#I would like to add that Damian is like a raging fire reading to burn everything in his path

[dead-girl-tells-stories]

DC x DP Idea

After several years, Danny and Damian meet each other again at a gala. But there was no heartfelt reunion since the moment they led eyes on each other it was all-out war. Damian takes out a sword from somewhere and Danny just starts throwing hands.

The fighting is intense, and blood is being spilled (what are those glowing green specks?). They are screaming at each other in Arabic as it's easier to slip back to your mother tongue when in rage right? This makes the fight more personal.

Most people don't understand what they're saying but those who do look at the boys then Bruce. Bruce then back to the boys again. Like B, we know you're stupid but you fucked this person twice.... did you NOT see the red flags the SECOND TIME!?!?

The fight ends with Damian on the ground with the sword grazing his neck. He looks up to Danyal with the fear of god in his eyes, knowing that with one swift movement, he'll be dead on the dance floor. But Danny's eyes were cold and tired, they were dead. No spark, no sense of life in those chilling blue depths.

Calmly, Danny spoke to Damian. His voice was crystal clear, cool like a mountain stream.

"Just because you jumped into the fire behind me doesn't mean you felt the pain I did.  Your hand was held above the flames while I was being burnt in the fucking fire."

Damian begins to cry because he knows that Danny is right. No matter what he went through, it would never compare to what happened to his big brother. Even more so, when he feels long lanky arms wrap around him, a cool hand rubbing his back soothingly, and whispers of sweet nothingness entering his ears.

He cries because no matter what he does he will never be like his big brother.

[rason-rodd]

Nightwing: The Rise of Flamebird (Chapter 2)

Summary: Nightwing and Flamebird were two ancient Kryptonian gods, yet completely opposite. He was darkness and rebirth, tasked to hunt the evils in the shadows. She was fire and destruction, born to annihilate the creations of her mate, Vohc The Builder. Destined to fall in love and achieve great things but fated to be separated.That’s the story Dick Grayson and Terry Olsen heard. Strange that it is also, somehow, their story

Major Pairing: Nightwing/Dick Grayson x Flamebird/Original Female Character

Chapter Summary: Terry moves in Blüdhaven with her long-time boyfriend, still unsure this was a good idea. In the meantime, Nightwing is meeting Detective Svoboda to talk about some mysterious child disappearance.

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A fresh start. He thought that it was what they needed. He thought that it was what could save their couple, what would rekindle the flame, that ‘intense love they had once for each other’. Those were his words. But she was not so sure he was right.     Actually she did not know if they could save anything, if they could forget, if they could move on. Too much had happened lately. She had hurt him, again, this time even more than the one before. She had broken his heart as she would always break everything around her, everything she cared for or everyone that cared for her.             Their couple was like their new apartment. Looking new, willing to be cosy but still smelling like humidity and mould and feeling so cold. The white walls perhaps, or the angular Scandinavian decoration with its sharp triangles patterns. Trendy according to magazines, but she hated it.

Terry was finishing unpacking the dishes, occasionally popping the bubble wrap between her small fingers, when she felt her boyfriend’s arms around her waist and his lips in her neck. “Do you like our new place, baby?” She stiffened lightly. It had become a reflex.     She turned around and smiled to please him. And as usual, he didn’t see how fake it was. “Great. Cause I really want us to feel like home here.” He moved a wavy strand of blond hair away from her face and gazed at her with his deep brown eyes. “I think this is our chance to start from scratch” “So do I” She lied. And he grinned sincerely before catching her by the hips again to kiss her with a burning passion, his hands wandering from her back down her behind. But the only thing he got in return was coldness. His sudden eagerness left her indifferent. Worse, it left her uncomfortable. His thin lips now in her neck, she could only picture him as a leech stuck to her. And she hated herself for that.

Josh was the perfect boyfriend. But he was not made for her. They first met when they were both students at Metropolis University. She was studying Criminology and Psychology. He was in Med School and a Football player, which made him one of the most coveted guys on Campus. But he had only eyes for her, the pencil in her bun when she was studying at the library and the way she was glowering at him when he was bothering her late at night asking if she had Wi-Fi in her room. “Worst way to flirt, ever”. Or not. His persistence bore its fruit and few months later they were moving in together. But the joy, the excitement and the passion didn’t last and soon faded. “It’s not you it’s just … me.” Cliché but true. She left him. He came back. They tried again. She left him. He came back. They tried again. And on. And on. And on.   Josh and Terry’s relationship was based on ups and downs. But as he would see more ups, she would see more downs. Because that was just Terry: realistic and not as in love with him as he was in love with her.

“I don’t want to, Josh. Not today” She said to calm his ardour. He didn’t grumble or sigh but she could see he was frustrated. And she could understand why. Months had passed since the last time they had sex. The two students hooking up among boxes, books and notes were long gone. Today they were just two lonely people, one with his face buried in the sand, thinking that all this was just an umpteenth insignificant ordeal that they’ll eventually go through, the other not really knowing why she was still here and why she was still giving hope to the man who loved her. “ Are you stressed because of tomorrow?” He tried to change the subject as always. She sighed, popping the bubble paper in her hands even quicker. Tomorrow was her first day at Blüdhaven Police Department. “Do you remember that feeling we had when we’re kids and we’re about to enter middle school?” “New class. New teacher. No friends?”           He tried to guess with a wide smile. She nodded. “Yeah. Scary right?” He laughed and grabbed her hands “Everything will be fine. You’ll do fine. Cause you’re the best. Plus, BPD must wait for you like the arrival of the Messiah. ” She chuckled slightly. “Why are you saying this?”   “Don’t you read articles on the net? Journalists are constantly bashing the police saying that they are useless and flawed. Most cases are solved thanks to some masked vigilante.”       “ Nightwing. Yeah I’ve heard of him.” She placed the plates in the cupboard without adding a word. He expected more. He expected something else.         “ Oh come one don’t tell you support that vigilantism crap!”   “As long as criminals are put behind bars, I think that’s all that matters. We had Superman in Metropolis. No one complained. You didn’t complain.”       “ Don’t compare the threats in Metropolis with the threats here. Nightwing would not make it through one day in Metropolis.”

He would not make it through the night. Not at this rate. He was tired, exhausted and his wounds were not fully healed yet. But he couldn’t stop. The city needed him. Blüdhaven needed Nightwing so Dick Grayson would have to wait.       He winced and moaned from the pain when he landed on the rooftop. He approached the Detective Svoboda, limping. She noticed and stared at him from head to toes, genuinely worried but hiding it behind her eternal nonchalance and the smoke of her cigarillo. “Have you thought about seeing a doctor? That gimpy leg looks baaaad.”         “ It’s fine.” He retorted. “What’s happening?”   “ A disappearance. One child missing in Ravenshood Heights” She handed him a picture of a smiling red-haired young boy in his parents’ arms. “His name is Isaac Peterson. 9 years old. Orphan since the age of 4. Adopted two months ago. Missing for 3 days. My colleagues think he ran away.” Nightwing stared at the picture. It was recent. It had been taken in front of a cinema and the movies on the posters were still on the bill. The kid was wearing a brand new Blüdhaven Brawlers football jersey; limited edition, very expensive, as the game console in his pocket. He wasn’t just smiling, he was grinning and so were his adoptive parents. His body language – very close, his arms around their necks – showed he loved them a lot. “He didn’t.”   “ That’s what the adoptive parents said and that’s what I thought as well but thanks for confirming it.” “ Any clues whatsoever?”         “ None. The mother put the kid to sleep and when she entered the room to wake him up in the morning he was gone. Window wide open. No sign of breaking in. No prints. Nothing.” Nightwing frowned, intrigued and disturbed by the report.          A child could not vanish like that. There must be clues somewhere, witnesses, anything. “What about the neighbours?”         “ One is an old man, completely deaf, disgusting cataract. Didn’t hear or see a thing. The others is a couple but they have been in vacation for two weeks.”         “ I’ll do everything I can to help.” He gave back the picture to Elise. “We’ll find him, Detective.” She allowed herself to smile lightly. She knew he was telling the truth. She trusted him. She just hated that the police and the media were that harsh with him. “ Thank you, kid. And again …”     “ Be discreet. I know.” He sighed before jumping from the rooftop and she watched him leave with worry.

There was something wrong with him. She could tell it. Since the day she shot him, since that case with the Judge, she could feel he wasn’t the same anymore. He was morose, almost sullen. His usual bright smile was gone like his traditional wit and his playfulness. And she missed all that. But worse, he didn’t seem like he cared. And his negligence was scaring her. She was scared for him. “I meant ‘take care of yourself, kid’”

She wasn’t the only one worried. Everyone around him was. Bruce, Alfred, Barbara, Wally, even Damian. All had told him to take it easy, to rest, to take some time to heal and for himself, to take care of Dick Grayson a bit. But that was like talking to a brick wall. Pointless and a waste of time. He had decided to devote himself body and soul to this city and there was nothing anyone could do and there was no more going back now, not after all the things he had lost lately. Dick Grayson’s life was a mess. It had slipped away between his fingers. His social life was garbage, his love life no more, and his gym studio almost neglected along with his clients.           So focusing entirely on Nightwing was the best thing, the only thing, he could do right now. And as he was jumping from rooftop to rooftop he knew nothing would stop him. Nothing, not even a cruciate ligament injury. “Damn” He cursed as he fell flat on his face. The pain was stabbing at his knee like hundreds of tiny needles. He stayed down a few seconds before trying to stand up again, in vain. “Oh come on!” He punched the concrete, angry, trying to contain the tears of rage in his eyes. He was exhausted. And so was his body.

He was right. He would not go through the night.

[NEXT CHAPTER]