wronghysteria

[voydhund]

Shaking and crying bc of a Byler fic i'm working on i can't do this i need to stare at a small kitten for the rest of my life so that i don't experience sadness

[timidpumpkin]

I am so kind of really a bit a lot obsessed with tony stark rn and idk where it came from but here it is

[foldingfittedsheets]

When I was young my dad offhandedly told me he thought people treated fish with so much casual cruelty because fish can’t scream.

The words branded themselves across my soul.

As an adult I think he may have been joking. He payed no especial attention to any indignities fish suffered in our household but I could never forget. I saw fish in a different light after that.

Fish kept in tiny bowls, breathing their own poisons, dying by inches. Fish kept in cold tanks, casually disposed of. Fish touted as being short lived when they could outlive the better loved family dog if only they could breathe. Fish casually won and discarded in cheap plastic bags, thrown away a week later.

How they would scream, if they could.

[drgnflyteabox]

mdni - implied fat!reader x bluecollar!simon riley drabble - simon is a bit of a creep also lol

Bluecollar!Simon Riley whose house floods so he has to spend the next few days in a cheap, seedy motel

First morning there he's leaving for work just as the sun is rising. Its hot, humid, and he's a shitty mood because he'll be working all day and it's only gonna get hotter

Simon Riley who smokes a couple cigs before he goes, sitting on a plastic lawn chair on his concrete faux patio when he sees you

You're flustered, damp with sweat and skin sun-kissed. You've got a laundry basket on your hip and immediately he's imagining a baby there instead. His baby.

Simon Riley who's shameless about staring at you struggling with the laundry door, dropping your clothes and giving him a view of your wide hips and plush ass in very short pajama shorts

You're so flustered:(( nearly in tears while you pick everything up. The shorts are a little tight, a little worn, and the thin material gives him just enough of a view of your pussy that it sustains him the whole day :')

All he can imagine is coming back and sinking into you :') not even necessarily fucking right away, but keeping his cock warm and relieving the tension in his body. He deserves that, no?

He's not creeping, necessarily, when he takes note of the lotion you use. Vanilla. He just happened to be having a smoke and walking right by your window, where you've got one foot propped on a chair rubbing it into your skin.

Your room is tidy. Despite the stained walls, cracks in the ceiling and overall dingy-ness, you've managed to make it look cozy.

New sheets, a fluffy blanket, string lights strung across the wall. Beside you, lotions and creams and washes - he snorts a little to himself. The bathrooms here don't have any counter space or mirrors to set them down on.

But his house does. In fact, most of his shelves are empty everywhere. His pantry, his closets. The only thing he's got are work clothes and beers in the fridge. Maybe a stray heel of bread.

Simon Riley who decides he'll have you move in before he even talks to you, before he starts memorizing your schedule on the weekends and evenings he gets home. You're struggling, on the edge of homelessness, but he knows you'd be the perfect wife and mother. That you'd bring light and warmth to his house, fill those empty shelves and empty rooms...

[lilislegacy]

*percy seen from a far, wearing a suit*

piper: do my eyes deceive me or is percy jackson wearing formal clothes? since when does he have the ability to look like a domesticated human being?

frank: how come HE, percy of all people, king of untidiness, can wear a cream linen suit and look like a celebrity, but when i tried one on i looked like a man-child going to a high school dance?

hazel: sweetie it’s just because it’s such a casual suit, and you’re much more elegant than percy is!

annabeth, turning to them: um okay, hi percy’s best friends? can you guys compliment him without insulting him?

leo: his ass looks incredible.

grover: has he been working out?

annabeth, side eyeing them:

annabeth: okay, you have all now either insulted him or hit on him. how about from now on, you do neither?

rachel: how about we do both? because i’ve actually just perfected doing them at the same time

[oldbutchdaniel]

do you guys remember when daniel "supposedly heterosexual" molloy wrote an incisive yet touching exploration of the aids crisis. based on years of reporting. while he was still in his 20s. like oh my god. oh my god.

[spottedbread]

i may have adhd

[wardingshout]

Zelda goes mushroom girl

[lostlegendaerie]

there's something deeply gutting about being a writer right now. watching studio execs brag about starving people like you out of your very house just to not pay you anything above the pennies you currently make. watching some people cheer over AO3 being targeted for a DDOS attack. the complete lack of profitability of writing commissions or writing in general in transformative spaces, especially in contrast to fanart. the pivot of so many social media platforms to be video and image based near-exclusively.

I don't know. it just makes me sad to know that the hobby that kept me alive while growing up homeschooled with dial-up internet and local antenna TV... is only ever gonna be a side job with minimal engagement. I know this site is good about supporting libraries and the concept of books but, do me a favor? Reach out to a writer friend you know. Leave a comment on your last five read stories on your favorite website.

Tell us you care.

[hajihiko]

Nice night 🌘

[bluerosefox]

Saying Sorry Will Never Be Enough

Feeling a bit angsty so I had this idea.

Danny is dating one of the Bats/Birds, and everything is going great, amazing even! They know each other secrets (from powers to everything etc), they have a wonderful place to live (even if its in Gotham), Danny is in college on the way to becoming a space engineer (and he does side jobs for unrestful ghosts), he's actually getting sleep again since leaving Amity Park, gets along with their friends and family (those who Danny or his partner still talk to, up to the writer), there is even talk about marriage and perhaps adoption/kids in the future between Danny and the Bat/Bird he's dating!

Everything is setting up for a good life in his future, something Danny didn't think could have after his accident. He was happy finally, and currently packing up his old apartment because he's moving in with his partner in a few days.

So he felt like his core was being pulled out of him when he opens his apartment door one day receiving a knock to find his parents, who had hadn't seen since they kicked him out of the house after coming clean about being Phantom (their words of anger and denial that their son was 'dead' and now a monster, still hurt)

Sure they didn't attack him or proclaim he's dead but still their last words and anger HURT.

Danny didn't give them a chance to open their mouths, both looking nervous and guilty, before he slams the door close and turns invisible, grabs his phone, and fly's out of his apartment to his partner's place in a panic attack.

His partner, isn't happy.

[confessedlyfannish]

Writing Prompt #14

"You foolish, stupid child," Vlad hisses, pinning Danny to the wall. Danny's eyes turn green as he wraps both his fists around the one Vlad has clenched in his collar, his feet dangling in the air. Vlad leans in, his own eyes burning red.

"When, exactly, did you plan on telling me your biological father was Bruce Wayne?" he says furiously.

Danny's hands drop in surprise. "W-What?" he gasps.

Vlad drops him unceremoniously and he lands on the floor in a heap. Vlad claws at the air in frustration.

"Don't lie to me, boy." Vlad says, omitting his often used possessive "my" in front of "boy".

"How do you know that?" Danny asks warily, propping himself up. He watches Vlad push a shaking hand through his hair. The man looks down at him before dropping in an ungainly squat beside him.

"Of all the sperm donors, Bruce Wayne, Daniel? Really?" The man asks, despairingly.

"I didn't exactly choose him, Vlad."

"No, I suppose you didn't."

"Seriously," Danny says, watching the man rock back on his heels as a growing pit forms in his stomach. "How did you know about him?"

Vlad's mouth twists bitterly. "Because he now knows about you."

"What do you���"

"Vladdy! Danno! What are the two of you doing on the floor?" Jack flops down beside them, a tray of freshly prepared fudge in his hands. "We having a heart-to-heart boys? Let me in on this!"

"Jack," Vlad says. "If you truly want to have a heart-to-heart with your son, I suggest you tell him the real reason I've come over today."

Jack's face falls.

"Vlad," Maddie says from behind him. "Thank you for coming. We're grateful for all you've done, but I think we can handle it from here."

"Madeline," Vlad says, rushing to his feet. "I must insist—"

"And I must insist you see yourself out," Maddie smiles tightly. "You know where the door is, don't you?"

"Mads," Jack says gently, looking between the two.

"I can show him out," Danny says, getting up as well.

"That's alright, Danny," Maddie says. "Why don't you go get your sister? We need to have a talk...as a family."

Danny glances at Vlad.

"Now, Danny," Maddie says. Danny heads for the stairs, pit growing ever larger.

--

The next time they meet it is Danny who has Vlad pinned, the gaudy chandelier above him shaking with the force of his rage.

"You should've told me," Danny growls.

"I thought your parents had you informed," Vlad says, utterly unbothered by the teen cracking what is thankfully not a load-bearing wall of his mansion. "Honestly Daniel, we could throw around allegations of deception on both sides, particularly mine as I assume you've known for quite some time now, if not the entire time, about your father hmm?"

Danny's eyes flick away in an obvious tell.

"Yes, I thought as much. But rather than whinging about being blindsided, I suggest we focus our energy on the solution."

Danny drops Vlad, barely biting back a snarl when the man lands gracefully on both feet.

"Which is?" Danny asks.

"First of all, your well-meaning but frankly moronic parents seem to believe that they can make a case for your custody without the assistance of my legal team. It is in both of our best interests to dissuade them of this."

"They don't like feeling indebted, Mom in particular."

"Well, to be crude for a moment Daniel, tough shit. Yes," Vlad says in response to Danny's widening eyes, "I said it. Bruce Wayne has the best of the best on his payroll and your parent's rinky-dink attorney from the local practice won't stand a chance against Friedman & Sons. Especially once he establishes paternity."

"He can do that?" Danny asks. "I mean I'm almost eighteen, can't I just refuse?"

"The keyword here, Daniel, is almost. As in, you are not. The judge can take your wishes into consideration, but I suspect Wayne will make a case for an unsafe living environment alongside his paternity to win his petition for full custody."

"Un-unsafe living environment?" Danny sputters. Vlad eyes the boy dryly before gesturing to all of him, currently clad in silver and black hazmat. Danny drops the transformation with a wince.

"In fact, I suspect that's the main reason the man filed in the first place," Vlad continues. "Lord knows he doesn't need anymore heirs to fight over his fortune once he passes—"

"Jesus, Vlad,"

"—so I believe he did some digging and found your home to be, well, wanting. On paper, Daniel, your parents sound eccentric at best, dangerous at worst. Pull the right strings, and hospital records just fall into laps. He probably thinks he's rescuing you." Vlad sneers. "If only he knew how quick you are to spit in the face of one offering you a comfortable and wealthy home."

"Fuck off," Danny says. "Is that what this is about? If you can't have me, no one can?"

Vlad rolls his eyes. "Come now, Daniel. Are you really intending to keep up this pretense?"

"What are you talking about?"

"We agreed a long time ago that no matter the nature of our quarrel, we would leave the Justice League out of it," Vlad says, taking a menacing step forward. "You think I, running in the circles I do, would have no knowledge of Bruce Wayne's alter-ego?" He takes another step, voice rising. "I have avoided drawing The Batman's attention for years, no matter how often our paths crossed. I stayed under his radar for decades, and now, BECAUSE OF YOU, I AM ABOUT TO BE RUINED."

With a creak and a groan, the chandelier drops, landing between them with a crash. Danny coughs from the dust as Vlad takes a heaving, calming breath.

"Then why get involved at all?" Danny asks, staring at the ground.

Vlad sighs, clapping his hands twice. Several ghosts dressed in service uniforms fly out the woodwork, gathering up bits of chandelier as others begin to mop.

"Because, little badger," Vlad says, walking away from the mess. "If we lose this, he'll have you in the palm of his hands. Which is infinitely worse."

Entering the kitchen, he pulls an open bottle of white out of the kitchen fridge and pours himself a glass, throwing a Fiji water to Danny who takes it for the peace offering it is.

"He won't."

"Won't what, Daniel? Please speak in full sentences."

"Won't have me," Danny says, letting a thin coat of frost spread over the bottle. He tips the freezing cold water into his mouth and wipes his face with his sleeve, mostly to see Vlad grimace.

"Why, because you'll run away if he wins? Until you turn eighteen? I won't have you fail to complete your education because of a cockamamie scheme, Daniel—"

"Because I have a solution, Vlad, one that doesn't involve the courts or running away."

"And what is that, exactly, Daniel?"

--

"You're going to leave my family alone."

"Danny," Mr. Wayne says, blinking in surprise at the boy on his doorstep and miles away from Illinois.

"I mean it," Danny says firmly. "You're going to drop your petition and whatever smear campaign you were planning on and leave the Fentons alone."

"Danny...why don't you come inside?"

Danny takes a step back from the manor's large doors. "You want a relationship with me? Brute force isn't the answer."

Bruce takes in the teenager, lanky but almost to his eye level. His eyes are clear and sharp, his demeanor forcibly calm.

"I debated whether going through the court was the right thing to do," Bruce says slowly, matching calm with calm. "But I wanted to be above board."

"Because my adoption wasn't?" Danny says, arms crossed. "Yeah, I'm aware. Kinda hard to adopt a kid that doesn't legally exist. And I know what you're going to say, the Fentons should've reported me to the system, but they didn't do it because I begged them not to. Because I didn't want my biological parents to find me."

"Danny..."

"You can swing your dick around and get your way, exactly the way I thought you would do things," Danny says, "Or you can have a relationship with me on my terms. A relationship where I don't despise you because you took me away from the people who've loved me no matter their faults."

"You're asking me to choose your happiness over your safety." Bruce says carefully.

"That's bullshit," Danny says. "I had a lab accident when I was fourteen and went directly against my parents' instructions. They trusted me, and I made a mistake."

"It's not a matter of trust. You were a child, Danny, and you almost died." Bruce says, not bothering to feign ignorance. Footsteps echo behind him.

"Bruce?" A voice calls. "Is that..?"

"Your son did die," Danny says. "He took a flight with your credit card to Ethiopia and got blown up. I bet you trusted him too."

Bruce reels back as a hand lands on his shoulder, the other on the door.

"Whoa, whoa, uh, Danny, right? I'm Tim, I'm—"

"I know who you are," Danny says, clenching his fists. Powering through the hurt he is causing. "I didn't come here to point out what a total hypocrite you are. I just want you to back off. And if you give me your number, we can text and I'll come to Gotham for Thanksgiving or the ski chalet in Vermont or your villa in where-the-fuck-ever and you can be Uncle Bruce that I maybe even tolerate being around once in a while. Just leave my family alone."

"Bruce, what is he talking about?" Tim asks. "Back off of what?"

"Your Dad is suing my parents for full custody," Danny says when it becomes clear Bruce isn't answering.

"What?" Tim hisses, turning to Bruce. "That isn't what we talked about!"

"Danny. I..."

"Here," Danny says, thrusting an index card forward that he's scrawled his phone number and email onto. On the other side is the past participle conjugation for 'venir'. "I won't answer until you drop the custody petition. Which I expect you to do by tomorrow morning."

"Done," Tim says, stepping past Bruce and taking the card. "Give me about noon to get it all squared away with the lawyers. Do you have a hotel? A way home? I'd be happy to reimburse your flight and accommodation."

"Overstepping already."

"Fair enough," Tim says coolly, raising his hands. "Our lawyers will reach out when it's settled."

"Great. Bye." Danny says, turning to leave. He waits until he hears the manor door close behind him before pulling out his cell phone.

Ring!

Ring!

"Hello?"

"It's done."

"What's done? Again, little badger, full sentences, I beg of you."

[ayilings]

they’re formative yaoi to me

[luxaofhesperides]

a safe place to rest - duke

(part 3 of the harmless series)

Although he hears about the baby, Duke doesn't get to meet her for a few days.

He does meet someone else though: Danny.

"You need anything before I go?"

He doesn't want to leave Danny alone in the Hatch. Not out of mistrust or anything, but because he's sure that the moment he looks away, Danny's going to disappear again. It took so long just to convince him to take a moment to breathe, to rest and recover from whatever he's gone through.

There's a frantic sort of energy surrounding Danny that has his aura all messed up, which is the only reason Duke decided against letting anyone else know that he found Danny.

He got the basic rundown from the night shift, but he hadn't had time to look more into it before Danny was crashing into him during his day patrol, eyes wide and wild and looking like his world had just ended.

"You," Danny had gasped, "You're with—Batman? Please, take these." And he shoved a bag against Duke's chest.

He had to react fast to grab it, and then grab Danny when he all but collapsed against him.

Now, he sits on top of the spare bed Duke set up in the Hatch, pale and tired and quietly devastated. "I'm fine," he insists. "You don't need to do anything for me."

Duke frowns. "Uh, I absolutely do, you think I'm just gonna leave you to fend for yourself? Come on, man, that's not how I do things."

"You don't owe me anything."

"Obviously not. It's not about owing things. I'm doing this because you need help and I can give it."

"I can take care of myself," Danny says firmly, and Duke holds back a sigh. Yeah, this guy really is Batman's kid. Horrible self-care habits and all.

"You don't gotta, though. You get that, right? You can take one day off and just rely on me to take care of you until you're back on your feet."

"No."

Duke tries to shove his emotions down, to stay neutral and calm. This is a guy who came crashing into their lives, shoving a baby into Damian's arms, and then vanishing. This is a guy who's gone through way too much on his own. Of course he's not going to trust anyone. Duke knows well how heavy everything becomes when it feels like the world's against him. He can give Danny grace.

"Okay. Just so you know, I'm asking to be polite. I'm still going to grab some extra clothes for you, and a homemade meal, so you just stay here and get some sleep. We'll talk more when I get back from delivering all this to Batman." He lifts the bag Danny gave to him for emphasis, then pins the guy down with a hard stare. "You better be here when I get back, or I am going to have no one to show baby pictures to."

"…You're gonna check on Ellie?"

The clear concern and desperation in Danny's expression make him soften. "Yeah, man. I'll check on her and let you know how she's doing. That's why you gotta be here when I get back. Got it?"

Danny bites his lip, then nods slowly. "Yeah. Got it. Thank you."

"Get some sleep."

Duke pulls the door shut, setting the alarm system to quietly alert him if anyone goes in or out while he's not in the Hatch. There's a first aid kit on the table and some water bottles as well, but it's not going to be enough to really help Danny start to recover. Duke takes a moment to curse his past self for not better stocking his crash room for emergency visitors, but in his defense, he isn't in the habit of bringing anyone back to the Hatch, not even other Bats, when the Batcave is more suited for handling lots of people.

Well, it's something to work on in the future.

He doesn't get more than a few steps away when he hears the door opening behind him and looks back to see Danny poking his head out.

"Hey, before you go…"

"Yeah? What's up?"

"Can you maybe not tell anyone I'm here? I'm assuming you know who I am, since you know Ellie."

"Yeah, your Batman's first lost kid, right? Trust me, I've heard of you."

Danny winces. "Great. Figures. I just really need to not deal with all of them right now, so if you could keep all this quiet…"

Duke looks him over, takes in the paleness of his skin, how worryingly thin he is, the dark half-moons stamped under his eyes, and promptly decides then and there that the rest of the world is going to have to go through him to even think about going near Danny. It's a complicated situation he's in and if he needs time to prepare himself for meeting everyone else, who Duke knows from personal experience can be a lot, then Duke is going to make sure he has all the time he needs.

"You got it man. They won't hear a thing about this from me. I'll lock everyone else out of here, too, so you can rest easy. They ain't getting in here to bother you while I'm still around."

"Thank you," Danny says again, sagging against the doorframe. "I'm… I really need to sleep."

"Go crash," Duke says softly. "I can take care of things until you wake up."

Bruce is the only person in the Batcave when Duke arrives. He's bent over the Batcomputer, head in his hands, when Duke parks his motorcycle and heads for the stairs to meet him on the upper level. He keeps his footsteps purposefully loud so Bruce can track him as he makes his way over, Danny's bag slung over his shoulder.

"Rough night?" he asks, just to get the conversation started.

"Yes," Bruce sighs. "There have been a number of—changes."

"Oh. Good changes or bad changes?"

Bruce lifts his head as he considers the question, then rubs his temple. "Unclear. It's nice to see everyone working together for Ellie, but I'm—concerned."

"About what?"

"About Ellie. And everyone. And Danny."

Duke leans his weight against the desk and lets the bag drop off his shoulder, then holds it out to Bruce. "Well. I dunno if this will make things any better, but Danny threw this at me while I was on patrol. I took a quick look through it and, uh. It's kinda rough. It's what he went through and how Ellie was created."

Bruce snatches the bag from his hand and immediately begins rooting through it. "Is Danny—?"

"He vanished as soon as I grabbed the bag. I think he's got a few loose ends to tie up before he feels comfortable being here again."

"What did you think of him?"

Duke looks at Bruce, looks at the papers in his hands, and thinks of Danny. "I think he needs someone in his corner. I think we gotta lot to do to make the world safer for him and Ellie. I think he's been scared for a very long time."

Nothing in Bruce's expression changes, and there's no shift in his aura, his emotions tightly locked up as always. But Duke hasn't gotten this far without learning how to see the little things: Bruce's grip on the bag tightens, his feet shift farther apart, as though he's ready to leap up at a moment's notice, and his shoulders slump just slightly under the heavy weight of all the things he refuses to share.

Sighing, Duke tilts his head to look at Bruce more closely. "Why are you down here? It's the middle of the day."

"I'm researching."

A hand loosely gesturing to the large screen of the Batcomputer has Duke turning to see what Bruce has been so occupied with.

It's not case files, as he expected. It's not even research into Danny and what happened to him.

All that's there is PDFs upon PDFs of child psychology papers and essays on recovering from trauma and research on various methods to help children with failure to thrive and malnutrition and neglect.

There's also, in one window, different safety ratings of baby cribs.

Well. Let it be known that Bruce's love language is information.

"Cool. Have you spent any time with anyone since a baby got dropped in your lap?"

Bruce's silence is extremely telling.

Duke briefly considers trying to get Bruce to go upstairs, but he knows better than to pick a losing battle. Especially after he's handed him information on Danny.

At some point, Bruce will have to go upstairs, if only to eat. He's getting old, and his body can't quite keep going like it used to. Duke will let him deal with the consequences of his own actions, or lack of action, when that time comes. He's not a mediator or peace-keeper. Duke has other pressing matters to attend to.

Taking pictures of the baby for Danny is definitely more important than navigating the minefield of family tensions and miscommunications ever present with the Waynes.

Duke reaches out and claps a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Don't get so caught up in getting all the pieces together that you forget to actually spend time with family. They're gonna need you now more than ever," he says, and waits until Bruce meets his eyes and gives a resolute nod before Duke stands and heads for the stairs that will take up him to the manor.

The sooner he gets back to Danny, the better.

Ellie is cute.

This isn't a surprise. Most babies are cute, and Ellie is no exception.

What Duke hadn't been expecting is how protective Damian is of her, or how everyone else orbits around the two, just on the edge of hovering. Damian's prickly personality is well known, so the rest of the Waynes have taken to acting like cats: always on the same floor, ready to pop in should they be needed, but otherwise out of sight.

"Thomas," Damian greets quietly. Ellie is asleep in the baby wrap keeping her secure against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. Damian lowers his paintbrush, turning to give Duke his full attention.

Duke takes a hesitant step into Damian's studio, then walks up to him once he isn't hissed at to leave.

"So this is our newest troublemaker, huh?" he says, looking down at Ellie. "How's she doing?"

She's so small. Her head has some black hair on it, but it barely covers her ears.

Damian lays his brush down on the easel. "She's doing much better now that she's getting regular meals and care. She still doesn't make much noise. It is… concerning."

The raw fear and care in his gaze is what makes the words tumble out of Duke's mouth. "I have some news about Danny."

If anyone deserves to know about him, it's his little brother.

Damian's gaze snaps up to Dukes, a fierce light in them, and his hands raise to hold Ellie tightly. "What is it?"

"He gave me a bag while I was patrolling, then left. I looked through it before giving it to B, and it's all… I only read the papers, not anything on the flashdrives, but Danny went through some awful shit. He was captured and experimented on by some group called NOVA. They had him for some time doing tests before he was put in isolation for acting out. And then he kinda… went into a death-like stasis. They did more tests and took some bio-material from him to try to figure out how he was surviving in stasis, and used that to make Ellie with the genes of one of the other captured metas. Danny was in stasis for around seven years."

Reading about it, learning about what Danny went through made Duke's stomach turn. It was like something out of a nightmare. Duke knows the fears metas have to live with; he carries it too, a weight he can never put down.

There's a reason civilian metas try to keep their powers a secret. Metas go for a high price on the black market, are at a higher risk of human trafficking, are seen as the best test subjects by unethical scientists wanting to find some way to replicate those powers in other people or in weapons.

Summarizing the horrors Danny had to experience leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. The silence in the studio stretches long enough for Duke to regret opening his mouth. Damian's still a teenager. He may have had a different upbringing and be able to stomach what most people can't, but this is still his brother. Anyone would be rattled hearing about this.

Then, without a word, Damian stands. He storms out of the studio, leaving Duke to catch the stool he was sitting on before it hits the ground and wakes Ellie.

When he goes to catch up with Damian, the kid is already walking into another room, tension in every line of his body.

"Richard," he snaps quietly, and Duke watches as Dick pops up from where he was lounging on the floor on one of the softest rugs in the manor.

"Dami? What's wrong?"

Damian doesn't answer, just unwraps the baby sling and carefully passes a still sleeping Ellie over to Dick.

"Damian," Dick tries again, his voice hardening, demanding an answer even as he adjust Ellie in his arms to make sure she can continue sleeping comfortably.

"I need to speak with Father," Damian answers shortly. "I will be gone for some time. I am entrusting her to you."

Dick glances at Duke, who tries not to look too stressed or tense. He doesn't think it works.

Reaching out, Dick puts a hand on Damian's head, managing to ruffle his hair for a few seconds before Damian steps away, batting at his hand with a scowl. "Alright," Dick says, "But I'm sending someone to get you for dinner if you're not back by then."

Damian nods, then turns on his heel and leaves for Bruce's office.

Neither of them move until they're sure that Damian is out of earshot.

"What was that about?" Dick asks, lowering himself down onto the rug again, one hand rubbing small circles against Ellie's back.

Duke sighs. "You'll find out soon. Just... chill for now and let me get some cute baby pictures."

Dick, as he finds out, is actually pretty good at helping Duke get the cutest pictures of Ellie.

And when Ellie blinks her little blue eyes open, Duke's heart melts and he understands how she's got everyone wrapped around her fingers.

NOVA, whatever remains of them, is going to regret ever hurting Danny and Ellie.

Danny is asleep when Duke returns. He sleeps through the night, and when Duke wakes up early the next morning to make sure he hasn't disappeared, Danny remains motionless in his bed.

Is he in stasis again? Duke wonders, panicked, as he rushes into his crash room and gently shakes Danny, trying to wake him up.

It takes a few tries before Danny lets out a soft noise in the back of his throat. He turns his face into the pillow, then abruptly tenses up and shoots out of bed. In a blink, Danny's on the other side of the room, flying up to the ceiling where Duke can't easily reach him.

Hands up, palms open, Duke says, "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. How're you feeling?"

Danny sucks in a few deep breaths before he slowly floats down to the floor. His eyes are still too wide and there's a faint tremble in his hands. "Fine," he answers blankly.

"Up for eating something? I did promise you food and baby pictures."

Unsurprisingly, it's the mention of Ellie that gets Danny moving and brings some light back to his eyes. He follows Duke out into the main room of the Hatch. There's not really a kitchen in here, but there is a fridge and a microwave, which is enough for now.

One of his workstations has been cleared off and now has chairs around it to turn it into a makeshift dining table. On it, Duke's left a tupperware of French toast, made the way he remembers his dad making them when he was a kid, and as well as a store-bought container of cut fruit.

It's not really a lot, but it's what he could do on a short notice.

Danny takes a seat, and Duke settles in on the other side of the table, pulling out his phone to flip through the many pictures he took of Ellie.

Duke keeps up a light commentary as Danny slowly eats, sharing little stories about the Waynes and all the nonsense they get up to. That turns into sharing stories about the stupid shit he and his friends gets into, followed by some of the weirdest things criminals have done to try to get away from him, including the one that said 'nuh-uh!' when Duke said carjacking is the lamest crime to commit in Gotham.

That story gets Danny to smile, and it takes way too much effort to keep from celebrating it.

All the while, Danny slowly looks through each photo of Ellie, making sure she's okay. He looks so fond and sad that it's breaking Duke's heart, and he swears to himself then and there that he's going to do whatever he can to reunite them.

"Don't you have hero things to do?" Danny asks. It's the first thing he's said since they both sat down.

Duke shrugs. "Nah, not right now. Gotham can wait. You're my priority right now."

"You don't have to—"

"Nope. If you don't want anyone else to know you're here, then you're gonna have to deal with me."

Danny squints at him. "You're both very chill and very stubborn."

"It's the only way I was able to survive working with the other Bats."

"They sound… interesting."

"You can say they're a hot mess," Duke laughs. "But hey, who isn't?" He watches as Danny pushes around the last half of the French toast around the tupperware and straightens up from where he was leaning on the table. "Want me to put that up for you? You can finish it later."

Danny looks down at his plate, then slowly nods. "Yeah. Sorry."

"No worries. You went through some shit. It's not surprising that you don't have much of an appetite." Duke reaches over the table to pop the lid back on the tupperware, then stands to put it in the fridge.

When he turns back, Danny is no longer visible.

Or, at least, his physical body isn't visible. Duke can still easily see his aura, a vibrant green that has streaks of white moving through it like a current of water, which leaves an outline of his body. Danny is also trying to sneak out of the Hatch.

"Oh," he says, "I didn't know you had invisibility. That's pretty cool. I can still see you, by the way."

Danny becomes visible again, glaring at Duke.

"That's such a Batman move," Duke grins, "I should have expected it."

"What was a Batman move?"

"Sneaking away as soon as I turned around. B does that all the time with the Commish. And everyone else, honestly. Though, to be fair, we all do it because we all learned from him. Yeah, you'll have no trouble fitting in with us."

"I don't think what I'm doing should count, since I'm using powers."

"Dude, watch this."

Duke makes sure Danny's looking at him, then bends the light around him to hide him from view. He can see the exact moment Danny realizes he's vanished when his eyes go wide and he takes a few steps closer.

"Signal?"

"Still here," Duke reassures. "Haven't moved an inch." Then he releases his grip on the light around his head, a fun little trick he figured out a few years ago that makes it look like he's a floating, decapitated head. The goons always love that one.

Danny looks at his head. Looks at his invisible body. Then looks back to his head. "That is freaky," he says, a slow smile dawning across his face. "I can do that too."

And sure enough, Danny's body becomes invisible, save for the outline of it in his aura, and now there's just two floating heads in the Hatch.

He's not sure who cracks first, but in no time, they're laughing like everything's alright. Danny's expression brightens and suddenly he's years younger, all the stress falling off his shoulders in the face of their mirth. Like this, he could be any other guy in one of Duke's classes, talking nonsense just to pass the time, quick to laugh and without a care in the world.

This is what he wants for Danny.

This ease, this calm, this lightness in his heart: Duke will keep them safe for Danny.

If nothing else, Duke can be a safe place to land for another meta who needs, more than anything, someone willing to be there for him.

(masterpost for all parts)

[athina-blaine]

images saved under folder titled "actual 22-year-old who should have been at the club 😭"

I know there's this idea in fandom that Kabru is already in a place where he's able to easily shoulder others' burdens, or that maybe taking care of someone else would teach him how to better take of himself. I'm sure a huge part of that comes from his fairly utilitarian role in the main story (he doesn't really get the chance to be vulnerable or break down outside of maybe ch 76), but I just don't subscribe to that. If anything, I think it would be excessively easy for him to continue neglecting his own needs if it's for the sake of other people, especially for someone he cares about 👇

I think it's important that, in the end, Kabru isn't the right person to say what Mithrun needs to hear here. The only desires Kabru offers up to Mithrun are Kabru's own desires to help others with their needs; "I want you to live a life that isn't driven by revenge", "I want to help my friend by eating my fill" (as beautifully illustrated by @yuri-puppies here). Mithrun says, "I wanted to die and part of me still does", and Kabru thinks that this is an acceptable thing to feel so long as Mithrun is able to keep his promise and be useful to others. It takes Senshi offering the idea that scraps are useful no matter what that Mithrun is able to finally feel relief. Just look at the difference between,

versus

which I think is a message Mithrun needed to hear as much as Kabru does. All this to say, I hope Kabru is able to get to the point one day where he feels safe and secure enough to put his own wants and needs first, even when it helps no one but himself

[angies-writing-blog]

Trapped beneath his weight is your body, every muscle tensed, but against his raw strength, you stand no chance. Sun Wukong looms over you, his eyes glowing with a dark, unforgiving light that brooks no dissent.

As he holds you mercilessly, your breath comes in ragged gasps. His claws rake across your skin, carving deep lines that burn and bleed. First, a gentle scrape, then a sharp bite—you feel his teeth at your neck, sinking into your flesh, wanting to take a piece of you, to mark you as his forever.

With a force that shows no regard for restraint, he thrusts into you. You feel him cross every boundary, as if he's forgotten that you're made of flesh and blood, fragile in your humanity.

Each thrust is an unrelenting claim on you; his claws dig into your hips, pulling you harder against him. Your body trembles under the intensity, and though you want to resist, you find yourself helpless in his grip, caught between desire and fear. Meanwhile, his teeth are everywhere—nibbling, biting, tearing at your skin as though he intends to possess you completely, as if every fiber of your being is meant for him alone.

The heat of his breath, the sting of his touch, the sharp claws piercing you—all of it blends into a whirl from which there is no escape. You are his prey, and Wukong hunts you to the brink of your endurance. His deep moans merge with yours, a wild, animalistic sound that makes you believe he would continue even if all strength left your limbs.

Then, after a final, deep thrust, he collapses over you, his body trembling with unbridled power. You feel him come inside you, hot and unstoppable, an ultimate claim on you that embeds itself in every fiber of your being. His claws dig deeper into your skin as his breath crashes against your ear, a silent cry that speaks of all his passion and power. Finally, his arms wrap tightly around you, as if he'll never let you go, and with every deep breath, you feel him claim you forever.