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#depressed danny
ghostgoing · 4 months
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Depressed Danny
Jason felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out.
Danny: my brain is so mean to me
He unlocked his phone and dialed.
“tell your brain it’s not allowed to be mean to my boyfriend”
“I tried that, it didn’t work.”
Danny sounded so exhausted. Jason wanted to wrap him in a blanket and make him hot chocolate and stop anything from ever hurting him. “babe-” Jason started softly. “ what if I shouldn’t have survived that accident? Maybe I should be dead. I feel like I’m already dead.”
“baby, no. I need you. Not allowed to die on me, remember?” Jason put his helmet on and flicked the Bluetooth on. Crime Alley could wait a couple hours.
“doesn’t matter though does it, not really. Even when I die, I’ll still have to be. I’m so tired Jay. ”
“I know baby. I know”
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cyber-geist · 1 month
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Was just thinking about the fic ‘Locked Out’ by aro_space on ao3 @pathetichoney , and like the vibe the characters gave off and made a little sketch spread based on four image prompts from Pinterest. The four on top are my art the four on bottom are not my art.
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atirosnor · 1 year
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Warning: second-hand self hate / depression & bullying.
"Psst, you're dead. Pass it on."
No one knew who started the impromptu game of telephone.
But Dash had seen the look on Fenton's face when it passed to him.
Meh. Probably just offended at being associated with ghosts.
Then there was the time he walked in on him having some glaring contest with the bathroom mirror in the dark.
His gaze flicked to him, softened slightly, glared when he caught a glimpse of the mirror again, then half grinned, empty eyes glaring at his shoes as he brushed past on his way out.
He'd probably imagined the faint glow to his eyes and the chill left on his red letterman.
The third Weird was…odd, at the least.
Foley had smart-mouthed him, so he shoved him into the lockers.
He ended up hitting badly; slammed into the corner and sharp handle / latch thing.
Dash didn't particularly care, but what was crazy was the way Fenton went off. Threw himself at Dash like a man possessed, in fact, Dash had thought he was possessed for a second there, with the way his eyes flared and his punches flew so fast they flashed.
That was the crazy thing. If the kid could fight like this, what was he doing getting locked in lockers, beaten up all the time; and don't think Dash didn't notice how terrible he was in gym.
Then, after his freinds pulled him off, the wildness had gone out of his eyes, they widened, then his lip curled as he glared down at his shoes, just like he had in the bathroom.
He let off on him mostly after that. If the kid hated himself that much, what was the point?
The reason he beat on him usually was his stupid smart-alecky uppity mouth. Needed to be taken down a notch.
Or so he told himself.
If it was just a façade, what was the point?
If the kid wanted to hate himself, Dash wouldn't be the reason to find him in some ditch one day.
<----▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎¤▪︎▪︎▪︎《◇》▪︎▪︎▪︎□▪︎▪︎▪︎《◇》▪︎▪︎▪︎¤▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎---->
If you write a fic on this premise, lmk. I'd like to read it!
Gosh, that came out darker than I expected. Meant to just write about hints of ghostliness...
Note: I know very well we don't particularly want to hate ourselves. Dash is very misinformed. If I add this to anything, though, I'll probably change it (for Dash's own depression issues). I just don't quite know narratively how to change it right now.
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kyle-mason · 1 year
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Chapters: 25/25 Fandom: Danny Phantom, Batman - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Danny Fenton & Damian Wayne, Danny Fenton & Bruce Wayne, Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton, Danny Fenton & Dick Grayson Characters: Danny Fenton, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne, Jazz Fenton, Dick Grayson, Duke Thomas, Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Talia al Ghul, Ra's al Ghul, Frostbite - Character, John Constantine, Justice League (DCU) Additional Tags: Damian Wayne and Danny Fenton are Brothers, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Protective Damian Wayne, Protective Danny Fenton, Danny Fenton is Danyal Al Ghul, Ghost King Danny Fenton, Cryptid Danny Fenton, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Dick Grayson is a Ray of Sunshine, Good siblings, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, no ships for once what a surprise, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better Summary:
Danyal Al Ghul faked his death to give his younger brother a better life and to give himself the life that he always wanted.
Damian Al Ghul was happy to learn his older brother was dead. No longer did he have to live under his shadow.
As the years go by, though, this changes for both of them.
Danny Fenton never got the life he always wanted.
Damian Wayne has realized he will never see his brother again.
That is, until the bats summon the Ghost King and soon two sunflowers finally start to grow the way they were meant to.
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
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AU of Gotham! Tim Drake! Danny where he doesn’t know the universe he was reincarnated into.
“Robin!” Batman barked. Tim sighed, loudly. Batman twitched.
“What is it, B?”
“Drills. Again.”
Tim rolled his eyes but moved to obey. Speaking to B these days was like speaking to a rather boorish caveman. Simple grunts and single word sentences. It didn't use to be like this but B was loosing his grip on his humanity and it’s Tim’s job to bring it back.
It’s hilarious because he’s the least human of them all. It was odd, juggling his duties as Danny Gotham, his responsibilities as Tim, and his workload as Bruce’s shiny new Robin. Somehow he made it work.
Yeah, sometimes B’s hands are heavy when they’re training. Sometimes he forgets Danny’s name (or at least his human name) and calls for Jason instead. Sometimes, he smells more like booze and less like Bruce.
Danny could handle it. Even if his core quivers with grief. He wished he didn’t have to, but he could and will handle whatever he needs to for his Knight to regain himself. But fuck, that doesn’t mean taking his self destructive habits lying down. He might be Tim right now, but as far as Batman knew, Tim was here on the orders of
“B.”
“Hm.”
Oh, a neutral grunt! I see we’ve upgraded to grunts instead of arm flapping! Holy detective, Batman! Aren’t I glad I learned to speak cave man? Wow! Tim mocked, in his head.
“You’re heading to bed when I’m done with this set,” Tim said.
“This case isn’t done,” Batman growled. Ancients, it was like speaking to a large chihuahua-toddler hybrid. All the barking, all the growling, and all the petulance of a child makes the entirety of how his Knight acted on a good day these days.
“That wasn’t a suggestion,” Tim shot back, sore arms and legs and everything working through the set. Thank the ancients for his healing, or else Tim might actually be dying.
“You don’t give me orders, Robin.”
“No, but Gotham does.” He would know, considering Tim was Gotham.
The head full of greasy- ew, take a shower, B!- hair swiveled towards him.
“You have a direct line to Gotham?”
Tim settled into the final forms of the night. “Gotham sent me. I thought we went over this.”
A beat of silence.
Batman returned to clacking away at the computer. Tim finished his set in relative peace. He moved to the cool down stretches while Batman sulked in front of his computer like a five year old.
“I’m done.” He said, crossing his arms.
“Hm.”
“That means you’re done, too.”
“I’m not tired.”
Tim rolled his eyes so hard, he thinks he saw the light. Oh, wait, that’s just Bruce’s last brain cell dying.
“You’re heading to bed. Good luck finding actual crime tomorrow, if you stay up.”
Batman stilled, because he knows Gotham would back Tim up on the threat. Considering the time sensitivity of some of these cases, Gotham’s anger is not something he could risk.
Tim patted himself on the back for effectively playing the good cop and the bad cop on his own. Except ACAB for life because they’re vigilantes and the GCPD as a whole (with exceptions) sucks ass.
He watched as Batman- as Bruce- reluctantly powered down the Bat-Computer. As he stood up, Tim wrinkled his nose.
“Never mind. You take a shower first. I’ll text Alfred.”
“Not necessary.”
“Okay, then you can explain to Gotham why you’re traipsing through his city looking a starved rat and smelling like you took a joy ride in Killer Croc’s excrement. Oh, wait.” Tim snapped, just about done being patient today. Tim whipped out his phone, texting Alfred with one hand and pointing towards the staircase with the other.
“Shower above ground, you weird little mole rat. No cave water for you.”
Bruce makes a weird offended grunt.
“I literally don’t care if you have to walk up to your room to shower in your boxers, B. Most of Gotham’s people don’t have access to a shower, let alone a million dollar bathroom. Fucking use your actual bathroom instead of hosing off.”
And with that, Batman and Bruce Wayne moved to the tune of a pre-teen, who was also, unknowingly to him, the spirit of his City.
——
“Go home.”
Tim smiled sweetly. Bruce paled. The scary, Gotham loved child patted Bruce’s hand as he sat beside Bruce’s bed.
“Sleep, before I make you.”
Bruce slammed his eyelids shut, anything to not look at Tim’s malicious looking eyes, and allowed himself- nay, forced himself- to rest for the first time in weeks since Jason died.
As Bruce’s dumb self drifted off to dreamland, Tim muttered, “Wuss.”
He settled himself into the chair, napping lightly to make sure Bruce doesn’t sneak out to work when he’s gone.
Alfred snapped a quick picture.
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papiliomame · 9 months
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Demon of Whispering
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Without supportsystem and experiencing hate from his family, friends and town towards his ghost-half while keeping it secret, Danny decided to run away. Too bad, his inner demon will always follow him wherever he goes...
Inspired by the works of Teo Skaffa and the videogame "Fran Bow" by Killmonday Games AB.
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rbv3rstappen · 5 months
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It’s all to much for little Lando Norris
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flamingpudding · 6 months
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Fictober23 Prompt: 22 - "Who takes care of you?"
Fandom: DPxDC
Rating: T
Warnings: -
A/N: Originally Cass was supposed to be the one picking up Danny... but I was not confident enough in that deleted part and so Dick's part ended up getting changed and being the last one instead.
Damian blinked at the child sitting at the playpen of the rescued kittens. He was sure there hadn't been anyone before besides this was a restricted area. Only volunteers and the actual workers of the animal shelter were allowed here. He looked around the area, hoping to see someone that could identify as the child's guardian but he was alone in the room with the child and kittens.
"How did you get in here?" He bluntly asked but the child was apparently ignoring him. The boy's back was turned to him and Damian's eyes narrowed. The child was wearing a slightly oversized NASA shirt as well as ratty looking shorts. He had black hair that appeared to be slightly unkempt with a length just enough to prevent Damian from seeing the child's eyes. He stepped over the knee high kitten fence towards the child but then stopped.
The boy was holding one of their smallest kittens they had rescued two days ago. The kitten had refused any milk or food they had offered it. Damian had planned to try and convince it to eat something before the workers would be forced to attempt force feeding. But the boy was holding it and one of the milk bottles was only used for the youngest of kittens. It was eating.
The small child was mumbling something to the kitten and Damian believed he picked up some of the words being: 'You're safe now.', 'I know it hurts but you gotta eat.', 'Being lost is always scary.', 'I am sure everyone is worried.'.
Under normal circumstances Damian would be suspicious of this boy but right now he was more relieved that the little one they all had been worried about was finally eating something. He would have to thank this little boy and his guardian. Maybe the boy even planned to give that little kitten a home with him.
With a small fond smile Damian decided to let the boy be and turned to feet the other kittens that were already excitingly climbing up his leg for their meal in his hands. He hadn't watched the child for less than five minutes but when he turned back to ask that child about his guardian.
The boy was gone. The feeding bottle was propped onto the fence in a way that allowed the little kittens to still feed off it. It was like the boy had never been there. Damian hadn't heard the door of the room open and close either. Nor the typical rustling of clothes when one stands up. He narrowed his eyes at the spot where the child had been.
Even when asking the other volunteers and workers. No one else appeared to have seen the child he had described to them.
—-
Tim blinked at the boy that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Or maybe Tim had been too tired to realize that he had sat down into a booth that was already taken when he had ordered his coffee. The child didn't appear to pay him any mind, to focus on a piece of paper they were drawing on with green crayons.
Tim looked around the coffee shop trying to spot who this child belonged to but found no one. Now the most responsible thing would probably be to alert one of the store workers about a possible abandoned child, get in contact with the authorities and make sure the child would be returned to his rightful guardians or parents.
The problem was, Tim was sleep deprived and had his own fair share of abandoned child issues as well as having seen enough corrupted authorities trafficking children like that.
"Hey there, what are you doing?" He asked the kid instead, black shaggy hair hung into the kids eyes and the head moved only so slightly indicating that the child had heard him.
"Drawing a blueprint." The boy mumbled and Tim arched an eyebrow.
"With crayons?"
"This is the only shop that gave me this for free so I wouldn't have to attempt to steal a pen and paper."
Tim hummed studying the boy more closely and his drawing more closely now. He arched an eyebrow when among the barely readable scribes he noticed something that looked a lot like a mathematical equation.
Letting his eyes wander around the store once more before resting them on the child Tim thought about it. A child seemingly alone in a coffee shop, the only place according to the kid that had willingly given him paper and crayons to draw with. The drawing being a 'blueprint' for something and among the scribbles were some actual calculations that might make sense. He would need to take a closer look to really judge that.
"Don't you have things like that at home?"
Before he could receive an answer Tim's number got called out, telling him that his order was ready. Glancing at the kid he got up to quickly retrieve it. But when he turned back to the table to continue questioning the child he found the booth empty with no indication that anyone had been there before.
Partially Tim thought his mind might have hallucinated the boy in his sleep deprived state but a broken piece of green crayon left on the floor by the place where the boy had sat was his indication that he hadn't. Strangely enough, when he tried to check for video evidence, Tim found that all surveillance videos were corrupted.
—-
Jason was just done dealing with this drug deal when he heard rustling behind some of the warehouse crates. Instinctively he pulled out his gun. It appeared like one of these goons tried to sneak away. Well not on his watch.
But once he had silently made his way over to the crates he did not find a left over underling like he expected. No when he kicked the crate and pointed his gun it was not a grown ass man trying to hide from Red Hoods wrath, no a goddamn child rolled out of the crate clutching some metal pieces and electric cables to his chest.
"Fuck!" His first thought was that these assholes he had just beat up were not only trafficking drugs but also children, it made him want to beat the ever living daylight out of them a second time. But then the child's head tilted ever so slightly, eyes covered by his shaggy looking hair but Jason thought he saw blue peeking out between the strands of hair.
"Shit." He cursed once more hurrying to put his gun away so as not to scare the kid, before he crouched in front of the boy. "Hey there, you okay?"
His hands hovered above the boy's shoulders, close enough to catch the kid should he fall over but not too close to make the boy feel threatened. Looking the kid up and down, Jason tried to see if there were any injuries on the boy.
"No! The circuit board I found is now cracked! What a waste!" The boy held up a clearly cracked and broken piece of electronics with one hand, his other arm was still clutching some cables and metal to his chest.
Not the reaction he was expecting but Jason could find a way to roll with it. "Bummer huh? Want me to show you a place where we could get a perfectly good one?"
The boy was grumbling something inaudible and threw the piece of broken electronics to the side, instead picking up something else that had rolled out with the boy from the crate. Jason watched how the boy, clearly ignoring his question, picked up what looked like a piece of surveillance equipment and inspected it.
"I guess that thing will do. No one will miss it if one of them is gone, right?"
"One of them?" Jason questioned looking at the little transmitter in the kids hands. The boy appeared to finally pay attention to him, turning his head ever so lightly up to look at Jasons. "Yea there are a bunch of these in all the boxes."
He narrowed his eyes and looked over his shoulder and shouted at his men. "HEY! Get someone to look at this stuff! They bugged the place!"
When he turned back towards the boy he found kid gone. Jason blinked in disbelief, his hands which had been hovering over the kids shoulder were now above an empty spot.
"Where the fuck…?!" He stood looking around the warehouse and around all the boxes and crates. But the kid was nowhere to be found. He cursed several times and had his men looking in the surrounding area but there was no trace of the child.
All that was left from his encounter with he child was that piece of broken electronic the kid had thrown to the side. Not even his helmet had retained any footage. The video one loaded onto his laptop to review it, turned out to be corrupted. So now he couldn't even print out a picture or something of the boy.
By now the meetings of his siblings with a small black haired boy had made the rounds in their family. While Damian, Tim and Jason appeared to have had the biggest meetings with the child they weren't the only ones. Once the topic has come up, Steph, Duke and even Cass shared small stories of having met a child with the same description.
Dick had then pouted a little, lamenting that he was the only one that hadn't gotten to meet this strange kid that appeared out of nowhere and then also disappeared like he never had been there. His siblings had only stared at him unimpressed.
Well either way it looked like Dick was getting his wish after all. If Damian hadn't mentioned what the kid was wearing and Jason hadn't added that the kid appeared to be collecting electronics Dick might have overlooked it when he had jumped from roof to roof.
But as it was he caught a little boy trying to drag an old washing machine tied with rope into an empty building. It had made Dick pause and stare at the situation long enough to realize that the kid fit the description his siblings had given him before perfectly.
On instinct he wanted to jump down and talk with the little bugger but he was also curious of what the boy was doing so he watched a little more and he was quite impressed. The child must possess some strength because after a while the kid had dragged the washing machine into the building.
Spotting an open window Dick decided to sneak in that way to continue to observe. Once in though he blinked at what he saw. The kid had built a lab out of scrap metal. There was also something that looked like an arch the boy was clearly working on but holy moly. Tim probably wasn't too far off with his boy genius on the run theory.
But looking around more Dick also noticed that the place did not look lived in. Sure there was this giant self made lab area but everything else looked very much abandoned. He glanced around and snuck into another area finding a mattress, bedding and a backpack with a thermos as well as a couple of packs of snacks but no actual food.
Dick frowned at this. Even if the boy was a child genius, this was no way to life for someone his age. He looked over his shoulder towards the entrance of the area he was in. In the distance he could hear metal clanging. Looks like the kid was already working on dismantling the washing machine he had dragged in.
He reached out to the backpack, looking into it carefully but found nothing but a second set of spare clothes and what looked like an old self made flip phone. He should feel guilty but he wanted to make sure of things, so Dick flipped the phone open, checking if it was on. What greeted him was the image of a teenage boy that held similarities to the child getting hugged by what appeared to be the teenager's friends with a red haired girl behind them.
Frowning more, dick decided enough was enough. He openly walked to the lap area where the child was currently sticking his head into the washing drum. "Hey there kid!"
He winced hearing how the boy apparently banged his head on something and let out a storm of curses that would probably make Jason proud or all of his siblings frown. Leaning over the washing machine he smiled at the kid as the boy glared up at him rubbing his forehead. Ouch there really was a bump forming. He will ice it later.
"You're one of Gotham's vigilantes, Nightwing." The kid muttered but Dick caught the hand sneaking to the side reaching for a heavy looking wrench.
"That I am and you're a little kid working in a self made lab. Where are your parents and or guardian?"
"Don't have any here." The kid was now full on glaring at him. Why was he getting the not as friendly treatment? Sure that's better than the way his siblings had described the boy ignoring them but he hadn't done anything bad to the kid yet.
"If you don't have any, who takes care of you?" He then asked, still all smiles and friendly despite internally being very worried about this child's wellbeing.
"I take care of myself. I am not doing anything illegally. Everything I got here was thrown away by other people! You can't arrest me!" The boy hissed and hadn't Jason and Cass said they saw the child's eyes being blue? Why did he just see green peek through the bangs of the kid?
"Hey, hey, hey! I am not here to arrest anyone! I promise!" He held his hands up but the boy still glared at him. "But if you are alone here, you know I can't just let you be right?"
"No, you can!" The boy sprang up holding the wrench like a weapon in front of him. "I am perfectly fine on my own and working on a way back home! You can just leave me alone and act like you never saw me!"
Dick shook his head. The boy appeared to be stubborn and set on not having anyone interfere with whatever he was building. But Dick, in good consciousness, couldn't just leave like nothing was going on. His siblings had also voiced worry for this child. So he was going to try to negotiate something with the kid, and if that didn't work… Well Dick could always pull a Bruce and bring the kid home and into his care anyway. "Sorry little guy. No can do, but if you tell me more about your situation maybe I can help you get home?"
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starlightshore · 8 months
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Lingering Spirits - A Danny Phantom AU where Danny moves to Amity 2 years after the Portal Incident. Combo of Alicia Adoption (Farmboy AU) + Nobody Knows AU
A more serious/ Horror take on the AUs
Hoof, starting on a morbid foot. Please note that it's intentional that Sam is romanticizing death and has over-blown anti-human feelings. they're a depressed teenager! they're going through it and they're coping the only way they know how. They'll learn to grow more healthy world views and ways of dealing with their depression with time. Please don't assume I'm condoning their world-view lol.
Anyway on a lighter note, I wanted Sam and Tucker to look different than my usual AU stuff in this AU, so I hope you guys like the design change!
Updates will be infrequent as I'm pretty busy. However, I did this on a team call day so I was kind of productive in my other projects haha!
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coralnoodle · 2 months
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im so excited to cosplay this trans disaster
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mokulule · 1 year
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The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached 1
So figured I could show what else I am working on aside from Salt in the Bones with @clockwayswrites. I still blame Clock for this though, they are way too fun to brainstorm with, and I have too many WIPs already. Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence
Danny was sick and tired of this city, this entire dimension in fact. And this vigilante family, or whatever they were, were more dogged in their pursuit of him than the GIW or his parents had ever been - all this for a few gizmos.
Danny rolled his eyes and ducked a kick from the most violent midget since Youngblood.
Seriously he was just trying to build a portal home, and it wasn’t like he was hurting anyone. He’d mostly stolen from villains anyway! And Wayne industries was like a multibillion dollar company, they shouldn’t miss a few scraps or prototypes. It would hardly put a dent in their budget.
Midget was back on his feet and had now drawn a freaking sword. Yeah, this was it, Danny needed to leave before bigger and battier arrived. He faked left but then spun right around the probably actual literal kid with the real sword, jumped to the railing and kicked off towards the next rooftop. Ignoring gravity’s pull for a just a couple of seconds was the only reason he landed safely on the other roof.
He felt a moment of worry that the kid would try following him and glanced back, but the child was fuming in safety on the other side, having lost that grappling gun thing he used earlier in the chase, it seemed Danny was safe for now. The kids mouth was moving, probably talking to more of the heroes.
He wasn’t gonna be safe for long, but Danny allowed himself a moment to breathe in relief. Suddenly his breath stuck coldly in his throat and he froze. Impossible! The shades of this city barely tickled his throat, he hadn’t met anything that would even halfway classify as a ghost to his senses. Urgency was like a cold hand around his throat, a desperate longing hummed in his core as he slowly spun trying to get a sense of where - he only managed to see a blur of red before a heavy weight knocked into him slamming him to the ground. The cold mist in his throat was pushed out in a pained oof, and his head bounced first on one thing then another, but that didn’t matter because his core was singing; close, not alone, hug!
Danny’s head spun, his whole body felt pained and smushed. A man, no a freaking tank, was laying on top of him. Body armor dug into his ribs, probably something there was bent or broken and he felt certain that ominous red helmet had left a mark where it hit his forehead. Also his hair felt a bit wet beneath him. Yet that didn’t matter because he was so overwhelmed, warm with hands and feet tingling from the humming joy in his chest. Hug! His core sang again.
Somewhere in the fog in his head he recognized this was no hug, but he hurt, his head was spinning, and he was not alone and he was happy and wasn’t that more important than a bit of pain? Oo o oO
Jason was unsure what was going on.
He’d managed to tackle the elusive thief Dick had so “creatively” nicknamed the Ghost for his ability to go invisible and the inability for them to land a decent hit on him. In fact if he hadn’t seen footage from previous run-ins with the man, Jason would have thought they wildly exaggerated his skills.
After all the man had frozen up strangely when Jason pulled himself onto the rooftop as he listened only with half an ear to the demon brat angrily grumbling in the comms, that he would have had him had he not been a coward who ran away all the time. Their thief was slowly turning around as if looking for something, the green glass of his goggles reflected in the moonlight and for a moment gave the illusion they were glowing.
Jason had not wasted a moment, got to his feet, crossed the distance in a mere three large steps before he crashed into the man - so, he’d halfway expected the man to move and therefore hadn’t prepared to soften another person’s landing. His helmet hit the shorter man’s forehead and his head rebounded and hit the roof with a sound that made Jason internally wince. The next moment there was a snapping sound and a gasp as the man’s ribcage was caught between the roof and Jason - he really wore no armor, just that thin hoodie. No matter what B said about the danger of the stolen items, Jason was really starting to doubt they had a budding super villain on hand.
He immediately made a move to get up, but stopped, a strange feeling of something overtaking him. It took a moment for him to discern because of the dichotomy, but it was… happiness? What the fuck, it wasn’t his emotions, that made no sense. The pits had only ever sent him rage and in rare moments gruesome satisfaction. This was joy, he felt almost like he was floating caught in a wave at the beach, weightless, happy, warm in the sun. He shook his head pushing the foreign emotions away like he would the pit and focused on his dazed perp.
There was something wet glistening in his unruly black hair.
“Fuck,” Jason muttered, thankfully too low for the helmet to project, but loud enough that he got a breathless but insistent “report” back from Bruce where he was clearly hurrying toward their destination.
“I knocked the Ghost down, he’s bleeding from a head wound,” he muttered at his comms as he pulled the goggles up to get a look his eyes to check for signs of concussion, but immediately froze. The goggles, he’d thought it was a trick of the light earlier, but no, his eyes were glowing - bright and green and just a shade lighter than the Lazarus pits. A shudder ran cold down his back. Somehow the foreign emotions were coming from him, Jason was sure of it, but it explained absolutely nothing! Unrestrained joy? Was this some kind of shock response?
More footsteps landed on the roof and Jason didn’t need to look to know it was Bruce with the Brat along for the ride. He finally remembered he’d been trying to get off the other man at some point.
Oo o oO
No, no, no, Danny’s core protested when the other ghost moved away, and he clutched onto what he could grab, which he dazedly recognized as a very nicely muscled arm. The other arm, because human shaped ghosts have two arms (good job Danny), supported Danny by holding onto one of his arms and that was good. Getting upright gave him the worst moment of vertigo, and his breath whooshed out of him. His legs were like jello and didn’t support him, but that didn’t matter, because his new friend had a good firm grip, could probably even hold him up entirely without Danny clutching his arm, good friend, mine. He butted his head into his chest because that was what he could reach and just leaned there. His core hummed so happily he felt like he’d almost shake apart.
Friend.
Mine
Good friend
Why no response?…
Hello? Danny was confused, why wasn’t he getting a response. Also why did his head and chest hurt so bad?
“Tt, what is the matter with him?”
The question, delivered in a haughty voice was like a bucket of ice water on his senses. He gasped and pushed away from where he’d been nuzzling some guy’s chest! Alarmed, he stumbled, but dodged the hands reaching for him, to support him, to catch him, he wasn’t sure. There was the big bat and the midget and the tank in the red helmet; the guy who felt like a ghost and he just wanted nothing more than to go back to him, and- Danny shuddered taking another step back, his face was hot and flaming red right now. This was, this was- he couldn’t-
Hiding his powers be damned; he sunk through the roof.
So embarrassing! He closed his eyes fighting tears as he sank down down down, all the way into the ground where they for sure couldn’t follow him. All the while his insides screamed, because he didn’t want to be lonely anymore. Fuck, he just wanted to go home.
He was so sick and tired of this city.
So... yeah hope you enjoyed this, now I can reveal why I blame Clock, they said and I quote "Danny, like a cat with catnip suddenly" and now Danny is a cat, what can you do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Jason's gonna have to lure this feral ghost in slowly with food and hugs.
edited with link to the next part:next Masterpost where you can subscribe: link
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trappednyourheart · 2 days
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The wrong DNA test
( what if, Sheila wasn't really Jason's mother? The system is already corrupted, then what about the test?).
A huge brawl containing every rogue had started at the time of Halloween, causing the people from downtown to fled there home's as joker had clownized the whole neighborhood with his goon's.
Every bats had taken to groups to take out the three parts of Gotham's as the rogue's had started to make alliances, some had lasted quite long while had conflicts, and causing a big damage to Arkham asylum,
It didn't take long before they captured all of them, none of the bats questions as they observed Jason glowing green eyes starting to flick, they thought it was the pit again, growing wary of the cooperation, but Crime alley was involved and that mean business to Red hood's turf.
Catherine todd love her son as her own even if not biological, Jason knew that. But her thing with drugs couldn't make her stop.
Sometimes after that, they could hear Jason humming a tune,a nice melody from Damian's statement saying that Jason muttered to him “ lullaby” as Jason continued to read his book, maybe it could be from Catherine,
they knew how Jason's past with Catherine todd, his mom even if not related, Catherine loves her son like her own kid but her doing drugs and... overdosing couldn't be stop.
Maybe Jason just remembered his mother maybe reminiscing atleast something familiar...even if it was a bad time.
Jason had constantly have been hearing a woman's? Man's? Voice, singing him a lullaby...it soothing, like as if he known and loved this melody...and that's where the dreams kept coming, there was a person, giving him kisses, Talkin to him stories, singing him lullabies and soothing him, he could dream that he was actually a baby, a baby from a normal couple, well don't count the luxurious baby room.
Jason had took out a conspiracies why he was getting this dreams, ( he swears he's not becoming Tim) and voices, maybe like a misshapen memories from the pits of victims? No it's to peaceful for that, maybe magic? He already contacted Constantine but surely hang up after knowing who it was-
Just how is he getting this dreams? Unless it wasn't.... So he proved again his point, he started a DNA test, again but none had records...of Sheila being his biological mother...that was weird, last time he had a test was from the time as robin..and before his-
So he went to that hospital who had said where Sheila had given birth to him, and most of shock is that no one knows a mother giving birth named Sheila haywood but had a document of a baby, of one Jason jay nightingale, the most believing part was that it's the same day he was born in.
His mother, Daniel F. Nightingale was said to be trans as the doctor who help his mother safely delivered him, And saying that his mother loved him,
one Sheila Haywood had the constant trick to get him and taken him as his own, because his mother's family was a wealthy one they practically sold him to her.
Jason had thought that maybe his mother's family never wanted him to have a son with a man from Gotham's crime alley.
Meanwhile Danny had just been YEETED to the DC universe before the start of Batman's justice thing and had been adopted by a very wealthy fruit loops couple as there kid, so he stayed as the couples daughter even pretending, because he owed ghost writer a favor for the last time, and as DC universe exist so it's story, and one thing for sure the child he had to give birth in this universe has a very complicated fate,
he did the one night stand from his supposed friend Willis Todd? He had to befriend him as Dalia F. nightingale the supposed Wealthy daughter who fell in love with a peasant trope, and gotten pregnant making it a scandal, and reaching to his ‘parents’ circle and getting that drama.
But he never thought he would care for his child, his little jay, his ghost side would purr in delight when they held Jason, he was a very hard sucker especially from his pacifier or his breast, it's so weird being in a women body,
but the way his ‘parents’ sold his son to the women who was supposed to get his son killed and being revived by cheap parody ass of ectoplasm.
He went feral, he had an argument to his ‘parents’ but all fell deaf ears, he couldn't find his son in one of the hotels nearby where that BXtch was.
And that time was where his part of the script was fulfilled, ghost writer already took him, both sides of his, were angry.
He. will. get. his. baby. back.
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DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #3
(I'm feeling kinda angsty today, I guess. If there's a fic/prompt like this already tho, please link me. 👀)
next →
Reaper of Heroes
Once crowned as the High Ghost King of the Infinite Realms, Danny gains some grim reaper-like abilities and dominion over a specific subset of souls.
Heroes.
People who don masks and capes to protect the innocent from those who would harm them, just like he once did in the beginning of his existence as a halfa. He's was horrified by the responsibility but is eventually resigned to it. Due to bittersweet nostalgia, he quickly grows fond of the heroes that rose up after he took the throne and packed away the suit. Responsible he may be for the collection of their souls, but with council from Clockwork and the Ghost of Time's knowledge of the most desired paths, sometimes he'll just... let a soul slip through his fingers and return to it's vessel before it's chain is completely severed. He doesn't care that the observants complain constantly about those particular actions. If there's still room for a soul to do good for the better of everyone else, they can hardly stop him from straying from their plans. Much less with him as their king and protection as his obsession.
Only he is responsible for the reaping of these specific souls, unless delegated to one of the more common reapers at his command of course. Sometimes he follows his favorite heroes around, invisible to them unless he wishes them to see him or they're very close to death's door. He's trailed them so closely that some heroes have reported seeing a kind but sad looking man with white hair and aurora green eyes when they've nearly been pushed past the limits of their mortal bodies.
Ones who have passed through the veil but came back report vague memories of a similar sort; a kind man who cradled the very essence of their being with hands so gentle it's worth a few awe filled tears once he released them back amongst the living. The JL give him the moniker Grim, for his black and white coloring and for the shadowy scythe he carries not as a weapon but more like a key that unlocks the chain that binds them to their flesh. He never speaks to any of the heroes he interacts with tho. Always silent with a calculating, but sorrowful gaze.
At least until now.
When he appears before a bruised and beaten, young Jason Todd with whisper soft words in his ear as he comforted the concussed boy about to be killed in a fiery inferno at the hands of Gotham's mad clown.
As the explosion comes to a close, an unseen figure cradles the star-like light of a soul close to his chest as he wept and apologized for being unable to save the young soul from such a painful end but was thankful the poor boy this light belonged to could feel it no longer.
What do you think? Angsty enough? I might have a little more to add to this but I'm gonna stop for now. I injured my hand yesterday, so it hurts to type for too long.
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shower-phantom-ideas · 5 months
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Spent 30 minutes trying to figure out how to start this post so now im just doing it sorry
Phantom gets called cat like by the other heros all the time. Hell some of the league members have even joined in after he met them. Fuck you superman how dare you out his purring
Problem is his new power he started developing. Telekinesis. And it’s very hard to control. Now if he looses focus he starts knocking stuff off shelves or off tables.
Frostbite told him he would keep developing powers till his ghost side was grown but he thought it was done. How many more powers does he need!!!!
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glassroo · 6 months
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he has given me permanent brain damage
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The Bar
Dick looked over as a familiar face loomed over his table. Tall and built, one would think he was he bouncer instead of the bartender if it weren’t for towel around his neck.
It was hard to ignore the almost disappointed look Danny sent his way each night.
It was reminiscent of Alfred in a way, so sad. It made Dick grimace as he downed his last shot.
“You know, you only got one liver in there Dick? As much as I love the amount of dollars you throw my way, this isn’t healthy.”
“Real subtle, Danzzo.. real subtle. Can I get a refill?”
Danny threw down his towel.
“No.”
“No?”
“Dick.. it a quarter till four.. the bar closed down like three hours ago.”
Dick glanced at the clock on the wall, the hands danced as he tried to read the time to the point that he had to give up before his head split.
“Shit.. I guess it is. Sorry about that man I must’ve dosed for a bit.”
Danny sighed as he sat down beside him.
Uh oh, time for the weekly spiel.
“Richard.. look at me. I’m worried here, and this is coming from a guy who’s whole job is to feed people’s addictions. This is getting out of hand.. you’re getting out of hand. How often do we have this talk? How often do I have to stay up just so I can be sure that you are at least sober enough that I can send you home without worrying that the next time I hear about you is on an obituary?”
Danny sighed as he pulled at his hair,
“This used to be a once or twice a month thing man! You would come in, drink and shoot the shit about work and the family. I know ever since the.. accident. Life has been hard to process. Heaven forbid anyone who has to go through that.”
“let me grieve in fucking peace..”
“THIS ISN’T GRIEVING! This is drowning out your emotions so that you don’t have to feel and one of these days you’re not going to get back up and I-”
Danny took a second to center himself and Dick almost felt sad when he did.
Sometimes it felt like Danny was the only person who gave a shit anymore.
Dick scoffed at the thought as he fiddled with the empty shot, he tried to not let the guilt set in.
It was always this same song and dance. Yet Danny didn’t even have the nerve to say it to his face.
“I’m just saying that Jason wouldn’t want you to join him so soon man. “
Danny’s eyes finally left that place that they always seemed to focus on over his shoulder before he pinned Dick with a look of pity.
“Trust me, I would probably know more than you think..”
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