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lighthouseborna · 2 years

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𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝—𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝟖-𝟏𝟎 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞—𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 !

First of all this is really hard because I have. Four playlists if you don’t count the ones that are dynamic playlists. (and if you do I have (checks notes) .. twelve 🤡) Second of all, I’m gonna cheat. Oh and also these are not in a significant order ok thank you—>

for the orchestral storytelling vibes:

One Day, Hans Zimmer

You Speak of the Trident, Geoff Zanelli

Run Free, Hans Zimmer

12 Years Later, James Newton Howard

Test Drive, John Powell

From Beneath the Rubble, Harry Lightfoot + Audiomachine

On the Horizon, Brian Tyler

Leap of Faith, Audiomachine

I Wish I Had a Hundred Years, Fernando Velázquez

Sun, Thomas Bergersen

for the ones with reflective lyrics/lyrical themes:

Here I Am, Bryan Adams + Hans Zimmer [lyrics]

Eulogy, Charlie Allen [lyrics]

Wild I Am, Vocal Few [lyrics]

Seven, Sleeping at Last [lyrics]

Rubik’s Cube, Athlete [lyrics]

Fight to Make it Up, Takénobu [lyrics]

Into the Sun, The Parlor Mob [lyrics]

You Can’t Take Me, Bryan Adams [lyrics]

Son, Sleeping at Last [lyrics]

Golden, Farewell Fighter [lyrics]

...and then also if you want to like. take a step back for the lyrics songs so they’re about or to him instead from his perspective you get like

Heirloom

While You Can

The Goodbye Song

and I will limit to three in that category this is already so long (but i dare u....... to see if you can tell why it’s three i dare you)

oh and then also i absolutely must include [ Helpless / Bloodlines pt. II, Sir Sly ] for being the literal? perfect? internal monologue for the possession like I don’t. I don’t understand how it’s this perfect but it is. and it also Does Not go in his general playlist for the same reason because unless I am specifically gearing for miserable Henry I cannot have it playing while I’m trying to write ;lkdjg;lsdkjg and now i’ll stop oh my god

tagged: @trickstercaptain tagging: @khozmoh @hvndredstories (your pick dude i dunno) @piraticblood / @sihnon @dvarapala @darlingflight @paddyfuck @irrfahrer @loetise also I keep editting this to add on to it so HEY YOU yeah, steal it, I have beans for brains I’m sorry I didn’t tag you

#☩ chicken on a raft ( DASH GAME. )#so many of the intrusmentals have that. literally the ''driving'' tempo that is just #you find it in contemporary rock and it's kinda like. one-and-two! one-and-two! in a 2/4 or something like it #12 Years Later builds to this at about 1:20 and Run Free at about 2:20 for really clear examples if you aren't sure what I'm talking about #and are curious!#((run free's is the loudest because of the. the literal Gallop))#...........and not to keep talking about it but man! man!!!!!#run free at like 3:24 makes me ;lk #wfkf;lellkg;lskd;jg;jgdhh;esj;lfglkj;dsfjg #and then? the key change????? like AHHHHHH #hans zimmer spare me pls #....................................anyway Run Free if you didn't notice #don't @ me about the horse movie content it slaps you're just a coward #and on the lyrics one.......the way a bunch of them have that acoustic (or close to it vibe) except then #some of them just come out absolutely SWINGING #10/10

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dcxdpdabbles · 6 months

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Finders Keepers

"Do not forget that the new groundskeeper is scheduled to arrive today at noon. I expect everyone to be courteous and to clean up their nighttime rubbish before his arrival," Alfred reminds them as they struggle to sit through breakfast.

Last night's patrol was brutal, and everyone was a bit bruised up and sore, not to mention that most only got an hour or so of sleep.

They collectively groan- except for Bruce and Damian, but neither count as full humans anyway, no matter what their DNA says otherwise.

Tim, in particular, is rubbing his hands down his face. "But Alfred, today's my only day off for the next six weeks!"

"I fail to see how your poor time management will change the outcome of doing your chores, Master Tim," The butler states. Tim cowards instantly at the sight of that arched brow on his grandfather's face and melts into his seat.

Pleased, Alfred taps his wristwatch. "You all have three hours. Better get to it."

They scatter. Bruce runs to his office to clean up all his paperwork, knowing some purchases were not Wayne Industries. Jason hits the multiple garages to ensure nothing bat-related is thrown in the toolboxes.

Dick is swinging by the handlers, taping his hands along the beams and pulling out hidden gadgets. Cass and Duke are walking on the roofs, double-checking the boobytraps.

Steph and Damian have offered to patrol the Batcave and the connecting tunnels to ensure the motion sensors are active.

Tim is told to walk along the property and make sure no surprise holes will appear. Bruce fell into the cave system when he was young, so the new groundskeeper might have the same fate. It's the more leisurely job since Bruce obsessively checks since it happened, but they all know Tim can barely keep his eyes open.

Tim doesn't mind because he must pat his bo staff on the ground, stomping his foot ever so often and scanning the environment with his wrist computer. He doesn't even bother to change out of his pajamas- an old pair of sweats and a baggy t-shirt Kon lent him when he once slept over and never returned. It's mostly just a walk, but it feels like an entirety to his sleep-deprived mind.

His eyelids are heavier than usual, every blink feels like a bag of sand, and he still has to check at least three-thirds of the Wayne Manor grounds.

He is wandering towards the east side of the property when he finds a very convenient bush shaped perfectly to block the sun and offer him a tiny nooch to snuggle into.

He glances back at the house and then at the time on his wrist computer. He has two hours and twenty minutes before the groundskeeper arrives.

"One short nap," Tim mutters, getting on his hands and knees to crawl into the bush. He twists to lie on his back, using his jacket as a pillow. His whole body fits inside, so Alfred will likely not catch him. The scrub is soft, and Tim relaxes into his protective shade. "I'll get up in a bit."

The wind blowing through the trees and the bushes around him lures him to sleep.

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"Hey"

A voice cuts through his dream of jumping over the city, chasing after his family but maskless. They weren't running around the roofs fighting a good fight; the Waynes in his dream were just spending time together. Laughing. Goodnaturely teasing.

It's wonderful.

It's everything he's ever wanted.

It's slowly disappearing as he is coming back to consciousness.

Tim groans, trying to roll over and return to the dream, but the voice speaks again. "Hey, man, you can't sleep here."

A hand clamps on his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. Tim mutters, weakly swapping it away. "No. No. No."

"Come one, man, I can't have the big boss see you. It's my first day, and I don't want to get fired because I let some guy sleep in his yard." The voice continues, sounding pleasing and guilty.

Tim whimpers, rubbing his face against the cold hard ground. "No. No. No. Please, I just want to sleep. I'm not hurting anybody."

"Ancients....okay. Okay. Listen, I will let you sleep a little longer while I work. I'll finish mowing the yards and trim all the bushes. That should be at least five hours. I must move you if you're still here when I return."

Tim doesn't answer, too busy slipping back into his sleep as a hand gently runs through his hair. He snuggles into the warm palm with a sigh.

Someone gulps. "I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

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Tim snaps his eyes open to see that everything is pitch dark. Oh crude!

How long has he been asleep? What time is it? Was Alfred going to kill him!? What was he thinking?

Of course, Alfred would kill him, and unlike Jason or Damiman, the elder would not fail. In fact, from what Tim could make out in the darkness, a man was standing over him wearing white gloves.

He found me! Tim thinks historically. I didn't even have time to run!

The white gloves move closer as if they were going to touch him. He leaps up with a scream, and a man falls over.

"Woah! Woah! Hey, it's okay, I'm not a cop!" The stranger- not Alfred- shouts. Tim pauses, then lets out a louder scream. The man rushes forward to slam his hands against Tim's mouth.

He glances frantically at the manor- it's too far away to see anyone since Tim chose to nap at the very edge of the vast land Bruce's ancestors purchased.- before hissing. "Could you keep it down? Look, I let you sleep long enough; you must move."

Tim blinks owlish at him. His mind is fuzzy- shit, was he hit with something last night? He couldn't remember.- but he thinks he knows him.

Dark Hair.

Blue Eyes.

Pretty facial features.

Oh, it's one of his brothers. Dick? Yeah, it's Dick. Has to be. Tim is sure. He can't think clearly now, but he knows his eldest brother. This guy has the same color eyes. It's him.

Does Dick know he is Tim's brother? Does he know who he is?

"Dick," He tells the man in jeans overalls, just in case he forgets his name. His brother frowns.

"I know. I hate to do it, okay? But you can't sleep here."

"I can't?"

"No, dude."

"Where can I sleep?"

Dick sighs. "I think there is a shelter that-"

"Take me home."

Dick pauses, taken aback. "What?"

Tim leans forward, resting his head on his brother's shoulder. "I'm tired. I want to go home."

"Where do you live? Is there someone I can contact for you?" Dick asks in high pitched voice, seemingly uncomfortable by Tim's closeness but too bad. Tim never gets enough hugs, so he must deal with it because he wants hugs now.

"No, I want to go home with you!" He whines, and the world starts to spin. Quickly closing his eyes against the nausea, Tim tries to hide further into Dick's shoulder. "Take me home with you."

Dick is quiet for a long moment before he slumps. Carefully, he reaches up to pet Tim's hair, and it's so comforting that he almost falls back to sleep. "I'm going to regret this, but something in my core tells me to do what you say. You wouldn't happen to know a Clockwork, would you?"

Tim shakes his head.

"Right. Okay, taking a homeless stranger I found in the Waynor Manor bushes. Seems on-brand to me. Let's go."

Tim follows.

Who was he following? He doesn't remember, but when he climbs into a van with the words "Phantom Groundskeeping," he doesn't feel worried.

In fact, once he's buckled in, head leaning against the window and pulling his legs up to his chest, he feels oddly protected. The driver of the van is also beautiful.

Like wow. Talk about a work of art.

"I love you," He tells the man, who laughs, flickering blue sad eyes at him.

"Thanks. Take a nap. I think you should sleep off whatever your on and then I can get you some help."

"Do you love me too?"

"....sure. Go to sleep now."

"Will I die?"

"What?"

Tim can feel the word fading away, which is terrible; he knows it is but can't remember why. He just knows that when it disappears, he'll never wake up again. He tells the stranger as such, voice just barely above a whisper.

Glowing green eyes snap to him in alarm, and a small breath of blue leaves the stranger's mouth. Tim thinks he's slowly gaining a hint of horror, but his body begs him to sleep.

Tim blinks once, then twice, as the stranger's mouth opens and closes before he snaps his eyes to the road. "What a time to go mad."

The diver's grip on his steering wheel tightens, but Tim can barely keep his eyes open, so he can't see the gorgeous stranger's face as he whispers. "No. I won't let you die. Just....just sleep, okay? I'll figure it out."

Tim does.

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"Crap!" Jason yells, running up the stairs from the Batcave. In his hand are the test results for the standard toxicity screening they all undergo whenever they fight someone who even remotely deals with drugs.

Everyone was too tired to look at them properly, which means they all missed that Tim's blood was covered in what looked like a blend of Poison Ivy's love pollen and some kind of sleep-inducing strain.

Tim is out there, somewhere tripping balls or cuddling up to a stranger or unconscious, slowly slipping into a coma. They all thought he bailed on his work and deserved a day off so no one bothered to go after him.

Now Tim could be dead.

He rounds the large hall, his stomping footsteps barely covering the sounds of Alfred's smooth voice.

"It seems the groundskeeper is asking for a week off already. He just got married and-"

"Crap! Crap! Crap! Bruce!" He shouts, slamming the door of his dad's office open. His grandfather and father both turn sharply to him, and neither misses the paper that Jason throws. Their eyes widen in horror when they read what's on the report. "We need to find Tim!"

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Jazz wakes to find a half-dressed stranger curled around Danny, a ghost contract with drying blood on the ground, and a hastily made banner that reads "Happy Elopement!" thrown on the wall.

The living room looks like a confetti bomb went off in it. Did she miss a party being hosted in her own house? While sleeping in the room next door?

Johnny- her ex and surprisingly good friend after he stop bothering her brother- is sitting cross-legged, eyes glued on the TV.

"What. The. Fuck." Jazz asks, walking over to pour herself a cup of coffee.

"Morning," Johnny replies without so much as turning around. Since Jazz helped plan his and Kitty's wedding, the ghost becomes a brother to the Fentons. "Danny eloped."

"I figured as much by the banner." She mutters, walking over to the couch his brother and her new brother-in-law occupy. She stares at the stranger. He looked....familiar?

"Yeah, don't know all the details, but I guess his hubby was dying, so Danny pulled a Ghost King contract out of his ass and saved him by passing on his healing factor after they were hitched," Johnny says. Jazz takes a sip of her coffee. "I think he thinks he can divorce him or something. But till death due us part doesn't apply to Halfas. They're married forever, even in life or death."

"Shit." Jazz sighs. "Danny got himself into another situation. And he was doing so well recently, too. Became a groundskeeper for the Waynes and everything."

"Waynes pay well?"

"Danny could have paid off my student loans in four paychecks."

"Damn." Johnny whistles. Just then, Kitty floats through the wall wearing a red bathing robe. Jazz will never get used to the fact ghosts could look so human in the morning, with their messy hair and dazed expression. "Morning, babe."

"Morning," Kitty mumbles, leaning down to kiss Johnny. She glances at Danny and smiles. "They're so cute. I'm so happy Danny found his Core Mate."

"Core Mate?" Jazz asks.

"Like a soulmate but more dead," Kitty explains. "They are scarce to find, but once your core finds what it wants, it's fated. That's probably why Danny married so quickly, even if it was to save a life he normally wouldn't have."

Jazz looks back at the boy wrapped around in Danny's arms. Her brother is holding him like he's the most precious thing in either world, even in his sleep, and she knows that no matter what she or anyone says, he's not going to give up- wait a minute.

The stranger moves slightly in his sleep, snuggling up against Danny more, and his hair falls out of his face.

Shit.

"That's Tim Drake. Danny stole away Tim Drake." She deadpans. "Danny went over to cut Bruce Wayne's yard and returned with his son to elop with."

"In one afternoon? I'm impressed." Johnny laughs. "He really said all services included."

"Don't be gross, Johnny," Kitty scolds, but she's smiling. Jazz just shakes her head, reaching down for the contract. She may as well read what kind of dead-brain idea her baby brother got involved with this time.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Finders Keepers #dead tired #trigger warning: Druged #Tim get hit with Poison Ivy's pollen #Different Povs #Danny was just trying to do his job #Tim was just trying to nap #Now they married #Danny did in fact think he could marry him pass along his powers though the marriage then divorcé him #Kitty and Johnny are the friends always staying over and munching off your coffee

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