#wisteriavines

[wisteriavines]

“She was your mother!”

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

[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!

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Hogwarts AU [pt.10]

This part is written for @wisteriavines to 'Bad for Business' by Sabrina Carpenter

Every time Tim thinks there's no further extent of trouble to possibly push, Danny is right there to prove him wrong.

Sitting with him at Potions was one thing. Getting involved with his exploring escapades was another - the Room of Requirement was truly a marvel even if Tim had no use for it. Yet. Because he might have a few ideas about it for later. Getting to know the Weasley twins was on a whole different level: the duo, even if Gryffindor, were simultaneously the best and the worst kind of acquaintances to have. Between them, Lee Jordan - another Gryffindor prankster in training - and Steph and Danny, Tim was really not sure how they've not been expelled yet.

Then, there was Danny's weird sort of friendship with all the ghosts in the castle; they seemed to tolerate the boy far more than they did any other students. Tim decidedly didn't want to know why. Not because he thought Danny wouldn't explain it, no, he totally would, but Tim feared he would go permanently gray or lose his mind afterward, so he didn't risk it.

That's all not to mention Danny's ongoing battle of wits with Professor Snape and his 'purely educational' visits to Professor Kettleburn and Rubeus Hagrid, Hogwats' Gamekeeper. Tim had a strong suspicion that Danny used them both as a free pass into the Forbidden Forest, but, again, what Tim doesn't know he can't lay awake at night and obsessively worry about.

They were really much too different. Danny was all sunshine laughter when Tim liked to keep a two feet radius distance around him. Danny was determined to befriend absolutely everyone in the castle when Tim was perfectly fine spending his time in the quiet company of books. Danny liked to experiment, Tim stuck to the instructions in the book. Danny was more often serving detention after his classes than not, Tim hadn't had one ever since he stepped foot in Hogwarts.

He could go on, but, on the other end of it all, Tim couldn't deny there were also plenty of things similar between them.

They both liked to learn. Not in the nerdy way Tim's seen Ravenclaws do it, seeking knowledge for the sake of knowledge itself; they researched whatever was interesting, diving head-first into any and every topic that sparked their curiosity. They held family above all else - House rivalry be damned, Tim was not ignoring Jason and Dick when they came to check on him, and he cheered for the eldest Wayne during the Quiddich matches. Or, well, he did when Dick was not playing against Slytherin, that is. Danny's sister, Jasmine, was also on the Gryffindor Quiddich team, and Tim has seen the boy cheer for her despite the different Houses as well.

They were both not shy to break the rules - yes, Tim hadn't had one detention for it yet, but that was just because he was loads better at not getting caught. Wayne household was a great training ground for it. Danny, by the looks of it, rarely bothered to cover up his tracks. A Hufflepuff trait, Tim supposed - he took all the credit for what he's done, good or bad.

In any case, over the last four months, all those differences and similarities led to them being far more than simple partners in class or acquaintances. They were friends, and, given Danny's attitude and bluntness, Tim never bothered to hide the fact.

And yet, when on the first day after Christmas break, Danny just sits down beside him at breakfast, Tim drops his fork.

Because, and Tim does look around to make sure, even if he is sure, they are at the Slytherin table.

Cassius stares at them both from across the table, Flint clicks his tongue so loudly that Tim is pretty sure even people at the next table can hear him, and Pucey gives the intruder a vicious glare. But Manson grins like a maniac and immediately switches her seat from opposite of Tim to right on Danny's other side, so it's not all bad. Well, Tim sincerely hopes so.

"Morning," Danny greets everyone, either not noticing the stares or ignoring them completely, which is, honestly, a rather impressive skill. If there's anything Hufflepuffs are better at than every other House, it's their impenetrable cheerful attitude.

"Morning," Tim echoes, when nobody else does. Samantha snorts and elbows Danny from the other side.

"Was it just me, or you haven't graced anyone with presents yet?" She asks in lieu of a greeting, and, actually, that's a good point. Tim had spent his Yule break at Waynes, and he knew Danny wasn't staying at the castle either, even though Sam did. She argued that she didn't want to spend any more time alone with her parents than absolutely necessary. Thinking back to the offensively pink room that Tim still sees in his nightmares sometimes, he thinks he understands why.

In any case, Tim, as the dutiful young Heir he was, has sent Danny's gift - a limited edition potions book he shamelessly took from Drake Manor second library - to him back on Christmas Eve. And hasn't received anything back, aside from a new practice snitch, but that one was signed as 'from Fenton family', not 'from Danny' specifically. So he was also wondering if Danny was saving his own gifts for after break, when he can give them in person.

"Ah, seeing right through me," Danny chuckles and puts his bag on his lap, rummaging through it. "Here you go, now please stop bothering me about it," he rather unceremoniously shoves a poorly wrapped, brown paper package right into Samantha's arms. And then he turns to Tim, his smile brighter than the sun itself, and places something cylindrical, wrapped in cloth and tied with a blue ribbon on the table in front of him, "And this one's for you."

Tim puts his knife and fork down and picks up the present, weighing it in his hand. He's grown to like this kind of game that the Waynes taught him: rather than tearing the wrapping open at the first chance, you take time to appreciate the gift, trying to guess what's inside just by the feel, weight and sound.

It's hard and a little heavy - metal or glass rather than wood. It doesn't make any sounds even when Tim brings it closer to his ear and shakes it a little, watching Danny's eyebrows rise in amusement.

"Is it some sort of container?" He takes a guess, and Danny gives him a slightly startled, but still nice laugh, his eyes sparkling with something warm and maybe excited.

"Yeah, you can say that," he agrees, resting his chin on his palm and leaning on the table. Manson makes a few delighted screeches behind him, but the boy pays her zero mind, focused on Tim.

Tim eyes him carefully, "Promise me it's not going to bite my fingers off or explode in green goo," he demands because, with Daniel Fenton, one can never be too careful. But Danny easily draws a cross over his heart and smiles again, "I swear it's nothing that will cause temporary or permanent damage."

That's as good as it's going to get, Tim guesses, and sets the present back on the table, untying the ribbon. He is great at keeping a straight face, but his fingers are almost literally itching for him to find out what the gift is, and he is barely able to keep his impatience at bay at this point.

It takes him less than three seconds to finally unwrap his late Yule gift, and when he takes the cloth away, it unravels... a jar.

A plain glass jar, sealed with a cork on top and full of... mist? fog?

Tim tilts his head to the side and throws a puzzled look at Danny, but the boy keeps on smiling. Then, he reaches for the jar and taps on the cork on top; not in any kind of pattern, just tap-tap-tap, like he's trying to wake up whatever it is inside the glass.

The mist reacts immediately. It swirls and moves, shimmering in all the colors of blue and silver, and Tim, who still keeps one hand on the jar, suddenly feels the glass becoming warm under his palm.

"Remember you told me how it's always kind of chilly in your common room?" Danny asks from beside him, "I know it makes sense - you're all literally living under the lake - but I thought it might get cold at night, so, here you go, a night light and a portable heater in one jar. No need to recharge or renew charms on it or anything, it's entirely self-sufficient." He sounds proud of it, and Tim thinks that he knows why: this must have taken a lot of effort to make, especially since they are both, well, first-years. Tim's warming charm lasts a little more than two minutes, and he is great at Charms. Danny's warming charm barely works at all.

But this jar is actually giving off a constant, slightly pulsing under Tim's palm heat - kind of like a heartbeat - and the swirls of silver inside are mesmerizing. Before today, Tim thought that Jason's night light was the coolest, showing the replica of the actual night sky on his ceiling. But this is so much better.

And so much warmer. Tim doesn't like the cold, and Hogwarts, being a giant stone castle built way before heating was invented, is not the most comfortable place in winter. Of course, there are loads of charms, spells and runic enchantments that keep the place from freezing, but Tim can't help but shiver sometimes, when the chill still makes its way all the way into his bones.

But the jar in his hands is giving off a steady, soft wave of warmth, and Tim wraps his cold fingers around it, slowly breathing out. It's perfect. Totally worth being a late gift.

He turns to Danny, gratitude on the tip of his tongue, but stops short when the boy meets his eyes. For a moment, Tim thinks that the shimmering blues inside the jar are of the exact same color as Danny's eyes.

But then he blinks, and the illusion is gone.

Although, the warmth stays, and, maybe, it's coming not only from the jar in his hands but also from somewhere deep inside his chest. He can't tell, since wherever it's coming from, it's pulsing in the same, steady rhythm.

"What is it made of?" He asks, bringing the jar closer to his chest.

Danny blinks, seemingly taken by surprise, and looks to the side for a moment, "Ah, um, it's-"

"Will-o-wisp," Manson suddenly cuts in, leaning over Danny's shoulder, her eyes on the jar and her face strangely pinched, "That's a chunk of a ghost's soul you're holding there."

Tim's eyebrows shoot up. And, judging by the sudden pause in the lull of the conversations nearby, not only his. Danny's cheeks become red, which, in contrast with his pale skin, looks like someone used too much blush on him.

"Err, yeah, it is," he confirms awkwardly, "Don't worry, though, the ghost consented, and it's safe, and I, well, I kind of done this before, so it's all fine and you can't return it anyway," he rambles, picking up his bag and standing up, his cheeks, ears and neck still looking like they are a moment away from spontaneously setting on fire. "Merry late Yule, I hope you like it, bye!" And, without giving Tim a chance to reply or react, Danny is already running out of the Great Hall.

Tim turns his confused gaze to Manson. The girl, apparently paying no mind to her friend's weird behavior, is back to assembling a monstrous sandwich. That has no meat or eggs in it, now that Tim is looking closely.

"You're vegan?" He asks before the thought even registers, and he expects her to snap and hiss, just like she always does. But, surprisingly, she doesn't. Samantha Manson only gives him a considering side-glance and shrugs.

"I am. Got a problem with that?" She doesn't look like she is trying to pick a fight. Or, well, not actively, at least.

"No," Tim shrugs and goes back to his own breakfast.

The jar full of a ghost's soul is still pressed closely to his stomach and feels like it's slowly warming him from the inside out.

Tim reminds himself to thank Danny for it later, when he is not running away from the Slytherin table in panic.

—☆—☆—☆—

Breakfast at the Great Hall vibes:

The jar:

[Picrew]

I know it's technically their first day back at school, so they should be having classes after breakfast that day, but when I started writing, I planned for this scene to happen over break, hence, have Tim, Danny and Sam in their more casual wear:

Tim is cold, Danny doodles on his jeans and likes muggle fashion. Also, in the original scene, Sam was off to go to the greenhouses next, hence the overalls and the shirt that she doesn't care for if it gets dirty.

[Picrew]

—☆—☆—☆—

Honestly, when I first heard the song, I immediately went 'that's Tim struggling to not feel his immense feelings for Danny', and I was in the process of planning my Hogwarts AU at the time, so it kind of spiraled. It might not be as in line with the song lyrics and vibes as my other game pieces, but god knows I'm in love with this bit. Also, since we are here at this topic, I'd like to say I'm so very grateful to @wisteriavines-side blog for their literal immediate reblogs of whatever I write, it always fills me with warm feelings all over when I see your reblogs. Your side blog is one of the few that I've grown to recognize at first glance and, just, thank you. It's a little thing, but it means a lot <3

Anyway, notes!

It's January now, just past the Christmas break - as you might have guessed from the text lol - and the prankster team has been made fully aware of each other. By that, I mean the twins (the sneaky but loud and boisterous as we all know them), Steph (the innocent who is always incredibly hard to catch in the act), and Danny (pulls the weirdest shit that is technically not against the rules most times and always admits it was him when asked). They rarely ever team up - and everyone prays they don't, it's a recipe for disaster - but they also hold a fair bit of rule-breaking solidarity among them, never ratting each other out.

By this point, Danny has put a pause on his Hogwarts exploration and switched to the grounds around the castle. Everyone is of an opinion he is going to choose Care for Magical Creatures as his elective when the time comes.

Yes, that jar holds a piece of Danny's soul. Yes, Sam knows it - she is great at connecting the dots, and she knows Danny's secret. This is also the moment when she realizes that Danny likes Tim in a very not-friendly manner. She is going to come to terms with it rather quickly, though, because in her mind, that means Tim is no competition for her. He is never going to take her title of 'Danny's best friend', so why bother fighting with him?

On the topic of presents, Danny got Sam a whole bunch of poisonous mushrooms that she kept obsessing over when she came to visit the Febton house - specifically, their garden that's full of all kinds of odd things that don't grow anywhere else. Maddie and Jack refused to give an eleven-year-old a fungae that could quite literally kill her if touched without any protection, but Danny has no such reservations, and he is pretty sure Sam is cautious enough (it's not the first time she is handling something deathly poisonous, not that any adults know that).

[ <- part 9 | part 11 ? ]

P.S. a lot of shit happened in my life recently, so, as of now, this series is on hiatus.

[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.

[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

[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]

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

[thechosengryffindor]

https://www.tumblr.com/wisteriavines/748416408971542528/a-sweet-family-ish-everyone-lives-hp-au-with

"Oh good more what if articles."

[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!

[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!

[wisteriavines]

“You’re my kryptonite.”

“You did not just say I am so toxic to your health that me staying in your life could kill you. Is this your way of breaking up with me!?”

[thechosengryffindor]

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

You were so smol😇😅

"Aren't all kids that age?"

[clockwayswrites]

Orange, Mavis (Song Thrush), Danny/Dick

@wisteriavines cw: stitches

“You know, we do have people paid to do this,” Dick commented idly as he pushed the needle through Phantom’s skin.

“Yep.”

“People who are far better at it than me,” Dick added.

“You do fine.”

“They’ve got this great stuff to numb your skin—”

“’Wing,” Phantom said. Dick could tell from Phantom’s tone he was a hairs trigger away from actually snapping.

Dick sighed.

He wanted to push the mater. He always wanted to push the mater. To ask why did no one else seem to know that sometimes the wounds Phantom got carried over to this other side. To ask who even knew about this other side. To ask why Phantom trusted him above everyone else.

But he wouldn’t. Phantom and him were too much alike. They both kept too much buried under quips and grins and a devil may care attitude. Dick refused to be the one that broke Phantom’s carefully constructed damn keeping the real emotions back. It would happen and Dick worried sooner rather than later, but Dick refused to be the one who caused the break.

He would be there to help after though, just like he was always there to help patch Phantom up like this.

Dick sighed and pressed a fleeting kiss to the skin above the wound and went back to stitching it up. In out, in out… the rhythm of the needle brought an old song to mind, one his mother used to sing. He thought he half remembered the words…

“Luna și cu stealilii Să-ți păzească viselii Să-ți mângâie geanilii Geanilii sprânceanilii…”

Yes, he’d be there when the damn broke.

-

prompt set 3, feel free to continue this is you'd like to song link