#then he blew up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

confessedlyfannish · 7 months

Text

DP x DC Writing Prompt #5

Damian does not glance back at Bruce when he knocks on the door. Instead they both wait in silence.

After a moment, the door opens.

"Hello," Jasmine, Jazz, Fenton greets politely, unsurprised to find the Waynes on her doorstep. Damian's expression grows ever darker at this revelation.

"Hello Ms. Fenton, are your parents home?" Bruce asks, placing a firm hand on Damian's shoulder, to ground as much as to restrain. To his credit he does not shake it off.

"No, they're out of town for a conference," the eighteen year-old says, opening the door wider. "But I think you'd better come in."

Bruce would normally decline, but Ms. Fenton is a legal adult and he has already, even unknowingly, waited 16 years. Damian makes the choice for him, striding past the threshold.

"Please take a seat," Jazz says as she leads them to the living room. She ignores Damian's swinging head as he takes in the home. It is deceptively large, a 90s style house filled with modern furniture. The walls are bright, with purple and green accents that would normally feel garish but somehow work. The stairs leading to the second floor are lined with family photos that Bruce yearns to take a closer look at. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?"

"No, that's alright, thank you," Bruce says, taking a seat on the long plush couch. A men's windbreaker lies haphazardly thrown across one of the arms. A closed container of Oreo cookies sit on the coffee table next to a physics textbook open to chapter 16, half covered in highlighter and filled with sticky notes. There's a child's painting framed next to the tv, a handprint made to look like a thanksgiving turkey in bright blue.

For the home of experimental scientists, it is cozy and well lived-in.

Damian repeatedly glances at the stairs through the doorway.

Bruce clears his throat. "We were hoping to--"

"I've texted--oh, I'm sorry," Jazz says, having spoken at the same time. Bruce gestures for her to go on.

"I've contacted Danny, he should be here soon. He was out with some friends." Jazz explains. As she hadn't pulled out a phone in their presence, Bruce can only deduce they have some sort of camera at their front door. This also explains Ms. Fenton's complete lack of surprise at their appearance.

"So you know who we are." Damian says, the first words he's spoken since they arrived at the house and the longest sentence he's spoken since they arrived in Amity Park.

"I do," Jazz says, calm in the face of Damian's clearly simmering anger. Bruce trusts him not to attack Ms. Fenton, but he still watches him carefully.

"He told you about me," Damian says. It is the same question, but it is also not.

"He did," Jazz says.

Damian swallows. "I see," he grits out.

Jazz's neutrality slips and her face softens in sympathy. "Damian," she starts hesitantly, but before she can say anything else the front door opens.

A moment later Bruce's son walks through the doorway, and Damian is on him.

This is what Bruce hoped to prevent, but despite his numerous checks of Damian's luggage his son has still managed to smuggle a small dagger, which he now produces and swings in a calculated arc at Daniel Fenton's jugular.

Danny dodges cleanly, and dodges every swipe thereafter in a manner that speaks to continued practice long after his time at the League. Damian is a perfect product of his training, but it is up against Danny his flaws come to light. He is just as good as he always was, but Danny is better.

In a matter of seconds Damian grows frustrated and sloppy in his attacks, completely atypical for him. Danny takes Damian out at the knees and pins him down with one arm, pressing his face into the carpet.

"Calm down," he orders. His voice is deeper than Damian's at sixteen to his twelve, the accent that still traces Damian's words completely gone from his speech. Damian growls and thrusts his head back into Danny's face, meeting it with a sharp thunk. He rolls up as Danny recoils, putting distance between them. Danny glares at him from several steps away, hand to his forehead. Damian tosses the dagger into his other hand as he charges, and to Bruce's surprise Danny does nothing more than turn his face to the side, allowing Damian to draw a sharp line down his cheek.

Damian stops dead in his tracks.

"Are you done?" Danny asks, blood beginning to pool at the seam of the cut.

Damian's expression is stricken, eyes stuck on the blood starting to drip down his brother's face.

"I said, are you done, Damian?" Danny asks. His voice is cold.

Damian hears him this time, and he flushes red. "I--you--"

Danny sighs. He looks at Jazz, whose expression is back to carefully controlled.

"Are you alright?" he asks her. She nods.

"You left me," Damian accuses, standing there holding his bloody dagger limply.

Danny turns back to him, raising an eyebrow.

"You left me," Damian repeats louder, rapidly blinking.

"Yes. I did." Danny provides no excuse nor any explanation. His stance is unyielding.

Damian's eyes bounce wildly, shifting to Jazz and Danny slides smoothly in front of her, protectively. He looks at Damian warily, not as if he is his brother, but as if he is a danger. Damian flinches.

Hope is the last to die, Bruce thinks, watching as that last bit of hope Damian had is extinguished, the knowledge working its way through every inch of his body like ice in his veins. His eyes darken. He turns and runs from the room, the front door slamming shut not a moment later.

Jazz stands up, pulling a few tissues from the box on the coffee table. She presses them to Danny's face, cupping his cheek until he holds it himself. "I'm going to go get the first aid kit," she says gently. It is a thinly veiled excuse to leave them alone, and Bruce is grateful for it as she heads for the stairs.

They both wait until her footsteps have faded, taking each other in. Bruce looks at his mother's eyes and the sharp turn of Talia's nose. Damian's everything, four years older.

"You shouldn't have come here," Danny says, throwing himself on the armchair Jazz has just vacated.

"You know who I am," Bruce says carefully.

Danny glares. "I've kept your secret. She nor my parents know."

"I know," Bruce says. "That's not what I meant. You know who I am. And who I pretend to be. So you know I am familiar with masks."

"And?" Danny asks, looking vaguely bored.

"And so I can recognize when someone is wearing one. Damian will too, once he's calmed down."

Danny's expression sharpens. "No, he won't. Because you are going to go to back to whatever bed and breakfast you're staying in, pack up, hop in your private jet and fly him back to Gotham immediately before the League realizes you've gone. If they haven't already," he mutters.

"This is about the League then," Bruce says. "Do you not believe I can protect you?"

"I don't need your protection," Danny snaps, and watches Bruce actively extrapolate with a dawning resignation. "So this is the World's Greatest Detective at work," he says, slumping bonelessly into his chair, the first teenager-y thing he's done.

"Damian's in danger from the League," Bruce says. Danny glares from his slump. It's almost cute. "And as long as the League doesn't know about you, he's safe."

"Draw your own conclusions," Danny says, baring his teeth. Damian often makes the same face. "As long as you leave."

"I can protect him. I can protect you both," Bruce says. "Let me help you."

Danny closes his eyes. He centers his breathing in an exercise someone has clearly walked him through in the past. Bruce would bet money on the adoptive sister waiting patiently upstairs.

"Mr. Wayne. You are not my father," he says. "My trust in you extends to the point that I left Damian in your care, but that is where it ends. And that was when it was sanctioned by the League. By coming here you have endangered those sanctions."

Bruce disregards the sting, doubling down on his analysis. Talia had left Damian with Bruce well after Danny had left the League. But Danny speaks as if the decision had been his.

Or perhaps, Bruce realizes, it is not that Danny decided upon it, but that Danny allowed it to continue.

Bruce takes a second to review what Oracle had gone over with him before they left for Amity. Daniel Fenton had by all accounts, since leaving the League, lived a fairly normal life. His adoptive parents were eccentric scientists dabbling in the occult but their findings that bordered pseudoscience circulated a very niche community of like-minded eccentrics. The bulk of their income came from alternative energy, a more viable source of study that they'd veered harder into in the past year or so, a government contract with the EPA currently in the works. This had in part funded a vacation to an all-inclusive resort the family had taken that past summer.

Danny received average grades in school, above average in science and mathematics, declining sharply in his freshman year and sophomore year before evening out around the second semester. He had gotten into fights repeatedly with one student in particular, suspended for two weeks following an incident that resulted in a the student receiving a black eye. Teachers reported him to be highly intelligent but distracted and removed. They had recommended he be evaluated for an attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder. He had no social media. He had missed multiple picture days. The ones he had attended he was sneezing, or a blur of movement, even going so far as to fall off his stool, legs flailing. Bruce had drank up every last one as Barbara had waited patiently.

A normal life. A family vacation to Bermuda. Average grades.

His freshman year, distracted and removed. The same year Damian had arrived at Bruce's home. Masks upon masks.

"You have informants within the League," Bruce says. Danny, to his credit, has no discernible tell. But there is no other explanation. "What will you do, if they find out you are alive?"

"That is none of your concern," Danny says, but he might as well be saying whatever I have to.

He never stopped practicing, after all.

"If they go after Damian, it is my concern."

"And that is why you need to take Damian back to Gotham before they do." Danny says. "I will take care of it."

Damian had barely spoken since he had realized Danyal was alive. But Bruce had seen the reverence in his eyes as he looked at the file.

"الوريث الصحيح" he had murmured. The rightful heir.

"You are proposing going after the entirety of the League with no backup," Bruce says. "Even if you think they won't kill you, you won't win either."

"Maybe they will," Danny says lightly. "Kill me. That would also work."

Bruce inhales sharply. "Danny," he starts.

"Go home, Mr. Wayne," Danny says, pushing himself up with one hand. The other still clutches the wad of tissue to his cheek, partially soaked with blood. "Go take care of your son."

"I'll go," Bruce says, "I'll take him to the Watchtower. And then I'll come back."

"Mr. Wayne-"

"I should've come for you," Bruce interrupts. "Sixteen years ago. I should've come for you."

Danny's brow furrows. "You had no idea I existed."

"But if I had. I would've come. I never would've left you there. And now that I know, I am not leaving you now."

For the first time Bruce watches Danny be completely caught off guard. He openly gapes at Bruce.

"You would've died," Danny lands on, voice thin. "They would've killed you."

"Unlike you, I would've brought backup." Bruce says, mimicking Danny's lightness.

He's lying. Sixteen years ago he would've thrown himself at the League to save his newborn son without a plan, without a thought beyond rescuing his baby.

Danny barks out a laugh. "You would've laid siege to Nanda Parbat with The Big Blue Boy Scout?" he looks wistful. "That would've been rad."

Bruce sees his opening. "Danny," he stands, eye to eye with his son. "Let me help you."

Danny evaluates him. "The Batman," he says softly. "I didn't want you to come, then. I didn't need one more person I had to prove myself to. All I wanted was to live amongst the stars, in the quiet of the cosmos."

"You want to be an astronaut," Bruce says. At Danny's cocked head, he says without shame, "I read your essay on personal heroes. You wrote about Edward White. Ad Astra Per Aspera."

Danny smiles slightly, sadly. "It is a rough road."

"You can be whatever you want to be," Bruce says. "I won't stand in your way."

"Even if I want to be Danny Fenton?" he asks.

"Even then."

Danny sighs. "I don't need your help Bruce," he says. "No," he says as Bruce opens his mouth. He pulls the wad of tissues away from his cheek. Underneath the splotches of dried blood the gash in his face has cleanly knit itself together, a faint white line now all that remains.

"I don't need your help," he says clearly. He holds a palm forward, and a green fire grows from its center, until the flames are licking delicately up his fingers.

"I know The Batman does not kill. But I am not a Robin. I am something else entirely," Danny says, his eyes reflecting the green of the flames. Or not, as he looks up at Bruce, his eyes green all on their own. They are sad. This is why he stayed away, Bruce realizes. Not out of fear. Danny is not afraid. Danny is tired.

But for his brother, Danny will wake up.

"And If the League takes one step towards Damian, I will raze them to the ground."

#Danny I AM RETIRED FROM MURDER Fenton #the informants are ghosts #the thing about deductive reasoning is sometimes you deduct incorrectly #particularly when you don't know about the ghosts #danyal al ghul #damian wayne #danny phantom #batman #dp x dc au #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #bruce wayne #this is an au where damian doesn't get blown up and lose most of his vital organs #like bruce still isn't a super responsible parent but no nine year olds blow up so that's something #danny: he only blew up once so he can stay with you #batman: he did get speared straight through but we fixed it #danny: he wHAT #i wrote this instead of eating dinner #because drafts are for the mentally healthy #tbh i don't think his name would be danyal al ghul in this one #he's trying really hard to stay under the radar I don't think he would choose essentially a homonym

4K notes · View notes

diosapate · 1 month

Text

mercy killed john cleanly. he did not die in pain, she did not disrespect his body; she killed him quickly and efficiently and that was it. john killed her brutally!! he mutilated her and covered someone else with her gore and only then killed her with a tap to the back of the head. he ripped a dead woman’s cloak from her body and touched her corpse with his bare foot to prove a point!!

all this to say: necromancy is disrespect for the dead under the guise of reverence, and john isn’t even bullshitting respect for the dead anymore in Thee most obvious way. god’s mercy is finite and he has none left; i suspect that his “i’m just a little guy :)” act is at its end and we are about to see more of the man who claims that guys like him don’t make mistakes.

#just like. the way he treats her body is insane to me. shes a character that already lacks bodily autonomy so this is just so.#cannot fault augustine for trying to slam dunk him into hell thus dooming the universe Again tbh #shoutout to aster for the phrase ‘he blew mercy up in the microwave’ cant stop thinking about it #tlt meta #mercymorn the first #john gaius #harrow the ninth #the locked tomb #aust.txt

2K notes · View notes

akans-dead-at-sea · 5 months

Text

It's alright

30 second timelapse:

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd fanart #our flag means death #“I am a brave boy and will NOT cry while getting reference screenshots of Ed” he said.#*barely manages to hit Win+Shift+S through the fucking tears*#I'm sorry but this is the only decent OFMD fanart I got in me for now #I'm shit at drawing people with faces/head and I still gotta learn and find a style but god knows the gay pirates are gonna help me practic #I still need to recover from this scene- this episode- this season- this show goddamnit #ngl at first I liked how I drew Ed's hair but the more I look at it now the less I like it >:C #did I forget to post this? no nope nuh uh I don't know what you're talking about #this absolutely blew up on twitter- lowkey hope tumblr dot com likes it too :>#ed teach #stede bonnet #gentlebeard #ofmd s2e8 #tw blood #blood #akans art

1K notes · View notes

adoptable-fanfic-prompts · 3 months

Text

Red Robin Writing Prompt

Tim only told Jason that Jason had been cleaning up Gotham the ‘easy way’ is because Tim knows for a fact how easy killing is. He had his first kill before he was even 7 years old.

No one realizes this until Joker makes Tim “choose” between shooting one of two batfam members and Tim just picks up the gun without hesitation and shoots the Joker in just the right spot for it to be fatal but for it to not be an instant death.

Tim turns to Jason, “Like I said: Easy way out.”

#writing prompt #fanfic prompt #writing #fanfic #fanfic idea #fanfic ideas #dc #tim drake #red robin #red robin fanfic #Tim was left alone too much as a child #only reason he realized that killing was bad was from stalking Batman #Tim is not the most mentally well child #I mean it’s practically canon considering how easily he blew up the League of Assassins bases…#Tim needs therapy #in canon and in this writing prompt #so do the rest of the Bats #jason todd

813 notes · View notes

piercedmysoul · 7 months

Text

honestly i understand rose tyler. if an older looking mysterious man blew up the store i work at and then offered me to travel space and time with him i would also immediately say yes anything's better than my retail job

#and he BLEW IT UP too like??#thanks king #blowing up my place of work as a love language #it would work on me tbh #doctor who #ninerose #9th doctor #wluv

1K notes · View notes

paintalyx · 8 months

Text

my mom said we can't be friends if you don't like wyll. yeah even if you don't care about him. no sorry i don't make the rules but she's right you know

#my stuff #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #wyll ravengard #the rancidity of some takes i've seen on him... unparalleled...#look me in the eye and tell me that he's a flat and boring and that he isn't compelling i dare you #these people just couldn't bothered to think about his story for more than two seconds if at all #not every companion is going to do it for everyone sure but c'mon we know where most of bad takes are coming from #edit: this blew up apparently #keep it up kings in this (🏰) castle we stan wyll ravengard it's what he deserves

1K notes · View notes

aro-arttorneys · 4 months

Text

Happy "it wasn't christmas yet!" to those who celebrate 🥳

#ace attorney #miles edgeworth #what do i tag this as aaaa #turnabout goodbyes #manfred von karma #almost christmas #hii i worked real hard on this one -twirls hair-#while discovering the ins and outs of procreate dsjhfkjdfh #i almost gave up the entire project bc i couldn't get VK's hand right #but it worked out in the end #i always think about Von Karma's plan in 1-4 it drives me nuts #he planned this for 15 years and had a plan A and B just in case they'd get the real killer #all to make sure the Edgeworth family dies in the most agonising way possible #amazing. sublime. aa1 is still my favorite game by far #and 1-4 is still my favorite case. it blew me away. stellar game design and insane storytelling #i showed this drawing to my dad and tried to explain the symbolism and that was. hard without the full context HAHA

737 notes · View notes

ew-selfish-art · 4 months

Text

DP x DC AU: Danny desperately wants to find the explosion guy. Tim is really good at covering his tracks... he didn't account for ghosts.

The explosions make it onto TV as purported terror activity and most people haven't heard of that part of the world much less ever given a second thought to care about it. The only real reason it gets reported on has something to do with the Justice League and... Danny knows too much.

He's been in training for Clockwork's court (which he's suspicious of- feels like kingly duty bullshit- but Danny is playing along out of curiosity for now) and he's learned a lot about how the living and non-living worlds collide. That means learning about CW's usual suspects- one of which just happened to have a ton of bases around the area Danny was seeing on the news.

It didn't take long for Danny to try to piece together that whoever blew up Nanda Parbat was trying to fuck with the League of Shadows, and was doing it successfully. Less green portals in the world the better, same goes for assassins. But it gets Danny thinking... Maybe he can employ similar tactics on the GIW Bases that keep spawning on the edges of Amity Park. It would at least set them back while he and his friends navigated the help line desk to request Justice League intervention. None of them can leave Amity Park, so outreach is going to have to be creative.

So Danny figures he'll just find the guy. Call up some ghosts who were there, or er, came from there and get a profile and track him down. But the ghosts keep saying it was The Detective. Annoying!

Danny goes full conspiracy theory, gets Tucker and Sam involved, and begrudgingly asks Wes Weston his thoughts.

He hadn't expected Wes to garble out a thirty minute presentation (that had 100 more slides left to go before he cut it off) about how Batman totally trained with a cult and so did his kids. Danny kind of rolled his eyes but... hey, new avenue of searching in the Infinite Realms at least.

The ghosts confirm that Bombs is for sure not Batman's MO- But maybe his second kid would know? The second kid was already brought back to life though, so no way to easily reach him... Danny starts to realize that this might be the work of a Robin now. Wasn't the red one known for solving cold cases? (Sam provides this information- its a social faux pas to not know hero gossip at Gotham Galas- everything she's learned is against her will).

It all comes to a head when Danny goes about the hard task of opening a portal for the guy to come through at just the right time, explain the infinite realms so he doesn't panic and then describe what the fuck was going on with the GIW. It takes months, just over a full year, of random (educated guesses) portal generating- Finally, Red Robin drops into the land of the dead.

"So, you're the guy I've got to talk to about explosions right?" Danny enthusiastically asks.

Tim thinks he's died and landed in the after life following 56 hours of being awake and plummeting off the side of a building into a Lazarus pool. Nothing makes sense about the kid in front of him.

"Yeah, I got a guy for munitions." Tim answers cooly.

"How do you feel about secretly sanctioned government operations that violate protected rights?"

"Gotta get rid of 'em some how. Need me to point you in the right direction?" This might as well be happening.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom #long post #tim drake #red robin #tim and danny team up to blow up the GIW au #Tim being known as the explosion guy is my favorite and i will not let this part of his lore go ignored #Jason is the munitions guy obviously and the ghosts go crazy over the gossip it enlights when he helps in amity park #Danny one hundred percent is living for this working relationship- what a weirdo -danny hasn't met someone stranger than himself in a min #tim bartering his services for a few more years of life and danny just pikachu facing him #Tim wants to improve his relations in the afterlife be he still completely thinks hes dead #danny: dude ur still alive #Tim: yeah thats the goal but i'll help you meet your goals first and then we can negotiate #Danny decides to make the guy super ghost rich (thinking big Haunt real estate) and send him home #Tim blows up the GIW with no remorse and with all the data back up for proper justice to be served court side #tim returns from the dead and this is how the bats learn that he's the one who blew up nanda parbat all those years ago #it takes danny so long to find tim bc tim was spiralling and only after bruce got back did he get into a normal routine enough to get got

641 notes · View notes

iguessthisisanewobsession · 1 year

Text

Tim was four days into a sleep deficit so he felt that to say that this predicament was his fault was a bit of a reach.

For it to be his fault he would have had to cognizant of the last 16 hours.

All he wanted to do was take a power nap in the nearest closest durring the Waynetech gala but nooo Bruce had to be taken hostage by the Joker.

So he did what he thought would work best and shoved uncle Clark into the nearest emergency bat storage and told him to suit up.

Maybe he looked a bit more confused than normal but they didn’t need a reporter they needed Batman!

That being said wasn’t uncle Clark supposed to be off-world?

Oh no.

———��———

Jack honestly had no clue what was happening for the last six months so when he was told to be Batman he merely just shrugged as the frankly exhausted teen left him to his own.

With his son turning out to be part ghost to the government hunting down his said son and having to move shop halfway across the continent.

This might as well happen.

Grinning like a kid on Christmas, Jack plopped on the finishing touch.

“Oh Danno is not going to believe this!”

Raising a cloaked arm with a flourish Jack struck a pose.

“Alrighty Jack enough messing around! Time to save the party, Fenton style!

Shifting his feet, Jack took a deep breath before smoothing his face the best he could. After all, couldn’t have a smiling Batman! Before walking out the room and taking running leap through the wall to the streets of Gotham before grappling to the nearest building.

#this is the one time the media suspects that Superman had taken Batman’s place #that night has quite an interesting story #with several highlights like #Jack taking out half a block of electricity with a batarang #jack messing up his grapple twice #several walls suddenly gaining a Fenton sized hole #and Jack unleashing a whole pack of eco-weenies on several thugs #all while the batfam is desperately trying to find Jack and save their dad at the same time #jack actually does save Bruce and bridal carries him throughout Gotham before leaving him on roof of the gala #writing prompt #dp x dc #I kept most of the Fenton family as vague as I could so you guys could make your own conclusions #why was Jack at the gala? Why it was to honor him of course #he has just changed the game for clean energy #and blew the entire secrecy around GIW while he was at it #writing prompts

3K notes · View notes

bet-on-me-13 · 8 months

Text

Danny is Diana's Big Brother (and annoys the hell out of her)

So!

Danny decided to reveal himself to his Parents one day, and it didn't go well. Thankfully, Jazz managed to get him out of the Lab and they fled into the Ghost Zone, destroying the Portal behind them.

They seek refuge with some of their friends, and after a while they find a permanent home with Pandora in the Ancient Greek Sector. She found them while they were wandering the Zone in search of a place to sleep and happily took them in.

Danny also finds out that he is the new Ghost Prince after an incident where Fright Knight almost kills Skulker for "Daring to attack the Prince!"

So life is getting better for Danny. But he soon finds out that as the Ghost Prince, he needs a Parent to take over until he comes of Age. And he doesn't really have parents anymore.

He tries to set up Jazz as his Legal Guardian, but since she is his sister (and a newly forming Halfa, therefore also too young) she doesn't count.

Thankfully, he had the perfect candidate right there with Pandora! And she happily adopted them, she was basically already acting like their new Mom anyways, do it wasn't that much of a change. All she needs to do is keep the peace for a few decades until Danny reaches the Legal Ghost Age. (100 yrs old)

And of course, since he was adopted by Pandora he wants to learn about her Culture! So he asks her to take him on a trip to her Home Dimension and Home Country to learn about it.

So they head off to Themyscira.

And since Danny is technically Royalty, Not a Human Man, and the adopted son of Pandora (one of their greatest heroes of the past) he is tentatively allowed to visit the Island.

(Also, Danny can shapeshift, so it wouldn't be too big of a problem if he wanted to)

While there he meets Pandora's sister, Hippolyta, and her newly born Daughter, Diana.

Danny instantly decides that Diana is his new Little Sister.

And he also decides to indulge in all of the Big Brother Urges he has never been able to get away with with Ellie, and annoys the hell out of her in a way only big brothers can manage.

He teases her in front of her friends, pranks her occasionally, has play fights with her that end with a Forest being wiped off the map, and generally annoys the hell out of her.

But he also does all the good brother things like protect her from bullies, gives her wise advice, comfort her when she feels sad, and even helps comb her hair (she realized that he thrives on domestic stuff, since he never got to appreciate it when he was a kid)

He also introduces Diana to Jazz, and they get on like a house on fire! Unfortunately, Diana found out that Jazz can actually reign in Danny whenever he gets too overbearing and weaponizes this to great effect.

Ellie too, although they are hence banned from ever hanging out without supervision ever again (the observants couldn't walk right for a decade after that incident)

They go on like this for a few centuries, even after Danny takes up the Throne and has less time to hang out with her.

But Diana still loves her big brother, annoyances and all. Still, she will absolutely never let him know about the League. She wouldn't survive the embarrassment.

...

Wait, who did this Cult just say they were summoning?

991 notes · View notes

thespineoftherighteous · 2 years

Text

Neil just reeks of the same energy as those fanfiction authors who casually leave the most batshit insane personal updates in the writer's notes

#Neil bursting into the lounge ten minutes late for a team meeting: sorry im late #everyone: all good?#Neil: yeah yeah my science lab blew up and they kept us to do all these emergency tests in case anyone was affected..whatve i missed coach?#or #Neil: *gets back to the dorm hella late*#the others: ???#Neil: oh i had to go to court. it took forever but they finally dropped the manslaughter charges #or like #after psu‚ one of the foxes texts him just to check in and he responds three days later like my bad i got a nasty hit last game and needed #to go to the hospital. i just got out tho what's up #aftg #neil josten #mine aftg #bangers

3K notes · View notes

spideypoolsupremacy · 1 year

Text

Remember when Spider-man and Deadpool were dads to this one powerful robot kid?

Ah fun times

#just look at Peter's face #he's so disapointed #while Wade is so excited #i love them #for context Matrix just blew up a lot of villains #spideypool #spider-man #deadpool #wade wilson #peter parker #master matrix

2K notes · View notes

phantom-0-writer · 7 months

Text

*standing menacingly at the door* i made u something

anyways lol. i had a lot of school work and was really busy freaking out and stress studying for a singular test that was 4 questions and would be over in like an hour and then i proceeded to cry about it in my car for various reasons.

but yk what that means!

time for our irregular and unscheduled update of

Gotham Academy's Mentorship Program

this episode featuring a fan favorite: Duke Thomas (aka The Signal - but thats kind of irrelevant for this)

you were supposed to read that like it was from a '90s sitcom and the off screen crowd cheers rly loudly.

some house keeping updates: this scene happens in the beginning of the school year (going by the american system should be september) danny meets damian (and upsurges tim on the same day) around midterm which is around october and then the stuff with jason and damian's drawing happens around december. i kinda accidentally burned the irl timeline for anything dc first scene so now im just gonna do whatever i want.

anyways with out further ado:

table of contents

scene 04: after school activities for normal kids

Duke stood around the corner of the classroom awkwardly, wondering if he had made the right call. Sure the bats and the birds had a plethora of hands on deck any time, but most of them specialized as night time heros. Not to say that they were incompetent or anything, they were some of the most skilled and innovative people Duke had ever had the pleasure of meeting. Sure if anything happened, they could handle it, at least until Duke could slip away and show up as the Signal- Alfred and Bruce had assured him so much. But Duke couldn’t slip the guilt of busying away more of his time to after school activities when he could be patrolling or studying instead,

But Duke had wanted to do something outside of those things, which was specifically why he had made the difficult decision to join a few clubs and after school activities. He could use a break from being surrounded by people who worked the vigilante life-style just to remember how to be a normal civilian. Let himself take a break from constantly be consumed by one case or another, one disaster or another, not being able to do enough no matter how much he tried or how much time he spent patrolling.

Duke needed to feel grounded, like his feet were on the ground and he could press the brakes and smell the fragrance of life. Even if the fragrance was a forgotten pile of dog s-

“Alright,” The instructor for their culinary club started with a weird German accent that sounded really fake. “I am Herman. You can call me Chef or Chef Herman or just Chef. I will not bore you all with the boring introductions, and let's head right into the cooking, yes. On this paper here I made the partners for all of you to cook with for the rest of the year. If you have problem with it then quit.”

This Herman guy seemed like quite the character, and was definitely not helping any of Duke’s previous anxieties. Many of Duke’s clubmates seem to think so too, sending their friends various looks. But no one spoke out, and instead shuffled to the front to look at the singular sheet of paper that would assign them their partners. Duke finally made it to the front and saw that he was paired with a Daniel Fenton at Station 7.

Crossing his fingers that Daniel had at least only a half-rotten personality, Duke made his way over to station 7. The station was already prepped with an assortment of ingredients and cooking equipment. Duke had already set his stuff down claiming the seat closer to the exit (in case) when a lanky kid comes over, “Uh, your Duke Thomas?” He asks hesitantly looking back at the front counter the partner assignment sheet was.

It took Duke an awkward second longer to realize that this kid was probably his partner. “Oh yeah I am.” He laughed apologetically, “You must be Daniel.”

“Danny’s fine.” The boy smiled, absentmindedly brushing his messy black hair out of his face, his glacier blue looking at the equipment. Duke couldn’t help but feel like there was something off about Danny. Not in Gotham’s usual psycho-maniac-out-to-terrorizer-the-city-and-kill-innocent-people kind of off, more in a he’s not in sync with the rest of the world off. While Chef Herman explained the general structure of various types of kitchen and kitchen hierarchy that Duke was already familiar with, Duke tried to get a read on him.

Weird did not mean threat, after all many of the Justice League- heck even the local Wayne/Batclan were pretty weird- and they (usually) didn’t mean any harm. It wouldn’t be fair of Duke to jump the horse like that.

Deciding he should try to be friendly with him, Duke leaned over, “Is it just me or is Chef Herman’s accent totally fake?” he whispered.

“Oh, Ancients,” Anciets? “I thought I was just going insane.” Danny sighed in relief with a small chuckle. There was a moment of silence between the two of them where no one said anything for longer than socially acceptable and Duke debated using his powers to see if he could find a clue or something. That seemed kinda invasive, though.

When the Chef had started instructions on making today's recipe, Chocolate Chip Cookies, Danny helped Duke measure out the ingredients. “So,” Danny tried again, “What are you in for?”

“What am I…” Duke repeated confused,

Danny chuckled awkwardly, “Like why you joined the club.”

Duke seriously needed to get his head in the present; this was getting embarrassing. “Oh.” He nodded in understanding, “I’ve always liked cooking,” Duke shrugged, “When I was little my parents and I would always cook together, and it was always one of my favorite things to do. And I’ve kinda always liked it, but I fell off of it for a while with school and stuff,” emphasis on the stuff “I thought joining a club could help me get back into it and get away from… everything.” That was a little more candid than Duke had planned on being with someone he had met quite literally a few minutes ago, but it felt good to have that out of his chest. The pleasant memories of his parents swimming in his mind. Mixing the dry ingredients, “Sorry that was kind of a lot.” Duke laughed genuinely this time.

“Dude, no it’s actually so cool that you like to cook.” Danny said admiration was easy on his face, and Duke couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed.

“What about you, then?”

“Ugh,” He groaned jokingly, “You can’t seriously be asking for my lame ass reason after you pulled out the flashbacks.” Danny whined, letting the oven preheat like Chef told them to.

“C’mon, it’s only fair.” Duke played along, already ahead of the other groups.

Danny sighed, “Promise you won’t laugh.”

“Okay, it can’t be that bad.” Duke could already feel the smile cracking on his face.

“It is.” Danny drawlled, “So I live in the dorms right, and I got to pull some strings and room with one of my friends from back home this year. And well, let’s just say my family has a bit of a reputation for causing problems, and the kitchen definitely wasn’t an exception. One time my dad tried to make some soup for my mom because she got sick.” Duke nodded approvingly, that was a sweet gesture, “It was all fun and games until the bomb squad had to show up and long story short we had to move.”

“You’re joking.” Duke gaped at the bizarre story, but at Danny’s solemn expression, Duke couldn’t help but be appalled, “A bomb squad over soup.”

“My parents were never really heavy on lab safety,” Danny added, as if that explained everything, “But I burn one pot of water and maybe make a few extra-crispy eggs, and suddenly its all ‘Danny you’re not allowed in the kitchen unless you start taking actual classes’ and ‘Danny that's a biohazard’.”

“You burned a pot of water.” Duke echoed, Danny nodded innocently, “Water doesn’t burn.”

“Well, maybe you’re just not trying hard enough.” Danny sneered, trying to crack an egg on the corner of the bowl only for all the shell to fall in the bowl and the yolk on the counter.

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s true.” Duke said, taking the bowl from him and expertly cracking an egg single handedly. Danny looked on in awe. “You said you live in the dorms?” Duke asked easily.

“Oh yeah, all of the non-local scholarship kids have to.”

Before Duke could respond, a girl from the station in front of them whips her head around, “You said you’re here on a scholarship?” She asked almost oppressively.

Danny just as taken aback as Duke felt, “Uh, yeah.”

“Me, too. Have you heard anything about the Mentorship Program here? Apparently we all have to join.” The girl’s partner was looking between Duke and Danny confused, but returned to their cooking uninterested.

“Oh, yeah. They make us all join.” Danny nodded.

“I heard from some of the older kids, that no one actually gets picked for that. It’s just like a weird formality thing.” The girl spoke animatedly, “What department are you in?”

“Applied physics and engineering design.” The oven beeps that it was ready but no one moved.

The girl seemed to deflate that answer, “Oh, I’m doing culinary science.” And with that solid conclusionary statement, she turned around and got back to her work station.

Danny blinked, processing what just happened and slowly turning to look at Duke for proof that just happened. But the second the both of them met each other’s eyes, they burst into a fit of silent laughter.

Bent vunuralably over the table, trying to catch their breath, they were accosted by Chef Hermon. “The two of you are having a comedy club, not a cooking club.” Chef crossed his arms at the edge of the table. Duke was pretty sure he was trying to sold them, but the fake accent was making it hard to tell.

Danny cleared his throat and striated up, “Sorry, Sir.” He apologized quickly.

“Chef.” Hermon peered at them, his hat looking comically large and lopsided on his head now that Duke was getting a closer look.

“Sorry, Chef.” Duke amended, trying to keep his cool.

“Yes, finish cooking your cookies.” He nodded satisfied, leaving their station.

“Okay so,” Duke tried to recount what the last thing they did was, but one look at Danny trying desperately to hold in his laugh had ruined all of Duke’s efforts as well. Barely managing to get their cookies in the oven, over Chef’s fake german accent and floppy oversized chef’s hat.

“So scholarship for applied physics and engineering design, huh.” Duke recounted from earlier, impressed.

“Yeah…” Danny trailed off embarrassed, “It sounds kinda snotty.”

“Dude. That’s literally one of the hardest departments to get into, and the scholarship is no sneeze either. There’s no doubt you worked your butt off to get that.” Duke assured Danny as they sat in their stools waiting for the cookies to finish.

“Thanks,” Danny smiled sheepishly. They sat in a much more comfortable silence now before Danny spoke again, “What grade are you in by the way?”

“I’m in 10th. General studies for now, but I was thinking of doing medicine. You?”

“I could totally see you as a hot-shot doctor.” Danny nodded approvingly, “11th. Technically, I’m your upperclassman then.”

“Technically?” Duke asked.

“I mean, how old are you?”

“15.” Duke supplied confused.

“Me too. I skipped a grade in elementary school, so we’re actually the same age.” Danny explained, sheepishly.

“Dude, you're actually way smart.” Duke gaped in awe.

“Hey medicine isn’t a day walk either.” Danny nudged his arm playfully, “I’m glad the mentorship thing is just for show, though. Now that we’re upperclassmen, y’know. I would not want my hands full with some random rich kid.”

Duke laughed, “Yeah, that definitely sounds like a lot of work.”

Easily unfolding the conversation into various topics and interests Duke found that he didn’t mind that the cookies were burnt. Or that Danny was definitely weird. But in a good way. Duke was glad they met and would get to hang out and cook with their weird not-German Chef every week. And if Danny and Duke exchanged numbers and planned to hangout outside of club activities, then well who was going to stop them.

#a little fluff to make our day better #duke and danny #the world definitely needs more of them #they start off a little shaky but their bffs at the end #danny heard the chef's weird accent and thought it was bc of time travel shenanigans and decided it was just best not to comment on that #duke will def be rubbing his friendship with danny in the other bat's faces once he gets indoctrinated #jack blew up his house over chicken noodle soup and no one lets him live it down #Gotham Academy's Mentorship Program #dpxdc #dp x dc au #batpham #danny phantom #duke thomas #signal #phantom

396 notes · View notes

anonymous-dentist · 1 month

Text

Or: In a world where everybody has a superpower, Roier doesn't seem to have one

For day five of @smallchaoscryptid's Spiderbit Week- Superheroes/Blood

Cellbit's dreams are always dark. They start with him in his childhood bedroom, and then they move him down to the kitchen his parents died in, and then they end with him under the bridge. The sounds are muffled, but he can still understand what's being said, and it's always: "It's your fault."

Because it is.

He's had the same dreams since the night his parents died.

Every.

Goddamn.

Night.

But, well. He deserves it. The darkness surrounding the edges of his dream blurs out the unimportant details, like the face of the little girl who was sitting at the kitchen table when Cellbit's parents died, or the view outside of his bedroom window.

But the darkness hides something else- and this is a recent development, and he really doesn't understand it. Because, just out of view, is a figure in all black with eyes that glow white and claws that tear through Cellbit's dreams like they're paper.

He doesn't know who, or what, this thing is, but he does know a few things about it:

The creature destroys Cellbit's nightmares, sending his subconscious tumbling into a much happier dream- one that he can never remember when he wakes up

The creature tries to talk to him every time, but the fangs in its mouth are so large that it just can't

The creature seems to grow taller and stronger with every nightmare it destroys.

The creature is scared of Cellbit's husband

Now, yeah, sure, the creature can't talk, but Cellbit doesn't need to hear someone speak to know what they're afraid of. That's his superpower: fear. He can look at someone and hear what they're scared of, and he can make them scared, and it's horrible and he's a monster and he deserves to-

Cellbit gasps his way into full consciousness. He stares at the ceiling, chest heaving, brain loud and annoying and and and and-

"Gatinho?" Roier murmurs, curled up by Cellbit's side with his head pillowed on Cellbit's chest. He wraps an arm around Cellbit's middle and squirms closer, somehow, he's so clingy.

"Está bem," Cellbit breaths. "Just... just thinking."

"Well, don't," Roier grumbles. "Your brain is loud. Sleep, pendejo."

As if on command, Cellbit's eyelids droop. Roier always has this effect on him; he's just so comforting. He's a living, breathing weighted blanket, and Cellbit loves him so fucking much.

Soon enough, he's asleep again, and he's face-to-face with the creature again.

The creature tries to speak, but no noise comes out.

It flexes its claws as Dream Cellbit starts the walk downstairs to the kitchen.

The dream is shredded, and Cellbit finds himself face-to-face with-

Roier and Cellbit have been married for almost one whole entire wonderful year. He's known Roier for one and a half years, and he's been out of prison for two years.

Roier knows about the creature in Cellbit's dreams, even if Cellbit hasn't told him what his dreams actually are. Roier's been trying to come up with a name for it for months now, but Cellbit doesn't really know what to think of that considering the creature is literally invading his brain every night.

"It's kind of sweet, though, right?" Roier asks.

Cellbit wrinkles his nose and jabs his chopsticks down into his rice.

Dinner tonight is Chinese takeout because Roier's tired from work and Cellbit is tired from existing. It's good, but kind of bland. Since they changed ownership and ended up under the Federation of Heroes' official branding, the food has gone downhill. Yet another thing that Cucurucho has ruined, ugh.

"I mean, maybe?" Cellbit replies. "It's kind of freaky."

"I don't know, it kind of sounds cute."

Cellbit gives Roier a flat look; Roier just grins and steals some chicken from his plate.

"It's destroying my dreams," Cellbit says. "That doesn't sound 'cute' to me."

"Yeah, but doesn't it give you different dreams?" Roier asks. "I think it's trying to help."

"Yeah, or it's trying to kill me."

Roier's shoulders tighten. "Do you think so?"

It's always hard to pick up Roier's fears, but Cellbit can often just guess them even without using his powers. Like, he knows that Roier is just scared enough of bears to refuse to go camping anywhere without a cabin for him to stay him. He and Cellbit are both terrified of losing each other, and they're even more scared of losing their kids.

God, Cellbit is so stupid. He doesn't need to be worrying Roier with this, he already freaks out enough when Cellbit ends up caught in the middle of one of the Federation's hero fights due to his abysmally terrible luck.

His face falls. He places his chopsticks down and reaches across the table and takes Roier's hand in his.

"It'll be fine," he tells Roier. "If it tries to kill me, I'll just... wake up."

"If it tries to kill you, I'll kick its ass," Roier swears.

He squeezes Cellbit's hand once and offers a lackluster smile.

Cellbit's heart twists in his chest. Oh, Roier...

The night's dream starts as usual:

Cellbit opens his eyes to find himself in his childhood bedroom in his childhood body. There aren't any bloodstains on his clothes yet, though that'll change soon enough.

He tries looking out the window, but that isn't what he did that night, so anything beyond the window is covered by the darkness.

There's a growl, and then the creature forms in the shadows near Cellbit's bed. (There are always two beds in his room, but why?)

"What do you want?" Cellbit tries to ask, but that isn't what he did that night.

Instead, and in a squeaky childish voice, he groans and shouts, "This sucks! I can't figure it out!"

He's at his desk. In front of him are multiplication tables he's supposed to be doing for homework, and they're easy enough that Adult Cellbit could do them now, but that isn't what happened that night. So the problems look like random lines and squiggles, and Cellbit's chest hurts, and he can't breathe, and-

"I can't do this!" he shouts, jumping off of his chair and pulling his homework with him. "Mãe!"

He reaches his door, has his hand on the handle, and then... there's the creature by his side shredding the door into pieces with its claws.

Cellbit blinks, and he's an adult again, and he's in a different dream, and he turns to the side and he's face-to-face with-

Roier is one of the few people Cellbit has ever heard of that doesn't have a superpower. He seems happy enough without one, but... but Cellbit thinks that he's lying. He isn't angry that Roier is lying, though. No, he understands, because he himself lied about not having powers until they'd been dating for six months.

In the back of his mind, Cellbit has a few ideas of what Roier's secret superpower could be. The only one he says out loud is, "I know what your power is. You're super handsome!"

But, in order, it goes:

Extreme endurance (evidence: goes for long runs every morning and ends up back in bed sweating and tired by the time Cellbit wakes up)

Can always cook the perfect meal (evidence: he's just really good at cooking)

Comfort aura (evidence: Cellbit always feels happy and cozy and safe when Roier is around)

Super strength (evidence: he's really strong)

But, well. None of those quite work, mostly because the majority of them are just early excuses for thinking Roier was attractive back before they started dating.

Tonight as Cellbit brushes his teeth and gets ready for bed, he thinks up a new idea:

Vocal projection (evidence: he's loud as fuck when he's singing in the shower)

Because, yes, Roier is, indeed, in the shower, and he's singing very loudly. But, really, Cellbit wouldn't have him any other way. He's perfect.

"Hey, guapito," Cellbit says after rinsing his mouth out. "I need your help with something?"

Roier cuts his song off with an irritated groan. "Now? I was almost to the chorus!"

"Desculpe. But you're better at naming things than I am, and I need help coming up with something to call the creature in my dream diary."

"You have a dream diary?"

"I'm starting it tonight. I'm going to figure this thing out."

"That's cute!"

Cellbit can see Roier's silhouette shaking with silent laughter through the shower curtain. Wordlessly, he opens the curtain so he can take the shower head down and spray Roier with it.

"It's serious," Cellbit says, ignoring Roier's screeching protests. "I think it's messing with my head."

"Put that down- vete a la verga, fuck!"

Roier bats at Cellbit's hands until Cellbit lowers the shower head.

And then Roier yanks the shower head away from him and sprays him with it.

"Pendejo!" Cellbit shouts. (Not the best swear word, but it's all he could come up with on such short notice.)

He skitters away from the shower and looks, horrified, down at his soaking wet pajamas.

"Whoops," Roier plainly says. "Guess you'll just have to sleep naked tonight."

He grins, and Cellbit hates him. He wants to kiss him soooo badly!

So he does, and it's nice.

A few minutes later as they crawl into bed, Roier says, "Hey. I have a name for your monster."

Cellbit looks at him. "Yeah?"

"Call it Venom. It's, like, dissolving your dreams, right? Like poison?"

Brain poison, hmm.

Cellbit grabs his brand new dream journal off of his bedside table and opens it. Right on the first page is a long, detailed description of his dream. Right below it is a description of the creature as well as a really messy drawing.

'Venom', he writes.

...What a specific descriptoin. "Dissolving your dreams", not quite how Cellbit has been describing it.

He glances at Roier out of the corner of his eye.

Hm.

The first part of the dream goes normally.

And then Cellbit is downstairs at the kitchen table with his parents. There's also a girl there, but Cellbit hadn't looked at her face that night, so she doesn't have one now.

"I can't do it," Cellbit whines. He balls his hands into fists and fights the urge to smash his own face into the table.

"You can," his father insists. "You're a smart kid! Why don't we take a break."

He gets up from the table and goes to cut some watermelon.

Cellbit knows what's about to happen next. But he can't close his eyes, because his eyes were open that night.

"Let's try one more time, okay?" his mother asks.

He sniffles and nods.

He looks down at the problems. He can't understand him, he's so stupid. He's so stupid! Why can't he be like [her]?! She's good at math. She's even finished her homework.

His vision starts to blur. He can't see. He can't- he can't breathe oh fuck he can't breathe why can't he breathe what why can't he

A scream.

He looks up and watches his father finish plunging his watermelon-cutting knife into his own stomach.

"Pai!?" the girl screeches.

"I can't do it," Cellbit's mother whispers. "I'm a failure. I can't do it."

She wrestles Cellbit's pencil from his hand and raises it to her eye and-

Cellbit gasps as a clawed hand rips the table into pieces in front of him.

As the dream shifts and as his body turns back into his own, he's pulled by the creature- by Venom- into a loose hug. Its claws dig into his back, but they don't hurt.

He looks up, and he finds himself face-to-face with-

Roier was the first person that Cellbit let himself get attached to after he was released from prison.

He'd met Roier by pure chance, and it was love at first sight. He was just so... and he's still so...

"Does this dress make my ass look big?" Roier asks, posing in front of Cellbit in a way that most people would probably call sexy.

...perfect.

They'd met at their mutual friend, Maxo's, club. Roier wasn't on the pole that night, he was instead working the bar, and he and Cellbit hit it off immediately.

The next time Cellbit had been gone, Roier wasn't there, but his 'cousin' was. Melissa, according to Roier, owns half of the club.

And then, seven months later while rummaging through Roier's closet looking for a hoodie to steal, Cellbit had seen one of Melissa's dresses, and, well. Cellbit isn't stupid, okay? But he hadn't said anything because he didn't want to break Roier's trust, and he lives by that idea even now almost two years after their marriage.

If Roier wants to tell him something, he will. It isn't Cellbit's place to push.

Cellbit checks out Roier's ass appreciatively.

"Everything you wear makes your butt look big," he replies.

Roier nods and smiles, more than content with that answer, and he goes to the other side of his dressing room to start putting his makeup on.

Cellbit tries to make it to every one of "Melissa's" shows. He's a good husband, he wants to support Roier in everything he does.

...And he can't sleep anymore unless he has Roier by his side. Does that make him clingy?

He yawns, anyway, and he leans back and slumps in his chair. He might move to the dressing room's sofa, he's exhausted. (He might not be able to sleep without Roier, but he can rest his eyes, at least.)

"Is it okay if I stay back here?" he asks. "I need to lay down."

Roier glances at him through his mirror, concern lining his face. "Are you okay?"

Cellbit waves his concerns aside. "I'm just a little tired. I don't think I'm going to fall asleep, but I don't want to accidentally pass out during your show. That would be bad for business."

Roier's eyebrows furrow, just slightly. "Are you sure?"

"I mean, if it's okay-"

"No!" Roier cuts him off so quickly that he even seems to surprise himself. "I mean. It's okay, but you might not be comfortable. I can try and find you a pillow?"

His voice is shaking, just slightly. Hm.

"Nah, I'm good," Cellbit replies. He shrugs his jacket off and balls it up in his arms. "I've slept in worse places before."

"If- if you're sure, then go ahead."

Something feels... off. Maybe it's just because Cellbit is tired, but something is just. Weird.

But Roier eventually leaves the dressing room, though not without giving Cellbit a big fat messy lipstick-covered kiss on the lips.

Cellbit moves to the sofa, and he pillows his head on his jacket, and he closes his eyes, and he... he falls asleep. Just barely, because his dream is a faded memory around him, but. But.

But Venom isn't there.

The third stage of the dream is the coldest. It gnaws at Cellbit's brain, because it was the middle of January when his parents died. He was alone and under the bridge and covered in blood and absolutely freezing.

The dream doesn't ever go on past the bridge. He always just sits there shivering until he wakes up unless Venom shows up.

So he sits, and he shivers, and he waits to wake up. His body is crying, and the tears are freezing to his cheeks. He can't breathe. He can't stop thinking of... of... fuck, who is that girl? The one who chased Cellbit out of the house. The one with no face but the same voice as him.

A police car speeds over the bridge above him. It's going to his house, he knows this. The morning after the bridge, he snuck back towards his house, and the police car was still there. So was the girl. So were his parents bodies, wrapped in sheets and being carried to a Federation-white van.

He's a mistake. [She] was always better than him. [She] never hurt anybody. It isn't fair!

He sobs and buries his face in his knees. He won't sleep tonight, Cellbit remembers staying up all night because he couldn't close his eyes without seeing his parents die in front of him, and he still can't close his eyes without seeing it.

"I'm a monster," he whimpers, the first time he'd ever spoken those words, but not the last. (Later, he would try to embrace them and become the monster the media labeled him as, but it didn't help.)

There's a snarl above him, and then there's Venom standing above him with its fangs bared.

"I-" Cellbit chokes, forced to repeat what he'd said all those years ago. "I need to turn myself in. I have to!"

He stands. Venom moves to block him, grabbing onto his shoulders and holding him in place.

"There have to be healer heroes," Cellbit reasons. "They can fix them."

(They can't, and they won't.)

If possible, Venom looks distraught. The darkness wavers around it, and that's when Cellbit realizes that this is the closest they've really gotten to each other. This close, he can almost make out a face hidden behind Venom's teeth, buried deep within its mouth. But it's too dark, but if he looks hard enough...

Venom steps back, and he tears the bridge apart, and Cellbit finds himself face-to-face with-

Roier is cooking dinner tonight, and it smells wonderful. Of course it does, Roier's the one cooking it. Everything he cooks is wonderful, because he's wonderful.

Cellbit sits at the table watching. The kids are all in the other room doing homework, and it's almost peaceful.

Roier slips with the spatula and drops it into the pan. He swears and scoops it out and swears again as the oil inside burns him.

Again, almost peaceful.

Cellbit swiftly stands from his chair and goes to help Roier.

"Here, let me-"

Roier lightly smacks his hand. "Não, não. Go away."

"Mmm, what if I wanna stay with you?"

He slips an arm around Roier's waist and snuggles up against his back. He rests his chin on Roier's shoulder and watches a beautiful smile spread across Roier's face.

"I guess it's fine," Roier sighs, playing up the theatrics. "I guess."

And then it's peaceful once more. Cellbit watches Roier cook, and he pays special attention to Roier's biceps. (Sue him, his husband is hot.)

But then, in the other room, Richarlyson starts shouting:

"This is stupid!"

"Calm down," Bobby drawls. "It's just multiplication, let me see-"

"No, I can do it!"

Cellbit tenses. Roier doesn't seem to notice, and that's fine. It's nothing for either of them to worry about.

"You've literally been working on that for hours," Bobby argues. "Let me see."

"Não!"

Quietly, Pepito pipes up with, "I wanna see!"

"No!" Richarlyson yells. "I can- I can do it!"

"Let me see," Pepito pleads.

(Cellbit can't see.)

"Fuck you, give me the homework," Bobby snaps.

"Fuck you, it's mine!" Richarlyson exclaims.

(Cellbit can't breathe.)

"You literally can't even do it," Bobby mocks. "Give it."

(Cellbit can't-)

The world dissolves around him, and all he can see is his father's body sprawled across the floor and his mother across from him still muttering about how useless she is as he still muttered about how useless he is and he's both 26 years old and eight and he can't breathe and and and and and-

"Cellbit!" he hears. Two warm, gentle hands settle on his cheeks, and he blinks, and he's in his own kitchen. With his husband. Crying.

"It's fine," Roier whispers. He presses his forehead against Cellbit's, eyes slipping shut. "It isn't going to happen again. You're fine. They're fine. It's fine."

Cellbit blinks. The kitchen sounds miles and miles away, but he still heard that, and he knows for certain that he not once has told anybody about the night he killed his parents.

He swallows, fresh tears stinging at his eyes. "What isn't going to happen again?"

Roier tenses, but he doesn't move. His eyes squeeze even further shut, but he doesn't move. His mouth narrows into a pencil-thin line, but he doesn't move.

Cellbit can barely feel his hands, but he still moves his arms to hold Roier around the middle. The kids are still fighting in the background, but... but he can't handle them right now.

In a minute.

"Do we have to talk about it?" Roier hesitantly asks.

Cellbit's answer is immediate: "No. Just... sorry. I'm sorry."

Roier's brow furrows. "'Sorry'? Sorry for what, eh?"

"You shouldn't have to see all... all that. I don't even want to talk about it, but-"

"No, shut up. I'm sorry for sneaking into your dreams every night. It kinda just happens, I don't control it, but... it happened, and you were so sad, and I wanted to help."

Cellbit smiles faintly. His own eyes slip shut, and he can almost not see the bodies this time.

"You do help," he responds. "You help more than you could ever imagine, even outside of the dreams."

He tips his head up to kiss Roier, soft and brief and gentle.

Against Cellbit's lips, Roier mutters, "I can stop."

Cellbit shakes his head. "Don't worry about it. Now that I know it's you, I can stop freaking out about a buff scary monster guy haunting me."

Roier huffs out a quiet laugh. "I can try and be less scary, but I don't control that, either."

"It's still you. Just... God, does this make me a monsterfucker?"

Roier's laugh is much louder this time. He bites Cellbit's bottom lip before pulling back.

Cellbit's eyes open, and he looks into Roier's, and he can see the love in them, and he can feel the love in his own.

God-damn, how did he get this lucky?

"Who are you calling a monster?" Roier demands. He pinches Cellbit's side and turns back to the stove. "Fuck you, sleep alone tonight. I don't even care."

Cellbit smiles and invades his husband's space once more. He hooks his chin over Roier's shoulder, and he sighs against Roier's cheek.

"Te amo," he says. He presses a chaste kiss to the side of Roier's jaw.

Roier's ears turn red, but his face betrays no emotion.

"Your breath smells," he says, a smile teasing at his own lips. "Go brush your teeth before we eat."

Cellbit rolls his eyes, but he leaves to go do as he's told if only to try and finish panicking on his own and try and calm down before dinner.

He passes through the living room, and he sees Bobby at the table helping Richarlyson with his homework.

Some things do change, after all.

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#guapoduo #spiderbit #here's a bit of a weird one #i'm playing fast and loose with 'superheroes' here lol #this is such a weird au i love it #basically: roier has some kind of sleep control! he can enter dreams and change them #but he always looks scary because he himself thinks he's scary for being able to do that #this is inspired by roier's old dream stream with bobby and tilin where they blew up the server

178 notes · View notes