I have a DP x DC AU brainworm about Danny and Tim being long lost siblings (twins or otherwise).
Because both of them have faced evil future versions of themselves who've almost ended the world in some way through altering time. If Clockwork had been watching Danny's world-ending timelines, then who's to say he wouldn't keep tabs on Tim's as well?
Imagine that the brothers had to be temporarily separated at a young age to ensure a peaceful future. Danny had to be in Amity Park to gain his ghost powers and become the new Ghost King. Meanwhile, Tim had to stay in Gothem to become the new Robin, something he'd have been less likely to do if Danny stayed in his life.
However, their separation was only supposed to be temporary. What if both Dan and Future Tim were from futures where they never reunited as teens? Heck, what if both of them were from the SAME future?
The Nasty Burger explosion happened, Danny killed Vlad and absorbed his soul, and became Dan. Dan grew too powerful for the GIW to handle anymore, so the government tried reaching out to the Justice League. But oops! Future Tim already killed off and tore down that whole organization, meaning the world no longer had it's protectors to stop this new foe.
Though they were strangers, the future brothers unwittingly collaborated in sealing the world's fate.
Back to the present, the Observants wanted Clockwork to get rid of Danny and also Tim before that timeline came to pass. What they didn't understand was Clockwork's plan.
See, the Infinite Realms needed a new monarch to replace Pariah Dark, but not just anyone would do. In timelines outside of Dan's future, the U.S government would've started a war with the Infinite Realms anyway. One that would guarantee Earth's destruction and offset the balance of other realms near it.
The war is set to start in Amity Park, but the information blackout is preventing it's citizens from getting outside help. Mid-to-late teen Danny can't bring down the Anti Ecto Acts alone. He'd be struggling to keep the Realms beings from invading his home as it is. And the government's iron grip on the city makes it nearly impossible for news to get out to the masses.
Danny being the brother of a vigilante detective across the country is another story.
Batman's mentorship would give Tim the training needed to eventually track down his lost sibling. And through Red Robin's connections to the Justice League, Danny could get help overturning the Anti Ecto Acts while he keeps declarations of war at bay on his end. Danny and Tim's combined efforts could be what's keeping the world at peace instead of ending it.
Long story short: Clockwork kills two birds with one stone by uniting a pair of long lost brothers through the prevention of an interdimensional war.
342 notes
·
View notes
i was hoping to make a post like this under happier circumstances, but here goes.
as some of you know, everything with the cancellation and renewal campaign has happened right on top of the worst part of my mom's cancer treatment (plus the show was cancelled on my actual birthday 💀). i won't go into details, but it's been tough. lots of ups and downs, mostly downs, luckily ending (for now) on as much of an up as circumstances allow. the whole thing has been weirdly tied to the cancellation for me, kind of amplifying every feeling. the grief got mixed up, and there was so much of it - mourning the loss of the kind of future i thought i'd have with my mother and the time we might not get, mourning the end of a show that means so much to me and is such a big part of my life. different types of grief, sure, and of different magnitudes, but in one big ugly swirl. i sort of had a breakdown right at the start of february, and it was because of news about my mom, but it morphed into my brain telling me everything i'd ever written was shit and wanting to delete it all. stuff like that, spilling over.
anyway. i was holding off on writing this post to see if the show got picked up by someone else. but i still want to say it. because what also spilled over was the support and community from this fandom, and being in this space (despite the rough times and high emotions) helped me through it, because of all of you here. whether we talk regularly, or you left a comforting reply or simply a like on one of my posts about having a hard time (i tried to keep them few), or wrote a nice comment on a fic, or said something funny or nice or insightful in the tags of a gifset, or was active here (or on twt) in any way, talking/sharing/creating stuff about the show - THANK YOU.
you all helped me through all the ups and downs, and i am so grateful. thank you for being here, listening, distracting, helping me feel some joy despite the horrors. i love you and i love this incredible show and all it has brought and will continue to bring and inspire, and although it should go without saying, i'm not going anywhere. just do me a favor and give yourself a big ol' hug from me, and know that you made a difference for some random guy on the internet (but in reality for many more, and for this fandom as a whole, just by being here and being you) 💕
129 notes
·
View notes
I mean, I can't NOT prompt "Emotions are a luxury I don't have time for." with Dreamling 👀
🤘 five-and-dimes
OKAY ADMITTEDLY it does fit Dreamling very well doesn't it—? I was going to give half an hour per piece and accidently digressed way too much with this one..... whoops...? Thank you for the prompt dear 🥰💖
Dreamling || 1,174w || lowkey hurt/comfort but with ~hope
▾▾▾
“Don’t you feel anythi— fuck.” Hob stops, forcing the words back down with a thick swallow. He cannot afford himself to speak in anger, no matter how badly it burns in his veins, no matter how scourged by Dream’s aloofness he is. It doesn’t matter that he should have the right for anger. Dream is simply not a being you could, or should, be angry with if you hope to keep him in your life.
Angry or not, justified or not. Hob wants him in his life, very much.
“Dream, listen.” Hob starts, running a hand over his own face, nails scratching uncomfortably over the side of his cheek. “I get it, okay.” He really doesn’t but this is not the point “but seriously, you do have feelings, I know that you have…” his voice wavers and he gestures at the space between them, unable to voice it lest Dream would flee again. “Please.” his voice strains with the burden of it all. Wanting so much, needing so much—being forbidden from even voicing it, let alone having it.
"Emotions are a luxury I don't have time for.” Dream’s voice is deep, booming, as aloof as it could possibly get. He sounds like he’s reading a ready-made script, like he’s following the lines long since prepared.
Hob recoils, physically takes a step back, wants a distance between himself and Dream’s rejection. He should have expected it, in fact, he assumed he might get worse and yet— “Bulshit.” The short silence that follows is pregnant with tension, both momentarily silenced by Hob’s boldness. Hob is as surprised by it as Dream, apparently is.
Dream comes around first, eyebrows knotting, storms cracking in the depths of his eyes. His lips thin, the corners tug down and then he opens his mouth to deliver what Hob is sure would be either a really bad reprimand or his final words to him.
He cannot have it. If only for the simple fact that he doesn’t only want Dream in his life, but factually needs him. He doesn’t know what’s life would be worth without knowing that in the end of every story there will be Dream to share it with, a confidant, a keeper of his journey.
“I think that you’re afraid—” the words rush out without a thought, he steps forward, hurrying to finish before this would blow out of proportion “—because I know that I am petrified.” The words burn true on his tongue, there’s a dull ache in his chest, his lungs feel too full and empty of air. “I am horrified that you might leave, I am terrified that you might not lo— accept this, I am…” he swallows, his throat is closing with the emotion of it all. He cannot stop, not now that he had finally started. “I get it Dream, I know that you are, that we are… different but…. “ His hand falls by his side, no amount of gesturing would express what he feels.
He runs out of words. He was so certain he had them all when this conversation started, now he can hardly even remember what brought it about. He didn’t prepare for it as well as he thought, he doesn’t know how to word it, how to phrase it in a way that would convince Dream to give this, them, a chance. Damn.
His chin drops and he stares at the ground, burning disappointment makes his hand tremor. He closes his fist.
He is no poet, no storyteller, no writer. He is no Dream to pick and choose the right words. He’s only a man. Only a man who loves a being beyond his comprehension, very, very much.
Fuck, fuck it all. Fuck. He is about to lose him, isn’t he?
The pain in his gut is a twisting thing, like a knife slicing through the guts. Shitty death, he’d know. He dares to glance up when Dream doesn’t speak, half expecting to see him gone. Instead, there’s something softer in Dream’s eyes when he meets them. For the first time, Hob’s attention is drawn to the unnatural void in those eyes, the glint of distant stats. This is…
“Am I…” his mind struggles through the spell of dizziness, his consciousness readjusting its grasp of the surroundings. The shadows are longer, the shapes are bent a little too far, the colors are not quite right.
“I am dreaming.” He understands when he finally sees the landscape for what it is, Dream, for who he is. “Oh shit.” His cheeks color red, he is aware of the incredibly uncomfortable material of the shirt he used to wear some few hundreds years ago.
“I yanked you into my dream, haven’t I.” This is, even more than before, not how he had hoped to confess. Not even close.
“Hob,” Dream’s voice bleeds to every fiber of the dream-scape, infusing it with power, making it feel tangible, more clear, in focus. “You dream very loudly.” There’s an odd note to his voice, if Hob was to attempt and pinpoint it, he’d have to admit it sounds like astonishment.
“Sorry,” he answers, abashed. “I, uh, suppose you can’t just…” he gestures at his own head with a motion that resembles wiping chalk off of a board. “Maybe…?” he adds, hopefully.
He doesn’t regrets his feelings. He would, though, like to at least be awake when Dream rejects him, It feels only proper.
The idea of simply not raising it up at all is one that had crossed his mind frequently, and yet he knows that sooner or later he’d slip again, that he wouldn’t be able to to continue pretending like this isn’t an integral part of who he is, like this isn’t something that he feels.
Sooner or later, he’d tell Dream of The Endless that he is helplessly, hopelessly, truly and deeply— in lov…
A finger again his lips distracts him from his thoughts. “Very loudly.” Dream scolds quietly, wistfully. He sighs then, the weight of it almost buckles Hob’s knees. Dream seems to ready himself, like he is expecting a great deal of suffering and is braving himself for it. He looks exhausted. Worn down. Won over.
Hob immediately dislikes that look, it speaks too much of Dream’s past. Too much of what had made Dream as closed off as he is. Too much of what hurt him so badly. Hob wants him to be…
“Very well, Hob Gadling.” Dream’s words distract Hob from his thoughts again “We shall speak of it further in the waking world, according to your wishes.” Dream looks away into the distance, his finger lingering on Hob’s lower lip, it’s cool. “I must go now, so long.”
He does not sat farewell. Hob’s mind centers around it. Between one eye blink and another, Dream is gone, golden sand scattering behind.
“What…?” Hob’s mind is already fuzzing into an incoherent haze of shapes and shadows, only distantly concerned with what just transpired.
Only vaguely he wonders if he should feel loss, or…not?
119 notes
·
View notes