#wisteriavines

[wisteriavines]

“When the whole town only sees a monster, they don’t exactly look for the humanity.”

[wisteriavines]

Got so attached to one OC that was made for purely daydream purposes and now I'm building them their own universe to inhabit as the main character

Ever just make an OC and you think they’ll just be a one-off character but then all of the sudden, whoop. You dive into the character to understand how they handle a situation you put them in, you help them succeed, develop their personality more than you planned and you’re just attached to your little baby now so you’ve got to see them grow and flourish and make it to the happy ending they deserve?

[clockwayswrites]

Die Screaming, Live Laughing

Danny/Tim, Cyan, Wind through tree branches/Windchimes @wisteriavines @darkstarsapocalypse (I saw you before you changed that! Twins!)

cw:bar parent fentons, more temporary character death, bones

The faint, mechanical whir under his fingertips as he spins the camera lens comforts Tim. The fiddling is familiar from the years of following Bats and crime across the city. The rooftops of Gotham are an environment that he’s far more familiar with than here. Here is nothing but endless trees and leaves.

Well, somewhere here is also the campgrounds and Bernard, Ives, Steph, and Cass; but that’s far out of sight and almost out of mind. It’s easy, as he listens to the wind rustle through the trees, to feel like nothing exists but the trees and Tim and his camera.

He spins the lens again.

Ostensibly, the four of them are in these woods to find Mothman. Which would be cool! But even Tim, who proposed this whole thing, knows that it’s just an excuse for the four of them to do something away from Gotham. To do something to make actual use of their summer between high school and college.

If Tim went to college, that is.

He’d been accepted, sure, but he… he just didn’t know if he wanted to. It felt like there were more important things to be doing than college. College was sitting in a classroom and listening to someone drone on about a subject that Tim could crash course himself on with the right library access in a month. It also meant new people and new noises and maybe even a new home. None of that sounds great, really. Moving in with Bruce to Wayne Manor had been enough change, thank you very much.

Tim’s foot catches on something and he does a half step to keep his balance. He expects to see a tree root when he glances down. It’s bone instead. That’s not… unexpected. They had already seen deer in the woods, the creatures got stupidly close to the campsite. It would make sense that with the big rains the few weeks before, there could have been old remains uncovered. But there’s something…

The dirt brushes away easily from the surface of the bone and, with a little digging, Tim is able to pull it free of the earth.

This isn’t a deer bone.

Tim knows this shape.

This is human. A femur.

“You have to be careful where you’re walking out here.”

Tim stands and spins, the femur held like his staff would be.

The speaker is leaning against a tree several feet away. The golden, setting sun backlights them, making them look almost angelic with how they’re wreathed in light. They’re hard to look at.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Tim says, plastering on a nervous smile that was only half for show. How did they sneak up on him? That should have been impossible with the leaves and branches scattered across the forest floor. “Do you run into animal skeletons a lot out here?”

“Not really,” they say with a shrug before they start forward towards Tim. Their steps are silent. “I don’t really get around. And also, that’s not an animal skeleton.”

“No?” Tim’s grip on the femur tightens. “How do you know that?”

“How? Well, that’s because it’s mine!”

Tim swings.

The femur goes right through the stranger.

“Sorry! Little intense, I get it!” They back up a step and raise their arms. The dappled sunlight shines right through their hand. Shines right through them like the stranger is just made out of gossamer. “I get it, but be careful with that, please? It’s my arm! Or leg? No, leg.”

“Leg, it’s a femur,” Tim says, his mouth running without him as his brain works.

“Leg. Ancients, I miss having legs. And arms… and, well, anything solid really,” the stranger sighs. “I am sorry for scaring you. Just… it’s hard not to get a little intense when someone is holding one of my bones, you know?”

“Oh shit! That’s right, sorry,” Tim stammers as he hurries to put the femur back down on the disturbed earth. “Do you— I mean, should I rebury it? Did the rains washing away the earth, um, wake you up?”

“Kinda?” They tilt their head as they crouch down next to Tim.

It’s clear now, as they move a bit out of the light, how transparent they are. It’s like in the shadow they lose tangency. Their hair is still just as blinding, being bright white in a way that’s really beautiful. They reach out to touch the femur but stop short.

“I’m tied to my bones. It’s why they dumped them all the way out here. After they killed me, I mean, all the way killed me, I haunted the fuck out of them. And yeah, sure, they could hurt this form of me too, but I always found a way out and then it all started again. Burying my bones was the only way to get rid of me, and those fuckers didn’t even scratch me a headstone in the tree or anything. Some parents, huh?”

“Holy— yeah,” Tim says. Looking back down at the other partially exposed bones he has to swallow back a wave of sadness. “Is that a yes to covering them up?”

“Actually… I’d like you to dig them up. I’m not stupid enough to think I’ll get justice or whatever, but I’d… I’d like to be somewhere proper and under my name.”

“What is it? Your name?”

“Danny.”

“Okay, Danny,” Tim gives a little nod and starts digging. “My friends and I will get you somewhere you feel safe. I’m Tim, by the way.”

“Thank you, Tim.”

Danny doesn’t help dig. He can’t, he explains as Tim and him talk. While his bones are buried, he’s not able to interact with them or else he would have gotten them out of there a long time ago. They learn together that as soon as the bones are free and set gently aside that Danny can touch them.

Tim never thought he’d see someone so emotional over a tibia, but Tim can’t blame the guy. Tim figures he’d be emotional over his own bones too.

The big bones are the easiest. The ribs Tim is extra careful with. The fingers are weirdly like peanut shells in his hand. (He’s not going to eat pb&j for weeks now.) Danny chats the whole time, asking Tim about the world. Tim feels wholly inadequate to catch someone up like that, but when conversation turns to technology Tim settles into a rhythm.

It also lets them figure out that while Danny died just shy of nineteen, he’s apparently spent almost two decades in the ground. He still looks just shy of nineteen. He looks like he should be in the forest for the same reason that Tim is, celebrating the end of one era and the start of the next. Danny should be looking to the future, not mourning it.

It makes Tim pause when he finally unearths Danny’s skull. What would it have been like to see Danny smile? To hear him laugh without that faint echoing quality that he has as a ghost? To touch him?

“I’m sorry,” Tim says and holds out the skull. Danny’s skull.

“Thank you,” Danny whispers. His hands tremble as he reaches out towards the skull. He crumples forward before he can touch it, a sob tearing through him.

“I’ll make sure you’re somewhere nice.

“Thank you.” Danny lets out a breath he doesn’t have and sags forward the last inch. His forehead bumps against the skull.

Then he keeps going forward.

The world explodes into light.

-

“Tim?!”

“Are you sure he’s still alive?”

“You can see him breathing, Bernard.”

“Pulse.”

“Tim!”

Tim gasps awake and blinks rapidly to clear his vision. His friends and sister stand clustered above him. It has gotten dark and their flashlights are blinding.

“You okay?” Cass asks.

“Ow.”

“Yeah, he’s okay,” Steph sighs. “Hey Tim, who the fuck is that?”

“Wha—” Fuck his head hurts. Who the fuck is who?

Oh, the person laying in his arms. The person who’s solid and warm and alive.

Tim starts laughing.

“Okay, maybe a little not okay,” Steph amends.

“Is he ever?” Tim hears Ives mutter.

“Guys,” Tim interrupts them discussing his status once he can breathe again. “This? This is Danny.”

“Being alive again hurts,” Danny mumbles against Tim’s neck and Tim can’t help it, he just starts laughing again.

Being alive does hurt, but fuck if that isn’t wonderful sometimes.

---

AN: So this one got away from me a little but, uh... tada? I was planing to have it all explained more, but once Danny didn't purposefully do it, that didn't fit. Basically all if his frankly absurd powers and as a ghost got jump started by his skull and Tim's lifeforce and tada? 100% pulled some from Tim's Gotham Knights character where he's an awkward little bean who is so not neurotpyical. Him and Bernard taking a vacation to hunt Mothman is from that too.

Anyways, stay delightful, darlings!

[dcxdpdabbles]

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑢𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒: 𝑔𝑜 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡, 𝑠𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑐ℎ "𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒 + 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑒," 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑖𝑥 𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑠. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑎𝑔 𝑠𝑖𝑥 𝑝𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒.

Thank you, @wisteriavines, for the tag! (I made a new post since the last thread was so long. )

I don't know what my vibe is. But it explains me in a strange way.

Tagging: @anonymous-existences, @issak @starlightcat04 @mcnana @akymyru @rivierdelune

And anyone who wants to!

[camels-pen]

( @wisteriavines )

“Sanji!” Usopp called as he entered the galley. “What’s up, Nami said you needed...?” He trailed off as he looked around the empty room.

There was a pot simmering on the stove, chopped vegetables and herbs on a cutting board, and a steaming cup of tea on the table. 

Usopp sighed. “Out for a smoke.” He plopped himself down on a chair, sagging into it. “Ugh, all her meddling is bad for my heart.”

At least this time she waited until I was finished doing all of my weapon maintenance, he thought as he reached for the teacup, lifting it to his lips. It was her climatact though, so of course—

There was a distinctly non-tea substance touching his tongue. It wasn’t even a liquid. And it was on his tongue.

He jolted, pulling the cup away. “Who put a rock—?” 

There was a lizard. In the teacup.

It was yellow with black paws and horns, swirled lines of black scales above its eyes, and it was glaring at him.

There was smoke pouring out of its nostrils.

Usopp did what any normal person would do in that instance.

He dropped the cup and screamed.

[wisteriavines]

Your knuckles are bruised. Your shirt untucked and rumpled. There's a bruise on your jaw, throbbing in sync with your heartbeat. The adrenaline has faded by now, but you're restless. You're trembling. You want another chance to break the bastard's face.

You're waiting for a friend to pay the bail with the money you set aside for this exact situation. There was no other way this reunion could have turned out, no matter how or where it happened.

For all you saw this coming, you still ended up surprised.

"Where's my son?"

The ache from flexing your hands helps distract you; reminds you that now is a time to be calm. This incident will make things difficult; no need to make it any worse by having the officers believe you’re still a hair’s trigger away from punching someone.

It’s another half hour until you’re finally released. You’re calmer now, able to express (severely misplaced) remorse with sincerity. (The video your front porch camera has of the reunion has likely been confiscated as evidence.)

While being escorted from the holding cells to the front lobby, you catch a glimpse of your brother. He’s badly bruised; an ice pack being held against his eye and a bandage holding his broken nose together.

It’s a challenge to suppress the grin that threatens to overtake your face; to keep the deeply sated satisfaction carefully tucked away from view.

He tilts his head back, eyes roaming around. His eyes find yours. They’re angry.

But yours are furious.

He flinches away and you tuck your chin to grin.

“In the process of filing a restraining order and case against you with his parents.”

Your brother left his newborn child with you so that he could go “find himself,” whatever that meant. Lacking the resources and unable to care for a child, you had no choice but to give them up for adoption. Years later, your brother finally returns and asks where his child is.

[bibliophilicstranger]

https://www.tumblr.com/fuckyeahsuperheropowercouples/756918344883617792/wisteriavines

The smallest boy😥😇❤️

Oh, Harry!

Definitely see where he (and Lily) start gaining Gryffindorish life-philosophies in that one.

It's a sweet story. <3

[demaparbat-hp]

https://www.tumblr.com/fuckyeahsuperheropowercouples/756918344883617792/wisteriavines

The smallest boy😇🤧❤️😢

Such a cutie

[thechosengryffindor]

https://www.tumblr.com/fuckyeahsuperheropowercouples/756918344883617792/wisteriavines

You were so smol😇😅

"Aren't all kids that age?"

[wisteriavines-side]

I've been helpfully informed (numerous times) i have a resting 🐝 face so...it's mostly accurate lol

Tags: @love-has-no-labels @glow-in-the-dark-death @nerdpoe @arsenic-and-chaos and anyone who wants to join

Starting new picrew bc I find this one super cute and pretty so lets go! LINK

No pressure tag @wyvernslovecake @bby-deerling @nina-ya @ringdabel @im-stuck-in-fandom-hell and everyone who wants to join! 💛

[wisteriavines]

“She was your mother!”

“She was a stranger. There’s nothing to mourn.”

[rose-of-the-grave]

https://www.tumblr.com/fuckyeahsuperheropowercouples/756918344883617792/wisteriavines

The smallest boy🥺😭😇

That is so cute! 🥰 Reminds me of a prompt that was sent in a while ago that I wrote for, First Day of School.

Thanks for sending that in anon!

[clockwayswrites]

@wisteriavines-side #dpxdc#danny in metropolis#I love how conner is determined to slowly ease Danny into a close friendship/relationship#like luring in a cat#that’s what this was reminding me of

You, you get it! Conner really went: oh no, he's a snarky fragile disaster. ...I'm into it.

Now he's just holding out food like 'pst pst pst pst'.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Make me work on my fics!

Rules: Make a 24hr poll listing the titles of every WIP you want to work on. (It’s fine if you only have one, still make a poll for the vote count). Whichever WIP title gets the most votes, write 1 sentence for every vote received.

Thank you for tagging me @pinklotushere! It wasn't letting me reblog with the poll for some reason, so I just started a new one.

Tagging: @anonymous-existences @kashlyn @wisteriavines-side @caleism-1 @tsuniio @transparentgayprotector @starfire1408

And anyone who would like to! No pressure though!

[chapin68]

Our #wisteria #wisteriavine is #flowering Nuestra planta de #glicinia está #floreciendo (at Gardena, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/BxoMsHlhGMS/?igshid=vsvgqy6rtmix

[wisteriavines]

“I did everything of my own violation. For you.”

“Wait… So this whole time, you weren’t under my mind control?”