i have lots of unfinished stuff lol. first one is just me trying to figure out how to draw stanley. second is an idea for an au where the narrator gets trapped in a computer [which i got inspired for via some cool but sadly uncredited fanart on pinterest rip [i hate art pirates <3]]
last two are inspired by an AMAZING fic which you can read here. i am like 98% sure the authors both have tumblr but i can’t find them in their ao3 profiles so if anyone happens to know them please tag them or let me know! i had this vivid image of the narrator typing on his tiny laptop like an old writer guy i knew growing up. he would go to my favorite coffee shop everyday and type his stories for hours and it reminded me of the narrator’s set up in this fic. really solid writing and cool ocs, 1000/10 everyone should read it rn <3
647 notes
·
View notes
DP X DP Prompt: A White Robins Visage
We all know about the AUs of Danny being Jason's alternate version aye?
Well what about Danny being the ghost of Jason. More specifically the ghost of his Robin.
Picture this:
When Jason was killed at the hands of the joker he appeared within The Zone. Wearing his Robin uniform that was now covered in blood and soot. The greens barely seen underneath all the burgundy red.
However when he was revived/resurrected he wasn't quite... whole. Things of his past escaped him, almost as if the memories where covered in a thick fog.
It was assumed this was because of the pits. That it somehow scrambled his brain and caused not only the pit rage but also the slight memory loss and cloudyness.
However what no one knew was that when Jason left the zone to the mortal world. Something or rather someone was left behind.
Robin, now called Danny, has only ever known a life within the Ghost Zone. The small boy would be often caught running around with a large smile despite the large, gaping wound on his temple. Right bellow a large patch of black hair, the rest being stark white colour.
Somedays his form would flicker to that of someone older, in a brighter set of clothing. Almost of that you would see in a superhero movie, the once eyecatching colours have been speckled with blood. It's unknown if it came from his bleeding head or there was more injuries underneath his clothing, but no one had the heart to ask. Only Frostbite, the best healer in the Far Frozen knows the answers but refuses to speak of them. His eyes would sadden whenever it was asked, so the topic was dropped.
But one thing was certian. This boy had been so brutalized, so beaten and damaged it reflected in his ghost form. It's known that Ghosts can heal from almost anything given enough time and rest, but sometimes there where wounds that could never heal. Not unless you scared over those in your mind first.
An example of this would be Ember. The burns that once covered her body has slowly faded over time as she has come to terms with her own passing. Now only the ones on her back remain, the most important one as a flaming beam had fallen on her before she could escape the burning inferno. The smoke took her mind, but the fire took her body.
Seeing little Danny run around with the forever gushing laceration caused a grave sense of sadness to sweep those who saw him. How young, a little spark blown out before it had the time to be the light they all knew he would've became.
So it was rather a shock when one of the Bats saw the face of a younger Jason infrount of them. Sitting upon the grave of their brother humming a tune long forgotten by the older version, but forever remembered by the younger.
Flowers dropped from their hands as the second Robin turned around, domino mask wide beneath the white and black hair.
Wait... didn't they just see Jason a few days prior? Who is this? Who is wearing their brothers clothing that they swore was still displayed within the tube in the Batcave.
Their hands shook, and body trembled. Blood, oh oh god there was so much blood. The boy, Jason? was covered in it. What happened?
They knelt on the wet soil, plams held up and outwards towards the kid.
"Hey, are you oka-" right as they where about to place a hand of the child's shoulder it just... passed right through. A cold sensation washed over their body, their hand was through his shoulder but crimson stained their knees in the pool bellow them.
A voice whispered in their ear, light and airy, almost as if a passing breeze has blown through the graveyard.
"Who are you?"
254 notes
·
View notes