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luxaofhesperides · 5 months

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Ghostlights as college roommates and maybe some identity shenanigans thrown in would be so fun! Maybe dannys doing a little vigilante work on the side as well to up the secret identity mayhem

Danny would like to say his college career is going well. Gotham isn’t where he was expecting to pursue higher education, but the engineering scholarship he got through the Wayne Educational Foundation was just too good to turn down. It even covered the cost of an apartment! Although, the apartment is shared with another student who got a Wayne scholarship.

Even with that, Danny lucked out and got a great roommate. Duke Thomas is chill, kind, respects Danny’s space and doesn’t throw wild parties or invite random people in at all hours of the day. He even joins Danny twice a week for study sessions!

Really, it would be the perfect college experience except for one thing: the ghosts.

Danny thought they’d stay in Amity Park. They had no reason to stray from the city where the portal was, and his parents are more than enough to keep most ghosts away. It took his friends, Jazz, and even Vlad to convince Danny that he wasn’t abandoning Amity Park and that the city wouldn’t fall while he took a few years to focus on himself.

He worried right up until he got to GCU and walked the campus for the first time. Then he decided to enjoy the four years he had on the scholarship to get his degree and live his own life like a normal person.

To say he’s pissed about the ghosts is an understatement.

The one thing he was looking forward to most is not being Phantom. Gotham is home to the Bats and they’re more than capable of handling everything in the city. It means there’s no need for him here and he can focus on school and enjoy going on invisible flights without worrying about being hunted down or having to fight a ghost.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” he mutters under his breath as he feels the familiar chill race up his throat, A cold mist wafts out of his mouth, curling around his words, and Danny quickly ducks his head and hides it from sight.

“Did you say something?” Duke asks, looking up from where he leans against the kitchen counter, squinting at a recipe on his phone.

“Nah,” Danny lies. “Just stressing.” He gestures to the papers he has spread out on the dining table, then stands up. “I’m gonna take a walk. Maybe that’ll get my brain to work correctly tonight.”

“Got your phone on you?”

Danny reflexively drops a hand to his pocket, checking that his phone is where it’s supposed to be. It’s what Duke asks every single time Danny mentions going out, worried about Danny being unprepared for Gotham. It’s nice of him, though Danny does wish he can say that he’s survived a lot worse than a few muggers.

“Got it.”

“Alright. I’ll try to work on dinner while you’re out.”

Danny nods and offers Duke a small wave before pulling his shoes on at the door. He grabs his keys and heads out, double checking that the door is locked behind him.

Then he glances around the hallway, checking that the coast is clear, and pulls up the chill of awareness in his chest. Slowly, he breathes out, watching the blue mist waft out and lead towards the stairwell.

“Wonder who it is this time,” he mutters to himself, going into the cold, concrete stairwell. It always feels a little off in there, as if he’s been removed from the rest of the world when the door closes behind him. His footsteps echo oddly in the space, so Danny chooses to fly instead, keeping his feet off the floor.

A few flights down is when he sees her: pale and translucent, a faint blue glow around her. She’s a familiar face. Emilia is one of the first of Gotham’s ghosts he’s met, leading to the rather unpleasant realization that ghosts don’t only come from the Infinite Realms. There’s a strange sort of magic in the very foundations of Gotham that makes it the way it is, creating ghosts that are different enough from what he’s used to that it leaves him off balance.

Gotham keeps her dead. Few get to pass on peacefully, and most have to wait until they grow weak and wither away, a second death, before they can be released from the living realm. The ghosts of Gotham are pale and weak, for the most part, and try to cling to him so grow stronger from his ectoplasm.

Most want him to help them pass on, or give them a way into the Infinite Realms. Some want him to bring justice to their killers. Others want to kill him and take his ectoplasm for their own so they can continue their reign of terror in Gotham, unable to be stopped even in death.

Emilia gives him warnings. It’s not always her, but she tends to be the one to draw him out of his apartment, pulling him into a vigilante lifestyle because he can’t bring himself to refuse anyone who asks for his help, and the dead in Gotham have no one else to ask.

“Danny,” she greets. “Nueve is out again. He’s going after the ghosts near Chantilly Street.”

“The sun isn’t even down yet,” Danny grumbles. Nueve, an old gang enforcer who died a few decades ago, cannibalizes other ghosts. It doesn’t destroy the other ghosts, not really, but it makes them feel pain when they shouldn’t be able to feel much at all. Taking their limited reserves of ectoplasm makes him momentarily stronger, and he uses that stolen strength to try to harm the living.

He’s been successful a few times. Danny makes sure to rip him apart as much as possible these days; he won’t be here forever, but he’s hoping that within his four years at GCU, he’ll be able to permanently stop Nueve.

Times like these, he misses having a Fenton Thermos with him. Though he’s not entirely sure it would work on Gotham’s ghosts with how different they are.

Emilia follows him down the stairwell to the ground floor. Once there, Danny shoves his hand into the floor, taking out the backpack he’s hidden in it. He’s done this change of clothes so often he can do it in just a minute now, hiding his face and pulling on gloves beneath a large hoodie with old ectoplasm stains along the sleeves and hem. A gas mask is pulled on as well, covering the bottom half of his face, a necessary addition to his Ghost Work Outfit™ after he almost got caught in some Fear Gas during Scarecrow’s last attack.

“Alright,” he says, “Lead the way.”

Emilia takes off through the wall and Danny hurries to follow, going invisible as he hits the streets.

It’s still early evening, the sun not yet fully set. Plenty of people walk along the sidewalks and cars pass by endlessly, honking at each other as they try to go twenty above the speed limit. Danny does his best to avoid running into everyone, deftly dodging the reaching hands of a few ghosts who spot him as he sprints by.

They only go a few blocks away from his apartment building, turning into a dead end alley where a group of teens (living, for once) are stuck with their backs to the wall, clinging to each other as they warily watch the man in front of them carelessly twirl a gun around his finger.

The man makes a strange clicking noise in the back of his throat, and it takes Danny a moment to realize that he’s trying to talk.

Still invisible, Danny sneaks around to stand in front of the teens, ready to bodily protect them. The man looks alive, and Danny see any ghosts around save for Emilia, standing at the mouth of the alley. There’s something strange about him; his movements seem just a little off, not quite as fluid as they should be. It’s not the movement of someone on drugs. It’s something that screams uncanny valley.

The gun’s handle drops solidly into the man’s palm. He makes another few clicks, then raising the gun to point at the teens.

“Bad idea, pal,” Danny says dropping his invisibility. The teens behind him startle, gasping and trying to press themselves further into the wall.

The man’s eyes flash weakly and the pieces click into place in Danny’s mind. Nueve must have gotten strong enough to possess someone. That is… alarming, to say the least.

He rips the gun out of the man’s hand and tosses it aside. Then he pushes away the man’s arm when Nueve makes a clumsy attempt to punch him. With his chest left wide open and undefended, Danny takes the chance to shove his hand into the man’s chest, feeling for the familiar chill of a ghost.

And then he wraps his fingers tight around it and pulls out Nueve, leaving the man to collapse.

The teens behind him scream and Danny winces.

Pulling out a faintly glowing human figure from someone’s physical body does not look good. It’s the best way to end a possession, but it does look alarmingly like he’s just ripped someone’s soul out of their body.

Keeping hold of Nueve’s ghost, Danny steps to the side. “You guys should go now. Take care.”

The teens don’t need any more prompting. They take off in a run, tripping over each other in their haste to get away.

Danny spares a glance to the man unconscious on the ground, but there’s nothing he can do with an angry ghost in his hands, so he has no choice but to leave him there as he flies up to a rooftop farther down the street.

“How many times do we need to do this, Nueve?” he asks tiredly, shaking the ghost.

“These streets should be mine!” Nueve howls, trying to break free of Danny’s grasp. But he’s quickly growing weak, his energy fading, and Danny’s holding back his own ectoplasm as tightly as he can. “They may have killed me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still take what I’m owed!”

“Dude, you’re dead. There’s nothing here for you. Move on.”

“You don’t get to speak on this, outsider. You think a freak like you has an say over us? You can’t stop us. You don’t even know what’s coming.”

Danny squints at him. “What, are you planning a heist or something? With your gang of dead people too weak to lift a piece of paper?”

“We’re not all dead. We’ve got living folk helping us and we’ll be taking you out first when we hit the streets.”

“Good luck with that,” Danny says flatly, “Begone with you.”

Without giving Nueve a chance to say another word, he rips Nueve’s head off his body. His ghost wavers, then dissipates like smoke, fading away.

Another side effect of whatever it is Gotham does to her dead: their ghost forms are remarkably fragile and it takes only a bit of strength to tear them to shreds, giving him some peace before they reform again. It won’t stop Nueve from striking out again, gathering enough strength until he’s able to possess some other unfortunate soul, but Danny’s bought himself some time to figure out what the hell was he talking about?

There are living folk involved with whatever he’s planning. It’s probably another gang, maybe someone with magic who is able to see ghosts? Which is not great. Danny doesn’t know much about magic; even when facing ghosts who used magic or magical artifacts, his go to method of dealing with them is to start throwing hands like there’s no tomorrow.

Well.

It’s a problem for later.

For now, Danny needs to get back to his apartment and work on his calculus homework. Hopefully he can finish it before he gets frustrated enough that he gives up and lies face down on the floor until Duke manhandles him onto the couch, where he’s less of a tripping hazard.

He’s just about to get back to street level when his Fenton Luck strikes again and he hears someone land on the roof, just a few feet behind him.

“Hey there, stranger,” the Signal says. “You know, we run into each other so often it feels rude not to introduce ourselves. Why don’t you go first?”

Danny turns to face the daylight vigilante, standing with his arms crossed as if that would make him look any more approachable. He’s been popping up wherever Danny’s out dealing with ghosts, which is very not great for Danny’s plans to have a peaceful, normal college life.

Biting his tongue, Danny gives the Signal a quick two fingered salute, then goes intangible and drops down through the building. His invisibility sweeps over him and then he’s running through the streets, hoping it’s enough to keep the Signal from following him to his apartment.

He skids to a stop in the stairwell, dropping his intangibility just in time to crash into the wall. Panting, Danny waits for a tense minute to see if he’s been followed.

When the door to the stairwell remains closed, he lets out a slow breath, then pulls off all the pieces of his Ghost Work Outfit, shoving it back into his bag. He takes a moment to fix his hair, messy from the hood, then shoves the bag back into the floor, safely hidden from curious eyes.

Then he very casually walks up the stairs to the fifth floor and walks down the hallway to his apartment. His keys clang together when he opens the door, and Duke usually hears it when it does, but just in case, Danny calls out, “I’m back!”

He’s learned to announce himself after a few late night walks almost ended with him tackled to the floor when Duke thought someone was breaking in.

Duke doesn’t respond as he toes off his shoes. The stillness in the apartment feels off, as if the world is holding its breath. Cautiously, Danny walks in, trying to find his roommate.

He’s not in the kitchen. The living room is empty. Duke’s bedroom door is open and he’s not in there either.

Something cold lodges itself in his chest.

“Duke?” he tries again, looking over their apartment again for any sign of struggle, or something terrible happening, or even a mess that Duke needed more supplies to clean up.

There’s nothing. The apartment is as it’s always been, just with an empty space where Duke should be.

Worried, Danny stands in the middle of the hallway, trying to figure out what he should do next. It’s because he’s standing so still, surrounded by silence, that he hears it: a light thud outside the window.

Danny turns and he can swear he sees something large moving outside the window, disappearing from sight just as Danny takes a step into Duke’s room to check on it. He rushes to the window and pushes it open, looking down at the street, then side to side, and finally up to the last three floors of the building.

Nothing’s there.

Slowly, Danny pulls his head back inside, closing and locking the window. “Must be my imagination,” he says, trying to convince himself it’s not a big deal.

He leaves Duke’s room and begins pacing down the hall, anxiety building steadily in him.

His phones in his hand before he can think his actions through, Duke’s contact pulled up on the screen. He should call. He should make sure Duke is okay, but Danny hesitates. Is this something to be freaked out over? Would Duke thing he’s clingy and nervous and a bothersome roommate? He doesn’t want to risk Duke asking for a new roommate next year when the lease renews.

But he’s worried. It’s Gotham and Danny just dealt with a violent, murderous ghost threatening him. Duke can deal with a stressed out, worried Danny if it means he’s alive.

He hits the call button before he can talk himself out of it. It rings on and on and on until Danny starts to panic about having to find Duke’s ghost to avenge his murder.

The front door is thrown open so suddenly and so loudly, Danny jumps and his phone clatters to the floor.

“Danny! Hey!” Duke says with a bright smile, trying to catch his breath. He’s still holding onto the doorknob, slightly hunched over as he pants for breath. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m totally fine.”

“Where were you?”

Duke straightens up and closes the door, kicking off his shoes. “Oh, just… out. Shopping. For dinner.”

Danny looks over his empty hands doubtfully. “No luck finding what you needed?”

“Nope!”

“What did you need? Maybe I can go to a different store and get it for you.”

“You don’t need to!” Duke says. “I just needed… tomatoes?”

Danny blinks at him. “We have tomatoes. Did you not know we had tomatoes in the fridge?”

“Oh, do we? Good to know.”

There’s something very weird about this conversation, but Danny doesn’t pry. Duke is weird sometimes, but it’s fine because he kindly ignores some of Danny’s oddities that come from being a halfa and a semi-retired hero.

“Do you… maybe wanna sit down? Catch your breath? I can make dinner tonight if you want.”

Duke waves a hand in the air. “No, no, it’s fine. I got this. Anyways, how was your walk?”

He definitely shouldn’t talk about the cannibal ghost and his threats to take out Danny with his gang. “It was nice. Very quiet. You know, for Gotham.” He punctuates this with an awkward thumbs up and immediately regrets it, but it’s already done so he commits to it.

“Cool! Great. Just wondering, did you see anything weird?”

“Depends on what you’re asking about?”

“Just some guy wearing black with a hood covering his face. He’s been active in this neighborhood and I saw some people talk about him online. Apparently he just appears out of thin air.”

Danny tries not to wince. That’s him, alright. Gotham’s newest neighborhood menace. “I don’t think so, but there’s a lot of people in Gotham that were all black and walk around with their hood up.”

“True,” Duke concedes. “Well, just be careful when you go out, alright?”

“I always am.” He gives Duke the same two fingered salute he gave the Signal. Duke stares at him for a moment, eyes dark and almost dangerous, then he smiles and walks into the kitchen.

“Wanna make dinner with me? I think we can figure out this recipe together. Unless you need to do your homework.”

“It can wait!” Danny hurries to join Duke, grateful for an excuse to push off calculus a little longer. He understands what he’s doing in the class, there’s just… so much work. He doesn’t even want to think about the tests. The tests make everyone cry.

“Alright, let’s get to it, then!”

“You’re in charge, chef,” Danny says, laughingly, and bumps against Duke’s side. He expects a light shove in return, something Sam and Tucker always did, but Duke goes tense instead, letting out a sharp breath that Danny is all too familiar with. “Wait, why are you hurt? What happened?!”

He goes to lift up Duke’s shirt to inspect his shirt, see the damage for himself, but Duke smoothly moves out of the way, grabbing Danny’s wrists and stopping him in his tracks. “I’m fine, Danny. I just got hit. Lightly. Minor bruising, really.”

Danny looks at him doubtfully, then wrenches a wrist free to lift up his shirt before he can move again.

Minor bruising is not how Danny would describe the blues and purples that decorate Duke’s entire side. He can see the outline of Duke’s ribs through the bruising. “How is this being lightly bruised? What hit you?”

“A car?”

“A car?!”

Duke winces, then pulls his shirt down. “I’m fine, Danny, really. It was just from a car that didn’t want to stop at a red light. I stopped another person from being hit, but the car got me pretty solidly. You know how bad Gotham drivers are.”

“Sit down!” Danny says, pulling Duke out of the kitchen. “I don’t understand how you’re still standing. I’ll get some ice, and I’ll handle dinner. You just stay there and stop pushing yourself for no reason.”

“Playing nurse for me now?”

“If I have to.”

“Would you wear a nurse costume for me, too?” Duke jokes.

Danny looks him dead in the eye and says, “If I have to. Would that make you follow my instructions? A tight little nurse dress?”

Duke sputters, cheeks darkening, and looks away. Danny grins, victorious, and darts back to the kitchen to grab an ice pack from the fridge.

“Maybe I’ll wear one for you anyways, once you’re all healed up. Only if you’re good, though.”

“Danny, you’re killing me here.”

“Better me than a car.”

Duke laughs and takes the ice pack, pressing it against his side carefully. “Oh, for sure. Thanks, Danny.”

“Hey, what are roommates for?” Danny shares a warm smile with Duke, then pats his shoulder and heads back to the kitchen to start making a simple pasta dinner.

Life in Gotham is weird and stressful and full of ghosts and heroes who won’t leave him alone. But it’s not all that bad, really. He’s happy with how he’s doing in college, and he’s beyond lucky to have Duke as a roommate. So long as Duke never finds out about his halfa status, then he’s sure they’ll be able to last all four years rooming together.

He just needs to keep a secret.

Shouldn’t be too hard, right?

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #dpxdc fanfic #my writing #prompt fill #3.6k.... still counting this as short. i have not failed yet at my goal of keeping these fics below 5k!!#i love this prompt so much it even got me making ocs... i love making ocs this is such a treat for me #will 100% be revisiting this prompt in the future to turn into a longer fic bc i have SO MUCH to write for this #had to cut it off here to have just one scene that shows them as roommates w secrets #truly a struggle to keep this short. this could easily be 30k. the amount of identity shenanigans i can write....#also playing around with the cursed gotham thing by making it affect ghosts :) perfect excuse to make my own gotham lore :)#btw duke 100% got injured chasing down criminals and thats how he got hit by a car. he wasnt fully lying abt it #he also tried to come in through the window of his bedroom. saw danny. quickly left and went up the stairs like a normal person #duke has his suspicions. danny is trying so hard to mind his business when duke acts strange and secretive #disaster in the making :)#thanks for the prompt!!

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shriekinghavoc · 2 months

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Two point perspective practice- this kicked my ass!

Please enjoy Mizu standing in front of Eiji's house.

#blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu #pencilcat challenge #artists on tumblr #artists of tumblr #'i'm not going to spend too much time perfecting these prompts and force myself to work through them!'#and then #dear reader #he proceeded to agonize over every hue in this piece #artonly #finding refs for this was a pain thanks for not letting me screenshot netflix

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nelkcats · 1 year

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Not an Atlantean

Since Clockwork informed him that his wail had evolved, Danny decided that he should try it. But he couldn't do it on land since he would destroy the whole place so he flew to a desolate place in the sea. He was sure that he could test it without destroying anything there.

When he finally decided to use it he noticed that his wail had sung to some sort of cry of suffering. Which wasn't much different from before but it made him sound like a wounded animal. Danny frowned wondering if that meant the old ghost with "Banshee".

To the citizens of Atlantis, Danny sounded like a wounded merman. But while some features fit right in as soon as they peeked out of the water (the fangs, the green eyes, and other features), they noticed that he had no tail...maybe he was only a descendant?

Arthur, excited to teach the human about his true ancestry, came out to congratulate him. The halfa was very confused when they led him to Atlantis. Noting that the boy could perfectly survive underwater, the citizens of Atlantis "confirmed" their suspicions. The boy was a descendant of their people, but how could they ask him without bringing back bad memories?

On his part, Danny was very confused, but everyone was extremely nice (he didn't notice that his ghostly features could easily be mistaken for another creature). Honestly, the halfa was more interested in asking how the stars looked like from the open sea.

After a while Danny noticed that something weird was going on (everyone was too shy??) and Arthur kept talking about letting him stay in the palace and learning directly from the King. Well, the halfa still didn't know where he was or what was exactly happening but seeing a King would surely help him when he was crowned so what could go wrong?

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spaceratprodigy · 3 months

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(palette challenge) PINK LEMONADE OR WATERMELON FOR DELIRIS ⁉️⁉️⁉️

@oldworldwidgets — [ palette prompts ]

WATERMELON LEMONADE DELIRIS 💖💚

#💖💛💚❤#I am on my hands and knees rn #I had so much fun playing around with the colors and seeing what I could do with them #only the slightest of tweaking to the palette I wasn't vibing with one color so I made it a pale yellow #and then said fuck it and added a darker yellow as well #for you my darling we get the best of BOTH palettes combined 😈💅#this came out soooo cute and dreamyyyy #ALSO MISS DELILAH IS ALWAYS DROP DEAD GORGEOUS OKAY I CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF HER #just gals being pals adoringly staring into each others eyes or whatever #THANK YOU FOR THE PROMPT AUD THIS WAS PERFECT #I'm going to be eating this piece forever I can't stop looking at the girls #they deserve to be happy and the soft expressions are making my heart explode 🥺#ANYWAY #I am going to be rotating teddy and zinnie in my mind now at high speeds #ily ily ily blowing you so many kisses rn #my art #friend oc #sole survivor #fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #also sobbing over the new snake patch on iris's jacket okay I've been so excited abt that one #it'll stand out more in her regular palette but aaaaa I intend it to be the same color as delilah's eyes :]

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pearlcaddy · 1 year

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lockwood & co appreciation week 💀 favorite ship

Locklyle [insp]

#lockwood & co #lockwood and co #lockwoodandcoedit #l&coaw2023 #anthony lockwood #anthonylockwoodedit #lucy carlyle #lucycarlyleedit #locklyle #locklyleedit #tvedit #userbelin #pearlcaddyedit #pearlcaddy l&co #500 #i was going to do another chapter of my fic for today but i'm sick yet again #my other edits are already done so maybe i'll get time and energy to finish it before the week is up but if not please have this #can't believe today's prompt of all days is the one i phoned in so hard 😂 i remain a locklyle stan first and human second #the original text post is perfect for them so hopefully this looks okay #i'm already regretting the last gif because i know it's going to be a bat signal for book fans to give me teg spoilers in the tags #hate that i already know the vague shape of that spoiler because of book fans in the tags #generally begging people to be more considerate with how they interact with show fanworks

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tanglepelt · 7 months

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Dc x dp idea 135

Jack and Maddie accidentally de-age Danny. Of course toddler Danny doesn’t have good control of his powers. Cue reveal.

Danny bolts.

This could be good parents. Could be bad parents.

Cujo decides Danny must be protected. So he takes position of guard dog. Danny just roaming city streets with a green giant dog. Multiple hero’s report the meta child with flying dog.

And the armed RV chasing said toddler.

#dpxdc #dpxdc prompt #good boy cujo #the Fentons could be searching for him cause the think they killed him #the ray turned him into a ghost #they have to help him #now they have a ghost son #they need to review their entire life’s work #or #decide Danny isn’t Danny #and just the perfect way to help their research #it’s what Danny would of wanted #meanwhile heros are chasing this toddler #who could walk through walls disappear and fly #with the dog who won’t let them near

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citrusinicake · 1 month

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Vitalasubzam Week 2024 1st day: Flowers / Symbolism

since this day is about flowers and symbolism ofc i went with hanahaki

notes:

dandelions indicating zam is p obvious -- after all thats what the guy uses himself -- but the fact that they, or more specifically their seeds, are tied to wish-granting adds a neat layer to it i think considering zam's symbol of being a star (in my interpretation) also ties in to wish-granting

this whole thing is based on zam going "subz can fix me," and while i didnt know how to portray it without making an entire comic which i didnt really wanna do, he actually doesnt want the flowers gone he just wants subz to stitch not just his chest close but also his mouth

i was originally gonna make the thread purple but decided to go with green

the x's, while supposed to be tied to the whole stitching theme going on, are red instead of green because of zam

i had trouble picking the bg color cause on one hand i wanted to make it dark but on the other hand i wanted the focus on subz despite the composition which would need a lighter color, in the end i chose the same white as zam's shirt cause i like that it made him look cut off

zam has no nipples cause his species (skyformes) are homunculi in my Minecraft LoreTM (he should also have way more scars than just his neck but i havent decided where to put them yet)

this was actually drawn right when i changed zam's design to have red teeth but it made making the dandelion seeds visible a nightmare so i decided to just keep them white in this drawing

#gore cw #hanahaki cw #vsz week 2024 #mcytshipping #lsshipping #subzam #sunshield #itzsubz #princezam #added note unimportant to the image but putting here in case i forget:#subz' violet arm pattern thing is supposed to evoke something between veins and gem cleavage #(taking the pattern of veins but more angular like gem cleavage)#changed subz' hairstyle to a messy choppy fucked up braid cause aparently zam said having a braid reminded him of subz #(havent gotten to that part yet so idk if theres any specifics or whatever)#also got some other ideas for this day but idk if i can get to them in time #if i did then yall will be seeing them too ig lol #but if i dont then just know that princess irene tulips are perfect for vitalasy while blue diadem cornflowers are perfect for subz #also also am gonna be trying to see if i can combine each days prompts rather than just one or the other #lets see if im successful lol #mine.art

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vox-ex · 8 months

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Give me your hand

SCBB 2023

Kara just wants to protect Lena, but when has it ever been that simple. Over the course of one night, Lena and Kara let fear and ghosts unravel as they learn how to hold onto each other again.

Read it here or on AO3

_____

I had the unexpected chance to write something else for this year's @supercorpbb and I am so excited for you all to see the art that was the reason I was expected to say yes to the opportunity! Please go take a look and send some love to @guessimreallyhere

_____

Lena sighs, rolling onto her back as she listens to the raindrops ping off the windows before they made their way to the pavement below, the monotonous rhythm making the city feel heavy and frantic despite the late hour and stillness of the streets. Her fingers trace the path of the fading bruises and angry red lines of shallow cuts that stood in stark contrast to her pale skin—every mark on her body, a testament to the cruel irony of the unforgiving laws of motion.

It had been an almost tragedy in three acts.

The burst of heat that came first, the explosion that came after, but like always — never quite the fall.

Only Kara.

Her body in front of her.

Her cape spread around her.

Her weight pressed against her.

One body in motion meeting another not.

And how many times must Kara have caught her in the same way?

Held her in the same way?

But the universe does not concern itself with those kinds of odds.

And so the fall did come, after all, just in a different way.

Lena could still feel the ghost of her arms around her. She winces as she recalls the sound of her ribs cracking under the impact of them. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the anguished look on Kara's face when she realized what had happened — the frantic look in her eyes, the trembling in her hands, the breathless apologies that slipped out over and over and over through lungs that couldn't hold enough air to keep up.

She turns and glances at the clock— 11:50pm — she wonders how it was possible it could be the same day still, time feeling as fragmented as the rest of her. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she feels the ache of her body and the deeper pain of something else. She pulls a coat over the sweater that hung loose from her shoulders, the smell of sun-drenched wool and worn leather mixing with the heady scent of rain and asphalt as she stepped outside.

----

Kara's knees buckled as she landed heavily, the floor creaking beneath her, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. She pressed her shaking hands hard enough against her ears until she could almost forget the sound of Lena's body hitting hers.

Too hard.

Too fast.

She had been too slow.

Too uncontrolled.

And she should have stayed.

But didn't.

Couldn't.

So she left.

Ran. Flew.

She flew so fast the city underneath had blurred, luminous smears streaking across her vision like stars disappearing until they became indistinguishable from every other bit of sky and stars and empty expanse of space she ever found herself in. Maybe she's disappearing again too. Maybe she never came back. Maybe she shouldn't have come back.

"I'm sorry," she whispered over and over and over. "I'm sorry," her broken voice matching the hurried but steady rhythm of Lena's distant heart, promising her at least one more chance.

But how many times had she saved the world, only to fail again and again at protecting one single person in it, the same single person in it?

How many more chances could there be?

The cape on her shoulders felt heavy and cumbersome.

The sigil on her chest pressed in against her lungs.

It felt hard to breathe with them on.

Hard to stay standing.

She tore and pulled at them both until they lay in a pile on the floor.

What good had they done anyway?

She sank down beside them.

What good had she been anyway?

----

Lena pulls the key to Kara's apartment from the patterned groove it had worn into her pocket; the edges softened a little by its use over the past weeks.

But unlike the quiet that used to greet her, that only ever felt empty, this quiet was overwhelming, like it had a weight to it.

Pieces of Kara's suit littered the floor, rain pooling under the heavy fabric.

"Kara?" Lena whispered as she moved into the room.

"Don't!" Kara's choked sob broke the imprint of stillness.

Lena could barely see her pressed against the shadows.

"Don't," Kara said again, almost a plea, quieter, softer, but no less desperate. Her shoulders trembled, the hands knotted in her hair and around her knees, trying to hold herself together. She looked as if she had been put away in pieces, too.

Slowly, she lifted her head, her eyes meeting Lena's for the briefest of moments before she looked away, tears glistening on her cheeks. "I can't," her voice raw with pain. "I hurt you — I always hurt you."

Lena kneels down next to her, her hands and her heart, aching to prove her wrong.

"I think we've both done our share of hurting each other."

"I just want to protect you, but instead, every time, every single time, I just..." Kara murmurs, her breath hitching in her chest as she fights to keep the panic at bay.

"You did protect me," Lena cuts her off gently. The words you 'you always have' left for another time, another conversation.

"These hands," she said, reaching towards her slowly.

Kara's gaze flitts between Lena's eyes and her hands.

"They're not going to hurt me," Lena assures her. "Trust me," her fingers brush against Kara's arm, the contact fleeting but grounded with intention, "trust that I know what I can bear."

"You shouldn't have to bear it." Kara looks away, her hand twitching, open and close, open and close.

"Kara," Lena reaches for her hand,"...can I just..." fingers brushing against trembling skin.

Kara closes her eyes, and gently, Lena draws both their hands up, fingers laced together.

She had become familiar with Kara's touch. With its strength. With its warmth. Its gentleness. Its tenderness. It is a wonder that her hands alone never gave her away. But it has been a long time since they have been close in that way, have let themselves be close in that way, were allowed to be close in that way.

She had missed it — missed her.

Had ached to see if was still as she remembered it.

It is.

She remembers it again in the gentleness of fingertips that lift her chin, tilting her jaw to ease away the purple and blue edges blooming under her skin. Feels it again in the warmth of her palms as they press just under the hem of her shirt and across the skin they find there.

"Even after everything I've done?" Kara asks, her voice cracking under the weight of guilt and doubt, and every other ghost lay bare. "Even after all the pain I've caused?"

"Hey, look at me," Lena urges gently, her fingers curling around Kara's wrists to draw her gaze upward, pulling Kara's focus back to her.

"It's not your decision. I choose to bear it because I choose you. Just like you bear everything for me...choose me." Lena replies firmly, her gaze never wavering from Kara's tear-streaked face.

"Okay," she whispers, the word fragile. "Together."

"Always," Lena vows.

----

Slowly, Kara's hands become her own again.

When they do, she reaches up once more.

Gently, she brushes a strand from Lena's face, tucking it behind her ear. Her finger lingering, tracing one more time the line of Lena's jaw. They stay a little longer this time, and she can feel the way Lena turns into the touch, the way she lets her head fall just a little into her hand. She thinks maybe it says something about the irrationality of the universe that one of the heaviest things she has ever carried would fit so perfectly into her palm.

"You're cold," she murmurs, more fact than question, feeling for the first time the small shivers and flecks of rain on Lena's skin.

Lena nods, the movement barely perceptible, and something unspoken passes between them – a quiet understanding, a shared vulnerability.

And with a gentle determination, Kara does the thing she wished she had hours ago. She takes care of her. She leans in just a little first, reaches out slowly, gives Lena time to pull away or maybe herself to, but neither of them do. Kara slips her arms around her then, one threading itself under her knees and the other around her back, and as she stands Lena curls towards the warmth of her chest.

Together, they move through the dimly lit room and Kara sets her on the edge of the bed.

"Let me get you something to wear" she says softly, turning around to pull out a heavy sweatshirt and a pair of soft cotton boxers. Lena winces slightly at the pull on her bruised ribs as she lifts her arms up to take them and Kara's brow creases with concern.

"Do you? C-can I?" she tries to get the words to settle into any one question.

"Just the sweater maybe."

Their hands work together once more, easing the slightly damp sweater over Lena's head.

She's slow and careful still, will always be careful with Lena, the word itself repeating over and over with every brush of a hand against chilled skin, with every trace of fingertips along the small scars she found both old and new.

She didn't realized she had stopped, her thumb running back and forth, back and forth, over one small scar at the base of Lena's collarbone, until the lilt of Lena's voice breaks through.

"Hey. You with me still?"

Kara looks at the scar, but it's not guilt that settles in her stomach, it's something else.

"I won't always be able to protect you."

And this was a different kind of confession altogether. Because even if Kara could protect Lena from her, there was a whole world set against them too.

"No, no you won't."

Lena puts the sweatshirt down in her lap and places her hand over Kara's chest instead.

"But I won't always be able to protect you either."

Kara looks down at the sweatshirt again, notices the faded MIT logo, realizes that she wasn't the one who put it in her drawer, places it instead in her mind among the other peices of Lena she had been finding in her apartment since she'd been back. Little hints of how the world had moved without her in it, the people that came and went. Those that stayed.

She lifts Lena's hand off of her chest. Presses a kiss to her palm before letting it back down.

She turns away to give Lena privacy, feeling a gentle tug on her arm when she was done changing.

"Lay down with me" she asks, but it isn't really a question.

Kara nods all the same, the mattress dipping under their weight, but it settles quickly, as do they. It's odd to feel so still in the aftermath of so much motion.

"I like that your hands are always so warm," Lena said, her voice barely more than a breath. "I missed that."

"Really?" Kara asks, her heart swelling at the admission.

"Really," Lena affirms, her own hand coming up to cover Kara's where it rests against her cheek. "I always noticed it, but then we weren't close anymore and then you were gone. So it's... it's a reminder that you came back, but also that I am close enough to know that about you again."

Kara lets her forehead rest against Lena's, breathing in the comforting scent of her. The rain that still clings lightly to her hair, dampening Kara's shirt, but she doesn't mind. She would ruin every part of herself long before she let go of her again.

"It was always cold there. I don't um, I don't usually feel cold here, but there, it was always cold. And dark. And the darkness could have been okay I think, after everything, it's something that I've learned to carry with me, but the cold just never went away. I still feel it sometimes. When something goes wrong, or when I worry something isn't real, my hands get cold and there's this moment where I'm sure I'm there again."

Lena brings her hand up resting it over Kara's heart as she tucks herself into Kara's side just a little further. Kara releases a shaky breath, focusing on the sensation of Lena's touch. Any cold quickly receding.

"You're here."

"I'm here." She confirms, tightening her hold on Lena, drawing her in, before pulling back just a little, brushing her thumb over her cheek.

"And you're here."

Lena's eyes flutter shut at the contact, hands coming up to grasp loosely at the front of Kara's shirt.

"I am."

And the world, with all its uncertainty and ceaseless motion, seemed to be held back, at least for one night, by that one piece of tangible proof.

----

Kara had laid awake all night, daring the darkness to try and take this from her, too. But it was dawn now, and there was nothing left to fight. Lena was still there. She could still feel where her fingers had passed through the ends of her hair, could still feel where she had left kisses pressed into her skin, could feel the weight of her head laid across her chest and the warmth of her body next to hers.

There had been no ghosts to chase away that morning. There was only Lena. Nothing but Lena. Nothing but Lena's hand as it slid along her ribs, nothing but her hair as it brushed her bare skin, nothing but her breath against her ear. Nothing and everything tethered together. She realizes then she was clinging to Lena, her arm trembling to keep her close. As if to say to gravity and anyone else that they couldn't have her yet. But when Kara looks up at the corners of the room; they were bright in a way that hadn't quite reached the rest of the room yet, like the world too was giving them just a little more time together before the rest of it demanded their attention.

And she would have lied there just like that until it did. If not for the gentle press of a kiss against her cheek.

Kara tilts her head down to look at Lena, who was staring back at her with a soft smile.

"Good morning," Lena whispers, her voice still heavy with sleep.

Kara's eyes trace the morning light spreading across the healing bruises on her skin and in the flecks of gold in her eyes.

"Good morning," Kara replies, her voice barely above a whisper still weary of the world pressing in and still hesitant about her ability to keep it out, to protect Lena from it and her and all the other things that could cause her harm.

"Cold?" Lena asks, running her fingers through Kara's disheveled locks, pushing them out of her face. The question heavy with what it really asked.

"No." Kara shakes her head, cupping Lena's cheek, her thumb running over the delicate skin.

"How about you?"

Lena reaches across and takes Kara's other hand threading their fingers together and holding their joined hands up for Kara to see.

"Never with you"

Kara sits up, pulling Lena gently onto her lap. She runs her hands along the bruises she could see and the ones she couldn't. If she couldn't always protect her then she could at least always be there to take care of her. And for all the times she hadn't before, she lets herself in that moment ask forgiveness. Lets her body and her hands and the gentle press of lips say all the things she should have all along.

#sg prompts #supercorp #supergirl #scbb 2023 #supercorp big bang 2023 #scbb things #listen they all just need hugs #and a break from the universe messing with them #back on this thing called angst with a hopeful ending #I love it when artists and writers get together #please go take a look at the artwork #it’s perfect

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pinkpastels113 · 5 months

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Bechloe accidental first kiss

Beca, of course, had always thought about kissing Chloe. She’s beautiful, warm, and quite frankly the whole reason Beca is having such a great time at Barden. Beca’d come to the realization that she had a crush on her best friend ages ago, and every day that came after that was just another day that Beca had to stifle the urge to do just that.

She thought about how soft Chloe’s lips would be- she always saw her reapply her chapstick religiously- and dreamed about how cute it would feel like to stand up on her tip toes and wrap her arms around Chloe’s shoulders. She wanted to have Chloe hold her as more than a friend, in places more than just the couch in the Bella House.

Beca is not completely sure that Chloe likes her back- no matter what Stacie or Emily or anybody else says- so that’s why she hasn’t yet made her move. She’s not a complete wimp- she’d made out with Jesse in front of all those people in Lincoln Center after all- but she is not going to be rejected by her best friend, damn it. Beca doesn’t think that she can’t take it, the awkwardness nor the loss of friendship. Chloe is her favorite person, ever, in the world, and Beca doesn’t know what she would do with herself if she ruined that.

The only problem was, Chloe is touchy. She touched Beca everywhere, on the arm whenever she laughs, the hand whenever she wants to listen to some music that Beca had mixed, the waist whenever she wishes to get by. Normally Beca is used to it, but sometimes she still gets caught off guard and jumps whenever she is not paying attention.

Such as today.

"Okay, okay," Chloe says, trying to catch everybody's attention. "We have the decorations here, Jessica and Ashley are going to put on the music, and Beca is laying out the cookies. The Trebles are going to be here in about an hour girls, let's move it."

Why Beca had agreed to take care of the baking, she does not know. Certainly not because Chloe had tried her mom's chocolate chip cookie recipe last week and begged Beca to recreate it, that's just too pathetic.

Beca sighs, folding in the chocolate chips. She has one more step to go, and then she can shove them in the oven and never think about it again. Chloe can take them out. It was her idea anyway.

Finished with gently laying in the chocolate with the dough, Beca goes to look for the scooper. She opens the drawer where they usually keep it, but it's not there.

"Hey, Chlo! Where's the scooper? I need it for the cookies."

"Hm?" Chloe glances back over her shoulder from the living room, where she is taping a string of Christmas lights from the ceiling. "Oh I think I have it in my room. I used it last night for some ice cream."

Beca raises her eyebrows. "For some ice cream? Really? That's like... a pretty big spoon, don't you think?"

Chloe huffs, rolling her eyes. There is a smile on her lips and Beca is proud that she placed it there. Teasing is too much fun. "Well I have a pretty big appetite, especially for sweet stuff like ice cream. You know that."

"Uh huh." Beca is already washing her hands and making her way into Chloe's bedroom. "I should have put salt in these cookies then, so you wouldn't eat them all."

Chloe's room is a mess. Books on her bed, clothes on the floor, bra hanging over a desk chair. Beca tries not to stare at it as she turns around in a circle to locate the ice cream/cookie scooper. Knowing Chloe, it could be under her bed for all Beca knew. She was just about to bend down and pull the comforter over when something catches her eye.

A journal. On Chloe's pillow.

It was open to two pages, left side scribbled on, right side with a drawing. Ethically, Beca knows that she shouldn't, but curiosity gets the better of her when she sees something written in Chloe's loopy lettering that might be her name. Stepping over a novel from some Russian author, Beca picks the journal up.

She barely had time to register that the drawing was of her bent over her laptop when Chloe pinches her waist. "Hey I found it-"

Beca practically jumps out of her skin at the sudden contact. "Jesus Chr-"

Chloe's mouth brushes the corner of Beca's. They both freeze. Beca's hands slip on the journal balancing in her palm and it tumbles down to her feet but neither seems to notice. They're too busy trying to understand what just happened. Beca's face is turned towards Chloe's and her heart is making itself known in her ribcage with the speed at which its beating. Her brain sizzled and sparked like a backup generator kicking into gear in a blackout.

They're still standing two inches apart. Beca's eyes look into Chloe's and Chloe's look back, both surprise and a little bit of fear reflected in those bright blues. Chloe seems to hesitate, before pulling her hand away from Beca's body. When Beca didn't make an effort to move, or push her away, Chloe swallows, and opens her mouth.

"Look, Beca, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

Beca blinks. Dazedly. "What?" Holy crap, Chloe Beale just kissed her. "About what?"

Chloe gestures between them. "That." Her breath is warm and smells like candy, and god, her lips look so soft. "We shouldn't have kissed. I scared you, and you hadn't been paying attention, and I really do want to kiss you, like so so freaking bad, but like not like this, and I'm sorry that if this means that our friendshi-"

And this time, Beca kisses her. Because Chloe just confirmed that she likes Beca back, and Beca is not a wimp. She kisses her like she imagined she would, and her arms wrapped around Chloe's shoulders and her feet goes to stand on tip toes and Chloe's smile is indeed soft and sweet and tastes like candy and Beca is so glad that she agreed to bake her cookies tonight.

Chloe pushes Beca down onto her bed. Her teeth nips on Beca's bottom lip before trailing to her neck and Beca can feel herself shiver. "You really shouldn't have been going through my journal, either, y'know."

"Yeah well, I have a pretty big appetite, especially for mysterious stuff like journals. You know that."

Chloe laughs, right into Beca's skin. Her fingers brush on Beca's thighs and Beca starts, again, because she really doesn't think she can ever get over Chloe suddenly touching her in all the right places. "I do now."

#anddd this got out of hand as expected #dont worry guys they went back out to finish them cookies after making out #bechloe #bechloe fic #pitch perfect #pitch perfect fanfiction #w writes #anon asks #send me (short) prompts lol

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