Is It Human (secular American) Grave/shrine, Or Is It Some Alien Type Of The Deal. On The One Hand, It
Is it human (secular american) grave/shrine, or is it some alien type of the deal. On the one hand, it would make sense that for Danny, they would make human memorial, but on the other, it would be really cool of his alien and otherwise non-human teammates if they made it their way and he as a certified space nerd would appreciate it.
...
Unholy amalgamation of best from everything. How concerned would adult heroes get after that.
I am curious how that would look if there is any material to go off
Dc x Dp prompt
Danny has been working with the YJ for months, and he offhandedly mentioned he doesn’t have a grave. After Raven/one of his rogues explain why that’s a big deal, they decide to make him a grave/shrine. Danny loves it, and it can work as a way to call him in a pinch.
The Justice League and Justice Dark are at Young Justice headquarters, and notice the shrine. They are …. Concerned.
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More Posts from Wandixx
Can we focus on the "#she makes it a point to leave flowers at it whenever she can" tag for a moment because imo it's just so sweet and I want to explain why.
Mostly because she is an Amazon and lived in this society for majority of her life. What does this change in this situation? Amazons are based on Ancient Greeks and from what little I know about their funerary traditions (I should change it ig, gimme links if you have something good), they were quite different from nowadays. Like, they gave their dead a coin (or three I haven't read reliable source on that and what I did contradicts each other) so they could get a ride on Charon's boat. There is probably much more to it but once again, I have no idea. But the thing is, I don't think they actually were giving their dead any flowers. So for Diana, Amazon born and raised, when she has to show a respect to the dead flowers aren't first instinct. So this means she repeatedly went out of her way to honor him in a way appropriate to his culture.
Now, don't get me wrong, I love idea of people honoring Danny in a way appropriate to their culture, I brought up this idea literally yesterday on other prompt but I need you all to see how absolutely precious it is this way.
It's a difference between telling someone "I love you" in your mother tongue and explaining what it means and learning how to tell it in their language. Both causes cavities but the second one just hits different
Phantom, the newest addition to the Justice League, pulls Wonder Woman aside.
He has...a strange request.
He's nervous, flustered, fading in and out of the visible spectrum. It's clear that what he's about to ask of her is important to him, and even though she has an uncomfortable voice in the back of her head telling her this young hero is about to ask her out, she resolves to listen before she jumps to conclusions.
She's glad she did.
"Can...can you put a grave for me in Themyscira? I know it's just for women, but it's the safest place I can think of for it! I just...I don't have a grave, and Clockwork says it's starting to stunt my growth as a Ghost, and I have too many enemies on American soil, so. It's okay if you say no, though, I'll figure something out, it's fine."
Diana lets him ramble to the end, already knowing what her answer is going to be.
"We would be honored to host your grave, Phantom. Do you have any remains I can take home? Do you require a funeral service?"
Phantom looks...he looks beyond grateful. Close to tears.
"No, no remains. A symbolic grave is fine, it just. It has to have my real name on it, my mortal one." He says, looking hesitant. "Please don't reach out to my family, Wonder Woman. They don't know."
With that, he hands over a small slip of paper, torn from a notebook and clearly folded one too many times.
She takes it as though he were entrusting her with the rarest diamond in the world. She wants to, but she does not ask how they could not notice the death of someone so very bright.
Instead she nods, tucking the paper away.
Phantom will get a grand grave, one worthy of a friend to the Crown of Themyscira. She will ensure it.
I wish you a happy new year 2024!!!
Reblog if you write fanfic and would be totally down with your followers coming into you askbox and talking to you about your fic
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Gotham mourns the day of Jason's death, and Tim Drake should too, but he can't.
It's a day of pain and sorrow in many, many ways. Bruce wakes up earlier and leaves earlier, and Alfred speaks softly and quietly, as if there's real grief in the air.
(There is. Tim knows. He remembers finding out about Robin, about Jason Todd, and then realizing the bitter truth behind it all. Robin is dead.)
In the beginning, people used to call Jason a street kid, a rat. Tim's memory has always been fantastic, and he remembers people's harsh words about that young, young boy, and how Bruce Wayne was fraternizing with poverty, while others were kinder, gentle and sweet, because if even a rich man like Bruce can do such a thing, then there's still hope. It was stupid, and Tim still can't understand how people can be so shallow.
Such a young boy, and Mr. Wayne was a hero by adopting him, by taking him under his wing, by treating him like his son.
It's been months, and yesterday Wayne Enterprises made a big donation to some shelters of homeless kids that is definitely going to be in the news, something about Bruce Wayne remembering his dead son's life.
Bruce took the day off.
It's weird. Every year, Bruce will mourn like Jason was just killed again.
Maybe. Maybe the Jason Todd he knows really is dead forever, and this version of him is what was left, something different and twisted.
If Tim tries hard enough, he can feel the scar on his scalp, the ugly pattern on his skin, close to his nape. And he can hear the shouts. And the screams. And the sound of broken glass being stepped on. Everywhere. And blood blood blood, a red mask standing over him, fists clenched and hoarse voice.
He feels like throwing up when he thinks about it. It's kind of hidden in his mind, but not exactly—a blurry memory.
Sometimes, he closes his eyes and has a flashback of a bloody uniform. A memoir. The uniform of a young soldier.
For some reason, the second Robin was known for being ruthless. Sometimes, in the past but not that long ago, Bruce would call Tim by Jason's name, and wouldn't even notice his mistake. Tim wouldn't correct him either.
Today, on day of Jason's death, Red Hood is nowhere to be found.
Big boots, strong arms, a gun. Sticky blood.
Replacement, Replacement, Replacement.
Now, they're in the Batcave, high-tech equipment everywhere around them. Tim is standing but Bruce is sitting down, typing something in one of the computers, because a day off as Gotham's bachelor doesn't mean a day off as Batman.
"B," Tim says. Soft but not too soft, because Tim isn't supposed to talk about today, not like that, not like it's easy.
Robin was created to save and to smile, never to suffer or to die.
"Hm."
"Are you okay with patrolling on your own?"
Say no, so I'll stay. Please. I'll sleep here, in my room, and we'll wake up tomorrow like this day never happened.
Please.
"Of course. You should go, Tim. It's late."
Never too late. He wants to stay. Bruce is big and tall and Tim wants to hug him and tell him about the scar that is never going to fade away and the blood and the glass.
Look what he did to me. I mourned too, but look what he did.
Anger is something no Robin should feel, and yet—
Tim's cheeks are suddenly warm and he looks away from Bruce.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Alfred can give you some food so you can eat when you get home."
"I'm not hungry. And I can cook, you know?"
Blue eyes, just like Tim's and Jason's, but Jason's are also kind of green. Tim wonders how much of a father figure Bruce used to be—did he buy Jason books and toys and watch movies with him? Did Jason have nightmares just like Bruce still has? If so, did Bruce hold him through it?
Tim's parents are traveling. They're coming back next month.
Bruce isn't there to hold him when he wakes up in the middle of the night, but why would he be anyway?
And Tim knows Bruce asks his next question more because he needs to than because he wants to, "You know you can stay the night whenever you want, right?"
Even tonight?
"Yeah. Yeah, I know, B. But I have school tomorrow, so… I should—I should go. See you tomorrow, kay?"
Tim doesn't even talk to Alfred about the food. He just leaves.