get out. GET OUT OF OUR SON! Murderer! You-”

NO!

No, now isn’t the time to think about that.

Danny can taste the iron from his bitten cheek and the salt from wayward tears. He takes a deep breath trying to ground himself in the present. Nightwing had seen the lab, the sight of the mad scientist’s work had made him physically sick, pulled him so carefully from that table, smoothly carrying him away from his own personal hell to the Batplane. They aren’t here. He was… safe with his brother, for the moment.

A crackle of static explodes from behind him causing Danny to flinch away from his brother before a mess of different voices comes through. He can’t hear what they’re saying, the voices too tangled, too unfamiliar, and too quiet since he didn’t have a direct connection, but whatever is said at the end is enough for the vigilante to go rigid and pause in his ministrations to reply. “Woah, B, I’m still here, no need to sound so scary!” Richard chuckles a bit and doesn't feel scared or worried, so Danny relaxes again.

The eldest son hums, “No, I just was ignoring you,” Danny cracked a small smile at the plume of amusement that drifted between them. Richard’s hand grasps his own gently, “Yes I know how batty you get when I shut off my comms. Yes, I found the main lab.” Richard huffs, “Yes. B, I got ‘im out, we’re in the plane, I’m looking over him now. Have you forgotten I’ve been doing this with you since I was eight or that I took over the Batman mantle under the assumption you were dead?” Richard's voice strains a little in frustration by the end.

Another smaller burst of noise comes quickly in response. Danny flushes weakly in embarrassment as he realizes, like with Team Phantom, it was probably Nightwing’s team all talking over each other in his earpiece. Danny’s core aches at the thought of his sister and friends, how long has it been since Danny’s heard their voices? Weeks? Months? Ancients, could he have been with Them for a year? More?

A single voice breaks through over the others, whatever was said had Nightwing tense, ready to spring to his feet, bursting at the seams with rage-protect-refusal-grief.

The sudden change in his bubbly brother would’ve knocked Danny down had he been standing, because he isn’t standing Danny reaches out. Danny might not trust him but his father’s eldest hasn’t even tried to hide what he was feeling. Might not know he needs to. He has his ‘eyes’ wide open now. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice and he became a lab frog. There will not be a third time. Danny will not trust this side of his family blindly but that doesn’t mean he can turn away from the man now.

He squeezes his brother’s hand gently to draw his attention, Danny could hear the man force himself to take a long, deep breath. A soft burst of affection-love-love-love-protection brushed against him in return. It was delicate and wispy but strong enough to linger in the air around them. It couldn’t hurt to keep the contact going, Danny decided. Anything to keep that depressing cocktail of emotions from creeping back.

“No.” Another breath, “Stay there and finish what we started.” The tone is cold and leaves no room for argument. “No one comes on board. This isn’t about what you, or Robin or anyone wants. This is about him. What he needs to feel safe enough to leave here with me. This is about trust. So. If he has decided that he would like some peace and quiet on the way home, he’ll be getting it. Anyone who has an issue with that can take it up with me in the ring when we get back. Any questions?” Nightwing growls into his comms, a singular voice says something after a moment.

Danny strains to try and catch what was said. He doesn’t want them to fight over him. “Good,” His brother loses the edge to his voice, “I’ll send the plane back to pick you guys up!” The coms shut off abruptly and he says to Danny, “Sorry about them!”

Danny just shrugs in response as his brother resituates himself on the cot, unhooking Danny’s hand from his to move it so it rested against Richard’s calf. Danny accepted the change with a weak flex of his hand feeling the rasp of kevlar against his palm. Danny always remembered it because of its interesting texture. Perfect for their dangerous nightlife. If Danny needed armor this is what he’d want to get his hands on, a team with resources tends to help too. Keeping in touch with one’s team is important, Danny can’t fault Richard for that. They settle back into a comfortable silence.

Because they were connected it was easy to catch the beginnings of Richard’s hesitance stirring, “If.. How would it make you feel if your brother wanted to see you?” Richard asks hesitantly as he unexpectedly starts on a new wound making Danny flinch forward. “Sorry Danny.” The genuine, unfiltered feeling of remorse unsettles Danny a bit but instead of retreating he leans into it. The people who once had been his parents- who he still loved despite what had happened, it was all encompassing and intertwined with his anger and longing- had never felt remorse for hurting him. Danny shook his head a bit, Richard is still waiting for a response.

His brother? Richard was his brother, technically, even if Danny’s not sure he can risk staying with the Bats. He won’t deny anyone their connection to Bruce or Batman. Richard was gentle and caring while his emotions bubbled up and warmed Danny to his core like he was in a jacuzzi. He couldn’t have meant himself so that must mean one of the others wanted to see him? Would they be like Richard? Are any of them upset at the idea that another child was connected to Bruce?

They were all siblings, all family through their father but that doesn’t mean the connection has to be acknowledged or the label meant anything. Brother, sister, son, they were all just words. Family extended only as far as the living with the Fentons. Him being half-dead disqualified him quickly once they discovered his secret. Danny wasn’t exactly excited to find out what his father and his brood thought of his after-life.

Unsure, Danny shrugged again and played with the sweatshirt, he liked bunching it in his hands.

A few minutes of silence went by before a beeping started up. His brother sighed, not sounding surprised and started digging around looking for something. That something is placed in his hand, it takes a second for Danny to work out what it is. A comm. He throws a questioning hum back at Richard. “He’s calling on a private line, I figured you could listen in and make your own decision.” That. That was very considerate. Giving him a choice. Seems to be on trend for the man. Danny is rightfully suspicious but slips the comm into his ear nodding to go ahead and connect them. There’s a beep signaling the connection was established. Danny wasn’t prepared who he would hear on the other end.

“Wing. I am converging on your location. What is his status?” The voice is breathless, and the tone is harsh, filled with frustration but familiar. A voice lost to time and those damned sand dunes.

“He’s currently conscious, Little D. Banged up but we expected that. Thought I told everyone to hold their positions?” He questions softly, a distinct contrast to the almost harsh tone he used on the comms earlier. Dick knows Damian has been desperate to find Danny running himself into the ground searching labs and bases, the team tried and failed to get him to rest or slow down for a moment to regroup. Isn't surprising that he’s decided to abandon his part of the mission and head for the plane. It kills Dick but he’ll have to be very firm in his stance besides Danyal, if he says no other Bats on the plane, Dick will leave Damian behind.

“Tt. I did not abandon my responsibilities. Orphan is finishing our section,” Damian sounds offended their brother even implied that he didn’t do a thorough job, the familiar reaction lessens some of the uncertainty Danny is feeling. “I have arrived, open the doors, Wing.”

“Sorry Baby Bat, no can do!” Nightwing cheerfully responds, “I’m-” Danny tugs hard on the man’s sleeve.

Danny signs frantically, D.A.M.I. comes aboard. Now. Hurry. We are mirrors. Dangerous

The man looks confused at his interjection but has such a soft smile on his face at Danny’s response until it turns to a frown at the last bit, one that Danny realizes with a start that he can finally see. Slowly the man reaches for his comm, “Scratch that, Baby D says you need to come aboard. Looks like those bastards could have it out for you too.”

~~~~~~~

Dick watches both of his brothers as Robin rushes inside as soon as the door is cracked enough to squeeze through. Dick stays where he is by the console, hitting the buttons to close the door and listens to the many locks reengage. Once secure he inputs their destination and hits autopilot. Better to get Danny to Alfred as soon as possible now that both twins are on board. If he has to separate them… Well, there are some tranquilizers on board and Dick is sure Damian could enjoy his nap in the bathtub as punishment for upsetting their very injured new sibling. Damian freezes a few steps from the door, Dick sees the desperate drive to find his twin that has been hounding the boy for weeks extinguishing the moment he laid eyes on the cot. He’s ripping off his domino mask with no hesitation, exposing his full face for them to see.

Dick almost relaxes when he sees the awe that broke through first on Danny’s face at Damian’s entrance, the emotion flickers away quickly before he tucks his chin in and his face is obscured in shadow. The urge to jump in and soothe him rises so quickly Dick almost rises from his seat but instead throws his weight back further until his hip digs in a bit to the arm and he knows he will remain in place. He would not interfere unless Danny became physically distressed. Danny had wanted to see Damian, Dick reminds himself. Dick had a few reasons he had even asked the boy about it. If things went well it truly would be good for both of the twins.

Dick had seen Damian determined before, seen the kid get news that left him shaken and lost, but no one had seen him flip flop from rattled to be as focused or push himself that hard, not even when Damian was convinced the only way to prove his worth to Bruce was killing his older siblings. He’s grown so much over the years and is now making his own decisions and having so many different experiences, his little brother has learned so much and came so far. Dick didn’t think it was possible to feel prouder.

“Dami.” Danny croaks with a wince and a hand at his throat. He’s looking at his lap, his other hand fiddling with the sheets.

“Danyal.” Damian’s voice wavers, “Ahki.” The boy is rooted to his spot, waiting for permission to approach. The words visibly hit Danny and he shakes his head a wounded whine. He clearly didn’t expect his twin to be here nor Damian to recognize him as blood, as a brother. Danny’s hand drops the sheet reaching for Damian. His body starts to tilt forward, and Dick can’t help but take a step towards them even as Damian rushes to meet Danny, carefully draping his arms around Danny’s shoulders which gently keeps him from falling to the floor. There isn’t much unbroken skin to rest Damian’s arms on, but Danyal hardly seems to care.

A heart wrenching sob fills the cabin, their youngest sibling gripping Damian’s cape so tightly his knuckles are white. Dick can just make out the quiet tones of Damian speaking Arabic quietly in their brother’s ear. Their bodies sway with the instinctual drive to comfort, it’s touching, very cute…

Always one to take advantage of sibling shenanigans Dick quickly pulls out his phone with a smile and snaps a picture to send to the boys later… And the group chat that Damian isn’t in. Picture sent, he tucks his phone away. His phone vibrates with multiple notifications but doesn’t check it. The Bat Brood can simmer. Dick smirks as he moves back over to the sink to wash his hands so he can continue treating Danyal’s back. The tears and sobs abruptly cut off behind him.

“Fuck.”

~~~~~

If Danny didn’t just spend an unknown amount of time being tortured by the family that chose him as a child, he would be sinking through the floor in mortification. Damian was here. His gaze burned from the entrance and Danny for a long moment was afraid. What was Damian seeing when he gazed at the pathetic picture Danny made hunched on the cot? Danny couldn’t help but fidget with the sheet to try and ease the unsteady feeling in his chest. He’d wait. Yes. Let Damian brave the quiet- “Dami.” The broken sound leaves his throat, oh ouch.

He raises a hand to hover over the area, cradling it as if his palm could dampen the scratching pain. Danny waits. He had fucked it up. He hasn’t even given his brother the respect of meeting his gaze. (Not that he can see clearly for more than a foot in front of him, everything past that was misshapen and difficult to make out.) What in the Infinite Realms has possessed him to call out to Damian so casually, affectionately? Damian had only ever allowed that name in the hush of the night when they were alone.

“Danyal.” Oh. “Ahki.” Oh. Oh Damian, his other half. Awe-grief-regret-vengeance- protect-help-love whipped across the space between them, heavy and fierce Danny can’t help but shake his head with a sharp whine. Guilt chokes him for doubting his twin, his other half. With distance he was able to bottle up his yearning and then he was so busy with the portal, rogues and Zone, he had been too exhausted to reminisce too deeply about his childhood. He kept his eye on the news for surface level stuff, had seen his brother go to their father but didn’t dare make a move to follow him.

He regrets that now as Damian slips his arms around his shoulders gently securing him back onto the cot. Damian was holding him like he’d shatter at too hard of a grip, but Danny doesn’t care, he’s in his brother's arms. Damian is hugging him. Danny can’t stop the sobs that bubble from his chest, it hurts each inhale pulls at his y-incision, the pain he hasn’t felt rushing forward. Danny fists fabric and pulls his brother close.

"Baby brother,” Damian crooned in quiet Arabic “Danyal, I’m here. I got you. You did well enduring until help arrived, I’m so proud of you.” Damian’s emotions were overwhelming, they accompanied his sweet words enveloping his senses. He wasn’t lying, Danny can feel it. The rage that’s rising within Damian should scare him yet he’s leaning on his brother harder. Damian is furious with Them, not Danny. He sobs and listens to his brother's promises of safety, of retribution. He feels safe here cradled close in Damian’s arms. Truly safe, something hidden deep within him unwinds.

He knows how stubborn his twin is, how he would’ve fought tooth and nail to be part of the team that was looking for him. He’ll have to ask about that later, how they’d even know to go looking for him when he’s years dead, buried, and bones for his birth family. He was a little mad they’d bring his brother here when-

His core shutters in his chest. The feeling that something was wrong hit Danny harder than Skulker. “Fuck.” Danny reluctantly pulls back from Damian. His core pulses weakly. Danny somehow knows it’s a warning.

“Danyal?” Damian sounds wary, his hand grips Danny’s arm tightly. The pressure is reassuring because Danny is so scared right now. But this could be worse. With Damian here, perhaps things will turn out okay.

Danny wants to linger looking at his eyes. A shade he’s never found a substitute for, but so desperately tried to keep fresh in his memory. Time slows. His core pulses. Danny’s body wavers for a heartbeat in his brother's grip. “What is happening?!” Damian looks alarmed, his grip tightening and releasing like he does with his blades while gearing up for a fight. It’s cute and almost makes Danny coo at his elder brother.

Running out of time Danny grits his teeth and frees his arm to start signing as fast as he can to try and explain. It would help if he knew how much they knew about him, the Fentons, the GIW and ghosts but they didn’t have time for a report. He doesn’t want to say too much but he has to warn them. If Vlad finds out he’s away from the GIW and vulnerable he was screwed. The Bat Parade isn’t trained in ghost fighting. Danny would be taken and who knows if he’d ever be able to escape.

Had an accident. Not fully human. Too much physical damage- Danny signs.

His core pulsed weakly interrupting him before it pulled, his body rippled in sync. His head swims, words are hard to remember for a moment. Danny has to hurry, and he isn’t really sure how he wants to phrase this next part, if anything causes the Bats to change their minds about helping him, it won’t matter what Damian wants. The only way for Danny was through, avoidance wouldn’t help at this point.

-I’m about to hibernate in my C. O. R. E. Core- He continues.

“Core? What is a core?” Dick breaks in. Danny’s eyes jumped to the man, before focusing back on Damian, there wasn’t time. They would barely be getting a shitty explanation out of Danny didn’t have time for questions from the peanut gallery. Damian's gaze is calm and steady when it meets his. He hasn’t turned away from him, he didn’t interrupt.

-I haven’t seen it, but it’s… my everything, heart, organs, brain. Core heals. Without a human body DANGEROUS for me. Danny is sure to emphasize again, DANGEROUS, vulnerable.

Find J. A. Z. Z. F. E. N. T. O. N. Useful. Ally- Danny hesitates on why but gives in- knowledge, weapons, shields.

V.L. A. D. Enemy. Vlad is bad. Don’t trust.

He makes the sign for creep and sees Damian’s expression shutter under his protective rage. An instinctive small trill leaves Danny’s lips, pleased that if Vlad shows his face Damian won’t make it easy for him to have his way.

Despite his best effort Danny is losing steam his instructions come out choppy. He has moments left.

Damian watches him, like he can feel Danny’s core shift, resignation seeps off his body in waves but determination makes his expression fierce, “You will be safe, Danyal. I will be here when you return.” We will be together. Danny hears the unspoken promise.

A. H. K. I. You’re a target. I love you. Danny signs their personal signal for head on a swivel and then reels Damian back in, desperate for one last touch to make him real. Tucked in his twin's arms Danny gives himself over to that feeling of safety, clinging to it as he sank into his core.

~~~~~

Damian blinked light out of his eyes and frowned at the big black spot taking up his vision. His hand now hid what was left of his twin. Danyal had just been in front of them horribly hurt but alive. Finding and freeing his twin was all that had mattered to him. Damian lightly squeezes the hand holding his brother’s quiet core to feel the shape of it in his palm. Once more in his life Danny’s vibrant presence is just out of his reach.

Grief is an old friend that rises to swallow him. Damian beats it back viciously. Black and blue move closer in his peripheral vision, his eldest brother snatches him close-no. Them close. His brother is still alive. He’s healing. Damian reminds himself despite the sudden wave of failure that crashed into him. Holds onto the thought stubbornly as he examines the stone in his hand. It’s the same shade of blue that makes up Danyal’s eyes.

The impulsive part of him calms looking into the swirling blue.

If he hadn’t seen the transformation himself. If he hadn’t been allowed aboard… he wouldn’t believe it. Damian is immensely grateful that captivity hadn’t broken his brother, not completely. Danny had been hesitant but had put his trust in them. Damian had seen his hesitation, the wariness, how Danyal had shrunken into himself, his instincts likely screaming to run, to hide. Whether that trust was because he chose to, or if he ran out of options, Damian didn’t want to know the answer. The unknown time between them no longer was a curiosity to be explored in ‘what ifs’ but a potential threat that Danyal needed to handle carefully. It stung, it being logical didn’t detract from that. Too many years apart, too much had changed within each of them, and their relationship cut short before it took off but not before carving out a part of him. Nothing could compare to the cruel crater Danyal’s life had left in his wake of his death.

His twin’s core gleamed innocently in his palm.

“Damian.” Richard’s worried tone draws his attention away from Danyal’s new form.

Damian keeps his gaze on the core, takes a calming breath and promises himself that when Danyal is back, they’ll go to the place he secured and created with his twin in mind after coming to Gotham, show him Damian’s sketchbooks and paintings, and introduce him to the animals in his care. Damian will finally get to share this strange, chaotic, but warm family with him, as he was always meant to. Damian would be careful that there would be no mistakes, no lead unfollowed, every piece would be gathered together and turned over, a plan would be made that would safeguard their victory. Danyal is relying on him. Damian will utilize everything he’s gained over their years apart to protect his brother.

“Release me,” Damian demands as he wiggles out of his brother’s arms, but it doesn’t come out as firm as it would normally and turns to glance at the closest monitor. They still had two hours left until they arrived at the manor. Damian glances at Danyal’s core in his hand before he turns to face Richard. He looks like he needs to lie down but he has managed to keep a wobbling smile on his face. “Tt this is a mere setback,” Damian scowls at the little marble, he can’t be mad when his little brother gave him such valuable information on what pieces are on the board, the board he’s been playing on wherever he’s been hiding.

“Here, hold him for a moment- No!” Damian’s shout is too loud, it echoes around the cabin. His panic morphs his expression and his brother thankfully does halt his casual reckless reaching for their brother who is a quarter-sized marble. Danny only had said he was vulnerable before he ran out of time, they must exert the utmost caution. There would be no causal anything going on with Danyal in this state. “Let me. Please hold them flat.” Damian says softening his tone, Danny going into his core wasn’t Richard’s fault nor was it the families. He didn’t want to take his frustration out on him when Damian knows his eldest brother is reeling at the transformation right alongside him. The soft tone makes Richard’s smile come a bit easier this time at Damian’s mother henning and Damian tries not to preen under the approval he can see in Richard’s dopey smile. Carefully he places Danyal in Richard’s hands, they close softly around Danyal in a protective cage.

“He said he heals faster in this ‘core’?” It’s a silly question, but Damian nods watching Danny rest in Richard’s palms before sharply turning away to gather his things. He starts digging around for paper and a pen to make notes, folders for organizing the information, and his laptop before hunkering down.

“Uh.. okay,” Richard’s confusion both amused him and had Damian ready to snap in frustration. Danny had spent his last moments in his body giving them information and it will not go to waste, not for a second. He carefully labels the folders with the names Danyal had given him, pointedly ignoring the crisis Richard seems to be going through next to him, before he turns on his laptop and starts his search with this ‘Jazz Fenton’. Danny didn’t give Vlad's last name but this woman has the knowledge, weapons, and shields the family will need to protect their youngest. Damian knows what loss is, knows this loss specifically, he is determined to never feel it dig his claws in again.

Robin gets to work.

#daydreamsandcrashingwaves #ddcw.txt #dc x dp #danny and damian are twins #transference fic #hurt/comfort #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #Torture #old wounds #Touchstarved prompt #@scealaiscoite 's touch-starved prompts #evil cackling #ISTG i had the biggest grinch smile on my face writing this #Hope you enjoy as much as I did writing it!

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vampireink · 7 days

Text

I am ravenous for the taste of your skin against mine. For your hands in my hair and mine on your waist. I long to drown in the sea of your love, to be filled with the warmth of your touch ... I am so deprived of contact from another that at every waking second, all I can think about is you.

[Kas]

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