#There's a mug in the manor

[alienzil]

Okay so I saw this post and you know the types of fics where adult Danny moves to Gotham and winds up emotionally adopting one or more of bat kids or accidentally coparenting with Bruce (with or without a relationship between them)? I had the thought, what if Danny parented the bat kids but he started doing it out of spite?

Like, Danny moves to Gotham and runs into Batman and Robin one night while out for a late night flight and drops down to the rooftop to say hi.

Bruce sees this 5'6" twink that looks like a stiff breeze could knock him over and is so obviously new in town and thinks Gotham is going to eat him alive, he needs to leave before he gets killed.

Batman: Looming menacingly and in his deepest scariest Batman voice, "Leave. Metas aren't allowed in Gotham."

Danny: Offend! Excuse?! Who does this guy think he is?! 😡 Danny was trying to be polite here! "First of all, I'm not a meta. Second of all, rude much?!"

Batman: Does scariest bat glare. "Leave." Swoops off into the night.

Robin (Damian): "My father is correct. You should leave the city for your own safety."

Danny sees this tiny vigilante child with fierce expression and a sword and is just like awww, so cute! 😍 Then he noticed Robin had a small cut on his arm and his inner gremlin activates. If the rude flying furry can't take care of his own kid properly, Danny will do it better!

He bandages up Damian's arm, gives him a cookie and teaches him a neat sword trick before sending him on his way with a hug telling him he needs his sleep.

Danny goes out of his way to run into the bat kids and be the absolute best dad.

He takes Nightwing flying and throws him in the air so Nightwing can do all the fanciest acrobatic tricks.

He tracks down Red Hood and starts a book club with him (Danny may or may not have used his connection with Ghost Writer to get ahold of some rare books).

He eats waffles with Spoiler and trys out weird topping combinations that make them both make faces and laugh.

He makes new gadgets for Red Robin but carefully breaks them just a little bit and takes them to the teen so they can fix them together (it's enrichment!). He always insists RR keep them as a reward.

He follows Signal around during the day invisibly, making faces and doing tricks only Signal can see (he made him laugh in front of the police at a crime scene twice!).

All of the kids get his attention and love and Danny smugly thinks how Batman must be absolutely seething about his kids bonding with Danny and Batman missing out on all of it.

Danny started it out of spite but he does wind up genuinely loving the bat kids.

Batman definetly hates it when the kids are bonding with Danny and is extremely jealous (sulky Batman brooding in his cave about it).

Bruce's repeated attempts to intimidate Danny into leaving Gotham don't work and him telling his kids to stay away from Danny had zero effect (the terrible children don't listen to him at all).

So Bruce starts spending more time with the kids to compete against Danny. The bat kids love it and (little gremlins that they are) use the two of them against each other constantly.

Bruce:"Sorry Tim, I can't make it to your photography exhibit this weekend, there's a meeting with the Justice League."

Tim:"Oh that's fine... I'll just ask Danny to come." 😏

Bruce: Narrows his eyes and grits his teeth, "Actually, the Justice League needs to have contingencies in place to manage without my input. This would be a good time to test their capabilities. I'll skip the meeting and come to your exhibit."

With both of them competing to spend more time with the kids it leads to the two of them spending time with each other to be around the kids more.

After Damian catches a terrible flu bug, Danny spends an entire weekend at the manor babying him. This is when Bruce finds out Danny has known their secret identities for months and tries to get mad about it but Alfred puts his foot down, raises a judgmental eyebrow in Bruce's direction that puts a stop to that nonsense and sets up Danny with his own room in the family wing.

Eventually, Danny gets to the point where he spends most of his nights at the manor and he and Bruce consult each other on all major household decisions.

The whole family is at the manor one morning including Danny. Bruce has a meeting at WE and he and Danny are absently discussing their plans for the day at the breakfast table.

Bruce: " The meeting should take most of the morning and then I have paperwork this afternoon and a scheduled walk through on one of the new engineering projects. I probably won't be done by the time school let's out. Can you pick up Damian today?"

Danny: "That shouldn't be a problem. Would you mind swinging by the bookstore on the way home and getting my preorder? Jay and I just finished rereading the first book and we were wanting to start the second tonight before you all go on patrol. I'd rather not try to make it to the bookstore in school rush hour traffic"

Bruce: "Sure."

Stephanie watches Danny reach out and absently straighten Bruce's tie as they both get up to leave. Bruce grabs Danny's coffee thermos and hands it to him while they walk out the door.

Stephanie: "Sooo, bets on how long until they realize they're basically married?"

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #Adult Danny #Parenting out of spite #Bat dad #Batfamily shenanigans #bat kids #There's a mug in the manor #It says Number One Dad #Bruce and Danny constantly steal it from each other #Bruce/Danny? #Maybe #they're both idiots #But they love their kids

[novelconcepts]

bestie that room looks so cool - love the mug collection, it feels very you for some reason - but i really want to know what the bly manner boxes are about. they’re an odd shape so they can’t be dvd boxsets can they?

They are actually VHS boxsets courtesy of an artist called kadivideo. Put together, they make a little house. She makes a ton of art pieces based around (usually) horror properties, almost all of which are just blank video tapes in a sleeve of the artist’s design. But because Intrepid and Flanagan are into it, all of the videos for their properties actually play.

They weren’t remotely cheap, but collectibles for Haunting stuff are few and far between, and I still had a disposable income back then. Kind of my last big gift to myself before I locked up the pocketbook. 😆

#ask #the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of hill house #honestly her stuff is so cool #I was a 90s kid so the nostalgia factor is high and the fact that Mike and co actually sign off on these makes me really happy #bummed I missed out on the midnight mass one. i know it’ll come back in stock at some point #but budgeting for it feels a bit silly #even so. nerdy shit. it’s my jam. #(the mug collection is also my jam—they’re all from illumicrate boxes so they’re papercraft designs of various books)

[fictionturnedherbrain]

#why can i imagine margot buying this for percy? #and percy making it his favourite mug #while members of the league try not to laugh when they visit blakeney manor #the scarlet pimpernel #anachronisms a go go

[bed-buggier]

So I guess everyones beaten Superstars right

#Do any of you fucks know how to tag your posts #IDC I'll abandon Discord till the comic skins drop in a reasonable manor if it means I don't have to see Trip's mug in art channels

[fandomfall]

Tag Navigation 3

This is getting out of hand fast, but I don't really have a better solution because tumblr is such an asshole about links on mobile. Here's tag navigation post number 4! Click or tap the tags to see all the posts I've made/reblogged for that fandom, or tap the "tag navigation" tag to see all the other tag navigation posts! <3

#tag navigation #the haunting hour #the haunting of bly manor #the hobbit #the love witch #the nightmare before christmas #the odd life of timothy green #the queen's gambit #the vampire diaries #the vvitch #tower of terror #trick r treat #twilight saga #twin peaks #video games #when harry met sally #winnie the pooh #wolfwalkers #yakunara mug cup mo #you've got mail #youtubers #yuru camp #musicians

[deadsetobsessions]

Damian Wayne was like a duckling. A violent, stab-happy, danger-prone duckling, yes, but a duckling all the same. Which means when Danny almost got stabbed by a sleepy, instinct driven Damian, he was able to wave it off with a laugh. Damian, on the other hand, stared in horror at the butter knife firmly lodged in Danny’s arm.

“PENNYWORTH!” Danny jerked back at Damian’s scream. “RICHARD! FATHER!”

God damn, the kid had a pair of lungs on him. Danny’s wince was interpreted as pain to Damian, who gently grabbed his injured arm and started to pull him towards the kitchen’s marble island.

Danny blinked, non plussed as his hearing picked up a thundering of feet as the present family members scrambled towards Damian’s distress call.

“Wait, Damian, I’m fine. It’s-”

“You have been impaled, you imbecile! Had it been any of the other simpletons, they would have-!”

“Ouch.” Danny put his other hand in mock hurt over his slow-beating heart. He literally doesn’t care about the butter knife. He’s just impressed there was enough force in there to impale him. “Are you calling me names now? After- gasp- stabbing me?”

Before Damian could reply, the beginnings of regret, remorse, and guilt on his face, Alfred, Dick, and Bruce burst into the kitchen.

“What happened?!”

“My word, master Danny!”

“What is it?!”

“I’m fine. It’s like a small stab. Not even a big stab. I’m good.”

Dick paled, seeing Danny’s arm clutched in Damian’s hand.

“That’s- that’s a knife. In your arm. How is that ‘fine’?!”

“What happened.” Bruce asked Damian, gently removing Danny’s arm from Damian’s death clutch.

“I- I did not mean to,” Damian starts, guilt coloring his voice.

“He didn’t,” Danny cuts in. “I startled him and got stabbed for being dumb. I won’t fault him for having a defense mechanism like that, ancient knows what I might do if you guys startled me.”

The awkward silence that settled at his words made Danny twitch awkwardly.

“Uh, so, can I add this knife to my collection? Even if I didn’t get mugged?”

“Danny.”

“Bruce.” Danny stared stubbornly back. With his uninsured hand, he patted Damian on the head. He was going to enjoy the fluffiness before Damian’s guilt was no longer enough to hold him back from snapping at Danny’s hand like a grumpy alligator. Bruce loses, obviously. He’s a teenager who was also an ex-vigilante. Batman’s got nothing on a determined halfa.

“Master Danny, I must insist you refrain from getting stabbed. There is only so much gauze and antiseptic cream in the house.” Alfred returned- huh, when did he leave?- with a med kit.

Danny called bullshit because he knows there’s a whole ass medical bay beneath the manor.

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” Alfred said, promptly beginning the extraction of the butter knife.

“Are you okay?” Dick asked, hovering worriedly. “He- are you…?”

Damian was allowing Danny to ruffle his hair, so…

“Yep, I’m good. This isn’t even on my top thirty most painful stabbings,” and it really wasn’t. That honor was given to the GIW and that one time Jazz accidentally stabbed him with her earrings. “That was pretty impressive, actually. It’s like, a butter knife. The other ones had pointy ends.”

“Do not clump me with those pathetic wastes of spaces. I am naturally superior and would… would never harm you on purpose.” Damian said, getting quiet at the end like he was trying to plead to Danny to believe him.

“Of course not. But- if you want help me keep the knife, you can hit me with a mug, it would technically be a mugging.”

The pun got the desired effect. Damian leaned away with a disgruntled look and Dick stopped hovering as close in order to let out a small cackle.

“Done.”

“You should go get changed, kiddo. We’re going to see Tim’s photography at the Gotham Gallery today.”

“Oh, for real?” Danny patted Damian’s fluffy hair one last time, pushing away from the counter. “Oh, I’ll clean up here first and-”

“That will not be necessary,” Alfred scolded, a mop somehow already in his hands. “Please see to it you are prepared for the day.”

“Thanks, Alfred. Can I keep the knife.”

“Very well.”

“Sweet. See you guys later?” Danny pranced off after seeing the nods.

——

“He’s… he got stabbed a lot. Before us, I mean.” Dick tapped a furious rhythm onto the counter. “Not that we’ve stabbed him until now but even once is concerning for a civilian.”

“He was used to it.” Bruce replied.

“Perhaps we should join Todd in his endeavor and ensure that his worthless tormentors are permanently out of the picture.”

“God, he said top thirty. He was counting.”

Damian silently withdrew a kitchen knife.

“No murder with my quality chef’s knives, Master Damian.”

“Tt.”

“Master Jason follows the same rules. Now, out of the kitchen. I may be old, but I remember the last time master Bruce and master Dick stepped foot in here and I will not have a repeat.”

#danny phantom #danny phantom is a little shit #dc x dp #batman #bruce wayne #jason todd #bamf danny phantom #nightwing #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #Alfred is ninja #Damian is attached #damian wayne #bruce to the GIW: I don’t kill #behind him: a contingent of his pissed off kids #bruce: but they do #danny dropping trauma and lore in one go: lol #Damian’s way of bonding with people is stabbing #Danny’s used to ghostly violence as a way of being a friendly hello #he sees no issues with being stabbed #everyone else not so much

[sunnycanwrite]

things that have happened recently in Wayne Manor:

Alfred removed all the curtains to air then out and discovered someone has been writing on them for years.

Cow shaped hooveprints were found on the hood of Dick's car

Cow shaped hooveprints were found on the hood of Jason's car

Damian decided to move out for a good two days before showing up again, and had been clingy since, weird

Tim found out he has a gluten allergy and has been in a one sided argument with Alfred over it.

Someone thought it was funny to hid every single mug in the house in Duke's closet it was not at all he opened it and a fed of the fell over and broke.

Cass fell asleep on the couch only to awake up in a completely different part of the house, her brother's fighting over what animated barbie movie to watch. They chose the twelve dancing princesses of course.

#Tada #I'm tired #Projecting into Tim #Cause #Gluten is my enemy #I love it #It hates me #So rude #batfam #batman #batfamily #dc comics #batgirl #batman and robin #dick grayson #tim drake #stephanie brown #duke thomas #bat family #lol batman #jason todd #tim drake wayne #Tim Drake #alfred pennyworth #batmen #dc characters #robin dc #dc universe #dccomics #bruce wayne

[jarro-stan-account]

I think Bruce would start wearing his children’s merch and it would backfire horribly

He buys a whole shipment of shirts, mugs, bags, etc because he loves his kids and he’s so proud of them it hurts.

The day after it arrives, the manor dissolves into a cold war. Long held alliances snap in half, and tentative truces break down. Damian is staring hatefully at Dick. Jason’s glaring at Tim like he wants to recreate Titans Tower. Bruce has no idea what set them off.

After a week of this, Bruce is at his wit’s end. None of his kids will talk to him, so he goes to the bat computer for some well intentioned stalking. Except- what’s this? There’s an unnamed file, hidden in the depths of the computer. Bruce, having great respect for privacy and personal space, immediately starts to crack it. It’s- a spreadsheet.

The two categories are his children’s names and the type of merch (hat, pin, fridge magnet, etc). With a grim and dawning horror, Bruce realizes that his children are keeping track of how many times he wears/uses their merch and is using it as a favoritism competition. There’s a hot debate about if the yellow bat symbol should belong to batgirl or to black bat. Murder threats are sprinkled liberally in the annotations.

So Bruce comes up with a plan- he’ll create his own spreadsheet that cross-references with his calendar to ensure that he wears/uses everyone’s merch equally. No favoritism accusations if it’s a rotating schedule, right?

Bruce is too tired to change before flopping into bed one night, and comes downstairs wearing the same shirt. The breakfast table explodes.

Bruce gives up and goes back to wearing Superman merch.

#dc universe #batfamily #batman #bruce wayne #batfam #superman #clark kent #superbat #Just a tad

[eldritchdreamss]

Dick is good at hugs but I just know that Jason is all soft muscle until he flexes, which means he gives the best hugs. One of the Crime Alley kids finds out about this when they hug him after he saves them from being mugged and word gets around to the other kids about it. The first few times he’s asked for a hug when he checks on some of the kids shelters he’s a little surprised but obliges anyway, now when he’s out on patrol and one of the street kids sees him and asks he doesn’t hesitate. He knows there could be a million reasons why they’re asking, and if it helps them, then who is he to say no?

One night it happens while he was on patrol with Dick, they had started taking a break together semi-regularly, Jason still wasn’t at the manor often because he still felt awkward around the family, and Dick is just happy to spend as much time with his brother as he can get. So imagine Dick’s surprise, when they’re waiting for their food at a food truck, one of the kids comes up and asks Jason for a hug and he gives one without a second thought. Dick is just standing there like “????”, thinking there’s no way he saw what he just saw. That is until the kid leaves after and Jason immediately turns to him and threatens that if he tells anyone what he just saw he’ll never talk to him or the family again. Dick, of course, says he won’t tell anyone. And he doesn’t. He’s just glad his brother has people there for him.

For a few weeks Jason is ready for someone to ask or start teasing him about giving out hugs while on patrol when they address him, but no one even comes close to mentioning it. The next time he’s on break with Dick he asks why he hasn’t told anyone when he very easily could have.

“You asked me not too Littlewing.” he said, as if that answer meant anything at all. Dick must have seen his confusion because he spoke again. “You care about them Jason, it’s clear they care about you too. Of course I wish you’d open up to the family a little more, but I’m not going to tell them something you clearly didn’t even want me seeing. Knowing our family they’d push for an answer as to why or something and they’d only end up pushing you away instead of letting you open up on your own time.” he explained. Jason stared at him, that was the last answer he was expecting to hear.

After a few moments of finishing their food in silence they got up from the edge of the roof they were sitting on and threw their trash away. Jason watched as Dick started to the edge of the roof before finishing patrol, stopping at the edge to face Jason to say something. Jason wasn’t listening, one second he was watching his brother leave the next he was hugging him. His face flushed with embarrassment but he couldn’t bring himself to let go. “Thank you..” he murmured, vaguely aware of Dick’s arms hovering around him almost hesitantly for a moment before squeezing him back. They stayed like that for a few moments before they had to let go to finish their patrols. If Dick heads back to the cave more chipper than he usually is after patrol then that’s nobody’s business but his own that he just got a hug from his little brother, something they hadn’t done since even before he had died.

#jason todd #redhood #dick grayson #nightwing #batman #batfam #dc #dcu #dc universe #dc comics #batboys #batbros #drabble #idk man

[confessedlyfannish]

Writing Prompt #12

Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.

Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.

Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.

While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.

These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".

There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—

"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.

But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.

He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.

"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.

"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.

"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.

He doesn't look away from the man.

"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."

"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.

The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.

The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"

Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."

"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."

He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.

"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.

"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.

"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."

"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.

"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."

"Him."

"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."

"Why me?"

"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."

This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.

"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"

"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."

Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."

"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."

"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."

"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."

"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."

"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.

"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.

"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."

"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."

"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."

Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.

Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.

"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."

The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.

"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.

"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."

"I have more than one."

"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."

"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"

There is a pause.

"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."

"Resolve what?"

"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."

"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."

Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."

The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."

"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."

"They will have already muzzled him."

Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.

"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."

"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—

Clack!

"sluuuuurp!"

"Master Timothy, honestly!"

"Sorry Alfred!"

#i feel like I'm going to reread this and want to add other stuff #but I also just want to post it and get it out there #fun fact i scribbled a bunch of lines down at 2am bc i didn't want to forget them #im bad at multiple drafts #my writing #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #batman #i live to make everybody dramatic #but also i subscribe to a world where clockwork doesn't know how NOT to be dramatic #lol he's a ghost from all of time he doesn't know how to speak to humans and tailor it to the century let alone the decade #and his favorite little girl who calls him clocky loves how he speaks so #he doesn't need to change for nobody #nor feels inclined to #also I feel like as god he's way more inclined to threaten to get what he wants than like...be vulnerable #jazz: let's unpack that #clockwork: we never do #jazz: are you saying that because it's true or because that's what you want to be true? #clockwork: ... #also I cannot take credit for BITCH I MIGHTWING #wish i could #that is cash money right there #shoutout to 11thsense

[orionremastered]

Hi!!! , could you do batfam, with reader who always getting hurt by accident and reader like 'oh fuck it, is not that hurt' and the the batfam was like 😦😦

Batsis!Reader x Batfam

Take Care

"I'm fine, really," you protest as Alfred approaches with a medical kit.

Tim huffs from the batcomputer, turning in the chair to face you. "You got stabbed," he cries, "Again!"

"It's not like you've never been stabbed before, idiot," you spit back.

"Not as much as you have," Dick points out, giving an apologetic smile at your glare.

Okay, so maybe it's true that you through yourself towards danger one or two or fifty more times than any other member of the family, a complete disregard to your safety as made clear by Alfred stitching up your thigh.

"You shouldn't be so careless," Damian says with a frown and you bite back the urge to go, 'aw, you do care' but think wiser of that.

"I'm not careless, just... more passionate."

Cass pinches the bridge of her nose as Steph snorts into her coffee mug. Bruce is not amused, staring blankly back at you. "No more patrol for a month after you've healed," he says.

"What! That's bull— oh, don't look at me like that, Alfred," you mutter, "It's bad enough he's trying to bench me."

"He should," is all the older man states.

"You shouldn't take sides," you argue as he finishes stitching your leg.

Jason stands in the corner, trying to avoid your attention, but you notice him soon enough. "What do you think, Jason? Hmm? It's not that bad."

Jason says nothing, clearing his throat before walking back into the manor. You watch after him in disbelief. "Betrayal," you whisper to yourself.

"We just want to make sure you don't get yourself killed," Duke shrugs.

"I haven't gotten myself killed."

"Yet," Damian adds. "You haven't gotten yourself killed yet."

Frowns stretch across faces all over the cave at the thought of you motionless on the ground.

"Let's not have that, yeah?"

~~~

Masterlist

#batfam #batfamily x reader #damian wayne x reader #batfamily #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader #x reader

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny was...unnerved, which is unusual considering his upbringing as the child of mad scientists obsessed with the undead.

It had been a few weeks since he had moved into Wayne manor after a conflict between batman and his parents, which led to his home and his friends and family being blown up in a lab malfunction. Most of Amity Park was destroyed in the blasts, including Vlad and his mansion.

Usually Danny would be more suspicious of super rich dudes, but the sorrow in Bruce Wayne's eyes as he pleaded to let Danny take him in was genuine and well, Danny didn't exactly have anywhere else to go. Plus, Bruce looked weirdly guilty when danny told him none of this was his fault, which was weird. Jazz was in college and always looked exhausted on video calls, so he didn't want to bother her there.

The part that bothered him most wasn't that there was anything dangerous or bad happening, but rather the opposite.

Danny was used to dodging his home security system when it randomly targeted him. He was used to ghosts popping up out of nowhere to suckerpunch him. He was used to danger.

And now that there was none, he was jumping at shadows.

Things got better when he met Psaro. He was in the process of being either mugged or kidnapped, he wasn't sure, when this angry goth teen with silver hair and ruby eyes literally came in swinging a steel chair. After the beat down and subsequent rescue, Danny offered to buy them some food. Psaro tried to reject the offer until his stomach suddenly growled, making him blush, and Danny dragged the older goth teen to a restaurant.

They've been best friends since. Psaro later introduced him to his friends Rose and Toilen, explaining that they weren't from this world and that Rose was an elf and Toilen was a Teran from a planet called Terrestria. Danny assumed that Psaro was an elf like Rose due to them both having long pointed ears and mostly focused on Toilen thanks to the "other planet" bit.

Meanwhile, the bats have been keeping an eye out on Danny (aka stalking him) and his new, obviously magical friends.

#dpxdc #prompts #dragon quest #dragon quest monsters #fanfiction prompts #danny fenton #danny phantom #batman #bruce wayne #bruce has regrets and blames himself for the death of dannys loved ones #psaro the manslayer #was anyone going to tell me that Psaros last name is apparently Banesword or was i supposed to read that online myself #the hero and his party are still wanting to murder our little pouty goth baby and i will not stand for it #the bats see how paranoid danny is and heard him talking about the nightmare security system and all that so theyre overprotective of him #them finding out Psaro is a teenage demon lord either isnt going to go over well or he gets adopted

[qcomicsy]

a list of funniest things jason todd could do:

slowly steal the parts of the batmobile and reassemble it elsewhere, then pull up next to bruce in his own second secret batmobile

become a lawyer and get joker setenced to the death penalty - bonus is that he completes college and gets a degree which bruce never did and alfred is proud beyond the gravethat one of his grandkids actually completed college

change bruces name to "free trires" in his phone contacts

call time the wrong name everyday, but it starts of sounding like a genuine mistake (tom, jim ect) and slowly gets further and further away from the original (jimothy, jeremy, dave, the dogs name)

dye his hair red, claim he was an original red head and then gaslight the family into believing bruce made him dye his hair black to look more like dick and be a replacement

come out as gay and claim to be the only gay member of the batfamily and when tim tries to say something to dispute it he just hits him with "who are you again? the computer guy or smthing?"

could also come out as poly and roll up to family dinners with more than one partner and if someone says something about it, he just says "mad cuz i got TWO more partners than you huh. lonesome bitch."

feel free to add on

LMAAAAOO THIS IS GREAT

Let's go.

Made a carbon copy of Batman and spread in strategic places on the Batcave, Tim's boat, Clock Tower, Duke's nest and Dick's house. (He almost killed them)

(One of Dick's colleagues saw it and he had to lie he was this die hard Batfanboy, his ego never recovered until today.)

Stole Tim's mug and placed on Damian's room, stole Damian's mug and placed on Tim's boat then proceeded to visit the Manor until he hard the scream of the fight he planted between them;

When he saw Bernard for the first time he said "Whoa Timmy you move on fast, this one is Terry right?";

Did a Tramp Stamp tattoo;

Slut shames Dick every chance he gets (this one is actually cannon);

Shot Dick's phone;

Every Christmas shows up with a different Outlaws member and affirms that's his partner

Dated an arrow to piss of his dad, when Bruce got over it proceeded to date a lantern instead;

Never told no one other than Dick he's actually in a stable relationship with Artemis because he refuses to swap Bruce's horrified reaction to a normal one;

Gave Bernard the shovel talk;

When he bumped with Selina after the (failed) marriage and she teased him on how he didn't gave her shit for it he just answered "No, no I get it"

Purposely brings Harley to bat reunions under the bullshit "She's my therapist" when the bats bother him, knowing his therapy with Harley only count when they're at her office;

Told every one he's Harley's adopted kid (actually Harley was the one to say that once when she was drunk and he just went along with it);

Exchanged Bernard's number to Kon's in Tim's cell phone and vice-versa;

Left his Mustache grow and showed up as Matches Malone in one of Wayne's Gala;

Lied he was actually a Titan but they kicked him out because Dick's is an asshole;

Stoled Signal's Patrol Lunch;

Stole's Spoiler's lunch;

Brought alcohol to manage going through their family gathering when he was caught he blamed on Tim;

(He thought about blaming on Dick but he knew Dick would just go along with it)

Everytime Dick, Barbara and Bruce call him he answers with "He's dead";

Introduced Tim to the Outlaws with "That's Robin they found him on the thrash"

Showed up to Barbara's job dropped a "Hi mom" as a greeting then proceeded to laugh his ass off while Barbara tried o explain to her coworkers that that tank of a man wasn't her child;

Told Dick Talia adopted him;

Told Talia Dick adopted him;

Told Damian that if Batman dies he's going to adopt him out of spite;

#jason todd #q asks #I loved this one #the gay and the poly one was so fucking funny

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 3

WC: 1861 Masterpost CW: mentions of blood, past experimentation, and torture

Duke tugged the sleeves of the hoodie he had thrown on as he rolled out of bed down over his hands. The Cave was freezing. Usually the temperature was nice. Dressing up in layers of body armor and fighting crime made a person hot and the cool air of the Cave was a relief. When pulled out of bed by an all-hands meeting it was another story and so Duke tucked himself further in the hoodie.

He was pretty sure it wasn’t even his hoodie. This family (and those let into the inner circle) were almost all clothing thieves. Duke had even caught Wally West with his missing Gotham Academy hoodie once. The weird lack of boundaries had taken some getting used to. Seeing various family members naked for decontamination showers or medical procedures helped hurry that along. It was hard to care about who’s hoddie it was was after washing off cuddle pollen together.

The roar of a bike filled the Cave and Duke didn’t even look up. He knew the sound of Red Hood’s bike.

Man, he really had been in this family too long now, he thought and buried his face in his arms. Would they notice if he just went back to sleep?

“Perhaps some tea, Master Duke?”

Guess so.

“Thanks, Alfred,” Duke said and dragged himself properly upright to accept the mug of tea. At least it was warm.

Duke sipped at the tea, his favorite blend of course, as Jason sped into the Cave like the badass bastard he was. He spun his bike to a stop in one of the open spots.

“Hood,” Bruce addressed the other, the Batman™ gravel seeped into his voice even though he was dressed down in sweats, a hoodie Duke was pretty sure was actually Jason’s, and a brace on his wrist.

They all knew what Bruce meant though: report why an all-hands was called, why Tim wasn’t there, did those of them not suited up need to, was anyone they cared about hurt?

“No, old man, you report,” Jason said as he stalked up the steps towards them. “Who the fuck were you fucking fifteen years ago?”

Duke pinched himself to make sure he was actually awake and not still in bed having the most awkward dream. Alright, well, that hurt. So much for being saved from this conversation by the T-rex suddenly coming to life and breathing fire and them having to take it down with squirt guns and pool noodles.

He’d had some weird dreams since coming to live in the manor, alright?

“Um, ask what now, little wing?” Dick asked, looking between Jason and Bruce.

“I asked what I asked,” Jason said. He’d made it to the computer and they all turned obediently to look at the screen. Jason tugged off his helmet and set it down as he leaned against the console. “Who the fuck were you sleeping with at that time, Bruce?”

Bruce stared at Jason for a long moment. “Selina, mostly. Some socialites and such maybe still. What’s going on, Jason?”

“Oracle,” Jason said, not taking his eyes Bruce. “Red should have sent you some media. You’ll get why. Throw something fitting up on the screen.”

Despite what the superhero community and Gotham thought, everyone in the Cave knew that Batman was far from unflappable. They had all pulled one over on him before. But Duke had never seen Bruce looking like that before. As that image went up on the screen, it looked like someone had just shattered his brittle heart into pieces.

Duke couldn’t blame him. The sickly looking guy on the screen made Duke want to go find someone to punch and it wasn’t his face the other was wearing.

“Holy shit,” Steph whispered.

“Father, what is the meaning of this?” Damian ordered.

“Jay?” Dick prompted when Bruce seemed unable to find the words.

Jason scowled down at the ground. “Red and I were on patrol. He noticed… blood.”

Babs brought another image up on the left monitor without prompting. It was a Gotham alley like any other except it was splattered with a green spray.

“That is Lazarus water, that is not blood,” Damian said. His words were as haughty as ever, but there was a wobble under them.

“It’s blood for him,” Jason said. “Trust me. I held the kid as Red stitched him up. Knife wound. It was the only… new wound. Oracle, did Red send you…”

A new image popped up on the left screen and Jason closed his eyes. Duke had to swallow heavily and look away himself. He got now why Jason came in demanding who Bruce had slept with. Bruce’s heart was going to break all over again.

“Who?” Cass signed. Her motion was sharp and aggressive as she pulled her thumb from her chin after the sign.

“We don’t know,” Jason said. “He was jumpy.”

The picture of the horrible injuries was replaced by a video, clearly from Red’s suit. The guy was pressed against the wall, one hand gripped tight over the wet, green stain on his hoodie. He looked dwarfed in it.

“Hey, looks like you could use some help with that wound before you bleed out,” Tim said in the video. Duke could hear how he was keeping his tone carefully light.

“…just who are you supposed to be?” The guy’s voice could barely be heard.

“You must not be from Gotham. I’m Red Robin, one of the heroes here.”

The guy snorted, curling further into himself rather than relaxing at that. “So you’re just going to hand me over to the government then?”

Everyone in the cave stiffened at that, including Jason, which was interesting.

“Why would I do that? I’m a vigilante. Do you know how illegal what I do is? I just don’t want to see you bleed out. Maybe I can even take you to a safe house where you can rest.”

“So that you can interrogate me? No thanks.”

“I mean, I’d like to know who tried to kill a kid, but that’s to make them pay, not you.”

As the guy gave a horrible laugh, Duke reached out and touched Cass’ elbow, reminding her they were all there. These sort of things always hit her hard. She sent him a grateful smile before focusing back on the screen. “Maybe I deserve it.”

The guy tensed suddenly, weight shifting like he was about to bolt as the video slumped slightly sideways.

Jason’s voice rumbled from close to the camera. “You’re what, sixteen?”

“…fifteen?”

“Uncertain,” Cass spoke. Duke had to agree, the guy didn’t know how old he was, not for sure.

“Yeah, no fifteen year old deserves to bleed out. You know who I am?”

Duke tracked the motion of the hood as it slipped. The white hair was curious, considering Bruce, but if the guy was a meta or had been in the Lazarus Pits long enough… or worse, both…

“I’m Red Hood. I protect part of this city called Crime Alley. I’m not afraid to kill a shithead, especially ones that hurt kids, but I never harm a kid,” the Jason of the video said, something they all knew was true. It was an argument still often enough on bad days. “I’ve got places to put you if you needed somewhere safe; places not in the system. Or we can get you somewhere. Do you have a place to go to?”

The guy laughed again. “That’s the thing. I do. I might, I guess. Just no one is going to believe me.”

It was Tim who asked, “Why won’t they believe you? Where do you need to get?”

After the photo earlier, they all knew what the guy would look like when he lifted his head, but it still made Duke glance over at Bruce.

“I need to get to Bruce Wayne.”

-

Jason motioned and the video stopped there and went away.

Bruce closed his eyes.

I need to get to Bruce Wayne.

Another son he didn’t know about. Another son he failed to save from a horrible childhood because he didn’t know they existed.

“He didn’t want to see you right away, but we think that Tim and I convinced him that we could arrange a meeting between you and him,” Jason said.

“Of course,” Bruce answered instantly.

Jason just gave a little nod and explained, “He doesn’t trust the offer, or us, completely. It was enough to get him to the safe house. Passed out on the way.”

“And still asleep,” Tim piped up from the computer. “I’ve been running analysis on the… collar he’s wearing. It’s definitely a one off, but very professionally made. There’s, well, there was a tracker in it that’s been crushed. It’s meant to deliver a shock if someone messes with it, but I can disable that long enough to remove it.”

“You should wait until one of is is there,” Duke spoke up. “Just… in case there’s a reaction when it’s removed.”

Duke ducked his head when all eyes turned to him, still bashful as the newest member of the family. Bruce had been trying to reassure the other, but he knew that was far from his own strength. Clearly he needed to try a different approach.

“Just, you know, he’s clearly a meta? Of some type? It’s probably a containment collar and it could release a, you know, backlog? Of power?”

“Good thinking,” Bruce assured Duke.

“Someone better get here quick then. I hate seeing this thing on him,” Tim grumbled. At least he agreed.

Bruce looked back at the photo still on the center screen to the pale, drawn face. Even in sleep his son’s face was etched with pain.

“Bruce?” Dick prompted.

Bruce took a breath and made himself focus, to be Batman, not a grieving father. How often had he had to make that choice? “Dick, you and Jason both should go. Tim, as soon as the collar is off I want you and Oracle working on it but stay mindful of traps.”

“Will do,” Tim replied.

“And what of the rest of us?” Damian asked.

His youngest had come so far, but Bruce knew this would be a big disruption for him. They would have to watch him. He caught Cass’ eyes and she gave the slightest nod.

“I want Robin, Batgirl, and Spoiler out on the streets. Don’t ask questions yet, we don’t want to lead anyone to him, but get a sense of the mood around the big players. If this is already on anyone’s radar, I want to know.”

“And you need to make a list,” Jason said. “Kid talked in his sleep, begged his mom to stop. Could just be nightmares…”

“I’ll make one,” Bruce said. His bedroom proclivities were hardly what the papers reported, but with how this new son wasn’t certain of his age, it could be pre-Dick, or even at the start of Dick joining the family. It certainly meant there would be more names then any of the years later on. Whoever it was though, Bruce would find them.

He had to try and do that much for his son.

--- AN: Not entirely sure about Bruce's part here, but he's always harder for me to write! I think goal is to get at least one POV with all of the kids, so I guess Dick's is next likely! I'm super fuzzy today (fatigue, day fuck it, seven? Eight? Of this headache), so I hope this is at least decent~

Stay delightful, darlings!

I no longer tag, but you can subscribe to the masterpost to be notified!

#dp x dc #batpham #city pigeons #trauma tuesday

[sereneabyyss]

Ouija Board At Bat Gas (Dead On Main)

Bat Gas was an unfortunate little, dingy, abandoned gas station situated just outside of Crime Alley in an area where it couldn't be said to be part of The Alley, but was close enough that anyone not from there would never dare to fill up their tanks there in fear of getting mugged and none of the residents of Crime Alley ever bothered filling their tanks, if the car they were using ran out, most just simply jumped at the opportunity to steal another. Safe to say, the gas station hadn't lasted long in the business world.

Thus, it sat there, vines overgrowing the concrete flooring and winding up the empty fuel pumps. Like all abandoned things in Gotham, stories of ghosts haunting and wails of grief filled any conversation about Bat Gas. Many of the street kids liked to make dares out of venturing into the den and going so far as to touch one of the pumps. Risks of rubber bound vipers striking out, possessed by a vengeful spirit, only seemed to fill them with determination to complete the dares of their friends.

Perhaps those stories were what brought Jason Todd out at bat gas on December 25th, a Ouija Board in hand. The original plans to spend the holidays at the Wayne Manor had been scrapped with the raging of pits and glow of green eyes leaving every other member of his family walking on tip toes around him. Normally that would mean ditching Jason Todd for the comfort of Red Hood, except there were no issues in Crime Alley for Hood to take care of. Every bastard seemed to have scampered into hiding in time for the New Year. So, he was left as he was, a lost Jason Todd just looking for some way to ignore the mess of his life on Christmas Day.

So. He was going to use a Ouija Board to see if Bat Gas was actually haunted. What could he lose? His dignity if anyone stumbled upon him? He forsook that years ago.

Walking onto the cracked concrete, it was like an icy wave of contentment washed over him. Any lingering Pit Rage simmered beneath the surface before mellowing out completely. The knots in his chest unwrapped themselves and all that seemed left within him was a feeling of light-weightiness. Like the feeling when he was grappling between buildings and he was falling falling falling until the hook's line tightened and he was flying back up. He wasn't sure he had felt this way since the day he awoke half alive half monster.

(There was definitely something dead here. It was just so familiar. He would never be able to explain the feeling, but it was as if he was bathing in less angry Lazarus Pits.)

Danny perked up as the presence of a halfa (liminal? halfa? he couldn't tell exactly, something seemed off with both descriptions, but halfa was definitely the closest between them) entered the neat little gas station he had decided to make his temporary haunt.

He had decided to haunt the abandoned Bat Gas he had heard others talking about during Christmas, not wanting to deal with questions on why he didn't celebrate. (Seriously, after all the arguments every year and that one time with the possessed candy cane, he had given up any sort of Christmas Spirit he may have had before.) After visiting Mars last year on Christmas Day, he family had given up all hope of trying to get in contact with him for the entire day. So, he knew he would be free to haunt the cool looking gas station with no one hunting him down and trying to stick him in front of a tree with too many blinking lights and gaudy paper wrapping unnecessary trinkets he'll lose between his ribs after like three days.

But! There was a halfa entering his new haunt! And they were maybe ill! He had to see what that was about!

Peeking over the roof he was situated on, he watched as someone continued walking, something weird and rectangular looking in their arms. Tilting his head to the side, he slowly floated down, staying invisible as he took a peak at the stranger.

His eyes narrowed in on the rectangle object in the halfas arms. They placed it on the concrete, giving Danny room to finally look and- ohmygodwasthataouijaboard?! HE WAS GETTING OUIJA BOARDED! HE WAS SO GOING TO SHOVE THIS IN SKULKER'S FACE THE NEXT TIME THEY FOUGHT! THIS WAS EONS WORTH OF BRAGGING RIGHTS! HE WAS GETTING OUIJA BOARDED!

Silently clearing his throat, he sat in front of the halfa, allowing him to get a good look and... fuck, he was hot. Like, thighs that could absolutely crush a watermelon hot. Hair wind swept back with a little white etched into the front hot. A boyish, smugish, hottish face that just screamed danger hot. Hot enough this man could probably melt his ghost ice hot. Did Danny mention he was hot?

Maybe if his Christmases were always spent getting Ouija boarded by incredibly hot maybe halfas he'd have more Christmas Spirit. Santa, he knows you're real, send him this halfa again next Christmas and maybe he'll actually respect you.

The new halfa furrowed his eyebrows as he concentrated setting up the Ouija board properly and Danny almost fainted from how hot he was. Patting his cheeks sharply, he concentrated on the fact that he was getting to do his first Ouija Board! He had to look cool! He had to be smooth! This halfa was hot and Danny couldn't blow it!

"Oh Ghost who haunts this gas station, can you hear my voice?" The halfa called out and Danny had to hold himself together from freaking out over the man's voice. It was just perfect. It wasn't too harsh nor did it have the silken smooth feeling most liars had. It was gruff but in an experienced shit way. Oh my Ancients he could absolutely die once more and be the happiest ghost!

He giddily grabbed the little wood whatever-it-was-called in the halfas hand and slid it towards the YES option.

Jason blinked in shock as the planchette in his hand began moving without him forcing it. He had known something not quite alive was here in the gas station, but he hadn't expected it to actually be able to communicate. "I'm Jason, do you have a name?" Slowly, it began moving once more, spelling out P-H-A-N-T-O-M. Which, he wasn't necessarily expecting such a cheesy name, but it could have been worse... probably. "Nice to meet you Phantom. Why are you haunting Bat Gas? I don't recall there being any deaths here."

I-M B-O-R-E-D.

Yeah that was actually a fair enough reason in his books.

"Is there a reason you haven't passed on? Is something tethering you here?"

A-V-O-I-D-I-N-G P-A-P-E-R-W-O-R-K

Shit? There was paperwork in the afterlife? Maybe that was why he decided to come crawling back after getting dumped in the pits. Unfortunate that being a crime lord actually had more paperwork than being a Robin ever did.

Danny was vibrating so fast it looked like that time he ate lithium batteries (it was for science!). The halfa was still talking to him! He was keeping up an interesting conversation! Ouija boarding was so much fun!

"Can you turn visible? Or is that just something movies make up?" He wanted to see Danny! He was interested in what Danny looked like! Dropping his invisibility, Jason visibly startled taking in the sudden appearance before him.

"Hello! I'm Phantom!"

#dc x dp #dpxdc #danny phantom #jason todd #dead on main #danny is an absolute disaster #He's trying so hard to look good for the cute halfa #Jason was not expecting the Ouija Board to work actually #will I write more? who knows I sure don't

[yuitoru]

๑ ⋆˙⟡ ⠀ 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 ⠀ ๑ ⋆˙⟡

๑ feat : lucifer morningstar , alastor

๑ cw : angst , happy ending for reader , swearing

๑ part one

today marked the one year anniversary of your separation from the king of hell, and you were happier than the previous annum. after having left the manor with nothing but the few bags of luggage to your name, you stumbled upon an establishment that had been uttered by the demons around you. the 'hazbin hotel' - whilst the name was mostly unfamiliar, you were desperate for the free accommodation, so you used whatever of the funds lucifer had left you with to make your way across the pentagram towards the hotel.

your arrival to the establishment was well-welcomed by the owner of the hotel, and the daughter of your former lover, charlie. her bubbly and warm persona was a stark contrast to the treatment you received from her father - you experienced more care and affection from the girl than you ever had from lucifer himself. the rest of the staff and guests welcomed you with warm arms, quickly making you the newest member of their supposed chosen family.

now, a year into your stay at the hazbin hotel, and you could honestly say that this was the happiest you had been in your entire life - alive, and dead. you had friends that cared about you, a fun and entertaining daily life, and your heart had begun to beat for another. despite the way he had treated you in the past, you couldnt help but feel guilty for falling for someone new. it was apparent that, no matter how hard you tried to fight it, you could never completely forget about the first man you truly fell in love with.

you had confided to charlie late one night during the first few months of your stay, when insecurity and anxiety had been plaguing your mind for days on end. you ended up sobbing to her as you spilled the details of your 'relationship' with lucifer, and the horrified expression on charlie's face only made you cry more. she held you in her arms for the remainder of your tears, until you eventually fell asleep from exhaustion. upon waking tucked into your bed the following morning, a neatly folded note laid on your bedside table, reading in neat, loopy handwriting,

'i hope youre feeling after last night. im glad that you felt comfortable enough to talk to me about that :) we saved you breakfast!' - charlie ♡

a warm smile lit up your face as you read the note, placing it back down on the bedside table before sliding out of bed and beginning your morning routine. twenty minutes later, you headed downstairs and were met with the warming scent of breakfast. in the kitchen, alastor stood by the counter, two cups of steaming hot coffee in his hands. after having noticed you, his ears shot up slightly and his smile widened almost unnoticeably. he placed a mug of coffee down by a plate of warm food, before speaking up to you.

"good morning, my dear! hope you slept well - sleep is extremely important, you know! the others are out right now, but i thought that you would appreciate some company this morning..."

you could only let out an airy laugh as you sat down, taking the neatly placed utensils into your hands and beginning your meal. the whole time, alastor ensured to keep a lively conversation running, cracking an occasional joke every so often - just so he could witness your gorgeous smile. he would never admit to it, but alastor would do anything to keep that lovely look on your face. after finishing with your breakfast, you helped alastor with the dishes before heading over to the parlour and sprawling your body over a sofa. alastor sat himself down on a nearby armchair and turned on the radio on the coffee table, and the two of you enjoyed the other's company whilst listening to soft jazz in the background.

during your stay at the hazbin hotel, your initial civil friendship with alastor began to slowly develop into something more - you two spent more and more time together, to the point where the others would get concerned if one of you was without the other. there was no suitable label to what the two of you were, but one night changed it all, redefining your entire relationship.

you were sat by the bar, maintaining a conversation with husk as you sipped on your drink. it had been a peaceful day, and the clocks were edging towards eight in the evening - the radio was on again, and everyone else was sat talking in the parlour. as you stretched your back out, you could practically sense eyes lingering on your figure, and as you turned around to see who it was, your eyes locked onto alastor's, who just sent you a grin. standing up from his chair, he made his way towards you and sat in the vacant bar stool next to you. husk just glanced at him before beginning to make his drink that he knew by heart from being around the radio demon for far too long, in husk's opinion. you sent alastor a small smile, mumbling out softly,

"hi, al, everything okay?," you asked him, swirling your drink around, watching the liquid slide down the side of the glass. alastor chuckled quietly - that being his response to your question. you could tell he was thinking about something, and when husk handed him his drink, he took a deep sip of the strong whiskey before sighing.

"im fine, sweetheart. ive just been thinking a lot, thats all," that was the only explanation he gave, clearly not wanting to say more. his ears were slightly drooped, and his body language was much more slumped and relaxed than his usual rigid and uptight stance. it was obvious that something big was on his mind, something that he needed to talk about but was reluctant to do so. with a small sigh, you gently reach your hand out and hold his cheek, turning his head to face you. it was common knowledge that alastor mostly resented physical contact, but he didnt seem to mind it as much when it was done by you. his eyes slightly widened and his smile seemed a little uncertain, as his breath hitched.

it might have been the already building alcohol in his system, but in that moment, he swore you looked like an angel, by some cruel twisted fate. you looked heavenly in his eyes, something too pure for the depths of hell to corrupt. without even thinking straight, his lips were pressed against your cheek, before pulling away just as fast as it had happened. you could only stare at him in shock as your hand shot up to clutch the area alastor had kissed. by this point, husk had already moved over to the parlour, not wanting to witness the grossly romantic scene in front of him, and avoiding the possibility of alastor attempting to kill him for being too close to him and you.

"alastor.." was all you could say, your heart and brain alike going into overdrive. it had been way too long since you had been kissed so tenderly, or even kissed at all - lucifer never initiated a kiss during your relationship. you stared at the radio demon in shock, before an idea of your own crossed your mind. leaning your face closer to his, you whispered out, "kiss me properly," before pressing your lips against his. the kiss didnt last that long, but it was enough - enough for the two of you to accept all your suppressed feelings for the other, and for alastor to formerly ask you to be his lover.

now, you were walking down the stairs of the hotel, dressed in an oversized zip-up hoodie that covered up to your mid thigh, and warm baggy shorts. you had slept in after a tiring evening, and were making your way down to have coffee with everyone else, as everyone usually did in the mornings. what you werent expecting, however, was to see the whole hotel decorated with an assortment of decorations, but more surprisingly, your former lover standing in the entryway of the hotel. you froze from where you stood on the landing tread of the stairs, not wanting to believe what you were seeing. your heart began racing and your body started to tremble as you watched lucifer turn around and lock eyes with you - him sharing your shocked expression. you averted your gaze to charlie, who could only give you an apologetic look, before you quickly turned around and darted back up the stairs towards your room.

lucifer just watched you scramble away with a conflicted look in his eyes, his grip on his cane tightening significantly. he still remembered the look on your face when you left the manor a year ago, and the confusingly painful emptiness in his heart that followed after your absence. he turned to look at his daughter, a hint of betrayal lingering in his gaze.

"you never mentioned that she was here," he mumbled out, watching as charlie could only sigh and look down at her dad. before she even responded, alastor turned to walk towards the stairs, calling out in an obnoxious tone, "im going to go check on my lover, if thats alright. feel free to continue this social setting without me," was all he said, as he began climbing up the stairs. his usual grin only widened as he felt lucifer's stare on his back, knowing that he had successfully pissed off the king of hell.

you were curled up underneath your duvet, sobbing quietly. you had thought that you were completely over lucifer, but deep down, your heart would always unconsciously yearn for him. the soft knock on your door didnt even register in your mind, nor did the creaking of the door hinges. the dipping of the mattress was what finally snapped you out of your self-pitying trance. a gentle hand reached down to lift the duvet off of your body, and it traced the soft features of your face.

"dont cry over him, my dear. im here, am i not?" the sound of alastor's voice caused you to slowly sit up from your previously curled position on your bed. looking up at him with teary eyes, you couldnt help your sniffling as you tried to stop yourself from crying even more . alastor just silently opened his arms for you, which you gladly accepted and crawled into his comforting embrace.

meanwhile, lucifer was pacing the lobby downstairs, his grip on his cane so strong it threatened to break the metal staff. his mind was racing; his heart pounding rapidly in his chest. of course he knew that you would move on after the break up, but with the radio demon? moreover, he certainly wasnt expecting to see you again, especially at his daughter's hotel out of all places. hundreds of thoughts swarmed lucifer's head, buzzing all around like a beehive. he knew that this had all first started because of him - he was the one to selfishly lead you on and break your heart, and now he had to pay the price of his actions. despite his overwhelming and eternal love for his first wife, you had filled the void in his heart without him ever truly realising it. or maybe he did realise, and chose to run away instead of coming to terms with his feelings. but now, it was all too late. you had moved on, and were happier with someone else.

all he could do was watch silently as you were nuzzled up on alastor's lap later that evening, your face tucked into the radio demon's neck. he was forced to come to terms with how much he had messed up, and lost against love for the second time in his life.

© yuitoru™ — dont copy, plagiarise, repost, modify and/or translate my works

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