#dc has a handful of relatable ones though
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If it's not robots, I relate to aliens. Martian Manhunter and The Silver Surfer stick out as two perfect examples. They're not from Earth, but they're stuck here. They're lonely, troubled souls who just want to live with us peacefully. But can mankind accept strange aliens? Usually, that answer appears to be no. Why do you think The Silver Surfer is always alone in the upper atmosphere? It's because he can't leave for space, and he can't live with us. He's all alone. Why does J'onn J'onzz disguise himself as a human? Because trying to live as a Martian would lead to people judging him and calling him a freak. He usually even shapeshifts his Martian form to more resemble a basic earth humanoid, all so he can fit in. Because just like The Surfer, he knows mankind is cruel, and would never willingly accept him.
But besides aliens and robots, I just relate to the lonely, existential misfits. Doctor Strange (a man so lonely he only has a small handful of friends, and who almost never leaves his Sanctum), The Hulk (a being hounded just for being different), Howard the Duck (a talking duck who never even fit in on his original world, because he couldn't work by society's screwed up standards), the Doom Patrol (a whole team of lonely misfits and societal rejects), the Phantom Stranger (a man who seems cursed to wander earth alone for all time, even when he wants so desperately to just settle down), Namor (a temperamental king who seems incapable of fully belonging anywhere), Cyclops of the X-Men (lonely, studious, unable to fit in even amongst his peers, cyclops is the best x-man and i won't hear a word otherwise).
#there's so many relatable characters#i feel like marvel has more relatable heroes#dc has a handful of relatable ones though#but they mostly just have fun characters#dc#dc comics#marvel#marvel comics#martian manhunter#j'onn j'onzz#the silver surfer#silver surfer#norrin radd#doctor strange#bruce banner#the hulk#hulk#namor#namor mckenzie#namor the sub mariner#the defenders#defenders#howard the duck#htd#the doom patrol#doom patrol#the phantom stranger#phantom stranger#cylcops#scott summers
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All right you got my creative juices running with part five of Klarion is Dan yes the first series I ever came to you with
To find him Klarion isn't the only one living in the DC dimension in like the word of protective mother Danny is he sent one of clarion's older siblings to go with him Larsal/Lassie
She was one of the clone children that was created long before Danny knew that was trying to clone him she was one of the first failures
She doesn't really have a physical form as much she is more of like a big pit of water that has like a spiritual like form like Dr Fate
She hates Vlad so much that the entire League of assassins who's also hit him even though they don't know who he is but know that Danny got from Clockwork was about her and visiting
Klarion knows about the quote as the same thing last knows about him being a villain they keep each other secrets cuz they know they make Mom disappointed
When they do have somewhat of a physical form it's a cowgirl with a horse made entirely of Lazarus Pits
Along with that Vlad making surprise visit after feeling someone's littering his name more than usual it's like a call about anytime he knows his children or Daniel is talking about him
Also Batman's freaking out after I think that one of Danny's kids is such a little hater that they made a cult just despite their father which makes the Justice League think Vlad really that bad
This is just the funny idea and I know it's not a good prompt I'm still trying to think of more sorry
Oh I love this! Thanks you!
This is going to be fun in a way I hope! Enjoy~
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Danny barely avoided getting questioned further about his relation to Vlad when he noticed the green post-it note and made a grab for it. "Oh would you look at that! Pop is sending us a message!"
Okay maybe he said that louder than necessary but he needed to change the topic. He didn't need more people on to torment the fruitloop. His own kids were already giving the man enough grief as it was. He didn't need distant cousins or an entire hero society of another dimension coming after the fruitloop too. Not that he would mind that much but some mercy towards the redeemed man would probably be appropriated.
Either way Danny focused his attention on the note only half heartedly listening as Klarion continued his family tree explanation to his little hero friends. He blinked at the note several times before laughing happily. "Would you look at that! Lassie is going to come by! Your Granpa Clock is giving us a heads up, so I can prepare a fresh batch of ectoplasm for her to stay healthy!"
Whatever Klarion was explaining right now was abandoned as he sat up straight. "Lassie is coming too?"
"Well of course she is." Danny hummed happily, thankful for the chance of seeing both his kids that liked to life in the same dimension.
"Lassie?" Red Robin piped up questioning. Oh looks like this is one of Klarions siblings they hadn't gotten to yet regarding explanations.
"Yes my fourth oldest but unofficial second oldest." Danny nodded with a proud mother smile on his face. "She lives in this dimension too to keep an eye on Klarion so he would stay safe and dosen't over do it."
Klarion on the other hand groaned. "I don't need Lassie to baby sit me!"
"Klarion, sweety you were new to the whole living alone in another dimension thing. You spent the longest in FarFrozen and the Ghost Zone with me because of your destabilisation." Danny reprimanded him softly and the teen heroes snickered behind Klarions back to which the witch boy turned to glare at them with a greenish blush across his cheeks.
"So what does that sister of yours look like?" Impulse asked to change the topic and because he took a bit of pity on Klarion for the way his Mom was apparently embarrassing the witch boy. His question resulted in Klarion flipping though the photo album before stopping at an image of Klarion next to a pit of green something. Impulse arched an eyebrow and was about to comment when he got pushed roughly to the side by Red Robin.
"THAT'S A LAZARUS PIT!"
The way Batman's chair clattered to the ground as the man stood up looked every bit like he was going to rush over to the teens spoke for the shock that Red Robin shout had caused. The Ghost King and Klarion on the other hand looked rather calm as they barely reacted to the shout and Danny even motioned to Batman to sit back down again, as the chair that fell rightened itself again.
"Calm down. Lassie is a good child. She wouldn't hurt a fly." Danny told them smiling, not realising that both Batman and Red Robin were giving him increadulous looks behind their mask.
"A.... good child?" Batman repeated his slowly his voice even more tinged with his usual gruff gravel in a way that both Superman and Wonder Woman side eyed him worried while Flash snacked on a pack of melon flavoured ships he snacked from a table.
"She doesn't have a physical body, that is why she is relying on the pits of natural ectoplasm your dimension has. There was a little problem with her physical form and we just couldn't restore it and she refuses to get a unoccupied clone body like Klarion has." Danny explained further not minding the stares he or Klarion were getting.
"Pits of natural ectoplasm?" Batman reiterated, his tone clearly questioning, to which Danny only blinked a couple of times surprised. "I thought your dimension knew what they were? Sure the way you guys use them is strange and Lassie did sound a bit concerned when she told me about it but I didn't think you guys weren't aware what they were."
"No that is not...." Red Robin started but then but himself of as he turned around hurriedly in a defensive position as he noticed someone coming in through the window. He wasn't the only one. All the heroes reacted as one at the new presence, however what they didn't expect was a member of the League of Assassins blinking up at them stunned after climbing in through the window lifting their hands palm up in a gesture of peace.
"Woah hey there calm down! Klarion what the fuck? Why are there so many heroes in your Apartment?" The LoA member spoke up and all eyes turned to Klarion who instead only deadpanned. "I told you Mom was visiting to meet my 'friends'"
"Lassie, what did I tell you about possessing bodies?" The Ghost King piped up in a disapproving tone and they heard the distinctive tone of someone knocking their head against the table, probably Constantine.
"Sorry Mom but there are not Pits of ectoplasm near baby brother I could use to form a body." The LoA member, apparently possessed by Klarion's elder sister replied sheepishly. To say Red Robin was weirded out was an understatement. Usually if he encountered LoA members they were aggressive and most likely there to take him or one of his siblings out.
"That's an League of Assasin member...." He muttered under his breath to which said member laughed. "This guy was the closest to me to use for the moment. Don't worry I will release him later and he won't even remember a thing. I got my little sheep's well trained."
"Little sheep's?" Wonder Girl repeated a hand on her hip as she stared sceptically, to which Klarion face palmed and muttered a low "Sis shut up...."
"No Lassie, don't shut up." Danny intone from the kitchen table he was still sitting at with the other adults, his head was now resting on his hand as he stared at his two kids who visibly flinched.
The LoA member, possessed by Klarions sister, scratched the back of is head nervously as they faced the Ghost King. "Ah Mom, uhm hehe you know funny story..."
The heroes were pretty sure that the room had gotten several degrees colder and they weren't sure if that was because of the mood of a parent about to interrogate their child or because of the Ghost Kings power. (At a later time Constantine swore it were the Ghost Kings powers.) There was a awkward moment of silence the heroes weren't sure if they should be present for that or not especially when Danny stood up and walked over to the teens.
On reflex Wonder Girl, Superboy, Impulse and Red Robin made room for Danny to walk past them as they watched on torn between curiosity and pity, because clearly Klarion and his sister Lassie must have done something they weren't supposed to do. And honestly they were more curious what they did, after all the Ghost King hadn't been that faced when it got revealed that Klarion was more of a Villain than a Hero to them.
"Lassie, what did you do?" The teen heroes couldn't see Danny's face but from the tone they had a feeling that Danny was arching an eyebrow at his children.
Lassie laughed awkwardly once more. "So... you know how grandma Pandora kind of thought us about how our own emotion can influence those around us exposed to our ectoplasm over a long period of time?"
"Lassie..."
"I might have raised something akin to a cult on accident and passed on my personal grudge and hate towards the fruitloop along to them and they might now have the subconscious drill of attack on sight if Vlad ever makes an appearance in this dimension...." The LoA member slowly spoke up which had several of the adult heroes blinking in disbelief.
Batman especially was in shock of hearing about this since had the most interaction with this 'cult' as apparently one of the Ghost Kings children liked to call the League of Assassins. The bat suit wearing hero was about to interject and ask more but stopped when the Ghost King let out a suffering sigh like the most tired parent in existence. "And you didn't think about telling me this sooner because?"
"We don't like to disappoint you Mom." The two children of the Ghost King replied simultaneously like one united front. Danny in response gave his kids a light chuckle. But before Danny could go on any further Red Robin decided it was probably a good time to interject and remind the Ghost King of their presence.
"I got a question if you don't mind..." He lifted his hand like he was in school as he pulled the attention towards him. His curiosity won over his caution of the situation. "Klarion if the Lazarus Pits are actually 'ectoplasm' as you mentioned before, and are largely influenced by your sisters emotion. What happens to guy that bath regularly in them or someone that got thrown in there and game back out rage filled?"
"Red Robin!" Batman call out reprimanding instantly knowing where Red Robins line of question was going.
The possessed LoA member on the other hand blinked at them before scratching their head sheepishly. "I think I know who your talking about. I am still sorry about that second guy. When he got dunked into my ectoplasm, I kinda just came back from a visit home and had a bad fight with Vlad and was especially rage filled towards him."
"So does that mean...?" Red Robin inquired further ignoring Batman's silent glare towards him for even bringing these questions up and just as Lassie was about to answer Danny interjected.
"Lassie, go fix your cult." Another green note at materialised out of nowhere and had fluttered in the air before him and caused the Ghost King to face palm the moment he read it's context.
"Mom?" Both Klarion and Lassie asked with a shared worried glance.
"Vlad has come into the dimension for some reasons and is currently getting chased down by your cult."
There was a stunned silence after which Klarion and Lassie, in the body of the LoA member, broke out laughing hysterically which only caused Danny to lightly glare at his children. Meanwhile the teen heroes weren't sure if they should feel sorry for the old man called Vlad but considering all the red flags they had picked up from what Klarion told them, they felt a little like the man deserved that.
The adults on the other hand felt slightly torn, well mostly Batman. It was clear that this Vlad was a bigger threat than both Klarion and the Ghost King were making him out to be, considering the entire existence of the Lazarus Pits hated that man. But on the other hand as heroes they probably should feel obligated to help the man especially if, according to the Ghost Kings words, he was currently gotten chased in their dimension by the League of Assassins.
Danny on the other hand never felt more like a tired mother than he did right now. Sure he knew about his unofficial second oldest hatred towards Vlad but this certainly was a new level of hate. Especially since she apparently 'accidentally' (he doesn't by that at all) raised an entire cult that subconsciously hated him too.
#question and answer#thanks for the ask!#danny fenton#danny phantom#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#crossover#dan phantom#klarion the witch boy#tim drake#conner kent#bart allan#cassandra sandsmark#young justice#Dan is Klarion#Danny is Dan's mom#mom Danny#ghost king danny#Part 5#guess what Klarions unofficial second oldest sister lives in the Lazarus Pits#she kind of is the Lazarus Pits but at the same time not#Though the pits are filled with her emotions#and causes the LoA to hate Vlad the same way she does#Jason most likely hates Vlad too subconsciously#Tim has a feeling he does#the Justice League see Vlad as a thread now#the phantoms are gremlins#no beta we die like danny#unedited
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Could we please have a fic
Where Tim is still adjusting to being a lil bro and he's still a bit nervous around Jason because the RH incident and Jason is fully aware that his lil bro is scared of him, and then Dick, (very purposefully) tells Jason that Tim is ticklish. Jason decides to use this information.
editing? who's she? (aka i was too lazy to edit a 5.5K tickle fic i just wanted to post it jksdhsdjfh)
also, seeing as my life is consumed by DC/esp the Batfam right now i was compelled to actually do my research for this fic and i went and found teen titans volume 3 #29 and looked through their fight. and dont get me wrong i love a good titans tower fic, tim drake is The whumpable character ever, but it is SO FUNNY to me the way fandom has apparently blown this so out of proportion because skimming that fight between the two it was literally like. the vigilante equivalent of squaring up behind the Waffle House at 3am while Jason is wearing a Party City Robin outfit sdjfhdsfj it was so unserious, he was definitely a theater kid lol, Tim wasn't even busted up that bad the worst he had was a bloody nose and maybe a concussion from the final blow lol
so i leaned more into the canon energy of it (snarky Tim who held his own decently well) because i think the whole fanon "he-almost-murdered-me-and-i'm-traumatized-and-terrified" energy leans into a fear dynamic that i am not necessarily comfortable exploring in a fluffy tickle fic? so i hope that's alright and that you still enjoy this fic even though i didnt full lean into that "scared of jason" energy i think you were looking for!
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Brothers Forged in Laughter
Fandom: Batfamily (no specific source material/continuity -- though i do briefly reference Teen Titans volume 3 #29)
Ship(s): Gen!!! Platonic!! Familial!! No batcest here
Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Tim & Ler!Jason (plus a very brief Ler!Dick)
Word Count: 5623 words
Summary: Tim wasn’t Jason's little brother, not really. Just because they got taken in by the same rich asshole did not mean they were related. But, well, the kid was kind of asking for it at this point. Maybe getting tickled to tears on the training mats by your asshole predecessor would become a Robin right-of-passage.
[ao3 link]
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Developing an unspoken sort of truce with the Bats had not been on Jason’s to-do list when he returned to Gotham, especially after his little trip to Titan’s Tower or the explosive confrontation between him, Bruce, and the Joker. Really, Jason blamed Dick. He was like a leech, it was impossible to shake him once he got his teeth sunk in.
Still, it had its benefits. He didn’t have to worry about getting arrested and thrown in Arkham anymore, for one. Not to mention, the Bats left Crime Alley well alone now (bar an Arkham breakout), leaving the neighborhood to Jason’s expertise. But most of all: access to the Batcave.
Jason didn’t necessarily enjoy his visits to the Cave, but there were things that Bruce’s money could buy that Jason had difficulty getting his hands on. For instance, the state-of-the-art lab that was hooked up to the Batcomputer and all its insane processing speed.
With Batman publicly off on a JL mission and no risk of running into Bruce, Jason didn’t hesitate breaking into the Batcave (was it really breaking in if they never deactivated Jason’s codes in the first place? Jason liked to think so) to study a concoction from his latest Scarecrow copy-cat that thought Crime Alley made a great testing ground. It was just his luck that the little replacement Robin happened to be down in the Cave at the same time, drowning in an oversized hoodie and staring down one of the Batcomputer’s monitors with bloodshot eyes. One of his arms was in a sling, but Jason didn’t keep track of the Bats’ cases enough to know what had caused the injury. He was more wilted than the oregano plant Jason had forgotten at one of his lesser-used safehouses. And, more importantly, he was in Jason’s way.
“Pretty sure little birdies are meant to be resting when their wings get clipped,” Jason called out as he walked up the steps toward the Batcomputer.
The line of Tim’s shoulders went taught as his head snapped around to glare at Jason. “I’m pretty sure zombie crime lords are supposed to stick to Crime Alley.”
Jason held up his sample of knock-off toxin, shaking the liquid inside. “Wouldn’t exactly be here if I didn’t have to.”
Tim’s lips pressed into a thin line as he huffed a breath out through his nose. “Fine.”
Jason rolled his eyes as he turned toward the mass spectrometer, fumbling a bit to set it up properly. It’d been a while since he’d had to use one, and the one in the Cave was a lot newer than the one he’d used as Robin. It didn’t help that the back of his neck burned from the eyes boring into it.
“Don’t need a babysitter, y’know.”
“Like I’m leaving you in the Cave unsupervised.”
Jason scoffed. “What am I gonna do, poison your juice boxes?” The machine finally started running rounds of analysis, so Jason spun around to lean against it, locking his eyes onto Tim. And the stack of soda cans next to him. “Or your Zesti, apparently. Alfred lets you drink all that shit?”
Tim stayed silent, narrowing his eyes.
Jason lit up. “He doesn’t, does he?” He laughed, eyeing the pile of empty cans again. “Maybe we should call him down right now, what do you say?”
Jason started towards Tim and the Batcomputer, only meaning to ruffle his hair, maybe tease him a bit more about his serious sugar addiction, but he came up short as Tim slipped a hand against the underside of the Batcomputer’s desk, fingers subtly searching. Jason knew there was a panic button under there, even though he’d never had to use it during his time as Robin. It would send alerts to Alfred, to Dick, to every device of Bruce’s – hell, it might even send alerts to Clark or Diana at this point. Jason really didn’t need Superman busting in with a disgruntled Batman in his arms while he was trying to get work done.
So he backed off, raising his hands in mocking surrender as he leaned back against the machinery behind him, playing it off with a sarcastic, “Damn then, Boy Wonder, keep your secrets.”
The rest of Jason’s visit to the Cave was spent in tense silence, only broken in brief intervals to discuss the specifics of Jason’s case and the results of the toxin analysis. Turns out it was developed from an older strain of Crane’s – the most current fear toxin antidote could wipe it out no problem.
It didn’t leave him as satisfied as it should have, feeling all off-kilter as he mounted his motorcycle and started his drive back to Crime Alley. He couldn’t shake the hard look in Tim’s eyes as his fingers searched the bottom of the desk. It was fucking infuriating. What should he care if the newest little Robin was scared of him, after all? He and the Bats weren’t a team, and Robin certainly wasn’t his responsibility.
Maybe Jason had inhaled a little of the toxin when running the analysis. That was all.
* * *
Scared wasn’t really the right word, Jason realized over time. Because Tim was very obviously not afraid of him. He would poke and prod at Jason, even outright mock him sometimes. His glares were fierce and intense, his tone short and snappy. At times, he almost seemed to be seeking out a fight, like he wanted a rematch, to prove the words he said back at Titan’s Tower.
“Do you think you’re that good now? Do you really, Tim?”
“Yes.”
Wary seemed more accurate. He wasn’t frightened of Jason, but he was mostly certainly on edge. Even more so when Jason started visiting the Manor itself, finally giving in to Alfred and Dick’s invitations (though he still staunchly refused the invitations for family dinners – no way in hell he was being civil with Bruce for that long.). Tim would eye Jason like one would a particularly reactive dog – cautious and ready to act, but without any outright fear or anxiety.
And Jason… he could live with that. He didn’t particularly enjoy it, but it’s not like they were family or anything. Just because Bruce took in the kid didn’t make them brothers – and it wasn’t like Bruce was his father anymore, anyway. The itch that grew under Jason’s skin when Tim would look at him like that was purely from having eyes on him, that was all. And he didn’t feel guilty for making the kid feel like that, thank you very much – that lingering weight in his chest was just a perfectly normal reaction to Dick’s puppy-dog eyes every time he and Tim sniped at each other.
Seriously. No grown man should be able to make that expression. It was unnatural.
He was so used to Tim’s cold shoulders that when he arrived at the Cave one afternoon, he almost fell off his motorcycle at the bright, cackling laugh that echoed across the stone once he cut his engine. It was boyish, childish, happy – all the things Robin should be. For a moment, it made old bitterness crawl up the back of his throat like bile, but he just as quickly swallowed it back down. He’d already taken out enough on the kid.
The laughter grew louder as he climbed the stairs up to the Batcave’s main platform, growing squeakier or snortier or gigglier in various intervals. By the time he made it up the stairs, Jason had a pretty good idea of what was happening. Turning away from the Batcomputer and towards the training mats easily confirmed it.
Because there was the Boy Wonder, in all his red-faced glory, cackling up a storm as Dick tickled the absolute shit out of him.
At least Dick had someone besides Jason to take all that tickle-monster energy out on, now.
Dick’s head shot up as Jason’s boot scuffed across the stone, and he shot Jason a grin. “Hey, Little Wing!” Tim’s laughter lightened, growing more giggly. Probably Dick lightening up his attack in case he wanted to participate in the conversation. “What brings you here?”
“Came by to hack into the computer.” Jason jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Got some CCTV to look into, and the setup is better here than in any of my safehouses.”
Dick nodded, and Tim’s laughter jumped in pitch again.
“Jesus,” Jason said. “You trying to kill the kid?”
Dick laughed himself and finally let up, leaving Tim to roll onto his side and catch his breath.
“Nah – but I think I might’ve finally found someone more ticklish than you, Jay.” He gave Jason a meaningful look, winking when he was sure Tim wasn’t looking.
Jason scoffed. He would not be filing that information away for later, thank you very much, because Tim was not his baby brother. “Yeah, whatever. I grew out of that – Lazarus Pits and all.”
Dick narrowed his eyes, a disarming smile on his lips. “Oh, really? That’s too bad. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind, then, if I–”
Jason swiftly backed away from the mats. “Yeah, no. I’m busy – came here to work and all. Try to keep it down, will you?” He managed to catch Tim’s eye for a second. “Try his thighs,” he advised. “Or just under his ribs. Makes for great revenge.”
“Wha– Jason!”
Jason turned his back on them, not wanting to unpack the narrow-eyed look Tim gave him. Not even moments later he heard Dick yelp.
“Oh, no you don’t – you’ll regret that!”
And the Cave was quickly filled with laughter once more, two sets of it this time. Not exactly the quiet environment Jason had hoped for when he came by to work, but he would deal. The Batcomputer had high-quality headphones for a reason.
And, privately, Jason thought those two could use more opportunities to smile.
* * *
Over time, the uneasy truce settled into something more comfortable. There were times it still chafed, itching at Jason’s skin until he felt he needed to claw it off, but things were rarely so tense anymore that Jason expected to be cut off like a necrotic limb. Hood still handled Crime Alley, the Bats tackled the rest of Gotham, and sometimes, if the cards fell right, they were able to work cases together without any casualties.
Cases like this new up-and-coming gang. They’d spread outside of the Alley, maneuvering in areas where Hood didn’t have as much reach or authority, but they were still spreading through his own territory like slow-acting poison. There was only so much he could do, and so when Dick offered the Bats up to help, Jason agreed with only minimal bitching.
Which led him to this warehouse rooftop, going on three hours crouched uncomfortably next to Robin, the irritation of a failed stakeout grating against his ribs and skull. The established gang these newbies were trying to ally with hadn’t even shown, and even the newbies were starting to pack up shop, wanting to get back to base before dawn broke. The newest little Robin, however, didn’t seem to be getting the memo that this was a bust.
“Kid,” Hood all but growled. “Let’s go, there’s nothing more for us here.”
Robin scoffed, still laying on his stomach and not bothering to drop the binoculars to have a conversation with Hood. “Something might still happen. I’m not going to drop this just because you’re getting impatient.”
A flash of irritation bubbled up in Hood’s chest, frustration coiling hot in his stomach. The gang was leaving, Hood was starving, his knees ached from crouching on this roof all night, and he really should’ve told Dick no when Robin was offered up to help with the stakeout. But of course, the Bat himself was too busy with some last-minute JL business, and Nightwing had his own problems in Bludhaven to deal with. The worst part was that Robin was right, something could still happen, but Hood sincerely doubted it. They hadn’t gotten any new or relevant info in the past two hours, and Hood was ready to stuff his face with some greasy fast food and pass out for the next six hours.
And so as the newbies finished loading up their vehicles and driving off, Hood reached over to snatch the binoculars from Robin. Somehow, even with his face buried behind the plastic, he knew Hood was coming and shifted out of the way, thrusting a foot into Hood’s chest to try and hold him back. Hood’s height was an advantage here, but Robin still refused to let go of the binoculars, staring after the newbies’ vehicles as if they held the answers to the universe.
And Hood, overtired and ready to be out of all this goddamned armor and in bed, let his instincts take over again. He jabbed one hand up under Robin’s arm, poking and prodding at the softer spot in the armor designed for mobility. Robin made an awkward squawking sound, his arm shooting down to protect the vulnerable spot and cutting the grip he had on the binoculars by half. Hood easily wrenched them from his hand after that, tucking them into an inner pocket in his leather jacket.
“Come on,” Hood said, standing and brushing himself off like nothing happened. “Batburger, I’m buying.”
Robin scowled at him, eyes unreadable behind the white-out lenses of the domino, and slowly rose to his feet. “Fine. But I want Jokerized fries, and I don’t care how you feel about it.”
* * *
Jason had to wonder if the kid ever slept. Every time he came by the Cave, Tim was there too – training, running samples, working cases on the Batcomputer – no matter what absurd hour he arrived. Jason let out a loud, long, obnoxious sigh as he cleared the stairs to the main platform of the Batcave, and Tim immediately whipped around and glared at him over the back of the desk chair.
“Can I help you?” Tim snapped.
“I need the computer.” Jason kicked the base of the desk chair as he approached, propelling it several inches to the left.
Tim’s scowl deepened, and he rolled the chair back into position. “Well you can wait. I’m busy with a case.”
Instead of arguing further, Jason opted for the quickest route of success. He grabbed the back of the desk chair, spun it around so Tim was no longer facing the desk, and unceremoniously dumped him out of the seat. Tim squawked as he stumbled out of the chair, but regained his footing quickly and immediately trying to bolt back into the seat. Jason smirked and yanked it away, sending it rolling a few feet behind him.
“Whoops.”
Tim pursed his lips. “Real mature.”
Jason laid a hand over his heart and cocked his head to the side. “Ouch. You wound me. Truly.”
Tim glared at him, but his eyes flicked towards the desk chair behind Jason. They burst into motion at the same time – Tim lunging towards the chair, and Jason lunging towards Tim. After a brief tussle, Jason yanked Tim into a headlock, and for a brief second the two of them went eerily still. Jason loosened his grip, making the hold easy to break, but didn’t let go. Tim stayed frozen for a moment longer before tilting his head up, giving Jason a challenging look.
Jason’s mind warred with itself for a few moments. Not my little brother, one side of his brain said. Isn’t he, though? another replied. He had, unfortunately, filed away that information Dick had given him, as much as he tried to ignore it. And, well, it wouldn’t be the first time, would it? He didn’t think he’d even given Tim back his Bat-noculars.
A moment passed, and Jason suddenly lunged, latching his free hand onto Tim’s side and squeezing away. Tim jerked in his grip, squealing as a smile forced its way onto his face. One hand went towards prying Jason’s off his side, while the other came and clutched at the forearm around his throat for stability. Jason grinned and allowed the hand to crawl up Tim’s side, carefully keeping his headlock loose so that Tim wouldn’t really feel trapped. The second Jason’s fingers touched his ribs and a real laugh jumped out from Tim’s throat, he was out of Jason’s grip in seconds. Tim stood across from him, giving him another one of those uncomfortably calculating looks, though the blush rushing to his cheeks diminished it slightly.
“Fine,” Tim said eventually. “I should head up and get a snack anyways.”
Jason raised an eyebrow.
“But I’m coming back down in two hours, and I will be getting back to my case. Whether you’re done on the computer or not.”
Jason snorted. “Yeah, sure thing, Timberly. Whatever you say.”
* * *
Jason was at the Manor for family dinner.
His skin itched at the thought as he sped into the Cave on his motorcycle – he never entered through the Manor proper, not in all these months, something about that just made it too real, too raw – and threw his riding gear off. Bruce was going to be there – not Batman, Bruce, and he hadn’t really interacted with the man outside the mask since he came back – but so were Dick and Alfred. And so was Tim.
Bit by bit, the kid had been relaxing around him. They worked cases together (and with Nightwing) when Hood needed a Bat, or when the birds needed his help instead. He didn’t tense whenever Jason came through the Cave anymore, didn’t eye Jason with suspicion when they crossed paths on patrol. He still stared a lot, but it’s not like Jason could blame him. He had attacked the kid, and even if he didn’t leave him with more than a concussion and some bruises (and Jason with a grudging sense of respect for the brat, as he walked away with his own array of bruising and a busted nose), the kid was well within his rights to keep his eyes on Jason’s movements.
But still, the progress they had made was, well, nice.
Speak of the devil — the Cave wasn’t empty. Tim was in the training area, dressed in basketball shorts and a t-shirt, running his bo staff drills with a single-minded focus that could rival even Bruce. Jason almost would’ve thought that Tim didn’t realize he was there, but Tim’s eyes flicked his direction as he approached the edge of the training mats. Tim ran through the move he was doing a few more times, making minute posture changes each time until his form was perfect, before dropping out of his stance and facing Jason.
“Not bad,” Jason said.
Tim ticked up an eyebrow. “Thanks.” His gaze trailed over to the stairs. “Alfred’s still making dinner, and Bruce is up there brooding and fussing over everything until it’s perfect. You probably wanna stay down here until the food’s ready.”
The skin around Jason’s eyes tightened as he suppressed a wince. “Yeah, thanks. Where’s Golden Boy?”
The corner of Tim’s mouth twitched up. “He got saddled with ‘distract Bruce’ duty.”
Jason matched Tim’s half-smile. They lapsed into an awkward silence. Jason shoved his hands in his pockets to resist the urge to fidget. Tim stared.
“Let’s spar,” Tim said suddenly, turning on his heel to set aside his bo staff.
Jason stared at him, incredulous. “What?”
“Spar. You and me.”
“Are you sure about that, kid?”
Tim shot him one of those calculating looks over his shoulder. “Do you have anything better to do?”
Jason pursed his lips. “No.”
“Then let’s spar.”
Palms sweating, Jason kicked off his boots, shucked his leather jacket, and set aside the weapons he’d hidden on his person. He set himself up opposite of Tim, lowering his body into a fighting stance.
“Ready?” Tim asked.
“Yup.”
The word was barely out of Jason’s mouth before Tim lunged, immediately going in for a grapple. Jason almost laughed — he far outclassed the little Robin in both weight and strength — and quickly sent the kid sprawling to the mats before backing away. Tim was scowling when he stood up.
“Don’t go easy on me.”
“Don’t worry, Boy Wonder. I’m just getting warmed up.”
Tim lunged first again, feinting left before trying to circle around to Jason’s back on the right. Jason whipped around and blocked the incoming blows, jabs that would’ve left his arms numb and tingling for hours had they landed. On one block, he snagged Tim’s wrist and used it to twirl him halfway around. He shoved Tim forward, harder than he meant to, and let him stumble a few feet as he retreated again.
The spar went on like this for a while, Tim attacking and Jason blocking and retreating. Tim’s scowl got deeper and deeper, and the careful control he usually held in his movements started slipping more and more. After the tenth time Jason knocked Tim’s attack away and retreated, Tim finally snapped.
“Stop babying me! I can take it!”
“Tim—“
“No.” Tim fell back into a ready stance, face red and splotchy from frustration and exertion. “I know what it looks like when you’re fighting for real. So fight me.”
Jason pressed his lips into a thin line. “Fine.”
Jason rushed first this time, and Tim met him in the middle. They exchanged a series of blows (though Jason pulled his punches — this was a spar not a brawl, and he kinda thought Tim had enough of Jason punching his lights out by now), and Tim held his own well. He’d gotten some good hits in during their confrontation at Titan’s Tower, but it was clear he had improved since losing to Jason back then. If Tim had been in a better state, he might’ve been able to hold out against Jason’s onslaught for a while.
As it was, Tim had clearly been training for a while before Jason had come in and had already been fatigued, and his lingering frustration from Jason’s kid-gloves was obviously making him sloppy. With Jason’s bulk and sheer strength, he had Tim pinned to the ground in minutes. Tim grunted and growled and struggled under him, trying to free himself, but Jason had both his arms pinned above his head and had settled his bulk over Tim’s thighs so he couldn’t flip their positions or kick Jason off.
“Satisfied?” Jason asked dryly.
Tim didn’t reply, twisting his wrists to test Jason’s grip.
“Ready to hit the showers? Alfred probably won’t be happy if we come to dinner all drenched in sweat.”
Tim twisted his hips, trying to throw Jason off but unable to get the leverage to move his considerable weight. “No, fuck you.”
Jason’s eyebrows shot up. “Damn, Timber, you kiss Alfred with that mouth?”
Tim paid him no mind, continuing to hiss and spit under him. Honestly, it reminded Jason a lot of when he was Robin. Whenever Dick beat him in a spar, he would hiss and spit and carry on, trying to break the hold until Dick got sick of his whining and—
Ah. So that was why Dick had been tickling the kid to tears the other month.
Jason gave Tim a considering look. For a moment, he wondered if he really had the right. Tim wasn’t his little brother, not really. Just because they got taken in by the same rich asshole did not mean they were related. He’d been telling himself so for months, even if there were moments of doubt. But, well, wasn’t Tim his little brother? They snarked and tussled over the computer and helped each other on cases, and Jason was here to eat family dinner with him for God’s sake.
And hey, maybe getting tickled to tears on the training mats by your asshole predecessor would become a Robin right-of-passage.
Amidst Tim’s struggling, Jason managed to wrangle both his wrists into one hand and pin them firmly above his head. Then, making sure Tim was watching, he hovered a hand over Tim’s stomach and slowly started wiggling his fingers.
Tim gasped and froze. Then, just as quickly, his struggles started up again with a new desperation.
“You wouldn’t.”
Jason grinned, lowering his wiggling fingers another inch. “Say uncle, Timmy.”
Tim narrowed his eyes, dragging his eyes away from the ticklish threat to meet Jason’s own. “Do your worst.”
Tim’s mouth clamped shut tight just as Jason’s lowered his hand and touched down on Tim’s stomach. Tim squeezed his eyes shut and squirmed, going pink in the face as he tried not to laugh.
Jason laughed for him. “Come on, TimTam, we both know you’re ticklish as shit. No point in not laughing.”
Tim shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to worm away to the left as Jason’s hand traveled to his right side.
“No, it doesn’t tickle? Are you sure?”
Even though his eyes were still closed, Tim turned his face away from Jason, trying to hide behind one of his biceps. Jason grinned wider and jumped his hand over to Tim’s other side, delivering a series of nibbling pinches without warning. Tim squeaked, like the little baby bird he was, and jolted to the right to try and get away.
“I dunno, Baby Bird. Seems like it might tickle.”
Tim made a growling noise in the back of his throat, and Jason couldn’t help but laugh again.
“No? Maybe we should make sure all your nerves are working right, then.”
Tim’s eyes snapped open at that, glassy and watery from the effort of holding back his laughter. Jason made sure to grin at him, smug and toothy and all evil-big-brother, just like Dick used to do to him.
“Tell me, can you feel this?”
His hand shot up and skittered calloused fingertips and blunt fingernails against the exposed side of Tim’s neck. Tim’s head snapped to that side with a muffled squeal, his smile fighting to become open-mouthed and toothy, forcing Tim to bite down on his lip to keep his reactions at bay.
“Hmm, seems promising. How ‘bout here, can you feel that?”
Jason shot back down and vibrated his hand into the center of Tim’s belly. Tim tried to jackknife to protect himself, but with his wrists firmly pinned and Jason’s considerable weight on his thighs, he was forced to stay flat against the mats. He chose to toss his head back against the mats instead, shaking it back and forth furiously.
“No?” Jason asked, voice dripping with faux-concern. “You can’t feel it?”
Tim let an annoyed little groan, but quickly cut it off as it started to take on a giggly tone. Jason was being deliberately unhelpful in the matter, poking his index finger into various spots of Tim’s stomach and vibrating it.
“Right here, can you feel this? What about over here? And here? Come on Timbit, work with me here.”
Tim flinched and twitched at every prod, trembling with suppressed giggles. Jason’s own cheeks hurt from smiling — he could definitely see why Dick tickled the snot out of him so often when he was a kid. This was adorable and hilarious. But he still had yet to make the kid break, which was kinda annoying. Like, hello, how was Jason supposed to tickle the snot out of him if he wouldn’t even laugh? Jason paused for a moment, letting Tim catch his breath as he planned his next attack. Now where was it that made Tim shoot out of his arms the other week…
Oh, that’s right.
Jason put on a mournful look, shaking his head. “Starting to get real concerned here, Timbourine. Maybe we oughtta do a full injury check.” Jason rested his fingers on Tim’s lower ribs. “What do you say?”
Tim gasped, shuffling as far away from Jason’s hand as he could, but Jason followed the movement easily.
“Jason—“ Tim started, but cut himself off, pressing his lips together again.
“What is it you said to me, again? Do my worst, was that it?”
“Jason, I’ll— I’ll buffer Bruce for you tonight. I’ll take on your caseload. I’ll clean your motorcycle, I—“
“As tempting as that all sounds,” Jason had to raise his voice to be heard over Tim’s rambling. “You know what I wanna hear. Admit you lost.”
Tim’s mouth clamped shut. Of course. How could the latest model not come with that patented stubborn Robin pride?
Jason shrugged, tapping his fingers threateningly against Tim’s ribs, making him squirm. “Suit yourself.”
Jason wasn’t the greatest at picking apart Tim’s expressions, but he’d say the smile forcing its way across Tim’s face was almost giddy.
He started off with a typical injury-check touch, a light press and slide against the individual ribs, just to really play into the game he had set up. Tim’s face scrunched up instantly, obviously trying to hold back his reactions, and his body started squirming with a new fervor.
“Nerves working here, Timmers?” Jason tickled his middle ribs a bit more deliberately, making Tim’s face spasm. “Seems to me like you might be feeling something. Does it tickle?”
Tim shook his head. Jason sighed.
“You leave me no choice.”
Jason released Tim’s wrists and latched onto either side of his ribs with both hands, tickling mercilessly. Tim’s eyes bugged out of his head as he let out a laugh bordering on a scream. His legs scrambled on the mats behind Jason, searching for leverage or freedom. As Tim’s laughter fell into desperate cackles, Jason couldn’t help but laugh along with him.
“Jason! Jay!”
“You know how to make it stop, Timmy.”
Even with his hands free, Jason was discovering that Tim was absolutely useless when he was tickled. Jason attacked lower on his ribcage and Tim’s hands latched onto Jason’s wrists in a feeble, laughter-weakened attempt to pry him off. That only opened up the rest of his ribcage and armpits to attack, which Jason took great advantage of. Tim’s laughter would get more panicky, more shrill, the higher Jason went, but his brain didn’t seem to know how to defend itself — seeing as his hands stayed latched onto Jason’s to try and pull him off.
“Jesus Christ, Baby Bird — how do you even live when you’re this ticklish?”
“Asshole!”
Jason raised an eyebrow, though he wasn’t sure Tim could see it through his squinted, teary eyes. “Be nice. I could make this so much worse.”
“No, no!”
“That’s what I thought.”
Of course, Jason still made it worse anyway. There was a particular spot towards the back of Tim’s ribs, right between the top two on either side, that sent Tim spasming like he’d been electrocuted. Jason laughed as he prodded at the weak points one at a time, watching Tim toss himself in the opposite direction of the ticklish jolts. Finally, he gave Tim a breather, resting his fingers against those spots on his ribs just to keep him giggly and twitchy.
“Last chance for mercy,” Jason said, just barely twitching his fingers to watch Tim jump. “Alfred’ll send someone down soon.”
Tim’s teary eyes went wide. “Wait, Jason, come on–”
“Damn stubborn little Robin.”
Jason dug his fingers in, torturing those little tickle spots as best he could.
“Fuck!” Tim practically screamed before breaking into laughter that would give even the Joker a run for his money. Surprisingly, the hysterical tone of it didn’t even make Jason’s skin crawl. “Uncle!” Tim cried out, and his laughter went silent.
Jason eased up, redirecting his attack lower on Tim’s ribs, though still vibrating his fingers into the nerves mercilessly. “Hm? What was that?”
“You win! Uncle, you win! Jason, come on!”
With a chuckle, Jason heaved himself off of Tim to sit on the mats next to him, ruffling his hair as he caught his breath.
“Fuck you,” Tim said, closing his eyes and relaxing bonelessly into the mats.
“Hey.” Jason raised his hands in surrender. “You could’ve stopped that at any time. Not my fault you’re a stubborn little bitch.”
“I’ll get you for this.”
Jason raised an eyebrow. “I’ve got, like, a hundred pounds on you and I’m twice your height. How do you think you’re accomplishing that, shrimp?”
Tim peeled one eye open to glare at him. “I’ve got Dick.”
Jason froze. Oh, shit.
“That he does,” a cheerful voice chimed in from the direction of the stairs. Dick strode towards them, a slightly feral smile on his face. “And I would be more than happy to help. We never did test your claim about the Lazarus Pit taking away your ticklishness.”
Oh, fuck, actually. Maybe he shouldn’t have told Tim about Dick’s thighs that one time.
Dick’s smile shifted from feral to innocent in the blink of an eye. “But maybe later. Alfred sent me to get you for dinner – and I know he wouldn’t appreciate your B.O. stinking up the dinner table. Hit the showers.”
Jason groaned as he got up, pretending to crack his back even though he wasn’t the slightest bit sore from their sparring or impromptu tickle attack. Then, he reached down and hauled Tim to his feet, shoving him in the direction of the Cave’s locker room ahead of himself. Just as he went to follow, a hand on his shoulder stopped him.
“Good job, big brother,” Dick said, his voice low enough that it wouldn’t travel through the echoing cave. He gave Jason’s shoulder a squeeze.
Jason looked away and scoffed. “Yeah, whatever. Little shit was asking for it.”
Dick laughed and dropped his hand, shoving Jason toward the locker room much like Jason had shoved Tim. He tried not to think about it too hard, instead focusing on how carefully he’d have to watch his back in the future.
No way he was letting Timmy and Dickhead take him down without a fight.
#tickle fic#my writing#dc tickling#batfam tickling#lee!tim drake#ler!jason todd#ler!dick grayson#(briefly)#ticklish!tim drake#dc#batfam#tim drake#jason todd#dick grayson
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DP x DC AU: Letters and Paper goods are easy to store, and therefore, easy to hide. Danny has drama to monger though.
Tim Drake becomes a ward of Bruce Wayne at the same time the Drake Corporation is crumbling, and his father's health is declining. Dana, his father's physical therapist turned new wife, isn't optimistic these days, and Tim can read the writing on the wall.
Times have changed and Bruce and Dick are treating him with kid gloves. Jason Todd is alive again, been there suffered that. Young Just-Us has proven yet again to be his true family... But Bruce 'welcomes' him home the second the fake uncle is sniffed out.
So, Tim rationalizes, If Drake Corp is going down, then so shall the reason he spent his childhood abandoned. The many, many archeology digs his parents left him for over the years and their many, many stolen historical pieces. Tim is ready and able to get rid of them all.
He first returns the artifacts that have obvious origins to the people with whom they belong. Then it starts to get a little hazy as to where each item stolen is from. The paper goods are the hardest to place.
Years later, Tim has almost completely emptied his parent's old home of their stolen goods. By now, he runs a fortune 500 company and is working as Red Robin. Going through the last of the archives means going through the very last objects his parents ever preferred over his company, and he can't wait to be rid of them.
A glowing green envelope however... this one he feels compelled to keep. He hadn't known it back when he started this project- but somehow his Parents had found objects drenched in the essence of the Lazarus Pits. And it wasn't just one letter, it was dozens and dozens.
Tim Drake knew it would be risky to move them, but he needed to get these letters to an ex-league member to understand what the language of the dead was trying to proclaim.
_____
Danny hates a fetch quest but apparently Ghost Writer is having a bad day. It starts with Danny running by the guys library to have a chat when all of a sudden, the question of certain... ghost relations... came up. Danny is always more than thrilled to hear about how the various ancient-as-in-old ghosts interacted with the Ancients-as-in-yikes ghosts.
Ghost Writer finally admitted to the monarch in training that if he wanted to know so badly, that he could track down Clockworks old letters. They'd been scattered well before Ghost Writer could properly work on the ghost archives (read: was still alive), and it wasn't until he'd long worked on the library that such affairs were noted as missing.
The potential for gossip was just too good! A call home to Sam, Tuck and Jazz to let them know he was on an adventure, and then Danny flew off with little more than some hints by GW and an annoyed nod of cryptic agreement by CW.
Danny goes about wondering Gotham as himself, not yet seeing the need to be Phantom, when he runs into the very guy he was looking for.
"Hey- you don't happen to have a shit ton of letters written in the language of the dead do you?" Danny smiles as innocently as possible as he watches all seven stages of grief play out on the guy's face. Then something changes and Danny can tell that this guy is like, scary competent.
"I do, however, I was double crossed and a shit ton of assassins are on their way to try and take them."
"Uh... Bummer for them I guess? I'll just take them and go- I don't even really need to keep them if you want em back-"
"Assassins. They won't exactly leave empty handed."
"Huh. Well... Wanna come with? These are supposed to have some pretty juicy drama in them." Danny awkwardly places a hand on the back of his neck.
A knife being thrown in their direction was enough to get this guy to make a decision.
"Let's go spill some tea then."
Danny grins as he pulls the guy through a rapidly drawn portal, ignoring the wide eyes he makes. Turns out his name is Tim, and walking him through afterlife drama is the best- how does he know so many dead assassins??? One of these letters is about a guy who took Tim's spleen??
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freakingholland's batboys headcanons part 1
A/N: Hi cuties! After posting some dc comics related imagines over the last couple of years I've decided to finally post a list of my own headcanons for batboys! Just a disclaimer - these are based on multiple dc related media (comics, shows, fan-made content) as well as just my imagination. I do not mean any harm with these! Also if you agree/disagree with these let me know in the comments/asks/rbs because I'm super intrested in what you guys think and your own fanons! Stay whelmed xx questions/ideas here! - rules here my AO3 archive is here If you enjoyed my work: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland masterlist
Dick Grayson (25-29ish yo)
Wears contacts all the time when he’s out. His sight used to be perfect up until puberty. Only wears prescription glasses when he knows he’ll spend the entire day wearing sunglasses – has prescription on them (he does have an emergency pair of regular glasses though).
Has a deep set of dimples. More visible when he’s a dehydrated raisin of a human being. He has a special bottle for just water to force himself to drink more.
Is left handed. His siblings bother him for that matter when he accidentally elbows somebody while eating.
Is “silently” addicted to energy drinks. Has tried to switch to other beverages but ultimately always goes back to energy drinks.
Sings in the shower, has a genuinely good singing voice. Pretends to be shy when people suggest doing karaoke.
Has chronic wrist pain due to a bad fracture.
Is a minimalist. Hates clutter and frequently gets rid of things like clothes, unnecessary gadgets, kitchen utensils etc.
Loves rock climbing and bouldering.
Has pockmarks on his cheeks. Had tried different products to make them fade away, but gave up and accepted his fate.
Uses a lot of post-it notes around his apartment.
Jason Todd (22-24ish yo)
Jason is the only one with brown eyes. You cannot convince me otherwise. Don’t try to.
He’s the best cook out of all the guys. Finds it very therapeutic. Genuinely enjoys making meals especially if others can stop by for dinner or pick up his food. (always makes me think of those pics of him and Dick in the kitchen in Gotham Knights!)
Has type 1 diabetes, uses a pump. (As mentioned here!)
Has a private library stamp for his book collection because any time someone visits him, somebody borrows (steals) books from him.
Plays the violin, self-taught as an adult. It’s his “safe” hobby that convinces his neighbours that he’s just a regular guy.
Has a full arm tattoo sleeve, it’s his way of dealing with body dysmorphia and body image issues. His tattoos include book references, fav movie characters and different symbols for all of the siblings (not their super hero stuff though, for safety reasons).
Has reading glasses. (As mentioned here!)
Hates arugula, loves Italian cuisine. He is not afraid of carbs (his glucose monitor states otherwise) and makes noodles often.
Has wavy hair but doesn’t use proper products for his texture.
Has veryyy straight teeth naturally. Others are jealous.
Tim Drake (20-21ish yo)
Journals. Even when he’s severely sleep deprived. It’s his way of dealing with heavy stuff, but also his archive in case he goes missing.
Has a nintendo switch. Doesn’t really use it but he knows that Damian steals it that’s why he keeps it instead of selling it.
Has a proper skin care routine. It includes dying his hair dark every 4 weeks cause he has gray hairs due to stress.
Uses ktape regularly. Struggles with chronic back pain and uses a foam roller.
Is vegan. Doesn’t try to convince other peeps to switch to veganism knowing that they are barely capable of making food for themselves. Will make an exception and eat meat if it’s a meal prepared by somebody close to him.
Is a huge music fan, listens to music often. Mostly metal, but also pop, rap. Doesn’t really discriminate music genres.
Loves playing board games. Is the type to bring board games to social meetings of sorts in case people want to play.
Has a very pleasant, contagious laugh. Rarely laughs out loud, but those who know his laugh try hard to make him laugh for that matter.
Has really sparse facial hair. Would like to grow out a stache or beard but cannot.
Blushes very easily. Doesn’t like it. Despises cold temperatures for that matter.
#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#headcanons#dick grayson headcanons#jason todd headcanons#tim drake headcanons#dc comics#dc comics headcanons#dc comics imagine#batfam headcanons#batfamily#batfamily headcanons#dc fanon#dc robin#red hood#red robin#dick grayson x reader#jason todd x reader#tim drake x reader
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DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #17
(I had this idea when I learned that there are some people who give out their phone numbers for people to give to someone who is harassing them/giving creepy vibes/or just plain not interested.
Btw, if you wanna add a ship between Danny and any of the mentioned captured vigilantes, go right on ahead! If you're not a fan of ships, that's fine too. Later!)
✦
Who You Gonna Call?
After the Anti-Ecto Acts were dismantled and the townwide internet/communications blackout is dismantled, Danny's social media for his alter ego blows up. He won't lie either, he loves the mostly positive attention whereas before he'd only been met with fear and hatred.
It isn't until he makes a post where he jokingly mentions the Fenton patented Anti-Creep Stick™ (yes it actually works on ghosts) that he gets loads of comments on how many wish it would work on human creeps giving unwanted attention (it actually does because it's literally just a baseball bat covered in anti-ghost paint, but meh) or really just have Danny himself scare away the creeps because of the whole "being a ghost" thing. Naturally, this sets off Danny's protection obsession and he decides to do something about it.
With a little help from Technus, Danny learns to manipulate and travel through phone connections and then releases a separate phone number for people to use/give away if they're stuck in an uncomfortable situation.
Here's the funny part tho.
Red Hood somehow uses the number kinda as a joke to, well, sic Phantom on the Joker while him, Nightwing, and Red Robin are tied up for another one of the clown's schemes. It works a little too well though. Turns out the Joker is wanted in the Infinite Realms for continued interference on peaceful relations between said Realms and the Living World, i.e. - terrorism. It's then discovered that Joker is in fact considered liminal by ghost standards and therefore falls under Danny, the Ghost King's, jurisdiction.
So basically, Jason calls Phantom's Anti-Creep number as a joke, Phantom actually shows up via phone connection, and all three of them wind up witnessing firsthand the Joker being dragged into a glowing green, concerningly Pit-like portal, bound in chains + kicking and screaming. Phantom even stops long enough to untie them, shake hands with a shocked Red Hood, thanks him for his help, and then leaves like it never happened.
Now. How the hell are they going to explain this to Batman?
✦
This idea has probably already been thought of before but I haven't seen it. If someone has, please direct me to it. 👀
#dp x dc#dc x dp#danny gives out his phone number for people to use when in uncomfortable/dangerous situations#jason decides to see if it actually works and inadvertently gets the Joker jailed for trial in the infinite realms#joker is liminal#that's gonna become a huge problem for him real quick#jason definitely follows all of phantom's social media accounts#danny is ghost king#ghost obsessions#protection and space#dp crossover#danny phantom crossover#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc prompt#writing prompt#prompt
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DP x DC: The al Ghul twins but with a twist! P2!!
Training, as it had always been, was tiring. Add on the fact that now, he was at least a meta-adjacent, his training regime was updated to accomadate that too. Which is annoying.
Actually, Danyal meant he hated his life in the League of Assassins. Relearning all he did back when he was a child, training like a madman and rekindling his ‘kill as fast as possible’ style of fighting, manipulating and experimenting with the Lazarus waters (It stunk. It stunk so much that Danny just couldn’t even be in the same room as it. Ugh, why was his life so fucking hard), and tinkering and engineering with gadgets whenever possible.
Danyal realizes just how much he had it easy back in Amity. The amount of free time he had, how much fun just letting lose and have nice kiddy brawl with ghosts, puns and snark, and… acting.
It had been a months since he returned. Only about few days till his seventeenth birthday. The day he plans on meeting his brother’s new family and Damian himself. In those months, he had stopped denying, letting himself acknowledge that yes, he did start caring. And he had started caring too much. It’s been a pain the unlearn all of it. And as much as he was Danyal, he was also Danny just as much.
He can be serious when he wants to be. But sometimes, an easygoing smile and mischievous glint in his eyes felt… better. It felt like he was normal again.
Normal felt more like home than whatever he had been before that.
Now, graduating from tutors and what was basically the league’s version of homeschool- he is very smart thank you, it’s just that Danny wasn’t supposed be as smart- his schedule had opened up significantly.
Which meant more training and now, lessons on business and how to deal with people and stuff related to leading the League and shit.
And perhaps this is also the best time to mention this. His coronation or something had been… delayed. Seeing as he was away doing a covert mission, meaning his education in the league was far behind. Which aslo meant, time is no longer a resource he has an abundance of.
Someone please kill him all the way. Paperwork as a monarch in the infinite realms is so much better than whatever the fuck he is going to learn in the aforementioned business shit and how to rule assassin cults. Scratch that- paperwork as a monarch so much better than the League itself. Why didn’t he kidnap Sam and Tuck with him when he returned?!
Danyal felt like crying… jokingly, though. Taking them here would just result in them getting killed or them getting forced to become assassins themselves.
Sighing, he resumed tinkering with the fun little gun he had been working on since last week.
He just hopes he would be able to say what he wanted to Damian… (and of course, terrorrize Batman and his army of children! It’s gonna be so fun!)
Invisibility and intangibility together was already a deadly match up to any living being. Which is the reason why literally no one at the dining table could notice him next to the big bat himself (Though Danny was pretty sure Signal- Duke Thomas- was sweating because of him. So… he could see his aura even if Danny was invisible).
Danyal had to say, he didn’t have any plan in his mind. Mostly because Danny didn’t plan and Danyal had grown used to not really having that in his head. He considered just leaving Damian an encrypted letter, but really, where’s the fun in that? (Danyal prioritized efficiency first and foremost. It seems everyone he met and befriended back in Amity had more influence on him than he thought)
So now, he was left debating whether or not he should just appear standing on the table doing jazz hands. He would most definately get killed by one of them if Danyal does that. But dying works in his situation.
It wouldn’t make him cool though… Then, an idea struck in his head. What if…
Damian, all things considered, was having a good time. His birthday was going great even. It’s just that at times, his mind would wander back to the sibling he had left behind. Sometimes, he would wonder if Danyal had returned from his mission. Or if he decided he wanted to live there- in Amity park- for the rest of his life.
Damian hopes he did.
He knows that nowadays, he couldn’t stand to see an indifferent expression and an emotionless stare on Danyal’s face. Because nowadays, his own semi-permanent scowl had melted into something else. Something less haunted. He couldn’t face that he went on to live his best life while leaving Danyal all the responsibilities Damian was supposed to shoulder.
So it was a pleasent surprise when he realized that the Danyal in front of him- the intruder who infiltrated the manor, who appeared out of nowhere next to father, who has a handful of father’s hair in his fist, who had, also, pulled father’s head back harshly (Damian almost wondered of Danyal was here to take him and the rest of the Bats to the other side)- was smiling. Smiling like he was here to torture them and have fun while doing that but… for once, Danyal was smiling. Openly.
The Bats didn’t even take a second to stand up and immediately engage in combat with the intruder. If it had been anyone else, facing almost all of the Bats at the same time would have been a death sentence.
Yet, in Damian’s eyes, Danyal almost looked like he was having fun. Easygoing smile, the mirth, the- the everything. It just screamed relaxed and having fun. Despite himself, Damian didn’t actually get up from his seat. He observed the person flinging his siblings into walls. He observed his actual brother.
Kick, dodge, punch, open palm strike, a tornado kick, flinging father to the wall this time, using Brown as a meat shield before tossing her towards Cain.
Unlike what he was so sure of, Danyal wasn’t here to assassinate the Waynes. He, at most, was here to have a good brawl. But that didn’t make sense. It really didn’t. Why was Danyal here? Why did he make himself known? No one came after Damian to take him back after the first few assassins because there was still an heir. A spare who blended in with the shadows better than even father. As far as he was concerned, Danyal had only gotten at hiding better at hiding. So why? It was all confusing and it made Damian angry and he just wanted answers and what else was he supposed to do? Damian did the only thing that came to mind.
He screamed for everything to stop. He slammed the table and sent a League worthy glare towards his family. All of them. Which included Danyal and father and Alfred and- everyone.
(Damian will not admit to being nervous. No never.)
They had listened. Everyone freezing in their spot as they all stared at Damian with shock. They would have died by now if Danyal decided to take advantage of that. The rest becoming aware of their mistake and sending weary glances toward their opponent. Not that Damian cares much about that currently.
“Danyal. Explain why you are here.” His voice was low and rough. It was a tone he only used in the early months of his arival here. A tone the League forced him to talk in.
Currently he needed answers and asking directly always worked. He was extra cautious in not letting anything known. While he hated to hide himself from Danyal, he didn’t know the Danyal in front of him well enough and any show of to a League assassin meant death. A gruesome one.
And really, he expected many things in response. A harsh laugh in his face or the ever present indifference that plagued Danyal when he was young. Maybe even immediately getting maimed by his beloved brother. A brother who was supposed to protect him from the shadows.
What he didn’t dare expect (yet still hoped for) was Danyal’s face and stance and the way he held himself- all visibly softening. A smile that seemed so geniune, something Damian never saw himself, something looked so foreign on the face he and Danyal shared.
“I’m here to congratulate you, akhi" And the tone he heard, it made his eyes burn. Danyals voice had lost its harshness. It had different tones- so unlike the emotionless monotoneous voice he always heard. It had all the gentleness of of the world. And Damian dared to hope. Hope that Danyal is free from the League like he was too. He really did. Because by now, he had thick and big tears tailong down his cheeks. His eyes burned.
And he was finally happy. Happy to have finally gotten his sibling back. The one before Danyal encased himself in harsh cold ice seemingly over night one day. Damian finally felt like he got his sibling back.
Danyal was now fretting over him, expressive in a way Damian hadn’t seen in more than a decade. Danyal was a phenomenal actor. And his cold hard demeanor was a facade Damian had witnessed getting built. Finally it had all melted away. Finally he can hug his brother tightly and say all the things he hesitated to say.
Finally, they can be regular brothers now.
In the back if mind, he noted that his father and family was sending confused glances to each other. He couldn’t care less about that.

#part 2#danny fenton#damian wayne#danyal al ghul#batfam#yippee#dp crossover#dp x dc au#dp x dc#throw the batfam into the wall#its so much fun#im not a feral little shit or a menace to society so i dont kow how terrorrize someone#im sorry:(((
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Angel
Summary: Based on 14x09 where BAU!Reader recounts how working the case reminded her of Spencer's addiction
a/n: tbh this is trash, just trying to get some motivation back
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Fluff)
Content Warning: references to Spencer's Dilaudid addiction
Word Count: 1.1k
Masterlist | Navigation
There are flowers on the table.
That's the first thing Y/n notices and the only thing out of place in their otherwise tidy house. Spencer's always been a clean person.
The kid clutter- books, coloring pens, tiny shoes, the occasional Lego figure- that clutter, he's proud of.
Next to the vase is a bowl of pasta in a tomato-based sauce, and she guesses because of that, there's at least one child-size shirt soaking in the laundry with a stain on it.
"Hey, beautiful." Spencer makes her jump with his silent footsteps, followed by sudden voice. He touches her shoulders, massaging them softly.
She turns around, placing a quick kiss on his lips. "Hey. Missed you."
He pulls her forward, resting his head on top of hers. "Missed you too. Glad you made it back safe."
Things are different since the bureau mandated Spencer take time off as part of his reinstatement after prison. After the births of their three kids, Y/n stayed home, naturally, on maternity leave while Spencer continued going out on cases with the team. In between, and for most of their relationship and marriage, they worked at the BAU, spending almost every minute together. But this is different. Now, Spencer's the one that spends more time in DC, and in his 30 days not working at the BAU, he does an excellent job as a househusband.
Y/n pulls back, admiring his features for the first time in days."Sleeping angels?" She checks.
He scoffs lightly. "Not so much." She raises her eyebrows, humored. "Water, bathroom, another story, you know how it goes."
She chuckles. "Oh, yeah, I've heard that song before."
"Love them, though." He adds. "Are you hungry?"
"Starving." She turns to the delicious-smelling pasts on the table while his hands stay on her waist. Spencer's learned a lot while being a dad but his learning to cook has been very rewarding for her.
They move to the couch, needing to be closer than they would be if they were sitting at the table.
Her smile dimmers after she's complimented his cooking, and he's called her beautiful again. It's an easy difference in demeanor to spot for Spencer as a husband rather than a profiler.
"The case?" Spencer guesses.
Y/n takes a deep breath in and shrugs. "One like that wouldn't get to me usually." She tries to dismiss her feelings.
He catches it, having used the same technique many times. If it's bothering her, they're going to discuss it. "It was Tara's ex-husband that discovered a pattern?"
"Mm-hmm, uh, Daryl, he brought it to her, thinking there was an angel of death unsub killing people in the recovery community." She recaps, although he already knows from their discussion on the phone.
Technically, he's only allowed to know the basic details, not offer advice, but as long as Emily doesn't officially know that the occasional case-solving tip comes from Spencer, it's okay.
"What was his vice?" He asks.
Tara didn't want to spill all the details, but Y/n had made a few assumptions. "Alcohol, drugs later, I think."
"So why was this one more difficult than usual?" Spencer asks, frowning then it hits him. "Oh."
Y/n feels a pang of guilt in her chest at Spencer's expression contorting. "No, I don't mean-" She pauses, not knowing what to say. Neither can deny that her feelings are connected to what Spencer went through.
"Comparing the victims to me?" He guesses again.
Her selfishness feels even worse than her guilt. "No. Tara had to give a heart-wrenching speech. And we were in very different situations, her and Douglas and you and I, but it made me think about that time." She tries to explain it.
Spencer understands, and he nods solemnly. "We never talk about that in relation to you." He realizes that it's something he feels guilty about.
"I don't like to talk about it." She shrugs. "Just hearing what Tara said struck a chord." She could feel Tara's pain through Emily's repeated words, and it was all too easy to remember the heartbreak of seeing someone she loved struggling.
Spencer takes her hand, squeezing it lightly. "We can talk about it whenever you want, you know?"
"Not now." She shakes her head. "I missed you."
He smiles softly, resting against the couch and spreading his arms out. Y/n rests her legs over his and tucks herself under his arm. "I missed you too." He kisses her forehead and holds her closer. Things feel better when they're all under one roof. "Y/n, it's really important to me that you know how much I appreciate you staying through that. You're an angel, you know?"
"Spence." She coos, touching his cheek softly and momentarily getting caught in his eyes. "It wasn't a hard choice to stay with you and support you through that. I love you, and I'll always be here for you."
He takes a deep breath in. "I love you too. I could talk about how grateful I am for you forever, you know?"
"I know." She laughs lightly, having heard those speeches from him more than once. It never gets less heartwarming.
Spencer shuffles slightly, reaching out to take something off the coffee table. She raises her eyebrows until a look of recognition takes over her features.
"A photo album?" She asks curiously. "Why's that out here?"
"It's our first." He explains as he opens it, tracing his finger over the cover page. "Tillie wanted to see it." He finds the page he's looking for, showing her a photo of them.
Y/n grins, looking at it, remembering the exact second it was taken. "You look so little." She coos, touching the glossy picture of them. They're not much older than 25, fresh-faced, innocent, and dressed nicely. Spencer's smiling the adorable smile he still smiles today. It's stayed the same through every challenge they've faced.
"You've always been so beautiful." He mumbles, stroking her hair with his spare hand.
Her cheeks heat as she taps him on the shoulder. "Stop." She whines.
"Never." He shakes his head. "You're gorgeous, and I'm going to make sure you know it. I have no idea how I got so lucky."
She chuckles, shaking her head. "I'm the one that got lucky, marrying a genius."
"I married a genius too," Spencer claims, and he pulls her even closer to him like there's any chance she wants to move.
"Can we just sit here a while?" She asks as she relaxes more into him.
He leans down to kiss her forehead. "For as long as you want, angel."
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fandom#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid one shot#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds fanfic
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boy wonder #2. thoughts? (and prayers)






...i'm enjoying this series SO much, juni ba is seriously incredible.
i really love when we get a series that branches out from the usual art styles, like how they've also done with batgirls, and harley quinn. especially the colour palettes (which the boy wonder's one is BRILLIANT) like, that's what makes me really remember a comic series.
i also just LOVE juni ba's design for jason... i want to hold him in my hand and scrunch him up like a fresh piece of A4 paper.. he made him weird and gross and i LIVE FOR IT. other dc artists need to take notes. make him strange and fucked up more often!!
damian's KILLING ME.. going on about how much he relates to jason + sees his own story in his, i've been SAYING this!!!! i love seeing my own thoughts reaffirmed in the comics.
also the little details in jason's apartment, the grime and filth, the little "breathe slow" etched into the door, the cockroaches, the room with his 'past life', the implication that he has no life but his past life, and that he's nothing without what he was etc etc. SCREAMING
no matter how many times i see the same retellings of jason's story in different comic books... i devour it every time. i do love how he's being portrayed as still having somewhat severed connections to the family though, obviously refusing financial aid from bruce, living on his own, resisting the 'no guns' rule, and trying to repress everything he once was with them. not a fan of dc pushing the 'happy family' thing with jason just for the sake of the plot.
also the lazarus pit depiction, holy SHIT. giving full frankenstein, rotting corpse, decomposition, MUMMIFICATION. lab experiment gone WRONG. "like the torture started all over again" ARRRGGFFF
also the cigarettes and empty bottles on the floor, the scratching, the joker trauma + panic response to damian getting shot.. the people's jason honestly (i'm the people).. this comic's done more for his character in one issue than what dc has been able to manage in YEARS.
#at least there's one comic doing him right atm#don't even want to talk about batman 148.. that was so stupid#jason todd#red hood#the boy wonder#the boy wonder spoilers#damian wayne#robin#dc comics#dcu#dc#asks#where-that-old-train-goes#!!!!!!#gothihop speaks
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Hii I hope your day is going well ! I was looking through your masterlist and saw your music hcs from a few years ago for the straw hats and I don't think you did the followup for supernova trio? I was wondering if i could request that myself or even music hcs for all supernovas if possible? Thank you :)
Ahoy! I sorta haven't been getting around to it like many of my other hcs and requests, but I am in the mood to do music related stuff! Also I've broaden my music tastes a lot since last time so I might need to update the Strawhats' later, but for now we're here for-
Music Genres/Artists the Supernovas Listen to (Headcanons)
Law
If your first thought is that he listens to the most edgiest emo music there is, you're absolutely right!/hj
Okay, but being real here, he's gonna be picky about the edgy music, I'd say it leans more to moody rather than depressed
Songs like that would be Something in the Way and Heart-Shaped Box by Nirvana, Paint it Black by Rolling Stones, Natural, Bones and (maybe) Enemy by Imagine Dragons, Heathens and Stresssd Out by Twenty One Pilots, Losing My Religion by R.E.M. , Crying Lightning by Artic Monkeys, Duvet by Bòa
Crazy by Gnarls Barkley was 1000% played a repeat nurmous times
Can be found at 1 am - 3 am listening and sometimes singing Wake Me Up Inside/hj
Oblivion by Dirty Palm on the other hand is played here and there but he's not too much a fan of bass songs unless he is at the club drunk and dancing all that stress & trauma off (love that one rave Law fanart )
Viva La Vida by Coldplay is a classic favorite for him
You know, he probably listens to Maneater by Daryl Hall because Dr. Heart Stealer gives those vibes
Enjoys the SIAMÉS album Bounce Into The Music but would also find comfort in their album Home
His go to genres would be soft rock or alternative rock but isn't opposed when it comes to certain pop songs like Don't You Worry Child (catch him at the right time and he will get emotional over that song)
Enjoys the older stuff & independent artists (I remember reading Law is German so many he'd like German music?)
Artists he listens to: Nirvana, Coldplay, Three Doors Down, Franz Ferinard, Artic Monkeys, The Score, Imagine Dragons, and Fall Out Boy
Kid
Metal Music
Was that not obvious?
Loves the classics
Metallica, Guns & Roses, Thrasher, Black Sabbath, Rob Zombie, Three Days Grace, Smashing Pumpkins
He enjoys rock
The Offspring, Foo Fighters, Skid Row, Rolling Stones, Finger Eleven, Ozzy Osborne, AC/DC
He enjoys some new bands like Yungbund, Blacklite District, and Goku Luck
I know there's pirate metal but he gives more viking metal vibes (does listen to both)
You know he's jamming out to the second Death Note opening & Kaiju No. 8's opening
Traitor by Daughtry and Unstable by Chaotica
He might like phonk
Says rap is crap (who's gonna tell him Goku Luck is hiphop)
Allergic to Country/serious
Is the kind of Metalhead that says Nu Metal is not Metal
Psst, can I let you in on a little secret? He secretly listens to Lady Gaga, don't tell anyone or he'll kill you
Killer
Listens to most of the stuff Kid does but also has his own tastes
Nickel Back, Coldplay, Valley of Wolves, Unsecret, Skillet, One OK Rock, Meatloaf, Opal in Sky, Okamoto, The Cranberries, and Man With a Mission
Killer is more familiar with sea shanties than Kid
He enjoys listening to Uta (Ado), his favorite song of hers would be Gira Gira because he does relate to the lyrics (he really wanted to go to her concert but the crew probably got caught up doing business on another island and missed it)
Secretly would go to a 90s pop rave, waving glowsticks as artists like 2 Unlimited blast through the speakers/silly
Is the kind of Metalhead that says Nu Metal is Metal (not in front of Kid though)
Also allergic to country/serious
Hawkins
Dark Academia and Goth Ambience
He enjoys the somber pianos, it's peaceful and helps him study
Organ pianos are pleasing to him as well, if played right
He might be able to play piano but the violin (which is another instrument he enjoys listening to) is tricky to find the rhythm he prefers
Does love classic violin yet finds the epic violin music videos on YouTube to be appealing
And if he’s not listening to that, meditation/ambiance music is playing
Unironically listens to background music from video games such as Minecraft or Genshin Impact
Moonlit Night from the Death Parade OST is one of his favorites
If you can't tell, he enjoys soothing instrumentals
Is a big fan of Tchaikovsky
Enjoys music from 90s Disney (Cinderella especially)
Absolutely listens to Phantom of the Opera! Look at this man! You can't tell me he doesn't!
Probably enjoys French love songs
Apoo
DJ Apoo is in the house and you know he's all about the funky music!
80s, 90s, 00s, 10s, and even 20s, he loves all the rave & bass boost songs
Eurodancer, Daft Punk, 2 Unlimited, it's all a bop
Hip-hop & Rap are his jam (his taste for that would not be mine so you may list them here)
Apoo is pretty organized with his playlists, being a DJ and all, has most of them separated by genre
He thinks listening to music from Anime, Movies, and Video Games is stupid (*hands you your baseball bat*)
Drake
His ass is boring
He listens to whatever is playing on the radio
Not much of a music guy so he doesn't have any custom playlists
He might be fond of a few songs that come on the radio
Music to Drake is mainly just background noise when driving
While he doesn't mind someone playing their music, he prefers if he can understand the lyrics
Drake will easily get flustered if he hears spicy songs being played, especially if someone else is there, if he’s alone he’s instantly changes the station
Bonney
Popstars by KDA
I think her taste leans to rebellious as in "Fuck you, I do what I want"
So her taste can go from Don't Threaten Me With a Good Time by Panic At The Disco, to Seven Nation Army by White Stripes
Artists she listens to on the regular would be The Offspring, Panic At The Disco, BTS(?), P!nk, Fallout Boy, Cozmez, Fake Type, UNSECRET, and Eminem
Maybe a few Kelly Clarkson songs like Stronger and Since You've Been Gone
She does not like others putting on music, you can expect her to make a fuss if you try putting on something
Auxcord hog
Bege
The Godfather OST/hj
But for real he does like Italian instrumentals
Has a taste for soft love ballets
A few French and Spanish songs are appealing to him
He doesn't like pop, hip hop, rock, metal, or rap, and doesn't understand why the youth enjoy it so much
Except for 80s J-pop, he can see the appeal for songs such as Airport Lady by Toshiki Kadomatsu or Telephone Number by Junko Ohashi
And soft rock, specially the love songs like Just The Way You Are by Billy Joel or Can't Help Falling in Love With You by Elves (he just loves his wife, guys)
Urouge
So basing this off one of his hobbies Oda has confirmed
He loves seductive music, whether it’s playing in the background or he looking for something to listen to
Most played songs is Careless Whispers
Jazz and spicy pop are his top genres
Prime examples are: Mirrors by Natalia Kills, Sway by Michael Bublé, Pause by Pitbull, One More Night by Maroon 5, Stalker's Tango by Autoheart Lent
I could make playlists for them if y'all want but for now, do what you will with these headcanons, make your own playlists ✨️
#one piece#trafalgar law#one piece headcanons#one piece hcs#supernovas#one piece supernovas#eustass kid#jewelry bonnie#jewelry bonney#capone bege#basil hawkins#scratchman apoo#one piece urouge#urouge#x drake#massacre soldier killer#one piece law#one piece trafalgar law#one piece kid#one piece killer#one piece x drake#one piece hawkins#one piece bonney#mad monk urouge#trafalgar water d law#one piece eustass kid#one piece eustass#one piece drake#hawkins#requested
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Keepsafes
Fandom: Batman, DC Comics
Summary: AU where Martha and Thomas survive, and they adopt the batkids.
Chapters: 81/?
Characters: Bruce Wayne, Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Harvey Dent, Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, David Cain, Talia al Ghul, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, Tim Drake
Relationships: Thomas Wayne/Martha Wayne/Alfred Pennyworth, BruHarvey, BruTalia
Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Hurt/Comfort, Bruce Wayne is Not Batman, Angst, Alfred Pennyworth Knows All, Bruce Wayne Only Has One Child, Bruce Wayne is Not An Only Child, Bi Bruce Wayne
Chapter Eighty-One: Joey
Dick ran into a blond boy, signing to a woman, and he apologized with a simple sign. “You understand me?” the boy questioned.
“I understand,” Dick replied, “My name is Dick.” Dick fingerspelled his name. “Short for Richard. This is my brother, Bruce Wayne.”
“Joey. Short for Joseph. This is my mom, Adeline Kane,” Joey replied. “I’m hearing, by the way.” Joey pulled his collar down to show Dick his scar.
“I see. My cousins on our mom’s side are Kanes. Does your mom know Martha Wayne or Jacob Kane?” Dick questioned.
Joey turned to his mom and asked if she knew them. “Jacob Kane is pretty well known, but we’re not related. He’s got a great reputation, though,” Adeline answered verbally. Adeline turned her attention to Bruce and squinted at him.
“Hi, I’m Bruce. Dick’s older brother… I think we met in Brussels shortly before my Aunt Gabi passed,” Bruce explained.
Adeline frowned as the memory came to her. “Did they ever find the man who shot you?” Adeline asked. Dick’s eyes widened, and he went sort of green. Dick knew little of his older brother before he came to live at the manor. Bruce didn’t volunteer that sort of information readily.
Bruce placed a steadying hand on the back of Dick’s head. “They did,” Bruce answered.
Dick looked up and over at Bruce before returning his attention to Joey. “I’m sorry about Gabi. She was a wonderful woman,” Adeline whispered.
“I appreciate that. Thank you,” Bruce gently smiled.
**
Thomas gave Cassandra his phone to speak to David, and she sat on the couch. “Hi, Cassandra,” David greeted her. He almost sounded cheerful.
“Hi. Did you get my letter?” Cassandra asked.
“I did… I’m trying. I know—. I never wanted a daughter until I had you. Now, you’re all I can think about. I love you so much, Cassie, and I know it doesn’t change anything. I’m not warm or affectionate like the Waynes…
“I don’t hate you for not being what I want you to be. I think I love you more because you go against everything I believe in and understand to be true. You are a weapon, but you chose to be something else. Something beautiful. Maybe you were always meant to be good… Maybe you’re what your mother and I couldn’t be.
“Doesn’t mean I want you dead or anything. It just means I have to change the way I look at things. Change my idea of what your future looks like. I’m a killer. If I wasn’t in here, I’d still be a killer. It’s just who I am… You aren’t like me. Your loyalties are—.”
“I’ll be old enough to do youth MMA in two more years,” Cassandra interrupted. “It’s not killing, but I could show you that I still like to fight.”
“I didn’t know—. You’re a good daughter… I wish I had been a better father,” David whispered. “I uh—. I gotta go, Cassie… But tell Thomas I said I’m sorry I tried to kill him.”
Cassandra smiled. “I love you… And I will. Bye, Pop,” Cassandra replied.
“I like that. Bye, Cassie,” David replied before hanging up.
Thomas looked at Cassandra and waved. “Good chat?” Thomas questioned.
“He said he was sorry for trying to kill you,” Cassandra smiled. Thomas sat on the couch, and she climbed onto his lap.
“Well, next time he calls, I want you to tell him I forgave him a long time ago… You told him about youth MMA?” Thomas asked. Cassandra nodded. “How’d he feel about that?”
“I think he was happy,” Cassandra replied. “I think I’m happy, too.”
**
Harvey tickled Gilda on the living room floor until someone rang the doorbell, and Harvey froze and covered her mouth. “Maybe they’ll go away,” Harvey whispered.
“Harvey Dent… We’re coming!” Gilda shouted.
“You would’ve been in just a little while if you hadn’t forced me to answer the door,” Harvey muttered as he helped her off the blanket on the floor.
Gilda smiled and grabbed his hand, kissing his knuckles. “I’ll make it up to you. Come on,” Gilda whispered.
Harvey gestured for Gilda to stand behind him as he looked through the peephole and answered the door. “Dad?” Harvey asked. “Gil’, go in the room.”
“I wanna stay here,” Gilda whispered.
“Gilda, please,” Harvey whispered. The smell of beer hit him, and Harvey’s stomach turned.
“She’s a pretty little thing… Is this the wife?” Harvey’s father questioned.
“Yeah… This is my wife, which is why I want her to go in the room. What are you doing here? I told you how I felt about you coming around me when you’re—.” Mr. Dent pushed past him into the house, and Harvey grabbed his arm. “Dad, stop. Gilda, go into the room and lock the door.” Gilda saw the distress in Harvey’s face, and she did as he asked.
“What’s the matter? You too good to see your old man now?” Mr. Dent asked.
“I don’t wanna fight. I just want you to get out—.”
“Harvey, don’t be like that. I wanted to talk to you about—.”
“No. No, I don’t wanna talk to you. Get out,” Harvey replied as he tried to push Mr. Dent toward the door. “Get out. Get out of my house!”
Mr. Dent shoved Harvey back onto the couch. “You listen to me!” Mr. Dent whispered.
Harvey was much bigger than his father, and it was his house… But the fear from his childhood hadn’t left him. Mr. Dent staggered forward, grabbing Harvey’s shoulder and breathing liquor into Harvey’s face. Harvey turned his head, feeling the full weight of his father as he seemed to fall forward gradually. Harvey made a soft noise of protest like a whimper as he tried to roll away, but Mr. Dent would’ve fallen on him if he moved. And the embarrassment would quickly turn to rage.
Harvey lay on the couch, stiff and afraid as he waited for Mr. Dent to move away. “Why’d I have to hear the news from someone else?” Mr. Dent asked.
“It’s not like you show up for anything, Dad… I told Thomas—.”
“You told him about your baby—.”
“What? No. What are you talking about?” Harvey questioned.
“Be honest with me—. “
“That’s none of your business… And for your information, if Gilda was pregnant, I wouldn’t want you anywhere near our child,” Harvey replied. “And for your information… She’s not pregnant.” A lie. “Please let me take you home, Dad. Okay.”
“Let me say… Let me say goodbye to my daughter-in-law,” Mr. Dent mumbled.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. She’s not feeling well,” Harvey lied. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Okay,” Mr. Dent muttered, “Bye, Gil’!”
**
Bette giggled as Dylan blindfolded her and walked her through the house with cheerful intention. “Daddy, what are you doing?” Bette laughed.
“We’re going to see Maël,” Dylan replied.
“Daddy, I know what Maël looks like,” Bette giggled as she reached for her blindfold.
“Hey, no. Come on, humor me, Mary Elizabeth,” Dylan interrupted her. “We’re almost there.” He opened the door to the drawing room and took Bette’s blindfold off. “Her name is Miette.” The black bundle of curls lifted her head and revealed two dark hazel eyes. A bardet. Her mouth open and panting as she smiled at Bette. Clothed in a floral harness, she was sweet-looking and patient, waiting for Bette to approach.
Bette stood uncharacteristically still, and Maël and Dylan panicked and started stammering.
Bette got on the ground and held Miette’s face in her hands. Mielle kissed her face as Bette started crying. “Oh, bun… We thought it’d be a good idea to really start acting like a family… And I—. With your mom, we got Saga. Now, we have Miette… I just—.”
“You’re the best daddies in the whole world,” Bette cried. “Where did you get her?”
“My assistant, Nasir, went to Metropolis to move his mother into the assisted living facility nearby, and he’s allergic to Miette. Maël was in Metropolis for work, so I asked if he could get a feel for Miette,” Dylan explained.
“And she’s quite smart. She’s still quite young. Only two and a half,” Maël added. “She’s very sweet. Nasir said that Miette used to sleep in his mother’s bed. She’s the daughter of their family dogs.”
“She’s gorgeous,” Bette smiled, “Aren’t you, Miette? You are going to be so happy here. Wait, does she speak English?” Maël and Dylan chuckled.
#fic#keepsafes fic#batfam#Bruce Wayne#Thomas Wayne#Martha Wayne#Alfred Pennyworth#Harvey Dent#Dick Grayson#Cassandra Cain#David Cain#Talia al Ghul#Damian Wayne#Jason Todd#Tim Drake#Thomas Wayne/Martha Wayne/Alfred Pennyworth#BruHarvey#BruTalia#Canon Divergent AU#Hurt/Comfort#Bruce Wayne is Not Batman#Angst#Alfred Pennyworth Knows All#Bruce Wayne Only Has One Child#Bruce Wayne is Not An Only Child#Bi Bruce Wayne
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Hello! I'm not sure if you read the Actions Comics #1074, but I wanted to get this thought out of my head. Spoilers ahead!
Clark got sent back in time when Krypton has yet to be destroyed. After saving a stranger from a malfunctioning flying bot, he was sent to Krypton Hospital and, after he was given treatment, a meal, and new set of clothes, he immediately went to place Lara and Jor-El were.
I couldn't help but think his sudden visit to Lara and Joe-El reminded me of how in some Asian countries, you could just walk into your neighbor's home, usually without a prior notice, and just...eat with them, talk with them, and other activities. I remember someone talking about how in their country, they would go to their neighbor's home so much and help them with chores like laundry, they knew the days when that neighbor does which chores and always got meal going there.
In my country, the Philippines, my grandpa's neighbors would just appear with no notice, and give my grandparents company!
Indeed, Clark did send some sort of message about his visit to that Lara received, but he immediately left from the Krypton Hospital to the place of Lara and Jor-El's, and even though the Science Council is conceited, the communal spirit must be so strong for Lara to just accept this stranger's sudden and quick request for a meeting, even though she doesn't know them.
just...something about community and how people just helping each other because they want to, which bring about an easier life and also a joyful one
Anyway! What comics have you recently read? I think Absolute Superman is out now! Have you read Absolute Superman? What do you think about it?
I gave said Action Comics issue a quick read!
It's definitely not intentional in the story, but it does serve as a nice jumping off point to thinking of Krypton as having a type of collectivist communal mindset for treating thy neighbors. Part of what fascinates me about Kryptonian worldbuilding is exploring what the idea of a doomed utopia could be like. I'd personally love to see writers pull inspiration from cultural philosophies like Gotong Royong or Bayanihan, along with challenging human structures of gender, class and spirituality. An indigenous-inspired Krypton would be phenomenal.
But as long as DC Comics continues to be a reflection of a white dominant industry, we're not going to get anything like that soon. The Action Comics story is charming enough, I like seeing Clark try out Kryptonian clothes and mention that he has a language barrier, but the white imagination can only go so far without having lived it.
I have read Absolute Superman! My feelings about it are actually pretty similar. I'm glad I wasn't excited for AbsoSupes because it sounded boring from the promos, and turns out, it (the first issue at least) was indeed dull. Something Absolute Superman shares in common with Absolute Batman is that it doesn't stand on its own. These takes rely on being contrarian (what they call "subversive") to their source material. If I didn't know anything about Superman, I'd honestly think this was a pretty generic alien superhero story.
I notice most of the people enjoying AbsoSupes are praising it because they've done 80 years of Superman homework to get all its references and recognize what it's twisting. But I think an over-reliance on expecting your audience to do reading pre-requisites to even like a story at all is weak. Absolute Wonder Woman on the other hand, is an outstanding, mythic take on the character- no homework required, just genuinely compelling characterization and storytelling.
(spoilers for Absolute Superman #1)
To bring this back to my feelings on Krypton, Superman writers and DC as a company; I think stuff like Man Of Steel, that Krypton tv show, MAWS and Absolute Superman reflect the very limits of the white imagination. New Superman writers are no longer invested in exploring Superman's origin planet as a utopia, because that's not something white people can relate to or fathom. Instead, they'd rather Krypton be a direct reflection of Earth's problems.
Kryptonians are now colonizers, classist and bigoted. Krypton is no longer the land of the future sending down their one hope to guide the imperfect people of Earth into a better tomorrow. There's no appealing contrast between Earth and Krypton anymore, and because of that- Kal El becomes an exception from Planet Colonizer. He's just some decent guy from the other equally shitty country. It's not that you can't make an interesting hero from that, but I've certainly seen that guy many times before. It's nothing new.
Kal now doesn't have a cast system and wanders around on his own, I've seen how that kind of character struggles because I've read Martian Manhunter stories. Kal talks to his suit because he's Iron Man now I guess. Kal was actually more grown up when he was on Krypton instead of a baby, so... just like Supergirl is in canon- well that's not new either. Lois Lane is a government agent here, because why have characters who occupy unique jobs like being a librarian or a journalist when you can make them yet another cop or agent? When the biggest personal experience integrated into Kal your Absolute Superman writer boasts about is how he's the first writer who is actually from Kansas to write Superman, this is what you get.
#askjesncin#jesncin dc meta#i know people love mark waid as a supes writer but be serious#is the guy who wrote Strange Fruit really going to give you the immigrant Superman story you deserve#i heard waid loved maws to the point he wish he thought of those ideas and I can't speak to the levels of dumb that makes him sound#media criticism#longish post?
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Freedom
whumptober24 day 16- necrosis, wound cleaning fandom- dp x dc tw- none summary- Danny is finally free
masterlist ao3 part 9 of ITR
Danny woke up somewhere that wasn’t the warehouse. He barely had any strength left, but he managed to look around. He was in what looked like a hospital room. He had only just started to panic when the door was flung open and Sam and Tucker rushed in.
“Danny!” they called together.
He smiled weakly. “Hey, guys.”
He grunted as they both wrapped their arms around him. “Can’t breathe.” he wheezed.
“Not like you need to.” Sam muttered, but they both eased off.
“It’s still nice to do.” Danny responded.
Sam scowled at him. “How dare you scare us like that. Daniel James Nightingale.”
Danny’s expression softened. “Sorry.”
“We’re just glad you’re alright Danny.” Tucker said, giving Sam a pointed look. She sighed, looking at the ground.
“Glad you’re not dead.”
“Well, deader at least.” Tucker said, smirking.
It was quiet for a moment, then Danny sighed, closing his eyes.
“How much do they know?”
“We told them you were liminal.” Sam said.
“Though we’re pretty sure the sad trenchcoat man and the bat furry don’t fully believe us.” Tucker said.
“It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to tell them anything, Danny.” Sam said.
Danny opened his eyes, glancing down at the bandages over his chest. “Do you know what he… what he carved into…”
Sam laid her hand over his. “It was a runic sequence. They sewed the wounds closed and bandaged you up, but we should probably still go see Frostbite. He used blood blossoms.”
“I know.”
They were quiet another moment.
“Maybe we should tell them.” Danny said. “They’re going to notice when my wounds don’t heal properly, and you both know that blood blossoms cause necrosis if not treated properly.”
They winced, and Tucker bit his lip while Sam scowled.
“This is your secret, Danny, whatever you decide we’ll be here for you.” Tucker said, and Sam nodded.
“Yes. And if they do anything wrong we’ve got plenty of blackmail material to keep them quiet. Tucker already hacked their systems, and I’ve got several ghosts on call.” Sam said.
Danny started to laugh before wincing in pain. “Yeah. I think we need to tell them something, before we go to Frostbite. I’m stable right now, but it would be best to get to the Far Frozen soon.” He paused. “What about the Anti-Ecto Act?” he whispered.
“They’re working on them.” Sam said.
“They are.” Tucker said. “I’ve been keeping track of their progress. They’ve got the GIW on hold for now, and it’s only a matter of time before they’re dissolved completely. There’s already drafts for laws that will go toward protecting ghosts. And…” Tucker glanced at Danny, “it would probably help if they had someone who could explain things better. Especially considering you’re going to be in charge one day.”
Danny rolled his eyes. “That’s a long time away. It’s not going to happen till I reach my natural death and then I’ll still have one hundred years to learn and train before taking the position.”
“We know. But you’ve still got connections that could help make the process of drafting the new laws easier. It would also help to establish relations early on.” Sam said.
Danny nodded reluctantly. “Alright, but we aren’t going to tell them about my status or anything.”
“Agreed.” Sam and Tucker said.
“Alright then,” Danny sighed again, “let the Bat in. I’m sure he’s the most curious.”
—
Batman walked into the room a half hour later.
“Hello, Mr. Nightingale. I am glad you appear to be recuperating.”
“Yeah. Thanks for helping out with my rescue.”
Batman inclined his head slightly.
“I assume you have questions.” Danny said not quite meeting Batman’s eyes.
“Yes.”
Danny sighed. “First of all, were you able to capture the cultist?”
“Yes. After you were rescued we were able to use a spell to locate where you had come from. Alfrus Bane is now in custody and the artifact he used has been locked up by Constantine.” Batman paused before continuing. “We are also making good progress on taking down the Anti-Ecto Acts. Rest assured the government will no longer be able to touch you… or anyone else who may be like you.”
Danny nodded. “Thank you.” He sighed. “My friends told you I was liminal, death touched.” Danny paused before deciding to just charge forward quickly. “That’s true but also not. I’m a bit more liminal than most. That’s why the artifact was able to control me. It happened once before and I was able to destroy that particular artifact. I would like this one to be destroyed as well. To keep others safe.”
“I will talk to Constantine about it, but I do not guarantee anything.”
Danny nodded. “Do you know of the Infinite Realms?”
“No.”
“It’s a place between dimensions, between realms. Imagine it like a sandwich. The bread is the dimensions and the stuff inside the sandwich is the Infinite Realms, except that the Realms connects all dimensions. There are creatures that live there, often called ghosts though not all of them are the consciousnesses of dead people.”
“And the GIW were after all the residents of this Realm?”
“Yes. You can see how the Acts could be catastrophic. If enough people from the Realms suffered at the hands of the GIW, they could have decided to attack.”
Batman stiffened. “I see. We shall make sure to dismantle the Acts and the GIW quickly and be sure they face the consequences for their actions. Is there someone… from the Realms who we could seek out to make amends with and possibly create a treaty?”
Danny suppressed a grimace. “There is. I can help get you in contact with them once I get better.”
Batman nodded. “Is there anything else you wish to tell me?”
Danny nodded. “There is, but I need to seek medical help first.”
“Is there anything else we can provide?”
“No.” Danny said, shaking his head. “The nature of my injuries means I need to seek help in the Infinite Realms. I will go there, and when I get better I can come back and explain things more thoroughly as well as get you in contact with someone from the Realms.”
“That would be greatly appreciated.” Batman inclined his head towards him. “I wish you a speedy recovery, Mr. Nightingale.”
“Thanks.”
“Contact me when you are better.”
“I will.”
Danny sighed as Batman left. That went okay, but he still wasn’t looking forward to having to explain things more. And he was dreading having to approach Batman as an ambassador or something of the Infinite Realms.
Oh well. He was free. He closed his eyes and let himself feel it for the first time since he woke up. He was free. Everything else could wait till he was better.
#whumptober2024#whumptober 2024#whumptober24#whumptober#no.16#necrosis#wound cleaning#danny fenton#danny phantom#dc x dp#dp x dc#batman#fanfic#justice league
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@mengyao and @bao3bei4 did a 20 questions meme and y'all know I love a meme.
1. How many works on AO3?
72! a wild number. I thought about stopping at 69 but the lure of posting is too great.
2. Total word count on AO3?
334,157. which frankly also feels surreal. at some point I have to recognize that I've been in fandom for almost 15 years and thus have amassed a pretty substantial word count despite almost never writing longfic!
3. Top five fics by kudos?
unfurl
mission parameters
everybody says
flash in the pan
field research
shocking no one, these are all DC fics, but they're not all the ones I would assume would be the most popular (field research is straight up sex club idfic porn!) I try very hard not to write with a capital-A audience in the back of my head aside from like, a handful of friends I know will yell at me about certain lines because a) that's a surefire way for writing to not be fun anymore and b) you simply can't know what is gonna get recced on some massive server you've never heard of and what is going to be the sleeper fave of like five really dedicated commenters.
this wasn't asked but it feels important: as of right now 666 people are subscribed to me. great number everyone can pack up and go home!
4. What fandoms do you primarily write for?
DC at this point, aside from my yearly excursion back into Friends at the Table for the Secret Samol exchange. I have to be careful enough with how and when I write that I don't know when I'll be able to answer the call of a new fandom. I'd like to write more HxH stuff, though!
5. Do you respond to comments?
if it's a substantial comment I really try to! comments bring me a tremendous amount of joy and I love to talk about my own writing (clearly.) I usually do in batches so it takes quite a while.
6. Angstiest ending?
one time I wrote a fic where one half of the pairing asked her wife to murder her, and her wife did <3
7. Fic with the happiest ending?
god. I feel like I so rarely write a completely uncomplicated happy ending, because all the characters I like to write are kind of miserable people. actually if we're not counting fluff or porn, which don't so much have a happy ending as start there and stay there, the answer to this one in terms of biggest distance from beginning to end is breath hot blood red. this is the fic where Bruce makes a deal with a Creature and reaps the consequences. you might think a fic with these particular tags could not possibly have a happy ending but it does! I think Bruce setting aside the cowl is actually the happiest ending he is ever going to get. I really waffled on whether to give him one tbh. in an alternate universe Dick dies on that rooftop and Batman eats Bruce alive :)
8. Do you get hate?
not particularly! I was worried when I started posting jaydick but tbh I've gotten weirder comments about how I characterize superbat lol. sorry I do not believe that two men with this many neuroses are always nice to each other. I'm including Clark in that too if you think that man escaped growing up an alien in small town Kansas with no psychological damage in how he treats himself and others I don't know what to tell you. yes he's superman yes self sacrifice and caring are at the very core of his being and yes that causes problems! it is difficult to be in love with someone who will always put the world's needs above your own even if you know they're right to do so; it's also difficult, in a very mundane way, to be in love with someone who would rather chew their own arm off than ask for something.
9. Do you write smut?
do I ever! I love writing porn. I think it's a great way to get at the root of how characters relate to each other and a fun writing exercise for me, who at this point has written a lot of porn, to figure out how to make this one feel fresh and new and also still be hot. sometimes when this happens you wind up writing chair kink. I can talk about character relationships all day long but at the end of the day it has to be hot!
10. Do you write crossovers?
aside from my one mdzs locked tomb au, which is more of a sci fi fusion that riffs off of one specific premise in that series, no! it's not usually something I'm super interested in - the reason I write fic for any canon is the juice in the existing character relationships, so I don't generally feel the need to pull in anyone else.
11. Ever had a fic stolen?
not to my knowledge! I mean I'm sure they've all been scraped but. :(
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
yes! itsuki_minatsu did a Mandarin translation of take a pic, strike a pose and I only wish I could read it because I bet the translations of the group chat are really funny.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic?
also yes! not in years though. I cowrote an ungodly amount of porn about ttrpg OCS in the process of getting together with my spouse (and also meeting many beloved friends.) I do often get inspiration from riffing off of things with friends on social media or in group chats, which has some of the same juice to me!
14. All time favorite ship?
truly not a question I can answer. I go back and read for a lot of old fandoms!
15. WiPs you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
this is a bit of a depressing question at this juncture so I am skipping it ✌️
16. Writing strengths?
due to my years in the Twitter mines making my friends sad via 140 characters or less I can create atmosphere quite quickly! I'm proud of my prose in general, and I put a lot of thought into creating meaty characters that bounce off each other in satisfying ways.
17. Writing weaknesses?
plot. oh my god. you want me to keep track of these people's emotions AND make up things to happen? there's a reason I've written a grand total of five fics that broke 10k and it's not just because I have chronic pain in my arms.
18. Thoughts on mixed language dialogue?
I know enough about how being multilingual works to know I won't be attempting it. The exception is I don't tend to translate titles or words that normally wouldn't be translated in an English sentence. I'm not out here making Lan Wangji play the zither.
I did have to go kind of the opposite direction in from the inside of the wound when Clark and Kara are speaking in Kryptonian, though, because a) I wanted their conversation to be entirely in Kryptonian but English for the reader because b) I can't be going into the conlang mines. I have utmost respect for folks like blorb-el who are out here doing the work! but once I cross that Rubicon I never come back and I need to save my language learning juice for languages that will help me out at work. I think I managed it with a minimum of awkwardness!
19. First fandom you wrote for?
warrior cats baybee! I was a proboards forum kid.
20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?
impossible question, I answer it differently every time. I think how cleanly how quietly might be one of my faves because Tim has historically been difficult for me to write and I wanted to make Bruce an unreliable narrator who's clearly in the wrong here while still making him not totally unsympathetic. (the comments section to that one kind of bears up my suspicion that your reaction to that fic is a litmus test for how you feel about your dad.) also I got to throw in a ton of Easter eggs which was simply so fun for me, a person who adores coming up with silly little details.
also tbh I think every year I do a secret Samol it comes out better than the last. some of my absolute best writing has been read by several dozen very dedicated people who are still into hieron six years after it ended. and for that I say thank you!!! friends at the table is your favorite writer's favorite writing. they're starting a new season now you can get in on the ground floor-
tagging: if you want to do this, you should tag me in it. for real, I mean that, I want to hear how you think about writing! even if we aren't mutuals!!!!
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20-David on a Plane
Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!SWAT!reader
Summary: 20-David flies to Washington DC, and along the way, you learn why Deacon can comfort you so easily.
Warnings: fluff, brief mention/description of nervousness, hints of anxiety, meddling and teasing, quick TSA-related terrorist joke
Word Count: 3.2k+ words
A/N: We are once again pretending Annie doesn't exist. This idea came to me while watching The Middle episode 2x16 ("Hecks on a Plane") during my recent trip! I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!
Picture from Pinterest
“It’s about me,” Luca taunts. “I know I should have told you, but I’m getting promoted.”
Street snorts as he closes his locker. “Sure. And Deacon’s got a hot date.”
You try not to laugh at the comment, but it slips out before you can stop it. Slapping a hand over your mouth, you see Deacon shake his head in your peripheral. His smile is still present, so he can’t be too mad.
“Luca, if you’re the reason we’re all getting called into Hicks’ office, I doubt it’s a promotion,” Hondo points out, slapping his shoulder. “I just hope the lecture is enjoyable.”
You sit on the bench behind your locker, leaning over toward Deacon.
“Ten bucks it’s none of the things they’ve said,” you whisper.
“You don’t think I’ve got a hot date?”
Turning your head quickly, you ask, “Do you?”
“I don’t appreciate the implication that it’s impossible.”
“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that,” you rush to say. Deacon presses his lips together to suppress his smile, and you lower your brows to glare at him. “I think Deacon’s getting moved to Rocker’s team,” you announce, “I’m sure you’ll be very happy together.”
Deacon shakes his head, throwing a jacket toward you as you walk away, taking cover behind Hondo.
“Guys!” Hondo yells with a chuckle. “We really do need to go, he’s been waiting.”
“As long as he’s not as impatient as Molly,” Street says under his breath.
“Dude, you’re so whipped!” Luca replies.
“What do you think it is? He doesn’t call all of us for a private meeting very often,” you ask Deacon as you walk out behind your team.
“Probably a congratulations from City Hall, or something equally rehearsed.”
You nod, unconsciously matching your steps to Deacon’s as you stay by his side.
“Close the door, Deacon,” Hicks requests once you’re inside. “I know you’re busy, but this should be quick. This team has done some incredible work in the last year, and the people of Los Angeles are lucky to have you protecting them.”
“Thank you, Commander,” Hondo offers.
“We can drop the formalities; this is good news. 20-David is being awarded a Medal of Valor.”
Street and Luca cheer, silencing when Hicks raises his hand.
“Not from the L.A.P.D. though. This one is coming from Congress by the President.”
Your jaw slackens, and your mouth falls open in shock. The rest of your team is similarly surprised, silent for once while taking in the good news.
“And, because of the mission last month, the President wants to award the medal himself. You’re flying to Washington DC to participate in the ceremony in the Rose Garden.”
“We’re going to DC!” Street cheers. Luca adds, “We can explore the DC food truck map!”
“Free trip,” Hondo says happily, looking toward you and Deacon. “But I need first class, I got long legs.”
“Yeah, about that,” Hicks interrupts. “We had some scheduling and budgeting issues, so you’re all flying coach.”
“No!” Hondo groans, tossing his head back as Street, Tan, and Luca continue talking about the food trucks in DC. “Can’t I pay the difference?”
“You’d have to leave the day before, the flight you’re on is booked.”
“What’s so bad about coach, Hondo?” Deacon inquires. “Too sophisticated for economy?”
“Yes,” Hondo says as if it’s obvious. You shake your head, and he points at you to argue, “You don’t want to either.”
“I could be duct-taped to the wing of the plane, Hondo. It’s an all-expense paid trip to receive a once in a lifetime award,” you point out.
“Which deserves once in a lifetime treatment.”
“Then fly out the day before,” Hicks says again. “Just let us know what you’re doing. We’re doing our best to get the return flight upgraded.”
“Coach,” Hondo mutters to himself, “like a normal person.”
“You’re certainly not normal, Hondo,” Deacon says, winking at you when you turn around to hide your smile.
✯✯✯✯✯
You walk into the terminal at Los Angeles International, LAX, expecting to meet your team on the other side of security.
“Good morning,” Deacon says as he walks to your side.
“Morning,” you reply, glad he’s the first one you run into. “How long have you been here?”
“Couple minutes. Hondo just texted that he, Street, Luca, and Tan are almost here.”
You nod, your fingers fiddling with your backpack straps. A few people look at you and Deacon, dressed in your uniforms and carrying tactical backpacks.
“You alright?” he asks quietly, concern in his brown eyes.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just tired, a little nervous.”
“Well, as soon as you’re sitting in a row between Street and Hondo with no escape, you’ll feel worse.”
You laugh, and Deacon smiles, glad he was able to distract you if only for a moment.
“Nervous about the flight?” he asks.
“No,” you begin.
“Deac!” Luca yells, cutting you off as he says your name and tosses his arm over you. “Morning, guys.”
Deacon’s eyes stay on you, but you send him a small smile and a nod to let him know you’re alright. Luca drags you and Street along as he talks and walks simultaneously, one arm over each of you until he reaches the security line.
“IDs,” the TSA agent says, holding a hand toward your team.
You let Street, Luca, and Tan go first, hanging back with Deacon and Hondo until your turn. As you walk through the metal detector, the female TSA agent on the other side asks you to step to the side for additional screening.
“Ooh, someone’s been bad,” Hondo taunts as he walks past.
Deacon keeps his eyes on you as he grabs his backpack from the conveyor belt, pulling yours to his side as he waits for you.
“Never fails,” you tell him, smiling as you take your bag. “Apparently I look like a terrorist.”
Deacon rolls his eyes, gesturing for you to walk by. When you turn the corner, Hondo puts his hands up in surrender.
“Do you feel violated?” Street asks dramatically.
“Should we tell Hicks about how a government official had to search you for…” Luca lowers his voice to finish, “weapons.”
“Right now, you’re the only people who should be afraid of me,” you answer with a cheerful smile.
They look at Deacon for help, but he shrugs and mutters, “You started it.”
“Dad,” Tan and Street groan together.
Deacon shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looks at you as if asking, ‘Can you believe what I have to deal with?’
“Who has the boarding passes?” Tan asks.
Hondo raises his hand, digging into his backpack before pulling an envelope out. He looks at the names one each before handing them out. Deacon looks over at yours with furrowed brows.
“What row you on, Hondo?” he asks.
“Six,” Hondo replies. “Exit row with extra leg room. Hicks pulled through.”
“Me too,” Street, Luca, and Tan answer.
Deacon looks over at you with his head tilted.
“What?” you ask.
“Did you ask to be that far away from us?” His eyebrows raise as he chuckles.
“Where are you?” Street asks, pointing toward you with his chin.
“Seventeen.”
Hondo’s eyes widen, shocked at the idea of sitting so far back in the plane.
“We can ask someone to switch,” Deacon tells you.
“No, it’s completely fine. You guys can… enjoy yourselves.”
Deacon starts to argue, but he’s cut short by an announcement.
“Flight 1239 with service to Washington DC has been delayed. Remain at the gate for further updates,” someone says over the speaker.
Hondo nods as if he expected as much before falling back into a seat. Luca, Street, and Tan follow his lead and get comfortable.
You remain standing, tapping your foot to dispel some nervous energy. After thirty minutes with no updates, you sit beside Deacon and lean toward him, pushing your shoulder against his. He doesn’t mind; he invites your presence at his side.
“Flight 1239 to Washington DC will begin boarding in ten minutes.”
Several people cheer, and Hondo stretches before standing. He sees how close you are to Deacon but only raises his eyebrows, a knowing look in his eye even as you shake your head.
Because you’re sitting further back, you board after the guys and have to ignore their comments as you walk past them on the plane. When you’re in your seat, you settle in and start reading, hoping to distract yourself from your racing thoughts.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Good morning, folks, this is your pilot speaking. Sorry about that boarding delay, but we’re going to get you in the air and to DC in just about four and a half hours,” the pilot announces. “Now, I do hear that we have some of LA’s finest on board. A soon to be decorated S.W.A.T. team, so on behalf of Los Angeles, thank you for keeping us safe on the ground, and let us return the favor in the air.”
Several passengers clap, and you smile as one of the flight attendants speaks to you on his way down the aisle. The man across the aisle introduces himself, thanking you for your service as he shakes your hand. You nod and return to your book, grateful for the sound of takeoff drowning out the voices of people talking about the cops on board.
✯✯✯✯✯
“No way, DC would be the first to go,” Street argues.
“Los Angeles always gets taken out first,” Tan adds. “Haven’t you watched a movie?”
“DC is just a bigger target. It’s not first, but it’s more important,” Luca says, leaning forward to join the conversation about the argument.
“In Independence Day, LA is gone long before they even think of DC.”
Deacon closes his eyes, tilting his head back against the headrest. He’s been listening to a different version of the same argument since boarding. They started talking about fighter jets, which turned to fighting aliens. Now, the argument is about which cities aliens would take out first to dominate the world.
“First class,” Hondo says wistfully before putting his earbuds in.
When Tan starts ranting about how aliens don’t have to come from the sky, Deacon decides he’s had enough. He stands, stepping around Luca before walking down the centre aisle. Several people nod at him, while others keep their heads down. When he reaches your row, he stops beside you until you look up at him, your finger holding your place in your book.
“Hey,” you greet.
“Is that seat empty?” Deacon asks, pointing to the one between you and the woman in the window seat. You nod, and Deacon mutters, “Not anymore.”
He steps over your legs and sits beside you, taking a deep breath as he revels in the quiet away from Street, Tan, and Luca.
“Tired of alien invasion debates?” you ask quietly, turning your attention to the cover of your book.
“You can hear it back here?” he asks incredulously.
“No, but word travels fast when tactically trained police officers are discussing alien movies.”
Deacon nods, looking out the window. You start reading again, sitting upright in your own space, despite Deacon’s arm on the armrest between you. Initiating contact with Deacon has never been a problem for you, and he likes that you trust him enough to be vulnerable and comfortable with him. Your attention is easily drawn away from what you’re doing, which is another unusual thing for you.
“Are you okay?” he whispers, leaning toward you.
You nod, but your harsh swallow tells a different story.
“You can talk to me, you know that.”
“I’m really nervous,” you admit.
“Flying?”
You shake your head, leaning forward to put your book in your backpack. When you sit back up, Deacon takes your hand between his.
“Then what’s going on?”
“The award,” you begin, looking at his hands. “I don’t deserve it. That raid was successful because of you guys, not me.”
“Hey,” Deacon says, using a kind hand to direct your face toward his. “We’re a team, and we did that as a team. Together. Every one of us, including you, deserves this award because we saved lives.”
“You saved lives. That little girl would have died without you.”
“And I couldn't have saved her without you,” Deacon reminds you. “We were under attack, and you kept us out of harm’s way. You deserve this, just as much if not more, than the rest of us.”
You nod, turning your head away from Deacon to rest against his shoulder. He pulls your arm over him, encouraging you to get comfortable. Deacon is a comforting person to be around, but being this close provides a feeling that you can’t get anywhere else.
“Thank you,” you whisper, gently holding his wrist.
“In an alien movie, they’d kiss after she saved his life,” Street says, sitting on his knees to watch you and Deacon.
Luca and Tan nod their agreement before turning back in their seats. They’ve witnessed several quiet, tender moments between you and Deacon, but don’t know where they lead. Hondo has advised them to mind their business, but that isn’t as much fun.
✯✯✯✯✯
The flight attendant who spoke to you right after learning you are a police officer seems to enjoy visiting your row. Every time he walks down the middle aisle, he stops to ask if you need anything or talk to you about your job. Since Deacon moved to your side, it has happened several times. He’s just as tired of it as you are.
Still comfortable in Deacon’s arms, you sigh against his shoulder when you hear him walk by again.
“Can I get you two anything?” he asks.
“No, we’re good, thanks,” Deacon answers, polite but firm.
You tighten your grip on his arm in thanks, glad to not have to speak or move. Your nervousness is seeping out as if Deacon is absorbing it and pumping comfort and peace back into you. It seems impossible to be upset around Deacon, especially when your source of discomfort is of your own making.
“I think he likes you,” Deacon whispers against your hair. “Which should be enough evidence that you don’t look like a terrorist.”
You laugh against Deacon, not expecting him to bring that up again. His shoulder shakes under you as he laughs too.
“The seatbelt sign has been turned on for your final descent into Washington DC. Flight attendants prepare for landing," the pilot says.
“Oh no, now your friend can’t visit,” Deacon says, smiling as you sit up.
“You’re my friend,” you reply, matching his smile. “Thank you for everything, Deacon. Seriously, I couldn’t do all of this without you.”
“I love to do it.”
✯✯✯✯✯
Once you land in Washington, someone hands Hondo an envelope with your return tickets. He opens them quickly, crossing his fingers that they’re first class.
“Two. Two of them are first class and the others are the first exit row again,” he says.
“Give ‘em to the lovebirds!” Luca yells.
Street and Tan nod before clapping in your direction. You turn toward Deacon and press your face against his shoulder.
“How am I going to survive this weekend?” you mumble.
“With me,” Deacon answers, a gentle hand on your lower back.
✯✯✯✯✯
Being the only woman on the trip, Hicks reserved a room just for you. Someone knocks once you’re dressed, ready, and growing nervous again. Deacon’s eyes widen as you open the door.
“You look beautiful,” he says, walking in. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Thank you. You look just as handsome as always. And, mostly; I’m a little nervous but I’ll be alright.”
“We’re with you the whole time,” Deacon reminds you. “Do you want to do anything specific when we’re finished?”
You shrug. “Some sightseeing, I guess. I don’t really have anything specific I have to see.”
“There’s one place I think you’d really like. If you’re interested, we could go together. Then do some sightseeing.”
Without hesitation, you agree to spend the remainder of your time with Deacon. He’s been at your side through the good and bad, and you’re happiest when he’s there.
✯✯✯✯✯
“We’re going food truck hunting, want to join?” Luca asks, loosening his tie.
“Maybe later. I’ll call when we’re done and we can meet somewhere,” Deacon answers, slipping his hand into yours.
“I see,” Luca says, smiling at your joined hands. “It is the city of love.”
“That’s Paris,” Tan says.
“It can be anywhere,” Street says through his teeth, gesturing toward you and Deacon.
“Oh! Yeah, love… it’s everywhere,” Tan corrects.
Deacon fights an eye roll, waving as he leads you away from 20-David.
“Where’s Hondo?” you ask.
Deacon shrugs. “Who knows. Nichelle probably gave him a list of things to see.”
“And what are we seeing?”
“You’ll find out.”
✯✯✯✯✯
The Georgetown Historical District is beautiful, and as you explore the cobblestone roads hand-in-hand with Deacon, there’s an overwhelming sense of home. At the end of a particularly appealing garden, Deacon pulls you to a stop, turning you against his chest.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
“For what?” you ask, raising your free hand to rest on his shoulder.
“Reminding me what it’s like to feel this.”
You know what he means, or you hope you do. Nodding, you lean closer to him.
“This is what you make me feel. You’re home, even in the middle of the desert or the beginning of a shootout. Wherever you are, there’s calm, there’s peace, and there’s a beautiful woman who’s impossible not to love.”
Your smile grows with each word, and you duck your head under Deacon’s chin when he finishes. Looking back up, you see the reflection of the street behind you in his eyes, but there’s also so much more.
“I love you, Deacon. You’ve been my comfort since joining 20-David, and any minute spent away from you feels like an eternity.”
Deacon smiles, his eyes shining like a porch light leading you home after a long time away. He releases your hand to grip your waist, pulling you closer as his lips meet yours. Moving with Deacon, you hold his shoulders as you keep him close, letting his kiss and presence speak to you like they always have. Pulling away, you cup Deacon’s jaw.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
“I love you. I didn’t say it back before.”
“You didn’t have to,” you point out, pulling him close again.
✯✯✯✯✯
“You kissed,” Hondo accuses as soon as you reach his side.
“Is that a problem?” Deacon asks.
“It is a huge relief, brother. Congratulations.”
He taps Deacon’s back before pulling you into a quick hug.
“I’ll expect to be the best man, right?”
Deacon presses his lips together and looks at you, smiling when you laugh.
“Hey, sorry we’re late, got caught up at this amazing custard truck,” Luca apologizes as he arrives.
Street looks at you, then Deacon, then your joined hands. He closes his eyes and raises a fist in victory. Tan smiles as he nods at you. Luca remains oblivious as he talks about Wisconsin-style custard and chicken sandwiches.
“But what did you guys do?” he finishes.
“Something we should have done before,” Deacon answers.
Luca furrows his brows, and Street claps his back before saying, “You were right. We’re gonna give the first-class tickets to the lovebirds.”
Luca’s eyes widen in surprise, but before he can congratulate you Hondo exclaims, “Whoa, now, they were good in coach.”
Bonus (because I love Deacon and Hicks' friendship):
"Commander, we wanted to discuss inter-team relationships," you begin.
Hicks raises a hand to silence you, looking toward Deacon.
"You finally did something?" he asks.
Deacon nods and Hicks smiles, bringing him into a hug and extending an arm to let you join them.
"About time!" Hicks cheers with a pleased chuckle.
#david deacon kay x reader#david kay x reader#deacon kay x reader#david deacon kay#deacon kay#swat cbs#fem!reader
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I love your take on how Peter Parker would mesh into the DC Universe, especially as the guy that the Forever People and New Gods gravitate towards. When it comes to Spidey getting tossed into cosmic level threats, such as the original '84 Secret Wars miniseries, he's usually the designated "guy everybody underestimates" because even though Peter is a street-level hero by choice, he can punch SIGNIFICANTLY above his weight class. Like taking on "They can smack The Hulk around" heavyweights. Not only that, but he's a scientific genius who can rub shoulders with the likes of Tony Stark and Reed Richards, in spite of being this dorky, wisecracking wallcrawler.
His whole thing is that when he's around other heroes, because Peter is so secretive about his secret identity, others tend to make wild assumptions about him that Peter never bothers to correct them about, because he is just that short of being Batman-levels of paranoid about his secret identity being uncovered and having it or his loved ones used against him. He's ALSO the one who believes the best in everybody, regardless of what they might think of themselves. He holds his peers to a certain standard, so when they betray that standard, and betray their fellow heroes, THAT'S when Peter gets pissed, and you have moments where he solos like... the ENTIRE X-Men team or something to that effect.
It's why Wolverine, despite being an extraordinarily violent individual, considers Spidey a friend, because Peter genuinely believes that Logan can be so much better than he believes himself to be.
He's like this hodgepodge of Billy Batson, Dick Grayson, Jimmy Olsen, and Bruce Wayne all rolled into one wisecracking package.
I think it also helps that Spider-Man very easily slips into the role of someone who speaks out on behalf of those who are marginalized because, at his roots, he's from a very economically unstable background--he's usually having to negotiate his superheroism with a job that barely keeps a roof over his head, and I think one of the things that makes Spider-Man such a beloved and relatable characters is that, his connection to the world of superheroes doesn't actually protect him from the very mundane, everyday threats of existing in capitalism. He has to worry about keeping a roof over his head, he has to worry about keeping a roof over Aunt May's head, he has to hold MJ's hand while she sobs over community theater programs for local kids get shut down or how she didn't get that callback because even though she's immensely talented she, quote, 'doesn't have the right look.' So he's also this natural advocate of people who get passed over by life in ways all these Marvel heavy hitters don't even think of.
Captain America: Why didn't [Villain of the week] just do [very obvious Lawful Good solution]?
Spider-Man: Because No Child Left Behind shut down 5 different schools in his area, he's in a food desert, a drug arrest for a drug that is now legal is still on his record and actively affecting his hiring prospects, and during the decades you were on ice lawmakers have been steadily killing all the local and federal support programs and antitrust laws you enjoyed in the 40's.
Captain America: Ah. Yeah. That'll do it.
So I think the Forever People (and by extension, the Hairies), being kind of a love letter to counterculture themselves, would be a great team-up for Spidey. Again because they're technically aliens and lack a lot of Earth context, everything about our planet is amazing and new and groovy to them! I think it would be a good blend of characterization, again, with a Spider-Man who's definitely getting severely burnt out and struggling with the sustainability of being Spider-Man and existing as Peter Parker.
Jack Kirby's notes on the Hairies also definitely overlaps with his philosophies on the Forever People, so I'm definitely putting this in here:
Kirby is literally so passionate and insane. But I love the idea of a very exhausted and jaded Spider-Man putting it on himself to be a guide and protector for a polycule of mind-blowingly optimistic space-hippies and somehow healing in the process.

(This is the vision) (Also maybe Spidey gets to get fused into Infinity-Man with all of them at some point. Infini-Spidey. Working name.)
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