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#this prompt is a year old
confessedlyfannish · 8 months
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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."
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greenglowinspooks · 7 months
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The way that I’m brainrotting over a DCxDP crossover with a Danny who’s a vengeful villain rn
Like, let’s just say that the GiW finally get into contact with the JL. They need help neutralizing a threat, you see, and they’re on their last limb trying to keep civilians safe.
They have video evidence! They have studies to back their claims! The JL have to help them!
Unfortunately, the JL believe them. They join a fight against Danny, and defeat him due to being far more experienced than he is. Danny is locked away and experimented on by the GiW.
That would CHANGE a person. Your heroes turning against you and seeing you as a monster, being experimented on for who knows how long, not knowing if your friends and family are safe.
Danny gets out due to a simple mistake on the GiW’s part; having Blüdhaven as part of their transport route.
Of course the trucks were attacked, they’re government property!
So now, whoever decided to raid the government transport trucks (the Penguin or something) has a ton of experimental weapons with no idea how they work, and a heavily traumatized teenager.
Danny knows how they work. Danny can be useful! They won’t throw him out if he’s useful! And so, now Danny is working for the Penguin, altering the ectoplasm weapons to make them work on humans.
It’s a good deal for both parties. Danny gets to neurotically imprint on the Penguin like a small baby animal, and the Penguin gets a brilliant mind who will stop at nothing to achieve his goals.
But eventually, Danny finds out what happened to his family in his absence.
Jazz is in Arkham. Not as a psychologist, but as a “patient.” Apparently, she snapped and completely destroyed the house, leveled a few blocks of Amity Park, and conducted organized attacks on government bases (mostly GiW) for months.
Sam and Tucker helped her, eventually splitting once Jazz was captured. Sam travels to areas of extreme pollution, completely overgrowing them with her plant powers. Currently she’s in the Amazon rainforest, engaging in an ongoing feud with logging companies. Sam is winning.
Tucker faked his death, and Danny has no idea where he is. He only knows that the death wasn’t real because of a code that the three of them made together, just in case.
Ellie’s trapped in the Infinite Realms. Danny had a failsafe in place so that if she was ever cornered by the GiW, she would be sent to her haunt in the GZ. However, with the portal destroyed, she can’t come back. Danny just hopes she’s okay.
His parents are now top GiW scientists. They’re traveling the country giving speeches. They’re working on a battery powered by ectoplasm, but apparently started “having difficulties” around the same time that Danny escaped.
None of it is fair. None of it is right.
The Justice League destroyed his life, the lives of his friends, and they’re doing as good as ever. The GiW is respected, and his parents are happily working away for them.
Danny takes up some of his more experimental weapons and breaks Jazz out of Arkham. She’s a little different now, colder and more quiet, but she still loves him all the same. It’s an unimaginable comfort to him to see his sister again.
He can’t use his powers anymore. He’s so used to associating them with pain that even transforming into his ghost form is enough to take him down for hours.
However, he understands ectoplasm more than anyone else in the world. He knows how to use it in virtually everything; how it can become a weapon, how it can be used as a supplemental ingredient in poisons and nerve agents, how it can twist and distort the mind if applied correctly.
He doesn’t care what happens to him. He’s going to take down the GiW, and destroy the lives of the JL members who helped lock him away, just as they did to him.
No matter the cost.
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hypewinter · 7 months
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The Wayne's couldn't help but stare in disbelief as they watched their youngest spoon feed a toddler. Before anyone could even say anything, Damian turned to them.
"He ran into me while being chased after some men in lad coats. I dispatched them and took the boy in after he refused to stop clinging to me. Congratulations Father, you are a grandfather now," he said. Then he turned back to the toddler and continued feeding him.
Everyone proceeded to turn to Bruce, who looked like he was a second away from a heart attack. Welp, looks like it was time to see who the favorite uncle/aunt was.
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As it turns out, Danny makes a pretty good leader. His little gang of homeless children has grown immensely, both from picking up strays and from assimilating other gangs into his group.
Danny might only be 10 and still figuring out his powers but dang, intangibility and flight are over powered even before you add invisibility and laser blasts. At first he regretted sneaking into the lab alone to check out the portal his parents made in this basement. Waking up in a cold alley in a city you've never heard of is a terrifying experience even without the corrupt cops trying to sell you into human trafficking, but finding out he had powers and could do whatever he wanted? That was great. It no longer mattered that adults didn't listen to him or chased him around. He could do anything now. Be anything. Take anything.
He and the people under his protection often robbed places, never banks or anything but high class restaurants and stores that usually wouldn't even let them in through the front doors. Yeah, Danny can admit most of thier robberies were because of grudges the other kids had because of how they were treated but Danny being ten thought this was fine.
The real issue was Gothams Paw Patrol (who absolutely hate being called that :3 ) they were always on thier case, Dannys especially. They kept insisting that the system could help them -Danny called bull. No one helped him or Jazz back in Amity and it was waaaay nicer that Gotham- and kept getting him and his fellow kids arrested. That didn't really matter. Anti-meta stuff never worked on him so getting himself the other kids out was no big deal.
After overhearing a conversation between Nightwing and one of the other bats a kid came into thier current secret base announcing that Nightwing was poor and the other bats weren't. This caught everyone attention. Appearently Nightwing was trying to establish himself outside of the colony cause he didn't get along great with whoever the bats super daddy was, which was fair. A lot of them were runaways for one reason or another and knew a bunch of reasons why you wouldn't want to except "free" money.
This led to them fetching Nightwings "wingdings" and batarangs instead of keeping them/selling them like they do with the others, sharing some of thier spoils with him like the groceries, jewelry, fancy clothes, ect that they stole.
Dick even catches one of the kids in his apartment in Bludhaven filling up his fridge which has him panicking about his secret id being compromised. Luckly the kids had only followed him there and didn't think to check who was on the lease or anything cause they assumed it would be a fake name or something.
Just Dick getting forcibly adopted by a child gang.
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puppetmaster13u · 3 months
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Prompt 225
Klarion is EXCITED. He's absolutely DELIGHTED even, unable to sit still as he flits from place to place. His baby cousin! Is! Visiting! Which OBVIOUSLY means he, as the older one, must make sure the main places are still standing so he can show his itty bitty baby cousin EVERYTHING! After all, he's never gotten to be the older one! He's always been the youngest in the family! But now he has an itty bitty toddler cousin- form recently shifted to match- to teach the ways of Chaos to! He's so EXCITED!
The League and heroes on the other hand, are Very concerned about Why the Witch Boy has been spotted in practically every major city in the US in the last few days. What is he planning?!
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noxcheshire · 7 months
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I kept thinking of little baby man Phantom and the potential of Danny being an actual baby of the Infinite Realms. However, he’s more snake teenager than itty bitty Little Baby Man edition, cause I think it’d be so funny to just — imagine this teenage snake curled up in a summoning circle, obviously having been taking a nap and looking up with his big green, sleepy eyes and Constantine just stares and freaks because, “THATS A WHOLE ASS BABY, PUT IT BACK!”
But they can’t because apparently the summoning was more of a ‘knock knock I’m a babysitter’ and Danny’s ghost parent decided that this was the perfect time to have some time for themselves if Heroes were so willing to take care of Danny for a little while.
Another take — mainly in reference to a different post about Klarion actually just being a toddler of the infinite realms with no ideas on how to human and thinks him fighting with heroes is just a play date — zooms into the human realm where the heroes are and just goes, “Hey I’m dropping my baby sibling onto you guys cause my dad got mad last time Danny got hurt by the humans I hang with. So here you go, I’ll pick him up later.”
A teenage snake Danny is dropped into a hero’s arms where he mainly grumbles and then shifts to better take a nap. Klarion drops the baby essentials at them with no further explanations other then “here’s their favorite blanket, if they get fussy taco them; here’s the baby milk make sure it’s -200 F, they have an ice core, etc.” and then just DISAPPEARS after leaving what amounts to a month old infant in human heroes care.
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darkeneddawning · 11 months
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Escaped clone au
You know all those fics where Danny and Damian are twins but everyone first assumes Danny must be a clone? How about an au where Danny is Damian's clone who escaped the League after he was assumed dead. Damian could even have been the one to have "killed" him, back when Danny was a newly created, fully brainwashed clone minion and trying to kill Damian himself.
Danny gets adopted by the Fentons and canon goes on as normal, until Dan. Witnessing what would happen to the world should he turn evil really drove home to Danny how dangerous he is.
Even if he was confident he could be trusted with his absurd amount of power (which he isn't), what if the League of Assassins found out about him? Does he still have programming triggers from his evil assassin clone conditioning?
So, Danny does the responsible thing: he goes to Batman to turn himself in.
Cue Danny showing up on Bruce's doorstep with ghost hunting equipment, intel on the afterlife, and an almost unbelievable backstory. Somehow he still managed to be more well-adjusted than Damian.
More thoughts under the read more
Here's how I'm thinking Danny leaving the League went down:
After surviving his wounds but failing his mission, Danny (then an unnamed potential Damian replacement) knew there was no point in returning to the League. As a failure, he was meant to be disposed of. He even thought of simply allowing himself to perish, since that was what the League would do.
But he couldn't help but feel as though that would be a waste of a resource. Surely he could be of more use to the League alive than dead?
That tiny bit of rebellious logic is what caused Danny to go into hiding, only living on based on the off chance he would find opportunities to further the League's goals. Obviously, that mentality didn't last long after being exposed to the real world and meeting one Jazz Fenton.
Being adopted by the Fentons was the best cover Danny could have asked for, since any odd behavior he couldn't hide while he was learning how to be "normal" was totally overshadowed by the sheer bizarre eccentricity of his new parents. He was still the neighborhood weird kid, but even that was a major upgrade from disposable tool, so Danny considered it a win.
Anyway, if anyone likes this idea, please feel free to have at it! Interpret it as you please :)
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madeline-kahn · 6 days
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@PSCENTRAL EVENT 27: SCENERY
A Filmic Tour of Hatfield House: the Marble Hall
The Favourite (2018) dir. Yorgos Lanthimos Shakespeare in Love (1998) dir. John Madden Enola Holmes (2020) dir. Henry Bradbeer Bridgerton (2020 - ) The Flash (2023) dir. Andy Muschietti Get Him to the Greek (2010) dir. Nicholas Stoller All The Money in the World (2017) dir. Ridley Scott Batman (1989) dir. Tim Burton Spider-Man: Far From Home (2019) dir. Jon Watts Orlando (1992) dir. Sally Potter Elizabeth: The Golden Age (2007) dir. Shekhar Kapur Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (2016) dir. Burr Steers Rebecca (2020) dir. Ben Wheatley
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the-witchhunter · 1 month
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DP x DC Camp
The Batfam force Damian to go to summer camp to socialize with kids his own age and have some normal childhood experiences
That’s all well and good, but normal does not describe his cabin’s councilor, one Daniel “for the love of Ancients call me Danny” Fenton
Between the son of the bat and a Fenton, camp is going to be weird
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ekingston · 15 days
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A chef!AU, maybe? In any case, a story in which Kara and Lena meet through one of them preparing/serving/etc food for the other and build their relationship based on that.
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(also on ao3.)
“I’m telling you, Alex. It’s her.”
At three pm on a Tuesday their restaurant is characteristically dead, save for the one lone customer Kara is spying on from behind the kitchen doors. The woman is perched, a little perilously, on a barstool at the counter. It’s the one that’s closest to their register, the one with the wobbly leg that Alex keeps telling Kara to fix. One of her red-soled heels is dangling from an impatiently bouncing left foot.
“This is the fourth time this week she’s come in here,” Kara says. “You don’t think that’s just a little bit suspicious?”
Alex shrugs, fully committed to her task of mincing onions. “Maybe she’s just a big fan of Italian food.”
“No way,” Kara says. “No woman who looks like that would put something in her mouth that wasn’t clearly marked gluten-free and vegan. Give me your phone.”
Alex rolls her eyes dramatically as she elbows it over. “Tell me again how you’re totally over Siobhan.”
“Oral sex isn’t a moral issue!” Kara takes a decisive breath while she unlocks her sister’s phone with practiced ease. “Whatever. Water under the bridge.”
“Uh-huh.”
“A love for pasta also doesn't explain why I heard this woman answer a call yesterday with a different name than the one that’s on her credit card,” Kara points out, before snapping a quick picture through the porthole window.
“Okay, now you’re being creepy,” Alex says.
“Shut up,” Kara tells her. “I’m texting Winn.”
Kara eyes the woman at the counter while she waits for his reply. The subject of her suspicion—Lena, she’d called herself on the phone; Tess Mercer, it had said on her mastercard—twists a soft-looking lock of dark hair around her finger as she studies their menu. The way the sunlight sets it ablaze almost makes Kara take a second picture, purely for its artistic merit.
Alex dabs at her onion-induced tears with the cuff of her sleeve. “Let it go, Kara,” she sighs.
“Let it go? Let it—” Kara whirls back to face her, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Do you want The Tower to end up like Winn and James’ steakhouse? Or are you fine with getting swindled by this—this… villain?”
“Of course not.” Alex looks at her like she’s stupid. “But even if this woman is your so-called ‘food influencer’, what do you suggest we do about it? It’s not as if we can bully her into giving us a fair review.”
Kara squares her jaw and sets her fists firmly on her hips. “No,” she declares, her tone grim. “But we can teach her a little about journalistic integrity.” She blows at a lock of hair that’s fallen in her face. “And also, possibly, credit card fraud.”
Alex narrows her eyes at her. “Kara,” she warns, putting down her knife. Her voice is low and cautious, as if she’s talking to the rowdy raccoon that moved into their dumpster three weeks ago instead of to her baby sister. “Let’s just take a breath and think about this for a m—”
Kara is already gone, the doors to the kitchen swinging closed behind her. Sliding into the cluttered space behind the counter, she crosses her arms and then drops her elbows on the bar, leaning what she belatedly realizes is probably a little too close to her adversary. She’s close enough to make out the individual downy hairs on her chin and the lines in her painted lips, which are still pursed thoughtfully in what Kara is sure would look like an attractive pout to someone who didn’t know any better.
But Kara knows so much better.
“Let me guess,” she remembers to get out, much less biting than originally intended. “Today you’ll be having the fifth entrée down the list.”
As soon as their eyes meet over the miniscule amount of space left between them, Kara knows leaning in was a fatal mistake. Her nemesis blinks up at her with wide, startled eyes that remind Kara of the glass pebbles she finds on the beach on her morning walks, not-quite-blue and not-quite-green, and for a moment Kara’s brain sputters out as if someone abruptly turned off the flames that kept it cooking.
But the woman recovers fast, like the scheming scoundrel that she is. She guiltily shutters her eyes behind thick, charcoal lashes, and Kara’s temper revives at the observation that her enemy isn’t as good of an actress as she thinks she is.
“I’ve actually been thinking of breaking my own rule,” she says, with a smile that lands somewhere between self-deprecating and apologetic. “I may give in and order the same thing you served me yesterday.” Kara goes hot all over with righteous indignation at the rich timbre of the woman’s voice, the almost flirtatious lilt it takes on when she adds, “I haven’t been able to stop dreaming about it.”
Kara pulls back a little in an effort to escape that curious gaze, the enticing scent of the woman’s perfume. It’s sweet enough to drown out even Alex’s mountain of onions. “I know what you’re doing,” she blusters.
The—frankly unfairly beautiful—soulless grifter stares at her, stricken. “I’m—I’m sorry?”
“You should be,” Kara says. “I know who you are.” And then, as if she’s putting down the last card in a game of Uno, “Lena.”
The woman goes very still for a moment, and then the corners of her lips tug down in a bitter semblance of a smile. “I see,” she says. She’s rigid, regal; she’s royalty perched on a wobbly wooden stool. “And am I to assume that’s enough for you to turn down my patronage?”
Kara’s resolve wobbles, too. She hadn’t expected her adversary—Lena, she now knows—to roll over so easily. “Well, yeah, obviously,” she flusters, her energy suddenly too large and lumbering in the face of Lena’s deference. “Winn and James are family.”
“Family.” There’s a flicker of wistfulness in Lena’s voice, before confusion colors her features. “So the cold shoulder,” she says. “It’s personal?”
Kara scoffs. The fraudster doesn’t even remember the names of her latest victims. Typical. “It was their steakhouse that you razed to the ground last month,” Kara reminds her.
Lena blinks at her. “The establishment just up the road?” She raises a critical eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure they set themselves up for failure when they decided to name their restaurant Misteak.”
Kara huffs. Her air quotes are appropriately vicious when she says, “They were doing just fine before your slanderous ‘review’ went viral.”
Lena does a remarkably convincing impression of someone who is genuinely flabbergasted. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“Liar.”
Lena’s shocked laughter is bright but brief. It’s the first time Kara has heard her laugh. It’s maddeningly attractive and deeply annoying.
“Okay,” Lena says. She folds her arms in front of her chest and leans back a little in her seat, unaware of its delicate disposition. A smirk tugs at one corner of her mouth. “Tell me,” she says, her eyes narrowing. “Who do you think I am, exactly?”
Kara leans in close again, refusing to allow Lena to get the upper hand. She’d like to wipe that smirk from Lena’s face—manually, if need be—preferably, even, if it means she’d get to smudge that infuriatingly immaculate lipstick with her thumb—
“You,” Kara charges, in an effort to drown out that unhelpful thought, “are a fraud. You call yourself a ‘mystery food critic’ on TikTok, but really you’re blackmailing businesses into buying a favorable review.”
“Hey, um.” Alex has followed her out of the kitchen, holding her phone. “So. Winn texted back, and he says—”
But Lena laughs again, her guarded posture melting down to unmistakable relief. “I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice a high warble. “That sounds awful. And also extremely illegal. Have you reported this person to the authorities? I can get you in touch with an excellent lawyer, if you’d like.”
Kara doesn’t know if she feels more outraged or confused.
…Or possibly some secret third thing.
“So you’re telling me—” Kara barks out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re saying you’re not her.”
“This, ehm— Tic Tac person?” When Lena’s dark lashes flutter, something in Kara’s chest flutters too. “No.”
Impossible. “Then why have you been in here every day this week?” Kara interrogates, the full force of evidence she’s collected behind it. “When neither one of us has seen you here even once, since we opened?”
Alex rolls her eyes. “I told you I wasn’t sure whether I’d seen her here before,” she points out. “Also, Winn says—”
“Oh please,” Kara scoffs, her eyes fixed on Lena, who has propped her elbows on the counter again, closer now than she’d been the last time their eyes met. “As if you could forget a woman as beautiful as—” Kara’s gaze drops to Lena’s mouth, unbidden, when Lena parts those rude, ruby lips. “...You.”
Alex stares.
Kara swallows.
Lena blinks; two times fast, and then again, after a beat, slow and sticky, her eyes darkening.
“So you may as well come out with it,” Kara croaks out what little remains of her anger. “There’s something you want more than our fettuccine.”
Lena’s cheeks have turned a treacherously charming shade of pink. “I suppose you’re right about that one, at least,” she admits after a beat.
In Kara’s peripheral vision, Alex frantically slides her hand across her throat. Kara frowns at her, telegraphing a wordless what is your problem but finding no satisfactory answer in the crimson shade her sister’s face has taken on.
“Yeah, well,” she says, almost disappointed, fumbling to fill the space left by Lena’s confession. “I’m telling you right now that it’s never going to happen.”
Alex clears her throat with startling force. “Winn wants to know,” she says, reading from her phone, “Who’s the hot chick?”
When Kara returns her gaze to the woman on the other side of the counter, she gulps. Lena is somehow even closer than she was before. She’s also fully propping herself up now on the laminate surface between them, granting Kara a glimpse of freckled cleavage that in no possible universe could be interpreted as unintentional.
“So,” Lena drawls. “What you’re saying is you’re not going to give me your number?”
Kara’s throat is suddenly very dry.
“Huh?” she manages, but only just barely.
“I was hoping,” Lena says slowly, that maddening smirk once again tugging up the corner of her mouth, “that you’d maybe like to—”
Lena shifts in her seat, crossing her legs in what is bound to become a devastatingly seductive pose, but the barstool decides in exactly that moment that's it’s finally had enough. Lena yelps as it gives out beneath her with a dramatic snap, one of its rickety limps flying across the floor as if celebrating its first taste of freedom, and Kara’s never considered herself to be very quick, but here she is anyway, on the other side of the counter in what feels like less than a second, one hand gripping Lena’s forearm, the other slipping smoothly around her waist.
“—fuck,” Lena gasps up at her. She feels good, in Kara’s hands, slight but pleasantly heavy, like the santoku knife Alex has forbidden Kara from touching ever again. “Well,” Lena says. “That’s. Perhaps not the way I would have phrased it, especially in front of your friend—”
They both glance over at Alex, but she’s disappeared, the swaying of the kitchen doors the only indication she was ever there.
“O-kay,” Kara says.
Lena grins. “Okay?”
Kara mentally rewinds the conversation and feels her ears burn at the realization of what she just agreed to. “I mean,” she amends. “We could, maybe, grab something to eat first?”
Something devious sparks in Lena’s terrifyingly gorgeous face. She glances down at Kara’s arms before blinking back up at her again and smirking. “I thought you already had.”
And, goodness gracious.
Kara is about to be in so much trouble.
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regonold · 9 months
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Theres a new guy going to gotham high which isn't unusual only wierd this is he looks identical to daimian wayne except pale
So seeing as he looks identical the bat's do some investigating only to find it all checks out only slightly wierd part he's living with his sister but that could be for any number of reasons
The "final" part of their investigation is meant to be the easiest part get some dna so why is this so hard they tried everything hair saliva blood but this guy leaves nothing
They evn got daimian to invite him to the Manor and somehow SOMEHOW HE DIDN'T LEAVE A SINGLE SHED OF DNA AND IT'S DRIVING THEM MAD
Meanwhile danny is quite happy he's made a friend with daimian wayne and his brothers are cool they've invited him to the manor a dew time's (the butler alfred reminds him of cockwork sometimes it's erily similar) amd the spirit of Gotham has been much more relaxed around him now that he's interacting with mr wayne and his family
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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 3 months
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Supersons +1 prompt answer
If you asked Danny, 12 year old half-ghost hero of Amity Park, how half-life was going, he'd tell you things were mixed.
On the one hand, he had just spent the last three or four months in family/scientist/'this house is a death trap waiting to happen' therapy with Jazz, and by some miracle, it worked. He wasn't sure if this was some kind of dream as his parents poured over years upon years of research, crossing out lines, rewriting equations, and reevaulating everything they thought they knew about ghosts.
Was the shudders family therapy worth not going over how they'd like to dissect him? he's still not sure. The horror.
Not to mention the attention. Danny was sure he was going to throw up if his parents drag him away for more bonding time, only for a ghost to attack and for him to run off to transform. What made it worse was when the Fentons came barrelling out, guns blazing, alternating between getting mad that he'd interrupted their family time, and asking him questions about "Your suspicious spook culture, if you even have one you dangerous delusional delinquent!"
At least they were trying, but Danny was very much comfortable not spilling the beans on the whole half-ghost situation, thank you very much.
And that's why, when Dad proposed to take him to Gotham to show off their latest invention, he jumped at the chance. The home city of the Batman, one of the greatest heroes known to man (except for Martian Manhunter and Superman of course) and Dad promised to take him to Gotham Observatory too. Not to mention how much he wanted to get away from Jazz's smug looks of superiority. Gotham here he comes!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Damian Wayne scowled as he scanned the crowed of scientists with more smarts than sense. Really, a flying toilet seat. For what deviant?
"Maybe they're for people who can fly." Kent piped up beside him. Father had let the two of them run off together, and his company was mildly more appealing than being alone with his thoughts.
"Why would Superman ever need to relieve himself mid-air. I do not believe you would appreciate your father's rear end being on display for all the world to see."
"True." Jon hummed. His voice lowered to a whisper. "You think indecent exposure is what your dad meant by "scoping out any potential future villains?"
Damian gave Jon a flat look. The sooner this convention ended, the better.
The crowded shifted, and the mass of visitors pushed toward a certain corner, where a man large enough to rival Superman's build stood upon a podium, with a boy their age off to the side.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce to you the latest in FentonWorks' innovations, the Fenton Ghost Zone Radar, soon to revolutionise the study of ghosts!"
"I thought ghosts were a magic thing." Jon said. "You know, stuff Constantine and JLD deal with."
"They are."
"Mixing magic and science is like, like, oil and water. No way this guy's serious, is he?"
"His name is Jack Fenton. That's Daniel Fenton, his son." Damian pointed to the boy in question, looking like he'd seen this scene a hundred times before, but with that knowing glint that promised something deeper. "They're normally spotted alongside Jack's wife, Madeline. Widely regarded as quacks by the larger scientific community for chasing paper-thin theories about ghosts, they've nonetheless gained funding from the government. This is the first time they've left their base of operations in Amity Park for years."
"Woah, you know your stuff, Dami!"
Damian glared at the young Superboy in disguise. "I read the briefing files. Didn't you?"
Kent looked uncomfortable and looked away. "Uhh, maybe?"
"Typical."
"Well, if he's so crazy, then why'd your dad even let him in." Upon another scathing glare, Kent relented. "Oh right, the whole supervillain thing."
"Enough chatter. We'll zero in on the younger Fenton. I intend to squeeze him like a grape, and make Father proud."
"Dami maybe you should be a little nicer-" Only for Damian to march off without him.
Honestly, inane niceties were above someone of his status. Those things were Superboy's job, and if Daniel Fenton wouldn't crack, then Damian was itching to try a new torture technique.
@impyssadobsessions
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minty364 · 7 months
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DPXDC Prompt #72
One thing Danny hated about being a halfa is you don’t age. Unfortunately this also means that when you’re de-aged to age 10 you stay at age 10. The GIW did some awful things before they were disbanded but Danny stayed in the realms. He was their king after all. Thousands of years go by and the Justice League decides to summon the Ghost King to deal with a major threat (you can pick what it is) and they summon a 10 year old. Danny decides he’s going to mess with the people of this world.
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tanglepelt · 1 year
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Dc x dp idea 55
When Dani leaves amity after being stabilized she starts running into hero’s.
She doesn’t think it’s odd. After all Danny is a hero. So she starts bugging them never staying around too long. She did want to be a hero on her own.
One day a battle happens. One that keeps taking out hero after hero. None of there attacks are hitting it. Just phasing through.
Obviously for plot convenience no member of the JLD are here.
Dani of course forces her way into the fray. Unlike the others her stuff actually hits it. Now they don’t do much but does stall the threat. Managing to freeze bits and pieces for short periods of time.
Dani has a moment of realization. The being has to be from the infinite realm. Mid-fight she calls Danny. The trio made her take a phone when she left.
Danny shows up in a portal. He just soups the ghost up. No issues no sweat. Danny then starts questioning her on how she is. What’s she’s been up to. Why she didn’t bother to take any ghost hunting equipment with her.
When he notices the other people. The hero’s who he didn’t know existed. Danny begins to realize that the world was nothing like Amity.
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Phantom: *Kicks down the doors of the Titans Tower*
Titans core four: *Getting ready to fight"
Phantom: Which one of you is Superboy?
Kon:
Kon: Me obviously *gesturing to the large S on his chest*
Phantom: Cool. What custody days do you want?
Kon: You're going to have to explain
Phantom: *partially unravels the bundle of blankets to reveal a baby with kryptonian blue eyes*
Phantom: Congrats! You're a dad!
Kon: Oh god the card I got in the mail wasn't a prank
Phantom: Nope. Help me name him.
Tim: I have so many questions
Phantom: I have so few answers
Cassie: Thats not comforting
Phantom: I woke up in a mad scientists laboratory 200 years in the future to find out i have a clone baby with someone I've never heard of and everyone I knew and love is likely dead.
Kon:
Cassie:
Tim:
Phantom: If anyone needs comforting here its me
Nightwing: *the only adult in this situation* Okay, how about we talk about this. I'm sure the Justice League will be happy to help you and your baby
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puppetmaster13u · 4 months
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Prompt 187
Clockwork would openly admit that he couldn’t see Danny’s timelines. Not since the moment he stepped into that portal and became something more. A child of Infinity, of the very Realms itself. 
But he’ll also admit that it always meant that the child surprised him all the time. This just happened to be a startling surprise, and an admittedly amusing one, even if Danny was openly complaining about the situation. 
“It’s not fair! You have to be able to fix this, right? Right?!” the ghostling, quite literally now, practically yanked at his cloak. “Clockwork, I was going to graduate, I can’t be two! Please, you’re the master of Time, you can fix this right!?” 
No, no he could not, seeing as young Daniel was in fact, immune to timeline machinations, doubly so for his own. To the ghostling’s open distress, which he did his best to soothe. What he could do instead, was stop time in his home dimension, and instead let him age back up again. 
Which the young halfa wasn’t happy about, but it was the best thing they had, so Clockwork supposed he had a ghostling now. A tiny adorable ghostling who kept pouting each time his much younger body had any sort of effect on his behavior. 
He’d never exactly had a ghostling before, nevermind one who was part human, but he would admit he honestly was enjoying it. Most time was spent alone, something he hadn’t realized until Danny ended up crashing into his unlife. 
Honestly he would openly admit that he absolutely adored his little ghostling. Who was now around four, at least physically, and had gotten into the adorable habit of curling up in the pendulum in his chest. Which was honestly the safest spot in Long Now, he’d admit. 
The singular issue however, with this habit, was that when someone attempted to summon him, they got his ghostling as well. And well, normally he could very much control himself for these summonings that happened every few hundred or so years, but well. There was a reason why even the Observants had stopped popping in the moment they realized he had a ghostling. 
Nesting ghosts do not mess around should they feel one is messing with their very vulnerable child, and really it’s not his fault the mortal cultists woke up and startled Danny. Perhaps deleting them from the timeline was a bit too far, if the other mortals rapid paling was to go by, but oh well. 
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