#no way it could go wrong

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Part 5

First, Previous

This is probably the segment you've all been waiting for. Hope it holds up to expectations! 1.1k words.

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Before Danny could ask any questions about what the big deal was, Dick nudged him. “Which do you want—curry or beef?”

“Can I try both?”

“Alfred loves to see people enjoy his food. Eat as much as you can, then take a few more bites.” Dick handed him one platter followed by another. Robin watched on as Danny scooped some of each onto his plate.

When the ghost pointed to the potatoes and patted his stomach, Danny made sure to grab a large scoop and took a bite of that first. It was heavenly.

He raised his second spoonful up to Robin as a thank you for the recommendation.

“The potatoes are my favorite, too,” commented Jason who must’ve seen.

That caused Danny to raise and eyebrow and flick his eyes to Robin again. “I can understand why; they’re to die for.”

Jazz choked back a laugh. “Now you’re just stealing Dick’s joke from earlier,” she said.

“What can I say? It was a good one.”

Dick clucked his tongue. “Jason’s the same way. I don’t get how you can joke about almost dying.”

Danny tried the curry and shrugged. “This is so good. And I dunno, death jokes are super common in Amity. What else are you supposed to do when surrounded by ghosts?”

Dick just shook his head. “Well, if you say so. Now, here, try this, too,” he said as he scooped more food onto Danny’s plate.

Danny did so obediently and the conversation moved to lighter topics.

When he was mostly done with his plate, Robin decided it would be a great time to sit down on the table between him and Jazz. He stared at Danny and pointed to himself then raised an eyebrow. “When help me?” he mouthed.

“Jazz, I hope you’re well rested because I keep remembering more things I need to tell you about tonight after dinner.” On the last words, he made eye contact with Robin.

Who was not happy at all with his response. He stood on the table and seemed to grow in size. “Now,” he mouthed, foot stomp included. Angry-frustrated pulses filled the space.

“Danny?” asked Jazz.

Damn, he’d completely missed her reply. “Um, sorry Jazz, I got a work message earlier and I’m a bit distracted. Could you repeat that?”

Her eyes narrowed. She was totally onto him. “Something is up with you tonight.”

“Who me?” he rubbed the back of his neck and put on his innocent grin, the one that never worked on her. Flicking his eyes to Robin, he asked, “Why?” hoping that Jazz would take it as directed to her.

She stared at him a moment longer before turning back to Jason and pointedly ignoring Danny. Robin also moved until he was next to Jason, their faces side-by-side.

Then he removed his domino mask to show bright blue eyes, the exact color of Jason’s.

“Well fuck.” No way could he keep silent after that reveal.

The rest of the table fell silent and Bruce looked concerned. “Is everything all right, Danny?” he asked

Robin flew over to Bruce next and held two fingers to either side of his head and wiggled them.

“Well, double fuck.” Danny let his head bang on the table and cursed under his breath in Sumerian.

Dick touched his shoulder. “What’s wrong?” The concern was clear in his voice.

“Danny?” demanded Jazz.

Danny sat up and looked longingly at the remaining food on his plate before pushing away from the table and holding up his PDA and bag. “I’m sorry, I have to excuse myself for a few minutes. An important work thing.”

“Really, Danny? Can’t it wait?” asked Jazz.

“No. It really can’t.”

“Will you at least be quick?” she tried.

Danny sighed. “This’ll probably take ages to sort out in full. But the first part should only take a few minutes.” He looked over the rest of the table and bit his lip. He should tell them something, but where to even begin? And it’s not like Robin, Jason?, whatever, wouldn’t spill the beans as soon as he was able. So he just turned and let the room, Robin right on his heels.

“How far away from Jason, er, from your living self, can you get?” he asked quietly as soon as he felt like they were out of immediate earshot.

Robin flew a few feet down the hall and around corner. They were only just out of sight of the doorway and well within shouting range. In fact, he could still hear the sounds of conversation, even if exact words were difficult to make out.

Robin floated before him, no longer smiling, and held out a hand.

Danny stared at it a moment before grabbing it and pulling Robin into a hug. The ghost felt so insubstantial in his arms, like a wisp of silk or an underinflated balloon. Without thought, he transformed and surrounded Robin more securely in his aura.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t visit sooner,” whispered Danny. “I’m sorry I didn’t know about you until now.”

There was a tug on his core. Robin was trying to take some of his power. Danny pushed as well, giving it willingly. In his arms, Robin grew more solid.

With Robin’s increased corporeality, Danny became aware the boy was shaking. He chirped an I’m here, you’re safe message.

Robin trilled his thanks and nerves.

Before Danny could ask what Robin wanted to do next, they were startled apart by a loud crash and the sound of breaking glass and china and a voice shouting, “What the fuck?”

In the hallway, in perfect view of Danny and Robin, stood Alfred and Duke. A dropped tray and shattered dishes decorated the floor at Alfred’s feet and Duke had barely kept hold of his own tray and was half turned away but squinting at Danny and Robin like they were painful to look at.

Shouted questions and running footsteps echoed from the dining room and then everyone else was there, too.

Danny ignored everyone, focusing on Jazz who was staring at him in pure terror. Before he could assure her it would be all right, she was moving, ducking under arms until she was in front of him.

She fell into a fighting stance and pulled out a fenton staff. With the press of a button, it powered on, glowing like a double-sided light saber in her hands. “If any of you try to turn in my brother or hurt him, I will end you.”

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Next

Tag list!

@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew, @rowanaway-fromthisbs, @vythika96, @tired-yet-awaken, @themirrorghost, @emeraldcorpral, @all-mights-asscheeks, @darkhinauniverse, @blep-23, @phandomhyperfixationblog, @larkcoe1, @thegatorsgoose, @job-ross-the-second, @britcision, @lenacraft, @bubblemixer, @androgynouslordofescapism, @purefrickingspite, @leftmiraclechaos, @lizisipancardo, @starlight-sparks, @miraculousandmore, @gildedphoenix, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @letmesayfuxk, @phoenixcatch7, @skulld3mort-1fan, @abaowo, @dhampir-princess, @idkmrpianoman, @sarina-elais, @ballzfrog-blog, @undead-essence, @spookytragedyshark, @flyingpansaurus, @akintoabitch, @marivictal, @8-29pm

[theiliad]

making this one binary. no ghost agnosticism allowed. but explain the nuances in the tags if you want.

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[equill]

Job promotion (now what?)

Comic 1: Interrogation

Caught him lurking in the background (he was being suspicious in their defense)

Comic 2: Everywhere you go.

[puppyeared]

act 4 :(

@chipper-smol and i came to a realization

[voiider]

I need codependent Danny/Jason as a little treat (for me) and I love the idea of them having some sort of instant connection the moment they meet (bc ghost stuff idk)

Danny who's been dropped in Gotham with no way home (alt universe??) and he's been here for 36 hours and having a Very bad time senses a liminal being and immediately latches onto them heedless of the fact that his new best friend is shooting at some seedy guys in an alley and goes off about how stressed he is and how he can't make it back to the ghost zone and what a bad day he's been having (and it's important to note Danny is a littol ghost boy literally hanging off of Jason's neck as he floats aimlessly) and Jason is like "who are you??" And Danny is like "oh sorry I'm Danny lol" and then just continues lamenting his woes

And honestly ? This might as well happen. Nothing about this Danny guy(is he human?) gives Jason a bad vibe and tbh he's never felt more calm and level headed before so he just keeps up his usual Red Hood patrol and doesn't even think about it when he heads back to a safehouse and feeds Danny dinner (breakfast) before crashing for half the day

The only thing I actually need is Jason meeting up with the bats for some sort of Intel meeting and they're like "uhhh who's that" and Jason is like "that's Danny." And does not elaborate (very ".... What do you have there?" "A smoothie" vibes)

And it takes them a while to realize that these two have known each other for less than 12 hours and are literally attached at the hip

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

🙃?

[rystiel]

i feel like poolverine easily could’ve been one of those “they’re flirty but it’s mostly unserious” situations, and for most of the movie yeah they were extremely gay, but wade’s been like that with other guys and it was never treated as a serious type of relationship before. they’re willing to die for each other, but even then the romantic aspect of their relationship could be glossed over because it’s a superhero movie, that’s just what they do, and they’re working together to save a whole timeline—it’s not just about them. but then the movie doesn’t end with them saving the day and moving on. i think this’s really the part that sells poolverine as a genuine relationship to me… logan’s leaving, and wade calls for him. he can’t stand to let him go. then he introduces him to his family, and logan stays. he doesn’t really need to stay, but they’ve both decided they’re better off with one another than without

[ganondoodle]

one of the requests/suggestions i got :3 (demise + cats)

still struggeling with drawing anything (depression yippie) but trying my best anyway

[saturdaysky]

a little divine appreciation

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God Gale is endgame for Mayhew, and Mayhew couldn't be more pleased 😌

their mutual wizard disease brought them to some pretty low lows, but hey, ignore the tragedy, they're gods now! first order of business is a little worshiping at the altar 😏

Here's the sketch, which I also like:

Got majorly inspired by these lovely photos, one of which I used as a pose reference.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

True love is possible only in the next world. For new people. It it too late for us.

(Redraw for @pakhnokh's DTIYS post!)

[utilitycaster]

I definitely need to observe this more but I feel like in a lot of actual play or adjacent (ie, sf podcast) fandoms there's like. a particular fan mindset that takes almost every action from secondary characters in the worst faith possible with the exception of villainous/deeply morally ambiguous characters, and so you get people who will assume everyone is out to get the protagonists EXCEPT for the person who has shot at them 20 times while kicking a puppy; that person is misunderstood and deserved a redemption arc.

[serpentface]

This was going to be a panel of a little comic but I got too invested in drawing minute background details so, here.

[nomoretumbler]

new lab partner!

alt version

[jasperthejester]

me: finally accepting theres a good chance im autistic and starting to work up the courage to ask my parents to see if i could get a diagnoses but being scared to

my mom: do you ever think you have adhd? if you want to do a screening for add next time your at the doctors you can

me:

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[OLD ART ALERT] A COLLECTION OF SCENES FROM THE GILLIONS CATSCRATCH ARC THAT BROUGHT ME GREAT JOY. i love fishy chips especially when its just gillion being delirious and violent and hostile