#prompt: “let them go”

[serickswrites]

You Can Beg

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, knife, blood, self sacrifice

"No! Please, don't hurt me!" Smallest Teammate screeched as Whumper grabbed their wrists, pulling them to the front of the group. "PLEASE!"

Whumper grabbed Smallest Teammate's hair, bowing their neck back. "Oh, darling little thing, surely you can do better than that. You can beg better than that, I just know it."

"PLEASE!" Smallest Teammate repeated as tears tracked down their cheeks. They eyed the knife that Whumper waved above their head. "PLEASE!"

"Tsk tsk tsk," Whumper clucked with their tongue, "guess you can't do any better. Such a shame. I like my toys to have a little more spunk."

As Whumper raised the knife to Smallest Teammate's throat once more and Smallest Teammate began to sob harder and harder, Team Leader shouted, "I have more spunk! Let them go! Torture me! Just let them go! PLEASE!"

Whumper looked into Smallest Teammate's eyes with a smile. "See, that's what I'm talking about." They released Smallest Teammate's hair, shoving Smallest Teammate to the ground. "Took you long enough to speak up, Team Leader."

Team Leader only stared at Whumper, never breaking eye contact as they spoke. "Let Smallest Teammate go. You can do whatever you want to me. Just let them go."

Whumper considered a moment. "No. Ah ah ah, Team Leader," Whumper said as they pressed the knife to Team Leader's lips. "I won't hurt them. But I want to be sure they get a front row seat to what you saved them from. It's the right thing to do, after all."

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@pepeniascat @artisticdemon @acer-whumpstuff

[quuuueto]

- I treasure my puzzle

- And I treasure us!

[whump-in-the-closet]

characters who’s identity revolves around their purpose, defined by something or someone else. By the prophecies, by their service; the lapdog, the weapon, the chosen one. And then there’s a moment of softness, a complete breach and utterly human— they cradle their head in their hands, they bend to pick up a cat and hold it tight, they slump against someone’s shoulder, completely trusting for the first time

thank you that’s it. exits stage and screams.

[mischievous-thunder]

It's only the Deadpool Prime for our Precious Logie Badger

[confessedlyfannish]

Writing Prompt #12

Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.

Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.

Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.

While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.

These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".

There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—

"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.

But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.

He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.

"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.

"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.

"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.

He doesn't look away from the man.

"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."

"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.

The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.

The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"

Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."

"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."

He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.

"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.

"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.

"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."

"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.

"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."

"Him."

"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."

"Why me?"

"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."

This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.

"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"

"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."

Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."

"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."

"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."

"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."

"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."

"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.

"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.

"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."

"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."

"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."

Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.

Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.

"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."

The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.

"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.

"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."

"I have more than one."

"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."

"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"

There is a pause.

"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."

"Resolve what?"

"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."

"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."

Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."

The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."

"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."

"They will have already muzzled him."

Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.

"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."

"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—

Clack!

"sluuuuurp!"

"Master Timothy, honestly!"

"Sorry Alfred!"

[puppetmaster13u]

Who wants a prompt entirely in memes.

[aeolianblues]

I don't like that the dev community picks on people who are most fluent in Python, when the ChatGPT-using "vibe coders" are right there. At least Python babies are coding. Bully the non-coders instead.

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

~{Heyyyy, So here you freaky little gremlins go!}~

•LightHouse•

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

The Bats noised something..strange, there are packages going to and from Gotham and usually this wouldn’t have concerned them too much.

They knew that they have been labeled “Paranoid and overly cautious” They are, they are just delusional but they knew when something’s dangerous and when something not, But what concern them was what they found inside after Black Bat intersected one of the deliveries what was inside made all of their blood run cold.

About ten vials filled to the brim with the cleanest and purest Lazarus that any of them have ever seen, and of course this caused the Bats to go into a frenzy trying to see where this stuff came from.

And after a few days, They found a link to a lighthouse on a rock in the middle of nowhere and they have nothing to do with the LOA (Trust the bats checked) but they had to know where the Lazarus water was coming from and as luck would have it the lighthouse was looking for two extra hands to help out.

[In the middle of nowhere in a clockwork a purple hooded being is siping tea and cackling]

So when the bats had a meeting on who would go Tim and Jason both were the best options as Jason could trust his lieutenants to keep the ally in cheek while he was gone, and with Damien they could say that he was in his home country visiting his mother so it was decided that the two of them would be the ones to go without much argument.

Now Damian and Jason well now Argo and Dion were on a bout going through the cold sea on there way to the lighthouse to find out it’s mysterious.

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Background•

When Clockwork had let Dan out of that damned thermos he was expecting..something but not this.

The Danny of this world in front of him, covered in blood and ecto quickly Fading while a newly ghosted Jazz is next to him also covered in blood and ecto use her new and unstable power to hold Danny’s fucking core from breaking in two.

And Dan was reminded of that day and suddenly he was next to Jazz holding Danny’s core together with his hands while jazz passes out and he ends up using her power to made a makeshift bandage on the core that will hold for a bit and only when he is sure that it will hold.

Dan then feels another ghost in the room and it turns out to be Clockwork and Dan goes off on the man asking him how this happened under his watch and why did he let Dan out.

Clockwork than explains that as Jazz was getting ready to leave for college she and Danny had decided it was time for them to tell the Fentons what Danny was and the Fentons did not take it well they had immediately knocked out Jazz and Danny and gave the both of them over to the G.I.W and they only just got out of there after the G.I.W killed Jazz.

And of course Dan asks why let him out if Jazz and Danny were like this and Clockwork says that he is the last person who is able to look over Danny and Jazz who Clockwork is sure can protect them and that Clockwork had already set up a place for Dan to take care of the two in peace and quiet.

And as Dan looks at the two of them, broken and tired all he can say is.

“When do I start?”

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Little Facts•

•When clockwork teleports Dan, Jazz and Danny to the lighthouse he de-ages Jazz and Danny to 10 and 8

•When Damien and Jason get there and see the buff tall man, Jason is going to get a nose bleed if you know what I mean

•Both Danny and Jazz are dressed like victorian children 

•Dan is putting up with Clockwork at most and the way he talks about him makes to so ✨Misunderstandings✨ happen

•Clockwork will just randomly leave gifts for Jazz and Danny and sometimes Dan in their room or somewhere on the rock where the lighthouse is

•Jazz has a thick pale green coat and Danny has a matching pale blue one, I would have pics of it but there is a picture limit so just use your imagination on this one

•The first time Jazz sees the two she is psychoanalyzing them so fast

•Danny is just a sweet mischievous bean in this one

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Appearances•

Dan-

You can change the outfit but this is the best one I could find for this so.

Jazz-

Suit and dress version!

Danny-

Suit and dress version!

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

~{And that’s it! I know this isn’t the best but I am very sleepy so hope you gremlins enjoy, byeeee}~

[aashidoodles]

shiguang cosplaying as a couple at a con

Thanks for the prompt! 🦇

[lightgamble]

DAREDEVIL: BORN AGAIN | 1.09

You know, back at his place, I heard your heartbeats.

[wildstar25]

MiqoMarch Day 10 - Promise

"'Promises are what keep us together.' That's what you said once, yeah? Then let these rings show our promise: To love each other till our dying breaths."

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 185

No one could get into contact with Constantine. 

Now usually that wasn’t that big of a deal, the man constantly disappeared for a few days at a time doing something or other, but he’d been completely silent and unseen for months. Usually he’ll at least answer a call to tell them to fuck off or something. 

And they really need his expertise and are getting incredibly worried for their grumpy team member. Yes he’s an asshole, but he’s their asshole, y’know? And he has a habit of getting into Situations (sure he also usually gets out of them, but what if he didn’t this time?!) 

So they’re desperate. Kind of really desperate. Desperate enough to use the summoning sigil they found on his fridge. They’d checked it, multiple times, and it should summon the hellblazer. 

“You’re not Constantine.” . 

The white-haired teen in the circle yawned, stretching and blinking at them blandly with familiar blue eyes before sighing. “Actually I am,” he stuffed his hands into his hoodie as he looked down at the summoning circle. “Well, technically just one of the many Laughing Magicians currently in the Realms.” 

He gave a grin, looking more amused than annoyed. “Pretty much every one of us is in the Realms right now for family reunion lol. (Did he just say lol out loud??) So like, you’re gonna have to specify which of us you’re tryin’ to summon. Honestly perfect timing for me thanks, the fruitloop keeps flirting with John and it’s horrific so.” 

… That was probably their John, wasn’t it…

[starry-bi-sky]

MMMM twins au with danny and dan except its og TUE timeline danny and dan

ok okay i neeeeed o write this down and share it before i explode buT. as the title says. twins danny and dan (who im going to be calling James/Jamie bc i cannot express how much i despise the name dan) where, instead of disappearing into the ghost zone after he's separated from danny's body, Dan rips out Vlad's ghost half, tears THAT in half, and fuses one half with himself and the other with Danny.

Shit happens, and BOOM. Two morally ambiguous and perhaps slightly murderous demonic twins from hell. Daniel James Fenton and his Twin WHose Always Been Here What Are You Talking About :) James Daniel Fenton. They are both depressed, lonely, and one bad day from becoming a mass extinction event :)

this is because i got grabbed by the hair today and dragged into the SVSS fandom screaming and the fanart of Shen Jiu/Shen Yuan/Shen Quingqiu (????) with his fan entranced me. Ice Prince Core is my favorite thing so naturally i have to implant that onto my favorite blorbos ever :)

After the Incident, both their appearances changed and they're practically identical to each other. Sorta. They both have heterochromia and salt-and-pepper hair. But Danny has one green eye and one blue eye and white hair with black streaks, while Jamie has one blue eye and one green eye and black hair with white streaks. I'm iving them both long hair, for funsies <3

nobody can tell them apart, they keep getting confused on whose who and frankly the mix-match hair and eyes make it worse not better asjd. they're horrifically codependent. please do not separate :)

and because i must. im pulling a blood blossom/tales of the passerine and giving them to pre-robin batman. batman and his terrifying demon(??) twins. nobody is quite sure if they're human or not, and the scourge of gotham are a little too terrified to ask.

(they dont HAVE to go to batman while he's pre-robin. however. i think its much funnier that way bc gotham isn't use to A) Batman having kids, and B) Batman having TERRIFYING kids yet. think of all the new fun rumors)

they both use war fans while they're out, and neither of them use their ghost forms because they at least have the remaining empathy to know that they're more likely to murder someone accidentally as a ghost :). Ghost form is for fellow mythicals and Functionally Immortals Only! Not for Squishy Humans.

Jamie: murder. bloodshed. revengggee Bruce: no. no. Justice. peace!! hope! Danny: bittinngggg. blooood. ^-^

They're honestly not bad kids they're just horrifically traumatized two halves of a whole that can never be reunited ever again :).

idk what their vigilante names are but i do know that the underground refer to them in horrified whispers as 'the twins'. this all stemmed from the desperate and sudden urge to see Danny and Jamie, as their vigilante selves, hiding the lower half of their faces with fans and looking terrifyingly judgmental while they do it <333

[the-witchhunter]

You know those video games where the character has to complete puzzles and work through their trauma to escape/wake up/something? Obstacles getting in their way and being tied to their past as they delve more into their trauma and have to learn/heal from it before they can progress?

Danny has been around a loooong time. He's old, he's powerful, and has a space in the ghost zone that he controls much like a god. The ghosts have long since started leaving him alone, the ones he's friends with have their own affaires to deal with, and in his ever shifting labyrinthian layer he's too powerful, and even outside of it he can still kick their asses.

and he's without a purpose

His friends had long since passed on after leading long and wonderful lives with him, not even leaving a ghost behind. His Family as well. Jazz had never had children, and try as he and Sam might have, half dead as he was he couldn't have children. He had no one left and nothing to do, and all of eternity to do it in.

Thinking of Jazz is what made him do it the first time

She loved helping people with her psychology, and Danny decided to do it in his own way. It hadn't been pretty, and it hadn't been easy, but he had found his method. Some took to it better than others, and many had different theories about his lair and his motives, but he helped people move past their trauma. Some believed his lair was some kind of purgatory, and... they weren't totally off

So, when Danny moved on to the timeline of the DC multiverse, he had some experience under his belt

He just underestimated how much trauma superheroes can have

[chaosduckies]

Day 1: Discovery/Fire

Couldn't decide which list to use, so I might combine a few prompts from both lists depending on what I feel like writing. Anyways, enjoy a borrower au of Kieran and Devon (I'm not two days late no way)

Word Count: 3.2k

CW: None!

I crept up onto the counter, nearly out of breath but I knew I had to keep going. I had been too scared to get any food for the past few days, and the human that had just moved in here finally left the house. The guy seemed like a shut-in. When he wasn’t in the living room he was sitting at a desk messing with something. I was too scared to even take even the tiniest steps in the human’s bedroom. There was no telling what he’d do to me if I were to get caught! 

Though, what scared me the most was that this human was vigilant. I had managed to borrow some crackers one time and even placed the bag back where it had come from. He somehow noticed that it was out of place just by the tiniest piece and found it open. There were countless times after that too. So now he probably thinks that there were mice. Even though I’ve never seen him place down a mouse trap or even so much as complain about the possibility of there being mice. 

The human was strange, to say the least. Along with the concerning amount of what I was sure they called piercings, he was also extremely tall compared to other humans I’ve seen. He dressed in baggy clothes most of the time, sometimes just a regular shirt with a plaid coat over it along with some sweatpants. He only really went out of the house wearing a dark blue apron with a hat tucked slightly outside of the pocket. Sometimes he’d come back with bags full of fabric or groceries. Never too much though. There was one time he even came back with another piece of jewelry on his ear. It looked painful but I just couldn’t understand why someone would put themselves through pain just to look cool. 

Humans would always be interesting to me. I loved watching them work or sometimes if they left the television on I’d find a comfy spot to watch. Well, that’s what I did with the last one at least. This new one scared me half to death every time he just walked into a room. Made me too scared to leave the comforts of my home. Which was arguably not comfy in the slightest. Such is the life of a lone borrower just trying to make it out alive in this cruel world. 

With a reluctant groan, I stood up after catching my breath. I had no idea when they’d be back, so I’d have to be quick and make sure I cover up my tracks. He was already making me worried that he’d find out where or what I was. He’s only been here for two weeks and I might actually have to move on to the next house if he finds me. I just had to keep hoping that it would never happen. My borrowing skills weren’t top-tier, but I knew how to climb and what supplies I’d need. It was really the only thing you needed as a borrower. 

I sprinted behind the few objects I could. My eyes glanced at the door every other second before reaching the bowl of half-eaten fruit. I remember him yelling at something before putting on a jacket and slamming the bowl on the counter. Though, while I was watching it looked like he was about to place it back in the fridge. It was wide open before he just shrugged and placed it on the counter. For some reason, it bothered me, but I wasn’t about to pass up on a free meal just lying on the counter. It was rare that I could get my hands on fruits too. An even better reason why I couldn’t pass up on this opportunity. 

When I reached the bowl, I tossed my hook and made sure it was caught on the rim before climbing up and sliding along the wall of the bowl to grab one of the fruits. The sweet smells of grapes and strawberries hit me as my mouth watered. I don’t even remember the last time I had a grape before. I just know that they tasted like heaven. I carefully grabbed one that I thought he wouldn’t notice missing and cut the grape in half so it could fit better in my bag. It was a lot smaller compared to the others, but it was probably the only one I could grab for right now. I still had to get down from here. 

A sigh of relief escaped my lips before I looked up and grabbed the string. Another successful trip. Honestly, it was just getting harder and harder to survive at this point. I might actually have to resort to staying with my parents for a while if I was going to go to another house. They were a lot better at this than I was. Though, I was reluctant to since I was the one who decided it was time I moved out on my own. A year and a half later I’m still alive. That was an accomplishment. 

As soon as my feet hit the counter floor, I heard someone at the door. The lock turning. The nearly silent click as it creaked open. The tall and intimidating figure walked in holding a bag in his hand. My legs didn’t want to move. My body just screamed to run away though, but I was too petrified in fear. The human threw his jacket on a nearby couch and stared at the bag before rolling his eyes. Only then did my legs want to work again. I sprinted behind a knife rack, which wasn’t my best idea since now I was way too close to a weapon he could use against me, not that he’d need it if I were caught now. I reached for my bag strap, looking for something tight to hold onto to calm down my racing heart as he drew closer to the kitchen. Only to find that my bag was nowhere on my person. I looked down, gasping softly when I realized I never grabbed my bag when I put the grapes in. Meaning that it was still in the bowl. 

My heart skipped a beat at the realization, my breathing becoming more and more shallow as I tried my hardest to stay quiet. I clasped my hands over my mouth when he angrily set the bag on the counter just a few feet away from me. I prayed and prayed that he wouldn’t be bothered to check the bowl. Just had to hope he wouldn’t move it either. Was I really about to get caught now? Like this? I peeked out, fear taking a grip on me as he picked up the bowl and examined it. 

His usual stoic face for a brief moment was surprised. He saw my bag. He knew that there was someone else here. Though, I was expecting more of a reaction coming from someone who seemed to have a bit of an anger problem. They popped a strawberry piece in their mouth before plucking out my bag. I winced, watching him hold it up to his face and look around. There wasn’t any confusion showing on his face. Just… blank. Like this was just a usual Tuesday for him. My heartbeat rang through my ears before he glanced at my bag one more time and shoved it in one of his pockets and walked off with the bowl. 

As soon as he left the room my legs gave out on me. I fell to my knees and stared at my shaky hands. He knew I was here. Or at least that something was here. I’ve been discovered. What should I do? What could I even do? Things should be alright. Right? He didn’t seem to care all that much when he found my bag. He’s noticed a few things going missing and hasn’t done anything about it yet. Everything would be okay. I’d just make a new bag. He wouldn’t know. I’d be more careful. There was no reason to move out. 

I took a few deep breaths before grabbing my hook and making my way down the counter. My body somehow felt on fire and freezing at the same time. A cold sweat ran down my face as I hurried back into my home in the walls before he came back again. Almost on cue, a loud sound of thunder roared outside. I yelped quietly when the lights flickered for a brief moment, turning back on finally. It was like the world just wanted to make my life miserable. First basically being caught by this stupid human, and now I was hungry, terrified, and I couldn’t even go and get my bag back because this stupid human decided he was going to take it! It’s not like he’d care to give it back even if I pleaded with him for it. The sadistic giants practically fed off of weaker beings. That much I know of. I was obviously a prime target. Physically and mentally. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” The human grumbled as he walked into the kitchen. I flinched at the harshness of his voice and slid down the side of the wall, safely hidden from him. The raindrops banged against the house loudly. It was raining pretty hard. A loud crack of thunder rumbled the house, and soon it was all dark. I slowly peeked my head out, just barely able to see my own hands in front of my face. I wasn’t scared of the dark or the thunder. Honestly, it was easy getting used to most of the scary stuff. I could hear the soft and faint footsteps of the human running around the kitchen. He opened the drawers, hit something, and cursed under his breath when something wouldn’t work. I had no idea. To my surprise, he sounded panicked. 

“Stupid flashlight…” He threw it angrily back in the drawer. I flinched at the loud sound as he walked off again with something in his hands. I sucked in a deep breath to calm my nerves. I should get back home. Sure I was practically starving because I was stupid enough to not go borrowing for a few days, but that wasn’t about to get me in even more danger than I already was. 

As I was just about to make the journey back home, there was a bright light. It seemed to be moving somehow. I stared in awe as the orange hue grew brighter, ignoring the footsteps that grew closer. When I peeked my head out, I could now see the room around me. A few things were thrown around and many of the cabinets and drawers were lying open. Though, the light seemed to be coming from a circular stick that was lit up at the top. 

The human sighed with relief, digging in their pockets and pulling out my bag. I slightly gasped, staring and watching as they placed it by the strange circular object and left the room with cautious steps. Would I have enough time to grab it? I could climb pretty fast. It would only take a second.

I clenched my fists and gripped my hook, taking off. Who cared if the food in there was bad? He couldn’t have any proof that I existed. I doubted that he had anyone to tell, but maybe if I took it back he’d think he’s just going crazy or something. I smiled to myself, thinking that this could actually work. I expertly threw my hook as high as I could, nabbing it on a part of the counter and then throwing it up again. I lacked the strength to throw it up all the way, but I made up for it in speed. 

When I reached the top of the counter I couldn’t help but stare at the strange object and carefully approach it. I outstretched my hand, watching the small fire melt the material. It felt weird too. Not solid and glossy. A strange beige color tint to it. Though, it felt extremely smooth. My curiosity got the better of me. I flinched when the human came back, staring directly at the object-no- me. My eyes grew wide and my legs began to tremble. Neither of us moved. Almost like we were both too scared. My breathing became more and more ragged as we held a silent staring contest. One that I was going to lose. 

“Oh.” He muttered and finally put whatever the small black box he held in his pocket. Before he could do anything else I dashed for my hook, grabbing the string and climbing down faster than I ever had before. Though, not before I lost my rhythm and slipped. I wasn’t falling strange enough. My eyes were shut tight, a sharp pain stinging my ankle. When I opened my eyes, I found myself upside down, tangled in my own string. I panicked and started to try and kick myself free, trying to untangle my leg, tears streaming down my face. 

The human quietly and slowly walked over, crouching, and was now eye level with me. I whimpered, kicking and pulling on the string harder. The human just kept staring, a chuckle escaping his lips, “Let me help.” My eyes stared as one of his hands cupped underneath me, the other carefully taking my hook down. 

I yelped as I fell, hitting the soft and squishy surface underneath me. My heart raced a million miles per hour, rushing to get the string off of my ankle and pointing the sharp part of my paperclip toward him with shaky hands. 

His face was unchanging. The same tired look. Like he wasn’t amused by my struggling. It was a stupid idea to think that I could grab my bag before he came back. He was always so quick. I was never fast enough apparently. 

He sighed and stood up slowly, tilting his hand so I could fall on the counter. I wiped my tears and quickly pointed my paperclip at him, my hands so sweaty I would’ve probably dropped it if I swung. 

“Hm,” He turned towards the bag and picked it up carefully, holding it out for me, “Were you trying to get this?” I stared at my bag. Not even a scratch on it. It looked empty though. That was okay. As long as I could figure a way out of this. Maybe use the lack of light to my advantage? I stood up and continued to point my puny weapon at him while grabbing my bag. A chill ran down my spine, flinching when he retracted his hand and leaned against the counter, just studying me. 

Nothing was said between the two of us as I kept backing up, finally stopping before sprinting behind the strange lit-up object, pressing my back against it. Another roar of thunder shook the house, though I only focused on how the human sucked in a breath like he was scared of thunder. I winced when he stared back at the object, a frown forming on his lips. 

“If I was going to hurt you I would’ve done it by now. Besides,” I yelped when the fridge beside me opened and he came back around holding something in his hand, “Why do you think I’ve been leaving food out?” My heart skipped a beat. He… he knew I was here way before he found my bag. He’s been leaving food out for the past few days for me to grab. In an easy spot. Fast and easy to grab before he noticed. I knew something was wrong. Something just felt off. When did he figure it out? Did he somehow see me? Was he just that observant? So many questions and I knew I wasn’t going to get any answers. 

Tears pricked my eyes before seeing a small grape being offered to me. I stared, sniffling and cautiously inching forward to grab it. The paperclip was held tightly in my grip as I reached for the grape. Something in the corner of my vision moved, and I couldn’t help but grab the grape and stab the small needle as hard as I could into his skin. I hurried and pressed my back up against the object, wiping the tears. When I looked back, he was staring at the clip protruding out of his hand like it didn’t even hurt. I winced, holding on tightly to the food in my hands. If he wasn’t going to hurt me he definitely was now. Why did I have to react like that? That just messed up my own chance of survival! My breathing became hoarse and ragged before the paperclip was dropped next to me. I shuddered, glancing back out to see the same expression written all over his face. Did he not care? Was he hiding it so I couldn’t tell what he was going to do to me? I stared back at the food in my hands. Well, at least he was kind enough to give me something to eat. Like this would be my last meal. I took small bites, savoring every piece before my imminent demise. 

“Do you need help back down? Or would you rather stay by the candle?” I stopped chewing, staring at my injured ankle. Was he not angry with me? I wasn’t about to find out the real answer. 

I could probably climb back down myself if I wanted to. Though… without some kind of light, it was hard to see where I was going in the walls. That’s why I usually like to be back home before the sun sets. Obviously, that wasn’t going to happen. I stared up at the object that he called a candle, staring at the grape in my hands. Well… now I really doubted that he’d hurt me. I’ve been fed, and saved, and now he was offering to basically let me go. I wasn’t some idiot who thought he was some monster after all of that. 

I swallowed the piece I had in my mouth and peeked my head out, watching him pick at something on the counter annoyingly, “You’ll l-let me down whenever?” My voice cracked, but as long as he could hear me that was good enough. He focused his attention on me, "You’re not my prisoner or anything.” I sucked in a deep breath, “Then… I-I’ll stay here.” I returned to eating the grape he gave me, slightly smiling. I wasn’t going to die. That was a good thing. The human wasn’t going to force me to be his pet. Another plus. As long as I didn’t make him angry I think everything would be okay. Not that I’d like to make hanging out with the human a regular thing. It was too dangerous. 

“Hm,” He hummed playfully, “I feel like I have a right to know the name of the little thief who’s been stealing my things.” I cringed at the harshness of his voice, most likely unintentional, and peeked my head out, making eye contact for a split second before he smirked. Name? I think it’d be okay. If he’s been this nice to me so far why would he have a change of heart so fast? 

“Devon.” I nearly confidently spoke, my heart racing. Why was this so terrifying? It’s not like he could find out anything about me without me telling him. If he even wanted to know. I shook my head. Why would I want to become friends with a human who’s been so terrifying? 

“Kieran.” He whispered. 

Either way, this was definitely weird. Though, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a human friend. There was only one way to find out.

——————

(Throws another AU at you)

not my best writing but hey all of this was done at ungodly hours at night 🙏

Well it’s time I get back to writing and what’s better than gt July to do it for you? Most prompts will be tied to this AU, but if you have a certain scene you’d like me to write with a prompt please let me know!

G/t July Prompt lists: 1 and 2

Taglist: @da3dm @dav8530

(if you would like to be added or removed please let me know!)

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #58 Part 4

The living room and kitchen were deserted, neither Danny nor Jazz expected anyone as it was normal for their parents to essentially live in the basement only coming up for meals once or twice a month to ‘eat as a family’, these would consist mostly of fast food as no one trusted anything cooked in their kitchen.

They shared a glance as they opened the basement door and headed down. The dimly lit basement held the giant hole in the wall, the so-called portal, a massive metal spectacle with wires and interconnected circuitry met together to create an unholy abomination of science. Or at least that’s what Jazz called it once when they were in her room venting about the situation. 

“JAZZ!! DANNY!!” their overzealous father yelled as he bounded over.

Their mom walked over too, seeming to be happy for their return, “your father and I could barely contain our excitement all day!! Go on put on your hazmat suits.” their mom gestured over to the lockers that held the suits. Both of their parents' lockers tended to be quite empty since they practically lived in them, to the point where they had several copies of the same suits that they’d wash and reuse. Danny and Jazz only had the ones, Jazz had a nice dark violet color with black gloves and boots. Danny had black gloves and boots too but his was white to make it look like he was an astronaut, something that he had mixed feelings on. Both of these used to have a giant picture of Jack’s head on it but it was quickly removed by both siblings. 

They quickly put the suits on over their uniforms and joined their parents behind some glass near the portal. It wasn’t closed off or anything and Danny didn’t think it would be able to prevent something like an explosion from charing all of them but it’s hard to have faith in parents who've missed so much because of the stupid portal, or at least that’s how Danny felt. 

Jazz and Danny huddled together behind their parents as their mom did some final checks on a clipboard, “alrighty we should be all good, Hun you ready to throw the switch?” their mom asked their dad. “As ready as I’ll ever be!” Jack yelled as he threw down the switch.

…

A few sparks erupted from the portal but other than that nothing happened. 

Their dad, frustrated at this angrily tried turning it off and on again but nothing but another smaller spark and then truly nothing. 

Another low frustrated growl left their dad as he and mom walked back up the steps, “alright I’m taking a break.” Jack said, almost defeated, sounding, “I’m sorry but I really thought we had it this time.”

“Oh come on, Jack, let’s go out, I’m sure the kids were probably going over to the Wayne’s again anyways. Let’s go out and have a fun night then sleep on it.” their mom said, patting dad on the shoulder. They shared a fond look and then went upstairs probably to get ready. 

Danny and Jazz stood at the bottom of the stairs and shared a look.

“They gave up too fast again…” Jazz noted.

“I guess, what do we do now?” Danny asked.

“I’m still a little curious about the portal but I don’t want to keep Damian, Tim or Alfred waiting,” Jazz said with a hand on her cheek.

“We could invite them in, I know we haven’t before but maybe Tim would know how to get it working, he is pretty good with technology.” Danny reasoned. Neither of them really wanted to involve the Wayne’s in their family’s shenanigans but at this point they were all friends and Damian and Tim were bound to find out how weird their family was at some point anyways.

Jazz stood there seeming to think things over before she nodded, “alright I trust your judgment but we’ll have to be careful okay?” 

Danny smiled at her, “of course, what’s the worst that could happen?” 

This is what led to the four of them standing at the bottom of the stairs. Their parents had left about an hour ago. Danny and Jazz were still in their suits with Tim without one and made to sit with Jazz behind the glass and Damian and Danny planning to explore the actual tube.

“I don’t want to chance you getting hurt,” he said to her as he made her stand next to Tim.

Damian and Danny shared a look and nodded before heading into the tube. 

They looked around for a while but didn’t see much besides the interconnected wires on the floor of the lab. Damian took the right side while Danny took the left. They worked their way up and down the tube. Damian was a little ahead of Danny on their way out. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary.

When they were almost out Danny lost his footing, his hand flying out in front of him. A soft click was heard and time seemed to crawl to a stand still.

Danny couldn’t stand the thought of his friend getting hurt because of him and he felt a rush of adrenaline. He ran as he felt a swirl of energy and electricity surround his body. 

“DANNY!! DAMIAN!!” he heard both Tim and Jazz shout as he reached Damian who was at the mouth of the portal.

A quick shove was all it took to get Damian, who had turned towards him at the sound of the shout, out of the portal. 

“DANIEL!!” he heard Damian shout as the portal activated on top of him, surrounding his body with swirling green.

Blinding pain shot through Danny, feeling as if he was being torn apart and put back together again and again.

He figured he was dying but at least he could protect those he cared about. He was able to shove Damian out of the portal in time, and Tim and Jazz were safely behind the blast glass.

He wouldn’t ever be able to fly among the stars as an astronaut but he was able to protect. His family and friends were safe and that’s all that mattered. 

He could allow himself to succumb to the darkness as the electricity and pain consumed him whole.