#Transference prompts

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 149

Danny is not the ghost king. In fact, he’s never going to be the ghost king. 

However, that doesn’t stop him from getting summoned, which is stressful. First of all, he has school to deal with, second of all, he’s just a lil baby ghost so shouldn’t even be able to be summoned, and three, his new ghost-dad gets a… tiny bit upset. Not at him, but he can only talk him out of destroying a world thanks to some idiot-cults so many times before there’s the temptation to let him do so. 

[is-this-even-relatable]

DC PROMPT #1:

So you know how Billy’s last name is Batson? Well think in terms of Norse naming schemes and it’s Bat son.

I want a fic where people think Billy is Batman’s son.

Batman knows who Captain Marvel is, and sometimes Billy has a tough day. Sometimes Batman comes to help out in Fawcett City and happens to run into scrawny kid Billy. So he helps/offers emotional or physical support.

And Billy is a little shit, and also magical as fuck so he’s got Weird-Vibes (TM)

People see this strange, obviously not normal child. People see Batman, the cryptid, whom shadows cling to and is quieter than the night he dwells in.

Yeah that black haired kid is obviously some magical spawn of batman.

And then they learn his name is Billy Batson? Yeah, that’s definitely Batman’s son, didn’t know Batman was norse though?

[lar-mx]

writing prompt #5

The room fell silent, Steph wasn't expecting the pain filled look they were giving her. The question repeated itself in her head a couple of times as her mind searched for a way to save the situation.

"I see you don't have an answer." The silence was still palpable in the room as well as the cold she felt when she saw those beautiful blue eyes lose their shine. "I should have known it was too good to be true, tell bru… Mr. Wayne that if he wanted to know about the projects so much, he could come ask for them himself instead of using a sugar trap." Steph tried to say something before an alert went off on Danny's phone, at which point she saw the panic that took over his eyes, before he ran to an adjacent hallway that led to a room, in which she was not. I had had the opportunity to enter. As she followed him she could see how Danny took a series of vials and several injections. She hesitated a moment before walking through the half-open door. At that moment she saw how he proceeded to apply several of the injections to a girl of about 5 or 6 years old. Steph knew just by seeing her that she was Danny's daughter. and some of the things they discovered while investigating the Nightingale medical company made a lot of sense.

[active-mind-15]

Thinking about Akashi's father and how he also grew up in a prestigious family, I wondered what it would be like if Akashi didn't even make the decision to go to Rakuzan on his own and he only went there because his father also studied there decades ago when he was a high schooler. If so, it would be another interesting layer to Akashi's character if he had the added pressure of following in his father's footsteps to a T.

Like imagine him getting accepted into Rakuzan and having teachers who've been teaching there for decades tell Akashi how they remember what an exemplary student his father was and how they expect great things from him, too.

Imagine him walking through the hallways and seeing pictures of former Rakuzan students who've won important awards and competitions displayed on the walls, and Akashi manages to find pictures of his father back when he was a high schooler.

Imagine him constantly feeling like he's living in his father's shadow and wanting to escape the responsibilities and expectations that come with the territory of being an Akashi.

Imagine school faculty coming up to Akashi regularly and telling him how lucky he was to have such a great intelligent man like Masaomi to be his father.

(They don't know that beneath the glittering prestige and behind closed doors, Masaomi is not the father figure everyone thinks he is. They don't know of the wordless dinners he shares with his son as they sit on opposite sides of an 8-seater dining table. They don't know that his father, someone who should be guiding his son through life, has left Akashi to fend for himself while Masaomi becomes more emotionally unavailable with every passing day. They know nothing.)

I just think it would be so fascinating to explore if that was the case and Rakuzan had been around long enough for his father to have been a student there in the past.

[nelkcats]

Past Errors

While traveling through Amity Park, Jason was arguing with Bruce and said the forbidden word in the city "Since you didn't save me, I wish I could travel back in time to save myself!", this was unfortunately overheard by Desiree, who fulfilled his wish and made him travel in time.

The only problem was that instead of waking up in his child body as expected, he woke up as a Lasiurus bat, and how was he going to save himself like that?!? The little Jay was staring at him and he had no idea how to help him, Jason felt helpless and powerless.

On the other hand, in the original timeline Jason's audio had gone silence. Bruce was worried, Jason usually hung up the calls not just disappeared. And no matter how angry he was, he would not stop communicating with his siblings because of him.

When Bruce went to investigate the last place his son was, all that was left was Jason's motorcycle crashed in the middle of the road and without trace of the boy, it seemed the vehicle had exploded, Jason helmet and clothes were completely burned in the place where he should be.

Fearing the worst Bruce began to investigate, but he would have noticed if Jason had been kidnapped (or his body was). Had he lost Jason over an stupid argument again? His fears multiplied as he remembered the way he had lost him the first time, and the start was not much different.

Unknowingly, Jason was stuck in the past, with his family thinking that he had died a second time in the future.

[punkforkos]

He doesn't claw at her-- he doesn't hold on at all. He just stands there, limp, almost hiding. The blood from his neck seeps into her clothes and she whispers a healing spell as she holds him.

Drew a small moment from a piece my friend wrote for these two!! Solaire can't stand being seen at his most vulnerable,,, but Sylvaine will always be there to meet him where he falters.

>> my carrd | ko-fi | inprnt <<

[bethrnoora]

TES Summer Fest Day 4 - Thief/Enamored

Eternal Champion Khetz-al and his fellow Blades member and Daggerfall Agent Za'ahrin, back when things were good.

[daydreamsandcrashingwaves]

Transference Ch 2

inspired by @scealaiscoite 's touch-starved prompts

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

Go gently friends,

~Ren

Pt 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

NO!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck.”   

~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~

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

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

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

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

His twin’s core gleamed innocently in his palm. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Robin gets to work.

[so-long-soldier28]

i need to be writing but i have the ✨ depresso ✨

[loquaciousquark]

[Fic] Love Comes In at the Eye [1/1]

Rating: G Characters/Pairings: Astarion/Tav Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Word Count: 2.9k (wee baby!) Summary: Tav returns from a day of rebuilding the city to find Astarion with company. Like any self-respecting world-saving hero, she completely and utterly panics.

Set about a week post-game.

–

Torches in silver sconces blazed merrily on either side of the fine carved doors. They called to passersby in crackling welcome, as did the cultured cheers and calls of laughter within which burst out at every entering patron. Every now and then the doors opened to reveal glimpses of diners in glittering gowns and robes, two glass chandeliers a trifle large for the space, and the scent of beautifully cooked meat.

Tav, who had a new rent in her cloak and a still-damp mudstain down her entire left leg, would just as soon have gone back to the Elfsong for the evening; but a crew of rebuilding construction workers had at last taken on the inn’s shattered west wall, and all guests had been summarily displaced for the duration. Two days, they’d said. Three, if the Elder Brain’s death throes had fractured the foundation. Not much she could do there without taking up a hammer herself.

And besides, Astarion was here. It was a restaurant and auberge just to his taste: on the low side of the Upper City, grossly overpriced, staffed with obsequious parlor-maids and utterly choked with gilt candelabra. She’d have preferred taking up at the Blushing Mermaid, but Astarion had made it clear washed sheets were a non-negotiable, and that had severely limited their options. 

–

Links: FF.net, AO3

[welcoming-grey]

Omg, omg....OMG!! I just can't comprehend the fact the nobody(probably? I haven't seen it yet so,,,) has thought about DP x FNAF...Like can you imagine the horror on Danny face when he realizes his part-time job at a goofy pizzeria is not so goofy anymore when he sees dead children just float about, obsessing over screwing over this one man and his family. Him realizing that said man in question is Springtrap. Him name-dropping the animatronics dead names when they try to scare them. Him going ghost and the others either thinking 'There's another child that Afton fucking killed??!!' or going 'Holy shit, what is this eldritch horror?'... Imagine him realizing that now he can't even quit because he's in too deep. So much so that he neglects Amity Park (ik about the protection obsession hc but please) and now the Fentons are looking into a more larger scale and finds out about FNAF somehow, identifying that Phantom is now there. Think about the dead children reactions when a random couple enter the place, only to fight their new companion. What about said dead kids realizing that their companion and their new watcher are the same person, I could 100% tell you that somehow Charlie or Springtrap are going to try to manipulate Phantom/Danny to do their bidding. Ughhh, so much yet soo little.

[blueflyingturtleontheway]

So, I've heard some voices here and there lamenting how little Gabe content - especially new Gabe content - there was and you know what? I completely agree, so I thought why not, I can try to add my little droplet into this tiny sea of Gabe appreciation we have here on tumblr.

Summary: Elena visits Gabe in his house for the first time and learns something new about his past.

Word count: 1937

AN: just some friendly fluff really, headcanon heavy, from Elena's POV but Gabe centric

"Oh, watch out, the first step is-" Gabe turned around just in time to catch Elena when she started to fall backwards. "-loose."

"Thanks for the warning." Elena shot him a glare when she regained her balance. In response Gabe only sent her an unapologetic grin and pulled her up on the next step.

"Everyone's so used to it by now that we keep forgetting to fix it with my dad," he explained as they finally reached the first floor.

The stairs led to a narrow corridor, with the same room placement as the bakery beneath it. Two doors on the right, one on the left and a wide opening to the living room at the end. In a few brisk steps Gabe opened the door on the left and invited Elena in with a courteous gesture.

"Welcome to my humble abode, your highness."

Her highness graced him with a nod and slipped by him, into the small room. Elena gave it a quick one over. It was indeed small - in fact, there probably wasn't much more space than what each guard got at the barracks - and the decor wasn't much fancier either. Cream colored walls, a thin bed by the window, a wardrobe opposite of it, one wall taken up by a bookshelf and a small cabinet by another made up basically all the furnishing of the room.

"Humble is a good word." She nodded solemnly, earning herself an eye roll from her friend. They both chuckled.

"Hey, it's your room that's out of the norm, you know?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Elena retorted, thinking about how three or even four such rooms would fit into hers. She walked over to the cabinet and picked up some trinket. "But it's nice to finally see where you grew up."

Gabe couldn't stop a fond smile sneaking onto his lips when he noticed the badge she was examining.

"Yeah and I didn't really get to change much here in the past five years. For example this thing I got back when-"

"Gabriel!" He was interrupted by his mother's voice from the bakery.

"I'll tell you in a moment," he sighed. "Make yourself at home!" He added from the doors and quickly ran downstairs to his parents.

Elena took another look around the room. It wasn't entirely empty, she had to admit that, and the poster of Antonio Agama on the inner side of the door confirmed that Gabe didn't change the decor much since he moved out.

She moved to the bookshelf and moved her hand across the titles - though there weren't that many of them to count. The lower shelves were taken up by some boxes and bags and what could've been a neatly packaged tent. Then finally a whole shelf dedicated to the whole collection of Antonio Agama's books. Elena chuckled to herself when she read some of the more dramatic titles and noticed even one that wasn't in Avaloran. On the next shelf, between other various travel books and biographies, was only one book by señor Agama, titled simply 'The Gecko's Tale'. Driven by a hunch she took it out and couldn't help but laugh when she read the blurb on the back. Although that explained how the whole kingdom found out that she's a bit adventurous too.

Finally her gaze got to the plant on top of the mantle. Hidden so deep in the room, it extended its ivy like stalks towards the sun, climbing a string helpfully hung between the bookshelf and the window.

Down on the windowsill two other plants looked out on the little cobbled square behind the house. Elena leaned in to smell the orchid and noticed something half hidden behind the pot. Slowly, so as not to accidentally damage the plant, she reached for trinket and retrieved it into the light. It turned out to be a wooden doll, painted to resemble a familiar navy and maroon uniform...

"Is this you?" She turned to Gabe as soon as he entered the room and showed him the figurine with a wide smile.

Gabe stopped for a moment. Furrowed his brows as he tried to see what Elena was even holding, and then furrowed his brows even more when he recognised it.

"Of course not," he grumbled, closing the small distance between them. "It's just an old thing anyway."

"It does look a bit like you though." She jumped away from him at the last moment.

Gabe gasped. Elen giggled and moved her hand away when he tried to reach her.

"Why would I even have a figurine of myself?"

For a moment they circled each other, like two lions judging if it's worthy to fight the opponent for a steak, except the steak was now wooden and 15 centimetres high. They both hunched subconsciously and made their steps in the fencing manner.

"I don't know, why does Esteban have a whole wall of his own portraits?" A sly grin slid on her face. "But I see you've decided to match his collection."

"Oh now you've done it." Gabe shook his head to hide his smile and in the split of a second was right by her. Feigning to go right for the prize, he swiped her legs out from under her.

Elena waved her hands in the air giving Gabe just the opportunity he was waiting for. He swiftly yanked the figurine from her hands, giving her the last push to fall backwards completely. He turned his head with a victorious grin, just in time to see her legs rising at the height of his knees. And suddenly the ground was much closer than before.

He folded his arms to his chest, protecting the figurine with his body and rolled on the floor. Though he didn't have to roll far, of which he was promptly reminded by his head crushing into the cupboard.

He groaned loudly and let his body fall limply to the floor.

His pained complaint was answered by Elena's laughter from the bed.

"I'm getting too old for this," he mumbled and Elena's laughter only got louder.

Finally he sat up and lifted the figurine to his face. He carefully examined it for any cracks or splinters, checked if the joints in the limbs didn't fall out and most importantly if the head was still on firm. Finally when he made sure the trinket didn't get damaged, he let out a relieved sigh.

"You're lucky it's still whole," he grumbled, rising to his feet.

"Hey, I was being careful." Elena now sat up too and sent him a playful smirk. "All the way until you decided to trip me like that."

Gabe rolled his eyes again and huffed in pretended annoyance.

"So if it's not a limited edition General Nuñez action figure," Elena continued. "What is it?"

Gabe sat down next to her and thought of an answer for a moment. He changed the position of the little soldier's arms and reached for a pin to put into his hand as a sword.

"It's really just an old toy," he said finally. "But you know, it has sentimental value."

He finally passed Elena the figurine, so she could take a look at it herself. It wasn't as old as she thought at first. The paint was faded, but still held onto the uneven surface of the wood and as she moved her fingers across it, she realized that it must've been all whittled by hand, by someone who put great care in it, but wasn't a professional.

Still the amount of details was impressive, especially in the construction of the thing. She moved the tiny soldier into the proper fencing position and to her delight found out that it fits flawlessly, the wire on the joints creaked quietly, as if it had been waiting for an opportunity to shine for ages.

She glanced between the figurine and Gabe on her left for comparison. The uniform, despite the familiar colours, was a tad different, it resembles more what she remembered from her childhood, than the uniform Gabe was wearing at the moment.

"I got it from my first fencing teacher," he continued.

"The same one who threw coconuts at you driving training?" Elena raised a brow, earning herself a chuckle.

"Yeah, the same one." A sad smile reached the corners of his eyes as old memories resurfaced in his memory. "He was a tough man and always talked about how big an annoyance I am, but -" he gestured to the figurine and shrugged.

"Well, that explains why it looks like you," Elena bumped him with her shoulder. "I'm sure he could've already seen that you'll be a great guard."

"Oh, I don't think he even wanted me to be a guard," Gabe laughed again. "But you know, the situation was a bit different." He pondered something for a moment before continuing. "And to be fair, I didn't even realize that it was supposed to be a guard at the time, I was pretty sure he just came up with the design by himself. I only really connected the dots a few years ago, when I found this old thing again."

Elena nodded silently and put a comforting hand on his arm. She could see that this topic wasn't easy for him.

"Though maybe what you said was the point." He straightened suddenly and his gaze went back to the figurine. "Maybe he wasn't completely against me joining the guard, just... joining the right one."

His smile became wider and it was like his whole face lit up. Elena raised the little soldier's arms to make it cheer. They both laughed at how expressive this piece of wood was.

"So where is your coach now?" Elena asked, caressing the wooden toy one more time.

He only sighed at first and for a moment his gaze became clouded again, before he shook his head to cast the memories away.

"I wish I knew," he sent her a sad smile. "One day he just... disappeared. A few trinkets and one letter is all the proof I have that he wasn't just my hallucination."

Elena's lips twitched in a matching sad smile, but before she could say anything, they both heard a voice from downstairs, calling the unmistakable word 'dinner!'

Gabe clapped his hands on his knees and sprung up to his feet.

"Ah, just in time", he extended his hand to Elena. "I think eating is a much more fun topic than discussing the weird things I did in my childhood."

Elena examined his face for a moment more, but gave up on asking all the questions that pushed to the tip of her tongue. She sent him a smile instead and accepted his hand.

"Oh, you mean you did more weird things?" She made the little figurine gasp.

"I feel like I shouldn't have started this topic," Gabe laughed.

"Oh no, you won't escape now." She poked him in the chest and put the little soldier in his hand. "I gotta know all the crazy stories."

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you something," Gabe raised his hands in defeat. "But you can't mention it to my parents, please, they'll never stop until they tell you my whole life story."

Elena made a theatrical gesture of tapping her lips in thought as she backed out of the room.

"I'll consider it," she sent him a wide grin and in a second turned and ran towards the stairs.

"Hey- wait!" Gabe called out, running right after her to save what was left of his reputation.

[sunshinetrinket]

trying to solve any tech problem on a computer is like the hardest task in the world and everywhere you look people are saying the same 3 things that you obviously have already done

[thepoisonroom]

big city lesbianism is just like: i would NEVER date someone in a distant neighborhood! another country though.......😏

[lunarrolls]

20 Life Transference with Chetney

i always get so fucking carried away writing chetney. he’s so fun IT’S NOT MY FAULT. anyways have fun with this sort of double h/c because life transference is like that and so is fcg!

•

Life transference is a 3rd-level necromancy spell on the cleric and wizard spell lists.

You sacrifice some of your health to mend another creature’s injuries. You take 4d8 necrotic damage, which can’t be reduced in any way, and one creature of your choice that you can see within range regains a number of hit points equal to twice the necrotic damage you take.

•

The fucking hunters are back, because nothing can ever be easy and their luck always sucks. Someone in the group definitely pissed off the Matron or whichever god controls the luck of random adventurers just trying to save the world. Chetney’s money is on Ashton, personally, because Ashton is possibly the only person he’s ever met who can piss someone off that badly while also having never met them.

Chetney, on the other hand, did meet Tuyen Otwana. And, well, wasn’t it nice of her to send someone after his ass. Their interaction was fine, really! It’s not Chetney’s fault that she was overcharging like a motherfucker! He left her alive and with medical supplies. She should have just taken the hint. So really, if you think about it, none of this is Chetney’s fault at all. 

Regardless of whose fault it is, Chetney’s face is pressed into the cobblestones of another alley in Jrusar for the second time in as many days, the weight of a silver net pressing down on his back and shoulders, sizzling slightly as he attempts to cast the stupid thing off. The fucker had brought a more magical friend with him, this time, probably to avoid the immediate ass-beating that he’d received from Orym and Fearne last time. Unfortunately for him, Chetney has more friends than that, and the Hells are currently engaged in a bigass fight with his dinky little squad. 

Unfortunately for Chetney, though, that mage is causing problems. They got a lucky shot off and caught Chetney by surprise with a powerful firebolt, if he had to guess, and the other one had taken great pains to try and weaken him before netting him. With their efforts combined, Chetney is currently engaged in an internal battle as his better half fights to gain control.

Normally, Chetney would be fine with this—it’s called his better half for a reason, after all—but in his weakened state, he’s not entirely sure that he’s gonna be able to maintain the level of utmost self-control he normally exudes at all times. And he really, really doesn’t want to fuck up the Hells so soon after—after whatever had happened in Issylra had left Laudna so shaken. He saw how insistent Orym and Ashton had been about letting her unwind, how Prism (who was really very unsubtle about most things) had looked right at Laudna, worried, when detailing how she’d killed the Ruby Vanguard guy with one punch. The pieces didn’t paint a pretty picture for Chetney, and he doesn’t want to make Laudna’s jitters worse.

So he’s stuck. Staring at the ground, half-growling at nothing, trying very hard to think nonviolent thoughts while half of his brain insists very temptingly that murder is always the best solution to every problem.

He’s so focused on trying not to chew his friends’ faces off that he doesn’t notice the hunter sneaking back up to try and drag him off until his hands are already around the net, tugging and bashing Chetney’s head into the stone pavement. Chetney lets out an indignant squawk that deepens into a roar, which is very embarrassing, because he was trying not to roar, but also because he would rather not squawk like that whenever something mildly inconvenient happens.

His nose is bleeding. Dammit. That’s gonna make this a lot harder.

Chetney looks up, trying to survey the rest of the fight before he makes his next move. He catches Orym’s eye for a moment, which is very, very good—the halfling’s expression immediately shifts into one of alarm, seemingly recognizing the conflict behind Chetney’s eyes on sight.

“Fuck—Chetney needs a heal, he’s doing that thing again,” Orym cries out, motioning to the silvered heap that Chetney’s currently contained in as he speaks.

Ashton swears and motions at someone from across the street, hefting their new and improved hammer, and the familiar sound of rolling wheels on stone follows. Fresh Cut Grass rolls in, more mercurial than Chetney’s ever seen them, and manages to snatch the net from the hunter (probably because they caught him off-guard, but Chetney’s still pretty impressed).

Sparks fly as their buzzsaw hand immediately sets to work on the net. It’s not the most effective thing in the world, but Chetney appreciates it nonetheless. From behind them, Ashton comes barreling into the hunter, knocking him down to the floor.

“Letters,” Chetney grits out, “you got any juice left?”

“For healin’?” F.C.G. asks. “How much do you need?”

Chetney winces, taking stock of the situation, letting himself feel everything he’s been trying to ignore to keep the beast at bay. He gets dangerously close to a growl at one point, but he manages to tamp it down and glance back up at his little friend. “A lot, I think. Sorry.”

“No, it’s—that’s fine! It’s not like it’s your fault these people came after us.”

Chetney stays very quiet for a moment and tries his best not to look guilty. Luckily, F.C.G. is otherwise occupied.

“Here, I think—“

A strange metallic crunching sound rings out across the alley. F.C.G. winces, the plates on their body shivering, and draws a hand forward, glowing with blue arcane light. The light grows and grows, consolidating around their fingertips and the indent in their chest where the Changebringer’s face stares off into the distance serenely. Chetney cocks his head, momentarily distracted from his struggling wolven instincts by the difference in light shows. Usually, F.C.G.’s cure wounds are understated, momentary, and that crunching sound was new.

F.C.G. makes a sound like an exhale, a robotic breath, and the light surrounds Chetney’s wounds, invigorating him. He gasps slightly as the feral part of his brain soothes completely, slinking back to the corners of his subconscious where it usually waits.

“Oh, boy, that stings a little,” F.C.G. says, their voice shaking slightly. Chetney frowns—the glitching seems all too familiar after what nearly happened with those birds the other day. 

“You okay, Grass?” Ashton shouts from where he has the hunter pinned and disarmed, Orym standing at his side. Laudna and Imogen are finishing off the caster, and Fearne seems to be preparing something with Mister, probably a plan to get him out of the net like she did the last time.

“Yeah, just—just a little jittery, Ashton,” he responds, shaking his metallic fingertips. For once, he actually sounds honest, and Chetney notices the tired edge to his voice. “Needed to do something to pick Chetney up fast, and it hurt a little.”

“Well, I’m up again,” Chetney pipes up, untangling himself from the net. “And it’s a good thing, ‘cause I’m not gonna let anyone hit’cha. Can never be too careful.”

[whumperofworlds]

Whump Dialogue (based on a lyric from a fan made song):

"You've wronged us for too long."