#all the crossovers

[mercurygray]

Short Days Ago

Several months ago I promised all the TDS girlies a special command performance by our favorite actress/dancer/comedienne. So, fresh from her record-setting bond tour with John Basilone - EILEEN HAMMOND!

Felt like a lot of nonsense, just to see a show.

Ken didn't know what business the USO had, trucking a whole bunch of dancers in here in the middle of a war. It wasn't like the Clubmobile girls, who came in their own truck and could pack themselves out at the end of the day. Everyone on the base seemed to be on high alert the whole week before they were due in, sprucing up paint and setting a stage up near one of the empty hard stands, like they didn't have anything else they should have been working on.

"C'mon, Lemmons!" one of the new fellows said with a grin on the day of the concert. "You can take an hour off!"

But he couldn't take an hour off - not really, not when everyone else was doing the same thing. They'd be on mission alert the next day and every single one of these forts needed to be able to go up and he wasn't making that mistake again. He could hear the music across the fields a little, when the wind shifted, but he wasn't missing much, he felt. He was needed here.

The show was just wrapping up when he drove by the parts store, looking to get a replacement magneto. The dancers had all come down from the stage, posing for pictures with one and all, and the biggest crowd, by far, was around a black-haired beauty with a smile that just wouldn't quit. Well, I'll be. She's back. Lemmons pulled up short and joined the crowd.

Eileen looked around the sea of faces with a big, take-all-comers grin. "You know, the last time I was here someone said I was so pretty they ought to paint me on a plane. They had a new fort in and they were looking for a name. Irish Eyes, I think they said."

Lemmons spoke up. "Yeah, sure, Miss!" The crowd parted a little, deferring to the sound of their crew chief. "She's still here. Hammond's Hornets." He pointed off into the distance, where the plane was parked out on the far side of the field. Wing damage - needed new levers in an aileron. But anyone who walked by the nose today would have seen Eileen Hammond in all her perfect pin-up glory, casting that same grin out into the sky in a yellow and black bathing suit.

The crowd around him buzzed a little, and Lemmons felt a twist in his chest. Would any of them have known that was where the name was from? After all, Rosie's Riveters were named after Rosenthal himself, not his girlfriend, and that visit had been long ago.

"And it was - it was Waitley who asked me to kiss the plane!" Eileen remembered with a grin. "Bob Waitley - from Tennessee. He was trying to go for the main chance and I told him I only had so many to go around - so he had me kiss the plane instead."

Lemmons nodded, smiling and remembering. What a joker, Waitley - always trying to get a pretty girl to catch his eye. "We painted the outline that afternoon - even tried to match your lipstick. The fellas used to touch it when they got in. For good luck."

"Is he still around?" Eileen asked, searching the crowd for a familiar face. "Bob Waitley? I don't think I saw him when I came in."

Ken felt cold. "He was… shot, ma'am." He didn't want to tell the rest of that story, about how Bob had taken a piece of flak through the thigh and bled out on the way home, and his co-pilot had brought the plane down with a dead man in the front seat and three more in the back. He also didn't want to say anything about what had come after, about scrubbing blood out of the cockpit and replacing the covers on the seats, and how they would open the cockpit windows, when crews like that came home, so the souls of the dead wouldn't stay with the plane on her next mission. Pilots were a superstitious bunch, but crew chiefs could be, too. And he'd still kept on having the crew touch up that kiss mark, though it was getting a little wavy now. Good intentions, that's all that was - nothing bad luck about a friendly kiss from a girl.

And Eileen Hammond, for all that she was a showgirl, knew what he meant when he said shot and ended his sentence early, and had enough sense not to ask more questions after.

Behind him, the newer crew was shuffling their feet. "No one told us that story about the kiss." "I just thought it was a joke." "Is that why we couldn't name it ourselves?"

"Well, I'm sure Miss Hammond has a very tight schedule," one of the pilots said quickly, noticing the frosty turn in the conversation. "We should let her get going, gents."

The crowd moved off, but Eileen stayed put, catching Lemmons' sleeve as he turned to leave. "Can I go and see them, Sergeant? If you've got time."

Ken looked her straight in the eye and realized she meant it. "Sure, Miss Hammond. I got time."

It was quiet, out here on the tarmac, speeding off to the far side of the airfield, and Eileen wasn't singing now. Her black curls were going to catch hell from this ride in the open jeep, but she didn't seem to care. Ken pulled off to the side of the taxiway and pointed where they were headed -a half-hidden mound of stones, the remnants of some ancient wall, sheltered under an equally ancient oak. The oak's spread roots had tumbled the rocks here and there, but there were plenty of crevices for dog tags and cigarettes and lucky pennies, and plenty of moss to soak up beers. Plenty of privacy to sit and remember, or to drink and forget. Here's where you bury the guys who don't come home.

"Every base has one," Eileen said, quietly. "Visit enough and you know to ask." She swallowed and looked out across the fields, the low mountains of distant planes far away. "Rather pretty out here. They have a nice view."

"Sure do, miss."

She nodded, and turned to look at the wall, smiling at the beer bottles carefully perched on the top, the half-full bottle of whiskey at the base and the series of small round stones stacked here and there. She stepped gently around the items on the ground, and kissed the largest stone, the print of her lips uneven and red on the rough surface of the rock. "There you are, Bob. A few months overdue." She stepped back to survey her handiwork and took a deep breath, in and out. Behind them the wind was in the grass, and there was a rustle in the oak overhead. All was at peace.

"Don't paint that one on, Sergeant," she said, quietly. "Wouldn't want the other fellows getting jealous."

"'Course, miss," Ken nodded. "Some times the best things fade."

She smiled at that, looking at the stone and the bottles and the way they were catching the late afternoon light. "You want me to re-do the other one? While I'm here?"

"If you like, miss," Lemmons said with half a smile. "But good luck kisses don't expire."

"Maybe so," she said with a shrug. "But it can't hurt, either, can it?"

---

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

    Loved and were loved, and now we lie,

        In Flanders fields. -In Flanders Fields, John McCrae

Though we never see this in the show, archeological excavations at Thorpe Abbotts indicate that the fliers did have some kind of memorial spot for their dead. A team from a nearby university excavated the site in 2017.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hey now, Let her cook!

[chloesimaginationthings]

Man this scene in FNAF 2 movie is gonna be wild-

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Ghosts Tell Me

~

Ghosts gather near the place where something bad is going to happen,

Danny with his ghost sense tends to notice before anyone else and tends to react outwardly before the danger even happens, gaining a reputation of seeing the future,

Ghosts also tell Danny things, causing Danny to know more about situations and the people around him, it comes of as suspicious.

~

Danny pulling away a snack from his coworker: "Careful your allergic to these ingredients!"

Coworker: "How the hell...I've never mentioned that to anyone."

~

Danny on a phone call with his friends while doing his nightly walks in Gotham: "Yeah so apparently the second Robin who is now Red Hood has very personal beef with the clown here cuz he got killed by him after being sold out by his bio mom, which really sucks for the poor guy."

Oracle who has been keeping an Eye on Danny cuz he's very suspicious from an outsiders pov: "Hey B, I think we have a problem."

~

Danny notices that the ghost in Gotham tends to gather where something bad is going to happen, the more they are the worse the situation will be: *glowing smoke leaves from his mouth* "Yikes! Very bad vibes here, nope!"

Gothamites who at this point recognize him and know the drill and quickly pack up their things to leave:

~

Just an Idea

[excali8ur]

When you meet your past lives but they're all ignoring you and freaking out over this one guy?

I've seen a few versions of this floating around with the different Leos and I wanted to have a go at doing one for Mikey. They're all collectively realising what a bus sized bullet they dodged by not ending up as messed up as Ronin

[akanemnon]

Clearly the correct answer

FIRST - PREVIOUS - NEXT

MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)

[astralpenguin]

self care is writing a fic that you’re literally the sole target audience for

[nerdpoe]

Damian, early into his stay with his Father and right at the precipice of his hatred of Tim, finds a sword. It is named Soul Shredder, and rumored to have belonged to a very strong spirit of vengeance. He decides to use it to prove he is superior to Drake.

He takes the sword, walks up behind Drake's unsuspecting form, and with one clean cut; he lops off his head.

The reaction of Father is instant; he screams. It's a hollow, broken thing. It's full of grief and rage and pain, and Damian takes one look at his Fathers eyes and knows it is time to run.

This is not a victory.

This is not an achievement.

He will not be praised.

He is going to be hunted to the ends of the earth.

He turns and flees, just in time to hear Grayson scream as well; horrified turning to enraged.

He runs from them for months. At one point even Todd joined in, congratulating Damian on making Father willing to break his code and kill the Joker if it meant help in hunting him down. After that Todd had struck, managing to take Damian's arm in a moment of weakness.

At six months, he finds himself cornered.

Grandfather and Mother had agreed with Father upon hearing how badly Damian had shamed himself, and were watching apathetically from behind the Batman.

Batman, Nightwing, and Red Hood move forward as one.

Batman, Nightwing, and Red Hood strike as one.

Damian blinks...and falls backwards, letting go of the sword he just grabbed.

Drake turns around, startled, head still attached to his neck.

Ears ringing, Damian can't hear whatever Father is saying as he pats him down for injuries. Can't hear whatever Drake says as he moves forward cautiously to do his own injury check.

All he can think of is that he has been given a second chance, and he cannot allow anything to happen to Drake.

Or; Damian touches Soul Shredder, the blade of the Fright Knight. It was in the Batcave for storage, since apparently Constantine won it in a skewed deal and didn't want it around him. As a result, he's thrown into a nightmare of his own worst subconscious fears; being rejected after doing what he was supposed to do, and losing a fight. Now, he's overly paranoid of anything at all happening to Tim.

[generalized-incompetence]

Not romantic not platonic but a secret third thing (drift compatible)

[phantom-phortune]

This is why you don't sleep with the Tyrant King - The consequence is children

Constantine avoids involvement with the Infinite Realms for two reasons.

Who wants to deal with all those Ancients in the first place?

He’s avoiding yet another unhinged ex of his.

Of course, hooking up with Pariah Dark wasn’t really an actual relationship, more like a one night stand via dream walking (Nocturn owed Pariah, but seeing as it would be insane to release the Tyrant King from his endless sleep, he’d give him a dream partner every couple centuries) - regardless, Constantine doesn’t want to deal with that.

So yeah - the fact that the Justice League is attempting to summon the High King into the Watchtower has him wanting to drink more than usual.

Of course he gave warnings, but they’re dead set on doing so. A green folder had appeared in the secure “cursed artifacts” vault with no trace of whoever left it there. How else were they gonna find out how it got there?

So Constantine’s stuck there to set up wards, and is trying to find his way out of this one.

When the summoning circle worked, no one expected the teenager to pop out of it. 

Instead of Pariah Dark, or even the sarcophagus showing up, there was a white haired ghost boy with glowing green eyes the same color as the flames of the Crown of Fire. Except he didn’t look exactly like the others ghosts. He had a human skin tone, his proportions were exactly like a human teenager’s, and he was wearing a black and white hoodie with black sweatpants, for God’s sake. 

… Were ghosts able to reproduce with humans?

Before any of the Justice League can get into questioning, Constantine speaks up:

“You’re not the Ghost King.”

Green eyes settle on him, lighting up with recognition - Danny knows exactly who this is, with the amount of complaints on his desk about the blonde. Clockwork also informed him (he didn’t want to know but now he does) of the man’s stint with Pariah. 

Daniel “Commit to the bit” Fenton chooses to do just that.

“Of course not,” The confusion crosses the face of the heroes present- “That’s just because I haven’t had my coronation yet! I’m the Crown Prince, it’s practically the same thing!”

Oh, and the dread and realization crossing Constantine’s face is almost enough to make his core purr in amusement. 

“Now I will gladly answer all your questions, but first!” His eyes swept over the heroes before raising his hand and pointing accusingly at the British warlock.

“John Constantine,” his voice boomed, the temperature of the meeting room dropping as his face stretched with a smile too big and too pointy, “You owe me fifteen years of child support.”

[mercurygray]

I decided a couple of days ago to start re-watching Poldark, just for something to do, and this afternoon a thought occured:

Poldark/Bridgerton crossover?

It would have to be late generation Poldarks, of course, Clowance and Jemmie, but I rather like the idea of Demelza chatting up Violet and giving her opinion on the marriage mart.

[fireplceashes]

evan buckley + queercoding | part 1 / part 2

for @ice-sculptures ♡

[charlietheepicwriter7]

G̴̩͍͆͆̈́e̵̹̣͆t̷̬̋ ̸̻̮̎̒ĭ̸̏̃n̵͙̋͐ ̸̛̳̃t̶̪̣̅ḣ̸̳̇͜è̵̠̲͖̔̑ ̶̢̹̖͗͐̀Wa̵̬̞͝ṫ̴̩̣̣e̶͉̲̯͂̏̎r̴̉

It was a simple mission. Damian was working with Father to confirm the existence of a Lazarus Pit below Gotham, as Ra's Al Ghul speculated. And they had found it, deep in the caves below Gotham. A Pit the size of an Olympic sized swimming pool, bubbling and steaming. He'd only looked away for a moment.

"Kin-slayer."

Standing waist deep in the water stood Damian's reflection. The hair might be white, and the eyes glowing with the waters, but it was his face. But not his face alone.

Danyal's ghost glared at him. "Get in the water."

Father threw a batarang at him, but the metal flew straight through his head like it was air. Danyal didn't even glance at him, his eyes fixed on Damian. "Get in the water," he ordered again. He stepped closer to the shore and the green water sloshed up the bank higher than it was before. "Or I'll raise the tide so high, all of Gotham will die. So get in the water."

Damian's heart jumped into throat. "Wait-"

"Get in the water."

Father shoved Damian behind him, as if it would protect him, as if he could stop Danyal. "Stop this, please-" If he could just explain-

Another step and the waters surged forward, nearly touching Father's boots. "I'll make whirlpools so profound, your entire family will drown," he promised.

"NO!" Not his brother, his kind brother-

"THEN GET IN THE WATER!" Danyal snarled, revealing monstrously sharp teeth and a black tongue from Damian's poison. "G̴̩͍͆͆̈́e̵̹̣͆t̷̬̋ ̸̻̮̎̒ĭ̸̟̰͙̏̃n̵͙̝̟̋͐ ̸̛̳̃t̶̪̣̅ḣ̸̳̇͜è̵̠̲͖̔̑ ̶̢̹̖͗͐̀w̵̜͍̤̌a̵̬̞͝ṫ̴̩̣̣e̶͉̲̯͂̏̎r̴̉͜!̷̡͔́̀̽" He lunged and Father pushed them back down the passage they'd come. "Don't mistake this for a bluff, brother. You've lived more than enough. Just get in the water." Damian swallowed, throat dry. Was this Danyal's revenge? Did he finally have to face what he had done?

"Robin, who is this?" Father snapped, trying to keep retreating down the cave. But Damian wouldn't let him; the waters, and Danyal with them, would only follow.

Danyal looked between them, scowling. "G̴̩͍͆͆̈́e̵̹̣͆t̷̬̋ ̸̻̮̎̒ĭ̸̟̰͙̏̃n̵͙̝̟̋͐ ̸̛̳̃t̶̪̣̅ḣ̸̳̇͜è̵̠̲͖̔̑ ̶̢̹̖͗͐̀w̵̜͍̤̌a̵̬̞͝ṫ̴̩̣̣e̶͉̲̯͂̏̎r̴̉͜!̷̡͔́̀̽" he snapped again. "I'll take your father and gouge out his eyes, unless you want to stop being a coward and choose to die. Now... get in the water."

[radiance1]

Okay so, Danny is a streamer. A rather small one, actually, but his viewer count is limited to Amity park due to them operating on a different server than the rest of the world.

Now, Danny has been exposed as Phantom, and the reveal went well and by extension, Vlad has been exposed as Plasmius too and they're on somewhat friendly terms.

Most of Danny's streams involves him fighting with ghosts, or exploring the zone (with a device thankfully able to survive in it with both Tucker and his parent's amazing help). Heck, some of it is even just either wandering around Amity Park or involving ghost animals of some kind.

Funny thing is, even though the reveal went good, he's doing all this as a human.

Somehow, his streams get leaked out to the wider world and some havoc is caused for a few individuals.

The Batfamily is so concerned and confused, because there was this kid? Fighting villains??? Then this same kid was also going into some place filled with what looked like some weird strain of Lazarus Water (it isn't Lazarus Water at all, actually, but they don't know that).

Meanwhile, Constantine needs the strongest alcohol available, because he's very, very certain that this kid is fighting with ghosts from the Infinite Realms and stepping into said Realms with no fear for his own life.

"And this here is where the Ghost King sleeps guys! 0/10 would not recommend waking him up, he gets cranky and I barely put him back to sleep last time!"

THIS KID HAS DONE WHAT!?

[hailsatanacab]

Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

[breesperez139]

Dc x Dp Prompt #6

“I’m a twin”, Damian said one night. He could feel the narrowed eyes of his family drilling holes on his back in disbelief. Not that he could blame them. Damian had never so much as implied being raised with a companion, much less a sibling.

“I had a brother”. Damian paused to recollect himself. He had not said his brother’s name out loud in over 8 years.

“His name was… Danyal”. Damian hated the way his voice wavered, but he could not help it. Danyal was everything to him, his other half. Their heart beat as one and when one heart stopped beating, the other one died with it. At least until his family put his heart on metaphorical life support without ever realizing.

“Where is he now?” His father asked, voice filled with knowing grief and a hint of betrayal. It had in fact been 6 years since Damian first showed up on his doorstep.

“Up there”. All eyes shifted towards the specific star he was pointing to. “Right before he died, he promised me he’d guide me from the stars. Unfortunately, the stars are not visible in Gotham, so my brother is unable to be of much help unless I leave the city.”

“Your brother is Polaris, the North Star?” Tim questioned warily, most likely in attempts to not offend him. Damian was aware of how stupid it sounded, but Danyal had promised, and his brother never broke his promises.

“Yes. Danyal is with the stars now, just as he always wanted”