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#danny answers
itsdannycragg · 1 year
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I just wanted to say it has been really heartwarming hearing about your transition. As a transmasc myself in my late 20s, I was really nervous about transitioning, but I felt such solidarity seeing you document your own journey. I wish you all the best!
Thank you so much!!!
Coming out to myself (and the world) as a man was one of the best things that I ever did for myself.
I do wish I could have made even more comics about it, but really after a certain point there's not much to say. I think transmascs kind of hit an equilibrium after a year or two where there's not much change societally or bodily. Except yknow, like, getting slightly balder and hairier every day.
I wish the best for you and your journey too!
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grlscrushing · 1 month
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can i please be added to the get him back taglist? 🤍
yes💛
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featherfur · 5 months
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i was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder a few years ago, it took them forever to diagnose me just bc of how hard it is to pin down, and i didn't get my official diagnosis until i was 27. i've been diagnosed with autism and adhd previously in earlier years, so i was already familiar with neurodivergent communities, and it was really kind of fucked up to come back after getting my bpd diagnosis and seeing people treat it like it was something else entirely. i've had people trying to tell me that bpd doesn't count as neurodivergence because "it's a personality disorder, not a mental disorder" like the two aren't intrinsically intertwined?? also dealing with people who i had previously known for several years suddenly start holding me at arm's length because i was a "ticking time bomb" or some sort of monster who would either split and explode on them, or god forbid, start obsessing over them.
it really just sort of blew my mind just how ableist DN communities can be when it comes down to conditions that aren't just autism, adhd, depression, or anxiety.
No this is it exactly. This is why I went on that little rant on that post.
I’m autistic, I’ve always been aware of it so I was in different community groups ones labeled just generic ND communities and a lot of autistic ones.
I’m also bipolar. I wasn’t diagnosed until I was 22 but the near minute I was and told people about it, it was like I had secretly been hiding that I was a monster the whole time. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, here to make the rest of the community look bad. I’m not allowed to talk about suffering from psychosis without the people who were just hollering about accepting ND ppl especially people with Autism and ADHD who have a hard time, suddenly turning on me and treating me like lesser.
I can’t talk about experiencing psychosis without being told I’m scaring people or I make them uncomfortable. I can’t talk about intrusive thoughts, and I mean the most disgusting vile intrusive thoughts possible, without being told that IM a bad disgusting monster. I’m barely a person to them if I tell more of myself then just what’s palatable to them.
I can’t say I’m bipolar and not hear people go ‘lol I have mood swings too’ or ‘yeah I’m ADHD emotions are just everywhere’ (that happens more then you think…). Bipolar has to be kooky giggle town mood swings that’s a joke. It’s not allowed to be mania not sleeping for days on end and being on the high end of every forsaken emotion possible, it’s not allowed to be broken moments trying to suppress every urge to claw your eyes out. It’s not allowed to be hallucinations because you can’t sleep and you’re all over the place and then you crash and can’t eat or move or think when the depression hits.
I can’t talk to people who are part of these communities without first vetting how they treat someone who isn’t part of the ‘good’ Neurodivergent folk. Because they’ll treat you like a monster, because they repeat the same ableist bullshit that’s thrown at them.
Because they want to be part of the ‘normal’ group and want to expel the ‘freaks’ as if we’re not all under that ND umbrella.
The communities are terrifyingly self-othering.
Neurodivergent has become a short form of Autism/ADHD/Depression/Anxiety. But only the ‘good’ forms. If you’re too autistic to communicate ‘properly’ (that’s sarcasm), then you’re gross and need to leave. If you’re so depressed that your teeth rot then you did it to yourself and didn’t those posts on the internet tell you how important it is to brush? If you have generalized anxiety and are terrified to leave your home then you need to do better, you’re not ND unless you have the cutesy shy anxiety.
Every “neurodivergent experience” post is very… what’s the word… separating? That’s not quite it but it’s late lmao. But every time I see those posts it feels like another gap because I, as a bipolar person, do not and probably will not ever experience those! There are somethings I do, I am autistic, and I understand the ADHD hyperactivity when I have a hypomanic episode, but most of them?
I don’t. And I can only imagine it’s more hurtful and upsetting to those who don’t have those main four but are still ND. Like those with Cerebral Palsy or OCD nor Narcissistic Personality Disorder.
As someone who has dealt with intrusive thoughts and felt scared from the way people in my own community mock it and say it’s disgusting if it’s used to describe what it actually means, I can only imagine how folk w BPD and OCD and Schizophrenia feel when those are the exact words used to be violently insulted.
The ND community is thick with ableism and hate towards anyone who isn’t palatable to the rest of the world, and they keep choosing the side of the ones who want us gone so they can be accepted instead of realizing that every ableist (and it’s culturally taught, it’s not always an intentional action) also thinks shitty of them and want you and any sign of neurodivergence eradicated.
If they didn’t then Autism Speaks wouldn’t be so damn rich and open about wanting to get rid of us. The average person wouldn’t be so vile towards ADHD people wanting medication. They wouldn’t claim if you take medication that you’re addicted and not trying, and we all know how they fucking hate addicts.
A lot of the most proud ND communities aren’t safe for anyone who isn’t the ‘good’ kind of Neurodivergent. It’s terrifying and gross, and a lot more fellow ND folk need to think about how they’re treating the rest of us.
You don’t get a pass on ableism because your card has an ND stamp on it.
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dannysboi · 1 year
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oh? u a boy in a skirt?
Hell yeah!!! This one's a freebie but any more and ya gon haveta ask real nice ;3
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bis-muth · 8 months
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So you use the queer label which is cool, but are you normal about it? Like, if someone points out that it’s a slur or says they don’t like that word for them, you don’t take that as an invite to debate? Genuinely not trying to be confrontational, I’m just one of those “use it for you, not for others unless they ask, try and avoid using it as an umbrella term” people and i’d like to know your thoughts.
look… this isn’t an educational blog. but i’ll say this: queer has been used as an umbrella term since the 90’s. this isn’t new. if you don’t feel comfortable calling yourself queer that’s fine, but i’d urge you to sit down and seriously dissect why you feel this way about this specific term. there’s lots of info elsewhere online that digs more into the history of reclaiming the word and terf pushback against its use
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vaxxy-the-raven · 2 years
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This is purely an assumption, but-- and excuse me if I'm wrong-- I'm going to take a wild guess and assume the scene with Vax and the Briarwoods gives you way too much serotonin for some reason, and that's why you have it as your header. If the answer is yes, then hi, same here let's be friends, and if the answer is no, then well, please ignore me. :'))
You're absolutely right!
That whole bit from Vax getting caught in the room to him landing in the water after Sylas drops him when Vox Machina show up...
Something about it all just really connected with my brain. 🤷‍♂️
The actual bite especially.
I'm glad I'm not alone.
Hello friend! (:
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woobieking · 2 years
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happy homestuck day danny :^)
happy homestuck day. i think it's really cool that homestuck has a literal day. you can't say that about most stories. I mean theres always the day that it started, we have that for neokosmos (5/1/15) but it's not like a personal holiday to tons of people. unfortunately neokosmos takes place 500 years after the earth is exploded by a meteor so the dates are a little beyond our time
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grumpyassathena · 2 years
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johnlock headcanons?
sobbing bc i got this on my birthday three years ago and didn’t answer??? 😭
- johnlock headcannons -
• the boys bake tg. there’s no doubt about it
• john got feverishly high one night with sherlock and they both remember everything that happened but won’t tell a soul,,,,
• cherry pie was their first shared dessert together
• sherlock actually LOVED johns mustache but couldn’t help the bullying 💀
• sherlock has Pinterest boards to help him keep things aesthetically organized (including a wedding theme board)
• they share ties <3333333
• honey is their fav thing to use in the bedroom 👀👀
• sherlock HATES spandex/leather/rubber on himself,,,but on john,,,,he’s drooling
• john helps sherlock file his nails bc he h a s to keep them clean and proper and it’s just a cute moment between them every time
• they came out as a couple to Lestrade first and he yelled “no shit”
• DID I MENTION THEY BAKE TOGETHER ??????
• yeah they both wear aprons and dance around each other in the kitchen
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declamationark · 2 months
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DPXDC prompt: There’s an alien invasion incoming and the justice league are all up in arms to defeat them. Once they break into the mothership, however, they discover that the aliens were already beaten up and there’s this ghostly child cackling in the control room. It’s Danny and he is Obsession-drunk and having an absolute blast exploring every nook and cranny of the ship, dismantling it to see how the machines work, driving it around, chatting a hundred miles per hour to the definitely-concussed and groaning alien commander, and just zooming fro and fro with eyes dilated so hard there’s only a tiny ring of green in his eyes, lost in the feral serotonin sauce
Bonus points if the justice league calm Danny down by having him fanboy over Martian Manhunter, and then in the end, Danny goes “I’m gonna stick with you now! No takebacks!” and adopts J’onn into the Fenton family, now J’onn has two midwestern folks to hang out with for the holidays (the Kents from that Christmas special and now the Fentons)
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ew-selfish-art · 7 months
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DPxDC Au: Normally when Danny vandalizes ancient cave walls and historic places on his 'favor' missions for Clockwork, he gets sent back to erase them. But no, apparently this time, when Danny added his actual phone number into some painting, he's not allowed to go back and fix it. Ugh.
...
Tim has had the painting of Bruce professionally reviewed a few times since the old Bat was retrieved from the time stream. He's not entirely sure how the painting still exists, he's not even sure that it matters any more... But one day Tim catches something new in the painting.
It was small, and it could've just been the light at first but... Is that a phone number in the background?? It looks like black marker on the black curtains and it makes him feel feral. The family is kinder this time about how they think he's gone crazy- but each one of them admit that they can't remember a phone number ever being present.
The lab reports that the number was added over the paint- and that it's an ink based marking akin to a sharpie but like, hundreds of years old. So... It's been added recently but not at all recently enough for Tim to have an explanation.
Tim doesn't want to hear any more of his family members opinions on the matter and he certainly isn't going to just, stop investigating or something stupid like that. So, he takes the painting to the tower, gathers his team (Cassie, Kon and Bart), and they call the number in the middle of the night after a lot of planning/back-and-forth/catastrophizing.
It doesn't answer until the final ring, and the static that comes through the phone is bone chilling. A deep, monstrous groan which echoed with agony fills the room.
"I have a math test in like, three hours, who the fuck are you and why the fuck are you calling in the middle of the night?" The voice now complains, still sounding vaguely inhuman despite it's very human word choices.
"Your number is in a historical painting, we had a few questions but uh, you can call us back later?" Tim cringes as he says it but he hadn't planned on having to reply to someone trying to go back to bed. Or someone who was apparently also a teenager. (He had so, so many contingency plans for like, every kind of villain, alien or demon. lame.)
"...Ugh. might as well." The voice calls out, agreeing with a sigh that echos so deeply the team can feel it in their bones.
"Cool. Good luck on your test?" Tim offers.
"Mph." And the line hangs up.
...
Danny is at lunch with Sam and Tucker when he remembers the late night call. He'd spent the morning bitching about never getting a full night of sleep and it finally occurred to him what had happened. Of course his friends think it's hilarious that CW wouldn't let him erase his number. Of course they do.
They stop laughing when Danny calls the number back.
"Hello, this is Red Robin of Gotham. I have Superboy, Wonder girl and Impulse present with me. How did your math test go?"
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luxaofhesperides · 1 month
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Soulmark AU + Sleeping Beauty ; requested by @candeartist422!
For the last few years, Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die.
It sounds cruel to say it that way. But the waiting is more painful, he thinks, than just mourning a lost love. It’s not like most people ever meet their soulmates anyways; his parents weren’t meant to be, but they still loved each other and had a life together. He wishes he could turn his focus away from his soulmate, but Duke is a romantic at heart and has always wanted to find the other half of his soul.
But since he was fourteen, his soulmark has dulled, fading in and out of color. What was once a vibrant blue crystal star, with eight points and a swirl of watercolor hues around it, dimmed more and more until Duke was sure he was watching his soulmate die slowly. 
His soulmate didn’t die then. Whoever they are got better, his soulmark gaining color, but it never went back to the way it was. For years after, Duke would check at the beginning and end of each day, keeping track of when it faded and when it regained its color. 
He thought his soulmate was sick. In and out of hospitals, fighting to stay alive.
And then it went nearly colorless. 
Duke doesn’t remember much about that day. He knows he woke up, brushed his teeth, the lifted up his shirt to check his soulmark in the mirror. The blue was almost completely gone, the star on his left hipbone nearly gray with how colorless it was. He started at it for a moment, shocked, and reality slid away from him as he retreated into the safety of his mind, fully dissociating. 
Bruce had found him when Duke didn’t show up for breakfast. He held him and offered quiet words of comfort that Duke couldn’t understand, but just having someone with him lessened the hurt of losing his soulmate. 
Seeing the color come back the next day, faint as it was, hurt even more.
A year later, Duke still can’t break the habit of checking his soulmark twice a day. It hasn’t changed at all, still faint and dim, but carrying just enough color to show that his soulmate was still alive. At the very least, they were still breathing, but his chance of ever meeting them is basically zero. Still, he can’t help but hope, wishing that he could meet them even once before they die and leave him forever. 
“Same as ever,” he murmurs to himself as he brushes his thumb against his soulmark. He’s terrified that he’s forgotten how beautiful the blue of it was when his soulmate was healthy. 
Duke doesn’t let himself think on it too much anymore. Though his thoughts often turn to his soulmate during quiet moments like these, the busy nature of Gotham is usually more than enough to pull his attention back to the here and now. There’s no use in obsessing over his soulmate anyways; they’re just going to die, sooner or later, and Duke knows he’ll never get to meet them. They’ll just be another empty space in his life, right next to his parents. 
“Come on, Thomas, focus,” he tells himself firmly, then gets dressed and heads down to the kitchen for breakfast.
The manor is quiet. It usually is in the mornings, with everyone from the night shift dead asleep and trying to get as much rest as they can before they have to start their day. Not that many of them stay in the manor these days; Duke and Damian are the only permanent residents at the moment, but Steph usually stays half with her mom and half in the manor during the summers when she’s home from college, and the others drop in whenever they feel like it. 
Bruce lives more in the Batcave than the manor, so he doesn’t really count. It’s also why Duke is surprised to see Bruce awake and dressed like a normal person, drinking coffee in the kitchen as if this is a normal occurrence. 
“Morning,” Duke offers.
“Good morning, Duke,” Bruce replies. “Sleep well?”
“Well enough. Alfred out or something?”
“He may have kicked me out of the Batcave to clean it up a bit,” Bruce answers tiredly. “Want me to make breakfast?”
Duke has heard the horror stories of Bruce’s attempts to make edible food in a kitchen. In the interest of not dealing with food poisoning, Duke shakes his head quickly and says, “Nah, it’s fine. I was kinda wanting to eat out for breakfast. Get out there as me, and not a mask, you know?”
“Mind if I join you? Alfred may forgive me for not sleeping if I willingly go outside.”
Duke laughs. “Sure man, as long as you pay.”
“I’ll drive, too.”
“What, don’t trust me behind a wheel?”
Bruce gives him a tired look, eyes dead and dull. “I have taught all my children how to drive. The day I willingly let them take the wheel when I am not actively dying is the day I’ve been replaced by a robot clone of myself who doesn’t know better yet.”
“That is… very specific. Is that a thing you usually worry about?”
“I’m Batman. I have to worry about everything.”
Yeah, that tracks. Duke wouldn’t be surprised if he has at least five contingency plans for that scenario, should it ever happen. “Well,” he says, “Right now, all you need to worry about is having your wallet and driving us down to The Foodie Nook. I’ve been craving their breakfast plates for ages.”
Bruce doesn’t object to his choice of restaurant and follows Duke down to the garage, grabbing a random set of keys and pointing it out to the many cars he owns. One near the front blinks its lights as it unlocks and Duke cheerfully tosses himself into the passenger seat as Bruce opens the garage door. 
The drive into Gotham is smooth. They don’t hit traffic until they reach the bridge that leads into the city proper, taking them away from the quiet of Bristol. The morning is busy, but not enough that Duke worries about being out as the Signal to help keep the peace. It’s a normal type of busy, one borne from people going about their lives, feeling safe enough to go out. 
The Foodie Nook is entirely local and very popular, so the parking lot is nearly full. But they expanded their space last year, which means he and Bruce don’t have to sit outside while they wait to grab a table. Bruce keeps conversation light and casual, well aware of the many listening ears around them, and it’s nice, feeling normal for once. 
Well, as normal as life can be with Bruce Wayne™. The server who comes to lead them to a table realizes who she’s talking to after she gets a proper look at them while holding open the door and promptly stutters over her words. 
“No need for any special treatment,” Bruce laughs lightly, “We’re just here for breakfast. Nothing special.”
“Of course,” she replies, cheeks red. “Um, right this way! We’ve got a table by the windows for you. Just two, yeah?”
“Yup! Just two. Thought this was a good day to spend some time with Duke. He’s a great kid, you know, I’m glad I was given the opportunity to foster him.”
The sunny, cheerful Bruce Wayne persona is so different from the usual Bruce he works with that it feels like he’s standing next to a stranger. But his words are sincere and warm his heart, filling up the gaps that his soulmate has left. 
“Here you are!” their server announces, showing them to their table. “I’ll be right back with some menus.” She’s gone in a rush, and other customers glance over before quickly averting their gaze. 
It’s one of the unspoken rules of Gotham: give the Waynes their privacy while they’re out in public. Questions and conversation are for public events only, but if they see a Wayne out and about during a normal day, everyone leaves them be unless spoken to first. Duke used to follow those rules as well when he was just another Gothamite. It’s strange being on the other side of that now that he’s in with the Waynes.
Duke barely has to look through the menu when it’s handed to him. The breakfast plates are his favorites and he gets one every single time he comes to The Foodie Nook; stacked full with breakfast foods from around the world. As a kid, he loved the Mexico Plate, but these days he’s craving either the Brazilian Plate or the Vietnamese Plate.  
He can’t decide on which one and thinks about tossing a coin to decide, but seeing how that’s Two Face’s whole thing, he decides to hold off and settle the matter with eenie-meenie-minnie-mo. 
He gets the Vietnamese Plate.
Bruce, on the other hand, reads through the entire menu like it’s a novel, then leans over and says rather loudly, “Duke, what’s a tort-illa.” 
The pain he feels hearing that is only worsened by the amusement in Bruce’s eyes. He’s doing it on purpose, playing up the Brucie act for the public so he can psychologically torment Duke. A few nearby customers choke back laughter, turning away to hide their smiles. 
Duke shakes his head and says, “Don’t worry about it. It’s just food. Don’t ask any more questions, I just want a peaceful breakfast.”
“Well then,” Bruce replies, “I suppose I know what to order now.”
As if she was summoned, their server reappears before them, cheeks still looking a little flushed. “Hi! Ready to order?”
She writes down their orders quickly, valiantly keeping a straight face at Bruce’s mispronunciation of tortilla, then heads off to deliver their orders to the kitchen. 
Rather than draw out a conversation with Brucie Wayne, Duke settles for playing a few idle games on his phone; his current favorite is one quiet cat cafe game where he directs cats into fulfilling cafe orders. 
Bruce, despite being out in his civilian identity, is working. He’s on his Batman phone, which looks the same as his other cell phones except this one has a bat symbol sticker just barely hiding a Superman sticker on the phone case. His brow is slightly furrowed as he reads whatever file he’s accessing from the Batcomputer. It’s a little worrying but it could be anything. Bruce makes the same expression when he reads one of Tim’s snarky comments getting quoted in the news.
But that’s not Duke’s problem! He’s here to enjoy his breakfast and it will take the end of the world itself to remove him from his seat before he’s done eating.
The game takes most of his attention until their food comes out, and by then Bruce has tucked away the smallest of his Batman mannerisms. They enjoy a normal, peaceful breakfast. Bruce ends it by asking their server if she has any debt that’s weighing her down, then giving her a tip that’s at least five thousand dollars above that. 
She does cry and Bruce hugs her. It’s very sweet. 
As soon as they get back into the car, his easy going smile drops and Duke knows some superhero nonsense is about to take over his day. 
“Duke,” Bruce starts, seriously, “I received a message from Zatanna.”
“Don’t drag this out,” Duke says, “Just give it to me straight. What terrible thing is about to happen to us?”
“It’s nothing too big. They just recently defeated a magical being who had been tearing apart secret government facilities in Illinois. He had both magic and a high tech weapon, which they confiscated and are delivering to me. The government agency he was fighting was suspiciously interested in the weapon, and based on their behaviors and newly revealed work, Zatanna made the decision to turn the weapon over to us so it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
Bruce smoothly merges into traffic as he speaks, getting them onto the road back to the manor. There’s a look in his eyes that means he’s keeping a lot unsaid, and Duke knows without a doubt that whatever this government agency was doing is bad if Zatanna needs Batman to act as extra security. 
He’s not sure about her decision to trust the weapon to be safe in Gotham, either. Sure, Batman will keep it as safe as he can, but with their luck, it’ll end up in the hands of a Rogue and lead to a lot of death and destruction. 
As soon as they cross the bridge and return to Bristol, Bruce steps on the gas and the car tears down the road. Without any other cars to worry about (or traffic laws), it takes barely two minutes to reach the manor, when the gates open for them and let them into the garage. 
Alfred waits for them by the door, looking them over with a critical eye. “I see you have managed to go outside, Master Bruce. What’s the special occasion?”
“Just breakfast,” Bruce answers. “I’m heading back down to the Batcave. Zatanna will be here soon to deliver a weapon.” He’s gone before Alfred can say anything more, hurrying down the hall and turning the corner, disappearing from sight as he heads towards his office. 
“I see we have yet to break that bad habit of his. Did you enjoy your morning out, Master Duke?”
“Sure did, Alfred. I’m, uh, also going down to the Batcave. He’s definitely not telling me a lot about what’s going on, so I’m just going to read about it over his shoulder. I’ll be back up for lunch, though!”
“And perhaps you’ll be able to drag Master Bruce away from that cave of his,” Alfred comments wryly as he walks with Duke towards the office. He gives Duke a nod, then splits away from him, returning to the kitchen where Duke can hear Damian speaking to someone, probably Tim by the annoyed tone of his voice, and mentally wishes Alfred luck in handling them.
Duke sets the correct time on the clock in Bruce’s office and heads down to the Batcave, taking the steps two at a time. 
Bruce is already at the Batcomputer, shoulders tensed, when he arrives. 
“More bad news?” he asks as he makes his way over.
Bruce doesn’t bother looking away from the screen as he says, “More details about the fight. It seems the magical being called himself a ghost and was going on a rampage due to a betrayal. He says they nearly killed his son.”
“Oh, yikes.”
“And two of the scientists working with the government agency said that he stole their son and is keeping them from saving him.”
“Yikes,” Duke says with more feeling.
He doesn’t get to hear anymore details about JLD’s fight with this ghost when he catches a flicker in the corner of his eye. Duke turns and stares at the empty space in the Batcave near the medbay and watches as colorful magic gathers and swirls in dizzing circles. The portal opens a moment later and Zatanna steps out, looking exhausted and lightly singed. 
“Batman,” she greets, holding a white gun that looks like it belongs in an early sci-fi movie from the 60s. “The GIW is trying to arrest us. Constantine keeps burning their badges and documents so it shouldn’t be a problem, but they are determined to get this back. I wouldn’t be surprised if they came after you next. They’ve got some way of tracking things, but I didn’t have time to get any details before I had to leave.”
Bruce takes the gun from her hands carefully, looking it over with a sharp gaze. “Why would a ghost want to use a gun?”
“I don’t know. He had a variety of powers, too.”
“What does this do?”
“Shoots ice. He never let it go and nearly burned me alive for taking it before we subdued him.”
“We’ll keep it locked up,” Bruce promises. 
Zatanna sighs. It looks as though a physical weight fell off her shoulders. “Thanks. I’m going to head back to stop Constantine from getting into a fistfight with the GIW agents.”
She opens another portal with a waved hand and a muttered spell. Bruce is already walking away to set the gun down on a work station, so Duke is the one to wave Zatanna goodbye. 
By the time he reaches Bruce’s side, the gun is already dismantled, all pieces neatly set aside. Sticky notes denote which pieces go together and in what order. It looks the same as most guns, save for the aesthetic, but the heart of it is a glowing blue orb, large enough to cover the entirety of Bruce’s palm, and it brings a chill to the air.
Duke stares at it and feels his soulmark burn ice cold.
“Duke?”
It’s in his hands. He doesn’t remember reaching out to take it, but it’s in his hands. He can’t take his eyes off of it, cradling it gently and bringing it closer to his chest. 
It’s the same blue his soulmark once was. Before his soulmate began to fade, before every day became a waiting game to see how long his soulmate will last before they die. 
This has something to do with his soulmate. He’s sure of it. 
He won’t let anyone take it from him. 
“Duke. Give that to me.”
He doesn’t feel like he’s in his body. He’s detached, floating somewhere outside his body, puppeteering his limbs, making them move without feeling the motion. Shadows condense around his feet and Bruce takes a step back, wary. 
“Duke,” he says again, but Duke can’t find any words, can’t draw on his voice, can’t even look away from the bright, bright blue of the orb. It pulses lightly in his hand like a heartbeat. 
Bruce reaches a hand out. 
He’s pulled back by shadows before he can get close, and Duke holds the orb against his chest, right against his heart, and feels the cold seep into him. 
“Duke. I need you to look at me.” This time, Bruce’s voice has Batman’s growl in it, a heavy command that he can’t help but instinctively follow. He looks up and meets Bruce’s eyes, but he can’t focus. All his awareness is in his hands and the heartbeat of the glowing orb.
“I have to protect this,” Duke manages to whisper. “I… I think it’s alive.”
“Okay. Let’s get you to the medbay so you can sit down. We’ll figure this out, Duke.”
Bruce slowly, carefully, sets his hand on Duke’s shoulder. He keeps his attention away from the orb, so Duke allows it and lets Bruce guide him to the medbay and onto one of the medical cots. Bruce leaves him after a minute of quiet fussing, muttering about calling Zatanna.
Whatever. None of that matters when the heartbeat of the orb grows stronger, steadier, and Duke feels it match the beat of his own heart.
Time slips away from him. Distantly, he hears people move around the cave, speaking in low tones. A hand presses against his shoulder, warm, then moves away. 
The orb in his hand moves. 
Duke blinks slowly, then claws his way back to awareness, pushing past the haze that’s fallen over his mind. The orb turns over in his hand, then cracks right down the middle. The glow grows stronger, washing the medbay in blue light and a symbol appears on the orb.
It’s his soulmark. 
Later, he won’t be able to say why he did it. There were no thoughts, no reasonings, no explanations. Duke simply moved on instinct and lifted the orb up to his face and pressed a soft kiss against it. 
One moment, the orb was still.
The next, it had burst in a flash of light that blinded everyone in the Batcave, and then a thin, injured teenager had fallen into Duke’s lap. 
Hands immediately grab him, pulling him away from Duke. The teenager puts up no fight, eyes barely open, but he reaches for Duke weakly. On his wrist is the bright blue snowflake, the color strong and vivid. 
“That’s me soulmate,” Duke whispers as he watches Bruce and Tim set the boy down on another medical cot. 
“What?” Tim says, turning to face Duke, concern clear on his face. 
“That’s my soulmate,” he repeats, louder. Then, panicked, he pulls up his shirt enough to see his own soulmark; the color is still dull, weak, barely there, but it’s more blue that it has been in a while. He doesn’t need to say anything. Tim sees the dullness of his soulmark, looks at the boy, and puts the pieces together on his own.
“I’ll call Doc Thompkins,” he says, already moving to fix everything. Bruce remains where he is, making sure the boy is tucked in and breathing steadily before he returns to Duke. 
“Are you alright?”
Duke swallows roughly, unable to tear his eyes away from the boy. He’s pale and thin, as if he’d been starved, and there’s frost beginning to spread on the bedsheet from his fingers. “He’s my soulmate,” Duke manages to say. “He’s been dying for two years.”
Bruce’s eyes a hard, a determined light in them. “We’ll save him,” he promises. 
If anyone can, it’s Batman. 
If anyone can, it’s them, Batman and the Signal, and their entire network of family and friends. 
Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die all this time. Now, he’s going to save him.
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radiance1 · 8 months
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The Ghost Prince does not, under any circumstances, answer a summoning after it was made aware he existed. None know why he doesn't, some are bitter and hateful of it while others are thankful that it's one less bloodthirsty manic to deal with.
The Ghost King meanwhile hasn't been seen in multiple eons, so the magical community who wanted to use his power just, stopped, trying to summon him for a long time.
Most magic users knew that the Ghost Prince never answered a summons, and that the Ghost King just dropped off the radar.
So could you really blame Constantine for not taking it that seriously when some wannabe hotshot cultists try to summon both of them in the middle of a city to wreak havoc?
He'll give them some credit though. Points for doing it in broad daylight and actually being somewhat of a threat with not relying on just summoning the Ghost royalty and figuring out what to do from there.
The area they were in was somewhat destroyed, then the cultists manage to complete the summoning circle to summon both of them and Constantine, well he just light up a smoke.
It isn't going to work anyways so what does it matter?
...
Is that a fucking Ice cream truck he hears? Who the fuck is driving an Ice cream truck while their city is being under attacked with cultists trying to summon eldritch ghost royalty?
He'll give them some points for dedication, though.
Then he looked at the cultists and nearly had a goddamn heart attack to see that the summoning circle is actually fucking lighting up and working.
The Bat is so gonna give him a headache over this.
----
Danny Phantom, crown prince of the Infinite Realms. Does not answer summons.
For one, it is annoying as shit, whenever someone interrupts his day just to ask for infinite power (that he can't give), world domination (that he won't do) or infinite riches (which he also can't do).
It just got annoying being summoned all the time so. One day he just, well, no. And hey, it worked out well enough for him to not continue doing it.
Then he also learned that Pariah Dark is basically the same, after he got out the coffin and stopped trying to take over the world for whatever reason. He was actually a pretty swell guy!
He was just with him too, with him being not so swell at the time for making him go through lessons about Ghost etiquette, rules, stuff that's expected of him as the crown prince.
And don't even get him started on the engagement and marriage proposals.
Overall, he just wanted to find an excuse to leave. Then he felt the familiar suggestive pull of a summoning and, instead of rejection as he usually does in a second. He thought for a bit if he wanted to go with that or crown prince duties.
It was tempting, but dealing with cultists seemed worse than this so he was about to reject.
At least, before he heard an Ice cream truck playing in the background. He doesn't even know how the hell that popped up through the pull but by the gods has it been a while since he's had Ice cream.
So he answers and is gone with a pop.
Pariah Dark just stares for a good second or two, before breathing out and deciding to also answer. Fright Knight is just there, off to side, questioning what he should do now.
Danny wastes no time with the cultists on the other side and in fact, he pushes them out of the way and goes diving for that Ice cream truck he hears. Only to realize he doesn't, have any money on him.
Fuck.
Pariah Dark is less inclined to follow the rules imposed by humans like money, but he does know it can be important. Once in a while. Not that often, but it has its times.
So when he sees his adopted son being sad over being unable to pay for some kind of human delicacy, he digs around in his hair (yes, his hair.) and pulls out some money and puts it on the counter as payment.
The man inside the tiny vehicle had shrieked before getting what they wanted. Which is good. Fear is a good motivator, Pariah thinks.
Unknown to him, it wasn't out of fear (Well, mostly) but because the Ghost King placed down a coin made of pure, solid gold on his counter.
The two then go about their business in the human realm, completely forgetting about the fact that they were summoned here for something.
Constantine is both relieved and about to have an aneurysm at seeing Infinite Realm royalty only answering a summon because of Ice cream.
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grlscrushing · 27 days
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I gotta tell u I saw ur header (u have a pretty blog and post aesthetic!) and I read the name Danny and I was convinced its someone's english name and I told myself it's taehyun's and then I scrolled down and saw some of ur tags with ur name and went "oh." AHSJRJWJSS in my defence it's nearly 2 am 😭 loved ur nct dream texts! thank u for sharing them 🥰
THANK YOUUU I TRIED RLLY HARD FOR AN AESTHETIC but tbh i dont think it looks that aesthetic BUT STILL THANK YOUUU and LOL THATS SO FUNNY and also completely understandable as well and THANK YOU AGAIN FOR LIKING MY CONTENT im trying to get more stuff out as fast as i can💛💛🙏
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featherfur · 2 years
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Day #2 of asking for ur hand in marriage
If u get to 69 I’ll pay for the ring
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that-one-weird-cloud0 · 9 months
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Batman: You need a new costume. That one provides no protection.
Danny: oh I cant.
Batman: You won’t owe me for it.
Danny: no I literally cant. Like if i remove it it just returns.
Batman:………. Explain.
Danny: look *takes off glove and explodes it into pieces*
*glove reforms on his hand*
Danny: see? Can’t get rid of it. It’ll just heal itself.
Batfam: …
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bis-muth · 11 months
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Dude its Fucked Upnthat youre relbodging nope rn bc i just watched it for the first time last night wtf crazy good shit
god this is the first anon i've had in years lmaooooo glad you liked it dude!!
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