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shadebloopnik · 1 month

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Unrequited/One-sided Radioapple but it isn't treated like an angsty end of the world thing.

Imagine they slowly get closer after all the banters, and eventually becoming close friends. Lucifer ends up catching feelings for him, and after a long while, decides to confess and ask Alastor if he felt the same.

Alastor admittedly does not feel the same.

He's getting uncomfortable, struggling to keep his composure because he's DONE this before. He KNOWS how this ends. He remembers Vox and all his insistent declarations of affection and desperate pleas for Alastor to reciprocate; the possessive entitlement. He remembers how all those sickly sweet words morphed into something venomous when he didn't give the lowlife what he wanted. He remembers the anger, the ridiculous notion that it was Alastor's fault why he was so mad, that Alastor led him on and that he obviously deserved something in payment for it all-

So yes, Alastor knows how this ends.

It doesn't mean he isn't disappointed though, because he actually LIKES Lucifer, far more than he ever did Vox. Perhaps not in the way the king might have wanted, but he did. He treasured their little talks, their drinking sessions, their shared love for their instruments, Lucifers singing, their little duets, the banter, the playful jabs, the sparring.

He'd even slowly grown accustomed to the other's touches, not feeling the same surge of disgust and discomfort whenever the shorter man would grab at his arm in excitement, forgetting his usual thoughtfulness of Alastor's touch aversion for the short moment of whatever distracted him. Alastor even enjoyed it at times, relaxing at the feel of soft feathers beneath his claws, or the sensation of gentle scratches against his ears.

Difficult as it was to admit, Alastor had grown to care for the angel, the same way he had for Rosie orv Mimzy.

But no matter how fond Alastor was of Lucifer, it didn't change the fact that he didn't feel the same way romantically, or even sexually. No way in the 7 rings of Hell was he going to lie to Lucifer about either, not going to even entertain the idea of pretending he reciprocated for Lucifer's sake. He respected his friend too much for that.

So a clear, direct rejection it is. It was a shame, but nothing could be done. He said his piece concisely, and waited, shoulders set, back straight, smile and eyes a careful blank canvas as he prepared for the inevitable.

Lucifer nodded, a normal soft smile still in place, "Thank you for your answer, it means a lot."

Which......what? Alastor expected an outburst, or at the very least sharp words.

What he did NOT expect was....acceptance? And not just that but, a happy one? Contentment?????

"You're....alright with that?", he had to ask, he had to. Lucifer was clearly just very good at masking his upset.

But the damn angel just smiled?? And it didn't even look fake, just as bright and soft as his normal smiles, albeit a little confused?? Lucifer smiled at him, his brows furrowing in a bit of confused disbelief, as though Alastor is being the weird one here.

"Uhh, yeah??? Why wouldn't I be??? Yeah I may have some feelings for you but its not like you're obligated to feel the same. Above anything else, we're friends first and foremost and i'm alright with that..."

Then he seemed to have reached his own little conclusion as his words trailed off, because suddenly Lucifer's eyes widened in realization of something, and his words picking up with a sense of panicked urgency.

Alastor would really like to know what Lucifer's supposed realization was about himself because he had absolutely no clue.

"I mean, we ARE still friends right?? I don't- I- I hope this doesn't like- change your opinion of me. You're not- oh gosh I'm not making you uncomfortable am I? I- I won't mention it! You can even forget this whole confession ever happened! We can just go on as before! I don't feel any different or would act any different! Honest! I mean, I don't regret confessing because you deserve to know and I'm not ashamed of my feelings, but I don't want you to be uncomfortable! It doesn't change the way i'll treat you! Or change any aspect of our relationship! I don't even think I like you more as a lover than as a friend! I really, really do love our friendship, it matters more to me than any thoughts of being in a romantic relationship with you! So please just forget it all-"

Alastor let the word vomit wash over him, every word leaving him more confused by the minute.

Because yes, there's the desperation he expected, but...it was more about, convincing Alastor to remain friends?? Reassuring Alastor that nothing has to change?? That their friendship is the most important thing here??

(If anyone asks, no Alastor's heart didn't swell. Only lesser beings would have had the urge to cry, and Alastor is anything but.)

Lucifer is unknowingly reassuring Alastor of every single one of his insecurities about the situation. Because Alastor DID want to remain friends, he cared too much about the man to let it go so easily. It was rare to find people who treasure friendships above romantic relationships.

"I don't tend to forget easily, nor will I forget this one in particular.", he spoke, finally finding his voice. At Lucifer's defeated, pained expression( is their friendship really that important to him?), he continued. "But....yes. I'd like that.. To remain...friends."

He didn't often say the word out loud, being comfortable enough with each other that it need not be reassured with the label. But with Lucifer brightening up like his namesake, relief and happiness palpable, Alastor felt no qualms at declaring their friendship out loud.

So life went on as usual. True to his word, Lucifer remained basically the same. The following weeks were a bit stilted for Alastor, as he put some rather painful distance between him and the angel; limiting their interactions, their usual touches.

Anytime now, Lucifer would break and show his true colors, Alastor would think, waiting for the boot to drop. Lucifer would end up angry, and dissatisfied, and that was that.

But it never happened. Lucifer never expressed discomfort when Alastor avoided him, seeming to be understanding of the others need for space. He was just as affectionate as before, though initially a bit held back, as though gauging Alastor's comfort.

Months would pass, and the king never faltered. Their friendship remained strong, if not growing ever closer than before. Alastor found himself even growing more comfortable with the man. Affectionate touches were becoming common, hugs and head pats and cuddles being a welcome thing, with the reassurance that the shorter king would never disrespect his boundaries.

Lucifer seemed genuinely happy about it, despite being clearly told that none of Alastor's actions hinted at anything romantic. In fact, he seemed ecstatic that Alastor was getting more affectionate towards him as a friend. The embarrassment the radio demon felt at having Lucifer basically tear up (no really, he was crying so hard, full on drama sobbing) with joy in front of him was intertwined with the sheer incredulous fondness he felt for the man at that moment.

They were sitting at a couch one night, more than a year passing since that confession. Lucifer was leaning back, resting against the cushions, while Alastor had his head on the smaller one's shoulder, nuzzling at the crook of his neck, legs tucked close to his body. Both had a book in hand, two nearly empty cups of tea on the table in front of them. Every so often, Lucifer would flex his fingers that rested on Alastor's head, running a digit against the other's ear, often prompting the demon to lean into the touch. White wings enveloped the two, blanketing them against the chill of the night.

As Alastor turned the page of his own book, relaxing into the touch of his dearest friend, he wondered how he ever got so lucky in hell.

#this may have gotten away from me lmao #this was supposed to be a rlly short prompt of 'Unrequited love but overbrimming friendship' but instead i typed out this word vomit-#i don't know if im labeling things right here??? this may not look platonic tk others but ig im sort of projecting here #bc i want friendships like this soo badd. i mean this is still platonic right??? this is normal friendship behavior like come onnn #I've been teased about being ace bc of this mindset but i always just go RIGHT this is how friendship works y'all blind😭😭😭#bloopnik writing #bloopnik rambles #radioapple #appleradio #platonic radioapple #platonic relationships #aroace alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor #duckiedeer #unrequited feelings #BUT NOT UNREQUITED LOVE HELL YEA #one sided radiostatic #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH AND ITS BEAUTIFUL #queerplatonic #i think #fic #fanfic #radiosilence

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hailsatanacab · 3 months

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I'll ask after that secret number 8!

I only remembered secret number 8 because I saw your wip here! I'd started this one based on the same prompt, then lost said prompt and stopped working on it 😅

Instead of a snippet, I'm just dropping it all here - maybe that way I'll feel inspired to finish it?

———

It’s a full house for dinner tonight and, really, that should have tipped him off.

Bruce sits at the head of the table, smiling softly as he watches over everyone’s antics. Damian is regaling Dick with everything they saw at the zoo that day (Danny had been so happy to see Delilah the purpleback gorilla again, and her new little additions to the troupe, too!) and how well they are implementing the grant the Wayne Foundation had gifted them. Tim, Steph, Cass, and Duke are all engaged in a thumb-war tournament which Danny has no interest in participating in. It just wouldn’t be fair on them.

Danny loves that look. The one where Bruce’s eyes crinkle when he thinks none of the kids can see him. It oozes love and it makes Danny’s heart, his core, ache.

It’s been a little over a year since Alfred found him on the street and managed to wrangle him back to the manor to stay—even after the whole biting thing when he realised how rich they were.

A little over a year here and Danny’s starting to feel like family.

Starting to feel like he might, just maybe, like to make it official.

“Danny,” Bruce says, drawing everyone’s attention. Danny starts at his name, but Bruce’s voice is warm and calm, and his shoulders lose their tension almost immediately. “Danny, I have something I would like to tell you.”

“Uhhh…” is all Danny can croak out, eyes flicking back and forth between Bruce and the rest of them. Smooth. Looking good, Danny.

Except… they’re all happy. All smiles, all relaxed body language, all radiating calm and love and acceptance. Well, not Damian—his face is as thunderous as it always is—which at least means it’s nothing too out of the ordinary.

“Danny, first of all, I just want to impress upon you that this is in no way something you have to do. You are under no obligation to join us and, no matter what, you shall always be welcome with us in the manor.”

Wait, what? Danny squints at Bruce, trying to parse exactly what he’s saying… Is he—is this them asking to adopt him? Do they want to make it official, too?

It’s been a little over a year and of course Danny has imagined calling Bruce ‘Dad’. Of course he’s imagined being part of the family, of course he wants to make it official!

He can’t help the beaming grin or the bright and bubbling “Yes!” already waiting on his lips. All Bruce has to do is ask, all Danny needs to hear is—

“I’m Batman.”

The smile freezes on Danny’s face.

His lungs stop working, his heart stops working, he stops working, he just—

“And I’m Nightwing,” Dick smiles, breaking the awkward silence.

Danny’s eyes snap to him, and then down to Tim when he admits to being Red Robin. Duke is Signal, Steph is Spoiler. Damian begrudgingly tells him he’s Robin, but Danny can barely hear it over the ringing in his ears.

“I’m Black Bat.” Cass cocks her head, almost looking concerned. It always felt like she understood him the most. Whenever he was feeling low, too in his memories, or stewing after a nightmare, she was always there, ready to card her fingers through his hair and never mention his tears. It makes his heart ache to think of it now. “It’s okay, Danny.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but how—how can it be okay? How?

Danny’s spent a little over a year with them. A little over a year with Batman.

Batman, who works with the Justice League, who works with…

A little over a year.

Just under 16 months since he escaped.

“Danny? Are you alright?” Bruce asks

Finally, his lungs kickstart and suck in a shuddering breath, only for everyone to drop their smiles.

Didn’t take them long, did it? Now that their ruse is up, there’s no kindness in their eyes, they’re just… cold, calculating. Evaluating.

“Why?” Danny gasps, his fingers tingling, his heart in his throat.

Just under 16 months since he—has he escaped? Or was this just another one of their experiments?

"I... I trusted you, why—" Danny chokes back a sob, gritting his teeth as his shoulders shake. Why? Why would they do this? "I was happy here, with you. I thought... Weren't you happy?"

"Danny..." Bruce is looking at him, eyes narrow and eyebrows pinched, in some cruel facsimile of confused concern and all Danny can think is how much of an actor he is. How well he can play the part of a doting father. How much he made him want that.

"I don't understand, why..."

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, I can imagine that it comes as a shock. We shouldn't have lied to you, Danny, but—"

"Stop it!" Danny slams his hands down on the table and pushes himself up on wobbly legs. Even standing, he feels so small. Smaller than Bruce, than all of his adopted siblings. They crowd above him when they all stand, too. "Just stop it! Why are you doing this, why are you still pretending? Stop it!"

It was easier, with Danny's biological parents. The knowledge that they'd do anything to get him on a lab table, to open him up and see what makes him tick, to rip him apart molecule by molecule, had always been there. He knew they hated ghosts. He knew they hated Phantom. He knew they hated him. It was easier because it was something he'd known all his life. When he died, when he became a ghost, he knew what to expect from them. It hurt, of course it did.

But it was easier than this.

"Danny, I'm going to need you to take a deep breath. You're having a panic attack and you need to breathe."

"Breathe?" Danny laughs, the sound harsh and choking, too high pitched in his hysteria. "You're joking, right? Or is this just more of the—the experiment?"

"Danny, please, we don't know what you're talking about, you—"

"You don't know? You're Batman! You work with the Justice League, you work with—" His words choke off as his stomach churns, bile rising in his throat. His whole body itches, screaming at him to leave, he can't go back, he can't, he can't, he can't!

Bruce takes a hesitant step forward and Danny scrambles back, his feet catching on the chair behind him and sending him careening to the floor. Where are the agents? Why aren't they swarming in, ready to apprehend him, strap him back on the table, carve him from the inside out.

"Please, Danny, calm down. We don't—"

Danny stops listening. His back hits the wall and he pulls his knees into his chest, his shoulders dipping down as he begins to sob. His heart throbs inside his throat, too painful to swallow around. Tears fall hot and heavy on his face.

Sure, he could run. He could phase out through the wall and he could be out of Gotham in a couple of hours. He's escaped the GIW once, he can do it again.

But that was before Batman knew who he was. Before he had the World's Greatest Detective on his tail.

Before he...

He really thought this would be different, you know?

He wanted to make it official.

"Why did... Why were you so nice to me? Why did you make me like you? I really—I really liked you. I-I thought we could be a family."

"Danny, we are a—"

"Don't lie to me!" Danny snaps, but the force of his anger leeches all the fight from him, and suddenly all that's left is a bone-weary tiredness. There’s a lump in his throat that hurts. There’s a line down his chest that burns. "I don't care. I don't care anymore, I don't. Just... don't make me go back there. Please."

Is it futile? He thought he knew how the GIW operated by now, the depths that they would go to achieve their results, but this... this was a whole new level of pain that Danny thought he had left behind him in Amity.

"We're not going to make you go anywhere, Danny, you're safe here, I promise."

"Safe? Safe? You must have—" he takes a deep breath, tries to stop the quivering of his voice. It’s all starting to make sense, now. "The reason you're telling me who you are is because you must have told them everything already. I know the Justice League—I know you're working with them, which means the ex-experiment is over now, and they're coming to take me back. And I can't go back."

"Danny—"

"I can’t!” Danny glares at Bruce with all the rage he can, fingernails digging into his skin. “I’m not going back!"

"That's right, you're not going back, Danny. I won't let that happen." Bruce crouches down in front of Danny, his hands open and raised as if he's trying to say he's not a threat. "I don't know who you're talking about, and I'm sorry about that, but I can promise you that you’re not going back there. We will keep you safe."

Danny pulls himself closer, tucks himself further into the wall, eyes flickering all across the room waiting for that tell-tale flash of white as the agents start to swarm.

He should take his chances now and run, he should go, he needs to go!

The rest of them, his brothers and sisters of a little over a year, are spread out, giving him and Bruce some space. The same concern colours all of their faces. Why are they still pretending?

Steph is chewing on her thumb.

Danny liked Steph and her brash confidence, her jokes. She's been promising to paint his nails for months now, they've just never found the time. He was going to go for green and black, or maybe a galaxy theme, depending on what she felt comfortable doing.

He likes them all.

"You were supposed to be my family." His mouth turns down at the corners and his voice shakes like a child. "You were supposed to—why? Why would you—I don't understand why you would make me like you..."

"This isn't an experiment, Danny," Bruce's voice is steady, soothing. "I promise."

"But you work with them and—"

"Who do I work with?"

"The Justice League."

"Yes, I do, but we—"

"And the Justice League works with them. The GIW." Danny trembles with the name, clutching tightly onto his hoodie. "I'm not going back there, Bruce."

Danny doesn't miss Bruce's look over his shoulder, nor Tim's nod in return. Tim turns slightly to the side to hide his movements, but Danny bets he has his phone in his hand, probably letting them know they can take him now. Guess this is it, then. They'll be here soon, and he'll be gone.

"Kill me."

"Danny? What do—"

"If you ever had any kindness for me, if you ever cared, kill me. Please, Bruce. I can't do it again."

"Danny..."

"End me now. Take my core out and break it, please, before they get here."

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dpxdc fanfic #wip game #thanks for the ask <3 and thanks for helping me remember this fic lol #also huge thanks for having the prompt linked because i have S O M A N Y prompt wips that i can't ever post because i've lost the post #didn't really know how to get danny to calm down #that's a lie #i have a few ideas of where this can go but no motivation for it - not against all the other wips #i'll keep at it and ig post to ao3 should it actually start looking alright #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#dudes did u kno u can pin shit to your clipboard on desktop because i fucking love that #also if you use the windows key + . there's like emojis and shit #(((��(◎ロ◎;)φ)))#<- and kaomoji too!!!!!#anyway that's been fun facts and fanfic with me. ur welcome #oh shit my writing tag #hailsatanacrab🦀🦀writes #at some point 'oh shit my writing tag' will just become my writing tag #anyway thank you again for the ask #good night everyone!!!!!

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sprinklesdonut15 · 7 months

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Tips For Making Unique Character Voices:

(For both narrating & dialogue)

Decide how formally they speak - this is also based on who they were raised around and what their timeline is, their race and culture, etc.

Know their overall volume of speech - maybe they speak loudly because in their past that’s the only way their voice was heard

There’s a hundred ways to say a sentence - sometimes this changes up in a person, but everyone has the way they word their sentences. Example: “what are you doing?” Can be “whatcha doing” “how goes it” “whaddya doing” “what are you up to” “what is chu doing” etc.

Self representation matters - if a person isn’t confident then they aren’t going to sound confident. But it’s not just about voicing confidence or not, there are details to every trait. If you’re character’s not confident then then they might question their choices a lot. They probably won’t judge other people except in high regards. Every personality trait has finer details

History also matters - maybe trauma makes it so your character gives extremely detailed answers to avoid confusion (anxiety). Maybe some kind of accident makes them speak less

There’s a difference in how much people speak - somewhat a follow up to the last point. But it’s not just personality that determines this but also illnesses. For instance my adhd makes me talk a lot nonstop, so much so that I might trip over words, or if I’m “narrating” then I go very out of order. People who don’t care much (depression) might only give vague or indecisive answers. Some people have long answers, some give one word answers.

People know different things - such as when your character is comparing something to their past. Even something simple, not all of your characters might know something like “this specific type of tree” but one character might because maybe it was a tree in their backyard. Characters knowledge determines their understand and ability to explain.

#they didn’t ask but ig this is a follow up :)#writing #writing ideas #writing dialogue #prompt #dialogue #prompts #writing inspiration #quote #story #story ideas #character voices #unique voices #unique character voices #tips for making unique character voices #character traits #character quirks #character ideas

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spinderella-umbrella · 2 months

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@wolfstarmicrofic | Rictusempra | 450 words

Sirius is an idiot, who forgot his collar bones were covered in hickies that he had refused to let Remus heal. An idiot who couldn’t apparently wait to get to the private bathroom to get changed. Now James wouldn’t let up on finding out who gave them to him.

“So what’ll it be, Pads? Tell us of your own volition or suffer the consequences,” James smirks devilishly, waggling his fingers in front of him in a tickling motion from across the room.

But even the threat of James making him laugh like a hyena with a well cast rictusempra won’t make him tell. Sirius shakes his head, lips pressed tightly together.

“You asked for it—“ James says, twirling his wand. “Rictusempra!” He casts, and Sirius closes his eyes, bracing himself for impact. But it doesn’t come— instead, a small crack in front of him indicates that a shield had been cast to block the spell.

His eyes fly open just as James shouts, “Hey what gives Moony!”

Sirius’ eyes follow James’ line of sight to Remus, who hasn’t even looked up from his book.

“He doesn’t like being tickled.” Remus says flatly. Sirius sees his wand still in his hand as he turns the page.

“Which makes it the perfect way to get information out of him!” James argues.

Remus raises a brow, and looks up, amber eyes glittering in the low light. “By torturing him?”

James gawks, mouth opening and closing, unable to think of what to say. Sirius is glad no one’s looking at him, because he’s red as a tomato. After moments of fumbling, he says quietly, “I just wanted to know. We tell each other everything.” James turns to Sirius then, his expression crestfallen. “Who is so important that you can’t tell me?”

Sirius deflates, hanging his head. “I’m sorry Prongs. They’re not—“

“It was me.” Remus interrupts, Sirius’ head snapping up to gape at him.

“What?!” James shrieks, and Sirius winces, but he’s focused on Remus, his boyfriend, who has set down his book and opened his arms to Sirius.

He doesn’t hesitate, dashing across the room and sliding onto the bed, slotting into Remus’ side. The place he has made his home. His eyes are still on Remus, and finally, Remus’ challenging glare leaves James and turns to Sirius.

“Hi,” Sirius says dumbly.

“Hi,” Remus smiles at him, tucking his hair behind his ear.

“Are you seeing this wormtail?” James shouts gleefully. “Moony and Padfoot! Look at them! Oh this is the best day.”

Remus snorts, and Sirius buries his head into his shoulder, Remus leaning down to rest his cheek on his head. “Love you.” He whispers, feeling Remus’ smile against his hair.

#marauders #maraudersfanfiction #wolfstar #marauders era #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstarmicrofic #not everything I write is sad ig #living for these prompts #fuck yeah mods go hard

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freshdishs · 3 months

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No because I actually want to see a villain who’s both comedic and has absolutely no idea what the hell they’re doing

Imagine they’re new to the city where the hero operates and they get caught in the crossfire during a fight

BUT

The villain acts on impulse and sticks their hand out to shield themselves from an attack

AND GUESS WHAT HAPPENS NEXT Y’ALL

They don’t feel like..uh..dying

So they open their eyes

AND FIND OUT THEY FRICKING BLASTED A HOLE IN A BUILDING

And the hero’s just gaping at them like 0-0 wut

So this naturally sets off a nation wide manhunt for the villain

BUT THAT’S NOT ALL FOLKS

While on the run, the villain encounters someone who treats them like a goddamn celebrity

Like this person legit idolizes their actions

The person joins the villain and becomes their self-proclaimed ‘sidekick’

Bonus points if more ‘sidekicks’ join and it becomes the most out-of-context cult(?) ever

AND ALL THE WHILE THE HERO’S CHASING THEM DOWN LIKE A MADMAN

I rest my case.

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luxaofhesperides · 5 months

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Ghostlight!

"You came?" "You called."

Danny in trouble, Duke to the rescue! (Or it can be reversed!) Maybe they've been online friends or met in person once and bonded over both having all these unexpected powers. Slightly angst.

There was never a point when Danny thought he would need the panic button Duke gave him.

It was a sweet gesture, a way for Duke to show that he cared for Danny and wanted him to be safe. Never mind that Danny can take care of himself, heals quickly from most wounds, and has been the protector, not the protected, ever since the Accident. If it makes Duke feel better, than Danny was more than happy to keep it on him as a token of affection.

The cultists, however, caught him off guard.

Danny would be embarrassed about being nabbed off the streets so easily if the people who took him weren’t cultists lead by the daughter of a GIW agent, one who disapproved of the scientific approach the GIW took towards ectoplasmic entities and had turned to mystic arts as a way to defy her father. Which, usually, Danny would be all for striking out against the strict expectations of parents and their unwillingness to listen to their kids in any serious manner, but not this time. Not when it ends with him slowly waking up after they chloroformed him, curled up in some magic circle, surrounded by black candles and blue flame, and something in the air that smells of blood blossoms.

There are voices speaking, but he can’t make out what they’re saying over the pounding in his head, his heartbeat stuttering in his chest with each gasping breath he takes.

Whatever they’re doing, whatever’s got him bound in the circle, makes his blood feel like its been lit aflame, agony coursing through his veins. He tries to grit his teeth and bare it, but it doesn’t become any more manageable.

No, it gets worse the longer he’s awake.

Danny tries to move, tries to get to his feet, but all he can do is curl up tighter, a sob forcing its way out of his throat.

“I know you’ve got some connection to Phantom,” he hears someone say, both by his ear and so far away he can barely make out the words. Danny whines, trying to insist that they’re wrong, he’s got nothing to do with phantom, but the voice continues. “Come on, cooperate with us and this will end sooner for you. You can’t lie about this; you wouldn’t be feeling anything if there was no connection.”

A hand brushes against his forehead, burning hot, and Danny turns his face towards the ground trying to move away from it.

“I knew ghosts had to have some tie to the living world. And a living anchor would make the ghost stronger… If only dad would listen to me.” The voice sighs, and the words help him put the pieces together and realize this is the daughter of the GIW agent that came closest to finding him when he first ran to Gotham.

It’s been close to a year since then. He thought they’d stopped looking.

Really, he should have known better.

The hand leaves his forehead and he hears the leader bark out an order. Voices surround him, chanting, as they rise out of the dark.

A red glow begins to fall on everything, enough that Danny can see it through his barely open eyes. A shudder runs through him, and he feels his transformation try to begin.

NO, he thinks desperately. He tries to force it down but it fights against him. It’s agony, pain on a molecular level, the feeling of dying over and over and over again.

NO, he thinks, STOP I DON’T WANT TO DIE SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME.

And then, unbidden, a single word rising in his mind. Duke.

Duke will help him if he knows Danny needs help. Duke has been kind and welcoming and helped Danny find his footing in Gotham, never judging and always quietly offering a hand in support. He’s the person Danny’s closest to in Gotham, someone dear to him, a light in the dark.

He gave Danny a panic button.

Contrary to popular thought, Danny isn’t an idiot. He knows Duke is the Signal. A few too many incidents where Duke had disappeared and the Signal appeared to save him tipped him off. It didn’t help that Duke acted the same in and out of costume, and he always, always grabbed Danny first at the elbow, then slid his hand down to his wrist.

Besides, who else gives panic buttons to their friends? Danny would have done the same to Sam and Tucker if they weren’t always attached at the hip. He’s a (former) teenage vigilante too, he knows how being involved in this kind of thing invites trouble into the rest of his life.

Duke can help him. He’s a hero. He’s saved Danny before.

He’s his friend. Danny trusts (wants to trust, so badly) that Duke will help him even when he’s not fully human, fully alive.

With trembling hands, he reaches into his jacket, to the panic button. It’s a simple necklace with an unassuming metal rectangle dangling off of it. It’s flat and thin, but the top gives way to a button that Danny clicks three times in quick succession.

He waits a moment, trying to breathe through the pain, and clicks it three times again.

Please hurry, Duke, he thinks, hand falling limply to the ground.

“Let’s try this, instead,” the leader says, and the chanting falls to a quiet murmur to give way to her voice as she begins reciting something.

It starts at his feet. They cramp up suddenly, then pain crackles up his bones like lightning, digging deep into him. It feels as if a thousand knives dig into his abdomen, cutting in deep and twisting.

Danny chokes on his breath, then screams, trying futilely to scramble away. All it does is make him writhe on the ground, back arching enough that he can feel the strain of it on his spine, but it doesn’t matter because he’s forcing down his transformation again, smothering Phantom as much as he can.

His breath mists out before him. His fingers go numb, frost spreading across the floor.

Tears slip down his face as Danny pants for breath.

It hurts. It hurts like nothing has ever hurt before, but he refuses to give in. If they find out he’s Phantom, they’ll only do worse.

Please, he thinks again, deliriously.

As if hearing him, a window shatters above him and the cultists break off in screams.

Forcing his eyes open, Danny squints through he tears and watches as the shadows around them rise up, roiling, and crash against the cultists. The force of it knocks them down, leaving them to claw desperately at their faces as the shadows cover their nose and mouths, cutting off their air. The leader is yelling, rage clear in her voice, shooting out magic spells at the Signal.

The Signal is usually a friendly figure. He’s safe, something whose meer presence makes people feel safe. His smile means everything’s alright and when it’s directed to Danny, he feels like nothing bad can ever happen to him again.

The Signal isn’t smiling now.

He’s furious, expressionless and stone cold, bashing away the spells with shadows or light, advancing on the leader like an avenging angel come to deliver justice.

He takes her out with hard hits, striking methodically. It’s not quick. She doesn’t get the kindness of being knocked out; no, he snaps a wrist, breaks her nose, slams her down on the ground and cuts off her air with a knee until her struggles die off and she’s left limp on the floor.

When he rises, surrounded by shadows still moving restlessly, illuminated only by the flicker blue flames of the candles, he should look terrifying.

All Danny feels is relief so sharp it worries him that his chest was cleaved in half without him noticing until now. He shivers against the floor, too weak to reach out to the Signal.

It’s a good thing he doesn’t have to.

The Signal picks him up with careful hands, checking him over for injuries.

“Duke,” Danny murmurs, slurring a bit. The torture is definitely at fault for it, but the sudden absence of all that pain doesn’t help him sound any more coherent. “You came.”

“You called,” Duke says, “Of course I came. I’ve been looking for you for hours. You never showed up for our study date and I know you always try to reach out if you can’t make it. I’m just sorry I didn’t find you sooner.”

“S’okay, ‘m not mad. Was scared, but you made it better. The panic button…”

“It’s how I found you. I’m so glad you were wearing it today.”

Danny tries to smile, but the most he can manage is a twitch of his lips before his head tips forward to rest against Duke’s armored shoulder. “I always wear it.”

Duke’s grip on him tightens for a moment, then he begins walking, taking Danny away from the magic circles and the prone bodies of the cultists who had watched him be tortured and decided to keep going. Danny shudders again, his entire body aching. His transformation is still fighting to come out, but it’s not as strong anymore.

“Let’s get out of here,” Duke says into his ear. “I’ll take you to the hospital.”

“No! No hospitals, please. I can’t let them know… they’ll find me…”

Duke shushes him soothingly, tucking him more securely against his chest. “Alright, Danny. No hospitals. But I am going to call Batman for a pick up to get you to one of the people we trust for medical care.”

“But Batman doesn’t work in the day.” Danny’s too exhausted to sound confused, but it must go through anyways. Duke laughs lowly, and the sound helps unwind the last of his nerves coiled up tight in fear.

“Danny, it’s well into the night. You were gone for hours. Longest hours of my life.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles,

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault. Hang on, Batman’s nearly here.”

In any other circumstance, Danny would be excited to meet another hero. Especially Batman, one of the original heroes of the modern age. But all he wants is to go somewhere safe so he can curl up and cry, then sleep for three days before he pretends to be a normal human again. Ideally, he’d stay with Duke until he felt safe again, but he doesn’t want to take Duke away from the city that needs him.

His ears perk up a bit when he hears the smooth rumble of an engine stop in front of them. A door opens with a click without Duke needing to grab the handle, and then Danny is carefully being deposited in the back seat.

“Wait,” he says, trying to grab for Duke’s arm only to have his fingers fumble and grab nothing. Duke doesn’t move away, though, and instead grabs Danny’s seeking hand. “Stay? Please? I just—” his voice shudders, cracks, fractures apart. “I just want to feel safe.”

There’s a pause, a stillness in the air, before Duke says, “Okay. I’ll stay.” And then he’s sliding into the backseat, pulling Danny in to lean against him, curl into his embrace.

“Signal,” Batman’s low, gravelly voice says. There’s something in his tone that makes Danny tense up, prepared to take off, and his transformation pushes at his skin, ready to come out.

“He knows who I am, B,” Duke replies. “He’s trustworthy. Besides, just because he knows me doesn’t mean he knows you.”

“We will be discussing this later,” Batman says, dark promise in his voice. It’s just how he talks, Danny’s sure, too used to years of making himself the scariest thing in the dark. That doesn’t change the fact that Batman can be terrifying, and Danny can’t imagine he’ll take kindly to the fact that Danny knows Duke’s identity.

Fear slithers up his spine, and he can’t stop the transformation this time. The rings of white light flash over his body in a second, leaving Phantom in his place.

Danny lets go of his legs first, glad to be free from their aching weight, and without a body made of flesh and bone, the hurt begins to fade away until it’s just an unpleasant memory.

“What—” Duke starts to say just as Batman says, “Signal—”

They must have some sort of silent exchange. There’s only a heavy tension in the car and the barely audible rumble of the engine as they drive towards their destination, whatever it may be. Danny sinks into Duke some more, sighing in relief as a hand comes up to card through his wispy white hair.

“Danny,” Duke says, “What’s this?”

“It’s why they hurt me,” he mumbles against Duke’s chest. “It’s why they keep hunting me down. I want them to leave me alone. I’m tired.”

Embarrassingly, his voice cracks on the last word and more tears fall down his cheeks. He hears Duke move, and then hands, bare and gloveless, wipe his tears away with a gentleness that makes his heart ache.

“They won’t be able to hurt you again. You’ll be safe from now on, Danny, I swear it.”

“S’okay if I get hurt,” he says, “It always happens. Promise to save me if this happens again?”

“I’ll do whatever I can to make sure it doesn’t happen again. But if it does, then I promise to always save you. I gave you that panic button, didn’t I? As long as you keep it, I’ll always find you.”

“You’re a good person, Duke,” Danny says, voice falling quieter as his exhaustion catches up to him. “I’m glad I met you.”

He thinks he feels a soft touch to the top of his head. A kiss, maybe, though it’s not likely. But he wants comfort, and he’s endured a lot a pain so he allows himself to hope and be delusional. With the warm that spreads through him from Duke’s soft kiss to his head, Danny gives in to the siren call of slumber.

“Get some sleep, Danny,” Duke says, voice hushed. “I’ll stay with you as long as you need.”

I know, he doesn’t say, too tired to open his mouth again, You’re always here. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

He falls asleep easily after that. There’s nothing in the world that can hurt him while he’s in Duke’s arms. He’s never been safer.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc fanfic #dc x dp fic #prompt fill #my writing #didnt quite get into it but duke and danny bond after always being in the library together!! they decide to study together and grow close #danny def has a crush but hes stressing out abt too much to think much on it.duke is crushing HARD and flirts with him as both duke & signa #anyways danny has mentioned that he's running away from people who want to hurt him and is safe in gotham for now #hes absolutely going to have to answer a lot of questions after he wakes up in the batcave with duke asleep on a chair next to him #batman in that car ride worried abt the identity breach and then mentally practicing his shovel talk bc he knows duke and danny are gonna #end up together. they're just acting soooo close and enamoured and kinda like him and (literally so many options. all of them ig)#danny is going to wake up. freak out. be interrogated. be given protection. and get a date all before alfred manages to get him to eat #good for him :)#thanks for the prompt!!

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lale-txt · 5 days

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absolutely obsessed with meet ugly scenarios lately. what if i keyed the car which i thought is my exes but instead you run out in your nightwear shouting at me. what if i sleep with your father the same night you break up with your partner in the room next door, only for us to meet in the hallway next morning and realize we're in the same class. what if our very excited mutual friends sets up on a blind date and it goes horrible from the first minute on. what if we're both overworked and try to sit down at the same free seat on the train, one sitting in the other's lap and refusing to move because fuck i'm tired too you ass and this is kinda cozy. what if our flight got cancelled and we reluctantly rent a car together because we really have to be somewhere, for what turns out to be the longest and most unpleasant roadtrip ever. what if you're a pro athlete and i get assigned as your assistant but don't even know what kind of sport you're playing. what if we're at a fandom meet up in our town and hit it off only to find out we have each other blocked on all socmeds for having shitty opinions since years.

#deep deep DEEP in my enemies to lovers era can you tell #i should make a prompt list one day ig #because i'll probably won't write all of those but they're so fun to daydream about #lale.txt

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save-the-villainous-cat · 8 months

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Hii! Could you make a fluff snippet about a hero and a villain that have a mission that they have to pretend they are a couple,and give their first kiss? L love your snippets :) you are my favorite writer in tumblr💜💜

For you: a cookie 🍪

Dating had always seemed rather difficult to the hero. Opening up to someone, being vulnerable and revealing the depths of their mind wasn’t exactly what they deemed safe. In their career, countless people had betrayed them and the hero had never felt ready to be in a relationship.

Which was why they had dreaded this. Dating their enemy surely sounded like suicide.

The hero had struggled with the thought of living with someone for weeks just for the sake of the mission. The hero had a lot of problems, had a lot of issues and they hated to be viewed as anything less than perfect. They were a mess, their lifestyle was a mess. The hero couldn’t cook, couldn’t clean, couldn’t take care of themselves.

Sleep was an enemy, rest was too. And the hero had truly thought the villain would get annoyed and break off the arrangement.

But that didn’t happen.

“How’s your anxiety?” the hero asked quietly. Going out was probably the most challenging thing for both of them. Pretending to be in love wasn’t exactly easy.

“Much better, thank you.” The villain smiled at them from across the table and it wasn’t fake. They had chosen one of the restaurants where their targets were regulars and it wasn’t cheap. It turned out that the villain could be a very sweet thing, supporting the hero and making them feel better about themselves.

“…I was thinking about your idea. I’d like to try it,” the hero said. The villain looked at them and a soft blush covered their cheeks. Unbelievable that this person could name every bone in your body and break it with no struggle.

“Only if you’re comfortable, of course.”

“No, I…I think it’s good to try out. If I’m up all night you get no sleep either. Maybe physical contact can help with that. Something about survival instincts, I don’t know,” the hero said. Cuddling with the villain all night long didn’t sound too bad. It was just something…new. Physical contact was usually unpleasant for the hero. All they seemed to know was anger and violence.

Sometimes the hero wondered what it would be like to give into those feelings and simply do as their emotions told them. But they were pretty sure they would end up on the villain’s side then.

“I think we’re pretty good at this. The mission, obviously.”

“Oh, yeah…yeah, you’re right.” The hero looked at the empty plates, the empty glasses. Both of them didn’t really feel safe around people. Being a popular hero or a hated villain had those side effects. “Have you seen our targets yet?”

“No, I think they cancelled their reservations again,” the villain said. They let their eyes jump from table to table. The subtlety of it impressed the hero.

“Assholes.”

“Let’s pay, hm?” Let’s pay meant let me pay. The villain hadn’t even once let the hero take out their wallet and the hero knew whatever the villain did, whatever they said — all of it wasn’t real. However, no matter how hard they tried to convince themselves, they couldn’t help but find it sweet and dared to love it.

Once they were outside, the villain put their jacket around the hero’s shoulders and they walked home slowly.

“Do you think going out in a week again would be too suspicious?” The hero’s lips curled into a smile and they looked at the villain.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” Even though the evening was turning into night, the hero could see how red the villain’s ears got. They scratched their neck and laughed nervously.

“That’s a very weird way of putting it.”

“Hm. Well, you can invite me on a professional business dinner, then. If that’s less weird.” The hero shrugged and smiled to themselves. Getting to know the villain, breaking the hard shell and discovering that the villain was passionate and sweet and maybe just as broken as they were, made the hero feel connected.

They didn’t know for how long they had chased this feeling. To be understood, to be…loved.

God, these feelings were horribly wrong.

“Or invite me on a date, your call,” they said quietly, nearly whispered it. It was meant as a joke. A joke rooted in hope.

“The date, then. Please,” the villain answered and the hero’s heart skipped a few beats. They played with the sleeves of the villain’s jacket nervously.

“…it was a nice dinner,” the hero said.

“Yeah, it was very nice.” They came to a stop and looked at each other. The hero could feel the villain’s gaze reaching into the depths of their heart. Their eyes dropped to the hero’s lips. For a moment, the hero thought their nemesis was leaning towards them but the villain only smiled lazily, cleared their throat and kept on walking with slow steps.

“I think you’re the first person I’ve ever dated. Even though it’s fake. It feels good,” they said. “I never went out on dates. Not like this.”

“Yeah, I get that. Feels like ages since I kissed someone. Not really the perfect life for a relationship,” the hero said. The hero turned to look at the (blushing) villain but when their eyes met, they seemed more than nervous.

“Can I?” They barely said the next words. “Can I please kiss you?”

“Yes.” The hero nodded desperately and felt the desperation between them growing when the villain came closer and held them. Their lips were on the other’s in seconds and, Christ, the hero couldn’t stop replying with kisses.

#I don’t dance nooo #writing snippet #heroes and villains #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain prompt #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #fluff #ig

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