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nabtime · 5 months

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Sir Waylon of Gotham

Waylon wasn't much for talkin' to hoity-toity well-to-doers. Didn't much like their attitude. Or the way they looked at 'im. Lookin' down their noses, all pinched-faced and holier-than-thou, like he was the scum of the earth for the way he looked. And while Waylon wouldn't deny that he was scum, it sure weren't for lookin' the way he did. He'd earned that title fair 'n square, through hard work 'n strikin' fear inta the people of Gotham.

And he did that by bitin' they's arms off, not 'cause he was a li'l scaly.

Point was, Waylon didn't talk much with fancy people. Yeah, he talked to the Bat Brood and they could half be considered fancy on account of mostly bein' Waynes under the mask, but they didn't count. Not really. 'Specially their newest petite couyon that liked to swing about in his sewers like the chit owned the place. He didn't know how the kid was added to the family- coulda been adopted, coulda been one a' the other one's partner, coulda been another blood son a popped up outta nowhere 'gain.

Waylon didn't ask and the chit never said. No, all Phantom ever wanted to talk 'bout was how Waylon was doin. Idjit was far too concerned about Waylon's well-bein' when he shoulda been mindin' his own damn business. Kid said it was part a his business. That heroes had to check in on the reformed, make sure they were well and happy so they didn't have a need to get back inta villainy. Waylon wanted to call bullshit on 'im but he just didn't have the heart when the kid looked so earnest 'bout it.

And maybe the kid was swingin' in all the time just to check in on an Old Croc. Maybe even the kid didn't mind bein' 'round 'im an 'is big, scary teeth. Sure it were more likely he needed an escape an' the sewers were a place most Bats didn't venture less they had to, but iffin that were true- kid didn't have to find and talk to him every time.

All this was to say that he'd gotten used to seein' Danny 'round the sewers, and even seein' Jay when the older kid was sent to bring the other back topside.

Who he had not gotten used to seein' in the sewers, though, was a pretty thing all done up in medieval dress and glowin' green. Nor was he used to the hulking Knight done up in glowin' black armor standin' next ta her.

And, again, Waylon wasn't much for talkin' to hoity-toity people, let alone Ghost Royalty or some such, but he was still a man with manners. An' they were in his sewers (well, an' Grundy's, but the big lug weren't here, so's point was moot) so he was haven'ta be the one to greet 'em.

He growl echoed off the stone and muck as he approached the two beings that were floating midair, just above the water. They both looked lost until he fully rose from the grime and addressed them.

"Youins need somethin? Ya lookin fer Danny?"

And, well, Waylon said he had manners. Never said he was gonna use 'em.

"Oh!" said the sweet thing in flowing gown, her voice just as soft as she looked. "Yes! You must be the good Sir Waylon of Gotham that the King speaks so fondly of. I am Princess Dorathea and this is my personal guard, Fright Knight."

Sir Waylon? Now that's not somethin' he's ever heard afore. Him? Deservin' of a title like Sir? Ain't no way. He weren't 'bout to say nothin', but it sure did make him feel all flustery that a noble Lady like her would think so highly of a monster like him.

"Nah I wouldn' say he's 'xactly fond a me, but the name is Waylon, yeah, uh- My Lady."

And she smiled at 'im, sweet as anythin', like he weren't made a sharp edges an spilled blood. The big Knight aside her was actin like that too, posture relaxed as he just let her get closer. Closer an most people ever dared. 'Cept Phantom an some a the Bats. Was it a ghost thing? No fear a death, so whats scary about a big man with sharp teeth anymore?

"Would Sir Phantom be near-abouts?" she asked. "I require his counsel on matters of import."

"Sorry, cher- uh, My Lady," he grumbled, "ain't gotta clue where he's at. Somewhere's topside, prolly."

Her shoulders slumped just the slightest, obviously disappointed in his answer. And try as he might to want to give her a better one, he only knew where the kid was when he wanted to hang around underground. Waylon avoided the streets at all costs these days, not wantin' to risk trouble again. He'd spent enough of his days wastin' away in Arkham and Blackgate, thanks.

The Lady turned thoughtful though and graced him with a tilt of her head and a smile. "Perhaps you would deign to assist me instead, Sir Waylon?"

"Well nah, I'd love ta, My Lady. Supposin' its somethin' I can help ya with."

"Yes," she said, circling around him in a graceful glide, "so long as you are willing, you will suit just fine."

"Ya still haven't told me what ya need help with, ah- My Lady."

Waylon couldn't see the Knight's expression but he could almost feel the amusement pourin' off a him. And he wondered just what the hell he'd agreed to that a guy like that'd find it funny.

"My brother is making moves to take back the Kingdom. He has amassed a small, but skilled contingent of rebels and intends to usurp me at the upcoming Yule Celebration."

"So ya need muscle ta help stop 'im?"

"Oh no," she said, sweet but full of venom- like arsenic. Her grin was now full of teeth, teeth much to sharp for a proper Lady like her, and her eyes turned to glowing reptilian points. "I can take care of him myself. I intended to ask Sir Phantom along as contingency."

She looked him up and down and the Knight standing guard behind her was projectin' a certain smugness as he did the same.

"You, however, Sir Waylon," she said, and the tone near sent a shiver down his spine. "Will do well as both warrior and suitor."

"What say you?"

#nap shitposts in the afterlife #naps fics #dp x dc #dpxdc #i leave the ending up to your imagination or someone elses potential continuation #i just had the funny idea that they'd all be good together. yes that includes Fright Knight.#have fun with the ship and ship name byyyeeee

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thecursedprince · 1 month

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Monster High Outta Fright Operetta Doll

Shriek, Rattle, and Roll 🎶

$ 50.00

Launches on Mattel Creations on April 12 with Members Only Fangclub Membership

Lead Product Designer: @rebecula13

Link to article: https://creations.mattel.com/pages/monster-high-outta-fright-operetta-doll

Straight from her concert in the catacombs comes the first exclusive Fang Club Member doll of 2024. Catch the hottest music act in Monster High – the new Operetta doll. Based on the fan-favorite G1 character, this singing phantom takes the stage in a 1950s-inspired spiderweb dress and vinyl record overskirt. She comes with her rockabilly pet spider Memphis Longlegs and a guitar handbag to complete her retro look.

MONSTER HIGH™ OUTTA FRIGHT OPERETTA™ Doll

10.5 inches tall with 10 points of articulation

Wears a spiderweb dress with a vinyl record overskirt and piano key shoes

Her hot rod red high-top hair style is crowned by her pet spider Memphis Longlegs

Rocks her look with a neck scarf, dice earrings, and a guitar handbag

Premium Packaging with music notes and Outta Fright logo

Includes Certificate of Authenticity

Doll cannot stand alone. Doll stand included. Colors and decorations may vary. Purchase limits subject to change at the sole discretion of Mattel.

SKU#: HRP93

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-• -•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

#monsterhigh #monsterhighhauntcouture #monsterhighdolls #dawnofthedance #monsterhighcollection #ghoul #ghouls #monster #draculaura #frankiestein #frankie #lagoonablue #cleodenile #cleo #clawdeenwolf #MonsterHighAlumni #lagoona #clawdeen #wearwolf #vampire #mummy #bat #frankenstein #monsterhighg3 #toraleistripe #manster #mattel #hauntcouture #toralei #operetta

#monster high doll #monster high #operetta #fang club #Mattel #mattel creations #doll news #doll #dolls #monster

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lousypotatoes · 1 month

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So Dark Up Above

Song Recommendation:

Ain't Misbehavin' - Fats Waller

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

90 years ago...

It was now mid-June. Alastor had visited the flower shop every day since Mother's Day, buying different kinds of flowers each day.

Y/N was sweeping the floor when she heard the tiny bell ringing, signaling the arrival of a customer.

"I'll be with you in a second," she said, continuing to sweep, not looking up from the floor.

"Oh, take all the time you need, dear," said a voice. "I can wait."

At the sound of Alastor's voice, Y/N jumped and dropped the broom. This made Alastor laugh.

"Alastor!" she said sternly, picking up the broom. "Don't be scarin' me like that!"

"My apologies, Y/N" he said, still laughing. "I didn't mean to give you such a fright."

"Oh, is that why you didn't say anything when you came in?" she said, a doubtful look on her face.

Alastor didn't answer, instead looking at the different arrays of flowers. "Say, when did you get these Geraniums?"

"Oh," she said, putting money in the cash register. "I got them yesterday soon after you left."

"They're quite the lookers, aren't they?" he said softly.

"Oh, they are," she said, smiling. "Did you know that they hail from South America? They also come in a range of hues from white to lavender and-"

Listening to her rant about Geraniums of all things made something in Alastor's heart stir. Looking over at her, he found it adorable the way her eyes lit up and the way she talked with her hands. Alastor found himself staring and immediately blush started to creep up in his neck. He cleared his throat.

"Apologies for my rantin'," she said sheepishly. "I find the history of flowers rather captivatin', it's real easy for me to get carried away talkin' about them."

"There's no need to apologize, darling," Alastor chuckled. "In fact, I find it rather endearing."

"Oh, your words carry weight, Al," she said, picking up a vase of Geraniums to hide her blush.

"I'm glad you think so,"

It was silent for a few seconds.

"You plannin' on buyin' some flowers," Y/N said playfully said. "Or are you just gonne keep on smooth talkin' me?"

"Oh, right,"

"What do you even do with all the flowers you buy, hm?" she asked, as he picked out a bouquet of Narrowleaf Sunflowers. "That'll be two buck per stem, if you please."

"Sometimes, I present them to my mother," he said, handing Y/N the money. "Other times I adorn my studio with their beauty."

"I'm pleased you're makin' good use outta them," she said. "Y'know, you don't need to pop in here every day."

"I'm aware," he began. "But I enjoy our daily conversations, my dear."

Alastor saying that made butterflies appear in Y/N's stomach. "I do as well, Al," she said.

"I'm mighty curious, darling," he said, propping his elbow up on the counter. "What is your favorite flower?"

"Daisies," she answered immediately. "I know it's boring, but there's somethin' about them that I absolutely love .Why you askin'?"

"Just curious, dear,"

Alastor looked at his watch. "Good heavens, I need to rush if I'm to make it for my 2 o'clock broadcast," he said heading out the door with the bouquet of Narrowleaf Sunflowers. "Will you be phoning into the station tonight?"

"Don't I always?" she smiled, sad see to Alastor leave. "Have a splendid remainder of your day, Alastor."

"You as well, Y/N," he smiled back.

And with that the little bell above the door rang, signaling that he left.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that night...

"You only have yourself to blame, sweetheart," Y/N said, out of breath. "Had you not strayed from your vows, your husband wouldn't of hired me to kill you."

"Please," the woman sobbed, backed against the back alley wall. "Please don't do this! Just tell him-"

"I'm not tellin' him nothin'," she said, grabbing the woman's throat. "Why do you think I'm in this line of work? I like killin' people. The only reason I'm not doin' this for free is 'cause I also like the money."

"Please," the woman choked out. "Don't do this, I'll do anything."

"Broads like you really piss me off," she said, squeezing the woman's throat tighter. "What's the point of tyin' the knot if you're gonna sleep around with every Tom and Harry you lay your eyes on?"

The woman started thrashing and trying to pull Y/N's fingers off her throat, but she couldn't get out of Y/N's grip.

"Make sure you tell Satan I said hi, sweetheart." she grinned, placing her other hand on the woman's throat.

Suddenly, the woman lifted up her hand and scratched Y/N's cheek, drawing blood with her manicured nails.

Y/N yelped in pain, letting go of the woman with one of her hands. With Y/N distracted, the woman started thrashing a lot more.

BANG!

Y/N pulled out her gun from under her dress and shot the woman three times in the head.

The woman fell to the ground, blood oozing out of three different places on her face.

Y/N put the gun back under her dress, glaring daggers at the dead woman. She touched the scratch on her face and hissed in pain.

It stung, and it stung a lot.

After she put the body in a dumpster, she walked home as fast as she could, not wanting to draw attention to her cheek.

As soon as she got home, she rushed to the bathroom, putting rubbing alcohol on the scratch to clean it out, and finally putting a bandage it on it.

She sat on her couch, trying to relax. Honey tried to jump up on her lap, failing each time, making Y/N giggle.

After a few moments, she got up turned on the radio and walked over to the phone, dialing the radio station's number.

"You've reached Alastor Altruist!" said a voice that made Y/N smile giddily. "To whom do I have the pleasure speaking to on this lovely night?"

"You're gonna be gettin' tired of my voice, here soon, Al," she giggled.

"Ah, I had a feeling it was you calling," he laughed. "What tune do you fancy, dear?"

"It's been a spell since you've played Singin' In The Rain," she said. "I reckon I wanna listen to that."

"I was hoping you would request that tune," he said. "You'll be hearing it in a jiffy."

"I'm lookin' forward to it,"

"Have a lovely rest of your night, Y/N," he said into the phone. "You keep yourself outta trouble now."

"Trouble usually finds me," she giggled.

With that she hung up, sighing happily.

It had been a real long time since Y/N felt in love. She wanted to cherish every single moment of it and never let it go.

Just as she was about to get ready for bed, the phone rang again.

"This is Y/N, to whom am I speakin' to?" she said, picking up the phone.

"I could never get tired of your voice, dear," Alastor's voice came from the phone, making Y/N jump for the second time that day.

"Alastor!" she cried out. "I told you to stop scarin' me!"

"I apologize, Y/N," he said, laughing. "I didn't mean to give you such a fright.

"Yes you did, don't lie to me,"

"Alright, perhaps I did,"

"How'd you get my number?" she asked curiously.

"A friend of mine prints out the phone books," he said. "I was calling to see if you might wanna grab a drink with me tomorrow evening?"

Y/N had a loss for words. Since the two of them had met, she had imagined going out for drinks with him.

"Uh- yeah, of course," she stuttered. "What time?"

"I could pick you up at 8 o'clock, if that's alright with you?"

"Oh no, that's perfect,"

"Wonderful!" he exclaimed. "Could you give me your address?"

"Oh yeah," she said. "Write this down. It's 2734 Burgundy Street."

"Oh, that's not too far from me," he said "I look forward to see you tomorrow, Y/N." he said softly.

"Yeah, me too."

"Sleep well, my dear.

"You too, Alastor

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ughhh i absouletly love writing for characters in love, makes me feel all warm and fuzzy

i am so down bad for this man

stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

Taglist 💋

@maksdust @trippoverrt @slytherin4ever @lucifers-silhouette @a-small-tyrant @leviwife1

#alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor altruist x reader #alastor altruist #character x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you

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little-pondhead · 2 months

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Fright Knight finally got some clothes

Me: man I wonder who I should draw for some anatomy and clothes practice

Me, eyeing human!Fright Knight: well, it wouldn’t hurt…

“Man, I’m so glad Mr. Lancer was able to lend you some clothes. I don’t think Dad’s would have fit you.”

“Is this common attire for humans nowadays?”

“Uhhh, kind of? I mean, I don’t wear it.”

“Why not?”

“Work clothes like that are usually for adults. Like Mr. Lancer! He’s super old and had been teaching for a while.”

“So they are a symbol of wisdom and age.”

“In a way? Kind of??”

“I am pleased, then. I’ll have to inform this Sir Lance that I am honored he allowed me to wear these precious garments. I hope I don’t ruin them.”

“Frighty, I promise you, it’s not a big deal. He has more button up t-shirts than just this. Please don’t go scaring the shit outta my English teacher just to compliment him on his poor fashion taste.”

#danny phantom #doodles from a pond #human!fright knight #he lives in my head rent free

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julesthequirky · 5 months

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The Choice: Chapter Three

All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors kindly, DNI.

Summary: You find three of your favourite characters in your home. It shouldn’t be possible, but there they are. In the flesh. How the hell did they get there? And surely there’s a way to get them back? But as you get close to each one, the thought of sending them back proves difficult to comprehend.

Characters: Fem!Reader, Dean, Beau, Soldier Boy/Ben.

Warnings: Language, angst.

W/C: 1,644

Ben turned to exit your room, leaving you standing like a moron, stuck on what to do. Fuck! Your ex always said you were shit with making tough choices. Said you always looked like you were forever stuck in a damn action, like a mannequin. He always saw the pain in your face as you struggled to decide. He’d clap his hands in front of you, and you’d look at him in annoyance. Then he’d choose for you, and that voice in your head would chime up.

Inadequate.

Useless.

Can’t even make a single decision for yourself.

Well, it wasn’t true, and you could. You pushed yourself. If you followed after Ben, you’d just have to get the box again. But if Ben left…No, the door was locked. Unless he broke the lock. Would he? Fuck!

Your clenched and unclenched your fists. Your heart raced in your chest, your body heating as you continued to struggle.

“Wait!”

Your voice sounded so strangled, so strained. From outside your hallway, you heard a huff. That seemed to snap you out of your mannequin state.

You rushed back up the chair and reached to grab the box, and once it was in your grip, you jumped down from the chair and ran out. Ben was making his way down your stairs.

You followed him as he headed into the living room. He bent to retrieve his shield. You shoved the box in Dean’s hands and hurried to pick the DVDs from your shelf. The Supernatural box set almost knocked the wind outta your chest as it fell into your grasp. You grabbed The Boys and Big Sky and dumped the sets on your coffee table. Ben had turned around at this point and was looking at your display with his signature look of disgust.

“The fuck is that?”

“I tried to tell you. You’re fictional.”

“What?”

You let your words sink in. Turning to Dean and Beau, you rubbed your forehead. This was not how you wanted them to find out, but Ben had forced your hand. You hadn’t planned on a way to tell them, it wouldn’t have been like this. You would have softened the blow.

You paced in the limited area.

His brow furrowed, deepening, his lip curled, he snarled. He picked up the DVD set with Butcher’s face on the cover.

“I knew I had to tell you. Not like this but— but shit…this world, my world. It’s the real world. And the same man plays each of you. Look.” You slipped your phone from your sweater pocket. Your hands trembled as you typed the name in, and then you passed the phone to Dean. His eyes widened, and his mouth opened, only to close a moment later. His head tilted to one side as he took in the information. There were those damn butterflies in your stomach again.

“It’s like that time Balthazar sent me to that alternate dimension.”

“Yeah, except this time, you’re not Jensen. Jensen is an actor who plays a character on screen. God, this makes no sense.”

Yeah, it made no sense. It was fucking insane. Jensen played Dean, Beau, and Ben. They shouldn’t even exist. Yet somehow, they were here.

“This ain’t makin’ a lick of sense, darlin’. You’re sayin’ we’re not real. None of us? Except you?”

“Exactly.”

“Yet, somehow, thanks to a picture frame, we are.”

You nodded.

Ben’s gruff pants pulled your attention to him. He had his fists tightly clenched, his eyes squeezed shut, and his chest heaved as he huffed breaths in and out. For someone so tough and brave, seeing him like this killed you.

Your hand reached out to comfort him. His eyes snapped open and shot you a glare. You pulled your hand back in fright.

“Fuck you. I’m real!” He spat and stormed off.

Your first instinct was to follow him. To smooth things over. Apologise.

“Ben!”

As you stepped towards the hallway, a hand rested on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

“Let him go, darlin’,” Beau said softly.

You watched Ben’s hulking frame leave your sight. Shaking your head, you turned to Beau. Dean was inspecting the box the frame came in.

“I can’t. He could break something. He could hurt himself.”

“Give him space to process.”

You pressed your lips together, grimacing, not fully agreeing with the Texan. Your eyes darted towards the hallway. God knows how he was feeling. Or what he was even thinking.

“You go in there, you’re just gonna make everything a million times worse. He needs space.” Dean said a matter-of-factly, looking at you momentarily.

You stood there, hand on a hip, chewing your bottom lip, finger twirling and tugging absentmindedly on the hair at the nape of your neck.

“You don’t know what he’s like.”

“And you think you do? Because you’ve seen him on TV.” Dean asked pointedly.

Wow.

Hurt flashed across your face. The air whooshed from your lungs as your mouth fell open.

Right here. Was reality. His words stung. Sure, they’d never affected you before. But that was because you were never on the receiving end. Reality struck. What the fuck did you think was gonna happen? That he would fall madly in love with you and live happily ever after?

You heaved in breaths as you stared at him. His words rang in your head over and over. Your ex’s voice collided – “You don’t know anything!” – making Dean’s jibe that little bit more painful. You felt your throat constrict painfully. You strengthened your resolve. There was no way you were crying in front of Dean or Beau.

“What the fuck do you know? You’ve barely been here ten seconds, and suddenly you think you know everything?”

You lashed out and stormed off, stomping up the stairs like a child having a tantrum. You slammed your bedroom door, huffing and puffing, pacing, fingers rubbing your temples. Fuck. A year after the divorce, your ex was still inside your head, finding ways to assert his control. And you were no better, throwing your ex’s words right back at Dean. Dean didn’t deserve it, of course. He had only been trying to help, and you’d gone and made it worse.

It was time to face the facts. You always made things worse. Everything you touched turned to shit.

You slumped on your bed, gripped your pillow, and stuffed your face into it. You screamed, releasing all your pent up anger and frustrations. The initial release felt cathartic as hell, but on the third, it just felt pathetic.

They were right. What the hell did you know? You didn’t. He was just a damn character off a dumb TV show. A show you took way too much of your time, consuming. Just to escape reality. It didn’t mean a damn thing.

You didn’t know Ben.

You didn’t know Dean.

Shit, you didn’t even know yourself half the time.

You brought your knees up, hugged them and sobbed. Great big chest heaving ugly sobs, clutching the pillow. Your mother was right. At thirty-six, you were a divorced loser with nothing to call your own except your dead dad’s house and a black cat.

Perhaps you were just being overly sensitive, melodramatic, or self-pitying, but the truth was the truth.

You mourned the breakup of your marriage, your dad, and your sad, pathetic existence. Fuck, you wished your dad was here. He always knew the right thing to say. He’d wipe your tears and tell you it would be if it was meant to be. He’d kiss your forehead, stroke your hair and then he’d tell you a corny joke only dads find funny, like – How do you get a country girl’s attention? A tractor.

You smiled and chuckled a little. He always knew how to cheer you up.

A soft knock roused you from your reverie, and you sniffed, wiping your tears from your cheeks, and eyes.

“Hey, you in here?”

“Yeah.” You called out, sounding so small.

The door opened, and Beau stepped in. He eased himself down beside you.

“You wanna talk about it?”

You shook your head.

“Talking does nothing.”

“Oh, I dunno ‘bout that. In my experience, talking does a world of good. So does a punch list. And breathing exercises.”

“Yeah, I know. You got Musk on there.”

Beau smiled and nudged you with his arm.

“So, come on, what’s really going on? I may not know you, but I can see there’s more inside than you’re letting on.”

You stared at the pillow in your hands. It had soaked up your tears. Soaked up your screams. Now, it was going to soak up your fears.

What to say? Your throat felt painful and tight, like something constricting your airways. You swallowed thickly, hands tightening their grip on the pillow.

“Last year, I got divorced. I’m thirty-six with no kids and a broken marriage. That’s my legacy.”

Beau shook his head.

“Hell no. That’s not your legacy. You’ve got plenty of life still left in you. There’s still plenty of time.”

He spoke kindly, softly.

“Divorces suck. I should know, and it’s only been a year. You’re still grieving. It’s natural. Your fears will only manifest if you let them. Don’t listen to the naysayers. Ignore them. They only feed into them. You’ve come this far. You’ve got so much further to go, and you know what? It gets easier. You just gotta take one day at a time.”

You smiled faintly, and he pulled you in a side hug. You said your thanks, and he smiled warmly.

“Come on, darlin’, let’s get back down there. Gotta check on Grumpy Captain America in the kitchen.”

You snorted and placed your pillow back on the bed. It seemed that he, too, possessed the ability to cheer you up, just like your dad used to.

Tags:

@deans-spinster-witch, @curlycarley

#The Choice #julesthequirky's fics #spn fanfic #reader insert #dean winchester #soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #big sky #the boys #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #beau arlen x you #beau arlen #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x female reader

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