3/?
C1 (and prompt) / C2 / C3 / C4
Duke’s no visual artist.
He’s a writer, first and foremost, and knows how to weave words into tapestries of literature even though when he speaks, he fumbles as hard as any other teenager. He’s got about seven different documents scattered across three different devices crammed full of quotes that he doesn’t have a use for but wants to, and that’s probably the best metaphor for his day-to-day life that he can come up with.
So, yeah, definitely not a visual artist, unless one can call his half-decent handwriting ‘art.’ Since gaining his powers, though, he’s had to train the skillset to the best of his ability, because otherwise it’s impossible to always convey exactly what he sees in the world.
Shrimp colours? Yeah, they’re funky things. (And technically not shrimp colours, according to Tim, but Duke refuses to call them anything else). Skin stripes? Complete bullshit, thanks for nothing internet.
Okay– not the point.
4/?
C1 (and prompt) / C2 / C3 / C4
She should really be used to being alone by now.
When she’d finally been settled enough in her own skin, the first thing she’d wanted to do was fly far, far away from Amity, explore the world that she’s just been given the opportunity to experience. She was twelve, simultaneously in weeks and months, and the thought of being tied to a person or place made her skin crawl and bile threaten to spill from her throat.
It’d been good, too, is the thing. Nothing was stopping her from being who she wants to be, and there was no need to look over her shoulder. It was interesting, and it was exhilarating.
Ellie spins on her heel just to feel the pressure, and restarts her circuit of the hallway.
2/?
C1 (and prompt) / C2 / C3 / C4
It is extremely rare in Wayne manor that someone is completely awake at breakfast. Half the time, Bruce doesn’t even show up until the rest of the house’s residents have gone off to do something else.
Duke is picking at his eggs instead of, y’know, actually eating them, and is focusing extremely hard on not focusing his vision to the point of seeing bacteria that he frankly doesn’t need to be thinking about for anything except an extremely specific kind of case.
Somehow, Damian manages to maintain his proper posture, the only indication of his exhaustion being the occasional slow blink.
They’ve both got their phones on the table, observing and not responding as Steph and Tim lose their singular shared braincell over the fact that it’s not projected to rain at all today. The level of energy involved in the conversation suggests that neither of them have actually gone to bed yet.
Danny's found a way to dodge GIW trackers, as well as his parents.
Their equipment hunts ghosts, ghosts run on emotion; so as long as he keeps his under a tight lid and doesn't feel anything ever, they won't be able to track him.
It works!
He's able to run from them, and goes as far as New Jersey. The plan was to stow away on a ship, and go to literally any country that wasn't America. He goes to Gotham, which hosts the one harbor he knows where no one will ask any questions.
But because of how weird he acted (completely emotionless during a Joker attack), he was fingered by police immediately.
He's handed over to CPP. CPP doesn't know what to do with a teen literally so traumatized that they don't show any emotion at all, ever. He keeps just...walking out of his placements. Just leaves without a sound.
Luckily, he's always caught, due to those placement houses having quiet alarms and him refusing to run.
They call the one foster parent they know who does.
Bruce Wayne takes in the strange, nameless kid who refuses to talk.
On paper, they gave him the filler name of 'John Doe', for lack of anything better to do.
Bruce does everything he can to make the newest arrival feel at home. Damian, for as territorial as he is, actually breaks out of his shell sooner than expected just to try to get the new kid to speak. To emote. To do something. Duke tries the open approach, then tries the 'no one will ever know, everyone thinks I'm an innocent goody-two-shoes' approach. Nada.
Tim even tries to trick him into talking, but nothing works.
Enter Dick; Dick heard about Bruce's new ward, about the situation, and decided to see if he could get the kid to open up.
Danny though. Danny's in trouble.
The Wayne Manor is weirdly secure, and he can't just walk away like he did his other placements. He can't use ghost powers or the GIW and his parents will immediately know where he is.
He really, really wants to take Bruce up on his offer and just spend the day relaxing. Respond to Damian's attempts to provoke him. Overshare about space facts with Tim.
But most of all, he really, desperately wants to get in a Pun Competition with Dick. He wants to laugh at Dick's jokes, and learn coolass gymnastic tricks!
But he can't!
If he relaxes with Bruce, he'll be content, which is an emotion. If he argues with Damian, he'll get annoyed, which is an emotion. If he sneaks out with Duke and breaks the rules, he'll get happy, which, again, emotion. If he overshares with Tim, he'll get excited, which is, yet again, an emotion!
The worst sin of all, he can't even show proper appreciation of the food the Butler keeps making him!
And now there's even more people coming over!
There's a quiet girl who keeps reading his body language and trying to get him to dance ballet, a blonde girl who keeps trying to kidnap him to take him to BatBurger, a guy with a stripe of white who wants to take him to a shooting range, and it just...he really, really wants to!
He wants to do all these cool things with them!
But he fucking can't!
The entire family is worried about Danny, he can tell. They are so kind, and so worried. It's like being surrounded by different versions of his sister. And even thinking of the fact that he had to leave her behind to escape their parents almost blows the lid off his carefully contained emotions. He wants to badly to accept the kindness they are offering, but he can't.
He's sitting silently in the dining room picking at the amazing food Alfred made. He can't eat it like he wants to, he can't say puns, he can't do anything because then they will find him. He is sitting there when, unbeknownst to him, a man by the name of Ra's al Ghul decides to make is monthly attempt at claiming Danny's foster father as his son and heir.
Danny keeps his fear and surprise under wraps when fucking ninjas burst through the windows showering the room in glass. He clamps down on his pain when a knife whips past his face, nicking his ear. But he can't keep a hold on his anger when Cass has to dodge another knife.
His rage explodes out of him as all the suppressed emotions and all the carefully contained ectoplasm warps his face into something more monstrous and ghostly. He lunges through the table, using intangibility for the first time in months to grab a ninja who was threatening Dick with sword.
"YOU DO NOT HARM THEM!" He roars before throwing the ninja back out the window and all the way across the manor grounds.
His face twists even more as his fangs stretch and his core thrums with his fury. The remaining ninjas are unconscious in a matter of moments. They dare to attack the first people to genuinely care for him other than his sister and his friends. They are alive, and that is the only mercy he has for them.
In the silence that follows, his breathing sounds loud. His tongue flicks from his mouth to lick the trace of blood from his ear even as his ectoplasm closes the wound without even a scar. He looks around at the knocked out foes and the wide eyed members of the family.
For the first time in months he allows himself to feel grief. They could have been everything. A new family, a second chance at a normal life, his chance to be free of those who hunt him. Not any more. He looks around as tears burn at his eyes.
"I- I'm sorry." He whispers. Then He runs, transforming into his ghost form to fly as fast and as far as he can.
i went extremely feral when i saw this prompt, and now i have a fic. full c1 below the cut, ao3 is linked
1/?
C1 (and prompt) / C2 / C3 / C4
“Are you sure about this, B?” Dick checks. “Usually, when you take in more of us, you’ve… met them first.”
The two of them are in the study with the main Batcave entrance, which only happens when someone’s procrastinating going into the cave, or is making sure the room looks reasonably used for how often the family goes inside it. Dick’s loungeing in the corner, staring blankly at a random book he pulled off the shelf. Bruce is at the desk, squinting at the computer monitor which is likely too old to be reasonable by now, but nobody’s bothered to replace it.
Bruce’s response is, as always, a few seconds of stiff silence, then a hum, which translates to: I have a bunch of feelings about the current topic which I do not currently feel like discussing. He follows this with, “Considering the boy’s trauma responses, especially in situations such as a Joker attack, it’s reasonable that he is holding valuable information.”
“Mhm,” Dick responds flatly, because Batman has no child informants, and doesn’t plan on gaining any. Down the line, it’d be pretty handy if that turns out to be true, but if Bruce is openly admitting it, it’s at the bottom of his priority list. Not that he can get Bruce to admit that any time soon. “So, how long do you think it’ll take him to find the cave?”
“Dick,” Bruce grumbles.
Victory.
I’m going to keep all of my ao3 fics hidden from guest users until I know that rivd isn’t going to be an issue. I’m sorry to those who enjoy my stories, but the fact that this site not only takes the content, but seems to display the content with no way to take it down, does not sit right with me.
Chapters: 1/1
Words: 8,081
Summary: Lena doesn’t completely register the first time she calls for Uncle Scrooge, in the midst of an adventure.
She’s been on plenty by now, but that doesn’t make her heart rate spike any less when someone puts themself in the direct path of danger, and mushy things like feelings don’t tend to care whether or not they’re the most experienced person there.
[5 times Scrooge aquired the Uncle title, and 1 time someone else got there first.
A 5 +1 fic in which Scrooge radiates such Uncle energy that slowly but surely, he collects a bunch of kids. As told from said kids’ perspectives.]
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not the most proud of this one, but i figured i should put it up anyways since it’s 8k of commitment. hey ducktales folks!
Chapters: 1/1
Words: 1666
Summary: “We’re out of leftovers,” Alya grumbles as she walks back over to them. She leaps over the couch, landing half on top of Marinette.
Nino is not jealous. He is not.
[A sleepover in which Adrien learns how to make pasta, and Nino learns that Adrien is distracting. That’s it, that’s the fic. Written for days 2 and 7 of adrino week.]
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Posting this a little early because I have to wake up annoyingly early tomorrow, and I don’t know when I’ll have time to post.
Chapters: 1/1
Words: 1330
Summary: Maybe Alya should be calling Nino sunshine, when he’s got that serene smile on his face that can light up the whole room.
[Adrien is a big fan of Nino’s music taste, and will compliment him on it to the very end. They’re both awkward, but this is Miraculous, so that’s nothing new.]
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I’m going to try and do adrino week! No guarentees that it’ll all be done. Or, uh. Good. But I’ll try!
Chapters: 1/1
Words: 3,023
Summary: “In the heat of battle, you will not be awarded a few more minutes? You will only have a few seconds! And those seconds will be the few between life and death, and not always your own? You must learn, Raphael!”
Leo clenches his fist and grits his teeth. We are.
(Draxum is not the best teacher, he’s focused on a war that doesn’t seem to even exist. Written for the prompt “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.”)