I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt
“Woah. You look like shit."
Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.
The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.
"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."
And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.
The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.
If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.
"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.
"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.
"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.
The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.
He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."
There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.
"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."
Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"
"Daniel? Is that you?"
His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.
4K notes
·
View notes
omg i’m not sure if you have a fic on this yet but what about the very first time megumi calls reader mom? does he freak out? does reader try to keep it cool but is actually dying inside? is there angst? what do you think??
it’s well known that megumi does call you mom… just not to your face (and then he freaks out).
but then, even after that, it takes him a while to feel comfortable referring to you with a title that he doesn’t fully understand. megumi doesn’t know what a mom is, what he’s supposed to feel for his so called mother…
unlike tsumiki, of course, who, almost exactly two years into living with you and satoru, was fully on board with the title.
you’d been tucking her in one night, smiling at her nonsensical ramblings about school and some girl she met at the store earlier in the day, when she’d just asked.
“can i call you mom?”
you paused your fluffing of her pillows. “what?”
“it’s okay if you don’t want me to,” tsumiki had answered back, hurriedly, her sweet voice true. “i just wanted to ask.”
and… it took a moment to regain any composure after that.
i mean, sure. you knew—truly—that the little girl and boy you would protect with your life were yours. they might’ve been someone else’s—a lifetime ago, when the world was better and reality was more genuine.
but in your world, they were yours.
(and satoru’s sometimes. but very rarely).
you’d been referring to them in kind for… almost two years. it only took a week of knowing the two of them—tsumiki with her genuine heart and show stopping smiles, and megumi with his brooding and paying far too much attention—for you to think as such. they were your children a month in.
but still, you knew that to them, you weren’t… the ideal. you weren’t a nurturer, not a babysitter or an aunt, not a friend but never anything less.
you were just there.
and really, that’s all you wanted to be for them. you didn’t need a title, didn’t need some overrated birthright. you just wanted to see the two of them at the dinner table, laughing at each other and picking at their food.
you weren’t going to ask for anything more.
but being their mom?
you looked down to tsumiki, unable to keep the ache out of your heart, the twinge out of your eyes. “miki,” you answered softly. “are you sure?”
the two of you had talked at length about moms. yours, who took the time you had together for granted, and tsumiki’s mom, who had their time stolen from her.
and you knew how much a mother meant to tsumiki. megumi had no recollection of their parents, but tsumiki couldn’t manage to forget.
“only if it’s okay with you,” the girl whispered, large, beautiful brown eyes looking into yours.
and, honestly, how are you supposed to say no to that?
“of course,” you’d answered back, a magical grin growing on your face. “you can call me whatever you want.”
“okay,” tsumiki met your grin with one of her own.
and when you closed the door that night, it was to the sound of a soft “goodnight, mom,” and the never ending glowing of your heart—just for your little girl.
when you left her room, wandering aimlessly through the house, falling face first on the couch and laying there until your bones ached, satoru couldn’t get anything out of you.
he’d tried rolling you over, irritating you with some bland remark, pulling on your hair… all to no avail.
but when you finally sat up, after about a half an hour, your grin was still so blinding that satoru was concerned for your health. waving a hand in front of your face just to see if you would still react.
you kept your conversation to yourself, knowing you’d probably only be able to hoard it for the night. but that was enough.
but megumi… he’s never been as easy as tsumiki. never as trusting.
so there isn’t a ground breaking conversation. he doesn’t tell you that he’s grateful for you, or that he feels lucky to have you in his life, or that your family is the best thing the little boy could imagine.
no, he’d never say any of that.
when megumi calls you mom for the first time (to your face) it’s in some boring, nonchalant moment.
you’re sitting on the couch, attempting to braid satoru’s stupid hair, when his little voice comes in from down the hallway, almost whining.
“hey mom?” he calls, head peeking around the corner.
“yeah?”
“did i give you my library book?”
“nope,” you pop, meeting his eyes. “did you lose it?”
megumi looks away, back towards his room. “no…” he says, suspiciously, walking back down the hall.
oh, well. at least if it’s gone satoru will be the one paying for it. really, you need to set a limit on the number of books he checks out at once.
you shake your head but focus back in on the object at hand. why is his hair all different lengths? it doesn’t even make any sense.
but satoru’s got his head tilted back, already smiling at you like he knows something you don’t.
“what?” you ask, frowning. you nudge his head but he doesn’t move. you sigh. “did you hide his book?”
satoru doesn’t answer that—probably because he did—he only blinks at you, eyes alight with something you’ll probably never understand.
“what?” you repeat, bothered.
satoru’s grin grows wider. “nothing.”
“then look forward. im busy.”
he chooses, in that moment, to let you deal with it yourself. so he only tucks back his smile, looking towards the mantle once again.
and when you’ve got his hair back in your hands, parting it on the side, he just says, “you’re really terrible at this, you know?”
you gasp. “is that a grey hair, satoru?” you pull at a strand. “you must be working too hard.”
he pulls away, trying aimlessly to look up at his own head. “where!?” he demands, and you only laugh at him.
it’s not until later that night, when satoru’s hands are in your hair this time, brushing through it, and all of the lights are off that you realize it.
“did megumi call me mom?” you ask, into the dark. your voice is mindless, dazed.
“i was wondering when you’d notice.”
and if there’s a slight prick to your eyes, it’s got nothing to do with that, okay? it’s just a title.
if you shed a tear it’s only because satoru accidentally pulls on a knot in your hair and he’s a bastard. really.
(when megumi does it again the next day you have to lean against the counter and try not to tackle the boy where he stands).
355 notes
·
View notes