There’s a child wandering the streets of Crime Alley. Unfortunately, this is nothing new for the area, riddled with crime and homelessness as it is. However, Red Hood and Nightwing are vigilantes and helping lost looking children is firmly in their job description. Plus, Crime Alley is Red Hood’s. He protects what’s his. With a single shared look, the brothers swung down to the child clad in just a white dress and some thin flats completely unsuitable for Gotham’s worsening weather. Hell it’s be unsuitable for the general poor weather.
“Hey, kiddo.”
The girl’s head swung to lock gazes with the duo, eyes blinking blue- and green? Red Hood allowed his brother- he worked so hard to beat down the pit madness in order for Nightwing to even remain near- to take the lead.
“Oh. There you are.” She said, turning to face them fully. The kid’s face filled with relief.
Nightwing blinked.
“You were looking for us?” His soft voice saved for children firmed into something more serious, more concerned.
“Mmhm. I was looking for Red Hood, but you’re a good bonus.”
“And why were you looking for me, kid?” Red Hood interjects. He knows Dickolas is clocking the same things he is: the kid’s white whispy hair, pale face, and… Lazarus green eyes? It’s more solid now, that she’s looking at Jason.
Dick straightened, eyes going heavy as he looks at this wisp of a girl. He’s fiercely protective of Jason and they’re both equally wary of the League of Assassins. Still, the two of them couldn’t help but let their guard down a bit because this was still a child they’re talking to.
“Because… um. Did you know you’ve died?”
Hood stiffened, hand going towards his guns. Granted, they’re rubber bullets, but the kid clocks that immediately. She threw her hands up in the universal gesture of “I’m unarmed and mean no harm.”
“I- well, to put it frankly, you kind of… stink?”
“What.”
“Ugh, I’m totally messing this up!”
“Why don’t you start again?” Dick said, shifting into a subtler fighting stance. He kept his voice light, but Jason saw the way his hands inched towards the scrims sticks. Distantly, Jason thought it was hilarious that this tiny kid could evoke that kind of response. Looking into Lazarus green eyes though, he couldn’t find the humor anywhere. The worst thing, though, is that the pit quieted. The rage the bubbled incessantly underneath his skin calmed. Jason did not like feeling bereft of the rage, not when he didn’t know why it was gone. He had just gained control of it, minimally, and to have that control be unnecessary left the vigilantes off kilter.
“Right, okay, sorry. Um, did you, uh, die and wake up surrounded by glowing green stuff?”
Before Jason could reply ‘yes, and why the hell do you know that?’, the kid continued with, “Because me too!”
She did jazz hands as Jason’s and Dick’s brains short circuited. Jason thought he even heard a little “yay!”
“What.” Jason sputtered out. His stomach and heart clenched as he thought about how young the kid looked. Fuck.
“Yeah. So, anyways-”
“Don’t speed past that like you didn’t say what you just said!” Dick interrupted, hand tugging at his hair in distress. His body language slipped from battle ready to extremely distressed. “You died?”
“You were- you were dipped in the Lazarus pits?!” Jason felt the need to address that specific point.
“I mean, it’s not that important? The important thing is- wait, what’s a Lazarus pit?”
Jason froze again. She didn’t know what they were?
“It’s… the glowing green stuff.” Dick answered her.
“Oh. Is that what you were dipped in?” She tilted her head at Jason. He nodded, wariness climbing. “Oh. Well, I mean, that’s not we call it. But the stuff you were dipped in, it’s rank. Contaminated.”
Jason thinks back to the burning, drowning green. The agony he felt as it slipped into his mouth and nose and his very being.
“It was bubbling.” He said. The girl grimaced. Jason had no idea why he was being so honest with this kid.
“Gross. Anyways, I can, like, help you with that?”
“With what?” Dick asked, eyes darting from the girl to Jason.
The girl groaned. “Okay, so I guess you guys are kind of new. Uh, the contaminated green stuff,” she points at Jason’s chest. “That’s making you angry, right? Leaving you in the backseat of your head as your body breaks whatever got you angry to begin with and you have no control over it?”
“…The pit madness.” Jason mumbled, feeling numb. “Yeah.”
“…Right. I can help you clear that out,” she pauses, fidgeting. “If… If you help me talk to Batman? It’s kind of… urgent.”
“Batman?”
“Why?”
“Uh. There’s kind of… a whole mad scientist thing going on and like… experimentation and dissections… you know?” The kid waved her arms around, distressed.
Dick and Jason unfortunately did know.
“Cave?” Jason grumbled.
“Cave.”
“Okay, we’ll bring you to the cave. Then you tell us everything.”
“Really?”
She looked up at them hopefully, and Jason could see the moment Dickolas melted. Not that Jason could say anything, since he was already taking off his jacket and bundling the kid in it.
“Um.”
“Who the hell let you walk around Gotham like that?” He scowled down at her, not that she could see it with the red helmet in the way. Dick looked at him carefully, eyes roving over the oddly relaxed state his little wing was in.
The kid shrugged. Jason sighs.
“What’s your name?” Dick asked. Scooping her up, the blue and black clad raised his free arm to grapple away. Jason follows him, heading towards the motorcycles they’ve got parked nearby.
“Dani. With an I.”
“Nice to meet you, Dani. I’m Nightwing. This is my… this is Red Hood.”
“Okay. Cool.”

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Dc x dp idea: time travel yaaaay
Danny, Sam and Tucker get back from fixing some errors in the time line in France just before the French Revolution.
And sure Danny got mistaken for a French aristocrat that had died the day before they got there but it wasn’t to bad, it only made their jobs easier. It won’t be a problem for them.
Meanwhile Constantine, Batman and whoever the fuck else (imma say Hal, I love that green bitch) are exploring an abandoned manor in France after there being reports of strange, violent activity, and with their latest teammate Phantom not picking up their calls Constantine had to pull these two with him instead.
“Hey guys, Phantom’s a ghost, right?”
Hal sounds hesitant as Constantine replies
“Yes, why?”
“I think I found a picture of him living.”
and there on the wall is a picture of a long dead french aristocrat, with black hair and blue eyes but every other detail the same as Phantom’s
There on the wall sits a photo of Daniel Nightingale, a teenager who was possessed by a demon and killed two servants, then himself.
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— ⟡ dizzy drabbles disclaimer !!
all dizzy drabbles are written when i am extremely high ( or, dizzy ) and they don’t contain a trigger warnings list. if there’s no indication by the request, you can assume that the fic is nsfw + probably dark-leaning, if not blatantly dark. noncon, dub con, and other triggering content may be present, read with caution ( enjoy your experience <3 )
kazutora doesn’t tell you he has a hidden piercing. oh no, he’d rather it be a surprise.
his car is still running, albeit thrown in park outside your apartment building. you’re leaned over the console, lips locked with his in a heated battle for dominance. your hands, which had previously gripped his hair, now fondled their ways downwards, from tugging at the neckline of his black tee to palming the shape of his bulge in his sweats. “fuck,” he pants into your mouth, grabbing your wrist and pulling it underneath the elastic band. his tongue rolls over yours, and a hot gust of breath tickles your countenance the moment you feel him. “more. feel me. here.”
of course, he wasn’t wearing underwear.
the warmth of his sex was too inviting, and you quickly sought out his base, wrapping your hand around it. you wanted to feel how sturdy he was, and how rigid his veins were. the way he barely fit in your hand had you whimpering into his mouth, your palm gliding upwards, massaging the tender underside, inch by inch, rubbing up to the tip.
“you’re so—“ It was a breathy, happy start. big. hard. either one of those two words could’ve come out, but instead your breath caught when your thumb ran towards the head to tease his slit, and you felt warm metal. you ran the pad of your thumb along a thin, metal crescent, roughly 2mm around, that hooked in through the slit and poked out along the flare of the underside of the tip, just above the frenulum. you were stunned at first, your eyes wide. you didn’t know what to say. “you have a…”
“you like it?” kazutora whispers, and he leans back in the seat, abandoning your swollen lips, panting, and grabbing the hem of his sweats to pull them down. his cock springs free, and smacks against his taut, lower abdomen, the silver ring glittering as it catches the headlights of passing traffic as they fill the cab of his car with flitting flashes of light. he glances down at it, and then back up at you with a ragged grin. he must’ve seen the way your eyes seemed to light up with curiosity and awe. “you can play with it.”
and you do, as gingerly as you could, afraid that it must be uncomfortable. however, when you gently pushed, smearing the very tip of your thumb over the silver, kazutora moaned, and rested his head against the back of his seat.
“Does it really feel… good?” you almost can’t believe how pink his cheeks turned until he looked at you, flushed and breathing heavily. there’s a faint smile that tugs at his lips as he runs one hand up to hold your jawline, cradle the shape and guide your face closer.
“Feels good,” he assured you in a heavy sigh, but he drags his mouth over yours, humming in a way that you know it was more of an invitation than information, his golden eyes closed under a rush of pleasure, “but it feels so much better when pretty girls give it sloppy, little kisses.”
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Prompt 237
“Wait, so, Captain Marvel is like, three?”
Said hero pauses as he nearly passes by a cracked door, creeping slightly closer despite it being more than a little rude to eavesdrop. All of the gods were insistent, which he could say no to, but Billy was giving him the equivalent of puppy eyes, which they all knew he was weak to.
He? They? Marvel was technically an amalgamation of the past champions, currently split between six beings, though nowhere near equally. Billy was and would be the chosen champion- pure of heart to be able to resist the Gods’ bullshit- but he had chosen a team himself, which honestly Marvel approved.
“What the fuck do you mean by that, Hal?”
He didn’t move from the corner, head tilting slightly at Green Lantern’s and Green Arrow’s words. Billy, not physically there, not really, wiggled down from his shoulder, passing through the wall like a ghost invisible to all but him.
Well, him and the Gods, but Mercury’s words were muffled, nearly silenced by Solomon at the moment, so he was probably attempting to wax poetic about Flash again in a way that little ears shouldn’t hear.
“I mean, Marvel mentioned he was created three years ago, right?”
Ah. Marvel had meant that the newest Champion had been chosen, but well, he supposed that the team didn’t have all the information, as Solomon pointed out. And he was pretty sure that Billy was mostly in control at that point- it could get confusing with the hive-mind but not-hive-mind. It was hard to explain to those not apart of it.
But they had to go now, Fawcett called, and it wasn’t like Billy could leave it for long. Chances were nothing would come from this anyway.
…
Why does this feel like the intervention videos Billy showed them all.
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