It's Always One Of Them

Jason: yo, whatcha doin’? Damian: *arms crossed, glaring out the window* Father forbade me from moving out Jason: well you are like fiv— Damian: is this not called the land of the free? Jason: Damian: how can I be free, held within these walls like a canary in a coal mine? Forbidden from spreading my wings? Jason: bro you ain’t even in middle school yet, turn off the teenage angst and have one of the cookies I brought you Damian: *huffs and petulantly accepts the cookie* Jason: why’d’ya even wanna move out anyway? Damian: Jason: Damian: . . . Father said he would not allow me to house a tiger here, which I find unacceptable Jason: Jason: you. Have a tiger? Damian: *frowning* have I not mentioned this before? You must have seen her during your time in the League, Akhi. She was but a cub then Jason: KID, YOU KNOW I WAS HIGH AS A KITE ON GREEN ANGER JUICE WHILE I WAS RHERE. THE ONLY THINGS I CARED ABOUT WERE YOU, THAT ONE DESSERT MADE IN THE KITCHENS WITH RICE, AND THE EXTREMELY ENTICING IDEA OF BURNING THIS MANOR TO THE GROUND. YOU KNOW MY MEMORY OF THAT TIME IS SPOTTIER THAN DICK’S ABILITY TO ACCEPT PHONE CALLS. WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I WOULD REMEMBER A FUCKIN CAT? I AINT EVEN A CAT PERSON Damian: *arches brow* really? You were the one to help me bottle feed her. She slept in your lap most nights. Jason: Jason: this is manipulation Damian: 🥺 Jason: Jason: fine. She can stay at my house. But you’re explaining this to Dickie.

Star Wars prompt! So there are several Jedi with specific force-granted powers through the unifying or living force. Mace with shatterpoints, etc. But what about someone like Obi-Wan, whose connection was to the Unifying but was trained in the Living by his master? The manifestation of Force abilities as something that is related to both halves of the force, such as seeing auras, etc? (sorry for incoherency)

i did some googling and a lot of thinking; considered and disregarded several options and ended up with this weird little thing:

Keep reading

Phantom Manor

Danny had been through a lot. He’d been half-killed in a lab accident, gained ghost powers, and then been chased through the multiverse by a government that would’ve loved to dissect him like a frog in eighth-grade biology. So when the portal spat him out into this dimension—one packed with capes, cowls, metas, and aliens—he figured he’d finally caught a break.

No GIW agents. No Fenton parents shouting about ectoplasmic anomalies. No Skulker showing up to hunt him down in the middle of English class. Just... peace.

Well, almost.

The major snag? He was homeless. Again.

No ID, no money, and the last place he tried to haunt had been a warehouse with exactly three raccoons who did not appreciate his presence. He couldn’t go back to school, didn’t know how to get a job, and sleeping on rooftops got old fast, even for a ghost boy.

That was when Danny heard the most ridiculously useful rumor ever: Billionaire Bruce Wayne had a habit of adopting black-haired, blue-eyed children like it was a competitive sport.

And Danny? Well, he had black hair and blue eyes... at least half the time.

Good enough for government work.

So one night, in the dead of moonlight, Danny phased through the locked gates, passed the high-tech security system, and slipped straight into Wayne Manor. The place was huge, quiet, and oddly comfortable despite its bat-themed overtones. He didn’t even try to sneak around like a spy—he just floated through until he found an empty bedroom with a made bed, thick curtains, and a view of the garden.

He claimed it.

No one said anything.

So Danny just... stayed.

Danny didn’t mean to con anyone. It’s just that no one noticed him. He figured maybe there were already so many black-haired, blue-eyed kids around here that adding one more didn’t even make a blip on the radar. And since Jack and Maddie Fenton may not have taught their kids about interdimensional politics, they did make sure their kids had proper manners.

So, the first time he ate in the massive kitchen, he washed the dishes afterward. Alfred showed up just as Danny was drying the last fork, his sharp eyes watching from the doorway.

“...I see Master Grayson’s taste in midnight snacks has rubbed off on someone,” Alfred remarked.

Danny froze. “Uh—yeah. Sorry. Just thought I’d clean up after myself.”

The butler narrowed his eyes. Then nodded. “A rare instinct in this household. Continue.”

And from then on, it became a routine.

Danny helped in the kitchen. He helped clean the manor. He weeded the garden (phasing out any actual creepy-crawlies). He carried laundry baskets. He repaired a broken picture frame. When one of the Batmobiles needed a patch-up job on a fin, Danny phased into the engine and fixed it from the inside out while humming along to an old Ghostbusters theme remix.

Alfred was absolutely delighted with the newest, polite, respectful, and hard-working “Wayne.” Even if he had no earthly clue when exactly this young man had joined the family.

It took a few weeks before anyone realized something was off.

“Alfred,” Bruce said over breakfast one morning, “why is there an unfamiliar teenage boy pressure-washing the back patio with what looks like... green plasma?”

Alfred sipped his tea without looking up. “That’s Master Daniel. He’s been most helpful.”

“…We don’t have a Master Daniel.”

Alfred finally looked up, deadpan. “Master Bruce, I have tolerated you bringing home orphans like stray cats in the rain. The boy helps clean. He gardens. He fixed the coffee machine. I will not be chasing him out. Adopt him, give him a room, or be quiet about it.”

Bruce blinked. “...Fair.”

Meanwhile, Danny was just glad he hadn’t been blasted with a Batarang on sight.

He had a bed, food, quiet (well, relatively), and access to the Wayne library’s wi-fi. He was pretty sure Damian glared at him more than necessary and that Jason kept trying to figure out if Danny was secretly a zombie, but otherwise?

He was kind of fitting in.

At least until someone walked in on him halfway intangible while reaching through the fridge for leftover pie.

“…Master Daniel,” Alfred said from behind him, entirely unshaken. “If you are going to help with the silverware later, do remember to phase after you wash your hands.”

Danny, still half inside the fridge, stared.

“…Yes, sir.”

And thus, somehow, without anyone signing a single form or asking too many questions, Danny Fenton became the most ghostly Wayne sibling yet.

And honestly?

He was kinda cool with that.

Modern AU meetcute where SY gets into an argument for the ages on a shitty webnovel forum with some guy with a super pretentious username/pfp combo.

Their rants back and forth spawn so many copypastas. All eyes in the fandom turn to whatever the fuck is happening other there, people are taking sides, it's getting intensely personal. Two trolls, both alike in indignity, in fair Verona the Discord where we lay our scene. The comment sections are a warzone, and friendships are ending in DMs.

The mods want to ban them, but this is also the most active the community has been in a long time, and frankly, it's more interesting than the current arc of the actual novel, so...

They eventually meet in the course of them both trying to dox each other. It's the most confusing whirlwind romance any of their family or friends have seen in their lives. They announce out of absolutely nowhere in the forums that they're dating.

It does not end the argument that started this.

It goes on for another three weeks, completely dominating the forums and comment sections and community servers, until they both get banned for Shen Jiu making a "credible threat of violence" for saying he's going to shove SY down some stairs alongside a photo of SY's actual stairs at his actual apartment. (That wasn't even the point of his comment! It was 8k about how SY was misinterpreting the themes, why was everyone being so sensitive about that one silly little throw-away sentence?! Ridiculous!!)

The next anyone hears about either of them, they're fucking married. They are, baffling all, very happy together.

Drew my favorite grass type, Floragato!! :3

Mace just loving on his grandbaby

AU where in order to be able to secretly hang out with his favourite league bro, after he gets to Gotham Damian creates a second secret identity which is literally just him in a voice modulated motorcycle helmet so he can be Red Hood’s occasional sidekick without the bats knowing it’s him, except the issue is that Damian has a lot of ‘old man’ energy surrounding him. from his weirdly mature posture, his manner of speaking, to the odd knowledge he possesses that a child of his age should NOT have; when you can’t see any part of his head, theres pretty much nothing pointing towards the fact that he’s a little kid. this leads to Hood’s subordinates instantly assuming that Hood’s sidekick is not, infact, a child, but instead a very small man/somebody with some kind of dwarfism.

Jason honestly isn’t sure whether or not he should correct his men, because on one hand its kinda funny to watch Damian awkwardly interact with this group of people who clearly think he, like them, is some 30yr old geezer with a possible wife and kids at home, not to mention its a secret identity for a reason he doesn’t want to leak information for no reason-

but on the other hand they keep offering his kid brother beers and cigarettes. which.

Goon: hey man, you see the game last night? fucking wild.

Damian, spent last night letting Tim teach him how to play with Pokémon cards but doesn’t want to seem immature: …yes. i did, indeed, watch that game.

Goon 2: fucked up that that last play wasn’t called out; the bar practically rioted. hey you should come with us next week for the next game, let us buy you a beer or somthin. Hood tags along with us sometimes, should be fun!

Damian:

Jason, struggling not to laugh:

Damian:

Damian: i have prior engagements.

Goon 1: haha, let me guess, your s/o dont want you out late?

Damian:

Damian, leaning in to Jason to whisper: what… what is an ‘s/o’

Jason, coughing to cover laughter: they uh, they think you got a wife or a husband waiting for you at home.

Damian:

Damian, turning back to the goons: i… have no idea what to say right now.

Jason: *pats him on the shoulder* alright buddy, you go finish up the weapons shipment, dont worry.

Jason to the goons, after Damian leaves: recently divorced, sore subject.

the goons: *empathetic hums of understanding*

~

Goon: here man, have a drink to take home with ya *tries to pass Damian a bottle of whiskey*

Damian: um.

Damian: *slowly edging forward to hesitatingly take the bottle, for lack of knowing what else to do*

Jason, bellowing from across the warehouse: OI!

Damian: *freezes, bottle in hand*

Goon:

Damian:

Damian: *slowly, ashamed, passes the bottle back*

Jason: THATS WHAT I THOUGHT.

Goon: uhm…

~

Goon: hey, boss? why wont you let the new guy drink?

Jason:

Jason, doesn’t want to out Damian’s identity: he’s a recovering alcoholic. im his sponsor.

Goon:

~

Damian, on the way back to Jason’s apartment: Todd.

Jason: mm?

Damian: one of your men asked if i had any chiropractor reccomendations for back pain.

Jason: *bites lip*

Damian: how old do they think i AM?

Jason:

Jason: i may have implied somewhere in your fifties.

Damian:

Damian: WHY WOULD-

Jason: IT SEEMED FUNNY.

Bunny AU for Cryptid :3

Air lock

MIND HONSE..........