Tumgik
#c prompt
Text
Dan, bound to a clone body and experiencing a relatively calm life with the Fentons, gets de-aged by a jealous Vlad and is held hostage by the man, who wants to be involved with family things. Vlad, somehow, loses the baby.
14 years later, Jason Todd is desperately looking for his mother, only for the DNA test to match him with a 30-year-old transman and a billionaire over 60.
Oh, and his own missing person's report.
4K notes · View notes
ghostbsuter · 9 months
Text
"And? What did you decide on?" Duke asks, fork slipping from his mouth and chewing, focused on Danny.
The boy in question hums. "Oh yeah, I'm totally joining in on the nightlife."
The statement has all of them stopping in their tracks, blatantly staring at the still eating boy.
"This will be my emo arc, daylight vigilante turned dark."
Tim snorts, Jason gives a smirk, nudging the eldest sibling next to him from his frozen state.
"Ooooh," Steph leans forward. "Have you decided? Bat or Bird?"
"New name?" Cass jumps in on the questioning with a small smile, eyes crinkling.
"Will you be joining us tonight then, danyal?" His twin speaks up for the first time during dinner, eyes narrowed and calculating.
"Yes." Is the short reply, with the way damian's lips turn down and displeasure makes itself clear, the intention of giving such a short answer has been met.
"Danny," Bruce gains the attention, leaning forward with his fingers interlocked and brows furrowed with what must be worry.
"Are you sure? I don't want you to feel pressured into this just because everyone else is—"
"I'm more than sure, B!"
The man sighs. "And I won't be able to stop you?"
"Mhm." He gives a nod.
"Okay," his shoulders sag in defeat. "Do you have everything then—?"
"Yep!"
"Even—"
"B, I'm pretty sure I got everything, you can, if in your opinion I am missing something, give it to me later!"
Danny grins, pushing himself up from the table and rounding around towards the door.
"Besides! My whole get up will be a suprise!! So stay awake folks because I'm gonna blow ya all away."
As he leaves, Steph and Duke make sounds of anticipation, curiosity eating at all of them.
(They dont know whats gonna hit 'em.)
"I'm betting 50 bucks that he's gonna be a bat."
Alfred shakes his head at the newfound excitement.
What an exciting night.
There is still no sight of their newest, despite oracle's teasing, having apparently already been included in the suprise.
"Well well well," a sly, yet teasing voice makes itself into the open. Catwoman, in all her glory, walks up to the group of bats and birds.
"If it isn't the bat, what's with the gloomy face?"
Batman gives her a nod. "Cat."
Her eyes roam the group and she tilts her head. "Everyone seems to be here tonight." She comments.
"We're waiting," the man shares. "Our newest decided to be more secretive about his debut."
Catwoman gives him a smug smirk. "So I have heard," a chuckle. "I've come here to introduce you to someone, truthfully."
"Oh? Who is it?" Nightwing perks up, having finally decided to join in.
"Me."
Some yelp, whip their head around and away from the lady in black, gasps and cooing (particularly from steph) fill the roof and Danny joins them.
He wears black combat boots, they're heavy just from the look, but make no sound as he jumps around. The front of the boots look like cat paws, they're reaching up to his knees.
Then comes the baggy black pants, knees protected by poleyn and his belt acting as a cats tail. The hoodie he is wearing is also black, with fingerless gloves (only the middle finger is covered) and reaching up to his neck.
Instead of a domino mask, he wears a hood with cat ears and a dark face mask. Cass claps, knowing fully well he took inspiration from her own get up.
The whole outfit is detailed with orange spots, some parts brown and others grayish.
"Meet my new mentee, Calico."
Danny, Calico, waves.
3K notes · View notes
Text
With all the strength they had left, the hero crawled into the villain’s apartment through the window. After surviving the superhero, this should have been easy but it turned out to be exhausting.
The hero had landed in the bathroom and without wasting another second, they pulled themselves up and searched through the cabinets. Unfortunately, their bloody hands left enough evidence of them breaking in already. They supposed they’d have to face the villain sooner or later, even if that meant the villain was going to throw them out again.
For now, they found something close enough to practical — a razor — and opened the first aid kit the villain usually stored under the cabinet. Before they could take out the blades, the villain opened the door.
“You’re not as quiet as you think.” The hero looked at them and smiled softly. Teeth stained with blood, heavy limbs.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” they said. With no hesitation, the villain helped them up and took the razorblades out of their hands.
“What happened to that pretty face?” they asked. With one hand on the hero’s hip, they reached for a clean towel and turned on the sink. They let the soft fabric drench in warm water and gently cleaned up the hero’s face.
It all happened so fast. The villain didn’t seem to mind that the hero was here in the middle of the night.
And they were close. So close.
Whereas the villain was focused on the hero’s face and getting rid of all that blood, the hero stared into their eyes. Maybe it was this cruel change: brutal violence coming from someone they had adored to gentle tenderness from someone they had loathed.
The villain looked down at them. Their thumb traced the hero’s jawline and the hero looked away, almost ashamed.
“You look like shit,” the villain whispered. “And you woke me up.”
“I’m sorry,” the hero said. They looked at the villain’s clothes — their underwear and a shirt. The hero blushed a little. They took the villain’s hand and reached for the razorblades. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
The hero let go of them with a gaze that lingered a little too long.
“They chipped me,” the hero explained. They cleaned the blade with some rubbing alcohol and took in a deep breath. “Chipped me like a fucking dog.”
They cut into their own forearm, watching as the blood ran down their skin. It burnt even more than the open wounds on the hero’s back. They supposed they just had gotten used to that sort of pain, even if that was impossible.
With the blade, they dug through skin and muscle, clenching their teeth until they found the little tracker. They cursed when they pushed their fingers into the wound to fish it out.
Once they had the bloody device in their hand, they let it fall to the ground and crushed it under their boot.
“I knew trackers are useless at your place. You’ve slipped through my fingers quite a few times that way.”
The villain didn’t say anything. They just stared at the hero who cleaned their arm.
It wasn’t exactly easy to crawl to their nemesis and beg for shelter. The hero was too proud to do that anyway and they had planned to leave after cutting out the microchip.
“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” the hero said.
“You didn’t bother me.” The villain took a step forward and took the hero’s hands. “Are you alright?”
The hero frowned.
“Of course I am. I’m fine. I’m doing great.”
“You’re sure about that?” The villain let their fingers intertwine and suddenly, the hero felt very tired very quickly. “You’ve been so busy these last few days. I barely got to see you. They sent over some other lame heroes.”
The hero chuckled tiredly.
“I mean, why would they think I am satisfied with all the other rabble?” One of their hands glided down the hero’s forearm where they put pressure on the wound. “You always wanted to be a hero. When did that change?”
“I don’t know,” the hero said but the desperation and the hopelessness were already settling in. It didn’t even buy them time to lie to the villain. One way or another they found out anyway and most of the time, they asked the hero questions they already had the answers to.
The hero couldn’t really take it anymore. The pain was too much, their mind was breaking more and more.
“Oh, so many tears on such a pretty face,” the villain said. They pulled the hero closer and wiped their tears away with the back of their hand. “Don’t you know it’s not your fault?”
“They turned against me,” the hero said. Their voice trembled. “All of them. They chipped me, they put a bounty on my head. They’re trying to kill me because I don’t agree with…with all this shit.”
The villain cupped their face. “With what?”
“With all this stupid collateral damage and these dumb advertisements. Most of the time I feel like a mascot, I’m barely saving any people.”
“Oh, darling.” The villain tilted their head. Their presence was comforting in a way the hero hadn’t had experienced before. Whatever they’d done to each other in the past, the hero didn’t care. They were familiar, they were warm. The hero wasn’t going to let anyone take this moment away from them. “And who exactly beat you up like this? Your boss, I assume?”
“…yeah.” They could play pretend. They could pretend the villain was closer, that they were more than acquaintances. Even if it wasn’t real, even if the villain was using them, the hero needed some affection right now. They’d gladly give the heartbreak to their future self.
“My poor hero,” the villain said softly. “Would you let me stitch you up?”
The hero nodded.
“I’ll protect you,” the villain promised. They pulled them close to hug the hero. The hero didn’t understand why they were so gentle, so kind. Most of the time, they insulted each other like children. But the hero needed this. They really did. “They will pay for this.”
490 notes · View notes
jjoneechan · 2 months
Text
c!Dream in thought
Tumblr media
He’s wondering what kingdom is this flag from.
Looks nice. He likes the colors. Maybe they’re friendly and welcoming?
based off this prompt on twitter
Tumblr media
515 notes · View notes
grimalkinscribbles · 21 days
Note
Mhin with a feather chest (like falin from delicious in dungeon)
Tumblr media
Pov: Mhin is very reluctantly showing you the birb floof 🐦‍⬛
320 notes · View notes
eggsplice · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
They’re parasites. You know what it means to be a parasite, right, Tommy? You know it real intimately.
(Excerpt from 'when a house is both hungry and awake' by logsteds)
770 notes · View notes
bleue-flora · 2 months
Text
Ok, I recently wrote an essay [here] talking about the definition and duties of civil engineering as well as the ethics because of the brain rot @swordfright gave me with calling Dream Sam’s ultimate engineering project. So, because I actually am a civil engineer I took it upon myself to design the title and summary of quantities sheets just like I do at work for roads but with Dream as the project instead. And in honor of angst day sponsored by @sixteenth-day-event, I figured I’d share it because I feel like it kinda works for the prison of the mind prompt.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Sam’s “ultimate engineering project” he deemed too damaged like a bumpy road or crumbling building that wasn’t worthy of patching and filling in the cracks or reinforcing, that’s too eroded to be fixed and preserved. So, Sam strived to tear him down to the bedrock so he could remake, remold, and reengineer Dream according to his design for the common safety, public health and well-fair.”
{These are very similar to the actual sheets I make day to day, which I shall not share for the sake of doxing my location, but yea pretty much everything has a significance. Some of it doesn’t necessarily make sense but that was because I was more so taking inventory of what we see in lore (so you know I counted ;) lol)}
243 notes · View notes
cirrusea · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
Started this for inktober but decided to take my time with it. The prompt was "stay." It made me think of Tubbo having to go back to spy on Manburg after reporting to Pogtopia... I'm sure Tommy didn't want him to go.
976 notes · View notes
wigglebox · 24 days
Text
Tumblr media
We’re soarin’, flyin’! ☀️🌈
[Instagram prompt: Cas relearning how to fly again with Dean’s help]
197 notes · View notes
astearisms · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
he’s just a little guy
896 notes · View notes
charlietheepicwriter7 · 4 months
Text
When Mr. Lancer got promoted to Vice Principal, the school hired a new English teacher, an out-of-towner who wasn't phased by all the ghost stuff. For the first assignment of the year, he asked them to write a paper on any Shakespeare play they'd ever read.
The Monday after the paper was due, Mr. Todd asked Danny to stay after class. Danny frowned; he thought he'd done really well on the paper! He turned it in early and everything!
The teacher waited until everyone had left before asking, "Kid? Is everything okay at home?"
On the desk lay his paper, titled: "Why I Should Totally Kill My Godfather: An Essay About Shakespeare's Hamlet, I Swear".
6K notes · View notes
loudlittleecho · 2 days
Text
Danny Phantom Prompt: Too Late to Save Them
Ok! There are similar concepts floating either around here or AO3 (or both), but I haven’t been able to find this particular angst path. (Though I’m sure it’s around)
So!
Canon Divergence After TUE (The Ultimate Enemy)
Danny fought his evil self, but was too late to save his family. Clockwork didn’t reverse time to save them— they were always meant to die. It was their “time.”
-------------
“NO!” 
Danny was flown backward from the explosion, his body hurtling along with the rubble. 
The rubble. 
When the dust settled he heard sirens in the distance. Saw. . . a torn red beret beside his foot.
Tucker. 
Sam. 
His. . . 
Family. 
Distraught, confused, exhausted, Danny notices a woman crouched down beside him. She’s speaking to him, but he can’t hear her; there’s a dull buzz all around him, and the world seems more. . . narrow. It’s hard for him to focus on what he’s seeing. 
And then she. . . freezes. 
The world freezes in time. 
The ghost, Clockwork, is floating behind her. He has his hand out, waiting for something. His expression unreadable, but Danny understands. 
His fingers lightly grasp the thermos holding his future self. As though in a trance, he lifts it up to Clockwork. Gives him the thermos. 
Clockwork accepts it, continues looking at him impassively. 
Resumes time. 
. . . 
The days go by. He is released from the hospital in the care of a caseworker. She is talking to him gently, but he doesn’t hear what she’s saying. 
He's had many people talk to him, so many people gazing at him with pity. He can't be bothered to care.
He is led to a car, someone buckles him in. The car begins driving, and soon is parked in front of Fenton Works.
His home. 
The caseworker is saying something. . . Something about his aunt Alicia. He ignores her, walking into the house. 
Into the lab. 
He hears her scurrying after him.
Ignoring her cries of alarm, he goes into the portal. 
… 
He floats in the ghost zone. A few ghosts attempt to banter with him, push him around; but noticing his non reaction, leave him be. 
He can’t go home. Can’t go to Vlad. He has to keep his humanity to prevent becoming a monster. 
But how can he keep what he can’t feel?
He’s lost them all.
But he can keep his promise. 
“Don't worry. I won't turn into that. Ever. I promise.”
He floats further and further into the ghost zone. 
172 notes · View notes
Note
In need of some hurt comfort😭😭.
What about a tired, but stubborn hero and patient, lovely villain that slowly helps them rest? Know it's very cliché I just will always love itt(sorry for bad English)
Have an awesome day!
“Oh God,” the hero whispered. They kneeled on the ground of their kitchenfloor, staring at the white tiles. Their knees hurt, their shins burnt.
All they could do was stare at the broken mug in front of them.
It was getting worse and they could feel it. They were losing their mind, becoming more and more of a restless zombie that wandered around the city.
Now they were seeing shadows, they heard whispers. They forgot things easily and even lashed out more frequently. They could barely tell what kind of person they were anymore.
“Sweetheart…” The villain’s voice was clear and soft. At least the hero still understood that. They turned their head and looked up the villain. “…it’s three in the morning.”
“I…I wanted something. I think I was making coffee…?”
“I think you should be in bed right now,” the villain said. They kept their distance.
“What are you doing here?” the hero asked. Their gaze was glued on the mug again. A birthday gift from their parents.
They were saving people on a daily basis and their parents gave them a mug for their birthday? Weren’t they worth a little more than that? Hadn’t they actually achieved something spectacular in their relatively short life?
“I was actually going to…steal some documents from you. But I heard you and…” They didn’t have to say much more.
In the grand scheme of things, wasn’t the hero just as insignificant as everyone else? But their achievements couldn’t possibly be for nothing.
Or was this a sibling thing? Were their parents trying not to make the hero’s siblings feel left out? But even then, to be fair, the hero had accomplished more, they had been more successful, they had fulfilled their potential.
What more could their parents ask for?
What more could the hero give to them, except for their pure flesh and bone?
“I’m not really sure what you’re doing,” the villain said. “But I’m pretty sure you should be in bed.”
“I wasn’t asking for advice.”
“Consider me concerned.”
“Consider me annoyed.”
“You’re bleeding, do you know that?” the villain asked and when the hero looked down their hands, they could see it too. They had cut themselves on the shards of the mug and the hero had been too concerned with other things to realise it.
When had they become so sloppy?
“Goddammit…” They stood up — making their knees and ankles crack from sitting too long — and cursed quietly as the blood was running down their arms. They went to the sink and turned it on.
“…I’m not really supposed to talk to you when I’m stealing from you but, uh, are you okay?”
“I’m totally fine.” The hero turned off the water but that didn’t really help. The cuts were deep and they needed to stop the bleeding. Lost in their thoughts, they grabbed a dish towel and pressed it against their palms.
Now, the villain took a step forward. Then another. And another.
They grabbed the hero’s hands.
“Sometimes I don’t know what team you’re playing on. That’s a little scary.”
“Excuse me?” the hero asked.
“I can’t always tell if you’re one of the good guys or not,” the villain said. “Just let me be the bad guy to your good guy, okay? That would make it a little easier.”
“Are you asking me to be your nemesis?” the hero asked.
“I guess so. Get some more sleep. Don’t shoot at the good guys. Be a little…nicer?”
“Haven’t I done enough for the city? Haven’t I saved enough people already?” the hero asked. Suddenly, their anger boiled up again but their hands burnt enough to focus on that instead of that giant dark hole in their stomach.
“Isn’t that the thing about heroism? This doesn’t end. And you can’t ask for anything in return.”
“That’s how this works, huh?” The hero’s chuckle was empty. “I thought I’d be feeling more fulfilled.”
“I’m not really an expert when it comes to this but I know from experience that people turn into wild animals when they haven’t had enough sleep or enough food. You’re not thinking clearly.” Their hand landed on the hero’s forearm and slowly, they pulled them towards the bedroom.
“You’re pretty nice for a villain.” The villain took the bandages from the nightstand (the hero usually came in through the window, bandaged their wounds and passed out immediately on bad days) and started wrapping them around the hero’s palms.
“Say that again when I kick your ass on Monday.”
“We have a schedule now? Really?” The hero rolled with their eyes. Somehow, these nasty voices and shadows weren’t as bad as before. They didn’t feel the urge to be violent to get rid of them.
“Yes, I’m your nemesis,” the villain said. “And believe me, I’ll find out what’s going on with you.”
Wasn’t that going to be fun?
261 notes · View notes
jjoneechan · 6 months
Text
c! Dream Comic
tw// scars, prison escape, mental breakdown
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
DONT THINK ABOUT IT DONT THINK ABOUT IT DONT THINK ABOUT IT
Based on this twt prompt
Tumblr media
583 notes · View notes
whumblr · 3 months
Text
Whump prompt #64
"That's my mark on them," Whumper purred as Caretaker stared at the scar on Whumpee's shoulder. "They're mine. And you're not taking them anywhere."
"Oh yeah?" Caretaker snapped back. Blazing eyes found Whumpee's, who looked away in shame. But Caretaker wouldn't have it. He grabbed their face, both hands, looked them deep in the eyes.
And he kissed them full on the mouth.
Whumpee sputtered, utterly confused, embarrassed even, a hand shakily reaching up to touch over their lips as Caretaker pulled away. They stumbled lightly, but an arm snagged around theirs and pulled them against Caretaker.
"That's my mark on them," Caretaker snarled. "I can easily plant one right over yours. And they're coming home. With me!"
316 notes · View notes
puppetmaster13u · 7 months
Text
Prompt 80
 So Dan knows that there’s heroes that have gone back in time, he’s aware of that fact. But he doesn’t exactly care and has more important things to worry about. Like the fact that Danny and Ellie are now three years old, right when he’s moving, though maybe that’s a blessing in disguise seeing as the GIW are searching for them in Amity. 
  But still, he has more important things to worry about than the speedster vibrating five feet away from him. Like making sure Ellie and Danny are alright to visit (ugh) Peepaw Clocky while he goes to work. 
  Ms. Mercy is not messing around, which he appreciates in a workspace, but he has to wait for another opening in the daycare before he can bring his, as far as everyone else is aware, siblings who he got emergency custody of. 
  What with how Jazz is interning in Gotham, they figured Metropolis would be safer. Now if the speedster would stop following him, he would really appreciate it. He’s literally just an intern under Ms Mercy as an assistant, not even one of the scientists, and it’s not like his timeline of the end of the world exists anymore! 
370 notes · View notes