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starry-bi-sky · 22 days

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Stuck in the middle of a forest made of

Flesh and bones and they're all scared of

A lost little boy who has lost his heart

Fear's not enough, they have to

Tear him apart —-------

There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well:

He’s adopted.

He can’t remember anything else before that.

‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents.

What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill.

When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.

(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.)

The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.

It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one.

The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself.

His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.

(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.)

(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.)

They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.

(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)

Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe.

He turned back around and went inside.

—-------

Where do we go

When the river's running slow

Where do we run

When the cats kill one by one

—------

One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.

He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal.

It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking.

He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter.

Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind.

(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)

After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous.

He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.

—------

Hazel beneath our claws

While we wait for cerulean to cry

Unsettled ticks run through time

Enough for the hunt to go awry

—-----

There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own.

He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t.

Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward.

(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”)

(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)

He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell.

A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his.

He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it.

His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.

Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.

—-------

Harpy hare

Where have you buried all your children?

Tell me so I say

—-------

When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now.

Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.

He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.

Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own.

(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)

(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)

(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)

—--------------

It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders

And they will never

Hear me here listen to croons and a calling

I'll tell them all the

Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow

Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare

—-------

More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother.

Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten.

His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands.

They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely.

It is a fast dream.

His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.

His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods.

The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him.

The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal.

His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train.

(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.)

—---

She can't keep them all safe

They will die and be afraid

Mother, tell me so I say

(Mother, tell me so I say)

—-------

When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again.

The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person.

(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.)

(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)

Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird.

(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)

—------

Seeker, do you ever come to wonder

If what you're looking for is within where you hold

Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path

You'll soon forget

Home

—---------

When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is.

When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.

‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off.

He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.

He ends up calling himself Phantom.

(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.)

----------

Home is where we are

Home is where you are

Home is where I am

-----------------

Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #danyal al ghul au #amnesiac danyal al ghul au #songs in order of the album: the hartebeest / harpy hare / and the hound / neath the grove is a heart #musician danny has my heart and soul #yes this danyal IS an alternative danny from the other au. an au where things were a little better :) but still sucks #implied good mom talia al ghul #danyal is a momma's boy send tweet #dpxdc ficlet #dpxdc prompts #dp x dc au #dp x dc fanfic #danyal is sTILL five years older than damian in this au #no beta no edits we die like danny fenton #poc danny fentons #i didnt know where to end this :(( i was gonna go on but i blanked. i thought about going into his relationships with his rogues and so on.#but that felt too much like trying to just increase the word count rather than actually writing?? if that makes sense #ugh im gonna have forgotten to include things and im gonna be kicking myself later #morally ambiguous danny whoo! we love to see it #since this was just for fun it doesnt really go into it all that much other than like. it happens. and that danny realizes he's dangerous #phantom in a hazmat suit? nah phantom looking like an assassin >:].#danyal al ghul with damian and his mom: 🥰🌸✨#danyal al ghul with everyone else: 👹🔪#am i heavily implying that clockwork had smth to do with Danyal’s amnesia and appearance by the cabin? 👀 maybe #not enough danyal al ghul aus where him being an assassin actually. has some kind of affect on him

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necr0mancers · 8 months

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cal loses the bet btw

#star wars #jedi fallen order #nightsister merrin #merrin #cal kestis #merrical #jedi survivor #so sorry #i have gotten pretty busy #but i haven’t forgotten ab the andor prompts i swear #here is this VERY rough sketch for now

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minty364 · 2 days

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DPXDC Prompt #58 Part 3

Gotham Academy High School was the sort of school where almost everyone was elite in some way or another. Some of them were from old money like Damian who held himself up to a very high standard in his academics and was the top of the class. Others from new money like Dash and the rest of his cohorts became very hateful of somebody like Danny who was given a scholarship by Bruce Wayne, in their eyes Danny was taking advantage of Damian not even knowing that Damian approached Danny for companionship two years ago.

This also meant that everyone including the teachers would compare Danny and Damian to each other even though they weren’t brothers. That didn’t matter though as Danny was associated with them so that was all the reason they needed.

Danny groaned as he sunk into the seat next to Damian. The lunchroom was filled with chatting students and Danny was glad he shared the next class with Damian, which happened to be English. Dash never bothered Danny when Damian was around, probably because Damian had threatened the jock. How he was threatened Danny didn’t know, Damian never told him what happened and he was a little scared to ask.

The guy hadn’t stopped harassing Danny since he and Jazz transferred a couple years ago. The school year had barely begun and Dash had made Danny his primary target like he was making up for lost time over the summer. Danny sighed as he dropped his paper bagged lunch on the table with a little plop. Jazz had packed for him this morning hopefully before his parents arrived and contaminated the entire kitchen.

“Dash again?” his sister asked across the table, she was seated next to Tim.

“I was paired against him in dodgeball again,” Danny lamented, his head resting on his arms that were crossed on the table.

“Danny, could you just talk to Mr. Lancer or something?” Jazz asked before she took a bite from her sandwich.

Danny sighed again and unpacked his lunch, “I have but no one will listen! They all act like I’m lying or something.” The teachers at this school probably wouldn’t listen to a charity case like him. Dash was a football player and had plans to become captain of the team. Everyone at the school loved Dash and it was precisely why everyone except maybe the four students at the table they were seated looked down and sometimes even bullied Danny.

Danny ignored it all eventually, it was better just to let the jock tire himself out.

Once Danny and Damian finished eating they made their way to English. Luckily it was easy to carry the material for a class that only required a small binder and whatever book they were reading, in this case it was ‘gone with the wind’. Danny didn’t really care about reading old literature like this but he did what he had to maintain the grades he had. He’d endure anything, even Dash’s bullying, to become an astronaut.

Danny could hardly concentrate today through his afternoon classes. For some reason he had a bad feeling that something was going to happen. He tried his best to ignore it, he was probably just tired or something. Soon the school day was out and Danny packed up whatever homework he had for the day and headed outside to wait with Jazz. Damian and Tim were probably wrapping up their classes. Tim had an AP class that ran an extra 30 minutes and Damian’s last class was art, they were doing a painting and it wasn’t unusual for Damian to finish up what he was working on as he found out over the last few years that he enjoyed painting.

“… Do you think it’ll work?” Jazz asked a hint of hesitation in her voice. Danny knew she was talking about the portal, the both of them had talked about it before. Danny glanced over at his sister, he could tell she was having trouble sleeping lately, her face looked tired and her posture was stiff with her arms crossed in front of her. Both of them had anxiety about the possibilities the portal possessed, and they were especially worried that their parents wouldn’t take it well if the portal didn’t work.

He was equally concerned that it would work. “I hope not…” he said eventually. It was something that brought the siblings closer as the whole of their family fell apart. How their parents managed to pull off getting the funding in the first place seemed to be a miracle. Everyone called their parents crazy and dismissed all of their science as ludicrous garbage.

Danny wondered how they even managed to stay under Batman's radar, he thought that something like this would be cause for the vigilante to look into it but maybe the thought of ghosts was just that outlandish that even the dark knight himself thought it to be crazy too. Danny himself didn’t believe in anything his parents published, some of the papers even seemed to be biased somehow, even though his parents hadn’t ever actually encountered a ghost. That last part was probably the reason no one bothered to actually investigate his parents, there wasn’t really much to investigate.

The siblings waited in silence and eventually Tim and Damian showed up after their classes and the four headed to Alfred waiting by the car.

If anyone tried to start a conversation with Danny he wasn’t paying attention. If he was being honest, his parents' portal scared him a lot. He wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous about it, both him and Jazz renounced the thought that ghosts could exist. Something deep down in his guts told him that he should turn and run, that what his parents were attempting was taboo and that his parents were tampering with forces unimaginable.

No one was going to listen to a fourteen year old though so Danny kept his feelings to himself and ignored them.

Soon they were pulled in front of their apartment and true to their word, Damian and Tim asked Alfred to park nearby. Danny and Jazz took a hesitant glance at each other as they walked into the house.

#dp x dc prompt #danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc #dc x dp #poor danny #Major Character Death and undeath in the next one #bad parents jack and maddie #Danny gets his powers and everyone else gets trauma #This is going to focus heavily on Danny and what he’s going through #Bulling mentioned #Danny loves space #Heavy angst in the next few chapters #Let me know who you'd like to see show up from DC #I'm also thinking of bringing in Sam and Tucker #I know exactly what I have in mind to bring them into the fray too #I'm excited to write some of this but also a little nervous lol #I have ideas #I have a little more of an idea of where I want this to go so I will be focusing on this one #I haven't forgotten the others though I find it easier to take breaks and let parts breath for a bit #I have a few books on writing that I've been meaning to read so I might give those a go #One of the things I'm struggling to figure out is showing and not just telling #my asks are open #all my prompts are free to use

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mkarchin713 · 2 months

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You guys know this story

If you don’t, it’s basically a fic where the BatClan convinced the JL that they are demons who reproduce asexually by absorbing the souls of dead children and that Batman is pregnant.

(Read the fic for more information)

Anyway.

What if it was true.

What if Lady Gotham was the Gotham-Born-Bat-Demon’s goddess who turned (insert Wayne Family Ancestor here) into a Bat Demon and all subsequent Wayne’s were either conceived asexually through the absorption of a dead child’s soul, the traditional way with the child coming out 100% Bat Demon, or were individuals who undergo a magical ritual and bathe in Lady Gotham’s blood.

Thomas was born a Bat Demon but his lovers Martha and Alfred were turned into Bat Demons through the ceremony.

Kate and Luke died sometime in their childhood and were incubated by Martha and Thomas respectively. This makes them Bruce’s siblings by Demon Bat standards.

The Bat Demons are able to shapeshift between their demon form and their human form at will. In their human form they are nigh indistinguishable from an Olympic level athlete and are highly intelligent. In their Bat Demon forms they can turn into shadows, use magic, etc.

The Batclan uses their Bat Demon Forms as inspiration for their costumes. Red, yellow and green markings are common for adolescent Bat Demons.

Bat Demons can only be killed in their true forms. If they receive mortal injuries in their human forms they go into healing comas which can last anywhere from a month to a hundred years.

When the Waynes were murdered they actually went into healing comas and were stored deep in the Batcave.

When Jason was killed by Joker he was placed in the Batcave crypt. Unfortunately there was an earthquake/cave in which buried him alive and caused his newly revived self to dig his way to the surface. This combined with Jason’s head trauma from his murder, caused Jason to forget he was a Bat Demon and believe he was only human.

The Lazarus Pits are a sacred places to the Demon Bats and are believed to be pools of Lady Gotham’s blood. They have the power to turn humans into Demon Bats when accompanied by a magical ritual. Without the ritual the pits can only heal humans, but prolonged exposer can give them Demon Bat traits. If a Demon Bat is exposed to the pits without the ritual it can cause Pit Madness as it messed with the bonds that Demon Bats have with their flock.

…..

This is all I have so far.

I may add more.

Free to use.

Credit for idea to the OPs.

#cryptid batfamily #dc comics #Batman #dc prompt #writing prompts #first time doing something like this. if I have forgotten to add anything let me know #I don’t know all the Tumblr rules yet.#is this kosher?#batfamily

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tonyage · 9 months

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wicked dastardly venturefell orpheus au where he just goes around doing this

#friday night.. you know what that means!#other anons i have not forgotten you i promise...#venture bros #mspaint prompts

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omppupiiras · 2 months

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also: what about the lil guy going shopping for the first time? 🥹

he's gonna buy himself a sweet treat! 🍓😍

#käärijä #peas and corn käärijä #asks #yehhhh i haven't forgotten about the corn pea kä prompts i haven't drawn yet 😆#💛💚🌽

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chaoswarfare · 1 year

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dp x dc prompt #37

danny has been wandering around this new universe for a while now trying to figure out where the corrupted ectoplasm smell was coming from. It’s really a nice place, and when you take in all the frequent rogue attacks, it’s just like home.

he’s really just confused as to why the protectors of this world keep giving him snacks when they run into each other. i mean, free food is free food and danny’s not going to question it since he’s long since figured out he can’t be poisoned, it’s not really a problem either way. it would just be nice if they would stop babying the centuries old king just because he looks like a child.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dc x dp #crossover #dc universe #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #writing prompt #writing #the justice league just want to help the poor lost child with cosmic responsibilities #unfortunately danny has forgotten to mention that he is in fact not a child #the jl is in full parent mode and he has no idea why #he just wants to get rid of the evil necromancy spas in peace #at least he’s getting free food out of it #constantine gonna flip his lid when he finally gets around to checking in #his coworkers are trying to adopt an eldritch god #why can’t any of them be responsible for once #danny could fold any of them like a lawn chair and he’s still getting treated like he’s made of glass #even better if the jl decides to try and train the child for hero work with his strong meta abilities #too bad he’s already got centuries on them #sucks to suck jl #lmao

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1970sgothfreak · 1 year

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The forgotten Twins birthday part 2

N/n-nickname

*The next day*

You woke up feeling arms tightly around your waist and head, you move your eyes around your room to see the sunlight peeking out through the curtains. You looked up and saw Jon cuddling you to his chest which is where you saw tear stain marks on his shirt, realising you fell asleep crying and he comforted you the whole time you felt a heat rush to your cheeks before shaking your head.

‘He’s my best friend…I can’t…can I..?”

You were around to get up when you heard your bedroom door open, you twisted your head around and saw Alfred with a tray of breakfast for both you and Jon, he smiled softly at you when he saw you had awoken.

“Good morning miss Wayne, how did you sleep?”

“Good morning Alfred I slept good thank you for asking” you replied softly

The older man smiled at you and placed the tray down on your bedside table before whispering…

‘He stayed with you the whole night, refused to let you go ma’am’

He stood up and walked out of door leaving you alone with a wonderfully smelling breakfast, your best friend/crush and your thoughts.

~meanwhile~

The boys were down in the bat cave trying to figure out how they were going to make this up to you, they knew it had to be perfect and that hopefully you would end up forgiving them. Bruce was sitting on a chair with his hands folded on his lap, Dick, Jason and Damian were all leaning against the wall of the bat cave and Tim was sitting on a chair facing the rest of the family.

“Well does anyone have ideas?” Bruce spoke after moments of silence

Nothing…

No one said a word

They had no idea what you liked

What were your hobbies?

What was your favourite music and movie?

When…

When was the last time someone in this family other than Alfred held you and let you cry into their arms

When was the last time any of them had actually spend a moment of their time with you…

Oh they were fucked.

~back with you and Jon~

(Your pov) (pls forgive me if this is bad)

I was eating the waffles Alfred had made for me quietly moaning in delight whenever I took a bite, that man knew how I liked my waffles, I looked down at Jon who was now cuddling my waist and blushed a little.

“I really am hopelessly in love…aren’t I?” I mumbled under my breath

I heard a soft groan before a sleepy voice spoke up

“Y/n?…mmm…come back to sleep it’s to early” Jon mumbled noticing i was awake, he then sat up and rubbed his eyes before noticing the food on the table meant for him. He grabbed it and we both continued eating until I looked up at his face again and saw maple syrup on the side of his lips.

‘Should I..?’ I thought before releasing a breath and leaning up kissing the side of his lips hoping he didn’t do push me away. I pulled back and saw a faint blush on his cheeks, he turned to look and me before cupping me cheeks and looking me in my eyes.

“Y/n…”

“Jon…” we both whispered each other names,I felt him press his forehead to mine gently rubbing my cheeks with his fingers as if I was a fragile doll ready to break at any moment.

I closed my eyes and leaned up gently kissing him, I felt him kiss back…and as I expected he tasted like maple syrup. We pull away both our faces flushed red and I feel Jon tilt my head up again.

He looked nervous but I placed my hands on the side of his face giving him an encouraging smile to hopefully give him the confidence to say what he was going to say to me.

Okaysoireallylikeyouandhavelikedyouforalongtimenowwouldyougooutwithme” he spoke quickly before hiding his face in my neck. I froze processing what he said before a smile appeared on my face and I pulled his head out my neck and kissed his nose.

“Yes yes yes!!” I squealed, happy that for once something was going right in my life

No one pov:

But what you didn’t notice was the boys standing at your door watching the whole thing happen. They were frozen, how were they meant to react, should they yell and tell you that you can’t date him…should they be happy and try to talk with you?

Bruce pushed open the door making you both turn towards him after hearing the creaking of the door. You fixed your posture before looking at the man who you called your father.

“Y/n we need to talk..all of us” he stated firmly while glaring at Jon as if to tell him to leave so it could be a private discussion. Jon glared back but kissed your cheek before heading downstairs shoving into your brothers as he went through your door.

“N/n we-“ jason started but you raised your hand making him pause. You looked at them all with disgust and hatred making them feel their hearts crack even more, this wasn’t their sister…no this was the product of what they had done.

“Don’t you dare call me that Todd, it’s Y/n or al Ghul to you..to all of you in fact! Don’t you dare call me any sort of nickname or even refer to me as a Wayne because clearly from how I’ve been treated I’m not a wayne!” You shouted slamming your fist into your bedside table.

How dare they come in here and act like they get to call you that when they were never around, Damian began walking to you stopping when he was in front of you and he took your hands in his.

“Y/n…my dear sister…please forgive us we didn’t mean for this to happen-“

“But you did…all of you did” you state pulling your hands out of his and turning your back to them, you let out a shaky breath refusing to cry for these men. You simply pointed to the door and said…

“Get out, as far as I am concerned Alfred and Jon are the only ones whom I have granted entrance to my room now leave” you spoke with such a monotone voice that made Tim look at you with teary eyes before leaving, Dick and the others following.

You stood and locked the door, leaning against it pressing your forehead to the cold wood before letting the tears flow and let out a sob, you were aware the boys could hear you but in that moment you didn’t care all you wanted was to be alone and cry.

And as for the boys well…

They all stood there outside their little sisters/Daughters door hearing her sob all because they weren’t around in her life…this was the one mistake they weren’t going to be able to fix..or were they?

@sem-blog245

@ladyagagaslefttoe

#platonic #batfam angst #angst prompt #batsis reader #batfam x batsis #batfam #jon kent x reader #damain wayne x sister reader #dick grayson x sister reader #tim drake x sister!reader #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #batboys x batsis #batboys #The forgotten Twin’s birthday

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zenkindoflove · 24 days

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Elucien 4

4...where it hurts.

Okay, nonnie, I actually was pretty inspired by this prompt because it fit nicely with an idea I've had for a one shot for quite sometime. So you are getting more than a drabble today, my dear. This fic is dedicated to @crazy-ache who requested this idea from me a few months ago and I've been sitting on it.

Embrace (an Elucien one-shot)

Summary: Elain is on a journey of embracing her Faeness. When studying Lucien's pierced ears, an idea forms in her head that she can't shake. (~2,800 words)

Read on AO3 or under the cut

Elain swirled her drink in her glass, staring at Lucien’s earrings. He sat next to her on the pink sofa, engaged in a heated card game with Jurian. Jurian insisted on betting because otherwise, where was the fun if there were no stakes? There were two stacks of money on the table, mostly on Lucien’s side as he was beating Jurian senselessly. Vassa sat at the window, ignoring them, lost in her book. Nesta and Cassian had visited yesterday, still on their emissary duties and checking in with both Lucien and Eris, and Nesta brought the Queen the latest romance novel that had her and the other Valkyries swooning.

That left Elain with nothing to do but to study her mate and his distinctly Fae beauty.

Their relationship was slow and steady in its development. She arrived at the manor just two months before, determined to use her powers to solve Vassa’s curse. They hadn’t made much progress in that direction, but everyday Elain felt herself becoming more in tune with her powers, some of which had been surprising to discover. At first, it was awkward with Lucien, but once the ice broke, they quickly gravitated towards each other. Lucien insisted on helping her with her powers, and it allowed enough proximity that Elain found all of her reluctance concerning him and the bond chipping away day by day. As she suspected long ago, falling in love with Lucien was easy. She hadn’t told him that was what she was doing yet. The physical and romantic side of their relationship was so new, and Lucien was careful not to put any perceived pressure on her to be so forthright. But she had a feeling that those words would come tumbling out of her soon enough.

For now, she sipped the whiskey he had poured her and studied the earrings that adorned Lucien’s ears. It was unheard of to see a human man wear jewelry in his ears. She read about pirates in some of the fairytales she consumed as a child wearing them. But she had seen that Fae were not shy about decorating themselves. Lucien embraced this part of Faeness wholly, with a gold hoop through his lobe, another in the cartilage just below where the point of his ear began, and just above that, a diamond stud. His other ear only had a gold hoop in his lobe as he opted for an asymmetrical style.

“You’re a cheat!” Jurian shouted, throwing his cards down on the coffee table. He dramatically stood from his seat as Lucien heartily laughed at him.

“I’m just better than you, Jurian,” Lucien shrugged his shoulders lazily.

Jurian grumbled as he tore away and stalked over to Vassa, still engrossed in her book and not even looking up at his outburst. Without warning, he scooped her up from her chair, earning him a surprised yelp and some violent swatting.

“Put me down, you brute,” Vassa scolded. “I was just getting to the good part.”

Jurian peeked over to the page open in front of them, his eyes quickly scanning over the text. “Oh, well I can certainly do all of that for you. You don’t need this trashy book.” He plucked the book out of her hands and tossed it across the room.

“Hey!” she protested but did little to fight him as he carried her out of the room, heading for the stairs.

Lucien and Elain stared after them with knowing smiles. Every night was the same. After dinner, they would socialize and play games in the parlor, and every night, Jurian and Vassa would work themselves up into a mood until they quickly retired, their intentions of what they were leaving to do obvious.

When they were gone, Lucien leaned back in his spot, relaxing against the back of the couch and throwing his arm up to extend behind Elain’s shoulders. He turned his mismatched eyes on her, his lazy smile now turning into a sly smirk.

“Did you cheat?” Elain asked. She felt his fingers run through the ends of her hair as she turned her body sideways to face him.

“I would never,” Lucien feigned innocence leaning forward to grab one of her legs that were folded together on the couch. He pulled her ankle over his lap, his touch light as he caressed her calf. Even through her stockings, she could feel the warmth radiating from his fingertips. “Jurian thinks he doesn’t have a tell, but I have his figured out.”

Elain scooted forward until she was directly next to him, her leg now bent over his lap and his fingers trailing higher up. She played with the ends of his molten red hair, finding the braid he almost always wore hanging down from his temple. “What’s his tell?”

Lucien inhaled deeply, and Elain knew he was likely scenting her, looking for a sign of what direction their evening would go.

“He squints his eyes when he has a good hand,” Lucien said, and Elain could feel the vibrations of the deep timbre of his voice through his chest. “Like this.”

Lucien did an impression of Jurian, his face strained in concentration as he pretended to look at a hand of cards. Elain giggled immediately, all too familiar with the face that Lucien mimicked. She saw it from Jurian often, realizing it did usually accompany some boastful display.

The hand playing with the ends of her hair slid up to cup the back of her neck. Lucien leaned in close, his face hovering centimeters from hers. Elain braced herself against his chest, feeling his heartbeat through his shirt, which was splayed open over his chest as he relaxed for the evening. But Lucien didn’t kiss her like she expected, instead, taking the moments he lingered to breathe her in and running his fingers higher up her thigh. He was teasing her, she realized. Baiting her to make the next move and kiss him first. Elain almost did. She knew as soon as their lips touched, they would tangle themselves together, kissing, touching, and grinding until it became obvious that they needed to continue things in the bedroom where they could close the door from any prying eyes. But Elain had been turning an idea over in her head all day, and she wanted to express it before they lost themselves in each other.

Elain trailed the hand touching his braid to his ear, running her fingers over his earrings. Lucien emitted a low hum, almost like a purr. She discovered with him how sensitive Fae ears were, especially the pointed tips. She loved the way he responded to her when she tugged at his earrings with her teeth. It often earned her a fiery return of his passion.

“I had an idea today,” she started, rolling the smooth gold of his cartilage hoop between her fingers.

“Mmm,” Lucien responded, his eyes closing.

“I think I would like my ears pierced like this,” she announced. Lucien popped his eyes open, clearly surprised by her admission.

“Really?” he asked.

Elain spun the diamond stud, “Yes, is that hard to believe?”

Lucien lifted his hand from her thigh and tucked a strand of hair that had fallen forward behind her ear. “You have been shy about your ears.”

It was true. Once she was Made, she often wore her hair in a way that hid her ears. In the beginning, her ears were the biggest reminder that she wasn’t human. As time passed, she had gotten more used to her new body, and her ears didn’t bother her as much, though she didn’t really want to draw attention to them.

“I’m in a new era,” she declared, straightening her spine proudly. “Is it not common for Fae to pierce their ears?”

“It is,” Lucien smiled up at her, dropping his arm around her from her neck down to her waist.

“And am I not Fae?”

Lucien squeezed her, his smile growing wider. “You are.”

“Okay then, I want to pierce my ears.”

“Right now?” he asked, arching the eyebrow over his good eye.

“Do we have the right tools for it?”

Lucien thought for a moment and then grinned in triumph, “Come with me.”

They unfolded their bodies from the sofa enthusiastically, hopping to their feet as Lucien guided them up the stairs to his room. Once inside, he immediately went to his closet, rummaging around. Elain propped herself on his bed, her mind wandering to the night before, when they had entered this room under different circumstances. Lucien had tossed her from his shoulder onto the mattress, pouncing on top of her before sealing his lips to hers.

Lucien emerged from his closet, holding a sewing kit. He laid it down on his dresser, opening the drawer to pull out a velvet bag. He emptied the contents, several earrings falling out onto the top of the dresser.

“So, how many do you want?”

Elain was caught off guard. She hadn’t really considered that far. “I’m not sure.”

“Okay, well, where would you like them?”

“Here,” Elain touched her cartilage just below her point. “On both sides, I think.”

Lucien nodded his head and plucked two diamond studs out of the pile. He opened the sewing kit, removing one of the thicker needles.

Elain’s impulsiveness started to catch up to her. She hadn’t thought about how it might hurt. Her ears were pierced when she was eight years old at her mother’s insistence. She remembered being afraid and the sharp pain. But what she remembered the most was the healing afterwards, and how red and puffy her ears became and that it was uncomfortable to sleep.

“What is the healing like, for fae? When I was human the process took several weeks.”

“Well, I could heal you immediately. That’s what I did for myself when I did these,” he gestured to his ears. “And my nose.”

“You pierced your nose?” Elain couldn’t disguise the shock in her voice.

“Yep, when I was young in Autumn. My brothers teased me mercilessly for it and took turns trying to rip it out.”

Elain’s excited joy turned sour, her protective instinct kicking up in her gut. Every time she heard stories about Lucien’s brothers, it made her feel violent and ill. Even though Lucien had explained that out of all of his brothers, Eris was the least of the worst, she still glared at him during their meeting yesterday. It seemed to only amuse him, and he called her little sister several times with mock affection.

Lucien must have felt the pivot in her emotions down the bond because he turned to face her with a warm, knowing smile on his face. “Thinking of skewering my brothers again?”

“Yes,” Elain crossed her arms over her chest.

Lucien chuckled before leaning against the dresser and producing a flame in his hand. He ran the needle through it until it turned bright orange. He extinguished his flame and the metal turned black and then back to chrome.

“Well, I’m afraid the only one who is getting skewered tonight is you, doll.”

Elain restrained the comment that popped up in her head, failing to hide her wicked smile. Lucien stepped forward with the needle, eyeing her as he kneeled in front of her. He reached out and bopped the tip of her nose and winked, “You have a dirty mind. You need to focus.”

Elain rolled her eyes and pulled her hair back. As she tied it behind her head, Lucien stood up and sat on her left side.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his question free of judgment. Elain could tell that if she changed her mind, he wouldn’t think her cowardly. He was giving her the freedom to push her boundaries or pull them back, as was his way with so many of the things she explored these past two months.

“I’m sure,” Elain nodded her head. “And healing me after sounds nice. I would like to be able to sleep on my side tonight.”

Elain closed her eyes as Lucien leaned forward with the needle. He manipulated her ear some, examining it before she felt the sharp tip touch her skin.

“I’ll do this fast,” he promised. “Now, take a deep breath in.”

Elain filled her lungs with air, pushing their expansion to their limit.

“And exhale.”

As she pushed her breath out, Lucien pierced the needle through her ear. She felt the tight sting, but it disappeared in a flash. Lucien stood from the bed, to grab one of the studs from the dresser. Elain could feel that the needle was still lodged through her ear.

“That was a lot less painful than my memories from childhood,” she said, watching him carefully as he sat down next to her again.

“This will hurt a little too,” he said. “But we can do the same thing.”

Lucien guided her through changing the needle for the earring. Once it was in place, she stood from the bed and walked over the standing mirror in the corner of his room. It was the perfect placement for the shape of her ear. Elain admired the sparkle of the diamond, turning her head as the stone caught the dim light of the room.

“Do you like it?”

“I do,” she said. “Let’s do the other one.”

Lucien was as gentle with her other ear as he had been with the first. When it was all done, and she confirmed she was satisfied, he healed each piercing one by one with a kiss. The light touch of his lips sent shivers down her spine that made her giggle shyly. When he was done, Elain tested them, spinning and tugging the jewelry. It felt the same as her lobe holes that had healed over 15 years ago.

“That’s remarkable,” Elain said, impressed.

Lucien smiled at her, “We could do some more if you want. Any place too.”

Elain caught the wiggle of his eyebrows, and she placed her hands on her hips. “I don’t know what you’re implying, sir.” Though her mind wandered to some interesting places indeed.

Lucien shrugged his shoulders and flashed her a playful look before turning back to the dresser to put the earrings and sewing kit back. Elain admired her appearance in the mirror again. Somehow, she felt more feminine now. She also felt a surge of pride. This was certainly not something any human women did, and even her sisters hadn’t embraced the practice, given that the Night Court was much more concerned with adorning themselves in tattoos rather than sparkly jewelry. But the only thought that crossed her mind was that this suited her.

Strong arms pulled her close, and Elain could see Lucien in the reflection, pulling her against him. His breath was warm as it skittered across her neck. His lips traced the shell of her ear as he ran them up until he reached her point. Elain melted in his arms, her limbs covered in goosebumps.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, his hand sliding down her waist as he caressed her hip. Elain pushed her backside against him, feeling his strong thighs against hers. He squeezed her as he pushed back, and Elain felt the evidence of his need for her pressed into her rear.

He nipped at her cartilage, just over her new piercing, and the sensation was new and exciting. Elain dug her fingers into his hard forearms, tilting her head to offer her mouth to him. She hadn’t tasted him since this morning, and now, all she wanted was to fall into bed with him and taste every inch of him.

Lucien kissed her lips with hunger, capturing her bottom lip. They moaned in unison and Elain turned to embrace him fully. They kissed in deep, sensuous undulations in front of the mirror, their hands touching and squeezing as they ran up and down each other’s torsos, their tongues in a tentative dance until the tension was too much to bear. Elain felt her feet leave the floor, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He walked them back to the bed, taking the opportunity to squeeze her soft flesh. She expected him to toss her on her back again, like he had last night, but instead he sat down, holding her close so she straddled his lap. Elain ran her fingers through the soft silk of his hair, devouring his mouth as she delighted in her position of control. Soon, Lucien was falling on his back and Elain was pinning him to the bed, rocking her hips over his, tossing her head back as her earrings glittered in the candlelight.

Kiss prompts.

#elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elain x lucien #pro elucien #elucien fanfiction #zenkindoflove: embrace #kiss asks #ask games #kiss prompts #i have a few more outstanding ones in my inbox that I'll get to eventually as I become inspired #just wanted to let you all know i haven't forgotten them

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